by A. O'Connor
She touched her cheek where the woman had hit her.
“You got quite a blow there. I’d say it will come up in a bruise over the next few days.”
She looked around the room, not recognising it.
“I brought you back to my cottage. I didn’t know what to do when I found you. I didn’t think I should bring you back to your house at that time of night, dressed like that and in the condition you were in. How would I explain it to the servants?”
“Yes, Seán, you did right. Thank you for your quick thinking and for bringing me here,” she said gratefully. She fleetingly thought of Georgina and the panic she must have felt when Anna hadn’t shown up. She felt confident Georgina wouldn’t raise the alarm. Who would she tell, how would she explain?
She looked around her surroundings. The room was small. There was a fire blazing in the fireplace, which was lighting the room along with a couple of candles. The furniture was inexpensive but the whole house had a warm homely feeling to it. The smell of the turf fire made her feel secure after her horrible adventure in the riot. She had been lying on a bed that was positioned in the corner by the fire and she swung her legs to the ground now and placed her feet on the flagstone floor. She had never been in a peasant’s cottage before. She never imagined what it might be like, it had never even entered her head what it might be like. She had never thought what sort of a home Seán went to after he left work in the Big House. And she could see he had made a cosy home for himself there with not much behind him. And it would be a lovely home for one of those village girls that were rumoured to be chasing him all the time.
Seán went to the table and, taking a mug, he filled it to the brim with a clear liquid from a bottle and came over to her and handed it to her.
“What’s this?” she asked, taking the mug and looking at the contents.
“Poteen. Drink it,” he advised.
She took a smell of it. “No! It smells foul. I couldn’t possibly.” She went to hand him back the mug.
“Drink it. You’ve had a shock and you need it.”
She viewed the contents suspiciously before holding her nose and downing a big gulp of it. Its strength and taste hit her immediately. But he was right, it did settle her nerves.
He sat down on a chair opposite her and stared at her.
“You must find this very strange,” said Anna eventually.
“You can say that again . . .” He leaned forward, his face confused and almost pleading. “What were you doing there, Anna?”
She was surprised to hear him address her by her first name, not ‘my lady’, or ‘Lady Anna’. But as she was seated there at his fire, drinking his poteen, it seemed natural.
“I can’t explain it. Don’t ask me to . . . How did you manage to spot me?”
“Sure I had been following you the whole day,” said Seán.
“What?” She was horrified.
“When you and your cousin dismissed me yesterday, I followed you into town.”
“You were spying on me?” Anna became angry.
“I was following the orders Lord Edward gave me, that no harm would come to you,” Seán defended himself. “And just as well I did, because who knows what would have happened to you in that fight. People get killed at those faction fights, you know, all the time.”
“It was appalling! Why don’t the authorities do something about it? It’s scandalous fighting like that with such viciousness!”
Seán laughed dismissively. “The authorities! Sure it suits the authorities and you lot, the establishment, for us to be fighting each other. If we’re fighting each other, then we can’t come together and fight you, and change things that need to be changed.”
“You’re saying these fights help keep order? Help keep us in charge?” She looked at him sceptically.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
She looked down at her poteen and took another long drink, and they sat in silence for a long while.
“So if you followed me for the afternoon and evening . . . then you saw everything? You saw what I was doing?” she asked, fearing the answer.
Seán nodded. “I saw Miss Georgina leaving you off, dressed like – well, not dressed like Lady Armstrong should be. I saw you wander around the fair, talking to strangers. I saw you chatting to that horse-trader and going off drinking with him for the evening. And then I saw you go into the field with him.”
Anna sighed loudly as her heart sank. “Then you did see everything.”
He looked at her and nodded.
“What must you think of me?” She sighed loudly again.
“Does it matter what your stable boy thinks of you?”
“It shouldn’t . . . but it does.”
He suddenly leaned forward, demanding answers. “Were you playing a game or something? You and that cousin of yours, Georgina? Is this how you have fun?”
“No! No, nothing like that!”
“There’s plenty of lords who like to go slumming it. Visit a local whore in a local inn, before heading back to their fine wives and their fine living. I haven’t heard of too many women up to the same practice, but I wouldn’t be one bit surprised what that Miss Georgina would lead you into.”
“Seán! I wasn’t in the town today trying to get some kind of thrill. Believe me, I couldn’t think of any place less likely to thrill me, or excite me. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to be with those people. I didn’t want to be with . . . that man.”
“Well, why were you then?” he asked, exasperated.
She said nothing but stared into the fire.
“You could have got killed. You probably would have got killed. And how would that be explained to your husband? How could he ever understand what you were doing there, dressed like that?”
