by Mary Wood
The whip came down for a third time, but mercifully Andrew rolled out of its way. He lifted his hand towards the saddlebag of his horse, but whatever he thought to find had gone. Bridie saw the barrel of it glinting on the ground behind Seamus. She flung herself at it and aimed it at his back. She cocked it ready, something she’d learned to do from Seamus himself, in another life. His body stilled. He sucked in his breath, and his anger switched from Andrew to her. ‘Put that down, now, Bridie. ’Tis your man you should stand up for, as he tries to defend your honour.’
‘You are not for being my man. Seamus, what is it that makes you think you are, and can interfere with me life? You have no claim on me, and if you are not for putting that whip down, I will shoot you and think nothing of doing so, for you are not the man I knew. You’re evil, so you are, and even your grandmother – were she here today – would urge me to pull the trigger.’
Seamus turned to face her. Sweat ran down his face. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he said, ‘You are mine, and one day I will have you. Whore that you are, I have to have you – and soon, Bridie, soon.’ He stayed still for a moment longer, the space between them a bridge that neither could cross. ‘I’ll be back, so I will.’
She watched, crushed by the silence he’d left behind him, until he disappeared into the thicket.
‘Oh, Andrew, Andrew, ’tis sorry I am. Oh, sweet Jesus, look at you . . .’
Andrew lay on his stomach. The jagged weals gouged into his back glistened under the sun. His voice leaked pain as he begged of her, ‘Help me, Bridie. Help me.’
‘I will, Andrew. Lie still whilst I put on me clothes, and I’ll do what I can for you.’
‘There’s w-w-whisky in the saddlebag. Use th-that to bathe my back.’
Fear for Andrew shivered through her. He’d taken a good swig of the whisky and, though she was tempted to do the same, she was stopped by the need to do what she could for him. Soaking his shirt with the golden liquid, she dabbed the sickening gashes. Andrew hollered out his agony as she worked.
‘Oh, Andrew, I am for being as gentle as I can. Should I fetch somebody, tell them I found you like this?’
‘No, no, help me get my trousers on.’
Once she had done this, he edged his way back into the shadow of the trees, his voice trembling as he said, ‘Look, I’m sorry about the situation I have put you in, but thank you for saving me. I believe he would have whipped me to death. What is the hold he has on you? No . . . leave that for now. We have to think how we can explain this.’
Bridie sat down beside him. ‘Maybe you should put your shirt back on. The alcohol on it will ward off infection, so it will.’
He took it from her and shuddered his body into it. She could see his muscles trembling, and feared for him.
‘’Tis shock as is taking you. You have to get home and get the doctor, for ’tis that you could take with the sweating sickness. I have seen it in the old days in Ireland, when men were injured and me pappy brought them to our house.’
‘Yes. I can’t seem to s-s-stop my limbs sh-shaking.’
‘Will you be able to ride your horse? I’m for thinking you should go home. Tell them you were thrown off of it when Seamus stepped out in front of you. That it reared, like it was for doing that first day I saw you. And say as Seamus reacted by whipping you. He is known for the temper on him, so he is.’
‘Yes, I . . . I think something like that will cut it. T-t-t-tell no one, Bridie. I’ll be in t-t-t-touch.’
She helped him over to the boulder, and he sat there while she brought over his horse. Somehow they managed to get him into the saddle by using the boulder as a stepping stone. As he left she leaned over the boulder and touched her child’s name, which was now barely discernible. She let the tears she’d held back run over her hot cheeks. ‘’Tis bad that your mammy is, Eric,’ she whispered. ‘But don’t be for letting that stop you praying for your pappy, for he is a good man and I am not for being worthy of him.’ Brushing away her tears, she started to walk down the hill.
Shame wasn’t often her companion when it came to taking a man to her, but now it ground into every pore of her. She had betrayed her Will, and caused Seamus to attack Andrew. Something in her wished she had pulled the trigger. It would have been a good day to see the death of Seamus, for hadn’t he turned into the Devil? And didn’t he put the fear into her, with what she knew him capable of, and with him saying she belonged to him?
