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Chapter 14

The following morning, there was a stir of excitement when a package of letters arrived, forwarded from Bewley Hall. The family gathered around, and Bridget watched Cormac’s face change as he thumbed through the correspondence, saying, ‘That’s Mr Comerford’s scrawl, I was expecting this from Mr Carruthers, and—ah!’ His expression glowed as he held up two letters. ‘Chicago!’

One of them was from Derval Carey to Rory, who took it and turned away to read it hungrily, Emily peering past his elbow. Cormac opened the other letter addressed to himself, which had come from Orlaith. His eyes glistened as he scanned the page, and Bridget could tell how much he was missing his youngest sister. How eighteen months had gone by in a blink.

‘It sounds like they’re thriving for the most part,’ he said to Bridget, with Jack and Gus also listening eagerly. ‘Charlie’s fighting fires and Orlaith’s patching up the injured. The twins turned one in May and are speaking their first words.’ He smiled but then frowned as he read on. ‘Maggie is almost four, though she doesn’t talk much at all. Bronagh didn’t want to write a note but sends her love.’ Bridget suspected that Orlaith had embellished that slightly, knowing Bronagh’s reserved nature. ‘Tess has regular work at a laundry and hopes to open her own place someday. That’s very good to hear.’ When he finished, he stared down at the sheet of paper with longing. ‘God, I wish I could read it twenty times over. But Rory and I really have to go.’

‘I’ll mind it while you’re away,’ Bridget promised, and he reluctantly surrendered it to her so she could tuck it into her pocket.

The letters had arrived at the perfect moment, as Cormac and Rory were in the midst of preparing to leave that morning, heading for Tipperary with a horse and cart carrying supplies, intending to do what they could to help the Ballingarry locals in the aftermath of the Young Irelanders’ failed rebellion. They would be gone for a few days, maybe more. At least now they set out with a little extra warmth in their hearts. And although Bridget, Emily and the boys would miss them greatly, there was no shortage of tasks to occupy them in their absence.

Indeed, they had scarcely departed when Laurence Enright and John Corbett requested a meeting with Bridget to discuss the current state of affairs at Oakleigh. The drawing room was still occupied by straw mattresses and there was no space yet in the new house designated as a study, so she invited the two stewards to sit with her at the table in the tenants’ dining hall once it had been vacated after breakfast. They took the bench opposite her – John seemed totally at ease in this setting, while Mr Enright made a valiant effort to appear so, even as he struggled to swing his legs over the bench.

‘Thank you for meeting with us, my lady,’ he said, straightening his spectacles. ‘We know there have been many demands on your time.’

John gave her a paternal wink. ‘I wager you’ve hardly remembered to sleep since you got here.’

She shrugged self-consciously. ‘It’s difficult to conceive of resting when there is always more work to be done.’

Mr Enright folded his hands on the surface of the table. While most of his nails had grown back normally, she discerned the uneven ridges on both of his thumbnails, silent reminders of the brutality he had suffered twelve years ago when two malicious tenants had wrenched off all of his nails in retaliation for the evictions Lady Courcey had compelled him to carry out.

‘What you and Mr McGovern have achieved has been nothing short of remarkable,’ he said, his voice full of respect. ‘The estate had been teetering on the brink of ruin a year ago, but now it is beginning to revive, thanks to your concerted efforts.’ He cleared his throat. ‘However, this comes with its own concerns. Oakleigh’s recovery is attracting attention from further afield—’

‘We’re doing all we can to help other communities too,’ she interposed. ‘Cormac departed for Tipperary barely an hour ago, and we mean to send Mrs Kavanagh to Wexford very soon with provisions to help the tenants on the Rathglaney Estate. I hope no one suspects us of hoarding the charity funds for Oakleigh’s benefit alone.’

‘Begging your pardon, my lady, that is not the point I was leading towards. The problem is that poor folk from other regions are flocking to Oakleigh. They’ve heard that the people here are faring better under your guardianship, and they seek refuge. Your benevolence is, of course, wholly commendable, but it has had the unintentional consequence of inviting an even greater strain upon your resources.’

‘Oh, I see,’ she said, nonplussed.

Her mind drifted back to the pair of ginger-haired lads she had seen in The Pikeman the previous day. They had seemed so embarrassed – had they been outsiders chancing their luck? What about the unfortunate pregnant girl by herself? Could she have been an outcast forced to seek sanctuary elsewhere, in a place rumoured to be more hospitable? It might explain why the family had run out of the food they were distributing. And yet, if that was the case, how astonishing it was that none of the villagers had raised an objection to the presence of strangers in their midst.

‘Why would the local residents abide it?’ she asked aloud. ‘If these extra mouths mean they themselves might have to go without?’

