“A very bright child.”
“I want to understand what happened to Emerald. Jem tells me that my child had been abused.” Edward was having a great deal of difficulty processing all of the information he’d been given today. He kept hoping to discover that what these people were telling him was untrue. He couldn’t bear to think of his child in danger. How could everything change in such a short space of time? He had his daughter back in his life – everything he’d believed for so long was a lie.
“She was,” Ivy said. “I removed Emerald’s clothes when Jem rescued her from her aunt’s evil clutches.” It was easy to think of the sad little child she’d first met as Emerald. The wild child that ran around The Lane with a permanent smile was Emmy. “The clothes she wore were made for a much younger child and were difficult to remove.” Ivy wanted him to understand what Emerald had been subjected to. She needed this man to appreciate why Jem had decided to take the law into his own hands. “Her back was covered in fresh and ageing lash marks. Her toes and heels were bleeding from being forced to wear boots much too small for her growing feet.”
“I killed my aunt, Papa,” Emmy whispered.
“What!”
“Shhh, love.” Jem leaned forward and brushed his hand over her hair. “You did no such thing.”
“I believe I need to hear this story again.” Edward accepted the glass Ann Marie passed him. He gulped the liquid without stopping to notice what it was he was drinking.
“Would you like to go down to the kitchen, Emerald?” Ann Marie didn’t think the child should be present.
“No!” Emmy jumped from her father’s arms and onto Jem’s lap. “You’ll go away and leave me, Uncle Jem! I don’t want you to leave me.”
“Emerald, this is none of your concern.” Edward felt almost betrayed by his daughter’s desertion.
“On the contrary,” Jem said softly, “this concerns her more than any other.”
Ann Marie felt a twinge of sympathy for Edward O’Connor. Her parents had been considered liberal but the freedom that Emmy enjoyed was outside of her experience too. They had never run wild without adult supervision.
“We are getting off track.” Jem pressed the trembling little girl to his chest. The story he was about to tell was nothing new to her. She had lived through it. “Let me tell you in more detail of my own part in our present circumstances.”
Ivy felt her heart swell with pride as her future husband faced down the toff glaring at him.
“In the first weeks of last year I was sitting waiting for a fare outside Kingsbridge train station . . .”
Jem told of his first impression of Mary Rose Donnelly and the child she had persecuted. There was no other sound but his voice as he took them through his first dealings with the woman and child. Jem winced to remember the woman’s abusive tone to the poor child. When she’d ordered him to take her to Goldenbridge his heart had almost stopped.
“I knew old Rosie would only take minutes to trot from Kingsbridge to Goldenbridge.” He looked around at his fascinated audience. “I decided to take the long way around. I was hoping to think of some way to help the little girl.” He shook his head. “There was nothing I could do but it didn’t sit right just to deliver the child to Goldenbridge trade school. The place doesn’t have the best of reputations around Dublin.” He paused and looked at Edward. “If Miss Donnelly had remained sitting in the cab the accident would never have happened.”
“She was never a woman to sit back and wait,” Edward said when Jem seemed to be struggling.
“We were passing Kilmainham Gaol – there was some kind of protest going on – anyhow,” he pushed his fingers through his hair, “yer woman almost crawled out of the cab shouting abuse and instructions. A stone thrown by someone in the crowd hit her head. I had my hands full trying to control the horse.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ll remember the sound that stone made when it connected with her forehead for the rest of my days. Emmy managed somehow to pull the woman back into the cab and I got us out of there.”
“You were helping me, Uncle Jem.” Emmy tightened her arms around his neck.
Jem noticed her eyelids were beginning to droop. Despite all the tension, she would soon be asleep.
“I didn’t know what to do.” He pressed a kiss into Emmy’s hair and continued. “I drove around for what felt like days, trying to think of a way to protect the little girl who had stolen my heart.”
“My daughter was in the cab with a dead woman!” Edward, without taking his eyes from Jem, passed his empty glass to Ann Marie for a refill.
“No, of course not!” Jem patted the sleepy child’s back, trying to calm his nerves. “I stopped as soon as I had cleared the crowd and took the little one up on the driver’s seat with me.”
“You –” Edward took the freshened drink from Ann Marie.
“Will yeh let him tell the story!” Ivy snapped. “This isn’t easy for him.”
“I went to ask Ivy for help.” Jem looked down at the little girl. A soft snoring snuffle assured him she was out of it, thank God. She didn’t need to hear all of this. He continued telling the story of their disposal of the dead woman and his decision to claim Emerald O’Connor as his niece Emmy Ryan.
“You have reason to believe that the woman’s remains would not have been buried?” Edward thought his voice sounded far calmer than it had any right to be. He was shocked to the roots of his hair by the plans the woman had made for his only child.
“Mary Rose Donnelly was what we would call a horse of a woman.” Jem remembered trying to move the woman who had been almost as big around as she was tall. He’d pushed the body in a wheelbarrow the short distance between The Lane and the place where he knew the ‘death wagon’ would be. He’d been relieved to get rid of the body. He had flashed Ivy’s father’s death certificate at the men but, as he had known they would, they’d paid no attention to the document. “My uncle and I used to drive one of our wagons around the city picking up the dead.” He shivered at the thought. He’d been glad to get rid of that part of the business as soon as his uncle died. The grisly nightly ride through the dark streets picking up the dead, people who couldn’t afford a decent burial, still haunted him. “I believe the men who took over that job will have sold the body for study. You don’t often see a well-fed body on that round.”
