by Lignor, Amy
A walkway extended around the roof where well-dressed guests were mingling while sipping champagne. It looked as if a grand flock of birds had gathered to watch the amazing event from above. The women’s gowns had dangerously low necklines adorned with lace and ribbons. Their fake smiles and fluttering eyelashes were aimed at the rich, eligible bachelors in their midst.
Faith tugged on the back of Liz’s hair. “We should’ve changed clothes.”
“Little late now, don’t you think?” Liz grumbled.
“My hair is gross. I have no color…no perfume ” Faith sniffed the air. “God, we smell like horses. We aren’t exactly making a good first impression.”
Charles suddenly pulled Faith into his arms, causing shocked stares from the pedestrians. “You couldn’t make a bad impression if you tried. You could be covered in mud with the clothes of an orphan and you would still outshine these people from a mile away.”
He released an embarrassed Faith, completely oblivious to the whispers coming from the crowd.
Liz laughed at her friend’s red face. “You have color now…one down.”
“Shut up.”
“But you’re still a little pale,” Jason whispered in Liz’s ear.
Liz’s heart flipped in her chest as she heard the need in his voice. Swaying in his arms as heat flowed through her, she turned toward the staircase. “Let’s get this over with.”
Faith nodded. “We’re better than these people on our worst day.”
“I know,” Liz replied. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the fire that was burning out of control inside her soul. She prayed that she wouldn’t pass out like some fragile female as she tried to come to grips with the depth of Jason’s passion.
She raced up the stairs to the front door, where an immaculately dressed man was handing out candles wrapped in fresh flowers. “Here you are, miss.”
The servant looked up and shuddered as he focused on her disheveled appearance. “I’m sorry, miss. Do you have an invitation?”
Liz’s brave front started to waver.
“Why would the young lady need an invitation if she’s with me, Anthony?”
“Master Charles!” The old man’s eyes popped out of his skull. “What are you doing here? I thought you were gone for good. I mean…it’s wonderful to see you again, sir.”
“Thank you, Anthony.” Charles put his hand on the old man’s shoulder. “I’m not staying long. We just popped in to get some of the finest grub in Ireland.” He smiled, looking around the room. “Speaking of which, where’s Martha?”
“She’s in the kitchen as always while continuing to trouble me from now until eternity.”
Charles laughed. “That’s what marriage is all about, Anthony. Who will bury who first?” He swung around to include Faith in their conversation. “Speaking of which, I’d like you to meet two young ladies.”
He brought Faith up to the doorway to stand beside Liz. “We have here, Faith and Elizabeth. They saved me during one of Ireland’s most violent storms.”
Anthony’s lips broke into a wide grin. The sudden smile completely erased the wrinkles on his weathered face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Thank you for saving him and making him smile again. For that, let me welcome you to Dublin.”
The butler kissed Faith’s hand then turned to Liz, offering her a sweet smile. “I’m sure you’ll love Martha’s cooking as much as Charles does. She’s a handful sometimes but she has a gift when it comes to the kitchen.”
Faith hugged him. Backing up, she noticed his shocked expression. “I’m sorry! I’m…we’re…” she stopped, and pointed to Liz. “We’re from a place where you show your gratitude for kind words. I was really scared to come here tonight, but meeting you has made it all worthwhile.”
Charles laughed and took Faith’s hand. “We’ll leave you to it, Anthony. We’re off to find Martha.”
The older man reached out quickly and grabbed Charles’ arm. His face grew serious. “Your father and Angela are in the drawing room. Be very careful, Charles. There are many who want to destroy you here.”
Fear rumbled in the pit of Liz’s stomach at their strange exchange. Anthony smiled at her and patted Charles on the back of the head. “I’m glad you’re back. If you need anything—you, or your friends—let me know.”
“Thanks, Anthony,” Charles said as he led Liz and Faith down the ornate hall. “Coming, Jason?”
Liz heard the chilly tone re-enter the old man’s voice. “Jason.”
