by A. O'Connor
“I realise that, Barton, but I do need to make sure all our estate workers are safe during this terrible time.”
“Even a thief like Seán?”
“Christian duty, Barton.”
Barton’s enquiries continued and he finally came back with news. “Seemingly afterSeán was evicted he stayed at the inn in Castlewest for a short time.”
At the first opportunity Anna made her way to the innkeeper.
“Yes, I remember he slept here afew nights. He didn’t say he had any plans or where he was going. Then one night he just didn’t come back.”
“Didn’t come back? And what of his things?”
“He didn’t bother collecting them. They weren’t worth anything, so I threw them out.”
“I see.” She looked down at the floor.
“Did you try the workhouse, ma’am? He probably ran out of money here and went there.”
“Yes – yes. I’ll check there, thank you.”
“We’re very honoured to have you visit, Lady Armstrong,” said Doctor Cantwellwhen she visited the workhouse. The local landlord was obliged under the Poor Act to pay for the local workhouse, but that’s where most of their interest began and ended, the doctor knew. This interest from Lady Armstrong was very welcome, and he hoped would result in more funds. She looked up at the gloomy formidable stone building. She looked at the famished people gathered outside.
“Why are they not yet admitted?” she asked.
“We have no room to admit them, Lady Armstrong.”
“No room?”
“We’recompletely overcrowded as it is.”
He showed her through the front door. She looked around the dark interiors and became depressed at the sight of it and the strong odours circulating.
“Doctor Cantwell, I’m looking for somebody. A man from our estate who we can’t find. Seán Hegarty. Have you any record of him here?”
“I’ll see,” he said, scratching his head, and led her into his small office where he started taking out the books and going through them.
“No – no Seán Hegarty admitted.”
Her heart sank. “Could I take a look around?”
He looked amazed. “If you want.”
He led her through dark corridors. “We separate the men from the women, and the children up to fifteen from the adults.”
“So the families are not together?” She was shocked.
“It the most efficient way to run things,” answered the doctor.
He stood at a door and looked at her for a moment before opening it and waving her in. She walked in. She didn’t know what was worse, the famished people outside or the looks on the faces of the people inside. The room was large and long and packed with men. She started to walk through but stopped, unable to go any further.
“Seán! Seán Hegarty – are you here?” she shouted.
Nobody said anything. She turned without saying a word and rushed from the building to her awaiting carriage where she broke down in tears.
Chapter thirty-seven
As she walked through the gardens at the house, alone with her thoughts and reliving the things she had seen outside the estate, she resolved not to give up looking for Seán. She would do whatever it took to find him. She felt weighed down by a horrendous sense of guilt and shame. How could she have done such a thing? Fear had driven her to do it but that was not enough for her to merit forgiveness.
She had to put it right. There were other towns with other workhouses and she would keep looking until she found Seán.
She would bring him home.
As the months went by she travelled from town to town searching, always bringing money or food from the house and giving it to people as she enquired about Seán. She walked through the towns, looking at each emaciated face to see if it was his. She visited the Hamilton estate where she knew Seán had been born and visited his family. Luckily they were being well cared for by the new landlord there, but they had heard nothing from Seán and were very distressed to hear he had gone missing. As she conversed with his family, she was amazed at the fact that she would be connected to them for ever through Lawrence and they would never know.
She travelled to Dublin and visited all the ship companies to see if there was any record of Seán leaving for Britain. She couldn’t find any. She remembered him talking about going to America, so she travelled to Cork to check the records of the ship companies there going to America. But she could find no record. She was haunted by the sights she saw of the people suffering along the way, and wrote tirelessly to her father and his politician friends, giving accounts of what she had witnessed. And when she got back to the house she would sit in the nursery cradling her son close to her.
“I’ll find him. I’ll bring him home. It doesn’t matter how long it takes,” she would whisper over and over before setting off on her journeys again.
She was eating breakfast in the dining room alone when Edward came in holding a copy of The Times.
“They’ve printed another letter from you,” he said, handing her the newspaper. She took it up and quickly read her letter, describing some pitiful sight she had seen and urging the government for more help.
“That should shame them into giving more!” she said, putting down the paper and continuing to eat breakfast.
“Where are you going today?” he asked.
“There’s a workhouse down in Galway I’ve arranged to visit. I’ve got Cook to prepare food for us to give. And I’ve raised money from our friends to provide the passage to America for some of the inmates there. I’ll be back before dark.”
She got up to go and he grabbed her hand. “Anna! You can’t go.”
She looked at him incredulously. “Why not?”
“There’s been an outbreak of cholera in many workhouses. The doctors and everyone are getting it.”
“Oh no! Well, they will need the food more than ever. I’ll just leave it in and won’t stay long.”
She went to walk away, but he held on to her hand and pulled her close.
“Anna! No! You can’t go!”
“But the people need help!”
“And you can’t give anymore. If you keep mixing with them you will get cholera. You’ll bring it back here and giveit to Lawrence, me, the servants. Is that what you want?”
