“I want you so much, Dalton, that the blood sings in my veins whenever you look at me with those golden eyes of yours,” Emer admitted as she stretched up on tiptoes to plant a kiss on his handsome lips.
Then she pulled away from him. “But I have a chance to do some real good here in my own homeland for the first time in my life, with your help of course, if you're willing to carry on supporting all my efforts. I want to stay to set up the prison farm and watch the workshops come into their own, and I want to remain with Terence and O’Brien until they're transported to Tasmania."
His brows knit at the mention of both men, but at least she was being honest.
“Their death sentences have been commuted, but we both know they might never even survive the journey, or the climate and conditions there. They're my friends, and they need me a bit longer."
"I need you too!"
"But they need me more right now," she said sadly, reaching for his hand to squeeze it. "You and I will have a lifetime together. They only have a few more weeks before our friendship has to end."
"True," he sighed. "But you are mine, aren't you, Emer? I know Terence—"
"Yes, I am, always. You know that."
He stooped to kiss her then, and she gave him ample proof of her feelings, so much so that he had to break off the kiss before he forgot all his good intentions, and they availed themselves of the splintered wooden bed after all.
"Nay, love, it's too good, and if you have no intention of coming home with me now, we have to stop," he said shakily, putting her arm's length from him, and pressing his hands together to try to steady himself.
The heated blush on her cheeks spoke volumes of her own need, but she nodded, and bit her lower lip. When she could finally speak again, she said, "I’m not rejecting you, Dalton, please don’t feel that. I would like nothing better than to spend my nights with you. You could always stay with me, of course, Dalton. You don’t have to go back to Canada straight away,” Emer pointed out.
Dalton sighed. It was a tempting offer, but he didn’t feel he could restrain himself around her forever, and his burning need to hold her in his arms would sooner or later get the better of him. When he and Emer finally made love again, it would be her decision, not his, on that he was now completely resolved.
He thought for a moment, then reached out to stroke her shoulder. “I can’t stay, darling. Much as I wish to be with you, Emer, I don’t belong here. Ireland is your home, not mine, and while I know I could be of help as the prison doctor, we both know another year of Famine means another year of desperately ill and suffering immigrants arriving on our shores back home in Canada.
"And yes, I do share your same fears, but I haven’t given up hope about William. Not yet. Maybe never. I want to go home and find our boy. I want to be surrounded by familiar things, the children, our friends, and I want to meet my mother. We’ve wasted so many years apart, that I want to make the most of whatever time we have left together. She's not going to live forever, after all.”
“I know, it was selfish of me to ask you to stay,” Emer sighed, and hugged Dalton tightly. "And selfish of me to leave my own family behind to do this. I miss everyone so much, Cathan and my nieces and nephews. But I just have to see this through to the end. It's a God-sent opportunity to benefit so many, and I just have to take it. To return evil with good, just as the Bishop told me the night I succumbed to the fever on Grosse Ile."
He nodded. “I do understand, truly. But how long do I have to live without you, Emer? You will come home to me, won’t you? You’re not just trying to let me down gently, are you?
"Because I warn you now, if I thought for a moment that you were breaking things off between us, I would hunt the world over to find you and bring you back,” Dalton threatened, before kissing Emer until she was breathless.
When at last Dalton lifted his lips, Emer reassured him, “No, Dalton, I haven’t changed my mind about us. This is just something I need to do. You have your duties and responsibilities to the fever hospital and the shipping company as well. Give me a year at the most, and when I'm sure I’m finished, and strong enough to make the long journey, then I shall return to you, Dalton.”
“A year! Emer, please...”
“Six months, then,” Emer amended quickly.
“It will seem like an eternity. I’ve done without you so long, it’s like denying food and drink to a starving man,” Dalton groaned as he hugged Emer to him, and his need pressed into the soft flesh of her stomach.
Emer licked her lips, which had suddenly gone dry, and remarked softly, “You could delay your departure a few days. We could go back to the hotel,” Emer offered, misunderstanding his words, and the throes of a burning need which matched his own.
“That’s not what I mean, Emer and you know it! I just promised you I would be patient, and I meant it. No, my love, more than your exquisite body, I want what we had on the Pegasus that first night together. I want you and I inseparable night and day, with no doubts or dissension, and without a million and one people demanding your attention all the time,” Dalton grumbled.
“Dalton, I always had people needing me, even on the Pegasus, don’t you remember?” Emer chided softly.
His golden eyes blazed as he began to pace in the small cell. “Aye, but I always knew you were mine, that I came first with you. I don’t any more, not if you're staying here with Terence and O’Brien,” he couldn’t resist pointing out bitterly.
