Page 27 of The Book of Irish Secrets (Magnolia Manor #5)

NINETEEN

Claire slept soundly all night and woke up late.

Momentarily confused, she looked around the little bedroom and smiled to herself, feeling a surge of joy as always at being in her own little flat at the top of Magnolia Manor.

She luxuriated for a while in the softness of the old linen sheets that felt like silk, then got up and had a quick shower, drying herself with one of the threadbare towels Rose had supplied her with.

She had brought some of her own from Dublin, but she oddly wanted to use everything the manor could provide.

The different pieces of crockery Rose had put into the kitchen cupboards included plates from the formal dinner service in Royal Doulton china, some cereal bowls from a downstairs kitchen service and other bits and pieces that looked ancient but still in very good nick.

The glasses were also an eclectic mix of modern and old and Claire enjoyed drinking her orange juice from what must have been an old wine glass of wafer-thin crystal.

Then she poured tea from a teapot with a Beatrix Potter motif into a mug decorated with tiny flowers she was sure was Victorian.

The cutlery, some of which was sterling silver, was heavy and engraved with the Fleury family crest. It felt as if all the history of the manor was contained in the cupboards and drawers of the tiny kitchen.

As she enjoyed her breakfast sitting at the little table by the window, Claire gazed at the view of the garden and the sea.

Up here she could see far out to the horizon and she noticed that it was going to be quite a nice day: cold but sunny, perfect for a walk in the grounds before she tackled the little room by the stairs that contained the family archives.

She felt slightly apprehensive about going in there without permission, but then told herself sternly that if they were the family archives of all the Fleurys, she had a perfect right to look through them.

Claire made her way to the little room beside the stairs.

The door creaked as she eased it open and she quickly went inside, turned on the light and closed the door gently behind her.

Then she dragged a stool from the other end of the room and sat down in front of the shelving unit with the material that had not yet been looked at, and pulled out a few papers.

They turned out to be shopping lists which could be fascinating for anyone researching into the Victorian diet but not exactly what she was looking for.

Then Claire spotted a cardboard box with all kinds of letters and cards, and pulled that onto her lap.

There were Christmas and birthday cards, all yellow with age but quirky and sweet.

She looked at each one, thrilled at the signatures of long-dead family members she had heard Auntie Rachel mention.

At the bottom of the box, she found a few letters of little interest and then there was what looked like an old copybook used by schoolchildren in the early years of the last century.

Claire opened it and as she read what was on the first page, she nearly stopped breathing.

This was no school copybook but a kind of diary, written in spidery handwriting.

Each entry had a date and as Claire read, she deduced that the author was Maria Fleury, Cornelius and Louis’ mother.

My great-great- grandmother , Claire thought as she read about daily life at Magnolia Manor over a hundred years ago.

There were outings and luncheons, dinner parties and afternoon tea with friends and neighbours, the children growing and going to school and college.

Iseult, Maria’s daughter, married someone her father didn’t approve of and moved to Cork, an event which seemed as if it had created high drama.

But then… Claire read, fascinated, an entry at the end of the dog-eared copybook. It was dated March 1910.

Words can’t quite describe what happened during the annual Magnolia ball, when Caroline O’Sullivan walked into the ballroom on her father’s arm.

All eyes turned to stare at this beautiful young woman, a vision in blue silk.

As she glided in, Louis managed to elbow Cornelius out of the way to ask her for a dance and soon the two of them were on the floor, dancing the waltz to the tune of ‘The Blue Danube’.

Louis only had eyes for Caroline and they looked into each other’s eyes as they danced so beautifully, as if their feet didn’t touch the floor.

I knew then that we were witnessing love at first sight.

How romantic, we thought, how perfect that this girl and Louis, the heir to the estate, would fall for each other without any prompting from anyone.

John was so happy. This would make him feel better after Iseult’s rebellion.

Claire paused for a moment while she took all this in.

So Louis and not Cornelius was the heir to Magnolia Manor?

This was confusing. She had always thought Cornelius was the heir.

Caroline had married Cornelius and not Louis.

But why? And then Louis had left and made a new life for himself in Dublin.

Why had he left without Caroline? What had happened to cause all this?

There was no answer and when Claire turned the page, she found that there were no more.

The last pages had been torn out of the copybook, only leaving little fragments at the spine.

Had someone ripped out the pages so that the secret remained hidden?

It was so frustrating to nearly be there and then be cheated of the last part of the story.

Claire felt around at the bottom of the box but found only bits of papers that were receipts and other such scraps of paper of no interest. Then she remembered Auntie Rachel’s book with all the photos that she hadn’t come to the end of yet.

There could be something there that might throw some light on this latest mystery.

Dazed, Claire got up from the stool, clutching the old copybook.

She decided to keep it; nobody knew it was there so it wouldn’t be missed.

Then she left the room, not forgetting to turn off the light.

It was quite dark on the top landing and she could hear rain smattering against the windows of the flat when she went inside.

She quickly turned on all the lamps and pulled the curtains, which made the living room look very cosy.

Claire went to fetch Auntie Rachel’s book and settled on the sofa to look through it.

She looked at the family tree again, at the names and dates but, of course, the twin brothers’ birthdays were the same.

Then she turned the pages and studied the photos, paying extra attention to those of Caroline Fleury, especially the ones taken just after her wedding to Cornelius.

She was indeed very beautiful and she seemed to look at Cornelius with love and affection in her beautiful eyes.

But there was a hint of sadness in her gaze and Claire began to wonder if Caroline was thinking she had married the wrong brother.

If she and Louis had, as Maria Fleury described, fallen in love at first sight, what had happened to destroy it?

It had to be something momentous, something incredibly bad and unforgiveable that had driven Louis away from his family and his rightful inheritance.

Feeling frustrated, Claire closed the book and put it away in the case under her bed where she kept her own files, adding the old copybook to the collection.

But as she wandered back into the living room, Claire couldn’t shake the feeling that this changed everything.

Louis had been the rightful heir to Magnolia Manor.

If anyone found out who she was, they might think she was here for the wrong reasons.

It would look as if she had come to claim her family’s right to Magnolia Manor.