“Of course not! But I can’t abandon my work.”
“Anna, you have to. You’re wearing yourself down to nothing. Look at you!” He pulled her over to the mirror and made her look at herself.
She got a shock at seeing her reflection. She hadn’t had time to view herself for ages. Gone was the bright fresh young girl who worried about what ribbons to wear and who to invite to parties. She seemed to have aged overnight. She touched her own skin.
“You’re exhausted, Anna. You need to look after yourself now. There’s only so much anyone can do.”
“But you don’t understand, Edward. I have to go on. I can’t stop.”
He held her tightly. “But I do understand. And it’s now time to stop.”
Chapter thirty-eight
Anna didn’t travel after that. She stayed at the house and the estate, minding Lawrence and Edward. Anyone who met her said the sparkle had gone from her. The bright carefree girl was replaced by a sad woman. They said it was all the awful things she had seen while doing all her renowned good works for the famine victims.
At night she would slip out of the house and run through the gardens down to the lakeshore where she stared out at the water whispering, “I’m sorry. Come home –please come home. We miss you. Lawrence and I miss you.”
Edward sat in the nursery late at night cradling Lawrence close to him as he looked out the window at Anna who was walking through the gardens on her own.
His mind drifted back to a few months ago on the evening he had returned from Dublin having attended a political rally to demand assistance from the government.
He had arrived back to the house in the late evening. Anna had been unwell a
nd had gone to bed early. Edward looked in on her and then the baby and then came down to the library to work on letters to members of parliament. As he wrote athis desk, he heard the door open and he looked up to seeSeán standing there.
“What the blazes are you doing here? And how did you get in?” demanded Edward.
Seán closed the door behind him. “I know this estate better than you – it wasn’t so hard for me to slip by Sinclair’s guards up to the house.”
Edward jumped to his feet “I thought it was made clear to you never to enter this estate, let alone the house again?”
“Oh, it was made clear all right. Crystal clear.”
“So you’ve come back to rob us again, have you?” Edward was confused by Seán’s behaviour. If it was a robbery Seán didn’t seem panicked to have been discovered.
“No, I haven’t come to rob you – I never robbed you in the first place.”
“I think the evidence of finding the locket in your cottage says otherwise.”
“I didn’t rob that locket, it was planted there.”
“And who would do such a thing, and why?”
“Your wife, Lord Edward.”
Edward stared at him in disbelief. “Have you gone mad, man? I have never encountered such insolence or madness from a tenant!”
“She planted thelocket so as to get me off the estate. She wanted me gone because. . . because I threatened to tell the truth.”
“What are you talking about for heaven’s sakes? The truth about what?”
Seán looked him in the eye and said, “Lawrence is mine.Ask Anna. That is why she threw me off the estate. But I crept back here tonight to tell you the truth.”
Edward was in such shock he could not speak.
“She thought she could get rid of me just like that. Set me up over the locket and then have me thrown out like a pile of rubbish. I’ve lost everything over her – my home, my livelihood, my good name – everyone thinks I’m a thief. I’ve hardly any money left. Nothing left for me but to starve now. While she gets what she wanted, a child, my son, and carries on living here as if I never existed. That’s why I had to tell you the truth. To show you what kind of a bitch you’re married to.”
“Get out! I want you to leave my house immediately.”
“Are you not listening to me? She’s betrayed you, like she’s betrayed me! He’s my son!”
Edward stood stock still in shock, his head spinning as he heard Seán speak. The filthy lies spilling out of his mouth. Thoughts raced through his head – Anna’s sudden request that Seán be given the post of head groom, her insistence she no longer needed his services, the strange incident of the missing locket, Seán’s long record of honest service . . .
He looked into Seán’s face and saw the resemblance between him and Lawrence – and he knew he spoke the truth.
Seán’s voice was growing louder and louder.
“Are you so stupid you can’t see?” he was shouting now, trying to get a reaction from Edward, to make him understand. “Can’t you see he looks like me? He’s my son! Lawrence is my son!”
“Shut up! Somebody will hear! I command you to be quiet!”
But this only made Seán more agitated and his voice rose to a scream.
“Lawrence is my son!”
Suddenly Edward reached for the poker beside the fire, raised it high in the air and hit Seán hard across the head. Seánstood swaying ashe looked at Edward in disbelieffor a few moments while the blood spilled down his face. Then he collapsed to the floor.
Edward stood there for a while, holding the poker, staring down at Seán’s prostrate figure. There wasn’t a sound from him or a movement.
Edward dropped the poker and bent down beside him. But his body was lifeless.
Edward locked the library door and sat staring at Seán’s body for hours. It was only when it was well after midnight and he knew all the servants had gone to bed that he acted.
