Call Home the Heart (29 page)

 

 

Malcolm Stephens stepped back as though he had been bitten, and
snapped, "Then you and I have nothing to say to one another. The
groom will be around in a minute, and he will help you back onto
your mount." He turned on his heel and strode up the steps again.

 

 

Muireann was nothing if not persistent. She ran after him and
grasped his elbow. "Please, sir, I know you had differences with my
husband, but I run Barnakilla now, and I've come here to discuss
business with you!"

 

 

"I vowed I would never speak to another Caldwell until my dying
day!" he muttered, trying to shake her off as he marched into the
drawing room where his wife, a small dark-haired woman of about
thirty-five was busy with two small boys.

 

 

"Well, then, I'm not a Caldwell. How do you do, Mrs. Stephens? I'm
Muireann Graham." She smiled broadly.

 

 

The children could see their father was upset, but the lady was so
pretty, they couldn't resist being friendly to her. They both ran up
to her shyly, and chorused, "Do you want to see our toy soldiers?"

 

 

Mrs. Stephens scolded the boys for their boldness.

 

 

Muireann simply smiled down at the two dark-haired boys kindly.

 

 

Malcolm Stephens gaped in surprise as she disappeared out of the
room, one boy having taken each of her hands to escort her up to the
nursery.

 

 

His wife's eyebrows lifted several inches, but she was a kind woman
at heart, and if the boys, usually shy and retiring, had taken to
the strange young woman so quickly, she trusted their instincts.

 

 

"Surely it won't do any harm to listen to what the girl has to say,
dear," she said mildly, picking up her knitting once again.

 

 

"I suppose not. God only knows how that bastard Augustine ever got a
wife like her."

 

 

"He probably deceived and tricked her the way he did the rest of
us," his wife sniffed, jabbing the needles in and out of the wool as
though she were stabbing them through Augustine's heart.

 

 

"But whatever we do, we mustn't mention it. She looks very young and
innocent. It would be too horrible!" Malcolm shook his head.

 

 

"Please, dear, don't get yourself upset."

 

 

"I can't help it. My own brother! I should have killed Augustine
with my bare hands!"

 

 

"I know it's no consolation, my love, but Jonathan never sustained
any lasting damage, though the memory must be terrible of what might
have happened if you hadn't saved him."

 

 

"Thank God Caldwell is dead. The man was a savage. I can't tell you
what a funny turn it gives me to see little Jon and Robin talking to
his widow. It's all too strange."

 

 

"Perhaps it's fate. Maybe she's come here to heal all the old
wounds. I've only seen her for a brief second, but she seems
genuine. After all, she took in Colonel Lowry's and Mr. Cole's
tenants to stop them from being evicted," Priscilla Stephens said in
Muireann's defense.

 

 

"Maybe she did it so she can take advantage of the poor devils,"
Malcolm snapped bitterly, pouring himself a large drink from a
decanter on the sideboard.

 

 

"Really dear, there's no call to be so boorish. Now, if you will go
up and tell Nanny to give the boys their tea upstairs tonight, you
can go fetch Mrs. Caldwell, er, Miss Graham down, and invite her to
have a drop with us," his wife instructed.

 

 

When Malcolm reached the top of the stairs and popped his head in
the nursery, Muireann and the two boys were hard at it recreating
the Battle of Waterloo.

 

 

"Who's winning?" he asked quietly, looking at the young beauty
stretched out on the carpet with his two small sons on either side
of her leaning their heads on her shoulders affectionately.

 

 

"The English and the Allies, of course, Daddy," piped Robin, the
youngest of the pair, who was only six.

 

 

"Excellent," he said, rubbing his hands together. "But now Mummy
says it's time for tea, and I have to take Miss Graham downstairs to
meet Mummy properly."

 

 

"Can't we come?" John asked with a pout.

 

 

"After you've had yours. I'm sure Miss Graham will be here for a
while, and she wouldn't dream of leaving without saying goodbye."

