Chapter Eighteen
“He meant mesome sort of evil,” Annalise declared when it appeared few within believed her. She had reached the kitchen and safety just as the man stumbled into the kitchen’s sparse garden in his pursuit to overtake her.
“Paddy is not the brightest of Mr. Tanner’s boys,” Mrs. Felix assured, though the woman appeared uncomfortable.
“Likely at Lady Kare’s suggestion,” Annalise accused. “I called out for her twice, but she did not respond. Yet, there she was standing along the garden wall.”
“Her ladyship said she heard you and came to investigate,” Mrs. Felix shared, but the woman’s expression spoke of her own skepticism.
“Yet, she never called out to me or the man,” Annalise countered. “Nor did she follow me into the kitchen to learn if I had been harmed! Whether she wishes it so or not, I am her granddaughter! Beaufort’s wife!” She stood suddenly to make her point. “I cannot remain in this house alone with her! I wish to leave. In fact, I wish I had never come to this place! Might you arrange a guide to return me to Cork?”
“Do you not think you should wait for Lord Beaufort’s return?” Mrs. Felix reasoned.
“Dare I?” Annalise demanded. “His lordship thought to be gone for a week, perhaps longer. I do not wish to chance staying at the manor house. Is there no one I could trust to see me to Cork City?” She easily recalled her argument with Beaufort before he left the estate and her behind. Would he care if something happened to her?
“I imagine I could convince my late husband’s brother to see you safe on your journey, but might I suggest you travel first to Neidín. His lordship may be found there, and you might discuss your concerns with him before you leave Ireland. It is my opinion that Lord Beaufort would greatly grieve your absence. Meanwhile, I have asked that Patrick Tanner be kept under lock and key until his lordship might speak to the man. As for traveling, it cannot happen until after services tomorrow. I shall stay with you this evening to avoid any concerns you may have.”
Annalise would prefer to leave immediately, but she nodded her head to accept the woman’s offer.
Mr. Jasper Felixjudiciously brought his fifteen-year-old daughter with him, for the journey would take two days. Annalise had no money of her own, but Mrs. Felix claimed a small bag of coins from the estate’s safe to present to Annalise for the full journey and to her brother-in-marriage and his daughter for their efforts.
Although her heart was breaking, Annalise attempted to be kind to the Felixes for their trouble. She chatted with the daughter, who used a mix of Irish Gaelic and English and asked a great number of questions regarding life in London and what her Irish relations may be experiencing. Annalise was careful not to encourage the girl to join an uncle in London, for though she had no direct experience with the fateof the Irish, she had listened to her husband’s stories and even those at Duncan Place and knew no one should suffer thusly.
Finally, on the second day of their journey, they reached the town of Neidín, and she came to understand what Mr. Felix had explained previously. “Regularly,” the man said in broken English, “there be a ship in the waters outside Cork City that be able to sail up the Kenmare River to Neidín.”
“Then there was an easier means to reach Klare Fields?” she asked, realizing, at last, her initial crossing had been as much of a test of her courage as it had been a necessity to reach Klare Manor.
“Not that there be a regular schedule of them ships,” Mr. Felix warned.
The man had barely assisted her to the ground before Annalise turned to view her husband quick stepping along a wooden walkway to reach her. “My lady!” he called. “I did not expect you to follow me to Neidín.”
Annalise nodded to Mr. Felix, who caught his daughter’s arm to lead the girl from earshot. These would be some of the hardest words Annalise would ever be required to speak. “In case I did not encounter you here, I left a letter on your bed at the manor house to explain what has occurred.”
“Occurred?” he asked with a frown. “I do not understand.”
“Is there not some place more private for us to speak?” she asked, aware that their conversation could not take place on a public street.
“Naturally,” he responded in clipped tones, ones indicating his displeasure, and, immediately, Annalise knew their conversation would not go well. Her husband’s constant fear of betrayal would likely permanently separate them. Even so, she could not return to Klare Manor. “I am sharing a room with Medi, but we must find quarters for you and Mr. Felix and his daughter. Come along.” He caught her arm and led her towards a small inn.
Inside, he said to the man who rushed over to greet them. “Mr.Ahrens, this is my lady wife. We will require a separate room for O’Connor and Mr. Felix, as well as a safe place for Mr. Felix’s daughter.”
“Yes, my lord,” the man said, but he appeared quite befuddled by her husband’s instructions.
At length, they stood alone in a cramped room, strewn with clothing and empty cups and glasses. “Now, tell me what has occurred,” he demanded.
Annalise swallowed a deep breath before beginning her explanation. “As I said below, there is a letter in your quarters describing what has happened to bring me here.” As she might with her uncle, she took a few steps outside of his reach. Annalise worried excessively for whether Beaufort would believe her or not: Her gut said he would not. She studied his beloved features, for her husband was the most handsome man she had ever encountered, but he carried about a bruised history, just as did she.
“Yesterday,” she began, “after addressing some sort of misunderstanding with which rooms required the new plaster…”
“What misunderstanding?” he demanded.
“Several men were plastering a wall in a room not meant to be a part of the ordered repairs,” she explained with as much patience as she could muster, for she had no doubt her husband would not be happy with her tale. “Therefore, Mrs. Felix and I had to permit them to finish that wall, but more plaster powder will now be required. Mr. Felix has my list of additional supplies required for the manor house.”
“I do not understand why my grandmother would order work not approved by either me or you. Nor do I understand why you do not have the list of required items?” he questioned.
“Because I was not confident I would find you here,” she said simply.
“I am still dumbfounded. This is where I said I was traveling. Did you not trust my word?”
