“You know that is not true. I let you go where ever you wish. It is just at night that I don’t like you wandering around. No true parent would want their daughter to be out alone at night.”
“But you are not my parent. I was a married woman before I met you. Married women have certain privileges and now you are taking them all away,” I accuse.
“None the less, I wish you to obey me,” he says, planting me with a warning stare.
I don’t say anything. I merely wander about the shelves holding the wine bottles and listen to the murmur of Loraine and Jason, as he shows her his father’s wine collection, reading the names and dates on the bottles to her. What is so marvelous about wine, I wonder, with a frown? All the farmers ever get is home made potato whisky to drink, while the landlord has shelves upon shelves of expensive wines that he can’t possibly drink unless he throws a ball every night and serves it to his guests.
I lean against a wall as I listen to them drone on. I can hear Loraine giggling, then give a little murmur, and I glance up to see Jason giving her a quick kiss. She is flirting blatantly with him in front of me to prove a point, I think, and it angers me. I slam my fist against the wall behind me, thinking I should just leave them on their own and head upstairs. Only, I feel a slight movement of the blocks, so I pause. I push a little harder to test it and a portion of the wall starts to move. “What are you up to, Rose?” Jason calls from a distance. I push the wall back in place and come out of the shadows.
“Nothing. Just wandering around in this dark dank place. Are we about through?” I wrinkle my nose in a pretence of disgust.
“Yes, come along,” Jason says, and I can see he is holding Loraine’s hand as he leads her up the steps behind him. I follow at a distance.
“I believe that ride wore me out,” Loraine states. “I think I will go up and take a nap.” As I watch her climb the stairs, she looks back at Jason and gives him a meaningful look. A moment later, Jason is heading up the stairs as well, and I believe I know what his intent is, so I turn back to the kitchen, light the lantern again, and head back down to the wine cellar.
When I reach the wall I had been leaning against, I give it a push, and the wall slowly swivels exposing an opening that yawns before me. Not even considering anything but my curiosity, I forge forward into the darkness that lights up as I approach it with my lantern. I discover a long passage way and I am determined to learn where it leads. The passage way continues on, ascending upwards, until I come against another wall, which I push against as well. That wall also swivels, opening up beyond the garden, into a round rock garden shed.
My dress is covered with dust and cobwebs, but I ignore it as I look around the shed, filled with garden tools and old pots for planting the house plants in. Then I open the thick wooden door and step out into the sunlight. I blow the lantern out, hurrying back to the kitchen, putting the lantern where I had found it, and then I going upstairs to my room to change my clothes. A smile is stretched across my face. Let Jason try and lock me away, or have his guard dog, flirtation teacher watch me, I chant to myself in glee. I have discovered a way to escape, where no one will know how I leave or return. I am suddenly elated, because now I feel my life is really my own again.
I go down stairs and start practicing the piano. Tomorrow night, I think, I will go join the Fenians again. My heart is racing because I can’t wait to see the admired leader of the group once more. My head had been full of thoughts of him, ever since I left the last meeting. I wonder what his real name is, but what could it matter? He will always be Jamie to me, even if I discovered who he really is.
I wonder if he is married, or has a lover? Why I am thinking this, I don’t even know. I only know I admire him and feel a great connection to him in some way. He is a true Irishman, unlike Jason, and he will find a way for the Irish to take their land back from the English, and Irish men like Jason.
Jason leaves before dinner, so Loraine and I eat dinner alone. She chatters on about her life in England and it all sounds superficial to me. Nothing but balls and the opera, Shakspear plays, and rides in the park. Flirting with the most eligible bachelors in London, is what she seems to enjoy the most, I think. What a useless life, I frown to myself. Nothing to do but enjoy yourself, while others suffer, when you have money, I reason.
Eventually, we both go to bed. I can barely sleep, for planning my next escapade, and I cannot wait until the next evening when I will be able to escape to join the Fenians again. I lay awake half the night, just thinking about it. I feel my existence is worth something now, because I am not just this woman who is supposed to find some poor unsuspecting man to take her on as his wife, but I will play a part in the history of Ireland. Instead of my name going down in the history books as one of the martyrs, I will become one of the liberators, I predict, feeling great pride.