“I wish my life was as simple as yours, Seán. You would never understand the complexities of my life. I never expected it to be like this. I was so happy and protected growing up. Everything was mapped out for me with Edward, and I believed that I, that we, would be happy and content.”
“So you have a bad marriage with Lord Edward? You always look happy together.”
“We are happy together.”
“Do you know what I think? I think you’ve been spoilt all your life. I think you know nothing about what we, our people, have to go through. You wish your life was as simple as mine? How? You don’t know what it’s like to be trying to grow enough potatoes to live on. How you worry sick in case you are late for the rent. Then that bastard Sinclair would turf you out of your home and on to the roadside with nothing. And you’d have nobody to depend on.
“I see you dancing around that giant ballroom. I’ve seen the bonbons and ice cream you stuff yourselves with. Each bonbon and bowl of ice cream, and cognac, and champagne is put there by the blood, sweat and tears of us – the peasants as you call us. And then that’s not enough for you. You still can’t be happy with a kind and loving husband like Lord Edward but you go off in to the town, with that tramp of a cousin of yours, looking for some rough fun with a horse-dealer. And you’re supposed to be our betters? The upper class? Lady Armstrong, you might have a title, but you’ve got no class.”
Anna suddenly burst into tears, and sobbing loudly she turned around and buried her face in the pillows.
Seán stared at her for a while as she continued crying.
“Lady Anna?” he asked gently, but she kept on crying and didn’t answer.
“Lady Anna . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean all that. I shouldn’t have said it.”
She didn’t stop crying and still said nothing. He was overcome with guilt. He got up and went over to her. He hovered for a long while, not knowing what to do or say. Eventually he sat down on the bed beside her and carefully put a hand on her back.
“I’m sorry, Anna. I don’t know the reasons you were there, but it’s none of my business . . . You’re a great lady. Everyone says it.”
“No, I’m not,” she said between the sobs. “You’
re right. I’m a terrible wife, in every sense of the term. I’ve made Edward so unhappy. He deserves so much more. I’ve been easily led by Georgina, and made a mockery of my marriage.”
She sat up and looked at him, her face tearstained.
“I don’t think I can ever bring Edward happiness. I’ve failed him by what I did today, and I’ve failed myself.”
He shook his head softly and smiled at her, but his eyes welled up from looking at her unhappiness. “No, you haven’t. He adores you. I see it every time I see you together. His face lights up when he sees you and when he’s in your company.”
She looked at him. “I’d never have thought you’d notice such things.”
“I notice a lot, Anna. I see a lot. And I see you’re going through a time of unhappiness. But it’ll pass. And you’ll move on with your lives, and yesterday at the fair will seem just a bad dream.”
“I hope so,” she whispered. “Thank you.” She leaned forward and hugged him.
He seemed startled to be in her embrace, and sat there awkwardly. As she gently continued to cry, he put his arms around her and began to soothe her. They stayed like that a long time, until tiredness overcame them and they lay back on the bed and fell asleep.
27
The dawn chorus of birds woke Anna. She opened her eyes and saw the morning light shining through the net curtains. The fire was now smouldering ashes. She looked around and saw Seán fast asleep beside her and the memories of the night came back to her. What had happened between them? The drinking in the town, followed by the poteen, mixed with her anguish and his sweet caring nature had brought them together. And as she stepped out of the bed, leaving his naked form behind her, she didn’t regret it. It was like for one night she had been somebody else. She hadn’t been Lady Anna Armstrong with all that entailed. She put on her garments and pulled back her hair into a bun. She walked across to the front door and opened it and stepped outside. She got a surprise when she looked around. Seán’s cottage was nestled into a hill looking down on the most breathtaking view of the lake. In the nearby woods, the birds were a chorus of different voices.
Anna judged it was about seven in the morning, and the air was crisply cold but so fresh. She stood there, being part of this scene, for a long while.
“You’re up early,” a voice suddenly came from behind her.
She turned around and saw Seán there, dressed in breeches and shirt, looking very sheepish.
“The birds woke me,” she said.
She went over to him and they hugged tightly for a long while, wordlessly.
“It’s time you were getting home,” he said.
She nodded.
As he drove the cart through the estate, neither of them mentioned what had happened between them the previous night. It was as if there was an unspoken covenant between them that needed no explanation or apology.
He stopped the cart in a stand of trees some distance from the house.
“Will you be alright from here?” he said. “It’s best I don’t land up with you in a pony and cart.”
She nodded. “I’ll creep up to the house and sneak in,” she said, hoping nobody would spot her dressed the way she was.
