by Brenda Joyce
There was joy in returning; there was dread.
Eleanor took her hand. “We will be driving through the front gates in another minute or two, my girl. You are as white as a sheet. Chin up. There will be chaos, of course, but they will love Neddie. It is impossible not to.”
Lizzie somehow nodded, closing her eyes and trying to breathe as deeply as possible. She was assaulted by the smells of the morning rain, the fresh grass, lilac and hyacinth. Mama was going to be in hysterics, she thought miserably.
Lizzie reminded herself that she was not a child anymore. She had left home at sixteen, so naive and still more girl than woman; in May she had turned eighteen. She was a woman now, a woman and a mother…
“There they are!” Eleanor cried. “All turned out to greet you.”
Lizzie opened her eyes and saw Mama, Papa and Georgie standing in front of the house, smiling. Mama began to wave as their coach approached, clearly in a state of excitement. Georgie waved, too, beaming. Papa leaned on his cane—clearly, his arthritis was bothering him—but he, too, could not keep from smiling.
“I have missed them,” Lizzie whispered, suddenly forgetting the news she was bearing. Briefly there was nothing but anticipation and she leaned forward, smiling and waving back.
Eleanor spoke to Rosie. “Wait just a moment before you wake Ned and come down from the coach,” she instructed.
Rosie was a plump, freckled young woman just a few years older than Lizzie. She nodded. “Yes, mum.”
The coach had stopped. Lizzie did not wait for the footman to open the doors. She pushed them open, stumbling as she stepped down and her family rushed to her. “Mama! Papa! Georgie!” she cried, engulfed by them all.
Mama pulled her close first, embracing her for a long moment. “Lizzie! How could you stay away so long? Oh! Look at you! You are all grown up. Did you cut your hair? Have you lost weight? What a fine gown that is!” Mama was crying as she spoke.
“I did cut my hair and Aunt Eleanor was kind enough to buy me some gowns,” Lizzie said. “I missed you, Mama.”
“We have all missed you! And you did not even come home for Anna’s wedding!” Mama reproved, tears sparkling in her eyes.
Before Lizzie could answer, Papa had her in a bear hug. “How pretty you are!” he exclaimed. “But where is my chubby little girl?”
Lizzie couldn’t explain that running after a toddler was simply exhausting. “I’m still plump, Papa.”
“You must have lost a stone!” Papa explained, cupping her cheek. “Welcome home, child.”
Lizzie smiled at him. Then she turned to Georgie.
Georgie was crying, and swatting at her tears. She looked the same—tall and handsome, her dark blond hair falling in waves past her shoulders. They went into each other’s arms and clung.
Georgie said roughly, “I see life in Wicklow has agreed with you!”
“And you haven’t changed at all,” Lizzie returned. “You are still the tallest woman I know!” she teased.
They smiled. “You’ve been away too long, Lizzie. I was beginning to think you would never come home.”
Lizzie didn’t know what to say. “It’s so good to be back. You’re right—I have been away for too long.”
Georgie smiled and then glanced past Lizzie at Eleanor. “She hardly looks ill,” she remarked, her gaze narrowing with some suspicion.
Lizzie tensed, recalling the crisis about to be unleashed when she introduced Ned as her son.
Mama had overheard, as she was listening to their every word. “Hello, Eleanor. My, you must have made a remarkable recovery, as you are as handsome as ever! Or have you become so fond of my Lizzie that you decided you could not do without her?” Mama was displeased and hardly disguising it. Her tone was acid.
“I have become very fond of your youngest daughter, Lydia,” Eleanor returned evenly. “And I have had a remarkable recovery. Hello, Gerald.”
“Eleanor, we are so pleased you decided to come home with Lizzie,” Gerald said, meaning it.
She would tell them now, Lizzie thought miserably. But if Mama swooned she would have to be carried inside.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Georgie asked quickly in a low tone.
Instead of answering, Lizzie looked at Eleanor, who smiled encouragingly at her. “I have news.” She could barely get the words out. “Let’s go sit in the parlor.”
