I read the papers, Henry. Im aware of the political climate in Ireland.
Well, let me give you a better account of it, just to be certain. We used to have a good life here. A prosperous life, a life that my father blessed us with when we married. I was happy to take over the enterprises in Ireland. But now, we live here inin exile.
Thats not true, Henry.
Oh, no? When the troubles started, my brother and father didnt hesitate to sell anything that might fetch a good price. They left me with the mills and the mines they couldnt get rid of. Let Henry have them, he muttered. Hell be grateful for that much.
Edwards father stood and walked over to the whiskey decanter, then poured himself a drink. He took a long swallow, then turned back to his mother. Now that this country belongs to the Irish again, our property is worth only what an idiot Irishman might pay for it. Were trapped here, Geneva, with no way out.
The uprising was put down. The civil war is over, Geneva said. You employ hundreds of Irish workers who want to work. I cant see how were headed for ruin, Henry.
I served in parliament, I helped run this country. And now, suddenly I have no say in how this government treats my interests. Thats decided by the Irish now and their damned Diál Eireann. And with them in charge, this country is doomed to fail.
Irish, British, free state, republic, Catholic, Protestant, what does it all matter? We have a home and you have a livelihood. You make a comfortable living. Youre a smart man, you can make what you have a success. The terrible times are ended. We have two sons and we must make the best of it.
Edward peeked into the library and watched as his father stared into his glass. The terrible times have only just begun, Geneva, he muttered. As long as Ulster is under control of the British, the people in this country will never rest. Another civil war is just around the corner.
Then perhaps we should stop thinking of ourselves as English and consider ourselves Irish. Weve lived here through all the troubles, for nearly fifteen years. Our future is here. This is our home and we are not visitors in this country.
You are mad, Henry muttered.
Geneva shook her head, her voice quivering. II am not mad. You live in your world of comfort and wealth, you employ these people in your mills and mines and take advantage of them every day. But you never look at them, you never see them. Theyre good people. They survive on nothing, trying to support their families on pay that isnt enough for one, much less seven or eight.
And you live in the same world with me, he said, his voice angry and accusing. My money buys those beautiful gowns you wear and pays for your trips to London and for your spiritualists and fortune tellers. Edwards mother gasped. What? You didnt think I knew about them? Those charlatans preying on your grief. He cursed, then sat down behind his desk.
Everyone in the family had changed since Charlottes death, Edward thought. Malcolm had become mean and nasty, deliberately inflicting pain on his younger brother whenever he could. His father stayed away from home as much as he could and when he was home he was cold and unapproachable and often drunk. And his mother Edward drew a ragged breath. Some days she was just like she used to be, happy and lighthearted, laughing at the silly stories he told. And other days, she wouldnt come out of her room, caught up in the midst of one of her black moods.
We cannot keep her or her daughter in this house, he said. I wont have it.
Shes worked as a domestic before and she claims to be an excellent seamstress.
Lets be candid with each other, shall we, Geneva? You dont need a seamstress. You want that child.
Edward watched as his mothers face grew pale. She slowly rose, her hands clutched in front of her. Why cant you do this one thing for me? she asked in a strangled voice. Just let me have what I need. I will make my way through this, I promise. But I have to deal with this in my own way.
This child is not yours, he warned. And if I see you becoming too attached, I will force them out of this house. And if I see any strange behavior from you, then you will return to the hospital until you are able to comport yourself in a proper manner. Is that understood, Geneva?
His mother nodded. Yes, Henry.
This will not become an obsession, or I will call an end to it.
I understand, she replied.
He picked up a ledger from his desk and opened it, focusing his attention on the columns and rows of numbers. That is all.
Geneva circled his desk, then placed a dutiful kiss on his cheek. Thank you, Henry. With that, she swept out of the room, her head held high, her eyes watery with tears. She didnt even notice Edward standing outside the door, brushing right by him, her skirts rustling.
A few moments later, Edward walked into the library, his footsteps silent on the thick Oriental carpet. He stood in front of his fathers desk, his heart slamming in his chest. When his father finally looked up, there was an expression of impatience etched across his face. What is it?
