Her Irish Surrender

by Kit Morgan

“I see, well then I suppose I’ll be going in now.” He watched her for any sort of reaction. She gave him none. Besides, what was she supposed to do? No was no.

  Thankfully, he trotted up the stairs and into the house without another word. She sighed in relief, and went up herself.

  She decided to take a few minutes before dinner to delve into Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland to be more familiar with the story before reading it to Lorcan. She hadn’t the chance to look at the book the night before as Mr. Walker talked at the dinner table until it was time to retire, and seemed upset when someone tried to leave before he finished.

  She shook her head at the thought and entered the house. No one was about so she continued up the stairs to her room. She had just enough time to leaf through the book, and begin a letter to Aunt Pricilla to let her know what was happening. She was so engrossed with her thoughts she didn’t notice another note had been placed under her door. It wasn’t until she’d hung up her shawl and opened the book, that she saw it. “Oh no, not again.”

  She picked it up and began to read:

  Miss Dermont, would you do me the honor of dinner again tonight?”

  H. Walker

  Adaline groaned. He must have penned it and put it under her door earlier in the day. He couldn’t have written the note and placed it under the door between speaking with her on the porch steps and when she got to her room. Could he? Regardless, now she’d have to deal with him at dinner. She sighed. It wasn’t his fault he’d left the note, and had his invitation to go to church turned down moments before she read it. “Poor man,” she mumbled. She set the note aside, and returned to Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.

  And on the other side of her door, his ear pressed to the wood, stood Mr. Walker, listening for any sort of sound to come from his latest obsession.

  Seven

  Sunday dawned bright and clear. Adaline hurried to dress. The Van Cleets were probably already waiting at the foot of the stairs. They asked if she’d like to walk with them to church. Polly informed her that the Brodys were planning to attend, without Lorcan of course, and wanted the three to sit with them.

  This would be her first church service since her arrival, and she was glad she’d turned down Mr. Walker’s invitation. If he escorted her, people would assume they were courting, and that wasn’t the case. Besides, she’d feel more comfortable sitting with the Brodys and Van Cleets.

  She decided to wear one of her favorite dresses, a light plum-colored two-piece with bodice and bustle skirt. It was one of her favorites, and she loved the white lace trim that graced the collar. She hoped it wasn’t too cold outside, and couldn’t decide whether to wear her shawl or coat, when a knock sounded at the door. “Just a moment,” she called. It had to be one of the Van Cleets. Had she taken too long to dress?

  Adaline grabbed her shawl, and with a smile of anticipation, opened the door. Her smile faded. (Fell right off her face, if one got down to it.) Herbert Walker stood in front of her wearing a huge grin, another flower in his hand. Adaline sighed. “Good morning, Mr. Walker.”

  “Good morning, Miss Dermont. Are you ready?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “For church? You are going aren’t you?”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but realizing she didn’t have a reply said nothing. She looked at him, and raced over last evening’s conversation. Did she say she would not be accompanying him?

  “The others are waiting for us. We’d better hurry,” he told her with a bright smile.

  Adaline wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, stepped out into the hall and looked down the stairwell. The Van Cleets stood at the bottom of the stairs. Mr. Van Cleet waved when he saw her. She smiled a half-smile in return, before locking her door. An all too happy Herbert Walker grabbed her hand and placed it on his arm. She tried to pull away but he would have none of it. He held her to him like glue. “Mr. Walker,” she said sternly and gave her hand another tug.

  He looked at her, all innocence and then to the hand he held prisoner. “Is something wrong?”

  She sighed impatiently. “Kindly release me.”

  “But the stairs, what if you fall?”

  She fought the urge to roll her eyes, but did it anyway. “Mr. Walker, I am perfectly capable of going down the stairs on my own.”

  “Oh,” he said as if it was news to him. “Well, if you insist.” He released her hand.

  Adaline couldn’t get away from him fast enough, and hurried down the stairs. Mr. Van Cleet, gallant gentleman that he was, held his arm out before she reached the bottom. She took it, grateful for the timely rescue, and hung on for dear life. He smiled, winked, and held his other out to his wife. With a woman on each arm, Mr. Van Cleet left the house, but not before he looked to the top of the stairs. “Coming, Mr. Walker?”

