Once Brona returned him to her arms, Emer felt complete, whole, fulfilled, for the first time since she had left her former home at Kilbracken.
"My sweet William."
"Mama," he said, reaching up for a dazzling red curl.
Emer burst into tears then, and Dalton held her close.
"That's right, son, Mama."
His own mother came up to stroke his shoulder, and admire her grandson.
Then Cathan and the girls begged a turn with him, and Emer reluctantly gave him to them as Dalton pointed out, "He'll be fine. He'll never be taken from us again. So come, darling, let's enjoy the party our friends have arranged for us."
She wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded. "Yes, of course, my love."
"That's my girl." He stooped to kiss her, then led her to the top table where the cake had been set.
Then the festivities began in earnest, with speeches, toasts, and everyone taking turns dancing with the deliriously happy bride and groom.
Finally, in the early evening, Dalton and Emer managed to slip away from their wedding reception, and took a short walk across the fields with his wife and son on either arm to their new home he had built for them in the expectation of her finally coming home to him.
It was a wonderful neo-Classical mansion with four tall pillars in the portico, but Emer had little time to admire it, for Dalton picked Emer up and hurriedly carried her and the contentedly sleeping William over the threshold.
Then they hurried up the stairs so they could settle their son in the nursery.
Once they were sure he was happily asleep, he led her into the adjoining master bedroom.
Dalton grinned. “And now you, my love, it's time to get undressed and take a nap. I doubt either of us have had a wink of sleep since you arrived home.”
“I couldn’t sleep. I’m too excited, and besides I’m starving,” Emer declared, licking her lips as she unbuttoned the front of her gown.
“Starving? After all that that food at the wedding reception?” Dalton asked in surprise.
“No, my love, starving for your kisses and caresses.” Emer stroked his cheek warmly, leaving him in no doubt of her desires.
Within seconds their discarded garments were strewn haphazardly all over the floor. Amid murmured endearments and breathy sighs, they savoured each other's bodies all over again in the vast blue and gold canopied bed, as though making love for the first time.
Dalton said as much to Emer in a quieter moment, and Emer nodded. “It was the first time, the beginning of the rest of our lives together, Dalton. But I warn you, dearest, now that I’m back, I’ll never let you go.”
“Nor will I ever let you out of my sight, wench. God knows what you’d get up to if I did!”
“I was completely innocent.” Emer laughed, rubbing against him intimately to belie her words.
“Innocent. My dear, you could show a harem a thing or two." She giggled happily, and showed him a few more things that left him gasping with need.
Later, when they had quieted once more, he said, "But seriously, darling, the last time we were separated you narrowly missed being hung, drawn and quartered. So if that's your idea of innocent, I hate to think what would happen to you if you were really guilty!
"As for innocent, where were you educated, woman, in a bordello? Such wanton behaviour proves that the best thing is to keep you close by me always,” Dalton insisted in a dry tone.
Emer giggled as Dalton rolled her on her back and entered her again.
“Dalton, really, isn’t it a bit too soon to....” she gasped.
“My hunger for you is insatiable, Emer. It always has been. For my entire life I’ve yearned for a woman who could love me unreservedly, and our time apart has only made me more convinced that we truly belong together.”
She cupped his cheek tenderly. “Just as I hungered for you, my love, long before I ever met you. I wanted a man who would be by my side always, strong when I needed him to be, and one who would accept me for who I am, and love me enough not to want to change me. Oh Dalton, I can’t tell you how much I missed you once you’d left me in Clonmel,” Emer confessed sadly.
“Even before Clonmel, darling, I made some terrible mistakes. I should have told you the truth about who I was, and asked you to marry me on the Pegasus long before we ever reached the shores of Canada. Then maybe none of this would ever have happened."
She held him close to her heart and soothed, "Sometimes I wish you had as well. But things happen for a reason. If you had, your father would probably still be alive making all our lives hell, and I would never ever have met the Bishop or helped so many children or so many prisoners."
He nodded. "I know. Much as it pains me to admit it, you could be right. But of course we'll never know now, and unlike you, my love, I don’t have such a ready capacity to love and forgive others.
"But I'm talking about my own actions more recently, darling. At Clonmel prison I wanted to drag you back here with me so badly, yet I would never have been sure of your love if I had. I wanted you to come back and marry me, with or without little William being here,” Dalton confessed.
“And now I have, and we have him back, by some miracle,” Emer said with a loving smile that Dalton simply could not resist. He rolled on top of her to move inside her alluringly.
“You’re the miracle, Emer, that you ever fell in love with a man as selfish me, but I promise to devote the rest of my life to making you happy.”
Emer smiled with sheer delight. “You do, Dalton, you do.”
“As you said to me in Clonmel, the great hunger of the famine brought us together, and my voracious appetite for your every look, word and deed, will sustain our love for the rest of our lives,” Dalton breathed.
“I hope you’ll be up to feeding me, my dear. I have a very healthy appetite where you’re concerned,” Emer purred.
“Don’t worry, Emer, the gourmet banquet has only just begun.”
Dalton held Emer as though he would never let her go, and made passionate love to her in the rosy light of the setting sun, both their hungry hearts fulfilled at last.
HISTORICAL NOTE
Though Emer and her family are fictional, all the details of the suffering of the Irish, and the Irish immigrants to the New World, are taken from many first-hand accounts of the Famine and its resultant suffering. The sources quoted in the text, where mentioned, are accurate, and the texts are the originals. Any readers looking for further information can consult Robert Whyte’s The Famine Ship Diary, 1847 , Mercier Press, Dublin: 1994; The Great Hunger, Cecil Woodham Smyth, Hamish Hamilton, London: 1962; and The Great Famine: Studies in Irish History, 1845-1852, edited by R. Dudley Edwards and T. Desmond Williams, The Lilliput Press, Dublin: 1994.
These are just a few of the excellent books available regarding this most tragic event.
As for the 1848 Rebellion, Robert Kee’s trilogy on the history of the period was my main source. In case any one is wondering, O’Brien and McManus did serve part of their sentences, but eventually escaped from Tasmania and went to the States and Canada to live happily ever after.
As an interesting coda, O’Brian and Mc Manus were the last people to ever be sentenced to be hung, drawn and quartered. The punishment had of course been originally invented for William Wallace, (he of the film Braveheart ) the great patriot of Scotland, over five hundred years before.
The charitable works described were carried out by many brave, often nameless individuals, who gave unstintingly of themselves to forward the goals of curing disease and developing prison reform. The indifference of the British government, happily, was not completely shared by the wealthy of the UK, Ireland, the USA and Canada. Thus the Irish not only survived, but thrived.
Though the population was whittled from eight million down to only three million by the end of the Famine years through disease and death, and departure for new homes, Ireland has remained a dynamic, optimistic country, still unspoiled and quite rural. And yes, still v
ery adoring of the potato.
As for the poetry, I hope you enjoyed my choices; it is the Renaissance literature and history scholar in me bursting out every so often. As for the songs, well, many thanks to all my fine musician friends for the craic. Blessings to you all! Beannacht libh!
MORE TITLES BY AUTHOR
Call Home the Heart
The Fire of Love Series
The Fire's Center
The Unquenchable Fire
Hunger of the Heart Series
Hunger for Love
The Hungry Heart
The Hungry Heart Fulfilled
The Hungry Heart Fulfilled (The Hunger of the Heart Series Book 3) Page 29