Are you going to send Mummy away again?
That is none of your concern, he said.
Please dont send her away, Edward begged. I promise, Ill watch over her.
Henry Porter stared at his son for a long moment. And will you tell me if she begins to confuse this Irish urchin with your sister Charlotte?
Edward nodded, crossing his fingers behind his back to lessen the lie. I will, Father, he said.
His father nodded slowly. Youre a good boy. And I think you understand how important it is that your mother keep her wits about her. She has been very emotional lately and thats not good for anyone. You must try to distract her from her worries.
I will. Im good at that.
Very well, his father said. Im glad you see things my way. Run along now, Edward, I have work to do.
Edward hurried out of the library and when he reached the safety of the hallway, he uncrossed his fingers and asked God to forgive him for the lie. It wasnt really a sin to lie when he was just doing it to make his mother happy, was it? Shed suffered so much over the past few years. And if Rose and little Grace were the key to her happiness, then Edward would do everything in his power to make them both stay, his fathers wishes be damned.
What are you doing out here? Malcolm strode down the hall and gave Edward a hard shove, sending him back against the wall. I thought youd be in the nursery playing with that little brat Mother brought home.
Shes not a brat, he said.
Malcolm sent Edward a look of utter disdain. That brat is going to steal every minute of Mothers time. She wont pay attention to you anymore. She wont even see you, just like she doesnt see me. Get used to it, Edward. Its only a matter of time before she loves you less than she loves me.
Maybe if youd be nicer to her shed love you again, Edward accused.
I dont need her, he replied. Neither does Father. Youre the only one in this family who still cares for her and thats because youre still a baby.
I am not! Edward shouted, lashing out at Malcolm. He shoved against his chest, but Malcolm had three years on him and considerable strength.
Malcolm grabbed Edwards arm and twisted it behind his back, then pushed him up against the wall. Dont ever touch me again, he muttered, his breath hot against Edwards ear. If you do, Ill just find a way to take it out on that little Irish girl youre so fond of.
He gave Edwards arm a final twist, then pasted a smile onto his face and walked into the library. As Edward stood outside, he listened as his older brother spoke with his father, the conversation relaxed and friendly.
The lines of loyalty in the Porter house had been clearly drawn since Charlotte had died. His older sister had held them together as a family, but they were on different sides nowMalcolm and Henry against Edward and his mother. Even though Edward was younger, he wasnt afraid of his brother. Malcolm may be stronger and taller, but Edward was far more clever. He would do what it took to protect his mother, even if that meant destroying Malcolm in the process.
CHAPTER THREE
ROSE SAT AT THE WINDOW in her room above the coach house, sunlight spilling onto her lap and illuminating the mending that rested there. She rubbed her eyes, trying to wipe away the fatigue that seemed to descend upon her in the early afternoon.
Though it had been three years since shed been rescued from the streets by Geneva Porter, her health hadnt fully returned. Her lungs were often congested and her eyesight had begun to falter. Though she was strong enough to work, she was left with far too little energy to raise a rambunctious daughter. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, remembering the first months of her stay at Porter Hall.
It hadnt taken long to understand the strange dynamics of the Porter family. Genevas illness wasnt an illness at all, but a chronic melancholy that seemed to grip her without warning. Shed visited countless doctors and taken just as many remedies, but the only thing that drew her out of her depression was Mary Grace.
The little girl, now six years old, had became a balm to Genevas spirit and whenever she felt her mood darkening, shed come to the carriage house to fetch Mary Grace and spend the afternoon in the garden, watching her chase butterflies and pick flowers.
In the beginning, Rose hadnt minded. She believed a strong bond between the two would only help her position in the household. But it had also caused some jealousies with the other, more senior, staff members. Genevas maid, Ruth, had distrusted Rose from the start and jumped on any opportunity to drive a wedge between Rose and the mistress of the house. Cook was chilly and aloof, perturbed that she was expected to deliver meals to the carriage house for Rose and Mary Grace, while the rest of the staff took their meals in the kitchen. And their quarters had been decorated with many little luxuries from the attic, so different from the cold and sterile servants rooms on the third floor of the manor house.