  Mr. Walker’s jaw tightened before he smiled, and descended the stairs after them. Adaline heard him grumbled something as he caught up and began to walk a few paces behind, but soon paid him no mind. Let the man pout. She’d already told him she was otherwise engaged for the day. She supposed he figured if she was going to church any way, that he could still escort her. She glanced at Mr. Van Cleet. He caught her eye and smiled. “Bless you,” she whispered.

  “You’re welcome,” he said as they walked on.

  It wasn’t long before they reached the church and took their place in line to enter. Reverend Franklin greeted his flock one by one as they ascended the church steps, shaking hands and smiling. When it came their turn, the good reverend looked at Adaline before he searched the line of people behind her. “Hello, we meet again,” he said as his attention returned to her.

  “Good morning, sir,” she replied and wondered if he was looking for the Brodys.

  “Have you decided to stay on, Miss …?”

  “Dermont,” she told him. “And yes, I’ll be staying for a time.”

  Mr. Van Cleet unhooked her arm from his. “I think she’ll be here a long time, myself.” He gave the reverend an exaggerated wink, and ushered the women inside. Mr. Walker shook Reverend Franklin’s hand, and hurried after them.

  Once inside, Mr. Van Cleet settled them in a pew and glanced around. “I’m sure they’ll be along soon. Mrs. Brody is probably getting Lorcan settled before they leave.”

  A delightful chill went up Adaline’s spine at the mention of Lorcan, and her shoulders hunched in reaction.

  “Would you like my coat?” a voice asked from behind. “It is chilly in here.”

  Adaline froze. Oh no … She turned in the pew. “No, thank you,” she said as politely as possible. Did Herbert Walker have to sit right behind her? The thought made the hairs on the back of her neck rise, and she shuddered again, only this time, delight had no part in it.

  After another few moments, the Brodys arrived, and Adaline watched the Van Cleets scoot down the pew to make room for them. She realized she’d been seated at the end of the pew, and that thankfully, there’d been no room for Mr. Walker to plant himself beside her. She leaned forward and looked at Mr. Van Cleet, who gazed back at her, a sly smile on his face. She was now wedged between the two couples, and cringed when she noticed Herbert Walker slide down the pew to once again place himself behind her. A sickening knot formed in her stomach, and she did her best to ignore it as Reverend Franklin took to the pulpit.

  Mrs. Brody leaned over and whispered near Adaline’s ear. “He’s doing better this morning. He asked after you …”

  Adaline glanced at her, and tried to keep from smiling. She licked her lips and nodded in acknowledgment. Mrs. Brody looked at her and did enough smiling for the both of them, then patted Adaline’s hand. The knot in her stomach dissipated, and she felt herself relax.

  The service was simple; prayer, the singing of hymns, more prayer, updates on church members who had been ill or in need, a pleasant message on forgiveness, and finally a closing hymn followed by the closing prayer. The small congregation was much different from the huge assembly she’d attended in New
Orleans, and she found she liked the tiny church much better. The people were friendly, (with the exception of Herbert Walker, who was too friendly) and she was beginning to feel at home among the faces she already knew. Finn Mullany greeted her, introduced his parents, and asked after Lorcan.

  “He’s doing better, I’m told,” she said. “I’m going to see him later.”

  Finn’s eyes widened. “Are ye now? Well, that’s a good sign.”

  “Good sign of what?”

  He chuckled. “Lorcan is anything but friendly after he’s lost a fight. Moody too. But he gets over it soon enough. He’s mad at himself, more than anything else, and goes over the fight in his head until it hurts.”

  “Not this time,” Mrs. Brody interjected as she came to stand beside them. “Are ye ready, dearie? I know Lorcan’s looking forward to yer visit.”

  Adaline felt her hackles go up, and turned enough to see Mr. Walker standing a few feet behind her, listening to every word. He glanced at her, then feigned interest in a huge hat a woman next to him wore . “I’m glad to hear it. I’m looking forward to seeing him too.” She was about to turn her face away, and caught his disgruntled look as his head snapped around to her.