Eleanor reached for her and squeezed her hand.
Both Mama and Georgie saw the gesture. “What kind of news?” Mama asked in surprise.
“Good news,” Lizzie said as brightly as possible.
“Did you meet a man?” Mama cried out. “Are you engaged? Oh, please, tell me that is why you have been gone for so long!”
Lizzie said, “I think we should go inside and sit down.”
Eleanor took Mama’s arm, guiding her to the house. “Come, we will all go into the parlor for a sherry.”
Mama glanced at Lizzie as she was led inside, the family following. “What is going on? If it isn’t an engagement, what news could you possibly have?”
Lizzie stood by the door as Eleanor led Mama to the sofa. Georgie took a chair, while Papa stood before the hearth, leaning on his cane. Lizzie felt light-headed and faint. She wondered if she should bring Ned in first or declare his existence instead. Everyone was staring at her expectantly.
There was, she decided, simply no way to avoid the shock. She stepped back into the front hall and signaled Rosie to alight from the carriage and come inside. Then she returned to the parlor.
Lizzie tried to smile and failed. “There is a reason I went to Dublin in the first place, the very same reason I stayed away for well over a year,” she said hoarsely. She was trembling so badly that she moved to the side of the pianoforte so she could lean on it.
Mama seemed bewildered. Papa said mildly, “We know why you went to Dublin. Aunt Eleanor summoned you so that you could take care of her.”
Lizzie glanced briefly at Eleanor. The encouragement remained in her aunt’s eyes. She avoided meeting anyone else’s gaze now. “No. There was no summons. I forged that letter. Eleanor was not expecting me or Anna.”
Mama gasped.
Lizzie had to look at her mother. She was as pale as a corpse. Georgie was wide-eyed with disbelief. “What are you trying to tell us, Lizzie?” Georgie asked harshly. Lizzie knew her sister was already feeling betrayed. Papa was the only one who was not disturbed, as he trusted her so completely.
“I am sure Lizzie had a good reason for doing as she did,” he said.
Mama cried, “Why would you make up such a summons? Are you saying Eleanor was never ill?”
Lizzie heard Rosie entering the house. “Aunt Eleanor has enjoyed nothing but good health. I, however, had to leave the county. Mama, Papa, I am sorry.” She wet her lips. “I left because I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You are not making sense,” Georgie said, her attention riveted on Lizzie’s face.
Lizzie turned to face the front hall. Rosie stood there, Ned in her arms. He was yawning sleepily. Lizzie took him from her and returned to the room.
A shocked silence fell.
“This is Ned,” Lizzie said in a whisper. “My beautiful son.”
Mama turned white, her eyes popping. Papa and Georgie wore almost identical expressions of shock. Her entire family was speechless, it seemed.
And then Mama fell over in a faint, collapsing against the arm of the mint-green sofa. Eleanor began to fan her, prepared for this event, but no one else moved. It was as if Papa and Georgie did not even know that Mama had swooned. Then Georgie stood, incredulous, still staring at Lizzie. “My God,” she said.
Papa was looking at her with the same absolute disbelief. Then he came alive. He rushed over to the sofa, where Eleanor now had smelling salts under Mama’s nose. Mama coughed, coming to consciousness as he knelt at her side.
“I had to leave to have the baby,” Lizzie whispered, hugging Ned too tightly.
Ned awoke complete
ly and pushed at her shoulders. “Da,” he said, a command. “Da!” He had a vocabulary of a dozen words now.
“Hush,” Lizzie tried, barely looking at him. She felt a tear slipping down her cheek.
Georgie had covered her mouth with her hand. Her amber eyes were huge. “He is your son?” she asked as if she did not believe it.
Lizzie nodded. “Please love him the way that I do,” she somehow managed to say.
Tears filled Georgie’s eyes. She choked and sat down hard.
“Da!” Ned ordered. “Ned, da!”
Lizzie put him down. He clung to her legs in order to remain standing. Then he smiled at Georgie, two dimples appearing in his cheeks.
