Chapter Sixteen
Each mile they traveled, 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 the ton.”
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 began their 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 not believe 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 narrowest switchback 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.”
Beaufort smiled at Annalise. “I suppose I must send you back to Marksman, my lady.”
Though Annalise knew he meant his comment as a jest, it made her uncomfortable. “May I rest a day or two first, my lord?” she responded, more from necessity than humor.
“You stole away Lord Marksman’s love interest, boy?” his grandmother accused.
Beaufort kept his hold on his grandmother’s hand as he braced the woman’s steps. “I did not claim Marksman’s new wife, for his lordship married Duncan’s daughter, Theodora, and we have had that particular conversation multiple times.”
“We have,” the woman said as she eyed Annalise.
Beaufort finally released his grandmother’s hand and reached up to lift Annalise down from the horse. “Come, my lady.”
Annalise was still not confident how to respond, but she permitted him his stratagems.
“Grandmam, this is my wife, Lady Annalise Beaufort,” he said with more tentativeness than Annalise would have preferred. “Lady Beaufort is Marksman’s sister.”
“Did you seduce the girl, Navan?” the woman demanded. “Were you caught in her bed? You said nothing of courting her in your last letter some three months back.”
“I was not,” Beaufort declared, but he no longer held Annalise’s hand. “I had originally spoken to Marksman regarding courting Annalise in the spring.”
“Has she a fortune?” the woman asked.
“Thirty thousand,” Beaufort explained.
Annalise knew she had frowned. All along she had thought Beaufort had proposed from affection, and, naturally, for her protection.
Now she was not as assured. How did Beaufort know she was to receive so much?
She had never discussed her dowry with Alexander.
They had only spoken of the endowment she would receive at age five and twenty, but never a mention of a dowry being offered for her hand in marriage. Why was she not told?
“I suppose it must do,” his grandmother remarked.
“Are the funds why we married so fast, my lord?” Annalise demanded.
“You know it is not,” Beaufort declared. “Grandmam, I have told you repeatedly that I am considered quite wealthy.” He looked pleadingly to Annalise. “Let us go inside and settle in. Later, if the two of you do not mind, I would like time to speak to Medi O’Connor.”
Annalise minded, but what could she say? “Could I not go with you? I would love to explore the area.”
He caught her shoulders with both hands as if to force her to hear him. “I am counting on you to determine what work must be accomplished at Klare Fields Manor.”
She shot a quick glance to Lady Klare and attempted not to frown. “Could I not do so beginning tomorrow? We both have ridden hard these last five days.”
Lady Klare cleared her throat in obvious displeasure with Annalise’s response.
“The English be weak,” she murmured under her breath, but loud enough to be heard.
The woman told Navan, “Sean McArthur is marrying Meredith Sagran tomorrow. I made promises we’d not be in the fields and all about could attend. ”
Annalise knew Beaufort was not happy with his grandmother’s edicts. “I suppose I have little choice in the matter.” To Annalise, he said, “Might you understand if I attempt to learn what I may this afternoon?”
She did not understand, but Beaufort’s expression was so downtrodden, there was little else she could do but agree. “Not too late, Navan. You have had little rest on this journey, and I shall not have you know exhaustion.”
He smiled upon her, and, despite their situation, Annalise’s heart knew a bit of happiness. “You are quite remarkable, Lady Beaufort.”
She was glad for his praise, despite another huff of dissatisfaction from his grandmother.