  Oh good Lord, she thought to herself. Should she tell someone about it? She didn’t have much experience with men, and wasn’t quite sure if his behavior was normal or not. She remembered Aunt Pricilla telling her tales of jealous men, not to mention a few women, and the idiotic things they were capable of. Herbert Walker wasn’t acting like an idiot, but he was acting in a strange manner, at least as far as she could tell.

  “Let’s go then, dearie. We’ll have lunch together, then ye can read to him,” Mrs. Brody said with a smile.

  Adaline forced herself to ignore Mr. Walker, and let Mrs. Brody take her hand and lead her from the church. They stopped and said their farewells to Reverend Franklin and his wife, then began the trek to the bookshop with the Van Cleets whom they also invited to lunch. When they had walked at least halfway back, she chanced a peek over her shoulder to see if Mr. Walker followed, but there was no sign of him. She breathed a sigh of relief, and continued on.

  “Now, I hope you don’t mind soup and biscuits,” Mrs. Brody said as they went up the stairs. “Lorcan has kept us pretty busy.”

  “No apologies are necessary, Mrs. Brody. We’re happy no matter what you serve.” Mr. Van Cleet chuckled. “Ah, might I have a moment with the boy?”

  “I don’t see why not, though he might be disappointed to see you instead of Miss Dermont here,” Mr. Brody said as he gave Adaline a wink and opened the door to their living quarters. She blushed as they filed in and went to the parlor.

  “Make yerselves at home,” Mrs. Brody insisted as she grabbed an apron off a peg near the kitchen. “I’ll have lunch ready in a moment.”

  Adaline and Mrs. Van Cleet seated themselves on a love seat, as Mr. Brody led Mr. Van Cleet down the hall to Lorcan’s room. Adaline clasped her hands tightly in her lap as she watched them go in.

  “Don’t you worry, he’ll recover,” Mrs. Van Cleet said.

  Adaline looked at her. “I know. It’s just that he looks so awful.”

  The older woman smiled. “Men do things we women think make no sense. But you can trust Lorcan. I know you can.”

  Adaline gave her a weak smile. “So I’m learning, Mrs. Van Cleet.”

  “Oh please, call me Polly, and you can call Mr. Van Cleet, Cyrus.” She straightened herself and smiled. “You could do a lot worse, than Lorcan Brody.”

  Adaline stared her. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Oh come now, dear. I’ve seen the look on your face when his name is mentioned. I know you’ve only been here a short time, but … well, you’ll give the man a chance, won’t you?”

  Adaline stared at her. “Mrs. Van Cleet … er … Polly, Lorcan Brody has given no sign that he wishes to court me.”

  She gave her a bemused look. “Trust me, it’s only a matter of time, child. And it would make Mr. and Mrs. Brody the happiest people on Earth if he were to marry you.”

  Adaline blushed a deep red.

  “You too, I think,” she added with a smile.

  The door to Lorcan’s room opened, and Adaline fought the urge to stand. Good Heavens! Was Polly right? Did she have feelings for Lorcan that others could see? She swallowed hard and waited as the men came into the parlor.

  Mr. Brody waved toward the hall. “He’s all yours, Miss Dermont.”

  * * *

  Lorcan lay upon the bed, his chest burning with anticipation. He still couldn’t see, and the doctor had come while his family was at church and examined him. He put cold compresses of witch hazel on his eyes, and wrapped a bandage around his head to hold them in place. He must look like the devil and he hoped the sight of him didn’t frighten poor Adaline. He’d dreamt of her, and thought she’d sat in his room with him all night, but his mother told him she’d gone home after spending but a few moments with him after work the day before. Though that may be true, he heard her voice through out the night …

  “Hello.”

  He smiled as best he could when she spoke. His jaw felt like the devil, his head worse, but he’d put up with the aches and pains as it beat the alternative. By rights he should be dead. In fact, it was a bloody miracle he still breathed at all.

  “Hello.” He listened as she approached the bed, pulled up a chair, and sat. She smelled of lilacs and some other flower he couldn’t quite pin point. All he knew was she carried a scent like Heaven.

