Whiskey Island (61 page)

But she
did
want this child. Even without a guarantee that it was Terence’s. Even knowing it could be Simeon’s. She realized it in that moment as she never had before.

“As he lay dying, my Terry told me to take care of his baby. He knew…he guessed what Simeon had done to me, and still he called the child his. It
will
be his. It will never be Simeon’s. Never!”

“He chose you for this, you know,” Nani said. “Your hair, it’s red. Mrs. Simeon, her hair is a little red, too. Enough alike.”

“He chose me….” The thought made Lena ill, but she knew Nani was probably right. She had caught Simeon’s eye from the first. He had admired her spirit, her vitality, her intelligence. He had told her so again and again. But what she’d thought was a corrupted sort of flattery was simply a list of traits he wanted in the mother of his child.

He had selected her as he selected a mare for his prize stallion. He had told her as much, but she had failed to understand.

She sat back. Rowan dropped her hands but continued to lean forward.

“What shall I do?” she asked at last. “He won’t accept no with grace. He’ll find a way to take my baby.”

“You have to leave town,” Rowan said. “Before the child is born. We have to hide you and the baby until he has no choice but to sail without it. He’s to spend his wife’s final confinement in England, so he can be with her when the child is born. He’s to take her to London, where the care is better.”

“And where he can more easily hide the fact that there was no pregnancy and no birth,” Lena said wearily.

“If he has to sail without your baby, then he’ll be forced to find an orphaned infant in London,” Rowan said.

“He’s due to sail about the time your child is due,” Nani said. “The servants are whispering about it. They think it’s odd he’s waiting so long. What if she delivers early? they say.”

“Of course, Julia will conveniently deliver her child a bit late, so what does it matter?” Rowan asked grimly.

Lena’s mind was racing. “It’s the last bit of proof, isn’t it? But where can I go? I have no money, only what…what I’ve saved to bring family from Ireland.”

“I have money in the bank,” Rowan said. “But I can’t get to it until Monday, and that will be too late.”

“I have a little.” Nani stood. “I will bring it to you.”

Lena shook her head. “I can’t take your money.”

“You must. I want to help. Please…”

Lena could see how unhappy Nani was, and how much she wanted to set things right. She hadn’t been able to help when it was most needed, but she could make up for that now.

“Yes, then. Thank you.”

Nani stood, gathering her things. “I will wait outside.”

“You don’t have to.” Rowan stood, too.

“I will.” She left by the front door.

Lena felt the same sharp pain in her belly that had awakened her last night. She sat very still, willing it to go away before she spoke. “There won’t be enough money, not even with what Nani can add.”

He stood in front of her, turning his hat in his hand. “I’ll go to Father McSweeney. He’ll find a way to lend me some. Then I’ll take you on the train to Chicago. I have friends from Mayo who settled there. They’ll let you stay, and help you find work once the baby is born.”

“And what of you? What will you do?”

“When you’re safe, when the child is older, when your grief is spent…”

“What then?”

“Then I will come, too.”

She couldn’t look at him. She didn’t know how to feel about anything, and particularly that. “Simeon will find us.”

“There’ll be no point to an all-out search once he’s adopted another child. He won’t be able to switch it, will he? When he has to choose an infant in England, he won’t know whether you’ve given birth to a boy or girl, a child with dark hair or light. He’ll be furious, but he’s a businessman, and a good one. He’ll know better than to throw good money after bad. It’s not the child itself he cares about but his image.”

She wasn’t as certain. She believed Simeon was capable of undying revenge. They would never be safe. Chicago would be the first stop of “I’ll be gathering my things. I’ll be ready by the time you come back. I’ll pack something for you, as well.”

“Good lass. But knowing what we know now, I can’t leave you alone here. I’m going to find Seamus Sullivan. He’ll stay with you until I return.”

She wanted a last hour alone in her poor little house, alone with her memories of Terence and the life they’d had together. But she knew that Rowan was worried about her safety, and for good reason.

She remembered the man she’d seen watching her at the bank. “Tell Seamus to give me a little time alone, then he has only to knock twice and I’ll let him in.”