Jason’s eyes were black as coal. “Anthony.”
Anthony broke the uncomfortable stare and refocused on Liz. “What’s your name again, miss?”
“Elizabeth,” she replied, reaching for Jason’s hand. “I’m his friend.”
“Oh…well…take care and enjoy your evening.” He dismissed them quickly, as a parade of fancy dresses descended upon him.
Liz watched Anthony over her shoulder as she started to move away. Her heart beat faster when a strange glint of recognition suddenly appeared in the old man’s eyes. Taking Jason’s hand, she hurried to catch up to Charles and Faith.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Charles flew through the hall, pushing people aside who’d run up to greet him. He kept his eyes firmly locked on a small white door in the corner.
“Excuse me…sorry…pardon me,” Faith apologized nonstop, as Charles pulled her behind him like an out-of-control horse. She bumped into elegantly clad waiters, sending their serving trays crashing to the floor. “Charles…stop!”
Jason moved slower, keeping his gaze firmly aimed at the ground. No one ran up to greet him. In fact, the crowd seemed to back away letting him march by undisturbed.
Charles threw open the small, white door and pushed Faith into the room.
Jason rushed Liz over the threshold slamming the door behind them. Stumbling into the room, she grabbed the back of the first available chair desperately trying to regain her balance.
Faith fell sideways into a table arranged with platters of fruits and vegetables. She moaned when her knee connected with the hard surface. “Charles! What’s wrong with you?”
“Sorry,” he said with an apologetic smile. “I didn’t want to talk to anyone just yet.”
Jason offered a nervous grin; a thin layer of sweat covered his face. “We really wanted you to meet Martha before the pain begins.”
“Seems to me that your pain met us at the door,” Liz whispered.
Jason reached for a chair; his body trembling. “Martha?” he called out.
An older lady in her mid-fifties came running through the pantry door. Her face reminded Liz of a cherub—pink cheeks and brown eyes filled with warmth and love. Liz had to resist the sudden urge to run into the plump woman’s arms. She exuded the kind of peace only a grandmother can give.
Martha clapped her hands at the sight of the young men standing in her kitchen. “Saints be praised! You’re back!” she cried. With a strange little hop, she managed to reach up and wrap her short arms around both of them at once.
They each bent down and practically lifted the small woman off the floor.
“My boys! My boys! Let me take a look at you. How are you? Where have you been?” Her tone was filled with worry. “I thought something horrible had happened to you. Cat got your tongues? Nothing to say for yourselves, have you? I think scaring an old woman to death deserves an apology at the very least!”
She pushed them roughly into two chairs at the kitchen table and began ladling hot soup into large bowls. “Did you go to America? Are you back for good? I could whip your hides for worrying me so! And, Anthony…” she continued, glaring at Jason. “Anthony has been scared to death—almost went off after you, he did. Imagine that! He was worried he’d find your dead bodies buried in the dirt.”
Jason snorted, “Yeah, he really looked worried.”
Martha reached up and slapped him on the back of the neck. “You show him some respect.”
“Sorry,” Jason mumbled.
Her face softened immediately. “Let me look at the two of you. You were always adorable, but now you’re the handsome, rugged men I always knew you’d be.” She joyfully pinched their cheeks. “The girls will be heartsick tonight. But it’s hard to vie for a young man’s attention in the strange shoes they all wear now. In my day, you needed a good pair of slippers to run a man down and catch him. Now they think you’ll just come to them. Ridiculous—the lot of them! Dressing in outfits that a true lady would be ashamed to be seen in. Stay away from the predators tonight, boys. None of them are good enough for you.”
Charles laughed. “Do you ever run down, woman? When do I get that soup you’re holding? My stomach’s growling.” He winked at the old woman as she caught her breath. “That’s what we came back for, by the way—your food, not your lecturing.”
Martha smacked him on the chin. “You’re just as flippant as the day you were born. I should take you over my knee.”
“Can’t wait,” Charles said with a grin. “But feed me first.”
