Chapter Nineteen
Navan studied his wife as she bravely stood along the railing watching the river’s banks.
Annalise would occasionally wave at the children as they raced alongside the river on the nearby road.
He would not mind if they set in at one of the small villages along Kenmare Bay where he and Annalise could claim some private time.
Perhaps they could recapture a bit of the magic of their first night together.
That night, she had stepped from behind the screen where she had changed out of her clothes and draped a nightgown over her.
Her hands were fisted at her side, meaning she wished to cover herself, but she made herself stand before him—a breathtakingly beautiful woman who did not know herself to be lovely.
Her hair was the color of the sun when a wispy cloud blocked some of its brilliance—a mix of blonde and red and silvery white.
She was taller than most women, but still full breasted.
His wife was sometimes gangling and other times quite graceful, but Navan only cared for how she felt in his arms, which he knew was perfection, for they had danced twice in the garden at Amgen House and twice at the ball given by the Belewards.
His offer of marriage had robbed her of her chance to discover someone better than him, but he could not—would not—think of sharing her with another.
Their first night together, she had stood before him, so close, all he had to do was to dip his head to kiss her, and so he had. Her sweetness had spread through him, like a warm glow crawling its way through his veins, searching for a place to know safety—a place in his heart.
Unlike most women who would lace their arms about his neck, Annalise had innocently wound her arms around his waist to align her body with his.
Someone else might think her more worldly than she was, but he had spent nearly two months watching her dance about a room with a broom, reenacting a moment in time in her mind.
She danced with an imaginary partner, though he knew it had been Marksman of whom she dreamed.
Navan had been so terribly jealous that he had ached with the pain of her thinking upon another, especially one of his brothers.
He had known then that he would have moved the earth off its axis if doing so would prove he was the man who should be her partner in life, even if it meant cutting off Alexander’s interest in the lady.
Thankfully, he had erred in Marksman’s interest in Annalise as a potential mate.
As he held her to him that pivotal night, her breath shuddered against his chest, the warmth of it sending desire shooting through him.
He could still feel it now as he came up behind her.
It was only then that he realized she was silent sobbing.
He caught the hair that had blown loose from her chignon and tucked it behind her ear before catching each tear to wipe it away with his thumbs.
His wife blinked several times to stop the flow of misery, but she said nothing. “What is on your mind, my lady?”
“Just that, though you mean well, you cannot stay with me. You must return to your grandmother’s side. She may appear strong, but in reality, she is struggling. Whereas…”
Navan wished for a different outcome, but he nodded his agreement. “Where do you wish to wait for my return?” he asked. “I know you do not believe I will come for you, but I cannot imagine a future where you are not at my side.”
Her bottom lip trembled as she fought back more tears. “Not with… Alexander… and Theodora… please no. Theodora would…”
“Say that she had warned you against me, while gloating over her own marriage,” Navan said with a heavy sigh. “Lord Duncan, then?” he asked. “Or Orson and Lady Emma?”
“Would they have not all returned to their home estates? Parliament ended in late July about the same time as when Alexander was shot and before my brother married,” she said softly. “Do not Duncan and the Orsons live close to Alexander?”
Navan thought about the date, realizing he should have left England long before he did, but he could not seem to leave the idea of having Annalise as his wife behind.
Therefore, he had tarried with first one excuse and then another.
“You are likely correct. I could arrange for someone to escort you to my home estate in Ireland or I could do it. It is some forty miles northeast of Cork City. Or I could hire someone to escort you to my English estate in Staffordshire. It is some five and thirty miles from your brother and Duncan if you require assistance.”
“Alexander will insist I come to stay with him. I do not wish to have more arguments on that matter,” she said without emotion. “I have yet to receive a call for forgiveness for his placing me aside so quickly.”
“Your brother does often think he knows what is best for everyone,” Navan admitted.
