In Dublin's Fair City (20 page)

“Sit down, my dear. Cullen, get her a brandy. She looks about ready to pass out.”

“I’m all right,” I said, but for once I welcomed the brandy. The burning liquid did seem to spread warmth into my frozen limbs. “But what's become of Malachy?”

“Don’t worry about him. He's been taken in by one of Mr. O’Brien's supporters who has boys of his own. He’ll be just fine there.”

Cullen shifted in his seat. “So, young man, how do you think your being here is going to be of any help to your brother?”

Liam glanced around again, “I’m not sure if I should be talking in front of these people.”

“They’ve all sworn an oath, except for your sister, and I don’t imagine she’d betray her own family. Go on, let's hear what you’ve got to say.”

“I was told, sir, that there was a plan to break certain men out of Kil-mainham Gaol. I wanted to make sure that Joseph was among them.”

“If the plan is such common knowledge that it reaches the far corners of Ireland, then there's no way it will be carried out,” Cullen said. “I’m not risking the very fabric of our organization at this critical stage.”

“But sir, it has to take place,” Liam said. “You can’t let Joseph hang. And it's not the whole of Ireland that knows, just Mr. O’Brien, and he only sent me down here because it was my brother and he thought I might be of help.”

“So you think you’re better at infiltrating a jail that has been called the Irish Bastille than any of the men we have trained, are you?” Cullen demanded.

“No sir. It's just that Joseph and me look alike, almost like twins,wouldn’t you say, Molly? I thought that somehow I might act as a decoy—add to the confusion, you might say—have the guards chase me by mistake.” He stood there with his hands on his hips, staring at Cullen. “I don’t know what kind of plan you’ve got in mind, sir, but I’m ready to do whatever you want to help.”

A weary smile crossed Cullen's face. “You’re a brave lad, Liam. I like that. But I have to warn you that this is going to be no bun-fight. We’re hoping to spring some of our men from jail; but more than anything, we want to send a message to the English that we’re here, and we’re alive and arming ourselves, and we’re making preparations for the big fight that will come one day soon. We want to scare the pants off them, Liam. Maybe we’ll get nobody out and maybe most of us will die trying, but by God it will be a rallying call to our countrymen, won’t it?”

I could see now why I sensed immediately that he was a leader, one that men would follow into battle. I heard myself saying, “If there's anything that I can do to help you, then count me in.”

Twenty-four

A
t least we appear to have a new supply of weapons, although I can’t think why I wasn’t notified about them sooner.” Cullen still looked perturbed. It was later that evening and the boys,

including Liam, had been sent on their way. I would dearly have liked the chance to talk to him, and to hug him too, but he had gone without much of a backward glance at me when ordered to do so. I got the feeling he was worried about getting emotional in front of the other lads. I was left alone with Grania and Cullen, and not at all sure about what might happen next.

“I told you, Cullen,” Grania said, “we only received word about them yesterday.”

“The message was sent to Maude Donne at the theater. It concerned stage properties for an upcoming play, donated by Oona and sounding quite innocent. Maude naturally passed the message along to Queen Mab.”

“Queen Mab,” Cullen said scornfully. “So she's in charge now, is she?”

“Not of the Daughters of Erin, per se, but of the organization's more militant branch, yes.”

“And you women will be running the battles from now on?”

“The Daughters of Erin have done their part so far and will continue to do whatever is required of us,” Grania said stiffly, “and as to that, it

“We?”made more sense to send the message in this way, when your organization is sure to be more closely watched than ours. At least now we have the weapons safely hidden and waiting for when they will be needed.”

Cullen continued to scowl. “And it seems that my own lads were used to transport them.”

“Obviously our women don’t possess the strength to haul around trunks full of weapons, so Queen Mab enlisted them,” Grania said.

“Queen Mab enlisted them,” Cullen repeated scornfully.

“You’re being unreasonable, Cullen. If all our little groups can’t work together, what hope do we have of uniting when the big push comes some day. And it's sheer arrogance to think that you men will be the only ones with a say in how our country is to be ruled.”

Cullen looked at her and then he laughed. “I can see you taking over from Queen Victoria, Grania. You’d love every minute of it.”

