Page 191 of The Missing Sister

‘Well, she is a very lucky woman, and I’m sure she will enjoy the pie. Nuala, I come to you on behalf of a wife who is sickly and, like yourself, desperate for her husband’s safe return. If there is anyone you know who might be holding Lord Bandon, could you please send her plea for clemency?’

Again, Nuala sat poker-faced, saying nothing.

Lady Fitzgerald indicated the basket. ‘Inside are foodstuffs from my own pantry, which will feed the hostage in the manner to which he is accustomed. There is also a note from his wife.’

Lady Fitzgerald searched her face for a reaction. Nuala was now struggling to keep her expression plain.

‘Perhaps there is someone you know who could get the basket to him. There is nothing within it that could be seen as incendiary; it merely contains love, support and comfort from his wife. May I leave it with you?’

This time, Nuala gave a slight nod.

‘Thank you. I must also tell you that my husband and I are leaving Argideen House. We are packing our trunks and closing the house as we speak, then returning to England. After what happened to my friend’s husband two nights ago, and the burning of the Travers’ house in Timoleague, it is clearly unsafe for us to stay any longer.’

Lady Fitzgerald stood up and began to walk towards the front door. Then she turned back.

‘Goodbye, Nuala. May your side prevail and your husband be safely returned to you. This is your land after all.’

With a sad smile, Lady Fitzgerald left the cottage.

After her departure, Nuala finally found the strength to move from where she sat and turned to the basket. Her fingers inched so tentatively towards the cloth that covered it, it could have contained a Mills bomb.

‘And it might still, so,’ she muttered.

Inside were tins of things from a shop called Fortnum and Mason’s. Biscuits, Earl Grey tea leaves and a tin of salmon. There were also chocolates and a box of tiny speckled eggs that the writing on top said were apparently laid by a quail. Right at the bottom of the basket was an envelope addressed toJames Francis. Nuala turned it over and was just about to open it when she saw Christy coming across from the pub towards her cottage. Putting everything back, she covered the basket with the linen cloth, then ran to dump it in the outhouse.

‘That pie is looking fit for a king, Nuala,’ Christy said as she stepped back into the kitchen. ‘’Twill keep his lordship going for a couple of days, so.’

‘I’m sure he’s used to better than spuds and ham, but ’tis all I have.’

‘Right then, I’ll be off.’ Christy picked up the pie.

‘Is he a still a neighbour of Charlie Hurley?’

‘The fellows are moving him around.’

‘Have you seen him?’ she pressed.

‘No.’

‘Do you know who’s guarding him?’

‘The lads are taking it in turns.’

‘Is Finn one of them?’ she asked.

Christy stared at her, and even though he didn’t answer yes or no, she knew her husband was involved.

‘If you see him, say his wife loves him and is waiting for him at home.’

‘I will so, Nuala. Now you take care, and if any British patrols come a-calling, act innocent.’

‘Would I be doing anything else? I know nothing,’ she shrugged.

‘I’ll be back at the pub in half an hour, so you know where I am if you’ve any trouble. Bye now.’

‘Bye, Christy.’

He gave her a wink and she watched him limp back across to the pub, thinking how glad she felt that he was only a stone’s throw away. She didn’t know what she would have done without him.