The Widow and the Rogue (6 page)

“You appeared overheated,” he said. “I thought perhaps you would enjoy using this little bit of frippery.”

She unfolded it. The fan had mother of pearl stays and a hand painted silk screen. On the shiny fabric was the charming depiction of a young couple walking hand in hand by a tranquil lake.

“Why it’s Dovehill!” she exclaimed.

She recognized the view at once. It was the same one she saw daily from her bedchamber window. It was of the lake and the green hills near Dovehill Hall.

Pleased, she waved the fan back and forth, admiring the countryside painted in colors of delicate blue, green, and pale pink. Small woodland creatures frolicked in the foreground and clusters of tiny flowers grew at the couple’s feet. The edge of the fan was gilded in painted silver. A tassel of matching color dangled from the pivot, holding the stays together.

“But ’tis far too costly a gift for me to accept, Master Powers,” she said, a furrow of doubt creasing her brow.

She recognized the value of the elegant ornamentation. It was a high quality fan. Families usually bought such items for wedding celebrations. They were treasured by the owners as heirloom keepsakes of the event. Often they were kept in cedar-lined chests for preservation.

“Nonsense,” he said, dismissing the idea out of hand. “I am not some callow lad attached to his mama’s apron strings. This was made to be held in the hands of a beautiful lady. And as you are overheated and quite lovely, it suits you. Thus, you may not refuse my little trifle.”

“But I—” she said, wanting to protest. This was not a “little trifle,” as he had so elegantly described it. It must have cost a pretty penny.

However, she could not continue. He shook his head and wagged his index finger at her as if she were a young child. She was being naughty. His mind would not be changed. The gift was hers.

She gave a small laugh of concession. It was a beautiful gift. And how could she refuse when he was so pleased to be giving it to her? It would be petty to do so.

“I see now, sir, why you have made yourself quite a reputation as a magistrate. For no barrister would dare argue against you. Indeed you are one of the most decisive gentlemen I have ever had the pleasure to meet.”

“Thank you, ma’am, for the compliment. And for the honor of giving you this,” he said, lightly tapping the fan.

He was inordinately pleased to see the flush of pink that colored her cheeks. If only he could be the one to help the lovely lady’s smile travel from her lips to her sad eyes, he would have accomplished something truly noteworthy.

Looking down at her small black figure troubled him. She was young and had a sparkling character. Like a fine bottle of champagne kept in a dank cellar, she appeared to be wrapping herself in black sadness. And he sensed something else. She was afraid.

He frowned. He could do nothing, he sensed, to dispel that fear. Only time would prove that he was as good as his word. He would slowly have to gain her trust.

*    *    *

“What say you, Madame, of traveling to Dublin with me?” he asked. “I must go there to attend to the other half of the partnership. They require my help in clearing up a few tiresome legal matters at the chambers there.”

“I—I do not know,” she said, hesitating.

She bit down on her lower lip. Should she leave the safety of Dovehill Hall to live in a bachelor’s residence in Dublin town?

She glanced at him. Could he be trusted? Or was she once more to be taken advantage of, to be used like a bargaining chip? To be sold off to the highest bidder to be found in Dublin’s salons?

He put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I see you are troubled. Perhaps I can ease your worries? There is a sea captain’s widow visiting here in the village, do you know of Lady Agnes Fitzpatrick?

“Yes, I have heard of her,” she said. “She is considered to be a veritable paragon of respectability.”

She did not add that rumors had been told aplenty concerning the small Irish lady. The widow was known to have taken over the delicate match between her wealthy niece, the Spinster of Brightwood and the eligible bachelor, the Earl of Drennan, with the determination of a dragon protecting its treasure.

“She is the aunt of Lady O’Brien, the lady you and I helped rescue. She is also the widow of Captain Fitzpatrick whose ship and crew mysteriously disappeared somewhere in the darkest part of the uncharted world.”

“What do you think of her as a possible companion for yourself? Shall I ask her to accompany us to Dublin and attend upon you?” he asked.

She gave it some thought. Such a formidable lady would help keep her virtue safe, even with a handsome bachelor in residence. And therefore the proprieties would be correctly observed. The intimidating lady would make certain neither he, nor any other gentleman she met, could force his will upon her.