Hearing the horse snort, she turned around. Mr Harvey was making his way down in the opposite direction from her, where the hill slanted in a more gentle descent. She hoped his horse would stay sure-footed. Tarrington House lay in that direction. She was glad he’d thought to go to his mammy; she would know what to do for him. Not that Mrs Harvey wouldn’t, but it would be a powerful thing for Andrew to face her so soon and have to cover for what he’d done, as well as lie about what had happened to him.
This thought compounded her own deceit, and she hoped with all that was in her that Will would still be asleep when she got in. For it might be that he would know, and she couldn’t bear for him to be hurt by her actions. She had meant to keep her promise to him: that once they’d escaped Bruiser’s clutches, no man would ever lie with her whilst he had breath in his body.
Breath in his body . . . She sank down onto the grass as if someone had punched her. Her insides splintered. Breath was the one thing her Will didn’t have. His lungs, clogged with filth, no longer gave him the air he needed to live. Oh, her Will . . . her Will . . .
25
Bridie and Andrew
Consequences
Exhaustion dragged at every part of Bridie, and she didn’t know how she would make it home. The thicket loomed in front of her, its shadowy paths holding a menace. The only alternative took her miles out of her way. She had to go through it. Fear fuelled her, helping her to move faster. Branches clutched at her hair, claiming strands of it for their own. Thorn bushes scratched her skin and tore her skirt as she stumbled in desperation to get to the open meadow beyond. Her heart thudded, and her breath came in short, painful gasps. She stopped a moment, trying to tap into the last reserves of her strength. The edge of the thicket, where the trees opened up to a wider path and into the open field, came into view, teasing her.
A twig snapped. Her skin crawled with trepidation, and the blood in her body chilled. Seamus stepped out in front of her. She shrank back, but he grabbed her arm.
‘Seamus, don’t . . . Let me go, Seamus.’ His silence unnerved her, and his face, set in anger, gave her no indication of his intention. The shock of everything had drained the last ounce of her strength. She could do nothing. The glow of his campfire flickered ahead. His horse neighed, shook its mane and tapped the ground with its hoof, unnerved by her cries and by its master’s mood. The Vardo that she’d loved, in all its painted glory, now held nothing but menace. Her pleas to Seamus to let her go went unheeded.
A vicious shove sent her reeling towards the flames. Its heat seared her body as she hit the ground next to it. Temper rose in her. She scrambled away from the fire and sat up. ‘What is it you think you are doing, you bastard! I’m going home, Seamus, and you are not stopping me.’
Pushing her back down with his foot, his anger spat from him. ‘You ask what happened to change me. Me! What, for the love of God, changed you, Bridie?’
‘We have been after going over this, Seamus.’
‘Aye, that’s true, but didn’t you say you had mended your ways? I could live with that. You, married to a decent man, having a family – that’s the natural way of things. Then, with your man ailing, it seemed I only had to bide me time. When I saw you running up the hill and, a few minutes later, that high-’n’-mighty Mr Harvey making his way up after you, I took it on meself to make sure you were all right. And what did I find? You letting him fuck you. Enjoying it, begging for more. For sure, it was more than a man could take.’ He slumped down onto his stool. His hands held his head as despair oozed from his every pore.
‘How is it you can put yourself on such a pedestal? Are you not for thinking I wouldn’t want the new you: the bastard that extorts money out of his own countrymen, keeps them in fear and takes their little ones away from them?’
‘Bridie, you do want me. You want me, like I want you. ’Tis a burning need set up in us when we were children. I have kept true to the traveller code and not taken you out of wedlock, but you have tried me too far now. This is the way it is going to be. I have a plan as will get back at that bastard and be for giving us the life I want.’ His voice steadied as he told her what he intended. ‘’Tis as we need funds, for we can’t be at making enough for us both to live where I intend to take you. There will be none of the dealings I have here, as ’tis a remote place in the south of Ireland . . .’
‘Will you listen to yourself? Seamus, is it celibate you are telling me you have been? But then, ’tis not for making a difference, for I am not for going anywhere with you . . .’