“I’ll be gone now. Don’t open the door to anyone but Seamus.”

“Tell Father McSweeney I’m sorry I have to leave this way.” Tears filled her eyes. She was sorry she wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to the priest, who had been kinder to her than she had ever deserved.

“He’ll understand.” Rowan headed for the door, stopping at the threshold to jam his hat on his head. “Take care now, Lena. I’ll be back for you.”

39

P
acking was no trial, since she owned little enough. She tucked the layette into a corner of the bag she had brought from Ireland, added what clothes she had, a few toiletries. She had one portrait of Terence, a small one in a plain metal frame. Padding it carefully with a petticoat, she tucked it into a safe place, added her hairbrush, a button hook. And then she was done.

She climbed the rickety stairs to Rowan’s room with effort. Her back still ached, and the pain in her belly came and went in undulating waves. She didn’t think the baby was on its way. It was early for that, and the pain was not what she’d been told to expect. Nausea filled her with each stab, and she wondered if she had eaten something spoiled. Since she took most of her meals at the rectory, she hoped she hadn’t accidentally made Father McSweeney sick, as well.

In Rowan’s room she took out fresh clothes and found a small leather bag to pack them in. She added his razor, strap and shaving brush. The room was tiny and airless, and she wondered, as she always did when she came to clean, how he managed so cheerfully. She had thought he stayed out of friendship for Terence, and perhaps he had at first. But now she knew that
she
had been part of the reason, too.

He had never by word or deed given any indication until today that he felt more for her than friendship.

Seamus still hadn’t arrived by the time she descended the stairs. She was surprised, but not worried. If Simeon hadn’t come for her before this, he would wait until the baby was born. She was safe enough now, and, with luck, she and the baby would be safe enough, at least for a while, in Chicago with Rowan’s friends. She could start a new life there, find work and make a home. She and the child would find a room together in some tenement, a church to pray in, a park where they could breathe fresh air. She would teach her son or daughter to love simple things. They would survive.

She thought of Terence’s parents as, at last, she felt under the bed for the metal box where she kept her savings. She had already retrieved the money from the jar in her kitchen. She had never wanted it, but now it seemed only right that she should use it to confound Simeon. He had given her that money to humiliate her. Now her absence would enrage him.

She retrieved the box and stuffed the money into her bag. “Cocks crow, hens deliver the goods, James Simeon,” she said, using one of Katie’s favorite expressions. Now she could not bring the Tierneys or her mother to Cleveland, perhaps never even to America. But she
could
keep their only grandchild from harm. She knew in her heart that they would expect her to think of the child before anyone else.

Seamus still hadn’t come by the time she propped her bag and Rowan’s by the front door. She was exhausted, as if she had climbed the hill to St. Brigid’s or pulled her heavy cart to the docks. She sat to rest, and the pain stabbed at her again, sending waves of nausea pouring over her.

She hung her head between her knees, and just as the worst of the pain began to recede, she felt a flood between her legs. As she watched in horror, her skirt and petticoat were soaked with water.

“Mother of God.”

She had been wrong, so very wrong. She knew this was what happened before a baby made its appearance. There was no stopping it now. No matter that she was about to run away to Chicago, that her bag was packed and Rowan on his way to Father McSweeney to borrow money. The baby was coming. Early, perhaps, or exactly on time—if she had conceived before any of them had guessed.

And if she had, the child had to be James Simeon’s.

The child
had
to be early, and it had to be Terence’s. Some women always delivered weeks before they were due. If the date wasn’t too early, the babies were small but healthy. Katie had told her so, and also told her that this sometimes happened to smaller women, almost as if their bodies pushed the baby out before it grew too large to make the journey.

Katie knew about these things. When Seamus came, he could go back home and bring Katie here. Then he would go for Granny. He would stay close to watch over them until Rowan returned. Lena would have the baby, and Rowan would keep her safe until they could leave for Chicago. Simeon wouldn’t know the baby had arrived until it was too late to find her.

She considered going to the Sullivans’ house, but as another pain stabbed her, she knew it was no use. She felt too weak to make the trip, and since the pains were coming faster now, she didn’t know if she would have enough time. The baby might come in minutes or hours. She simply didn’t know.