“Don’t be silly, Dalton, I love you. I always have. But remember ‘To Althea’? There is duty too, even beyond love. You’ve seen all the suffering with your own eyes, Dalton. This is now the fourth year of famine in a row in Ireland. I can’t just leave, not now.”
He threw himself down on the narrow bunk in exasperation. “God, I just don’t know any more, Emer. Every time I find you, I seem to lose you again! I just can’t bear to let you out of my sight. This famine has been a terrible business.
"I admit it. I’m frightened of what might happen, and how much time we’ve wasted being apart,” Dalton confessed in an agonised whisper, pulling Emer close again.
She stroked back his thick, lush hair, once so black, now like spun silver. “It was terrible your father lying about my being dead, and then transporting me, but the time hasn’t been wasted if we’ve had fulfilling work to do.
"Please, Dalton, the famine brought us together. Let me stay now, to try to alleviate the suffering inside and outside these prison walls, and I promise you, if you won’t stay with me, then in June I’ll come home.”
“I can’t stay. You know why,” Dalton said firmly, though Emer could see the effort it cost him.
“This is goodbye again, then,” Emer sighed.
“Come with me down to Cork, at least, to see me off?” Dalton asked.
She shook her head. “I can’t, Dalton, you know that. It’s a long journey, and they need me here. There’s so much to do. And the temptation for us both, well--”
“I could delay my voyage, so we could spend a bit more intimate time together, but then it would mean changing all the arrangements, and the weather at the moment is too good to let slip past,” Dalton hesitated, suddenly desperate to stay with Emer despite his resolve.
“No, darling, really, it was unfair of me to ask you to stay. Forget I ever said it."
"But—"
"You should go, darling, for all the reasons you’ve just listed, Dalton. Please give my love to Cathan and the children, and everyone else at home, and I’ll see you in the summer, Dalton,” Emer promised, turning her face up to his for a kiss.
“Perhaps I should come with you to the hotel, Emer, but....” Dalton trailed off as he found it hard to get the words out.
Their desire for each other burned brightly in their eyes, but then Dalton shook his head.
“No, I want you so badly my knees are trembling, but I can’t risk having you fall pregnant, not now of all times, and not until you're ready, Emer. You have all my love, you know that. When you
’re ready, and sure you want to marry me and be my wife in every way, then you come home. Is that clear?”
“I want that now, you know I do," she said tearfully, cupping his cheek. "I just need a bit more time to work out a few problems with my life for the people who are counting on me. I can’t let them down.”
“I love you.” Dalton kissed Emer passionately.
Emer’s soul rose up to meet his, and the passion scorched so keenly, they thought they would go on fire.
Both ached for the sweetest release, but now was not the time or place. There was a promise of forever in their kiss, if they just had the patience to wait a bit longer…
Dalton pulled away for the kiss at last with a groan. “I have to go, sweetheart, or I’ll miss my ship,” Dalton sighed against her thick hair, before adjusting his clothing and then her own.
Emer smiled tremulously. “This is really goodbye then.”
“No, Emer, just farewell for the present.”
She finished buttoning the top of her gown when she saw how badly his hands were shaking. She took one of them to kiss it, and then smiled as she caught his surprised look.
"You used to do it all the time on the Pegasus , even when I was cleaning out the privies."
"I'm glad you have a whole bevy of well-trained helpers to do it for you now, pet. Serves Terence and O'Brien right for getting to spend so much time with you," he added playfully.
She grinned, and took his arm. "They may in the physical sense, but you know you're never out of my heart or thoughts, darling." She rested her other hand on her chest. "You or William."
"I know, love. I'll try to subdue my envy just a bit longer, until you come home."
"Thank you, my dear. I'm just sorry I didn't have the courage to tell you sooner—"
"No, pet, it’s my fault. All the warning signs were there. I just didn't want to read them."
"So long as you know how grateful I am for your love and trust and understanding," she said, smiling up at him tearfully.
"Those are all the gifts you've given me. I could hardly do any less for my beloved, now could I? Nor begrudge anyone you giving them the same gifts, so long as you promise you'll marry me soon."
"I do, I do promise."
He stooped to kiss her. "Then I'll do my own duty, and wait for you back home in Quebec. And thank God every day for your love, and the fact that you've finally developed the last gift of womanhood, sweet speech."
She giggled at that reminder of the legend of Emer, and threw her arms around his neck to kiss him.
"I haven't heard you laugh in so long, my love. It suits you," he said against her ear as he spun her around until they were both breathless.
"It feels good," she said, nodding. "Thank you."
"Glad to help."
"I love you so much."
He grinned down at her. "I know. You don't even have to say it. I've always seen it in your eyes. Yet at last, I believe it. Feel worthy of it. And feel able to bestow it in return. And not just to you, my love, but our family, and friends. To my mother, and to our son when I find him."
