Destiny's Path

by Anna Jacobs

  But as soon as they came back into the house she reverted to her demanding and unpleasant ways, speaking so rudely to Maia that he saw tears well in the latter’s eyes. He didn’t dare step in to protect her or it’d have made matters worse.

  It was a relief when Ronan and Xanthe came back in the late afternoon and there was someone else to share the burden of talking to Kathleen, who had no resources for entertaining herself.

  In the late evening after the ladies had gone to bed, Conn and Ronan went out to stroll round the gardens.

  ‘What are you going to do with her?’ Ronan asked.

  ‘I’m damned if I know.’

  ‘Do you want me to go back to Fremantle and make enquiries about when ships are sailing?’

  ‘I’d have to drug her to make her leave, I think.’

  ‘Have you asked your mother’s advice?’

  ‘No. She’s not well at the moment and I don’t want Kathleen snapping at her. It’s for me to sort this out.’ He hesitated, then said, ‘I think I’ll go up to Perth first and take advice about annulling the marriage.’

  Ronan gave him a quick look, opened his mouth then snapped it shut again to hold in his surprise.

  ‘I never bedded her,’ Conn said. ‘I thought it my duty to try, because that was the main purpose of the marriage for me, but she fought me like a tigress and I soon gave up trying. I’m glad of that now.’

  ‘It’ll take a while to get an annulment.’

  ‘Yes. But surely I can arrange it? And if she’d go back to Ireland while I did so, we’d all be a lot happier.’

  ‘Why don’t you go to Perth to see the Bishop soon? If you like, I’ll stay here and keep an eye on things.’

  Conn looked at him quickly. ‘I think I’d better talk to Kathleen first. She might not agree to do this amicably.’

  He took the opportunity to speak to her the following day while they were out riding, trying to explain in simple terms what he wanted to do.

  Kathleen frowned at him. ‘I don’t see the need.’

  ‘I don’t think we’re happy together, and I want a proper family one day – children, a loving wife.’

  ‘I don’t see why. Your brother can have children to inherit the land. Having children hurts women. Your father told me that before we were married.’

  Conn stared at her. Had his father tried to stop him having children – on top of everything else? He could well believe it. His father had liked to control every facet of his family’s life, and had not been pleased when Conn became a lawyer and went to live away from Shilmara.

  They rode on in silence, then Kathleen asked suddenly, ‘If we weren’t married, what would I do – afterwards?’

  ‘You’d make a life for yourself somewhere, a happier life I’m sure, because you’d not be a convict’s wife any longer, so people would talk to you again.’

  ‘But who would look after me?’

  ‘Your brother would help you, I’m sure.’

  ‘He hates me. And I hate him. He wanted to lock me away. I heard him saying that to my father once.’

  ‘He wouldn’t see you in difficulty and as long as you don’t buy a house near him, I’m sure he would help you. How about finding somewhere in Dublin?’

  ‘I’m not going to live in a town.’ She looked suddenly as if she wanted to cry as she said, ‘I want to go back and live at Shilmara. I was happy there after you left. Your father was kind to me.’

  Conn tried to stay patient. ‘You know you can’t do that. Shilmara belongs to my brother Kieran now. You have no choice but to make a new life for yourself.’

  She rode on for a few yards, then reined in her horse. ‘If I’m your wife, you have to look after me so I don’t want to end our marriage.’

  ‘You’ll have enough money to look after yourself.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Of course you can.’

  Her scowl grew more fierce. ‘I can’t!’

  ‘Why are you so sure of that?’

  She hesitated and he waited patiently, but he didn’t expect what she said.

  ‘Because I can’t read or write.’

  ‘Of course you can. I’ve seen notes you’ve written!’

  ‘Orla writes them for me. I tell her it hurts my eyes to write, that’s what my mother said I should do. Orla reads the letters to me as well.’

  ‘She’s never even hinted at that.’

  Kathleen’s expression became smug. ‘When she became my maid, your father said he’d have her family thrown out of their cottage if she told anyone. And I said it too.’

