by Anna Jacobs
The kitchen door was locked, as he’d ordered. Ronan kicked out at the door, so terrified that someone was hurting his wife that he found the strength to crash the door open. He was just in time to see the intruder lying in a pile of broken crockery and a puddle of something dark and wet. Then his wife stabbed a knife into the intruder’s shoulder and the man roared with pain.
As Ronan ran across the room, his wife picked up the heavy bread board and smashed it down on the man’s head with a loud thwack.
Hearing someone approach, she turned swiftly round, panting as she held the board up to protect herself. Then she let her arms drop as she saw her husband.
Mr Flewett had seized one of the kitchen cloths and picked up the knife that had fallen on the floor. He hacked at the cloth and used the long pieces of linen to tie the intruder’s hands behind his back, ignoring the blood pumping out of the stab wound on the man’s shoulder.
Sounds outside took Ronan away from his wife to stare out of the door, ready to defend them if necessary. But after a moment he turned with a grin and beckoned to her. Paddy and three other men had the two intruders trussed up and were marching them at knife point across the yard.
‘What shall we do with them, sir?’
‘Keep tight hold of them. I want to speak to this fellow.’ He went back inside and jerked the bound man to an upright position. ‘What were you doing in my house?’
The man pressed his lips together.
Grim-faced now, Ronan hit him on the wound, causing him to scream in pain. ‘I’ll kill you rather than let you go without finding out what exactly you’re doing here,’ he threatened, meaning every word. ‘When my wife’s in danger I’d do anything to protect her, and that includes killing you.’ He raised his fist again as if to deliver another blow and the man squealed for mercy.
This was a side of her husband Xanthe hadn’t expected to see. She watched in amazement as he questioned the man sharply, ignoring the way he sobbed with pain as he answered the questions.
‘Your wounds will be tended to after you’ve answered my questions. Now, tell me who sent you.’
He hesitated, then as Ronan bunched his fist again, said hastily, ‘Mr Johnson.’
‘Why did you come inside the house?’
‘He wanted her taken away and killed.’ The man gestured to Xanthe. ‘Said he’d make you pay in the way that would hurt you most, because you’d never know what had happened to her.’
Ronan closed his eyes for a moment, thanking all the fates that Xanthe hadn’t been captured. Then he opened his eyes and something about the way he looked must have frightened his captive, who flinched. ‘I’ll be taking you to the local magistrate and if you don’t answer his questions promptly, I’ll make the way I just hit you seem like a love tap.’
‘Shall I bind a cloth round him to stop the bleeding before we set off?’ Xanthe asked.
‘No. Let him bleed.’
‘I’ll get my cloak, then.’
‘You’re not going anywhere.’
‘I’m coming with you. It was me he tried to kidnap. You weren’t here, so I’ll need to answer questions too.’
‘I want you safe.’
‘I’ll be safe now.’
But as they were all going out of the back door a shot rang out and Xanthe dropped to the ground.
Ronan covered her body with his and the men outside went running into the woods again.
Maia woke in the night with a scream. Conn jerked upright in the bed. ‘What’s wrong? Is it the baby?’
She began sobbing.
‘What is it?’
‘It’s Xanthe. She’s been hurt. I can tell.’ Maia began rubbing her shoulder. ‘Here. Ah, it hurts, it hurts.’
He took her in his arms and tried to comfort her, but she wouldn’t be comforted. All her thoughts were for her twin and she was hardly aware of him.
Two hours later the local doctor stepped back from the bed at Ardgullan. ‘She ought to be all right, Mr Maguire. She was lucky. The bullet went straight through the fleshy part of her arm. I’ve bound the wound and you’re to leave it bound up for several days. I’ll come back to check on her every day.’
As Mary showed out the doctor, Xanthe groaned and Ronan went to her side. ‘You’re going to be all right, my darling.’
‘Not if you leave this bandage on so tightly.’
‘The doctor says we’re not to touch it.’
