Kilpara (12 page)

Maureen winced. “I couldn’t face the
authorities. I felt so guilty. They would've asked all kinds of
questions. I couldn't bear it.”

“
Don’t fret, child. You’ll only
make yourself sick. You’ll leave Baltimore tomorrow, and you’ll
never have to set eyes on that horrible man again. Before you know
it, this whole affair will be forgotten.”

“
I’ll never forget.”

“
Of course, you will. Oh, but I
shall miss our walks, my dear. If only things were
different...”

I owed William Travors an apology for my
deception, so I offered him a drink in the library. When he was
comfortably settled, I told him Maureen’s story. He sipped quietly
as I spoke.

When I finished he said, “I suspected
something like that.” I didn’t have to ask how he knew, he was a
shrewd man. “You had a predicament, Ellis. You did what you thought
was best. I’m sure I would’ve done the same thing in your place.
You were just trying to help the girl.” He looked thoughtful for a
moment. “Shame, though, my wife seems to have taken a real liking
to her. Says her enthusiasm is refreshing. Don’t tell my wife about
this right now. I’ll do it myself later.”

He stroked his beard quietly. When he spoke
again he said, “There’s a small matter I’ve been meaning to talk to
you about. I apologize for bringing it up at such a distressful
time, but you’ll be leaving tomorrow—”

“
Please. Go on,” I said.

“
My grandson is old enough to learn
to ride. I've been thinking about getting him a pony for his eighth
birthday. I’m looking for one with a good temperament and I
understand Stonebridge has many remarkable animals.”

“
There are lots of ponies at
Stonebridge,” I said, glad to be of service to this man who was so
generous. “Dan and Mark should be able to find you an amiable
mount.”

“
Good.” Travers seemed pleased. “My
wife and I will stop by when we visit our son and his family in
Hagerstown next month.”

“
Please, plan to stay at
Stonebridge when you do. You'll be made very welcome. It’s small
compensation after everything you’ve done.”

We returned to the drawing room where Maureen
and Mrs. Travers sipped tea. Mrs. Travers was talking about her
children as usual. Maureen asked questions automatically. But her
eyes were dull, her mind withdrawn into itself.

“
Mother,” Mr. Travers said,
catching his wife’s eye. “You know, I’ve been saying it’s time
young Johnny had a pony of his own.”

“
Oh?” Mrs. Travers set her cup down
and gave her full attention to her husband.

“
Yes,” Mr. Travers continued.
“Ellis has invited us to stay at Stonebridge when we visit
Hagerstown. We could select a pony for Johnny then. Maybe even send
Tom out ahead of us. He knows horses and could narrow down our
choices before we arrive.”

“
That’s a fine idea,” Mrs. Travers
agreed.

Throughout this discourse, Maureen looked more
desolate than ever.

“
It’s settled then,” Mr. Travers
said.

“
My brother Dan will write you a
letter,” I said.

“
Very good.” Mr. Travers nodded to
his wife and they stood up to leave. At the front door, I handed
him his overcoat and Mrs. Travers’ cloak, which he immediately
draped over his wife’s shoulders.

“
Try not to worry so,” Mrs. Travers
said to Maureen as she prepared to ascend the carriage. She pulled
the girl into her arms and kissed her cheek. “Goodbye, my
dear.”

Tom seated his passengers inside the carriage
then hoisted himself up in front. From his perch he said, “I’m
sorry about what happened, Miss.”

Maureen attempted a smile. “Thank you for
rescuing me.”

“
Pleasure was all mine, Miss.” He
grinned, cracked the reins and the carriage moved away.

Seamus stood waiting for us on the platform
when the train pulled into Hagerstown. Maureen ran to him and flung
herself into his arms, almost bowling over the little man. She
stood inches above her father, but she didn’t seem to notice.
Seamus beamed at his daughter’s show of affection, delighted by her
happiness to see him.

“
Hang on there, girlie,” he said,
untangling himself from her embrace. “Let me look at ye.” He
searched her face for signs of ill effects.