  ‘Did your other maid do that for you?’

  ‘Of course. She’d been with me since I was quite small. But she died. People always die. It’s not fair.’

  Conn didn’t know what to say. Kathleen had been clever about hiding her problems and must have been doing it all her life. Why couldn’t she read or write? Her governess must have tried hard to teach her. His heart sank as the implications of this sank in. She’d already said that she would find it difficult to manage on her own, so he couldn’t see her allowing him to have their marriage annulled. And she was right. She really did need looking after. But why did it have to be him?

  He’d dared to dream last night, dream of Maia, of marriage one day, children. Not big dreams but warm, cosy dreams. Now he could see only years of looking after Kathleen . . . hating her. But he couldn’t just turn her loose in the world.

  He wanted to weep. Men weren’t supposed to weep, but he felt he had reason to at the thought of how bleak his life had become since that dreadful day when he’d been arrested.

  Sighing, he urged his horse forward and led the way back to Galway House, handing his horse over to Sean and hurrying into the house, ignoring Kathleen.

  When he stopped at the kitchen door to look back, his wife had disappeared into the stables.

  Turning round, he saw Maia chatting to her sister as she prepared a tea tray for his mother. Her face was rosy and tranquil. She looked at him enquiringly, as if she cared how he was feeling.

  The contrast between the two women was too great to be borne. He nodded and hurried across the room, taking refuge in his library, sitting with his head in his hands, sick to the soul.

  10

  Two days later was Sunday and as they got ready for church, it occurred to Conn that he could perhaps ask the advice of the clergyman who came every month to hold services in the barn next to the local shop. The one thing he’d decided after a restless night was to find a way to get this travesty of a marriage annulled. But he would look after Kathleen, see that she had somewhere to live.

  He found her dressed in a huge crinoline skirt, the effect spoiled by the material being somewhat crumpled.

  She greeted him with, ‘That maid of yours wouldn’t let Orla heat the flatiron to press my skirt. She said she was too busy getting ready for church and wanted the fire to burn down. And she couldn’t clear the table to iron on, because places for lunch were set out there already. You’re letting her take advantage of you, Conn. She’s just being lazy. She should be looking after your guests, especially me, your wife.’

  He took a deep breath. ‘She’s not lazy, Kathleen. She is too busy. Anyway, no one here wears crinolines. Don’t you have something simpler you could wear?’

  ‘For church? No, I don’t. Your father always told me to dress up for church and so did my parents.’ She smoothed down the material, seeming unaware of how incongruous her plain face and stocky body looked above such a wide skirt.

  ‘It’ll take up too much room on the benches. This isn’t a proper church, as I told you. We hold our services in the barn.’ He saw her face become flat and expressionless, a look he’d learned years ago meant she wasn’t paying attention because she didn’t want to hear what she was saying. Frustrated, he stared up at the sky, which was again full of heavy grey clouds. ‘I suppose it’s too late for you to change your clothes now. You’d better take an umbrella, though.’

  ‘I don’t have one.
Besides, we’ll be going in the carriage, so why should I need one? I can run from the carriage to the church door.’

  ‘We use the cart and leave it in a field, so we have to walk across to the barn from there.’

  ‘You go to church in a cart?’

  ‘I don’t have a carriage, just a gig and it’d not carry us all. There will be seven of us today, don’t forget.’

  She counted up on her fingers. ‘Your mother, you, me, Ronan: that makes four.’

  ‘Plus Xanthe, Maia and Sean.’

  ‘Surely you don’t let servants ride to church with you?’

  ‘Of course I do. It’s too far to walk.’ He gave up trying to reason with her. ‘Come on. We might as well get going.’

  She hung back. ‘My skirt will get dirty in a cart.’

  ‘Sean cleans the cart out and puts cushions and blankets in the back for my mother.’ He turned as Mrs Largan moved slowly across to join them. ‘My dear, are you sure you feel well enough to come?’