She smiled too. “Contrary to popular belief, I’d be happier carrying on with my life of leisure. I enjoy my theater and art shows and trips to Paris for the fashions. I’d hate to give them up to have to rule a country. I’m sure you’ll do it much better than I.”

“I don’t expect to be alive that long,” Cullen said.

“Don’t say that.” Grania shivered.

“We have to face facts, Grania. It's only a matter of time before they find out I’m back in Ireland, and then you know very well that my life isn’t worth a damn. Most likely it will be a sniper's bullet so that they don’t have to bother incarcerating me again.”

I had been looking from one to the other, following this conversation with awe. It was like watching a play. I decided she was every bit as brave as he. He had nothing to lose at this stage, but she had a grand life with all the money and freedom she could want, and she was prepared to risk it all. And my own little brother was all ready to follow them. And in the heat of emotion, I had volunteered to help them. I wondered how brave I’d be when it came to it.

“I think we need refreshments, don’t you?” Grania said. She went across to a bellpull and almost immediately a young maid appeared. “Francoise,” she said, and proceeded to address her in French. The girl curtseyed, “Oui, Madame,” she said, and hurried out.

I saw why Grania didn’t have to worry about our meetings being overheard by her staff.

Cullen looked more relaxed. He took out a pipe and lit it. “I’m still amazed that Oona is working for us over in America,” he said. “I thought she’d renounced the cause long ago in favor of fame and fortune.”

“Isn’t it obvious why she's doing it?” Grania said. “She's doing it for you. She heard you were back in circulation and still carries a torch for you, Cullen.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cullen said. “That was all years ago.”

“You forget that we women can carry a torch for life.”

The way she looked at him made me realize something. These two were lovers, or had been. I’d led a sheltered life and didn’t know much about such things, but I had seen Daniel look at me in that way.

I went to stand up. “If you’ll forgive me, I’m tired and I need to go back to my hotel room.”

“Don’t be silly, Molly,” Grania said. “We can’t let you go out alone at this time of night. You’re staying here. We’ve plenty of room. And in the morning I’ll send one of the staff round for your things. Much more comfortable than a stuffy old hotel.”

I saw that I wasn’t going to be allowed to escape. They might be acting like civilized people, but I was still to be held a prisoner.

“You really don’t have to worry about me,” I said. “You said yourself that I’m not likely to betray my own brother.”

“I’m sure you’re not,” Cullen said, “but the enemy has many spies and some of them are highly skilled at wheedling information out of unsuspecting young ladies. To tell you the truth, I haven’t quite made up my mind as to whether you and your brother are among the enemy's latest choice of spies.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “You heard why Liam is here.”

“What better way to learn our plans than to pretend to be working with us? When I’ve done a little checking of my own, I’ll decide how much you are to be trusted, and what I’m to do with you.”

“I’ve already offered to work with you, but I’ve also my own job to do,” I said. “I’m being paid by a man in America to locate his lost sister.I have to do my very best to find her. And since I know she came to Dublin with Terrence Moynihan, then I must begin with his old address and work from there. She may still be close by.”

“I doubt very much that you’ll find her,” Cullen said.

“Why do you say that?”

“I never heard any mention of Terrence Moynihan having a wife. She certainly was never seen in public with him.”

“She wouldn’t have been married to him. She was married to a man called Kelly, down near Waterford.”

“Waterford, Grania. Your part of the world, is it not?”

“Long ago, yes,” Grania said. “So she fled from her husband, did she?”

“A great brute of a man,” I said. “I can understand why she ran away.”

“Then it seems all too possible that Mr. Kelly found his errant wife and killed her, don’t you think?” Grania looked at Cullen.

“All too possible,” Cullen said. “I never saw Terrence with a woman. I never heard him mention her. So I’m afraid Grania's suggestion does seem the most likely.”

“Unless she decided that she’d made a mistake and didn’t want to stay with Terrence Moynihan,” I said. “She might have decided to leave him and go somewhere else. But I’ve no idea where that would be. She was raised in an orphanage. She had no home.”

“You’re looking for a needle in a haystack,” Cullen said. “She could be anywhere in Ireland, if she's still alive. She could have gone to try her luck in England. And if she was left behind in the days of the famine, then she’d be quite an old woman by now. Not everyone lives to beyond fifty.”