She conjured up in her mind the tiny Irish woman from memory. Lady Fitzpatrick was small in stature, she recalled, but imposing in spirit. The lady was a formidable force to be reckoned with, a veritable whirlwind of determination.

Aye, she decided, the stern sea captain’s widow was the perfect solution. She would protect her against any unscrupulous gentleman. Including, she cast a doubtful glance at her guardian, this one.

“Yes, I do believe Lady Fitzpatrick will suit,” she said, quickly coming to a decision. “You may send for her straight away.” And so it was that the formidable Irish lady was hired as her companion.

They rode through Dublin’s main thoroughfare, Sackville Street, as they headed towards Beau’s townhouse. Kathleen looked out of the carriage window at the street before her, admiring the classic whitewashed brick buildings with their wide portico terraces and tall Romanesque facades. The city had a classically elegant air about it. She found the busy town to be quite pleasing.

The abolition of the Irish Parliament due to the 1801 Act of Union with England had prevented some of the older buildings from being demolished. The town was a bit tarnished and outdated. However, it was abuzz with noisy liveliness as they drove through the wide main street.

Men in fox-red British uniforms rode by their carriage on cavalry horses. She noticed poor beggars in rags hold out their hands at passing dandies. Elegant ladies wearing feathered turbans walked in front of trailing maids carrying large packages and wicker baskets on the walkways.

The local Dublin Gazette proudly announced that the town was currently the second largest in the United Kingdom in terms of population and wealth, having over 178,000 souls in its vicinity. It was known as
Baile Atha Cliath
in Gaelic, the town of the hurdle ford. And its fortified seaport had garnered a noteworthy reputation in trade.

From her seat she cast a furtive glance at her new companion. The lady seated across from her was not a normal-sized person. Indeed, Lady Agnes Fitzpatrick was frequently mistaken to be one of the wee people by the more superstitious, but her tiny frame exuded a strong will that was most intimidating. It was a fact that caused the elderly Irish lady to give a derisive laugh, when she dared to remark upon it. “Aye, look at Boney, that French dictator. He’s short of stature and yet managed t’ crown himself emperor of most of the civilized world. Indeed, ’tis said the smaller the person, the more powerful in character they become. For sure now, my dear Captain used to tell me I was the most interesting lady of his acquaintance. He never wished to see me metamorphosed into a giantess with long limbs and dove like airs. Nay, he liked me just as I am, a tiny lioness.”

Lady Fitzpatrick had quickly agreed to accompany her to Dublin for the fortnight. It would provide an excellent opportunity to help her niece, Lady Beatrice, shop for a trousseau as her nuptials to the earl were soon to be held at Drennan Castle.

“And, as ye helped free my Bea’ from that despicable villain, I feel it my bound Christian duty to keep your ladyship safely out of temptation’s way,” the tiny lady said, casting a meaningful look at the guinea-haired Adonis towering over her.

“Aye, even if the devilishly handsome temptation has the inordinate good taste to recommend me to you as your companion.”

The tiny woman raised her parasol threateningly. She was a diminutive David ready to fight off a towering Goliath all in the name of moral propriety.

“I shall protect you, Lady Langtry, from wicked men. Indeed, with such a charming face as yours, I shall need to pray to the good Lord above for extra help and guidance. Aye, maybe Saint Laurence will aid my endeavor in chaperoning you, as well,” she said, referring to the patron saint who’d once been an archbishop in Dublin. “Or perhaps do me one better.”

“In what way do you mean, Lady Fitzpatrick?”

“Why you may be recently widowed and grieving, but surely you know better than t’ want to remain in this singular state. It may do very well for someone like me who is old and already lived a full life. But for someone like yourself . . . well, ’tis not suitable. Aye, it would be an aberration against God’s divine will for you to live the rest of your life alone. Nay, you shall remarry, my dear,” she said with an air of complete certainty. “You may not believe it, but one day you shall.”

Kathleen drew back away from her. The idea of marriage was daunting. She had had enough of being controlled. It would take her some time before she could again trust a man.

Noticing her abashed look of horror, the older lady patted her hand.

