Cailín (Lass) (Anam Céile Chronicles)

by Scarlett, Rosalind

  She looked up and noted the connection upon me face as I listened.

  “As we predicted, she wanted naught to do with him, claiming she would never concede to marrying that old man, she would only marry her love. We attempted to smooth things over with Siobhán. I assured her that she would soon be happy and would grow to love her husband, or at least would grow fond of him, and in time she would forget Kieran. Moreover, she and her children would be comfortably provided for.

  Siobhán refused to hear anything of it. Finally, her father asserted it had all been quite settled and was in everybody’s best interest. The wedding was scheduled for the end of that week. She screamed that she hated us and locked herself in her room for days. Believe me, Aislinn, it tugged at my heart so to listen to her irrepressible lamenting sobs.”

  “The first few months after the wedding, I tried not to let Siobhán’s miserable behaviour affect me, convinced she would adjust and find some joy in her new life soon enough.” Misses O’Connor took a deep breath before proceeding. “Yet still, I found it difficult to shake the dead expression her face had taken on.

  “And then she became with child, and I saw some life return to her, bestowing me with a grand hope. I was certain the baby would help aid her acclimation.” she spoke, though not sure whether ‘twas to me or herself.

  I listened on as Misses O’Connor continued, easily imagining how I would feel were it me. “One day during a visit, I decided to talk with her and see if I could somehow help her through her adjustment. It was then I only began to realise that which she had already withstood. Through her indignity, Siobhán revealed to me hesitantly, that which had transpired since she had wed that man.”

  I gripped the sofa, anticipating the various possibilities leading to the final consequences of which already I be aware.

  “I shall not retell the things she told me that day, for a lass innocent as you shan’t be subjected to the details of such obscenities. Only I will tell you that he not be regarding her in the manner of a wife, more precisely demanding acts of her only fit for that of a whore.”

  She waited a moment while the comprehension of what she said registered upon me face. When she perceived that it had, she continued her story, her face contorting in her sorrow.

  “Siobhán confessed to me that she sought out her former lover, as she felt Kieran would be the only one to understand her distress over enduring her husband’s exploitation of her. And ‘twas his son she soon thereafter bore. Your Donovan.”

  Me hand flew to me heart, the words stunning me.

  Not any inkling had I of this!

  “The abuse of Siobhán by her husband continued, and so did she continue seeing her lover in secret, most times with their child. Once when she came to him with dreadful contusions upon her face, Kieran became so enraged that he determined to confront her husband for his treatment of the woman he loved and reveal to him that the child was actually his own. He expected her husband would merely cast out her and the child, and he could then take them on as he originally intended.

  “Knowing the character of her husband as she did, Siobhán knew better. That day, she brought the child here to me so that he would not be present for whatever would inevitably ensue. A wretched feeling I had in the pit of my stomach and I begged her not to return there. She smiled and told me not to fret and kissed me and her baby before she marched out the door to her fate.

  “The whole of that day I did wait, clutching tightly to my precious grandson, the pit in me stomach carving deeper and deeper. Alas, I heard nothing. When that night she had not returned for the child, we knew in our hearts that something treacherous had occurred. Thus, late that night, Mister O’Connor went to the home of her husband to determine the situation.”

  Misses O’Connor cast her eyes down, yet still I could see the pain there in them. “When he arrived, he discovered our Siobhán . . .” her eyes became excruciating and she had to swallow rigidly to speak. “. . . she was departed . . . murdered.” she paused another moment, looking down at her hands.

  When she looked up again, a tear escaped down her face. “I knew in me heart the moment she left the baby with us to go deal with that man alone that no good could come of it, but her father refused to accept it. Not long thereafter, the whole truth came to light.”

  Growing impatient, I waited to hear the consequence. She weighed whether to fill me in on what had happened or leave it at that fer me to draw me own conclusions. She looked at me and something she saw in me face motivated her decision.