Loraine sits in the drawing room, chattering to me about her endless experiences, as though I am really interested. I think she is more interested in what she is saying than I am, and I tell her I want to talk to the cook about breakfast. She nods approval, and I happily head for the kitchen. Luckily, the cook is not in the kitchen since it is late. I do not go down to the servants quarters to look for her. Instead I go down to the cellar, where I have hidden Ferrells clothes. Since I am no longer wearing a corset, I manage to remove my dress, and wriggle into the trousers and shirt. I did not bring a light with me, because it is a straight walk from the steps of the cellar to the wall that opens up, and I don’t need to see how to get dressed. The passageway leads to one place and I follow it with excitement building up inside of me. Loraine will never discover what happened to me. Perhaps she will search all night and even send some servants to look for me. Luckily, the house is huge and the property is vast. Eventually I will make up some sort of excuse about getting lost and being shut in the attic or something, I decide.
I reach the barn just as the group is starting to leave and when Jamie sees me approaching, he comes to my side. He sort of frown at me, though, making my heart fall. “I thought you found some sense and decided to remain at home where you belong,” he says, giving me a disgruntled look. I just smile back at him. I cannot see where Randy is and Jamie takes my hand. “You might as well stay with me,” he tells me. “I don’t want anything happening to you. Your brother didn’t say you were coming.”
“He tried to make me stay home,” I tell him, “but he knows he can’t make me do anything,” I smile, proudly.
“Apparently not,” Jamie laughs. “Just stick close to me. I don’t know what kind of problems we may face. There is usually only two guards, so I am hoping we don’t have much resistance.”
Jamie takes the lead in front of the group and I follow close to his side as we quietly wind our way towards the armory, which is on the outskirts of town. It is a three mile walk from where we start but we all travel in silence, keeping alert. If, by chance, we run into anyone, we will hide in the shadows before they notice us. As we approach the armory, Jamie holds up his hand and tells everyone to stay where they are while he goes to check. He also tells me to stay put, as well, and then he stealthily creeps up to the armory as we all watch from the shadows. We hear someone shout, and then I see Jamie heading towards the group.
“Run for it,” he calls, “someone must have alerted the guard. A whole troop is there!” He grabs my hand and pulls me along with him, as the rest of the group scatters. “Best to all go your own way,” he calls, as we hear the sound of feet running towards us from the armory.
Jamie is practically dragging me behind him, and when I can’t keep up, he picks me up and slings me over his shoulder and keeps going. Eventually the sound of guards, is farther in the distance and Jamie puts me down. Then he is leading me to what I discover is my old farmhouse. “We had better stay here the night,” he says. “Just incase they are patroling the fields. They know it is the farmers that are uprising. Besides, I want to talk to you,” he murmurs.
“Why?” I ask.
; He is dragging me inside and locking the door. Then he takes me to the bedroom and locks that door, as well. When we get to the room, he pulls me down on the bed where Ferrell and I used to make love. “You aren’t fooling anyone,” he mumbles. “You think I can’t tell a woman when I see one?” I feel him take my cap and throw it aside, then he is unbraiding my hair. “I thought if I tried to talk you into staying home, you would see the sense in it. While I admire your love of Ireland, I would be devastated to have the blood of a woman on my hands as I lead her,” he whispers. “Why that so called brother of yours allows you to come, I don’t know.”
“Because he can’t stop me.” I tell him. “No more than you can stop me. This is my old farmhouse. This bed is where my husband and I made love. He gave his life to the cause. There is no purpose in my living if I don’t try to take up where he left off,” I plead.
“But if they catch us…” he pauses and I feel him stroke my cheek. “I don’t even want to think what might happen. We were lucky tonight but I don’t know about next time,” he says softly against my ear. “There is no guarantee that any of us will get out of this alive. Even your own husband gave his life. Why are you willing to die as well?”