“But I must keep on trying,” I said. “Please let me do what I have to.” “Don’t you want to help your brother escape from Kilmainham?” Cullen asked.

“Of course I do.”

“Then you’ll stay on here, until we’ve made our plans,” Cullen said. “You won’t find it a bad life, I’ll tell you that. Grania spoils us hopelessly.”

“And in a couple of days you’ll have the chance to meet the Daughters of Erin,” Grania said. “We’ve a meeting at this house.” “Saints preserve us,” Cullen said with a sigh.

Food was brought, but I found it hard to swallow. At last Grania noted that my eyes were shutting of their own accord and had me led up the stairs to bed. A hot water bottle greeted me among crisply starched sheets. I lay hugging it to me, trying to get warm, trying to come to terms with this latest twist in my adventure. My father was dead, one brother under sentence of death, and the other working with a revolutionary group, while the youngest was hidden away. I had thought, when I escaped to New York, that I had freed myself from my family, whom I saw as annoying and demanding. Now I realized that family ties cannot so easily be cut. My brothers might have been ungrateful, tracked in mud, and demanded food at all hours; but I still cared about them.

I had made a brave promise to Cullen Quinlan that I would help them in any way they needed me. Now, as I lay awake, I had time to consider that promise. Of course I wanted to help free Joseph from prison, but I hadn’t really thought what that might entail. Fighting? Killing people? Did I really want to help bring down the government and perhaps set anarchy in its place? Was the English rule really so bad for us? And what was I really prepared to do anyway—learn how to shoot a gun? To kill innocent people, if so ordered?

I hugged that hot water bottle to me, feeling its firm and comforting warmth through its flannel cover. It seemed I had little choice but to go along with them until I knew more. I was either for them or against them. And if I was against them, Cullen had already told me I’d be disposed of. I was now committed to being part of their plot, whatever happened.

Twenty-five

I
was woken by the French maid bearing a tray of tea and biscuits, and found myself in a delightful room with lace curtains letting in leafy sunlight. Before I had had a chance to drink the tea the maid returned bearing a jug of hot water. A fire was already burning in my fireplace. There were clean clothes laid out for me. I didn’t think that staying here for a while would prove too much of a hardship. Of course a voice in my head nagged that I was actually being held here against my will. For the second time in a matter of weeks, I was in a beautiful prison.

In the light of day my brave offer to help rescue Joseph seemed overdramatic and ridiculous. How could I possibly help break into a jail? Exploits like that should be left to trained men. In truth I wanted no part of it, much as I hoped Joseph could be rescued. I didn’t feel that patriotic fire burning in my belly. I wandered around the room and considered how I might escape.

It occurred to me that Inspector Harris might have been keeping an eye on me at the Shelbourne and would notice I was missing. But what good would that do me, unless he’d actually had a man following me to witness my kidnapping. And he wasn’t likely to have had me followed, was he? Not when it appeared I was no longer a suspect. Then, for some reason, I thought of Mr. Fitzpatrick, appearing out of the blue and seeming so interested in striking up a friendship. I was hardly a Dublin beauty, when compared to Grania, and I certainly wasn’t an heiress...so was it possible that he was working with the police and keeping an eye on me for them?

In which case I was probably now in worse trouble than before. Inspector Harris might construe this to mean that I was trying to give him the slip. And what about Mary Ann? How could I look for her when I was cooped up here? She was the only reason I was in Ireland, after all. But then I figured that Tom Burke had given me no time frame. As long as I was not living off his money, then my time was my own. If I had to spend a few days at the pleasure of Grania Hyde-Borne, then it wasn’t really the worst fate in the world, was it? The most sensible thing was to stop worrying and see what happened next. Having talked myself into not feeling guilty, I washed, dressed, and went down to a good breakfast of smoked haddock, scrambled eggs, and kidneys.

I was on the toast and marmalade when Grania came to join me. “Your things have been collected from the Shelbourne and they have been told that you will not be returning,” she said. “You have received unexpected news from America and are traveling home on the next boat.”

“I see,” I said. “So I am to be kept here as a prisoner?”

“Not a prisoner. Heavens, no. A welcome houseguest,” she said. “I trust you found the room to your liking?”