  She sighed deeply as she revealed to me the conclusion of her heartbreak story. “Evidently, my talk with Siobhán had changed her perspective and had given her the inspiration to rise against his maltreatment of her. For that I shall forever honour her. Regrettably though, before she arrived, Kieran informed him that the child was indeed his own. Upon her arrival, her infuriated husband struck her repeatedly ‘til death did find her.”

  Me horror must have been evidenced all over me face, fer she reached over and hugged me tight to her. I began sobbing audibly.

  “’Tis alright dear. Many years ago that was, and he did reap that which he sowed.”

  I looked to her questioningly.

  “Kieran returned to discover his beloved slain and in his rage, and with his bare hands, he did deprive that man of taking another breath. When poor Mister O’Connor arrived that night, the scene he came upon was one of her lover sobbing and clutching to Siobhán’s lifeless body, her husband dead upon the floor in the next room.” She paused, shaking her head in sorrow. “I just thank God the baby, Donovan, was here safe with us!”

  As I be! What a weight to carry! This be the heartbreak they endured, taking blame, ignoring the desperate pleas of their daughter. Sorry fer them I be, but what should they expect in forcing such a fate upon her? And what gives a man the right to hold his wife accountable by her life if she follows her heart and refuses to commit vile acts in order to please him?

  If fathers would not treat daughters as commodities or cattle to simply trade off to the highest bidder, and men would not treat their wives as mere contrivances serving to satisfy their libido, things of this horrific nature would never happen! Thankful I be, I have absconded such a tragic fate and be free to marry the man of me own choosin’, the man I love.

  Following our conversation, she assisted me in me washing up, so that by the time Donovan came back through the door that evening, I would be presentable once again. Misses O’Connor dug out her daughter’s remaining clothes and granted them to me, since I had escaped with naught but those which be upon me back. Though casual, still, they were much nicer clothes than anything ever I had possessed.

  When Donovan walked through the door, I startled him by dashing up and assailing him with a hearty embrace. Upon spotting me in his mother’s clothes, I discerned the residual sadness transmitted through the smile which painted his face.

  How unfortunate fer him that he never knew his mother! At least he had this good woman to care fer him!

  Dusk just falling, by carriage Donovan drove me to Deirdre’s new home in Galway. Though it would take into the late night hours afore we arrived, ‘twas glad I be fer the long ride, fer the chance to be with him fer that prolonged time.

  He drove on in silence, seeming reflective, and I wondered whether it be in regards to the situation which I had brought upon him or if he ruminated over thoughts of his mother long gone. After the long day, me emotional outbursts of that morning, and the traumatic past night, fer once I welcomed the silence and sleep soon found me as I rested me head upon his shoulder.

  We arrived at Deirdre’s home in the late hours. Still, I cannot fathom how Donovan knew to find it so easily! To me wonder, they resided in a moderately large white country manor, as nothing in Éire ever I had set me eyes upon! Suppose I should not have been astonished so, her family had always been reasonably prosperous. And since parents strive to have their lasses marry above their present social position, Fergus’s family must
have been even wealthier.

  When their butler did not know us, Deirdre came to the door to investigate the cause fer the visitors at such a late hour.

  “Aislinn!” she startled, stunned to see me. Quickly the surprised look she wore became quizzical.

  “’Tis quite the extensive story.” I sighed heavily.

  Then remembering me always atrocious manners, I turned to the beloved lad at me side. “Donovan, be acquainted with me cousin, Deirdre.”

  Realization swept across her face, as he took her hand and swiftly she glanced over to me, eyes wide with approval. Suddenly, I had the distressing thought of him being taken with her. After all, she be the most álainn lass ever I have known. Of course, she be a married woman now, but still I hoped he would not become smitten with her and thus not continue to perceive me in the unexplainable way he has ‘til now.

  “Please do come in and sit,” she so graciously invited. “Dreadfully weary from your travels you must be!”

  “Suppose I do look a fright, then?” I excused meself.