Martha blushed like a schoolgirl. “You need something all right, but a slap would serve you better than all the soup in the world. Maybe starvation would make you come down off your high horse for a while.”
“You’ve got a point. I do need something, and I think it’s about time you met her.”
Jason and Charles stepped back allowing Martha see the two females waiting in the corner. “May I present to you the life-saving duo of Faith and Elizabeth,” Charles announced.
Martha moved quickly past the two young men. “Well, good Lord, let’s see what we have here now.”
Charles proclaimed, “Just the two loveliest ladies in all of Ireland. First, meet Faith.” His smile grew wide. “My wife.”
“Your what?”
“Wife,” Charles replied. “We’re married.”
“My God!” Her eyes grew wide and her skin grew pale.
“Martha, it’s okay.”
She swallowed. “Boy, she’ll need your protection here.”
“It’s okay. We’ll…”
She waved him away. “Quiet! Go and eat. You too, boy,” she said to Jason, offering one last kiss on the cheek before shooing him away.
“Yes, Mum,” he replied. Taking off across the room, he sat down beside Charles and gazed at the scrumptious food.
Martha’s eyes were filled with curiosity. “Have a seat, ladies. You’re going to have to sit through an old woman’s questions. I hope you don’t mind.”
Faith giggled. “Not at all, ma’am.”
Martha smiled and patted her cheek. “Good…sit.”
Liz breathed a short sigh of relief when Martha aimed her gaze at Faith. Liz was slightly embarrassed for her best friend, as the older woman reached out and removed broken bits of twigs from her hair. “You’re not one of Charles’ regular picks. Hardworking, I see.”
“You mean poor,” laughed Faith, as she ogled the slices of warm bread on the table.
Martha followed her hungry gaze. “By all means, child, eat. I’d much rather have someone who actually works for a living enjoy it. Charles is the exception, of course.”
“Hey!” Charles spoke up from his chair beside the stove. “I’ve worked before.” He looked at Jason’s amused expression, shrugged and went back to his soup.
Martha continued, “Quiet, boy. If you don’t want to hear the truth, then I suggest you go outside and eat.”
“It’s cold outside,” Charles whined.
“Then suffer,” Martha replied, turning her attention back to Faith. She picked up her hand looking it over. “Yup, a hard worker.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Faith frowned as she stared down at the rough hands of a poor, Irish serving girl.
“What do you do?”
“We owned a pub in our village, ma’am.”
“Martha…please,” she said, waving her hand in the air. “Owned it, you say? Women owning a pub…strange.”
“Yes…Martha. It was left to Liz when her family passed away. The town took care of us, so we made the pub work for the town. Gave something back to them,” Faith answered.
Martha voiced her appreciation. “Good for you! Competent, intelligent—you both must be very capable. You’ll have to be, now you’re married to Charles.”
Faith laughed, “Apparently, patience is a virtue I’ll need as well.”
Martha’s eyes filled with happy tears. “I love the boy. You’re lucky, I know how it feels to be blessed with a loving husband.”
Jason let out a snort by the fire. Catching himself, he looked over at Liz. His face was bright red.
Liz turned back to the older woman who was now patting her knee.
“Don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine. Besides, you’re up next so you should pay attention,” Martha said with a wink.
Liz smiled back.
Martha turned her attention back to Faith. “I want to congratulate you on your bravery.”
“Bravery?”
Martha smiled when Charles snickered. “He’s a handful. But seeing the way you look at him, the damage is already done.”
Faith grinned. “Yes.”
“If you need any advice during your stay, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m sure the good Lord has granted you the spirit to tame his wild ways, so it’s good you like hard work.”
“Thank you. However, I have a feeling that Charles will need a lot more help than I will. Something tells me he’ll need an older woman’s perspective from time to time just to learn how to deal with me.”
Martha’s laughter was so loud it shook the elegant china on the shelf. She turned in her chair to meet Charles’ amazed expression. “You’ve finally met your match, boy!”