“It's a lovely room,” I said, “and I have been made most comfortable. But I do have a job to do in Ireland. I’m being paid to find Mary Ann Burke.”

“I tell you what,” she said, moving her chair confidentially closer to me. “I’ll send out my spies, if you like. I know Cullen won’t approve of our drawing attention to ourselves around the city by asking questions at this point, but I’ll use the most discreet of the Daughters of Erin. They may be able to find out if your Mary Ann is still in the city and what happened to her after Terrence died.”

“Would you do that?” I beamed at her. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“I’m only too happy to help.” She patted my shoulder as if I was a cherished pet.

“Grania, why are you doing all this?” I asked.

“Helping you? Because you need help.”

“No, I meant working with the Brotherhood, taking terrible risks?”

She laughed merrily. “As for the terrible risks, I’m afraid you overestimate my part. I am merely a facilitator. I bring people together, I pass along messages. I know everybody, you see. I present a wonderfully visible, respectable face to the world. And I have a big house where secret meetings can be held when my husband is away.”

“Your husband is away a lot?”

“He finds Ireland deadly dull,” she said, “so he prefers to spend his winters at our London home and springtime in Paris. Usually I join him, only this year, knowing Cullen was to return, I pleaded ill health. When the prison break actually occurs, I shall be on the boat bound for Liverpool, on my way to join my husband.”

“But you still haven’t answered my question,” I said. “Are you doing it for Cullen?”

“For Cullen?” she asked, looking amused if anything. “Why would I be doing it for Cullen? I’m not under his command.”

“But under his spell?” I said cautiously. “You yourself suggested that Oona Sheehan only agreed to the little scheme with the trunks because she still carried a torch for Cullen.”

She laughed merrily. “And you think I still carry a torch for him? How sweet you are. Darling, I’m a married woman.”

“That hasn’t exactly prevented other people from falling in love.”

“I’ll be quite honest with you,” she said. “I’m certainly not in love with my husband. I married him because of what he could offer— money, power, a chance to travel, to live well. And I did have a brief and heady romance with Cullen when we were considerably younger. But Cullen is only in love with one thing—Ireland. I need someone who will adore me for myself, not for what I can offer. So Cullen and I remain devoted friends, no more.”

“Then I return to my question,” I said. “Why risk all this—your home, your position, your money? Surely you are one of the Anglo-Irish, aren’t you? You must be in favor of keeping English rule?”

“On the contrary,” she said. “I am fervently opposed to it. I rather think that your personality is like mine—we don’t like to be ruled by anybody. But if anybody's going to rule us, it should be our own people, with our own interests at heart. As for being Anglo-Irish—my family has lived in Ireland for four hundred years. I think that makes us Irish,don’t you? And my thinking is this: Ireland could have been a prosperous country—should be a prosperous country. But we have been brought to our knees by unfair taxes and restrictions, by the English siphoning off all the best in Irish produce for themselves, and by the restrictions placed on Catholics. We have been turned into second-class subjects in our own land. Most of our people are too cowed to speak for themselves. They need people like me and Cullen to stir them into action.”

“So you are prepared to risk everything.” “If need be.”

“I wish I had your kind of zeal burning inside me,” I said. “I have a strong sense of justice, but I don’t think I’d risk my life to change the government in my country.”

“We all have our own paths to follow,” Grania said. “I wouldn’t force anyone into following mine.” She got up. “Come. Let us go up to your room and make sure that you have everything that you need. I’m afraid it's no use trying to communicate with Francoise unless you speak French.”

We had reached the dining room door when an elderly man appeared. “Are you done with your breakfast, my lady?” he asked. “Quite finished, thank you, Bertie.”

She whisked me past him. My heart was beating rather fast. “My lady?” I stammered. “I didn’t realize. I apologize for my rudeness.”

“What rudeness?”

“Calling you by your first name.”

She laughed merrily. “My dear, within the Sisterhood and the Brotherhood we are all first names, and you are now a sister. Hence you are Molly and I am Grania.”

“I thought everyone had to have a nickname.”

“My sweet, it's impossible for me to disguise who I am. Everyone in Dublin knows Grania. They think I am a social butterfly, light, flippant, and therefore harmless. It is working wonderfully so far.”