  “Nonsense, Aislinn. Actually, I cannot quite put my finger upon it, but I would dare to say you appear better than ever I have seen you!” she pronounced, winking at me as she looked me over approvingly. I pretended not to know what she meant as I suppressed the urge to giggle.

  “Why, thank you, Deirdre!” I obliged. “And dare I say that, likewise, you appear inconceivably all the more lovely since last I saw you!”

  “You are much too kind, dear cousin” she replied, leading us into the parlor.

  The interior of their home be far beyond the elegance I had expected.

  The instant we stepped inside, we were accosted by this ostentatious object flashing a spectacle of lights and garish gems suspended from the high white ceilings, which were carved with elabourate patterns. I squinted from the stark illumination glaring straight into me eyes.

  Once me eyes had carefully adjusted much as they could, I looked around further. It seemed that every conceivable surface had either carvings or be shrouded in frenzied patterns of florae or spinning swirls. ‘Twas all stark white and in pastels shades of yellow, blue, green and red. Colours that, up until then, never had I witnessed in use in any home.

  Audacious!

  The floors were of a square cut, polished stone, I presumed. I feared I would surely slip upon them when walking through, so smooth they be!

  Fergus walked in to greet us just then. Deirdre rose to meet him as she proceeded to introduce us. “Darling, certainly you do remember my dear cousin, Aislinn MacAuliffe.” His eyes widened in hearing that before him stood the same unkempt little brat he recalled having plagued his future wife’s family with her presence each summer, save fer the last.

  Fergus moved toward me, taking me hand lightly in his to kiss it. I smiled at him gracefully as I could fare. He returned it with a rather sophisticated smile. I had to admit, he definitely not be the gangly lad I evoked from our childhood. Long and lean he be with charming features and the same deep auburn hair, yet somehow it all came together quite nicely now.

  Certain I spotted a smirk form upon Deirdre’s mouth, she continued the introduction. “And this be, Donovan.” They nodded to each other in acknowledgement.

  “Can you believe they drove all the way here from Ballyvaughan just this eve?” she informed him in amazement as she led us into the parlor. “Aislinn was nearly on the threshold of apprising us the paradoxical events which has led them so fortuitously to our door tonight,” Deirdre portrayed to him as she courteously motioned fer us all to be seated.

  The upholstered furnishings in this exclusive room echoed the quantity of carvings and patterns as elsewhere. So extravagant they were, I could scarcely fathom they be fer actual use.

  Thus, once more I retold the story of yesterday’s events projecting me to this moment.

  “Oh you poor thing!” be all Deirdre could manage to utter, her face becoming increasingly more struck by revulsion as I recapitulated the words of me father. “Quite bold you are, Aislinn! Are you not terrified he will come for you?”

  “Not a lone care remains fer him with me.” I stated unfeelingly, waving me hand.

  The three of them just silently glanced to one another, apparently all shocked in sensing the same deathly coldness emanating from me voice.

  Deidre and Fergus so kindly insisted that Donovan retire there fer the night, so that he may drive back fresh in the light of morning. How arduous ‘twas to behave knowing he was just down the corridor sleeping in the very same house as I, with no father to hinder me!

  That be the most arduous night of me life to that point! Lay in bed awake did I fer those endless hours; stirring, trying to talk meself out of sneaking in and stealing into bed with him! Feel his arms about me, the heat of his skin upon mine, our bodies pressed close, safe in each other! How I desired to breathe him in so deeply I might taste his scent in me throat, savour it.

  Envisaging what it would be like to know the feel of his form, all of him, activated a fresh desire in me propelling me hands to wander across me own body. What first began as an exploration of Donovan’s body in me mind, eventually came to rest upon the newfound veiled gem where me fingers thus lingered until they brought the euphoria which carried me ever so high and away before gently setting me adrift in slumber at last.

