by Lucy Gillen
CHAPTER TEN
THERE was always an air of sadness about autumn, Rowan thought, although it was her favourite time of the year. She had managed to rescue some rather forlorn-looking chrysanthemums during her gardening activities and they were now repaying her attention by breaking into clusters of yellow and bronze flowers that gave the now neat but bereft garden a 'touch of life. She carefully tied them to supporting stakes against the ..increasing strength of the winds, but gave only half her mind to the job in hand. Sean had told her that morning that he would be going into Gallybom the following day and she had been invited to go with him. Her response to the invitation had possibly been a little lacking in enthusiasm, but something in his manner suggested that the probable motive for the trip was to buy her an engagement ring and she still had far too many misgivings about that. She sighed in sympathy with her own predicament as she snipped at a length of raffia, cutting it off neatly against a stake. It was so difficult to deny Sean anything when he was so full of enthusiasm. 'You're a very efficient gardener.' Rowan started almost guiltily and Laura laughed. 'I was miles away,' Rowan explained. 'In the land of dreams?' Laura suggested, her expression benign and understanding. "I expect you find it hard 'to concentrate on anything, don't you, my dear?' Rowan's smile allowed it as the truth, but she would have given much to confide in Laura what her real absence of mind meant. "I do rather find myself absentminded,' she admitted. "I'm sorry.' "Oh, please don't be,' Laura protested with a smile. 'I almost envy you your young love. Rowan, and having everything before you.' Rowan smiled, unwilling to comment too openly on the future Laura foresaw for her. 'It's rather unnerving when one stops to think about it,' she said. "The unknown quantity I almost wish I had Rupert's gift for foretelling the future, it must be quite reassuring to know what to expect.' 'Not always, I think,' Laura sighed. 'Poor Rupert could see what was in store for him, I'm sure of it, and that can't have been much comfort to him.' 'Rupert told my fortune too,' Rowan reminded her, watching to see it Laura would remember just what* Rupert had told her. "It wasn't too rosy for me, if I remember.' "Oh, I think it was,' Laura assured her hastily. 'A true love, wasn't it, and a happy life, of course that's pretty well standard fortune-telling, but I think Rupert knew what he was saying.' Rowan looked down at the length of raffia she held between her fingers, idly tying lovers' knots and as hastily destroying them again as she spoke. 'I remember the exact words,' she said quietly. "A false love and then a true one, Laura, those were his words. You will make a sad mistake the first time you love, but in time, when you see more clearly, you will choose right and have a long and good life.' She raised her eyes and looked at Laura anxiously, asking to be reassured. 'He knew we should also be be friends,' she added. 'He did see what was to happen, Laura, and it came true as far as he was concerned, you must admit that.' At last Laura understood, it seemed, something of what was preoccupying her so deeply, and she looked 156 at her for a moment before she answered. 'I know he was right about you being a good friend to him, Rowan dear, and I think he meant it when he said you would have a long and happy life, but surely Sean isn't your first love, is he? You're a very lovely girl, you must have had men friends before.' Rowan shook her head. 'I've had casual boy-friends,' ' she admitted, 'but never anyone serious at all, Laura, not until Sean.' For a moment Laura said nothing, then she smiled and put out a comforting hand. 'I think you must have forgotten one that was more serious than the others,' she told her. 'That's what it is. Rowan dear, someone you've forgotten.' 'I expect so,' Rowan agreed uncertainly, and shook her head to try and rid herself of the depression that enveloped her. 'That must be it,' she smiled. 'Anyway, Sean says that was all nonsense -and he doesn't believe any of it.' 'That's what he says,' Laura told her swiftly and obviously without thinking, 'but Sean's as good an Irishman as any and he's more superstitious than he admits to.' It was scarcely consolation, but she could see that Laura had spoken without thinking and she smiled. 'I'm glad to hear it,' she told her. 'Too much practicality frightens me.' Laura laughed, apparently content to have made her smile again. 'Oh, now whoever heard of a practical Irishman?' she objected. 'In some things they are, perhaps, but when it comes to superstition and so on well, we're world champions ' 'Like ploughing round fairy rings rather than destroying them,' Rowan teased, unaware of where she was leading herself. 'Or replacing them when they've been dug up. It hardly seems feasible in this 157 day and age.' 'But it's true.' She knew from the tone of Laura's voice how much she had given away and, too late, wished she had kept silent. "You've seen the one at Thornhill?' Laura asked, and Rowan nodded. I 'Yes, I have.' 