  She gave him one of her faint smiles. ‘I think I should be there for Kathleen’s first church service, don’t you?’ She turned to her daughter-in-law. ‘That’s pretty material, Kathleen. Is it the latest fashion to have the widest part of the crinoline near the hem? It’s more a pyramid shape than a bell now.’

  ‘Yes. Papa Largan liked me to dress well and he always bought me the latest fashions.’

  Conn avoided his mother’s eyes. He’d guess it had amused his father to have Kathleen look ridiculous and then force the local gentry to accept her anyway. His father had had a cruel streak.

  Kathleen complained about the bumpiness of the road and the discomfort of riding in a cart for most of the journey, so no other conversation could flourish.

  He saw his mother wince a few times as she was jolted, but unlike Kathleen she made no complaint. She never did.

  They were among the last to arrive. He would have preferred to sit at one side, as he usually did, not wanting to upset the local worthies, but for once his mother drew him towards the front of the barn. So he sat with her and his wife on one of the benches local folk had made especially for these service, trying to ignore the dirty looks he was given by those nearby.

  Livia Southerham arrived just before the service started, accompanied by Leo, who went to sit at the rear. Francis Southerham hadn’t attended for some time. Conn’s mother moved along the bench to make room, Kathleen did the same with an aggrieved sigh, and Livia joined them. She made a point of leaning across to shake Conn’s hand. He could have told her it was a useless gesture, because no one would ever accept a convict socially even though they’d do business with him. It wasn’t just here that he was ostracised; it was everywhere.

  At least no one snubbed his mother. When she introduced her daughter-in-law, they were stiff but didn’t refuse to speak to Kathleen, to his relief. The women were studying her clothes avidly and would no doubt ask her about the latest fashions afterwards.

  As everyone settled down, his mother pulled out her prayer book and offered to share it with Kathleen, who simply shook her head.

  Conn noticed that his wife spent most of the service looking round, paying little attention to the hymns or the brief sermon.

  After the service, he hurried over to the clergyman. ‘When you’ve finished speaking to people, I’d welcome your advice on a serious matter.’

  The man inclined his head and Conn stepped back, knowing he had to let the other people take precedence. And anyway, he wanted to discuss the question of annulment privately.

  His mother remained seated, waiting for him, and one or two of the ladies went to speak to her. Though they tried to include Kathleen in the conversations, she said very little.

  ‘You wished to see me, Mr Largan?’

  He turned with relief to the clergyman. ‘Yes. Would you mind if we moved somewhere quieter? This is rather personal.’

  The clergyman led the way to the little room just off the barn which had tools hanging on the wall and a sturdy workbench. He began to remove his surplice. ‘How can I help you?’

  ‘I wondered if you knew anything about having a marriage annulled.’

  ‘I thought you were a Roman Catholic.’

  ‘I’m not much of anything these days. And we all worship the same god, after all.’

  ‘Whose marriage are you speaking of?’

  ‘Mine. It’s – um, never been consummated.’

  ‘But your wife has just arrived here and is presumably living in your house!’

  ‘She turned up uninvited. I could hardly refuse her shelter, could I? We’re certainly not sharing a bed and never have done. I’m hoping to find her somewhere to stay in Perth.’

  ‘I – don’t know what to say. You really would be better handling this from England – or from Ireland perhaps, in your case.’

  ‘I only had a conditional pardon after I arrived here, so I’d have to get special permission to go back and anyway, I don’t really want to. I was hoping I could manage the annulment from here. I need to end this travesty of a marriage as quickly as possible.’

  The clergyman sighed. ‘I suggest you speak to your own Bishop, Mr Largan. If you go to Perth on horseback, it’s only a day’s travel and now that you people have your own cathedral, I’m sure you can find someone there to guide you.’ He pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at it. ‘Dear me. Is it that late already? You’ll have to excuse me. I need to get on the road again. I have an evening service to deliver some distance from here.’