"Amen to that."
Emer paused in the prison gateway, and stretched up to kiss him passionately one last time. He caressed her cheek for a moment as if memorising her face, and then got in to the waiting carriage with a sigh.
"I'll see you soon, my dearest love."
"Yes, Dalton, I promise. And 'If I have freedom in my love, And in my soul am Free, Angels alone that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.'"
He smiled as she quoted the poem to him. "Au revoir, my angel."
"Goodbye, love!" She closed the door of his carriage, and continued waving at it long after it had vanished out of sight.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Once Dalton had left, Emer went back to her cell to gather up her small bundle of clothes. She longed to follow after Dalton, but something deep within her told her that this was for the best. That her work in Ireland was not quite finished yet.
She reassured herself that she would see him soon, and once she did, the two of them would share the most heated passion once again.
She went to the hotel to rest for a few hours and make herself presentable. As she soaked in the tub, she recalled the bath she and Dalton had shared together. How his hands had whispered over her body, massaged her scalp as he had washed her hair, and caressed her…
Her face flamed, and she felt flooded with the most urgent desire. She was tempted to let her hand slip down in the tub to ease the edgy need her leave-taking of Dalton had sent coursing through her, but now was not the time, not when there was still so much awaiting her attention.
So she hauled herself out of the tub hastily, and not daring to linger as she dried herself off, she got dressed quickly, and sought out the Jenkinses to discuss all their plans for the day now that she was staying, before launching into her never-ending round of chores again.
Though Emer missed Dalton every day and night that she was separated from him, and longed for his heated kisses and caresses, never once did she doubt the wisdom of her course.
The prison farm, set up along the same lines as the orphanage, was a huge old eighteenth-century building which Emer had been able to buy cheaply.
After it had been converted by local carpenters into dormitories similar to those she had had in Quebec, the young offenders had been moved into the house from Clonmel prison on New Year’s Day. The three hundred and fifty inmates had first been scrubbed clean and given new warm clothes, and had then begun their reading and writing lessons, and had a turn in the carpentry and blacksmithing workshops.
The livestock they had purchased was as scrawny as the inmates, but Emer was convinced that three meals a day for all of them would build them up by the spring.
Given the headship of the organising committee, with the Clonmel prison governor Mr. Collins visiting in the evenings, and Charlie, Sam and Emily’s tireless help, Emer balanced the books, keep tabs on all the staff, established duty rosters, and watched the inmates slow progress from hopeless starvelings to skilled workers.
Emer spent a small fortune buying seed potatoes by the score, and also seed for vegetable and grain, and waited for the good spring weather to arrive with great impatience.
The soup kitchen in the town continued to feed the starving multitudes, and Sam Jenkins also oversaw the conversion of the warehouses Emer had purchased with Dalton’s help into copies of the weaving, basketmaking and sewing workshops she had had in Quebec.
Emer paid a decent wage to the women to make clothes for the men in the prison farm first, and then for the men in Clonmel prison itself.
As the men on the prison farm began to produce finer goods, the wrought iron ware and furniture was sold abroad, and the profits put back into the enterprise.
In addition, Emer made her regular evening rounds of the prison, and always made sure she looked in on Terence and O’Brien to fill them in on all the progress being made.
Every night before she went to bed at the hotel, Emer tried to write a cheerful sounding letter to Dalton, who sent many kind words of encouragement once he had returned safely to Canada, as well as money, and several shiploads of food, timber, and farming implements.
He also sent Jim Beckett, back from the west, and some other crewmen to help man the two ships he sent as training vessels to be used to take another two hundred young lads out of Clonmel prison and into gainful employment.
Though not all of the boys proved suitable for a seafaring life, it was yet another successful experiment, and Governor Collins used the five pounds per man that he received from Dalton to improve the conditions in other prisons, and set up similar prison farms in the area.
Emer never realised how much she would miss Dalton until he was gone. Though she was always so busy, she yearned for his warm reassuring presence by her side, as well as the sound of his voice, his rich throaty laugh, and seeing his warm golden eyes.
True, William was lost to her forever, she knew that now, bu
t was it worth risking losing Dalton’s love over her grief for her missing child? They were both young enough that they could start afresh, have other children, and be happy together.
Emer felt an increasingly urgent need to go home, but she had given her promise to wait with Terence and O’Brien until they were transported to Tasmania.
In addition, there was so much to do with the spring planting, and lambing and calving seasons, that Emer had to content herself with writing even longer letters on her more sleepless nights, and working harder during the day in an effort to leaving things well-organised so she could finally go home.
The Hungry Heart Fulfilled (The Hunger of the Heart Series Book 3) Page 26