'I know Sean won't have told you about it being destroyed and then remade,' Laura told her quietly. 'He never talks about it it's one of the things he's super- stitious about.' 'No,' Rowan admitted, "it wasn't Sean.' She would have left the matter there, but Laura seemed ready to pursue it to the bitter end. 'Then it i must have been Michael Doran.' ' 'I didn't say that,' Rowan objected. 'I do speak to other people as well, you know.' ,3 'I know you do,' Laura allowed, 'but it's unlikely one of the villagers would have told you, knowing how ; you and Sean are together, and they always fight shy of mentioning that sort of thing to strangers anyway.' ' She looked at Rowan steadily, almost accusingly. 'The only man I know who would care little enough about superstition to tell you about the ring is Michael ? Doran,' she said. 'Well, actually it was him,' Rowan admitted, feeling resentment at being made to feel so guilty about it. 'He showed it to me a couple of weeks ago.' Laura nodded, her expression regretful. 'It had to I be,' she said. "I'm sorry it had to be him. Rowan, because Sean is so easily hurt and the idea of you going over there with Michael Doran would be very . hurtful to him.' : Rowan flushed at the reproof, no matter how mild. , 'I didn't exactly go with him,' she told her. 'With i Michael Doran there's very often little or no choice.' Laura's light blue eyes studied her for a moment 158 curiously and. Rowan felt, doubtfully. 'I see,' she said at last. 'I didn't realise that. Rowan, I'm sorry. You didn't say anything at the time,' she added. 'I thought it best not to,' Rowan told her, and smiled wryly. 'For the obvious reasons, Sean would have made an awful fuss about it.' 'Of course he would,' Laura said quietly and rather disapprovingly. "He loves you.' 'I know he does.' She studied the raffia in her hand again and twisted it into a knot. 'At least he likes me enough to dislike the idea of anyone else even talking to me.' She looked up at Laura curiously. 'Did you realise he was even jealous of Rupert?' she asked. Laura stared for a moment, then sighed resignedly. 'I can imagine he might have been,' she admitted. .'Sean's a very emotional man and he resents anyone taking an interest ,in what he considers is his own.' 'As if I was an inanimate object,' Rowan protested. 'I don't like being branded and laid claim to, Laura. I've always been independent, I've had to be, and I don't like being restricted.' 'Oh, Rowan, I'm sure he doesn't mean it like that,' Laura objected. 'He loves you and you are going to marry him.' Rowan smiled wryly. 'Yes, I am, aren't I?' 'Are you excited about your trip tomorrow?' Laura asked, and Rowan smiled. ' 'It's obvious that you are,' she told her. 'I think you know something I don't, Laura.' 'I think I do,' Laura agreed. "But I shall leave you in suspense because that's what Sean wants. He wants to tell you the rest himself when it becomes fact.' Rowan would rather have liked to ask Sean about the other reason for his visit to Gallyborn, but Laura had warned her that she must not let him know she had i59 even hinted at it, so she sat through lunch thoughtful and rather uncommunicative. A walk, she decided after lunch, would dear her mind a bit and help her to think straight, something she was finding increasingly difficult lately. Something that she could not pinpoint was unsettling her and making her restless as she had never been in her life before and she resented it whatever it was. Walking through the village she was surprised and intrigued by the sight of a large shiny van parked in front of old Mr. O'Hare's cottage, looking garishly out of place among the little cottages. A young man in brown overalls grinned appreciatively at her as she passed and another winked one eye from the old man's garden when she loo
ked across at him curiously. The side of the van bore the information 'Brendan Maguire and Company, Plumbers, Decorators and Heating Engineers', and Rowan was further surprised. Mr. O'Hare himself could never have afforded to engage the services of anyone so grand, she felt sure, but the only alternative was that his landlord had engaged them for him. The idea so pleased her for a moment that she instinctively smiled to herself. So Michael Doran was at last realising his responsibilities, and doing something about them. Not meaning to go very far afield she kept to the road and went on through the village, resisting the temptation to cross the bridge and visit the little stream again. Before long she could see the beginning of the bridle path that led eventually to Tomaltach and automatically she glanced over at it, reminded again of the van at Mr. O'Hare's. She told herself that the appearance of Michael Doran round the bend in the long path was a surprise, but in fact she had been half expecting to see him. She had thought to mention the appearance of the 160 workmen and perhaps let him know that she