  Several weeks passed and I be most relieved, yet still in shocking disbelief, that me father had not come to retrieve me. Deirdre and Fergus had assured me that I would be safe here. Not ever would he be allowed to set foot in their home, under any circumstances, and had given strict word to all those employed at the manor. A simulated sense of calm attempted to spread over me.

  Still, trust it, I did not.

  Nevertheless, quite easily I found meself growing accustomed to me new life there; particularly in setting aside the perpetual need to be vigilant, expecting the typical unjustified insults and blows. I did, however, miss Morrissey and the other animals I used to occupy me days tending to.

  Moreover, I missed me mama. I wondered how me impetuous decision had affected her. Yet, most certain I be she did sympathize. I could not believe she would have wished me be wed to that old goat! I know she would wish me every happiness, and always she did see how joyful Donovan indeed made me!

  Sure I be that someday soon I would yet again see those I held near to me heart.

  I had the sense that somehow Donovan blamed himself fer the whole situation. What he fell short of grasping, be that he saved me; fer lived without him after all those years I had waited, I could not. Never could I have been content being forced to be wed to someone else— anyone else— least of all Aengus!

  That next month in the early fall of October, Donovan requested me accompany him to the Árainn Islands. Elated I be, in part because most unquestionably, never would father have allowed me such an excursion, and with me love, no less!

  Deirdre and Fergus happily went along, fretful to make sure I did not provoke any more trouble fer meself, being an unmarried woman, alone with a male escort fer several days.

  What the ordeal ‘twas to voyage there from the mainland! We first drove by carriage to Galway Bay to board the ferryboat fer the several hour trip to the islands. Donovan pointed in the direction of the three small off-shore islands, clearly visible from the mainland, yet tantalizingly out of reach.

  Never before had I been on a ferry, and found it incredibly exhilarating being atop the water! ‘Twas a balmy day, yet even one such as that can be too windy out on the rough waters of the open Atlantic sea!

  A remote place of dramatic scenery and breathtaking beauty, the Islands seemed to defy their size with their cliffs, medieval castles, prehistoric stone forts, early Christian ruins and sandy beaches. A certain mystical quality they have which draws one back to the past and a more simple way of life. A rich folklore there exists among the islanders, a serious looking and yet friendly people, they would proudly recount. One would not hear a word of English spoken there nor any hint of their
influences.

  The landscape of all three islands, much as the Boireann was wild and wind swept, rugged and spectacular— steep, rugged cliffs rising from a mean sea, a uniquely blanketed rock surface glazed with man-made rock walls that meander and cross all directions as far as one could see. During the late season, severe gales customarily sweep the islands.

  A stark beauty there be about these islands and the simple lives of its peoples. Though precious little of the land is productive, they make a precarious living from fishing and farming. They learnt how to live off the sea shore because times were hard and the food scarce.

  The scoured bedrock, slight in the way of soil fer farming, thus ingeniously ‘twas formed by the islanders— the outcome of centuries of efforts in layering seaweed with sand. These resourceful sea-faring people made use of Curraghs, boats covered in cow-hides, to brave the wild waters fishing.

  Arrived we did in Inis Mhór, the largest of the three islands, to the most uncharacteristic sunshine and proceeded to be subjected to every version of bad weather in the days thereafter, serving only to enhance its incontestable charm. It be a fascinating place of a geological nature with its roughened peninsula edges and wild stretches of uninhabitable coastline where over the eons deep fissures have been carved by the pounding waves of the Atlantic Ocean.

  One such fascination be the worm hole, a large natural square hole in the ground beside the sea, and the puffing holes where inland holes in the ground, sprout random fountains of water high into the air on a turbulent day.

  Whilst on Inis Mhór we visited Dún Aonghasa, an Iron Age fort situated upon the edge of a cliff at a height of some hundred metres overlooking the Atlantic. It consists of a series of concentric four metre thick circular walls of stone. Fer the past seventeen centuries, angry waves have battered away at its black foundation, three hundred feet straight down. Even with nothing more to guard, still it stands strong, overlooking the sea from its perch upon the cliff-edge.