John shook his head. ‘I can’t speak for every individual on the estate, but I know they won’t turn them away from Ballydarry, not if Ben has anything to say about it. The Pikeman has become their focal point, and ’tis his establishment so ’tis his rules. He wouldn’t have the heart to cast out anyone in need. Neither would the majority of the villagers, in fairness. They’re decent folk and they understand the desperation of others, for it wasn’t too long ago they were in as bad a predicament.’

‘My goodness,’ she said, ‘that is truly admirable conduct on their part.’

‘Indeed,’ said Mr Enright. ‘As admirable as your own, housing the tenants throughout the manor during the worst of this calamitous blight.’

She tilted her head. ‘I believe I can guess what you’re about to say next.’

He smiled faintly. ‘Yes, my lady. The time has come when these tenants must return to their own dwellings and commence paying their rents again, and the manor must be restored to its original function as the home of a noble family.’

‘Noble?’ she said with an amused twist of her mouth. ‘My family is about as far from noble as can be, at least in the traditional sense of the word. However, I take your point.’

‘I’m glad you do. Oakleigh deserves to reclaim its former splendour. Perhaps that could begin with you furnishing the house again as it once was?’

Perceiving his dubious glance around the dining hall, she said firmly, ‘This wing shall remain. Even once the blight passes, there will always be some tenants in need, and so there must always be a place for them to find succour until they can support themselves again.’

‘We won’t argue with you on that, my lady,’ John said with equal firmness, and Mr Enright gave a conceding nod.

Bridget’s gaze wandered to the empty walls. Yes, it would soon be time to breathe life back into the manor, to make it a place where people lived rather than just survived. It needed to be filled once more with beauty and art. She thought of Emily’s painting which they had brought with them from England – how proud she would be to see her daughter’s work displayed in a place of honour at Oakleigh. She relished the prospect of reviving the grandeur of the house with elegant furniture, of making its rooms cosy with drapes and rugs, of restocking the library’s shelves with books…but the days were passing too quickly.

‘Unfortunately, there won’t be much time to embrace this endeavour before we leave at the end of the summer,’ she said. ‘While we should like Oakleigh to be our primary home in the future, we have to go back to England in the short term. Cormac has ongoing obligations at Bewley Hall, and the boys must resume their studies with their tutor.’

Mr Enright leaned forwards. ‘Then why don’t you stay longer, even after the others must go? The work here is far from finished and the estate would benefit from your steady presence.’

She mulled over his suggestion. To stay where she was most needed certainly appealed to her, but Cormac would baulk at the idea of her travelling separately from the family, given what had happened the last time she came to Ireland in the regrettable company of Mr Sandler. If she was being honest, the notion didn’t thrill her either, much as she wished she had the courage to dismiss her apprehension.

‘I don’t know whether it would be wise for Polly and me to journey alone…’ she said, trailing off as her hesitation billowed up between her and the two men.

John gave her a reassuring nod. ‘I’ll personally see to your safety,’ he said. ‘I can escort you and Miss Hawkins all the way from here to the front door of Bewley Hall if needs be.’

That made her feel a hundred times better, and she knew Cormac would have no objection to such a scenario either.

‘Let us consider it, then,’ she said with a grateful smile.

‘Very good, my lady,’ said Mr Enright. ‘In that case, another task you ought to take into account is the matter of household management. A proper complement of staff must be hired to help the manor function properly again. You have a cook, but what about a housekeeper, a butler, maids, gardeners? These are essential positions, and filling them will bring employment to many of the local people.’

After a pensive pause, Bridget said, ‘You are quite right. Please leave this with me.’

Once their meeting had concluded, they left the tenants’ dining hall and Bridget made her way below stairs to the kitchens. As she approached the door to the main kitchen, she detected the savoury scent of cooking meat, along with Mrs Kavanagh’s voice raised in exasperation.

‘Gus McGovern, if I catch you pilfering from my pantry again, I swear to the heavens—’

‘I’m not pilfering!’ came Gus’s responding protest. ‘It’s for the villagers, I promise!’

Mrs Kavanagh’s tone softened. ‘Ah, you’re a good-hearted lad, just like your da.’ Then she became stern again. ‘But there are rules, even when it’s for a worthy cause. You’ve got to ask first, understand?’

Bridget stepped into the kitchen and Gus froze at the sight of her, a basket of loaves in his arms and what looked like a pot of honey sticking out of his pocket. Perhaps in an effort to avert a potential scolding, he rattled off at full tilt, ‘Jack and I are going back to Ballydarry with Liam óg and Aidan because we want to bring more food to the villagers and I should have asked Mrs Kavanagh first but I definitely will next time and we’ll see you later, Ma!’