was delighted with his change of heart. He was always telling her that she was too critical of him, so now she could perhaps be less so. Only one thing made her hesitate over the idea, and that was the fact that he would inevitably turn her praise into something she had not meant it to be and start the inevitable argument which she, as usual, would lose. He raised a hand in greeting when he saw her and she automatically responded, although she did not pause even for a second, urged on by a sudden inexplicable shyness. He was riding Phelan, she noticed, and knew that if he was bent on speaking to her, the big grey would make little of the long bridle path and the distance between them. Part of her wanted him to catch up with her so that she could discover just what it was that Brendan Maguire and Company were doing in Mr. O'Hare's cottage and part of her wanted to avoid, if possible, the inevitable teasing she would have to endure for her curiosity. 'Rowan ' She heard his call and the thudding of the grey's hooves behind her and half turned to look over her shoulder. He reined Phelan to a halt beside her and slid down from the saddle, his eyes both curious and mocking, as if he suspected she would like to mention the workmen and question him about them. There were times, she thought ruefully, when his uncanny knack of anticipating her was discomfiting. 'Good morning,' she said as he fell into step beside her. 'It's afternoon, actually,' he told her, and laughed. 'I'm sorry,' she apologised quietly, determinedly calm. 'Good afternoon, Mr. Doran.' 'Oh, don't apologise,' he told her airily. 'I suppose 161 you don't even know what day it is half the time, do you? Not now that your head's in the douds.' He reached across her and took her left hand in his, regarding its nakedness for a moment solemnly. 'You still haven't got a ring, I see.' Rowan snatched her hand away, seeing the conversation already getting out of her control. 'No, I haven't,' she agreed shortly. 'You haven't by any chance seen the light, have you?' 'I don't know what you mean,' said Rowan, wishing there was something she could do about the in-sistent fluttering under her ribs. 'Oh yes, you do,' he insisted, 'but you refuse to admit it especially to me.' She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, her cheeks pink, more regretful than angry at the moment. 'I wish you wouldn't be ' She shook her head, disturbed by the look she saw in his eyes. 'I suppose you get some sort of amusement from embarrassing me,' she told him, 'so you must be very pleased to know you're succeeding.' 'In embarrassing you?' He cocked a brow at her and she could almost believe him sorry for it. 'I'm sorry about that.' 'Are you? I rather thought it was your favourite form of amusement.' 'What, teasing you?' he laughed. He studied her for a second, grey eyes glittering wickedly. 'Well, at least you believe in fighting back, don't you?' Rowan stuck out her chin. 'Yes, I do believe in fighting back,' she told him. 'Although I don't suppose it's what you're used to, m'lord of the manor, you'd rather I kowtowed like the rest of the population. Well, I don't lick anyone's boots no matter how elevated they may be ' To her chagrin, he laughed, and it was only with 162 difficulty that she refrained from hitting him, hard. 'Do you spit fire at Sean Maxwell the way you do at me?' he asked. 'Or are you the meek little girl with him?' 'Sean doesn't behave as you do,' Rowan protested. 'He doesn't read you as well as I do,' he countered, 'that's why.' "That's nonsense.' 'Is it?' The grey eyes challenged her, so that she looked away again hastily. "I'll bet he doesn't realise the reason you're reluctant to wear his ring. He probably doesn't even realise you are reluctant.' Rowan drew a sharp breath and bit her lip anxiously, recognising once again that he had read what was in her mind with dismaying accuracy. She took a deep breath before plunging into what could be a discussion she would regret. "Just supposing I was reluctant, as you claim, to wear Sean's ring,' she said, "and I don't for one minute admit I am, what would be your version of my reason?'. Surprisingly he answered quite seriously. 'For the one I mentioned. You don't really want to be engaged to him at all and as long as your not wearing his ring you can salve your conscience by saying it isn't really a binding agreement. I imagine you've worked it out in some cock-eyed feminine form of logic if there's no ring on your finger you can still back out with an easy conscience.' "I have no intention of backing out,' Rowan declared, and he cocked a brow at her again. 'No? Would you be willing to swear to that on a stack of bibles. Rowan?' It was far too discomfitingly near the truth for Rowan to admit it and she looked down at her feet, wishing she had come any other way for her walk this afternoon. 'I don't have to swear to anything,' she told him, her voice sounding horribly uncertain. 