  Conn realised there was no help to be gained from this man, thanked him and went out into the barn again. He waited at the rear until the women had finished speaking to his mother, Kathleen and Livia. One of the men was talking to Ronan, smiling and waving his hands about as he described something. Presumably they’d found out Ronan wasn’t a convict.

  If Conn had joined the group, they’d have taken their leave as quickly as possible, so he didn’t. He hated to see how isolated his mother was here and tried to allow her time to chat to their neighbours whenever possible.

  On the way home he bit his tongue as Kathleen poured scorn on the service and so-called church, but in the end she went on for so long he lost patience and snapped, ‘Then why don’t you go back to Ireland where they do have proper churches? You certainly weren’t invited to come here.’

  ‘I’m your wife, even if you are a convict! I had no one else to turn to.’

  He’d heard those words too many times already. ‘You’re not my wife, not in any way that counts, and you never have been. Nor are you staying here for longer than necessary. You need to understand that clearly. I’ll find you somewhere to live in Perth till we can get you back to Ireland.’

  He heard some of his companions draw their breaths in sharply, but he didn’t care who heard him.

  ‘Your manners haven’t improved,’ Kathleen said.

  ‘Neither have yours.’

  Behind him in the cart his mother cleared her throat and he held back further sharp words. But it was difficult. Why could Kathleen not accept that her days at Shilmara had ended?

  When they got back he went out to the stables and began saddling his horse, but before he’d finished Kathleen joined him.

  ‘You shouldn’t ride on Sundays,’ she said.

  ‘Go away and leave me alone.’

  She didn’t move and after a moment she said, as if he hadn’t spoken so sharply, ‘That’s a fine horse. I’d like to take him out one day.’

  ‘If you do, it’ll be the last time I lend you any of my horses. This one is mine. He doesn’t like being ridden by anyone else.’

  She stretched out her hand and as if to give him the lie, Demon nuzzled her. It had always puzzled him why she got on so well with horses and so badly with people.

  ‘I meant what I said. Demon is mine.’

  She let out a huff of exasperation. ‘Which horse can I take, then?’

  ‘None of them today. I want to go riding alone.’ He saw Sean hovering nearby and calle
d, ‘Don’t saddle any of the other horses today. I need a peaceful hour or two.’

  The old man winked and nodded.

  Conn swung into the saddle and left without even looking at his wife.

  The next morning he asked Ronan to come outside, where they could speak privately. ‘Will you keep an eye on the farm for me if I go up to Perth?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I presume the clergyman was no use yesterday.’

  ‘No. He didn’t want anything to do with me – I’m not only a Catholic but an ex-convict. These monthly services are supposed to be for all denominations, but he clearly doesn’t see it that way. The last fellow we had was much kinder. This one told me to go to my own church, so I’ll visit St Mary’s Cathedral in Perth and see if the Bishop can help me end my marriage.’

  ‘I hope he can. Kathleen’s . . . difficult.’

  ‘Very difficult. And Ronan . . . don’t let her drive my mother mad, and don’t let her pick on Maia and Xanthe, either. You’re in charge of the farm and my mother’s in charge of the house. Kathleen has no authority to do anything.’

  ‘I’ll do my best to keep her under control.’ He smiled. ‘I don’t think that housekeeper of yours will be pushed into doing anything she doesn’t think right.’

  Conn smiled too. ‘No. Xanthe is a very spirited woman. And a hard worker. She’s put me in my place a time or two. But we feel extremely lucky to have her and her twin. And although Maia is gentler, she won’t stand for any of Kathleen’s nonsense either.’

  As Conn was walking back to the house, his wife intercepted him. ‘I heard you say you were going up to Perth. We need some more maids here, you know. I should come with you and select them. I can ride as well as you.’

  ‘You’re not coming. I’m going to see the Bishop about annulling our marriage.’

  ‘I don’t want to stop being your wife. I can’t manage on my own.’

  ‘I keep telling you, you’ve never been my wife in any way that matters.’ He turned away, not wanting to start the arguments all over again.