Edward gulped his drink, unsure of what to say or do. If the woman had succeeded with her plans he would never have known what happened to his Emerald. His child would have been lost to him forever.
“It is a great deal for you to take in, Edward.” Ann Marie had joined him on the two-seater settee. She pressed her shoulder against his in silent support.
“While I grieved and wandered the world my daughter was living in a stable.” Edward stared at the sleeping child.
“Jesus Christ was born in a stable,” Ivy snapped. “If it was good enough for him it’s good enough for anyone.”
“I mean no discourtesy,” Edward offered.
“I did what I did to protect the child.” Jem didn’t think it would be a good idea to say he’d do it again in a heartbeat. “Emmy has been with me from that moment to this.” He longed to ask this man his plans for the little girl he loved. Did he have that right? Emmy gave a soft little snore, almost breaking his control.
“You have been placed in a dreadful position, Edward,” Ann Marie said softly into the uncomfortable silence that had fallen over the group. They could not remain seated staring at each other with distrust. “But it is getting very late, well past Emerald’s bedtime. Would you consider leaving your child with Mr Ryan while you make arrangements?”
“But . . .” He couldn’t let his daughter return to a stable for heaven’s sake!
“It must be obvious to you that your child has come to no harm in Jem’s care. Quite the contrary.” Ann Marie understood his concern but she knew Emmy loved her life.
“Emerald is old enough to attend boarding school,” Edward mused aloud.
Jem bit back the ‘No’ that wanted to explode from behind his teeth.
“You do not need to make plans at this moment,” Ann Marie broke in before her two friends could give their opinion of that idea. She had seen the shock on their faces. “You can’t have made any plans yet for Emerald’s care?”
“The Shelbourne offers trained staff.” He had asked after he discovered Emerald. It would not be difficult to find a member of staff willing to sit with the child.
Jem and Ivy remained silent, each praying that Ann Marie could make the man see sense. They appeared to speak the same language.
“Why not leave the situation as it stands?” Ann Marie waved at the child sleeping so trustingly against Jem’s chest. “You can see for yourself that your child is in the best of hands. It may not be what you or I would consider ideal but I believe Emerald will thank you for not removing her abruptly from people she loves. You will then be free to take time to consider the ramifications of this situation.” The poor man had received so many shocks in such a short space of time. She intended to offer him her assistance. She planned to be by his side to help in any way she could. Time enough to mention that.
“I do have a great deal of thinking to do.” Edward had never been totally satisfied with the life he led but this day’s happenings seemed to have completely knocked his world off its axis.
“Ivy and I will guard your child with our lives,” Jem said.
“That is not the point.” Edward hoped no-one asked him what the point was. He simply did not know. Was leaving his child with these strangers really any different than leaving her with staff? “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be ungracious. Perhaps it would be best for Emerald to remain in your care while I return to my club.”
Ann Marie stood up. “Take Ivy and Emmy home, Jem,” she said. She didn’t want Edward to change his mind. “Edward and I will have another drink and chat.”
Chapter 38
“Is this not one of your days for the market?” Jem called when he noticed Ivy making her way towards him. He was keeping an eye on the last of his street carriages pulling out.
“If this keeps up, Jem, I’m going to have to make two of meself.” Ivy strolled over to join him.
“Where are you off to then?”
“I told you last night.” She couldn’t blame him for forgetting. There was so much going on. “I’m meeting Betty Armstrong at that lawyer friend of Ann Marie’s. We are going to draw up papers about this business deal yer woman Betty thinks is going to make us rich as kings.”
“Jesus, Ivy, I’ll be able to say I knew you when you hadn’t a sole on your shoes.”
“I wouldn’t be holding me breath for that if I were you.” She tightened her grip on her handbag, came up on her toes and gave him a buss on the cheek for luck. “I’m off. I’ll see you later.”
“Mr Flint sent me to fetch yeh.”
Jem felt the hair rise on the back of his neck at those softly spoken words. He turned to stare into the eyes of a hulking mountain of a man. He knew who he was. He’d seen him around town. He was Flint’s enforcer.
“What does Flint want with me?” Jem was only now starting to breathe easier after his meeting with O’Connor. Ann Marie was keeping the man busy while Emmy went on with her life as usual. That would change, he knew, but in the meantime he’d been enjoying having his life back.
“You don’t ask Mr Flint what he wants. You just give it to him.” A tap to his shoulder that felt like being hit by cement underlined the sentiment.
“I’ll get my coat.” He’d go see the man but he was going to make sure John Lawless knew where he was going.
“Information, as I’m sure you are aware, is my stock in trade.” William Armstrong aka Billy Flint stared across his desk, in his Baggot Street house, at the man who would marry his niece. He had investigated this man and been impressed with his vision and ambition.
“You do have something of a reputation.”