“
I missed you, Pa.” Maureen’s eyes
begged forgiveness. “Sorry for taking off like I did and only
leaving a note. I know you and Mams must've worried about
me.”

“
Aye, that we did,” Seamus said,
his voice reproachful. “Your Mams will give ye a good talking to
for such silliness.”

“
I deserve it, Pa.” Maureen sighed.
“It was foolhardy. You forgive me, don’t you?” Her tone was doleful
and caused Seamus to stare at her. Perhaps he expected her to be
rebellious and her meekness surprised him. He turned to look at me
through narrowed, suspicious eyes. I deliberately kept my face
impassive.

When the train had gotten underway from
Baltimore, Maureen had extracted a promise from me not to report
the incident with Shanley to her parents or anyone else at
Stonebridge. I responded that she wasn’t at fault, but she brushed
my words aside. If nobody knew, she decided, it would be easier to
forget the whole incident ever happened. She feigned tiredness soon
afterwards and remained silent throughout the rest of our
journey.

Seamus turned back to Maureen. “Is there
anything ye need to tell me, girlie?”

Maureen tried to smile. “Everything’s fine,
Pa. I'm just happy to be going home.” We started toward the
carriage and she linked her arm in his. Her show of guilt for
running away was becoming overdone, just enough for Seamus to begin
to doubt her contriteness.

At each utterance, his eyes fastened on me,
his elf-like body stiff. Social boundaries contained him from
stepping up to me and demanding to know outright if I had
disrespected his daughter. He was ready to challenge me, if there
was even a hint that I had behaved less than a gentleman toward his
daughter or had caused her any disrespect.

It was easy to surmise what had happened after
he discovered she had followed me to Baltimore. His first impulse
would have been to come after her and fetch her back, but he would
have consulted Eileen first. In her usual sensible way, she would
have told him Maureen was in safe hands with me. Fetching their
daughter home would just delay her from running away again. Best to
give her a few days to get the silly notion of going to the city
out of her head, then reckon with her when she returned. Besides, I
could keep the girl busy helping me prepare for my departure. If
Seamus had insisted I was a bachelor and expressed doubts about my
conduct, Eileen would have laughed at his concern and defended me,
declaring faithfully that I was honorable. Finding it difficult to
convince his wife to bring Maureen home, Seamus had likely quelled
his fears, a decision he possibly regretted now, as he looked from
me to his subdued daughter.

It was a fine spring day, the air fresh and
clear, as Seamus lifted our belongings onto the carriage. Maureen
insisted on riding on the dickey and invited me up beside her. It
was her way of apologizing for being unresponsive to my attempts at
conversation since Baltimore.

Seamus relaxed considerably when I pulled
myself up beside them. If I were nursing a guilty conscience,
surely I would have chosen the interior instead. Maureen flashed me
one of her old smiles, and I felt lighthearted. So much so, that
once we were out in the open countryside, I began singing the Irish
songs Mother had taught me. Maureen looked surprised at first, and
then smiled. This was followed by a wider, happier, smile. She
relaxed, inhaled the clear air deeply into her lungs and let it out
slowly.

We trotted mile after mile toward Stonebridge,
bathed in the freshness of rejuvenated countryside. The scent of
budding apple blossoms filled the air and had a heady effect. Birds
of all types and colors flew into the open, chirping loudly,
voicing annoyance at the loud clopping hooves and crunching wheels
on the rough road.

I felt affected by it all, why I wasn’t sure.
It was like an elixir. I sang even louder causing Seamus to look at
me in bewilderment. He removed his cap in puzzlement and scratched
his head. He must have concluded my airiness was in response to the
news that Mother showed improvement since I had left, for he
suddenly gave in to the temptation to join in songs about his
native country. His voice merged with mine, sounding gritty and
off-key.

—
That heart keeps its faith like a
fast flowing river

Which gushes forever and sings on its
way

I have thoughts full of peace for his soul to
repose in.

Were I but his own wife to win and to
woo—

Oh! Sweet if the night of misfortune were
closing

To rise like the morning star, darling, on
you.