“Maybe the first opportunity I get, I’ll go for a transfer from my duties with you,” said Seán. “Something away from the Big House – from you.”
Anna nodded. “It would be for the best.”
“Goodbye, Anna,” he said.
“Goodbye, Seán.”
She got down from the cart and set out towards the house, hiding the black shawl again under her cloak. When she came closer to the house, she slowed her pace and approached the house as if she were coming back from a morning stroll. To her relief she found the door unlocked.
She hurried across the foyer and up the stairs to the safety of her room. She locked the door behind her. She hid her face in her hands as she leaned against the door, thinking about everything that had happened. She moved over to the giant mirror over the fireplace and examined the bruise coming up on her cheek from the woman’s blow.
Taking a poker, she quickly stoked up the fire in the hearth and threw some wood on it, watching it turn into a blaze. Then she quickly got out of the dress and other clothes and threw them on top of the fire. Taking the poker again she pushed them into the flames and watched them burn into extinction.
28
Barton poured coffee into Anna’s china cup.
“Will there be anything else, my lady?” he enquired.
“No, thank you, Barton,” answered Anna.
“And are you really sure you don’t need treatment for that nasty bruise, my lady?”
“I am, Barton,” said Anna firmly.
Barton cleared away her breakfast plate and left.
A minute later Georgina came rushing into the dining room.
“Anna! Where have you been?” she demanded. “I’ve been worried sick!”
“I only got back this past hour.”
“Why didn’t you immediately come and find me?” Georgina was incredulous as she sat down beside her. “I waited for you at the inn until well after twelve. And you never came as we had arranged. In the end I had to leave in fear of my life. There was a full-scale riot going on!”
“I know. I was caught up in it.”
Georgina saw the bruise on Anna’s face. “Oh, Anna! What happened to you?”
“A woman struck me during the fight. But I’ve told Barton I fell over the root of a tree this morning when out for a morning stroll.”
“Oh, Anna! When I think of the danger you were in! I was so worried about you. I didn’t know what to do. I knew I dare not tell anyone that you were missing in the town but I thought anything could have happened to you.”
“Anything nearly did happen to me. Only Seán found me and rescued me.”
“Seán! What was he doing there?”
Anna took a deep breath and said, “I no longer wish to discuss the whole unfortunate affair, Georgina.”
Georgina leaned forward and spoke conspiringly. “Did you manage to find anybody? Did you go with anybody?”
“As I said Georgina, the subject is closed. I very much regret ever going to the fair. I regret a lot of things.”
“But what about our plan?”
“Our scheme, you mean? Our scheme of deception and folly? Our scheme nearly led to my being killed, and to subsequent great shame being brought on my family and the house of Armstrong.”
Georgina looked at Anna in disgust. “So you are giving up then? You are standing aside and letting everything go to Sinclair and his wife and son?”
“I no longer care about these matters, Georgina. I feel as if I have been living this past long while in a haze, something that’s not real. I feel my desperation for a child has stopped me from looking at life logically. If the estate and title passes through to Sinclair and his son, then that is how fate intends it. If I and Edward are to remain childless, then I accept it, and so will Edward in time.”
“Are you so sure he will?” Georgina asked angrily.
“What choice do we have? I refuse to go along with this plan of yours any more. From now on I will concentrate on making my husband happy in whatever way I can, and trying to make sure I am happy as well . . . in whatever way I can.”
“But you’ve already said you can’t be happy the way you are!” Georgina’s frustration was bubbling.
“Georgina! Georgina, I love you dearly, but I think it’s time you returned to Tullydere.”
“So now I’m to be dismissed!”
“I’m afraid I can’t allow myself to listen to your vehemence and bitterness any more. You’ve changed so much since your engagement was called off, Georgina. You’ve allowed yourself to become so cynical and unpleasant. All you care about is winning. It no longer matters if what is done is honourable and decent, as long as nothing stands in your way. And you have made me like that too these past few months.”
“Life has made you like that!” Georgina�
��s anger erupted.
“Regardless, I don’t think we are good company for each other at the moment . . . You’ll always be welcome here, but maybe leave it some time before your next visit. There’s a lot I need to fix, in my head and my life. And I don’t need your counsel to deter me.”
“I will leave on the mail coach this afternoon.”
Georgina turned and walked quickly from the room.
29
Anna sat anxiously waiting for Edward at the drawing-room window, sewing. She could not wait to see him, and had been counting the hours until he arrived home from Dublin. Finally she saw his carriage pull up outside the house. She threw down her sewing, raced out through the hall to the front door, swung the door open and ran down the steps. As Edward stepped down from the carriage, she flung her arms around him and kissed him.