Finally, she looked at him, and when she really saw him, her eyes widened even more in sheer comprehension. In that moment, Lizzie knew she recognized Ned and knew that his father was Tyrell de Warenne.
Georgie’s stunned gaze went from Ned to Lizzie. The comprehension remained there, impossible to misread.
Lizzie was afraid.
Papa came to his senses. He launched himself to his feet without his cane, which he had dropped by the hearth. “Who is he? Lizzie, I demand to know who this child’s father is!” He was red with fury now. “I want to know who did this to you! By damn, he will make this right!”
Lizzie flinched. She had never seen her father lose his temper before, and she had never heard him curse, not once in her entire life. Papa was the most mild-mannered and gentle man she knew. But he looked ready to commit murder now. Lizzie shook her head. She had expected disappointment, but Papa was enraged.
“Do not tell me you don’t know who the father is!” Papa roared, shaking his fist at her. He was turning purple now.
Lizzie cried out. “Papa. Please. You will have a stroke. Please, sit down!”
But Papa did not move.
Mama moaned.
Lizzie bit her lip, turning from Papa to Mama, and as she did, she saw the accusation in Georgie’s eyes. Lizzie’s temples throbbed. This was far worse than she had expected, and she needed her sister as an ally now.
“Lizzie!” Mama cried, beginning to sob.
Lizzie hurried to her. Eleanor was helping her to sit upright. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she whispered, dropping to her knees and groping for her hand. Behind her, she heard Ned shriek in outrage as he fell to the floor. She glanced back and saw Georgie helping him up. She faced her mother again. “I’m so sorry!”
“Sorry! Sorry is not enough!” Mama cried. “You are ruined! Ruined!” she wailed, tears streaking her cheeks.
“But there is Ned,” Lizzie tried, swallowing. “Isn’t he handsome? And he is so clever, Mama. He is your grandson!”
“Handsome? Clever? You are ruined! We are all ruined! Oh, God, Mr. Harold will never marry Georgie now! He will break it off the moment he hears of this. Lizzie, how could you?”
“I’m sorry,” Lizzie said again, her heart feeling as if it had stopped. Surely Mama would love Ned, her own grandson!
“I demand to know the name of this child’s father immediately,” Papa said, barely controlling his fury.
Lizzie flinched. On her knees, she shifted to look at him. “It doesn’t matter,” she said vainly.
“It doesn’t matter? Of course it matters!” Mama screeched.
Ned was sitting on the floor, staring with avid interest at Mama. Georgie stood behind him, clearly watching after him.
“This is an intolerable situation and he will make things right,” Papa declared, his fists clenched.
Lizzie knew she must stop this subject immediately. “He’s married,” she said abruptly, hating having to tell another lie.
“He’s married?” Mama wept. “Oh, dear Lord, we are truly ruined. No one will ever have us into their homes again! Oh! Another child to raise—another mouth to feed!”
Lizzie was ill. She rocked back on her heels and sat down on the floor. Ned crawled to her and she took him onto her lap. “He is your grandson,” she whispered. “Not another mouth to feed.”
Mama covered her face with her hands, sobbing helplessly in sheer grief.
Lizzie looked at Papa, who sat beside Mama, his expression crushed with defeat. She trembled and looked at her aunt. “I should not have come home.”
Eleanor shook her head and said softly, “There was no other choice. Give them time.”
Mama dropped her hands and ceased crying. “How could you do this to us?” she demanded.
Lizzie did not know what to say. Slowly, she got to her feet. “I made a mistake.”
“Yes, a mistake that will cost everyone in this family. We will never survive this scandal,” Mama said bitterly.
Lizzie wondered if she would even have a roof over her head.
“Enough,” Papa said wearily. “Mama, enough. Lizzie never intended this. We have all suffered a great shock. I think we should adjourn this gathering for the moment. I am tired. I wish to lie down.” He groped for his cane and, using it, he stood. Appearing twenty years older than he was, he shuffled to the door.