“Don’t rub it in, old woman. I’m fully aware of the trap that’s sealed my fate.” He smiled and brought a chicken leg to his lips, ripping the poultry apart as though it were his very last meal.
“Your turn,” Martha said turning her whole body towards Liz.
Liz jumped. Dropping the slice of bread she was buttering, she nervously folded her hands in her lap.
Martha smiled. “Don’t worry, child. I’m an old woman and forget things easily.”
Charles snorted. “Ha! Don’t believe a word she says, Liz. She’s like a snake stalking a cellar rat.”
“Quiet!” Martha waved him away. “So…you’re Liz?”
“Elizabeth. Yes…Liz.”
“Family all gone?”
Liz met the woman’s intrusive gaze. “They died when I was very young.”
Martha nodded. “You’re eighteen, maybe nineteen at the most? No wedding band. The light in your eyes is more serious than your friend’s.” She shrugged her shoulders placing her head back against the wooden chair. “You could be my age underneath that youthful exterior, what with all the wisdom I see dancing in your eyes.”
Liz stared down at her faded dress. Martha seemed determined for the conversation to go on long into the night, if their answers to her questions were deemed unsatisfactory. She was quite protective of her boys and, when Liz met Jason’s gaze, she suddenly realized that she wanted this woman’s approval more than anything else in the world.
Taking the napkin that Martha offered to her, Liz cleaned the dirt from her hands. She took a deep breath and began to speak, “I’ll be nineteen this November. I have no husband. I’ve owned the pub for a long time. With the help of Faith and the town, it became my life.”
She looked up at Jason and slowly altered her words, careful not to reveal the secrets that could never again see the light of day. “My mother died in childbirth and my father quickly followed. Just recently my bar burned to the ground, and I’ve been rebuilding my life ever since.”
Liz continued, but she could barely hear her voice over her thumping heart. “During a storm, your two young men over there appeared in my life and I’m so thankful that I had enough brains to invite them in. I’ve been blessed by their presence ever since.” Liz took a deep breath, knowing this woman would see through her
if she didn’t speak the truth. “And I mean absolutely no disrespect when I say this, but I’ve become so fond of them, that there was a part of me that wanted to slap you when you hit Jason and caused him even one moment of pain.”
Martha stared at her speechless. Charles’ jaw dropped open, letting a tiny line of butter drip down his chin. Jason remained quiet, but a huge grin appeared across his face.
Instead of the anger Liz thought she’d see, love and affection beamed from Martha’s eyes. “I can call you daughter, then. That was the nicest thing I’ve heard in my entire life.” A smile spread across her face. “You should know that I slap both of them on occasion, but it’s nice of you to warn me beforehand so I don’t do it in your presence.”
Liz smiled back. “I don’t tolerate rudeness, either. So in general, I do agree with your form of punishment.”
Martha brought her fist down on the table as Jason beamed with pride. “Go to Mass on Sunday, boy, and thank the saints for this one,” she said as she rose from the table. “Now, you sit. I’ll get you more food. You’re too skinny, the lot of you.”
Faith spoke up, “I would love more. Everything tastes so wonderful. I can help serve, if you like? Just don’t ask that one.” She pointed her finger at Liz.
Martha smiled. “And why should I not ask her?”
Liz blushed. “Faith says that I’m useless in the kitchen. She’s probably scared that if I touch anything, I’ll somehow ruin all your hard work.”
“Not to worry, I’m a very good teacher. Oh, and both of you are going to call me Martha—no more of this ma’am, fiddle-faddle. It’s just not suitable for family.” Martha gathered them into a big hug. “You’re good girls.”
“Martha! What are you doing in there?” A shrill screech shot through the closed door. It sounded like a raven caught in the wheel of a carriage…high-pitched and demonic. The door swung open and a very tall woman marched like a well-trained soldier over the threshold.
Faith stepped away from the door and moved closer to Liz, who’d backed into the corner for safety. Charles sent his bowl crashing to the floor; the spoon clanging on the tile.