“I thought perhaps after he had been embarrassed by Mrs. Dove-Lyon for not listening to others that he might know a bit more humility, but, as he often does, Duncan managed to remove the sting from the obvious reprimand.”
“Your house in London?” she asked.
“I worry that you may still be in danger there,” he objected.
“I shan’t be going out in society. I know no one beyond the Duncan family,” she argued. “And surely Jacob Moran has already known a hangman’s noose by now and Caroline has been deported.”
He said in lackluster tones, “If such is your choice. Just promise if you go out, you take a footman with you. As it is late September now and will be early October when you arrive, most of the aristocracy will have returned to their estates, for there is a new election going on until the tenth of November.”
“Then they will all return to London in November?” she asked. “It seems fruitless to travel to Staffordshire and open the house there if you must soon be back in London for the new session of Parliament.”
“Who says I will be reelected to represent the Irish?” he argued.
“I say. From what I have learned of the Irish nature, they are stubbornly loyal to those they respect, and it is quite evident you are well respected among your people.” An idea struck her. “Should you not be at Beaufort Court at this time?”
“I have sent word as to my whereabouts and the reason. My man of business in the area will assure one and all that I am with family and assisting others in Ireland to the type of life they lead under my care. Though, in truth, I prefer to remain in my homeland rather than in London, but another might not fight the good fight for my countrymen that I have attempted to do.” He looked off to the passing land.
“I would wish to return to Ireland for Christmastide, for it has been many years since I have known an Irish Christmas. Yet, I must put my people before my own pleasure.”
“Christmastide,” she said wistfully. “I have not celebrated Christmastide for many years. Uncle Jacobi was not one to recognize holy days.”
“I do not imagine the man held many Christian beliefs,” he observed.
“Shall you return to London before Christmastide?” she asked.
Navan would like to promise her he would do so, but he held his tongue. Too many people had made her promises they did not keep. “I will try, but I will not guarantee my arrival before then. It would trouble me greatly if I again disappointed you. I fear I have failed you enough already.”
“Then you will again not know your father’s estate?”
“One step at a time, my girl. Beaufort Court has known more stability than has my grandfather’s estate.
I can send O’Connor back to the Court. He manages it well enough.
I foolishly thought the two of us could easily bring Klare Fields back into the fold, but I was not prepared for how run down the estate had become under the care of my mother’s wastrel of a brother. ”
“Please take care of yourself,” she said unexpectedly. “I could not bear to lose you.”
Her sweetness always caught Navan off guard. “We likely will only have a day or two in Cork City before a ship will be available for your departure. Will you permit me to treat you to some of the pleasures of the city?”
“I would cherish such memories, Navan.”
Unfortunately, neither of their hopes for actually enjoying the city as a young married couple came to pass.
A ship was available to leave the following morning.
Navan had offered to pay an older couple from London to escort Annalise to Bristol and then on to London.
The Irish Sea was more dangerous than the Atlantic Ocean as far as pirates were concerned, and he worried excessively for her safety.
So instead of spending an evening out exploring Cork City, they had dined privately in their quarters. By silent consent they had not spoken of their parting on the morrow. They simply reverted to the easiness that always rested between them when they dined together at Amgen House.
“What do you miss most about your mother?” he asked as he studied the sweetness of her features.
“She would always cut my food, no matter what it was, in the shape of diamonds,” his wife answered without hesitation.
“Then she would say, ‘We may not wear diamonds, but we can eat them.’ I hated the salty fish aboard ship, but it was so much easier to swallow when we had contests to determine who could eat the most diamonds.”
She was smiling from the memory, and Navan thought her the most beautiful woman of his acquaintance. “Same question to you,” she ordered as she sipped her wine.
Navan sighed softly. “My mother would always set aside a special treat for me each evening. Sometimes it was an extra cake or an unusual rock she had found or she would share a poem she loved.”
“Your life with her sounds so heavenly. Promise me, if we are blessed with children, that we will continue these memories and pass them on to them.”