Chapter Sixteen
Each mile theytraveled, her beloved Navan appeared more and more relaxed. He began to point out places which held fond memories for him. “I am eager for you to view Beaufort Court, as well. Unfortunately, Klare Fields has suffered over the last few years, as my grandmother has aged greatly since losing my grandfather some five years removed,” he explained.
“Then we should first set Klare Fields on its feet again,” she instructed, as they rode side by side. “Later, perhaps she will consider joining us at Beaufort Court.”
Her husband smiled upon her. “I have stolen away a genuine diamond of theton.”
As they rode, they shared stories from their pasts. He spoke of local legends, while she told him of many of the sights she had viewed while traveling with Jacob Moran. Other times, they rode in companionable silence. Ultimately, he found himself telling her some of his plans for their future. Annalise knew he had never verbalized those plans to another living soul and experienced the honor of his trust. They stayed at the homes of people he knew. Though married for nearly a fortnight, they had yet to consummate their vows; yet, their connection was proving stronger than she could have anticipated.
Finally, they begantheir climb through the Caran Mountains, with County Kerry on the other side of the ridge they rode upon. Unfortunately, Connor’s Gap proved to be in poorer condition than Navan had expected.
“Is something amiss, my lord?” she asked when she noticed his frown.
“I had hoped to reach Klare Fields today. It is on the other side of this mountain, but look at this passage. No one has bothered to clear it. Sometimes I am ashamed of my fellow Irishmen. When my grandfather was a young man, he and others in this area would have already cleared this road, but now we have raised a population who only lift a finger for personal advantage, not for the community’s good. I worry I cannot change their way of thinking, Annalise.”
“If they are not willing to follow your lead, Beaufort, you must turn your back, even if it means doing so to a loved one. You must save your family’s legacy, not the individuals,” she assured him. Her awareness of the sentiment he had shared had him wishing to catch her up and never let go.
“Hopefully, we will reach Klare Fields by nightfall,” he said instead.
Annalise could notbelieve the beauty of the countryside even in its raw roughness. That was not to say the mountains were not forbidding, especially when one’s eyes followed the line of the narrowestswitchback and realized it had not simply disappeared into the gap between the two slopes, but rather waited for her to come and greet it on the other side.
The thing that really struck her was how the knot between her husband’s shoulders had disappeared. He looked upon the land with such love and devotion, Annalise found herself more than a bit jealous. Finally, she reined in her horse beside him. “It is breathtaking, Navan,” she said softly as he studied the valley below.
“It is where I was born,” he explained in reverence. “My mother had insisted on coming to Klare Fields for her lying in. She promised my father if he would return her to her childhood home, she would present him a son for Beaufort Court. At one time, my maternal grandfather’s family owned this whole valley, but they lost large chunks of it in the rebellion in the mid-1600s. The village below is called Glendeclan.”
Annalise suddenly doubted herself and felt frightened. Would Navan’s family accept her? Beaufort could order them to serve her, but would they come to respect her? She truly knew little of overseeing an estate house.
He had initially appeared eager to reach his grandmother’s land, but, uncharacteristically, her husband’s pace slowed, though they were no longer in the mountains. His features had become hard set with disapproval.
“What are they doing?” she asked as the path took them past a dozen or more men in a nearby field.
“Cutting peat for fires,” he said solemnly.
“I should have recognized their efforts,” she said. “Many in Europe execute something similar. The war has stolen away much of their comforts.”
“No war here,” he grumbled. “Just stubbornness and clinging to the old ways.” He pointed off to the right. “Just look. I swear, Annalise, I am tempted to turn this horse around and never look back.”
“You are not made for such cruelty,” she said softly.
“Even if I set it aright, how long will it last?” he demanded.
“You must choose to assist only those who will assist themselves,” she advised.
“Your brother said something similar—said such was what Duncan had demanded of him,” Beaufort confessed.
“You have always followed Lord Duncan’s advice,” she said softly. “You were blessed to have a guardian who knew more than one way to achieve safety and security.”
“And so I will again follow his lordship’s steady advice, but do not expect me to know happiness in all my choices.”
They approached a small road which led off to the right, and Beaufort became quieter still. From the open fields, people paused in their labor, calling a greeting and bobbing a curtsey or offering a bow. Annalise held her tongue, but she wanted to ask of their all-encompassing poverty and whether this was what her husband had meant by “Irish stubbornness.” The poverty, however, proved not to be limited to that one farm, but was visible again and again as they rode closer to a manor house on a hillside.
Eventually, they reached the house and, though it was not falling down, as had been many of the cottages they had viewed, Navan noted many required repairs, as well. An elderly woman had come out on the entryway to greet them.
“Navan!” the woman called with a large smile and a wave.
Immediately, her husband kicked out of the stirrups and jumped down from the animal’s back. He hurried to scoop the woman into his embrace. Annalise was tall for a female, but the woman in Beaufort’s arms stood nearly as tall as he was. “I have brought you a gift, Grandmam,” he declared with a smile.
The woman lovingly patted his cheek. “You’re the gift for which I have wished.”