He fetched a blanket and wrapped Seán’s body in it, then quietly opened the library window and slid the body out. Closing the window, he made his way out of the house and around to the stables where he hitched a horse to the phaeton and led it around to the library window. His heart was hammering and the blood drumming in his ears as he knew the risk of being heard or seen was high. Lifting Seán’s body into the carriage, he set off at a gentle pace until he was out of sight and earshot of the house.
Then Edward drove like a madman into town. He knew what he must do. He had committed murder, but nature had given him the perfect opportunity to disguise it. There was a field at the back of the town where victims of the famine were being buried in a mass grave. He checked to see if anyone was looking but there was noone in sight. But even if he was seen, all he was doing was placing another victim of the famine in an unmarked mass grave. He tossedSeán’s body in with the others, drove home to the house, and cleared up any evidence.
As he cradledLawrence now, heknew what he did was wrong. But he knew he did it for Lawrence. Anna was distraught, anguishing over the fate of Seán. She had been on a mission looking for him everywhere, overwhelmed with guilt that she had evicted him and that he might be a victim of famine. She did not know Edward knew the truth of her deception. She did not know Edward knew the fate of Lawrence’s true father. But as Edward looked out at her walking through the gardens under the dark sky, he had no doubts of her love for him – her every look and action spoke of it. He knew in his heart why she’d had intercourse with Seán. He knew their own love would survive even though it would never be the same. They had both acted for their own survival, and for their son Lawrence. And now Edward realised they must concentrate on him, that his life will be worthy of their actions.
Book 2: 1913-1922
Chapter thirty-nine
It was said that Clara Charter had received twenty-one proposals of marriage from some of London’s most eligible men by her twenty-first birthday. When questioned if this was true, Clara would reply that that was nothing in comparison to the amount of less honourable propositions she had received from London’s less eligible men. Now, at twenty-four, Clara remained one of the great beauties and most sought-after young women in Londonsociety. Hardly a party guest-list was comprised without Clara’s name hovering near the top. She was used to this attention, she had received it all her life. Her father’s family was Charters’ Chocolates & Confectionery, a name whose very mention was as guilty in titillating the taste-buds as Cadbury or Charbonnel et Walker. Her father had gone on to carve out a highly successful career in banking in the city. Her mother was descended from a long line of mill-owners and merchants from the north. And so this generation of Charters hadthe right background, connections and manners to be correctly placed to take an important role in society. All this, matched with Clara’s beauty and fun-loving personality, made her the crème de la crème.
At the annual Charlemont ball, there had been a twelve-course dinner, and Clara had been seated in one of the prime positions. As she chatted amicably and enthusiastically to the people around her, every so often her light laughter would echo down the long tables, prompting other guests to look up and smile. Clara was aware when people looked at her. She could sense eyes watching her admiringly from afar, and she enjoyed it.
Afterwards, she made sure to dance with as many different men as possible around the giant ballroom.
“Will you come this weekend to stay at our country house?” asked a young aristocrat as he danced her around the floor.
“I’ve told you before I can’t. I’d love to but I can’t. Your country place is too far awayand I’ve got too many things to do this weekend.”
“But you promised me you would come,” the young man insisted.
“I promised you I would come some time, just not this weekend,” she pointed out to him as the music stopped. Then she smiled at him and quickly walked off the dance floor before he could trap her further. She walked to her seat where a glass of champagne was handed to her by a young captain from
the Yorkshire Regiment.
“Thank you, you’re a dear,” she said, smiling at him and sippingfrom the glass.
“Now remember, we’re going to the theatre on Tuesday night. Don’t forget,” said the captain.
“Darling, how could I forget, when you’ve reminded me umpteen times since I got here?” Clara said tolerantly.
She felt particularly restless that night. She wasn’t sure why, but as the people swarmed around her, she felt agitated. It was then that she saw him. He was standing at the other side of the ballroom. Impeccably dressed in a tuxedo and white bow tie, his brown hair slicked back, a cigarette perched on his lips. She didn’t know why he caught her eye. Maybe it was because he looked bored. Maybe it was because whenever she looked at somebody, she was used to finding them already looking at her. And he wasn’t, his eyes were gazing off somewhere, beyond the dancing couples that whirled past him.
“And perhaps before the theatre, we’ll go for something to eat,” suggested the captain.
“Yes, perhaps . . . who is that over there?” Clara discreetly indicated the man who had caught her attention.
The captain looked over and squinted as he studied the man. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him before.”
“Hmmm.” Clara turned to the man on the other side of her. “Tell me, who is that man standing by the pillar?”
“I don’t know. Do you want me to find out for you?”
“No, don’t bother!” She laughed lightly, picked up her champagne and drank it off. “This is divine. Did I tell you this story about the bridegroom and the champagne . . .” And as she continued to tell her story she spoke loudly, in a way calculated to attract the man’s attention. Her companions laughed loudly, but the man never looked over once.
Clara’s curiosity was burning brightly and she was delighted when she spotted the stranger talking to an acquaintance of hers, Edbert Bartley. She quickly made her excuses to her friends and walked with her usual confidence across the ballroom to the two men.