“What else is there to live for, if the Irish are always held hostage by the English?” I ask. “Besides, you are not afraid to give your life for the cause. Why should you question me about it?”
He pauses for a long moment, as though he is thinking over what I just said. “Maybe you are right. Perhaps we should live for the moment then,” he whispers, and I feel his lips brush across my cheek.
The feel of his lips send shivers through my body. I had not expected this. I miss Ferrell’s touch, and while this is not Ferrell, he is someone I admire. If he were to die tomorrow, I would never get to know him better, I think. In a world as uncertain as this one, what is there to cling to, I wonder? I decide to cling to Jamie instead, and I turn my lips towards his. I think of how Jason said that kissing didn’t always mean anything. I don’t even know who this man is, I think, but I know I want to kiss him if only to gain his strength. At the same time, I feel like I am betraying Ferrell. I had vowed never to fall in love again, and Ferrell is barely in his grave, yet I am kissing another man.
When I turn my lips to his, I can feel him smiling against my lips, and then he is pressing his lips against mine, and pulling my lower lip into his mouth, sucking against it, and running his tongue against my teeth. I am shocked! Ferrell had never kissed me that way before. Our kisses were almost timid, and gentle, born out of love and understanding. Jamie’s mouth acted as though it wanted to consume me, as he continues the kiss and against my will, it seems, I find myself drowning it that kiss as it progresses. I never knew a kiss could be like this, and the very feel of it makes my whole body tremor at his sensual touch. I am starting to feel out of breath and in over my head.
“For a widow, you act like you have never been kissed before,” Jamie whispers, when he lifts his mouth from mine.
“I don’t think I have,” I admit. “Not like you kiss, anyway.”
“You almost appear to be a virgin,” he murmurs, and then his mouth smothers mine again, and I feel his tongue lick gently over my lips, willing me to open them, as he softly pushes against them. Something seems to take over me, and I comply, feeling the wonder of the feel of his tongue, play against my own tongue. I hear myself give a strange whimper at the feel of it. I am not sure whether to pull away, or allow the kiss to progress.
Jamie lifts his mouth from mine, and pushes his fingers through my hair. “Has anyone told you how lovely your hair feels between their fingers?” he asks, as he continues to comb my hair with his fingers.
“No,” I say in a small voice.
“It’s a pity your husband never noticed,” he murmurs.
“Are you married?” I suddenly ask, starting to feel ashamed of myself if he were.
“If I were married, I would be kissing my wife like this, not you,” he whispers. “I can’t afford to get married. My work is too dangerous. But if I did ever get married, I would hope my wife was as dedicated and brave as you appear to be.”
He lets his breath out, and buries his face against my neck, and then his lips are kissing my neck, sucking against my skin, lapping his tongue against it. I feel his fingers, unfastening the buttons of my shirt and he allows his mouth to follow the course of his fingers, kissing his way until my shirt is laid open by him, and his mouth moves over to find my soft, yielding skin, playing against it with his teeth and tongue, and then drinking me in, until I am whimpering at the feel of it.
The marvel of his touch begins to consume every fiber of my being, and spread out into the ethers of the universe, as his fingers, and mouth explore me, in a way Ferrell had never tried, or probably ever thought of trying, I think in awe. I realize how inexperienced Ferrell had been as a lover, as Jamie awakens me to a whole new world of touching and feeling and sharing my body with a man. His touch is all he offers me, though, and that touch alone, heightens my desire beyond my imagination, and I fall to the depths of desire, and rise to the awakening of fulfillment, my whole body shattering in the effect, and then floating away into a world I have never experienced before.
Jamie has awakened my very soul, in a way I had never fathomed a man could do. He hugs me to him and pulls the covers over our nude bodies. His body feels strong and hard, and mysterious. It makes me feel excited and curious, but I will not touch him. I had not ever touched Ferrell. It didn’t seem proper, and he had never asked me to touch him.