Maureen and I looked at each other. She
grinned. Here on the silent, open road Baltimore was receding into
the past and the threat of Shanley was losing its grip. This
thought encouraged me, and I put my arm around her shoulders
pulling her close. Seamus was quick to notice, his voice turning
upward, becoming shrill. Seeing him frown, we pulled apart and sat
primly throughout the rest of the journey.

The sun had begun its descent when we arrived
at Stonebridge. The blue sky turned orange, casting red-tinged rays
on the horizon. Trees that were thin-leaved only ten days earlier
had become full and deeper in color.

The horses, sensing they were about to be
relieved, quickened their pace.

Eileen ran toward us as soon as she saw the
carriage appear. She hopped around anxiously until Seamus brought
the horses to a halt.

“
You’re late,” she accused, as we
descended.

“
Aye, that we are,” Seamus said,
offering no explanation. The servants appeared and took our luggage
into the house.

Eileen held out her arms, coaxing her daughter
into an embrace. Maureen, tears filling her eyes, relented to the
safe harbor of her mother’s bosom. Reassured that she had come to
no physical harm, Eileen pulled away, and holding Maureen at arm’s
length, spoke sternly. “Why did ye do it, child? Why did ye run
away like that? You know ‘twas a terrible thing ye did, scared the
living daylights out of your poor father and meself. What were ye
thinking? To up and follow Master Ellis, without nary a goodbye.
‘Bout broke our hearts, so ye did.”

Emotion overcame Maureen and tears rolled down
her cheeks at the sight of hurt and worry in her mother’s face. I
handed her my kerchief.

“
I’m sorry, Mams. I wanted to see
someplace different besides Stonebridge. I just didn’t
think...”

“
Aye, nary ye did. If it was
getting away you wanted ye should've said so. We would’ve arranged
something for ye, instead of going off and doing this foolish
thing.”

Maureen wiped her eyes and stared at the
ground. “I know, Mams. I’m sorry. It wasn’t diversion I wanted; I
thought I wanted to leave Stonebridge. For good.”

Eileen stiffened and became still as a statue,
not a muscle moved. When she found her voice she said, “Did ye hear
that, Seamus? Did ye hear that?” Seamus nodded with a dumbfounded
look on his face. “Why Maureen, why would ye want to do that?”
Eileen put both hands on Maureen’s shoulders and for a moment I
thought she was going to shake the girl.

The confusion in Eileen’s eyes, sounded in her
voice. “Haven’t we given ye everything you ever needed, child? What
more could ye want?” She turned to me, anger flashing in her eyes.
“T’is all your doing, Master Ellis. Coming home in your fancy
clothes, with your fancy city manners, and turning your nose up at
everything simple and decent. All caught up in those fashionable
vices in the city so you are. Turned an innocent girl's
head...”

She looked back at Maureen. “That’s what
enticed ye, isn’t it, Maureen? It was Master Ellis, and his fancy
ways. Wasn’t it now?”

“
Eileen—darlin’,” Seamus said.
“Don’t go getting carried away so. Maureen hasn’t taken a
preference to the city.”

Eileen stopped at the sound of her husband’s
voice.

I looked at her without speaking. “Don’t
admonish me with those eyes of yours, Master Ellis,” she said. Her
tone was impertinent but the confusion in her face had begun to
clear.

“
Mams, it’s not El—er—Master Ellis’
fault,” Maureen said. “It was all my own doing. I went to the city
because it’s so gloomy here at Stonebridge. I was afraid you’d try
to stop me if I told you, that you’d make me stay and marry some
old farmer.”

Hearing the unhappiness in their daughter’s
voice, Seamus and Eileen looked at one another with saddened
expressions. “We know things haven’t been right at Stonebridge for
some time, but we’d never make you do anything ye didn’t want to,
girlie,” Seamus said, softly. “You’ll never have to marry any man
ye don’t want to.”

“
Of course not,” Eileen agreed. “I
couldn’t bear it if ye were miserable. That's not to say ye
shouldn't consider every proposal carefully, especially if the man
has a good disposition. But in the end you’ll do your own
choosing.” She pulled her daughter back into her arms.