With that she took my hand and swept me up to my room. My clothes had been put away and the window was open, letting in good, fresh air with just a tang of salt in it. It was the sort of place where Icould have been blissfully happy in other circumstances. At this moment there seemed no way to unclench the tight knot in my stomach.

“Go down to the library and choose reading materials for yourself,” she said, “because I do get a lot of visitors and I rather think that you should stay out of sight, just in case.”

As we came down the stairs again, the elderly retainer was returning from the front door, bearing a salver. “The post has arrived, m’lady,” he said. “Should I take it through to the morning room? There's a letter from Lord Ashburton.”

“Oh dear, is there?” A frown crossed her lovely face. “Well, I suppose I had better read it immediately.” She took the letters from the salver. I hesitated in the hallway, not sure what was required of me, but she turned as she reached a door and said, “Come, Molly.”

I followed her into a bright, uncluttered room with chinz-covered chairs. She went over to a ladies secretary, took out a letter opener, and slit open the envelope. I remained standing near the doorway, not because she had not instructed me to sit down, but because I was trying to recall why the name had been so familiar to me. Someone had used that name recently.

“Who is Lord Ashburton?” I couldn’t resist asking.

She looked up, amused. “My husband, of course.”

Almost as she said the words, I heard the echo in my head. Sir Toby Conroy at Ormond Hall saying, “She's quite the society lady these days—Lady Ashburton.”

I stared at her, trying to piece things together. “You’re Toby Con-roy's sister,” I blurted out.

She looked surprised. “Yes I am. Do you know Toby?”

“I went to your family seat, looking for Mary Ann Burke,” I said. “Why didn’t you tell me that you knew her?”

There was a long pause and then she said, “That is the Mary Ann you are looking for?”

I nodded. “She was your nursemaid, I believe. She ran off with a groom.”

“My Mary Ann? How extraordinary,” she said. “You know, it never crossed my mind that we were talking about the same person. I don’t think I ever knew her surname—well, servants don’t have surnames, dothey? And I think I always called her nursie, although I did know her name was Mary Ann. And as to running off with a groom—I had no idea what happened to her. One day she was there and the next day she wasn’t, and nanny said I was never to mention her again. I pined for her for quite a while. Are you absolutely sure she was the one who came to Dublin with Terrence Moynihan? I really can’t picture my Mary Ann running off with a revolutionary poet.” “Yes, I’m sure,” I said.

“Well, now I have a double incentive for sending out my spies to look for her,” Grania said. “Rest assured I’ll leave no stone unturned. If she's still in Dublin, I’ll find her for you. I’d certainly love to see her again myself. I was very fond of her. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to read my husband's letter.”

I wandered over to the window and found that it overlooked an elegant square of tall, Georgian townhouses. Nannies were pushing prams, tradesmen were making deliveries and ladies were out for a morning stroll. It all looked very jolly and very normal. I wondered what would happen if I just went to the front door of the house and then walked away. Would they come after me? Would I be allowed to leave the country?

Then, of course, I reminded myself that I wasn’t about to leave Liam and Joseph in the lurch. I perched on an upright cane chair and picked up a magazine. I had scarcely opened it before I heard a gasp from Grania.

“Oh, dear God,” she said.

“What's wrong?”

“Just about everything,” she said. “Gerald is coming home this weekend. He's bought a filly and he wants to see her race. He's sending the servants ahead, and he’ll be arriving on Friday, damnation.”

I looked at her with interest. She was the only woman I had heard swear, apart from those in the gutter who knew no better.

She looked up at me, frowning. “That's certainly put a spoke in our wheel, hasn’t it? I won’t be able to hold any more meetings at the house, and you and Cullen certainly won’t be able to stay here any longer. I suppose I could spirit you away to our place in the country, but you’d be no use to the cause stuck miles from the nearest railway. I’ll have towork fast to find a new place to hide you—and I have a luncheon engagement today too. And the Daughters of Erin are supposed to be meeting here tomorrow evening. Let us just pray that Gerald's servants don’t make it back here too quickly, or we’ll be in a real soup.” She got up. “I’d better go and wake Cullen. He's a notoriously late sleeper. He’ll have to help me decide what to do next.”