 

 

"Where do you live, Muireann?" Robin asked her sweetly.

 

 

"Just to the south of you."

 

 

"In that case you can come see us lots!" he exclaimed delightedly.
"We can do the Battle of Trafalgar with our wooden ships next time."

 

 

"I'll look forward to that. And you can visit me, and see all of our
animals on the farm."

 

 

"Can we, Daddy?" Jon asked excitedly.

 

 

"We'll see. Only good little boys who drink up all their tea and eat
all their nice food get to go visiting." Malcolm smiled down at his
sons, tousling their hair playfully.

 

 

Muireann rose from the floor, and tidied her black-watch tartan
woolen gown.

 

 

"May I wash my hands before tea? That's assuming your invitation was
genuine," she said in a low voice, gathering up her cloak from where
she had draped it over the back of the chair.

 

 

"My wife Priscilla and I would be most pleased if you could join us,
Miss Graham," Malcolm said stiffly.

 

 

He offered her his arm, and escorted her to a small boudoir, where a
servant brought some warm water a few moments later. Muireann tugged
her unruly hair back vigorously and reinserted the pins, and then
descended the final flight of stairs to rejoin the Stephenses in
their drawing room.

 

 

"So, tell us my dear, how long were you and Augustine Caldwell
married?" Mrs. Stephens asked curiously.

 

 

"A little over a fortnight," came the prompt reply.

 

 

Both the man and woman stared at Muireann, and Priscilla shook her
head.

 

 

"You poor thing."

 

 

"I don't expect any sympathy," Muireann said directly. "I deserve
none, and it would be hypocritical of anyone to offer it. No one
here in this part of the world liked Augustine, that's for certain.
So please, spare me the platitudes."

 

 

"You're very direct for one so young," Malcolm commented
uncomfortably.

 

 

Muireann made a deprecating moué. "It saves time in the long
run, and time is a commodity I have very little of at the moment. So
if you will forgive me, I shall get straight down to business."

 

 

"Business?"

 

 

"I've come here today because your land adjoins mine. Since I have
over three hundred tenants now, I need to plan for the future, to be
able to provide food and shelter for them. I know you've always been
interested in buying my most northwesterly pasture. But surely you
can see that now, with the number of mouths I have to feed, it would
be impossible for me to sell it. So I've come to offer to buy your
adjacent pasture instead. I also wish to negotiate for giving you
reasonable access to the lough shore, and the use of my docks for
the loading and unloading of your wares."

 

 

Malcolm stared at her, and snorted.

 

 

"From what I hear, you're penniless! How on earth could you be in a
position to buy my pasture, even were I willing to sell it?
Moreover, what makes you think I'd be so eager to want access to the
lough? I've done without it for long enough."

 

 

"Yes, but you see, my brother-in-law Philip is a wealthy merchant
and ship owner in Scotland, always interested in expanding his
business interests. I've been successfully trading with him since I
arrived here. And since I've also bought the southernmost pasture
and the whole forest on Colonel Lowry's estate, you won't be able to
use the lough at all once those lands are enclosed if you don't make
a deal with me now." She smiled sweetly, but her steely
determination was evident in her amethyst eyes.

 

 

Malcolm sat down on the sofa with a thump, too stunned to respond.

 

 

"You're as ruthless as Augustine ever was!" he eventually accused
angrily.

 

 

His wife tried to lay a restraining hand on his arm.

 

 

Muireann stiffened visibly, and she strove to defend herself. "Not
for myself, Mr. Stephens. Surely you must see that! I've done
everything I can to get Barnakilla back up on its feet. I refuse to
throw those people off their land, to allow them to be forcibly
removed from Ireland against their will, simply because of the greed
of a few shortsighted landlords. I can make Barnakilla strong again,
and give those people a decent home, even a degree of comfort, if
they're prepared to work hard.