‘A woman does not ask a man about his ways. ’Tis enough that I haven’t taken you down, and meant to keep you that way until I married you, but you are for going too far, Bridie. And you will come with me, or you will see me put your man out of his misery before his time.’
‘Seamus, no! What is it you are saying?’
‘Just that. You do as I say or your man, his mammy and your wee one will—’
‘No! Seamus, you have evil in you. Your granny would turn in the grave she must surely be in, if she could hear you. And anyway, ’tis you are forgetting you just attacked the master of this whole estate. He will get the law on you this very night, so he will!’
‘I am for doubting that, with what I saw. And if he does, Bridie, you will stand as me witness. You will say he came up on you and raped you, and I was for only trying to save you.’
‘Never . . .’
He stood up and bent over her. She couldn’t speak. Her heart screamed out at what she saw, deep in his coal-black eyes. The fear that gripped her weakened her as she stared at him. His words bounced off her. ‘Oh, you will, for I have a man ready to do my every bidding. He carried out some of the worst torture imaginable on traitors to the Fenians. He knew the truth of me story. If your pappy had not sent himself to the Devil, I had this man ready to send him there on a slow, agonizing journey. And that is what I will tell him to do to your man and your wee one, if you betray me in any way.’
Tears burned the sockets of her eyes. ‘Please, Seamus. Have you forgotten who it is you are threatening?’
‘No, it’s seared into me soul with pain – the pain you have caused me. You have brought me to this place in your life. I have come to the point of no return with you. Now, listen to the plans I have for us. Tonight I’ll be carrying out something that has been a long time in the planning: I’ll break into the Harveys’ place. They have a stash of money and jewels that will keep us going for the rest of our lives, and I know exactly where it is and how to get around the house. One of me little Irish lasses works there, and she has given me all the information I need. You, Bridie, are to meet me at the stile on the stroke of three. I will have everything ready and we will away into the night. I have a man waiting to take us across to Ireland in a few days’ time. Not my usual route, so no one will know where we are.’
‘No, Seamus. I am telling you, I am not going with you.’
‘I have been after giving you the consequences for your family, if you don’t. I will leave the decision to you. Now, away out of me sight. But, Bridie, in case it hasn’t sunk in, let me tell you in more detail what will be happening if you let me down. Before your man goes to his maker, with you having watched him suffer all the torture he can endure and with your wee one tied to her bed, Paddy – the man I told you of – will take a torch to your house. And so it will be that the end of us both will happen, Bridie. Only yours will be slower. For if they are after catching me, I will take the rope they put round me neck and fall hard, so it is over in an instant. Me man will bar your exits, so even if you escape the ropes he ties you in, you and yours will burn. You will see the skin peel off your man and child, and feel the heat stripping your own from your flesh. You will scream and writhe and beg, but hell will have come to meet you.’
The tears she’d held back dripped over the rims of her eyes. ‘Seamus . . .’ His name sobbed from her, but his stance did not change. Realization came to her: he meant every word. Despair slumped her body.
‘Come on, me little Bridie. I can see you have the knowledge in you of what you must do, and that is good.’ She took the hand he offered her and, with his help, got to her feet. He pulled her close to his body. His mouth brushed hers, and his breath fanned her face with his words, ‘We will seal our deal with a kiss, me Bridie.’
She tried to turn her head, but the movement seared pain through her. He had coiled her hair around his hand.
‘I’ll not fight for what you give willingly to others and yet belongs to me.’ His lips pressed hard on hers, bruising them against her teeth. His mouth opened, softening the pressure, and his tongue prised her lips apart. She had an urge to bite down on it until her teeth cut through it, but visions of her Bridget and Will crying out in agony stopped her. Instead she yielded to him. He shocked her by not going further. As he came out of the kiss, his smile mocked her.
Every rut caused Andrew’s wounds to throb, and shivers trembled through him. As if he knew, Goldboy took on a steady, slow pace, picking his way over the rough terrain. Through the mist brought down by his pain, Andrew saw his mother’s house in the distance.