“I hear tell you plan to marry my niece.” William thought there was no point hiding the connection. The man in front of him had driven Ivy to his Merrion Square home after all.
“I didn’t know you had a niece.” Jem glared. This man had refused to acknowledge Ivy when she had nothing. It was a bit late now to step in and play the concerned uncle.
“Let’s not play these games.” William refused to apologise for his actions. “It has come to my attention that you have been making enquiries around town.”
“I’m naturally curious.” Jem hadn’t a clue what the man was talking about. He’d wait to see where this conversation was going.
“I’m given to understand that your line of enquiry is about the kind of conversation that usually takes place between a father and his spotty-faced youngster.” William Armstrong wasn’t enjoying this conversation. “I’ve had this talk with both my sons.” He intended to be a part of Ivy’s wedding celebration. He was going to use Ivy to establish a relationship with the socially prominent, wealthy and much-admired Miss Ann Marie Gannon. The man seen escorting Miss Gannon around Dublin was some class of a titled gent from Galway. William wanted an introduction.
Jem squirmed in one of the two leather chairs sitting before the desk. They were in a room that had been described to him as Billy Flint’s office.
“I can help you out there, Jem Ryan.” William was disgusted at his own cowardice. He needed to get this done. “I’ve heard good reports of you through the years. I’ve been impressed with the changes you’re making in your life. You just might be good enough to marry my niece.”
Jem didn’t say a word. He was angry hearing this man claim a relationship to Ivy. Where the hell was he when Ivy was being treated like a slave by her own family? He had more sense than to state his opinion aloud. He could never forget the reputation this man had earned.
“I can’t believe how fucking hard this is.” Armstrong opened a desk drawer. He removed an item and almost flung whatever it was across the desk in Jem’s direction.
Jem grabbed at the object before it fell on the floor at his feet.
“That’s called an English Hat or a French Letter or a load of other names.” William Armstrong could feel the heat burning his face. He was fucking blushing like a callow youth. When he’d heard this man had been asking the apothecary for a means to control the number of children he might breed, he’d been impressed. He’d thought it would be a simple matter to supply the answer to the man’s questions. He wanted an invitation to the wedding and this seemed a good way of going about it. “The important thing is – it will prevent pregnancy if used properly.”
“What!” Jem felt his jaw drop. He’d suffered true mortification as he’d tried to discover how to avoid Ivy becoming pregnant in the marriage bed but this was the last straw.
“Look,” Armstrong pointed his finger at Jem, “this kind of thing is usually discussed when you are drunk as a skunk and can indulge in nudge, nudge, wink, wink, but it’s too fucking important to be messing around with.” He shoved back his chair and stood. “I don’t care how early it is, I need a strong drink – you want one?”
Jem wondered if it would be rude to ask for the bottle. “Yes.”
There was silence in the room until Armstrong returned with two well-filled crystal glasses of whiskey. He passed one to Jem before sitting down again.
“I know which one of you decided to marry before a judge.” Armstrong found he couldn’t meet the other man’s eyes. “I know more about the parish priest than I want to. Better men than I have tried and failed to get that man removed from his position.” His teeth snapped closed. “If you are man enough to listen to your woman’s opinion, you are man enough to control your own body.”
“Tell me about this.” Jem had unrolled the heavy thick rubber item Armstrong had thrown at him. He crossed his legs in reaction to the shape of the thing. “The two of us can’t sit here all morning blushing like virgins. I don’t want Ivy to be pregnant every ten months.” He gulped the whiskey unti
l the glass was empty. He put the empty glass on the desk.
“That thing,” Armstrong turned the bottom of his own glass up before meeting Jem’s eyes, “will interfere with your pleasure.” He passed over a pamphlet with instructions on the care and use of an article that had been constructed for the troops going to war. “You have to be extra careful that no cracks develop in the rubber – if that happens Ivy will be pregnant. Come to me when you think you need a new one.”
“Right.” Jem raised his hip and shoved the precious rubber item and instructions deep into the pocket of his work trousers. “I thank you for this but you’re not known as a man who does something for nothing. What do you want?”
“An invitation to the wedding.”
“Talk to Ivy.” Jem almost felt his jaw drop. This was all about an invitation to a registry-office ceremony? He didn’t think so.
“I want to arrange the ceremony.” William had no intention of attending a little hole-in-the-wall affair. “I have a friend who is willing to marry you in his chambers.”
“Talk to Ivy.” Jem stood. He was ready to leave. He wasn’t getting in the middle of these two strong-willed people. He’d end up battered and bruised.
“Are you a man or a mouse?” Armstrong stood too.
“A smart man. Talk to Ivy.” Jem wouldn’t take offense. He started walking towards the door. “It’s up to her.”
“I’ll do that.” He’d just have to find the best way to convince her to let him and Betty take control of the ceremony. He walked to his office door. “I hope you’ve had Old Man Solomon make you a suit for the wedding?” Armstrong too wanted to put this room and this conversation behind him. “That old man is a master tailor. You lot in The Lane don’t know how lucky you are to have him.”
The Ha'Penny Place (Ivy Rose Series Book 3) Page 20