'And 163 please can we drop the subject of my engagement, it concerns no one else but Sean and me.' He said nothing for a moment or two and she wondered it he was going to argue further, but then he put a hand under her elbow and they moved on again, the big grey dip-dopping slowly alongside. It was amazing, she thought wildly, how she was meekly walking along with him, even letting him take her arm as if he had every right to do so. She should have objected, insisted he left her alone, but somehow she was less annoyed by his company than she should have been, certainly less than Sean would have expected her to be. 'Did you come through the village?' he asked suddenly, and she glanced up at him, guessing he was leading up to the matter of the workmen at Mr. O'Hare's cottage. 'Yes.' If he expected her to open the subject, she thought, he was mistaken, and she frowned over his chuckle. 'I don't see ' she began. 'I do,' he assured her, still laughing. 'You're bursting with curiosity, but you won't ask about anything, will .you? You wouldn't give me the satisfaction.' 'I couldn't care less about the workmen at ' She bit her tongue, glaring at him when he laughed delightedly at her slip. 'Who at where?' he teased, and she tilted her chin stubbornly. 'I refuse to let you have an excuse for calling me inquisitive,' she told him stiffly. 'Fair enough.' He said no more and she was obliged to burn with curiosity while he calmly refused to say any more about it. 'You are the most maddening creature,' she stormed at him at last, unable to keep quiet any longer. 'You know I'm wondering about those workmen and you 164 deliberately led me on, then left me in suspense ' 'Poor Rowan ' He laughed softly and squeezed the arm he held against his side. 'Stop it!' She snatched her arm away and turned on her heel, leaving him there but not for long. He led Phelan round and was beside her again in seconds, obviously bent on placating her, a fact which she noted with surprise and some satisfaction. "Old Mr. O'Hare is first on the list,' he told her and, despite her determination not to be drawn, she turned and looked at him curiously. 'First on the list?' He nodded, a faint smile acknowledging her change of heart. 'I'm afraid it's only water and sanitation for a start,' he told her, 'but you must admit it is a start, and it'll take time doing them all.' She blinked. 'You mean you mean you're having all the cottages modernised?' It was rather a lot to grasp at first and some niggling little question at the back of her mind kept wondering what Sean's reaction would be. After all the times he had condemned Michael Doran for allowing what he termed a slum to exist, he would have to admit that, delayed as the action had been, something was at last being done to remedy the offence. She hastily dismissed the disloyal thought that Sean would be less pleased about the improvements than he should be
. 'I'm having them improved,' Michael corrected her. 'It'll take more than a few pipes to bring Mr. O'Hare and old Mrs. Fitzgerald into the twentieth century, but it's a start.' 'It's a wonderful start,' Rowan agreed enthusiastically, forgetting her usual reticence for a moment in her delight at the news. 'It's it's marvellous, and I'm so pleased I ' She stopped short, feeling the warmth in her cheeks when he looked down at her. 165 'I'm glad you're pleased,' he told her quietly. 'It's so nice to have done something you approve of.' 'I wasn't being ' she shook her head. 'Oh, why do you always have to be so sarcastic about things? I was just pleased that your were doing something to those cottages after all this time, that's all.' A hand on her arm brought her to a halt and he turned her to face him. She had seldom seen him so serious for so long and she found it difficult to keep her hands from trembling as she looked up at him. suppose Maxwell's version is that while my tenants have been living in dire poverty, I've been living off the fat of the land,' he guessed, and Rowan did not answer, knew she had no need to. 'I thought so,' he said, 'and you share his view.' ' I don't know that I do.' 'You did until a few minutes ago,' he retorted. 'Now you're beginning to have doubts and you don't like the feeling, do you. Rowan?' 'I had no cause to doubt that what I heard was right,' Rowan protested. 'You do live like a a lord of the manor and your tenants do live in bad conditions.' He looked at her for a moment as if he despaired of making her see sense. 'I suppose you have visions of me sitting down every night to a banquet fit for a king?' he said, and smiled wryly at the idea. 'And that whiskey I dosed you with has no doubt been' marked down against me too.' 'I didn't say ' she began uneasily, and was cut short. 'You don't have to say,' he told her impatiently, and laughed shortly. 'I'd love you to see one of our banquets,' he told her. "You'd never believe what we quite often have at Tomaltach.' Rowan shook her head 166 dazedly. 'Rabbit,' he said, and she had a nasty feeling that he was laughing at her, but she was too unsure to pass comment. 'Stewed, roast, braised and baked,' he went on. 