He’d never been so glad in his life to see his old home, but the usual comfort he experienced when coming up to his birthplace had deserted him. Through his agony he had to think and take steps to come up with some credible story, but everything he thought of had more ways to show his lies than a sieve had holes.
He rode into the stable yard. Peter, his mother’s groom, came out to meet him. ‘Sir, what happened to you? Have you taken a fall? Here, steady on, I’ve got you . . . Whoa, Goldboy, hold still.’
Andrew allowed Peter to manhandle him out of the saddle. He had no choice but to do so, as his body had given up on him and the ground seemed to come up to meet him. ‘H-h-h-help me into the stable, Peter.’
‘Shouldn’t I help you into the house, sir? You’re in a bad way. What happened?’
‘No, n-not yet.’
Peter helped him to a bale of hay and sat him down. ‘What can I do for you, sir?’
‘Help me off with my jacket . . .’
‘God Almighty, there’s blood.’
‘Use some clean water to wet m-my shirt. It has s-stuck to me.’
The icy water made Andrew wince as a stinging sensation shivered through him. He fought not to cry out, and bit his lip in the effort it took.
‘Who in Heaven’s name did this to you, sir?’
‘I don’t know . . . I went up to the stream. I was going to sw-swim . . . The first l-lash took me to my knees. The second one sent m-me head-first into the water. By the time I righted myself, he was gone!’
‘Look, I have to go and get someone. You need the doctor. You’re in shock. I’ll not be long, sir.’
This time Andrew allowed Peter to go. At last he’d thought of something that held a modicum of truth to it. Peter hadn’t questioned it. Thank God he’d thought of a robbery and had thrown his wallet away, and his flask. It was the finer details of how someone had whipped him with no shirt on that hadn’t occurred to him before. He’d left the hunting gun he always took with him when riding where Bridie had thrown it. Someone might find that eventually, but if they did he’d say the robber probably discarded it, as it had his initials on it and would be difficult to dispose of. No one would find his other possessions; he’d thrown them into the undergrowth. They had fallen amongst the brambles growing on the hillside in a thick, impenetrable mass. He’d tell Peter to burn his shirt when he came back. That way no one would smell the whisky and disbelieve his story about the missing
silver flask.
His head hurt from working things through. His body wouldn’t hold him, and sweat poured from him – yet he felt cold.
‘Andrew! Andrew, darling! Oh, my darling . . . Peter, fetch Granger, and send the boy who does the fires to Dr Payne. Oh, God! Andrew! Peter, send someone over to fetch his wife. Oh, why did Agatha move down to London?’
His mother’s voice sounded as if she was standing at the end of a long tunnel shouting at him. It faded, came back at him, then was gone, and he felt himself sinking. He didn’t want to resist. He let the envelope of darkness fold over him.
‘Bridie?’
The whisper came from behind her. Shrouded as she was by the oppressive black night, every noise heightened her fear. The church clock had struck three ten minutes since, and still she had stood there by the stile, unable to penetrate the gloom. ‘Seamus?’
‘Aye, ’tis me. Come on, climb over. Hold your skirt; don’t be tripping over it. I daren’t light the lamp. Someone woke at the house, and I had to make an escape as they were for smooching around. But I have what I went for, and I’m here now.’
Her heart clanged her despair. She’d hoped, with everything in her, that Seamus wouldn’t turn up. He tried to take her hand, but she wouldn’t let him. ‘What is it you have there, Bridie?’
‘Just me clothes and a few bits.’ Please, Bridget, don’t be after waking up!
‘It looks like a powerful big bundle. You won’t be needing it. Dump it here – ’tis slowing you up, so it is.’
‘No, and if you’re for making me, I’ll scream and scream and take me consequences.’
‘You’ve not lost your spirit, Bridie, I’ll give you that. Give it to me. We must hurry. Paddy is for having me Vardo tethered on the road, and we’ve to cross the field and get through the thicket to get to it. I’m feared they may discover evidence of me entrance and raise the alarm. I need time to get us a few miles away.’ Grabbing the bundle from her without knowing what it contained, he stopped and stared at her as realization dawned. ‘No! ’Tis your wee one! Wasn’t I after telling you . . .’