‘He’s old and so are his ways. I want Mary back here with a bowl of soapy water and a clean bandage. I don’t want the wound wrapping so tightly. It’s made it feel worse. I’ve read about new ways of treating gunshot wounds, developed in the Crimea, and I’m not having it done this way. It needs to be kept clean, not left to fester.’
‘Is there anything you’ve not read about?’
Even through her pain she managed a near smile. ‘What else did I have to do with myself in Australia?’
He couldn’t persuade her to leave the bandage alone, at least for tonight, and Mary, standing on the other side of the bed, took her mistress’s side.
‘He’s good at setting broken bones, that one, or for getting bullets out, but for nothing else. Did you see how dirty his hands were?’
Xanthe looked at him pleadingly. ‘Please don’t leave it dirty.’
‘You’re supposed to be resting quietly, not complaining about the doctor’s methods,’ Ronan told her.
‘When have I ever kept quiet?’
There was a commotion below and a voice boomed out. ‘Where’s Maguire?’
‘I sent Paddy for the magistrate,’ Ronan said. ‘That’s him now. He has a loud voice because he’s half deaf. I’ll have to go down and speak to him. Stay there. You are not to get out of that bed.’
She didn’t protest but turned to Mary. ‘I want it cleaning.’
The housekeeper nodded and slipped downstairs. The housemaid appeared a minute later looking frightened.
‘Please, ma’am, I have to sit with you.’
Xanthe nodded and closed her eyes till she heard footsteps and looked up to see Mary and the kitchen maid come in with a ewer of hot water and the materials to wash and cleanse the wound.
Though it hurt badly, Xanthe urged them to continue their work.
By the time Ronan came back two hours later, she was sleeping, if rather fitfully, and her shoulder sported a new bandage made from a torn-up clean sheet.
Mary was sitting by the bed.
‘How is she?’
‘Clean.’
‘I’ll sit with her now.’
‘We’ll both sit with her this night, what’s left of it anyway. I’m better at bandaging than you are.’
After a pause, she said with a sniff, ‘I suppose Mr Johnson will find a way to wriggle out of this. He always does.’
‘Not this time. Our magistrate says the evidence is overwhelming and there’s no way he’ll escape prison, if not a hangman’s rope. He’ll be under arrest by now.’
She crossed herself. ‘Thank the Lord for that.’
But he was most thankful of all that his wife had survived. What would he have done without her? He reached out to brush a strand of hair off her forehead, just for the sheer pleasure of touching her.
He was a very lucky man. Fate had given him far more than he’d deserved. He’d make sure he spent the rest of his life more usefully, making Xanthe happy and, he hoped, their children, and caring for his estate and the people on it.
In Australia, Maia sighed with relief. ‘The pain’s eased a little now.’
‘Do you always feel her pain?’
‘Sometimes. If it’s bad. Not small things. I can sense when she’s unhappy, too.’ She gave him a wan smile. ‘She’s happy at the moment. I wonder what happened to hurt her.’
‘An accident?’
‘We’ll not know exactly what for three months or more. But she’s alive, that’s what matters.’ With a sigh Maia lay back on the pillows and fell asleep, even though it was broad daylight.
Conn wat
ched her for a while then he too fell asleep.
The following day a messenger arrived at Galway House from Perth. ‘Mr Largan? The priest sent me to speak to you.’
‘Come in. You must be hungry and thirsty, travelling in this heat.’
‘I’ll give you the message first. He said it was urgent.’ The stranger held out an envelope which had C. Largan scrawled across it.
Conn took it from him, strangely reluctant to open it, then muttered in annoyance at himself and moved aside to read his message in privacy. ‘Dear God!’
Maia came across to join him. ‘What is it? Not bad news?’
‘I’ll tell you in a minute. Let me take this fellow into the kitchen and tell Nancy to give him refreshments.’
When he came back Conn took her into the library.
‘Tell me,’ she urged.
He handed her the two pieces of paper the envelope had contained.