Now I am realizing there is a lot more to making love than just letting a man take you and kiss you, and touch your breasts. I am astounded that I went three years in a marriage and never felt the glories that Jamie has shown me in one night. But it doesn’t dampen my love for Ferrell, it only makes me sad that we could not have shared this kind of experience before he died.
In the morning, the light is streaming through the window, and Jamie is still wearing his mask. It is the only thing he is wearing. He pulls the covers back from my body, and gazes upon it. Ferrell and I never looked at each other. The church was against it, and everything we ever did, we did in the dark. Having him looking at me like that, makes me tremble and feel shy. He smiles at my embarrassment.
He sees me looking at him, and that part of him, reaching out to me, catches my attention, and I want to touch him, the way he had touched me the night before, but I am too shy to try it, so I only look at him, and he chuckles.
“For a widow, you act almost innocent,” he observes. Then his face straightens. “You need to get dressed and get back to your home. I am sure people are missing you,” he says softly.
“When is the next meeting?” I ask.
“I don’t want you to come. We almost got caught last night. It would not have gone well for you if they had caught us.”
“I want to come,” I whisper. “It is the only thing I look forward to in my life.”
“Isn’t there anything else you look forward to?” he asks.
“No,” I say. “I am staying in the house of a man I hate. He pretends to be Irish, but he is really just like every other English man. I have to do something for my country.”
“I will worry too much for you,” he tells me, and his hand brushes over my breast, as he speaks.
“Yet is it all right for me to worry about you?” I ask.
“You don’t even know me,” he points out.
“And you don’t know me either,” I respond.
“Then perhaps we should become better acquainted,” he whispers, and he leans his head to my breasts, and then he is laying himself between my legs, and I feel the bulk of him pressing for space. Space that I want to give him, as he slowly begins to show me what I happened to miss during my marriage of three years.
When we both cry out in rapture, I realize I never knew what it was like to actually be loved by a man who understood a woman’s body. Now I could never be satisfied with anyone else, I think. I al
most wish Jamie had never shown me what I had been missing as a wife. But then I never plan to get married again, I remind myself.
I cling to him, and do not want to let go, but he slowly removes himself from me. “Next time,” is all he says, and he starts to get dressed. Then he leaves me there in the farmhouse, laying in the bed that I thought of as sacred because I had spent three years with my husband in that bed. Now the bed has taken on a whole new meaning to me. Jason is going to kill me, if he discovers I left again after he forbid me to do so. But it would be worth it, to have spent that one single night with Jamie. I don’t regret letting him make love to me. I stop feeling guilty. Ferrell is dead. I can never lay in his arms again, I tell myself to justify this new feeling that Jamie has awakened in me.
At last I get dressed and I make my way to the manor, hoping that no one notices me coming, dressed in Ferrell’s clothes. I hurry to the garden shed and go through the passage and then in through the wine cellar. There I fumble with my clothes, and put them on, hiding Ferrell’s clothes again. I make my way up the stairs and peek into the kitchen. The cook is busy, making breakfast and doesn’t notice me. I hurry past her, run upstairs, where I discard my dress, and put my nightgown on, then climb under the covers, and close my eyes.
“I am telling you, I don’t know where she is,” I hear voices outside my door. “She gave me the slip and I couldn’t find her. The doors were locked like you told me to lock them, and still she disappears.”
The door of my room, bursts open and I sit up abruptly in bed, with wide eyes. Jason is frowning at me and Loraine looks surprised.
“Where were you?” Loraine asks as she walks over to my bed.
“Right here,” I say. “Where did you think I was?”
“You were not right here when I checked last night,” she tells me.
“When did you check?” I ask.
“Well after everyone went to bed,” she tells me.
“I didn’t go to bed right away,” I tell her. “I was restless, and since all the doors were locked, and I couldn’t go out to visit my farm friends, I decided to entertain myself by walking through the house, only my candle went out, and I couldn’t find my way back, so I found a room with a bed in it and slept there. By dawn, I could see how to get back to my room, so here I am,” I tell her.
Wild Irish Rose Page 6