She did know that she had to get out of her wet clothes. She had packed her extra chemise, but she managed to pull it from the bag beside the door and make her way into the bedroom. She undressed between pains, alternating prayers that Seamus wouldn’t come while she was still changing and prayers that he would come soon afterward. Granny lived at the other end of Whiskey Island, and her old legs didn’t move quickly. By the time she gathered up her supplies and walked to Lena’s house, the baby might be making its appearance.

But Seamus would stop along the way for Katie. Katie could be here to help.

After she’d undressed and put on the chemise, Lena lay down to ease the ache in her back. She thought of the night she and Terence had made love for the first time since his accident, the night this child had most probably been conceived. She drifted off to sleep on that memory, waking when the next pain stabbed at her, drifting off again afterward.

The next time she awoke, she wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the pain that gripped her nearly tore her apart. She waited it out by digging her fingers into the mattress and clenching her teeth.

Where was Seamus? Rowan and Nani had left a long time ago. Seamus was to have come soon after. But where was he? He was a good man and a good friend, and he wouldn’t leave her alone if he thought she was in danger. Perhaps he hadn’t been home. Perhaps Katie had set off to find him. But wouldn’t Katie have come on her own if she thought Lena needed her?

Again she considered trying to make the trip to the Sullivans’, but as another pain began, she discarded the idea. She wasn’t certain now that she could make it as far as the door to let Seamus in. The pain consumed her; exhaustion claimed her when it diminished. She drifted in and out of awareness, trying not to scream.

Rowan waited until Nani boarded the streetcar that would take her to the Simeon mansion before he set off to see Father McSweeney. He felt a great unease knowing that Lena was on Whiskey Island, where Simeon could easily find her, but he took comfort in the fact that Seamus had snuffed out his pipe and gone to comb his hair the moment Rowan had told him Lena needed him. She would be safe with Seamus, a good-natured soul who was nevertheless capable of snapping a man’s neck if he threatened anyone Seamus loved.

Everyone loved Lena. She was a bright spirit, a welcome light in a dark world. She had endured too much and triumphed repeatedly, and Rowan would be damned if he would see her ground under the heel of a depraved millionaire who, from the first, had set out to destroy her.

Rowan loved her, too. Sometimes he thought he’d fallen in love with her on her wedding day. For years he hadn’t acknowledged his feelings, even to himself, but he had never been able to deny himself the gift of her presence. He had loved Terence, too, and would miss his best friend until the end of his days. But now that Terence was gone, he could, for the first time, openly admit that he also loved Terence’s wife. And no matter what else happened, he would see her through this terrible moment.

For Terence’s sake, and for his own.

The rectory was dark, but there was a light in Father McSweeney’s study. Rowan imagined the priest was preparing his sermon for Sunday morning. He went through the courtyard and tapped on the window. When Father McSweeney looked up, Rowan pointed to the door.

Inside the rectory, he faced the priest in the hallway. He didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “James Simeon intends to raise Lena’s baby as his own. He’s made elaborate plans to cover his intentions, but that’s what it comes down to.”

“But his own wife is pregnant.”

“She’s not.” In as few words as possible, Rowan outlined Simeon’s scheme. “There’s only one solution. Lena has to leave town. I have money enough, but I won’t be able to lay hands on it until the bank opens on Monday. I don’t want to wait that long. I want to take her to Chicago on the very next train.”

Father McSweeney’s expression was inscrutable. “There’s a great void inside Simeon where his soul should reside.”

“Can you help, Father?”

“I’ve little enough money on hand. We can rob the poor box, but what’s there won’t get the two of you as far as Toledo. There’s a man I can go to for it, though. A parishioner who’s loaned me money in emergencies of this sort.”

“Will you go to him? For Lena?”

“Need you ask?” His carefully schooled expression was replaced by a flash of fury. “She’s precious to me. I’ve done what I could for her, but it’s never been enough. If I can help her get to safety and foil James Simeon at the same time, I’ll be happy enough to worry my superiors.”