The first one was from the priest and said simply,
Have stopped annulment procedures in view of this news. I leave any final rites to you. Clearly she cannot be buried in consecrated ground.
The second letter was longer and was from the doctor.
I regret to inform you that Mrs Kathleen Largan took her own life yesterday by cutting her throat. I don’t know how she was able to obtain the knife but she did a thorough job of it and was dead when we found her.
I trust you’ll inform Mr Largan of this. I consider it a merciful release because she was very unhappy even in her madness, crying and wailing for hours on end. The one she cried out for when she wept was ‘Papa Largan’ and from what I could make out, it was he who had used her as a wife, shocking as that seems, not Mr Conn Largan. He must have been diseased.
I’ll arrange for a burial in a place we have for people like her.
Yours, etc
Maia sat staring at the letters, then looked at Conn with tear-filled eyes. ‘How sad!’ He tried to speak, but he was so sickened and disgusted by what his father had done that he couldn’t say a word.
Maia put her arm round him. ‘Your father must have been a—’
‘Don’t speak of him. Don’t ever say his name again. I hope he rots in hell.’ He swallowed hard. ‘I always wondered what had driven my mother to flee after she’d endured so many years with a difficult husband, and now—’ his voice broke, but he forced himself to finish, ‘I’m fairly sure from things she said that always puzzled me . . . She knew, Maia. She knew about Kathleen. And never said a word.’
They sat together for a long time, then Maia moved her arm away. ‘Shall you change the burial arrangements, Conn?’
‘No. I’ll leave the poor creature in peace now. She was more sinned against than sinning.’
He went to stand by the window. ‘I didn’t want her to die.’
‘I know, my darling.’
After a few moments he came back and laid a hand on her belly. ‘Has it occurred to you that we can now marry and this little one will not bear the stigma of being a bastard?’
She smiled. ‘Only just in time.’
‘We’ll go to the church service on Sunday and ask to be married. And to hell with anyone who looks scornfully at you!’
She blushed rosily. ‘Oh dear, I’m going to look such a mess.’
‘To me you always look beautiful.’
‘And you always say the nicest things. Do they train lawyers to do that?’
‘No. But love gives wings to my words.’ He folded her in his arms and they stood for a long time, not speaking, not even moving, just quietly happy to be together.
But he found it difficult to sleep that night. He was glad he could marry Maia, of course he was, but it upset him that this was at the cost of Kathleen’s death and what his father had done would haunt him for years, he was sure. His father must have known he was diseased and hadn’t cared that he’d passed on that vileness to Kathleen.
There had been so many deaths in the past year. He hoped they would have a time of peace from now on. They’d surely earned it.
He put his arms round Maia and even though she was asleep, she snuggled up to him and the mere fact of her presence comforted him, always would.
He must not dwell on the past. He must look forward to a future filled with love and children and happiness. How could a man not be happy who had a Maia to love?
Epilogue
Eighteen months later: late 1868
In Australia the party started in the late morning on a day agreed by letters passed between the sisters. Cassandra and Reece drove up to Galway House, accompanied by Leo, Livia, Orla and the girl who was now helping Cassandra round the house and with the two children.
As everyone got out of the cart, Sofia stood guard over her new little sister. ‘Be careful with Demi,’ she kept telling people. ‘She’s very little.’
Maia smiled at Cassandra. ‘I didn’t think you’d use the full name for such a little child.’
‘I wanted to but Sofia couldn’t say Demetria easily and it somehow got shortened.’
‘Dad wouldn’t have minded. He’d love the way we’ve all chosen Greek names for our children.’
Maia turned to smile at her little son. Karsten was tottering along the veranda on his chubby little legs, clutching a toy dog she’d made which he took everywhere with him.
It was a sunny late spring day, perfect for sitting outside in the middle of the day, and they gathered on the back veranda, which had been enlarged specially for such family events.
Not until they were all seated did Maia stand up. ‘I have something to announce.’
They looked up.