Mama also stood. Leaning heavily on Eleanor, she gave Lizzie an accusing glance and followed Papa from the room, still on Eleanor’s arm. “I am going to my rooms and I do not wish to be disturbed,” she said, beginning to cry again, this time almost inaudibly.
Lizzie closed her eyes, alone now with Georgie and Ned.
Georgie shook her head, a tear finally spilling, and she walked out of the parlor, too.
Lizzie wished she had not come home.
8
A Remarkable Intention
Lizzie sat on her bed in the room she had shared with Anna. It was still her bedroom, but there was no comfort to be had in the two matching beds, the rose-and-white print walls, or the old bureau where she and Anna had stood together, morning after morning, unbraiding their hair. The familiar surroundings almost felt like a prison now, a prison of her own making. She hugged her knees to her chest while Ned scrambled about the floor, exploring his new environment under Lizzie’s watchful eye. Her chest ached.
What should she do now? She had the terrible feeling that she and Ned were not welcome at Raven Hall.
Tyrell’s handsome image came to mind and, with it, the unwanted thought that he would help her if she went to him. She bit her lip hard, drawing blood, tears finally falling. Her family was furious with her, furious and dismayed, and even Georgie was against her now. And she would never approach Tyrell.
There was always Glen Barry; there was always the house on Merrion Square.
Lizzie hugged her knees more tightly, afraid that her welcome with her aunt had been worn out some time ago. She had no means, no income. Dear God, if she wasn’t welcome at home, she might be out on the streets like a vagabond.
A soft knock sounded on her door.
Lizzie stiffened. “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Georgie said, opening the door. She did not move to come inside, her expression tightly arranged into one of anguish, hurt and even some anger.
Lizzie started to cry.
Georgie stood as stiffly as a soldier. Tears also came to her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Lizzie shook her head, incapable of speech, brushing the moisture from her eyes.
“I thought we were close. But you did not tell me of the most monumental event of your life—and you told Anna!” Georgie cried from the room’s threshold.
Lizzie finally pulled herself together. Self-pity would not serve her or her son now. “I was going to tell you in Dublin.” That was the truth. “But you refused to come, Georgie. And even you must see that I could not share such news in a letter. What if Mama had found it?”
Georgie came inside, closing the door behind her. She glanced at Ned once, some of the strain in her expression easing. “I should have gone to Aunt Eleanor’s with you and Anna! Then I would have helped! I love you so! I would do anything for you!” she cried.
Lizzie launched herself to her feet and ran to her sister, embracing her. Georgie’s body wa
s rigid, but as Lizzie held her, murmuring, “I never meant to hurt you,” she began to soften.
“I know,” Georgie whispered as the two sisters parted. “Forgive me for thinking of myself now, Lizzie. I cannot begin to imagine what you have gone through!”
“We were terrified,” Lizzie said “We did not even know if Aunt Eleanor would allow us entrance—much less to stay after she learned the truth. Georgie, I need you now, as much as I ever have. I am so afraid. Mama will never forgive me and Papa is so angry. I have never seen him like this! I do not think I am welcome here. Forgive me if I have wronged you, as that was never my intent. Please, help me and my son now.”
Georgie gasped, seizing her hand. “Lizzie, this is your home. No one will cast you out.” Their gazes locked before Georgie glanced at Ned. “And he is a Fitzgerald. They will come around. They need time. This has been a huge shock.”
Lizzie nodded, desperately hoping that Georgie was right and very uncertain of that. Exhausted, she sank down on the foot of the bed. “What do I do now?”
“Let the crisis pass,” Georgie said. She knelt before Ned. “Hello. I am Auntie Georgie.”
Ned had found one of the shoes Lizzie had discarded and had been inspecting it with great care, but he met Georgina’s gaze with a bright smile. “Ned,” he announced, banging the shoe on the floor as if it were a gavel. “Ned!”
Georgie began to smile. “Yes, you are Ned and I am Auntie Georgie.”
Ned’s smile disappeared and he stared very seriously at her.
“He is trying to understand,” Lizzie explained.
“He has such remarkable blue eyes,” Georgie breathed. “Auntie Georgie,” she declared.