But Rose wasnt going to feel guilty for her position with Geneva Porter. If Genevas affection for Mary Grace would keep them warm and well-fed, then who was she to deny her mistress anything? Or her daughter? She glanced over to the corner and watched as Mary Grace bent over an old wooden box shed found.
What are you doing, my girl? Rose asked. What do you have there?
Mary Grace picked the box up and carried it over to her mother. She opened the top to reveal a variety of woodcarving tools. Where did you find these? Rose asked.
In the stables. Under a pile of hay.
Do you know what they are?
Mary Grace shook her head. Im going to give them to Edward. Hell know what they are.
Theyre woodcarving tools, Rose said. And I think Edward would like these. Hes always carving with that little knife of his. Hed do much better with a fine set of tools like these.
Ill give them as a gift. Maybe for Christmas, Mary Grace said. Or Edwards birthday. Hell be ten years old in She screwed up her face as she tried to remember. Soon.
Rose smoothed her hand over the top of the box. Why, we could find some paint and put his monogram on the top. That would make the gift very special.
Whats a monogram? Mary Grace asked.
Edwards initials. Fancy folk put their initials on everything they own. That way everyone knows who it belongs to.
A box of old tools was little to offer in return for what the Porter family had given Mary Grace. Clothes had magically appeared in the wardrobe and new dolls would find their way into the old chest at the foot of the bed. Books full of beautiful, hand-tipped drawings were stacked on the table beneath the window and nearly every day, Mary Grace would return from the house with some tiny trinket, an old piece of jewelry or a hair ribbon.
Even if Jamie had lived, he never would have been able to provide so well. But Rose knew all the lovely luxuries came at a price. She just hadnt been asked to pay it yet. Whatever it was, shed simply remember that her daughter was happy and healthy and that was worth more than anything in the world to her.
A soft knock sounded on the door and Mary Grace jumped up to answer it. To Roses surprise, Geneva stood on the other side. Lady Porter had never been to Roses rooms. When shed wanted to speak with her, she always sent someone to fetch her and they talked in her parlor. And now she was here with tea, all laid out on a silver tray.
Mary Grace jumped up from her spot and ran over to Geneva. She helped her lay the tea service out on a small table as if shed been doing so for years. Rose watched them make the tea, then realized that theyd probably had tea together often. When they finished, Geneva pulled a hard candy from her pocket and placed it in Mary Graces palm. Run along now, Grace. I need to talk to your mother.
Thank you, Lady Porter, the little girl said with a curtsey.
Edward is out in the garden. Why dont you go visit with him.
They both watched as Mary Grace skipped through the door, her pretty skirts flying out behind her.
I hope Im not disturbing you, Geneva said. She handed a cup of tea to Rose. Theres sugar and milk. Do you take either?
Rose shook her head, unsure of how to respond. It wasnt the choice of sugar or milk, but the fact that her mistress was waiting on her. Is everything all right?
Yes, of course. Geneva poured herself a cup, then grabbed a chair from the table and set it in front of Rose. As she sat down, she smoothed her hands over the skirt of her elegant frock, then crossed her ankles. There is something Ive come here to discuss with you. Its about Grace.
Has she caused some trouble? I try to keep a close eye on her, but sometimes she does wander off.
Shes six years old and I know that you plan to send her to the parish school in the village when the term begins next month. Im sure youre aware that shes a very bright child. Geneva cleared her throat. Youre also aware that Ive grown quite fond of her since youve both come to live here.
Yes, Rose replied. And I thank you for everything youve given her. You dont know how much it means to me to know that shes safe and healthy.
But that isnt always enough, Geneva said. There will come a time when Grace will have to make her own way in the world and to do that, she must be educated. I would like to take responsibility for this.
But Im certain shell learn everything she needs to know in school, Rose said. And Id prefer her to have a religious education.