With a winning smile, he darted out the back door of the kitchen into the courtyard.

Mrs Kavanagh chuckled and gave Bridget a wry look. ‘I’m sure I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know but, good Lord, it’s nigh on impossible to stay vexed with that lad for long.’

‘It is,’ Bridget agreed with a sigh, contemplating whether Gus’s cheeky behaviour warranted a light smack on his rump. ‘Shall I call him back to return what he’s purloined?’

Mrs Kavanagh waved a dismissive hand. ‘After hearing about yesterday’s shortage, I’d baked that additional bread specifically for the villagers.’ She winked. ‘But he wasn’t to know that, was he?’

Bridget laughed. ‘I’m glad he accidentally did the right thing. On another matter, I’m looking for Ellen. Is she about?’

‘I think she’s out at the stables giving her two lads strict orders to look after your two while they’re on their expedition to the village.’

Mrs Kavanagh had scarcely finished speaking when Ellen came through the back door, the ends of the black ribbon on her arm fluttering as she crossed the threshold in a hurry. As soon as she saw Bridget, she said quickly, ‘I was just going to seek you out. Our four boys are heading to Ballydarry but I have Liam óg and Aidan well warned not to get up to any mischief.’

‘That’s perfectly fine,’ Bridget said. ‘I know Jack and Gus will be safe with them. Could I have a word with you, if now is a convenient time?’

‘Oh, of course,’ Ellen replied without question, and she followed Bridget out of the main kitchen and down the hall to an empty room. There were several spaces such as this below stairs that had yet to be utilised since the manor had been rebuilt. This one was not very large but it had a fireplace and the potential to be quite snug once it acquired some furniture.

Bridget glanced around it before focusing her gaze on Ellen. ‘It’s time for Oakleigh to thrive once more as a proper home for both family and staff. I believe this room could work very well as the housekeeper’s office. Would you agree?’

Ellen appraised their bare surroundings with a crease between her brows. ‘Yes, I think it would be quite suitable. It’s close enough to the kitchen that the housekeeper and Mrs Kavanagh would be able to coordinate together with relative ease, and yet it’s at enough of a distance that she could consider it to be her own domain.’

‘Excellent,’ Bridget said. ‘I’m glad it pleases you. Needless to say, it must be furnished first before it’s ready to be occupied. You will want a writing desk, certainly, and cabinets for the linen and household inventories, and maybe a comfortable chair by the fireplace?’

Ellen’s mouth dropped open. ‘Wait…you mean…?’

Bridget gave her a warm smile. ‘Indeed, I do.’

‘But I’m not—I couldn’t—’

‘You could, and you would do a marvellous job.’

Ellen stared at her, stunned. ‘Would you not wish to hire a proper housekeeper with experience?’

Bridget’s jaw tightened as she remembered Mrs Walsh, the housekeeper who had worked at the manor during her mother’s guardianship. She had no idea where the woman was now, nor if she was even still alive, but she would make no attempt to trace her whereabouts – she could still recall the sound of the key clicking into place when Mrs Walsh had helped Garrett lock Bridget into her bedchamber to prevent her from running away with the McGovern family.

Bridget took Ellen’s hands in both of her own. ‘You have done so much to lead the tenants here this past year, despite everything you have suffered yourself. Your strength and dedication are extraordinary. You are more than capable of filling this role, and Oakleigh would be honoured to have you do so.’

Ellen let out an unsteady breath. ‘The honour would be mine.’

Bridget squeezed her fingers. ‘It will probably mean that you and your children ought to remain living here at the manor, even after all the other tenants return to their own homes. With Liam óg and Aidan already working as stable hands, that makes the most sense. As for Bridie, she is too young to begin employment yet, but perhaps in the future she might take up a position in the scullery? That would keep her near you, and she could rise through the maids’ ranks over time.’

Emotion welled in Ellen’s eyes. ‘Thank you,’ she managed to whisper.

One consequence of this arrangement was that the McGovern family cottage would lie empty in the long term if the Kirwans did not return to it. Bridget sincerely hoped that someday it would become a home again, possibly for one of Ellen’s children whenever they married. She pictured the horseshoe above its door – had it rusted over the years? It was supposed to bring luck, and yet not everyone who had lived within those walls had been lucky. Still, maybe it would bless another family with better fortune in the future.

But for now, they would concentrate on reviving this beloved home.

She gave Ellen a thoughtful look. ‘And Denis?’ she asked. ‘What do you think of my appointing him as butler?’

Ellen emitted a watery chuckle. ‘I think he would jump over the moon with pride.’

Bridget felt her heart glow. Little by little, they would piece together a new and enduring community at Oakleigh.