 

 

"I've worked hard!" she declared, holding out her hands palm
upwards, so he could see her blisters and calluses. "I've done it
all for them! All those people were strangers to me, but they're my
family now.

 

 

"You would do anything for your family, your two boys. I saw it in
your eyes. Certainly you would be selling part of their land, their
inheritance, to me. But you would become very wealthy indeed if my
brother-in-law's ships could give you access to foreign markets, and
you were willing to give me a good price on the land. Rather than
money changing hands now, would you be willing to take the price of
the land out of a small percentage of your monthly profits over a
period of time, with another sum set aside for a contract for my
workers to load and unload the ships?"

 

 

Malcolm looked uneasy, but she added reasonably, "At the moment the
pasture we have been talking about is lying fallow, and the woods
above it have always been an inconvenience, dividing the property as
it does."

 

 

Malcolm responded, "You could take them both off my hands, so long
as you allowed me a corridor on your property to go through to the
lough."

 

 

She nodded. "And I will set aside special days for loading and
unloading, allocate you skilled workers, and will oblige you with
meat, timber, workers at harvest time, or for doing the shearing and
making yarn from your fleeces, whatever trades you are willing to
make with me, so long as we can put all past hostilities behind us,"
Muireann said enthusiastically. "I'm not too proud to beg for my
people if I have to."

 

 

Malcolm rose from his seat and paced up and down in front of the
fireplace. "You won't have to beg, Miss Graham. I'll discuss your
ideas with my lawyer and my estate manager in the morning. You and
the two gentlemen can settle a fair price, to be taken out of the
profits starting in say, six months time, since you are in
straitened circumstances at the moment. One day, perhaps, when you
are less busy, you might care to join us for dinner," he offered.

 

 

"I would love to, but I am indeed hard pressed to find a spare
moment of the day. In any case, I'm afraid I have nothing to wear,
no evening gowns, no jewels, not even a carriage. I sold everything
after I was widowed, and have literally started from scratch with
what I stand up in."

 

 

Priscilla Stephens exclaimed sadly over her misfortunes, and the
three of them discussed her various adventures since her arrival in
January as they sipped their tea.

 

 

In the end, Malcolm was glad he had decided to bury the past and
befriend this extraordinary Scottish woman.

 

 

"But of course you can visit us," Muireann suggested. "You could
come in a few weeks' time to see how the new tenants have settled,
and bring the boys. I'm sure they'd love to play with the lambs.
There are a few which need bottle-feeding. They could help me look
after them."

 

 

"Well, Malcolm is very busy, but I'd love to come," Priscilla said
warmly. "It sounds like you've done wonders with the place."

 

 

"Thank you." Muireann was relieved that she seemed to have won the
older woman's approval.

 

 

When the carriage clock on the mantelpiece struck six, Muireann
started up. "Heavens, is that the time? I must get back. I'm afraid
I've taken up far too much of your time already, and the estate
manager will be wondering where I am."

 

 

"Aye, we had heard you'd taken on Lochlainn Roche. An excellent head
on his shoulders, I'm pleased to say, though the rest of the family
was so wild."

 

 

"The Roches?" Muireann asked, puzzled.

 

 

Malcolm opened his mouth, but Priscilla stepped on his foot and
ostentatiously declared, "Here, let me help you with your cloak.
I'll walk up with you to say goodbye to the boys. And please, do
write and tell us a convenient day to visit you."

 

 

"It will have to be after Easter, but yes, I promise." Muireann
looked from one to the other in confusion. She had no idea why they
were both acting so strangely.

 

 

All the same, they seemed genuine enough, and so she went up to have
a final romp with Jon and Robin.

 

 

Then she shook hands with both Mr. and Mrs. Stephens in the foyer of
their stately home, and without waiting for Malcolm to come help
her, she swung up into the saddle and headed straight back to
Barnakilla.

 

 

After a hasty supper of rabbit stew, she strode into her office and
found Lochlainn waiting for her.