She said in a comforting manner, “Aye, you are too recently widowed to want to retie the knot . . . one can see that. But given time the idea may hold some appeal. I have traveled from port to port all across this earth looking for news of my missing husband. I am glad to report there are many good gentlemen who travel this planet with us.”

Lady Fitzpatrick tilted her head meaningfully towards the window. On the other side, Beau rode with the outriders. He looked quite dashing seated astride a beautiful brown gelding. He rode his mount with ease, a man born to the saddle.

Kathleen had to concede that her guardian was proving himself to be unerringly a gentleman of his word. A fact she had thought would never occur. He didn’t disturb her privacy, nor did he try to control or censor her actions. She’d been experiencing unmonitored freedom.

But then she barely knew him. He may in a few weeks’ time prove to be full of cunning guile and take advantage of his position as her guardian. He might marry her off like her uncle had and take control of Dovehill Hall.

This dark thought caused her alarm. Secretly, she wanted him to prove he was an exceptional gentleman. She desired to have one by her side. It would be good to have someone she could depend upon and trust.

Aye, it was lovely having Lady Fitzpatrick as her companion. The older woman was proving herself to be a good friend. But there were lonely moments when she yearned for something more than companionship.

She had witnessed as a child a special loving bond between her parents. And that memory was deeply embedded in her thoughts. She yearned for such caring intimacy. And she knew that only a devoted couple could share that kind of closeness.

*    *    *

The townhouse was a pleasant surprise. It was situated next to St. Stephen’s Green, a place that had once been a medieval enclosure and named after the holy saint who had been stoned to death for preaching Christianity.

The more than twenty acres of trees, lake, and expanses of green lawn within the busy perimeters of Dublin was a welcome respite from busy town life. Around the picturesque green, townhouses and impressive Georgian brick mansions had been built.

A classical Palladian façade with two white columns greeted Kathleen at the front door. The decorative glass over it was shaped in a fanned peacock design. It was a feature unique to Irish townhouses.

Beau opened the door. “
Bienvenue
. . . my younger sister, Laeticia, would normally be here to greet you. But she is at present in London being entertained by friends,” he said as they entered the foyer.

At the mention of the young woman, Lady Fitzpatrick gave a sniff of disapproval. She had met the sister. She had not been impressed.

Beau’s sister, Laeticia, was a high-stepper with unbecoming forward manners. The older widow confided to Kathleen later, “That one thinks so highly of herself that if you were to introduce her to the Pope, she’d think he should be kissing her hand! Not the other way around.”

“Your sister, she does not act as hostess here?” Lady Fitzpatrick asked Beau in a judgmental tone, running a finger over a sideboard table.

She inspected it for dust. There was none.

“Knowing you may have important business clients to call upon you today, including Lady Langtry, your sister stays away, leaving the head of your table empty?”

“I fear my sister is a headstrong woman, Lady Fitzpatrick. I may ask her to do one thing, and she will go and do quite another. To be truthful, I can barely keep her in hand. She always manages to get her way.”

“Humph,” murmured Lady Agnes with disdain. “Not very sisterly in loyal devotion then is she? ’Tis no wonder that she is not yet married. No gentleman worth his salt would want to be always reining her in.”

She directed her comments in an appraising manner. “Although you are a fine gentleman, Master Powers, one can see that you have a kind heart. Aye, I suppose a weakness such as yours cannot be helped. Orphaned, are the two of ye? No older living relations to help and guide you? No surviving aunt or uncle?”

“No, ma’am. My parents passed away from cholera when I was a student studying at Trinity College. I have no other relative. My sister is my entire family.”

“And so you have the sole care and guardianship of her?”

He nodded in affirmation and gave Kathleen a wink. The solicitor reacted to the interrogation in a sporting manner. He appeared to be highly amused by the tiny Irish woman.

Kathleen in turn could not suppress a smile. Lady Agnes was being rude.

And she’d felt a pang of empathy for him when he announced both his parents had died. Like her, Beau and his sister had been orphaned at a tender age. But despite that painful tragedy, he had managed to overcome the loss and gone on to become a successful solicitor. It was an admirable achievement.