‘Not another baby!’ teased Livia.
‘No. Not this time. It’s Conn, his conviction has been quashed and he’s a free man now.’
There was silence then everyone cheered and clapped.
Conn came to slip his arm round his wife’s waist. ‘It won’t make much difference to the way Maia and I live. We’re both quiet homebodies. But it will make a big difference to our children one day.’ He looked at Maia. ‘There’s only one thing we regret – that all four sisters couldn’t be together today.’
‘Perhaps when the Suez Canal is opened – they think it’ll be next year – it’ll get easier to travel to Australia,’ Reece said. ‘Ronan and Xanthe have already said they intend to come back here for a visit.’
Cassandra shook her head, looking sad. ‘Pandora won’t be able to. She gets terribly seasick, and anyway I doubt you’ll get Zachary to leave his beloved shop for several months. So maybe one day we all ought to go back there for a reunion.’
‘Perhaps we will. Who knows what the future will hold?’ Maia said softly, giving her little son a luminous smile and a quick kiss.
Conn made a beckoning gesture towards the kitchen window and Nancy came out of the house with a tray. As they all took a wineglass, he whispered to her, ‘Get some for yourself and Sean, so you can both join in the toast.’ He waited till she’d done this, then raised his glass. ‘To the Blake sisters. Thank goodness they came into my life!’
‘And mine,’ Reece echoed as people clinked glasses and drank a heartfelt toast. He saw that his wife’s eyes were overbright and knew she was thinking of her two sisters on the other side of the world. Some things you could do nothing about.
In Ireland, on a sunny late autumn day Ronan called out, ‘They’re here!’
Xanthe came running to join him at the door as the carriage drew up. Zachary got out of it as soon as it stopped and Pandora nearly fell out after him in her eagerness to see her sister. The two ran across the lawn and hugged each other, not weeping – the Blake sisters were not the sort to weep for no reason – but smiling and hugging, blinking hard, then holding each other at arm’s length to smile again.
‘It’s been a long time,’ Xanthe said. ‘We’ve visited you twice and this is the first time you’ve come to see us.’
‘You know Zachary doesn’t like to leave the shop.’
The two men were shaking ha
nds. ‘Thank goodness we’re here!’ Zachary said. ‘Pandora’s been twitching with impatience ever since we left Enniskillen. And she’s not a good traveller.’
‘How did she cope with the sea crossing?’
‘She felt nauseous but that was all.’
Hallie, standing at the edge of all this joy with her mother, was soon drawn into the family circle, while the nursemaid looking after Master Hector Carr and his sister Hebe stood watching wide-eyed.
Then they were swept into the house, where Pandora’s new baby was cooed over and Hebe was kissed and told how big she was growing, everyone agreeing that she was going to be tall like her mother and aunt.
Though Xanthe’s son had been brought down to meet his cousins, he stayed obstinately asleep the whole time.
‘He does nothing but sleep, that one,’ said Xanthe. ‘I should have found out the Greek word for sleepy and called him that, instead of Andreas. Maia writes that her Karsten is just the same. She wishes one of us had had twins, but I find one baby at a time quite enough trouble.’
After a while the nursemaids took the little ones up to the nursery and the rest of the party retired to the drawing room to bring one another up to date and share the latest letters from Cassandra and Maia.
‘They’ll be just finishing their party now, going to bed,’ Xanthe said wistfully. ‘I wish . . .’ She didn’t finish her sentence and pinned a determined smile to her face to hide her emotions. One day she’d go to see her twin. She’d make sure of that.
She had settled down here at Ardgullan House, but she and Ronan still had plans to travel. After all, holidays were being organised to all sorts of places for groups of people by Mr Cook. Travelling for pleasure was getting easier all the time.
Ronan had already brought up some wine from the cellar and he poured glasses for them all, then called for their attention. ‘I propose a toast. To the Blake sisters, who have brought us all together! May we one day manage a reunion of the whole family.’
Also by Anna Jacobs