'It's very appetising and very inexpensive. We like 'em. Believe me, McConnell's gun accounts for a lot more rabbits than poachers.' Rowan felt things were going a little too fast for her. 'You mean you have to ' 'Of course we don't have to,' he laughed, 'but we do. I was just trying to impress on you that caviare and smoked salmon aren't regular items on the menu, as you seem to think.' His eyes teased her unmercifully. 'Neither,' he added, 'do we live on an unrelieved diet of bunny meat, just in case you swing your sympathies too far the other way.' Rowan felt uncomfortably small and rather mean suddenly. Everything she had believed about him seemed to have an explanation. It was, after all, only his word against Sean's when it came to believing the story about Maggie Brady, and now he was rapidly convincing her that the luxury she had visualised him living in was non-existent. It was very disconcerting to suddenly have all her reasons for disliking him swept away, and she shook her head slowly as she tried to absorb it all. 'I'm I'm sorry.' 'About the rabbits?' he asked, deliberately misunderstanding, and she frowned. 'You know what I mean.' 'I hope you mean you're sorry you got hold of the wrong end of the stick,' he told her, 'but I've a nasty feeling you feel rather let down, not having all those sound reasons for hating the sight of me.' 'I'm sorry �I misjudged you,' she said, then remembered suddenly that there was still one of his167 sins unexpurgated. 'But you did take Sean's home and land away from him,' she added. 'You can't justify that.' 'You think not?' : 'It was his home,' she insisted. 'And you can't pay for repairs and renovations with I.O.U.s,' he retorted. 'My father was poorer than anyone knew when he died, far worse off then he should : have been. Old Brendan Maxwell owed him far more than that house and land were worth, it had accumu- i lated over the years and my father was too softhearted. Unlike his son,' he grinned at her wryly. 'In the end, when I got the estate, it was Maxwell's comfort or plain economics and I'm afraid I took the practical view. I was selfish enough to grudge Maxwell living it up in his family home while mine fell about my ears, so I foreclosed and put Thornhill to work for me.' 'I see.' It was becoming harder and harder not to see his point of view, and she thought how Sean would have hated to see her so ready to believe what he told her. 'With the money coming in from Thornhill,' he . went on,''old Mr. O'Hare can at last have running water in his cottage and the others too. It took time, but it's possible at last. Was it so very hard-hearted of -me. Rowan?' f,'No no, I suppose not,' she admitted. 'You're disappointed?' She looked up at the grey eyes watching her, half amused and, it seemed to her, half hoping to be H believed. 'Not disappointed,' she denied, 'just just confused. I don't know who to believe.' H 'I see.' H 'I don't mean that that I entirely disbelieve you,' gshe told him hastily, seeing an unexpected tightness round his mouth. "It's just that Sean seems to dislike you so much and I can't believe he'd be so unreasonable if he knew the circumstances.' 'I see,' he said again. "You don't actually think I'm a liar, but you'd rather believe Maxwell and suspect some other, more ulterior, motive for what I did.' 'I didn't say that!' He looked down at her, rather surprisingly amused, although there was still a tight look about his mouth and his eyes were dark with something that could have been temper. 'You don't have to say it. Rowan, it's plain on your face.' 'Oh, why do you always ' She stopped short when the sound of a car reached them from round the next bend, and was not too surprised when Sean's ancient little vehicle Came into view. Michael said nothing, but he too turned his head and his mouth curled wryly when he saw who the newcomer was. Sean hit the horn button hard, his face set and angry, one hand calling Rowan over. The grey skittered nervously at the sound and, while Michael was busy quietening him. Rowan walked back and climbed into the car beside Sean, feeling rather strangely as if she was deserting her erstwhile companion. Sean said nothing, but there was a look as hard as ice in his blue eyes as he leaned across her to close the door. Michael, after a brief shrug of resignation, put a foot in the stirrup iron to remount and he was balanced half way to the saddle when both the engine and the horn of the little car blasted into action. Rowan had time only to see the panic-stricken grey rear wildly as they drove past, far too close for comfort, but she cried a protest. A protest that was ignored as Sean drove on, stem-faced. 'Sean!' She tried to turn in her seat. 'You must stop!' She looked back as well as she could for the speed he 169 was forcing from the ancient little car. She just ,- managed to see that Phelan was now apparently still- and over his panic, but Michael Doran was lying on the road beside him and looking horribly and omin- .H ously still. ;!