  “What happened to your head?” she asked with concern.

  “Doc came by, put something on my eyes to help with the swelling, that’s all.”

  “I see, well, it doesn’t do anything for your appearance, just so you know …”

  He chuckled. “I seem to be at a disadvantage, you can see me, but I can’t see you.”

  She shifted in her chair, making it creak. “Nothing here to see, Mr. …”

  “Ah, ah, ahhh,” he scolded. “Lorcan.”

  “Lorcan. It’s just plain old me.”

  “Really? So tell me, plain old you. What are you wearing?”

  The chair creaked again. “What am I wearing? What sort of a question is that?”

  He laughed, then coughed. He knew better, but couldn’t help it. The laugher had slipped out unbidden. “Your perfume, lass. I like it.”

  “Oh, I see. Essence of lilac, I wear it on special …” the chair creaked again, “occasions.”

  He smiled. “Am I a special occasion, then?”

  Silence.

  “Or is it for someone else?” he asked.

  “Oh, no,” she said quickly. “I … I went to church services this morning.”

  The doctor had taken the bandages off his hands, and he fought the urge to reach out and touch her. Her voice was sweet, her presence intoxicating. What a fool he was! What was he thinking sending her on her way when they first met? He licked his dry lips and brought his hands together to still them.

  “Do you need some water?” she asked.

  Lorcan fought against a moan. Last night he’d been weak, hurting, but today was different, and he felt much better. Enough to want to take her in his arms and … he swallowed hard. “Aye,” he rasped.

  She got up, went to the dresser, and poured. His gut twisted as he listened to her return to the bed. “Can you sit up? I don’t know how I’ll give this to you otherwise.”

  Would he be a cad if he said no? But he had some strength today, and had better use it properly. He scooted himself back, and fought to get to a sitting position. His ribs didn’t hurt as bad as the night before, and he managed it, Adaline stepping over to help at the last moment. The feel of her hands on his shoulders almost did him in.

  “Are you dizzy?” she asked.

  He was, and had to hold onto her a moment to steady himself. “I’ll be alright. Just don’t move.”

  She stood and let him hold onto her as the dizzy spell passed, then gently brushed his hand with her own
, and let him feel for the glass. He drank by himself today, but wouldn’t have minded if she’d put the glass to his lips herself. “Thank you, Adaline. You make a fine nurse,” he managed before another bout of dizziness took him.

  He lurched to the side and she caught him, her arms locked around his shoulders to keep him from falling off the bed. “Oh, Heavens! Should I call for your father?”

  “No, I’ll be fine, help me to lie down, will you?”

  She did, and he fought against the sting of regret he felt when she released him to his pillows. “Are you sure you don’t want me to fetch your folks?”

  He shook his head. Lord, but he wished he could see her. The rustle of her dress made him think of her small waist, the allure of the curls that framed her face … if he had any sense at all he’d toss his pride out the window and ask her to marry him. After all, it’s why she was there in the first place. He was about to say something to that effect, and then wouldn’t you know it, everything went black.

  * * *

  “Lorcan?” Adaline noticed he’d gone suddenly still, his face (what she could see of it) paler now. “Lorcan?” she asked again and gave his shoulder a shake. “Mr. Brody!”

  She’d taken but two steps to the door when Lorcan’s father burst into the room. He took one look at his son and rushed to the bed. “Lorcan, lad! Speak to me!”

  “What’s this?” Mrs. Brody exclaimed as she came into the room and went to her husband’s side. “Adaline, what happened?”

  “He was dizzy. I gave him some water, and after he lay back down, nothing. Did he faint?”

  “Aye, he’s fainted, don’t worry your heart over him now.” Mr. Brody said as he patted his son’s hand. “Mrs. Brody, take Adaline to the parlor, give her some lunch.”

  “Mr. Brody?” His wife’s voice was laced with concern when she spoke.

  He looked at her. Off with ye know, and send in Mr. Van Cleet.”

  The women hurried to comply and left the room. Adaline flew into Polly’s arms as her husband trotted down the hall. He went into Lorcan’s room, and after a moment came out, grabbed his hat and coat, and hurried out the door.