Chapter Twenty-Two
Mr. Liam had stayed with Beaufort for a bit over a fortnight before Beaufort extended an offer of employment.
The man had both amazed him and befuddled him at the same time.
Mr. Liam’s initial evaluation of Klare Fields spoke to the dire poverty, the tattered rags worn by many of his grandmother’s tenants, the gaunt faces of those they encountered, and the dilapidated cottages.
“We planned to knock these down and rebuild,” Beaufort had said in explanation.
“I would say we should leave some of them in place, at least until the spring,” Mr. Liam countered.
“Those standing with at least three walls and those with four walls but no roof would provide protection for winter vegetable gardens. We can make them so they serve the whole community or designate them for those who are in need of a new home and all that means. Then in the spring, we might take our time to reclaim all the bricks that are not crumbling and reuse them to build sturdier homes. The work can be decided upon for whoever has the skills, but I want the men and the older boys of the family to build their own houses. No gifts from the master. This should be a shared responsibility between those who wish to remain on this land and whoever is responsible for their assistance. We sustain those who assist themselves. What do you think, my lord, of one large room with two smaller ones in the beginning.”
“We could set it up so additional rooms might be added for larger families once everyone has proper shelter. Our first mission is to have everyone on this estate know a safe place to live. One large fireplace could serve for both cooking and heating,” O’Connor suggested.
“Your father’s generation, my lord, did something similar.
It is only in the last ten years that we have built larger houses to replace some of the smaller ones. ”
Beaufort did not immediately respond, for he was one to mull over such suggestions before granting permission.
Yet, Mr. Liam continued as if his plans would know fruition.
“We should look into purchasing a third bull. It would be grand if all the cows knew at least one calf in the spring.” The man paused and looked around him.
“The estate, my lord, is on the edge of a catastrophe. Any act of nature could claim the lives of at least half of its tenants.”
To hear a stranger say what Beaufort already knew had Navan’s heart plummeting to his stomach. Too many people and too little land, his conscience warned.
“I have no choice but to carry on,” he said. “If the people do not like my orders, they may compete to earn a meager living in other places such as England or America.”
Mr. Liam observed, “I can speak from experience, nothing is guaranteed for the Irish in America. For each one who succeeds, there are five who fail. Most, there, tend a store or work a small farm equal to what you see here. Backbreaking work every day. Some do not even stop for the Sabbath.”
“Much the same in England,” Navan observed.
“Generally, the Irish are packed into the housing in the manufacturing towns and are working for pennies a day. I have witnessed small children crawl under the machines to clean its gears and claim the dust from the cotton. Dangerous work. Often, they are maimed or killed. But then another child takes his place. No mercy. No end to their existence.”
“Then let us build a better Irish community here in County Kerry,” Mr. Liam suggested.
“I have a ton of ideas, including a school for the children. My betrothed is willing to teach for those in the village and on the estate. If the Irish are going to survive, they must learn English and how to count and a large dose of our history so they will know pride in being Irish.”
The following day, Beaufort and Mr. Liam shook hands to settle their bargain.
Liam would be gone nearly a month to return to Kilkenny and marry Miss Claudine Buchanan and then prepare the shipment of their belongings to Klare Fields.
The pair would move to County Kerry, living in the dower house, which would know repairs in Mr. Liam’s absence.
O’Connor would remain at Klare Fields until Mr. Liam’s return at the end of November and would oversee Mr. Liam’s acceptance as the land agent.
Navan was a bit worried about the man’s transition to the agent position, but all of his grandmother’s cottagers that Beaufort had asked regarding their opinion of the man said they liked both his ideas and his enthusiasm.
O’Connor said he thought some of Liam’s ideas were innovative and meant to institute them at Beaufort Court.
Moreover, Navan’s grandmother liked the man, though Beaufort suspected part of Lady Klare’s approval came at the fact that Navan’s maternal grandfather’s Christian name was Liam, Lord Liam Klare.
His grandmother said she could trust a man named Liam.
The new Mrs. Liam would assist Mrs. Felix with Lady Klare’s care and conduct the lessons in English and mathematics and history three days per week and would be paid a salary for her efforts.
Navan had suggested that around his grandmother, Mrs. Liam should be addressed as Miss Claudine so as not to worry or confuse Lady Klare.
Therefore during the last week of October, Beaufort kissed his grandmother farewell, though he was not confident she understood the words he had spoken, he had left her.
Your past, he kept telling himself as he rode away from the estate, once again riding south towards Neidín.
Two days to the Kenmare River, his mind announced.
There I must wait for a ship going to Cork.
From Cork it will be a two-day crossing to Bristol and, then, three- to four-day journey to London.
At least ten days. Ten days to your future. ”
Annalise stared out the window of her bedchamber at the London street before Beaufort House.
Though it was not necessarily busy, there was a steady flow of people streaming along the corridor; yet, she truly saw none of it.
Her mind was on the rough countryside known as Klare Fields—the place where she had left her heart behind.
The autumn had claimed a hold on England’s capital, but her mind was on what was likely occurring on the Irish estate.
Has Navan found a means to move forward?
Has he hired a new land steward? Is his grandmother happier without me there?
“Whatever is happening on Klare Fields, his lordship is assuredly in the midst of it,” she said with a smile, as she looked again to another carriage passing on the street.
“Though I really know nothing of how an earl might be expected to get on, I have viewed my husband in the fields, shoulder to shoulder with his grandmother’s tenants, ankle-deep in mud, cravat tossed to the side of the road, and his hair blowing in the breeze. ”
A pang of sadness again caught her heart in its grasp.
I miss it all. Mrs. Felix’s kindness. The sweet nature of Meredith Sagran.
Dancing a waltz with Beaufort on the grassy hillside.
The bride saying it was good fortune when a stranger attends a wedding.
Sleeping with his lordship’s arms holding me to him, as if he cherished me.
Annalise felt the loneliness sneaking into her chest again.
A person can be as equally lonely in a house full of people as he is when living in isolation.
I am lonely in this house and there are several dozen within.
I miss Navan. Where he is, is where I belong.
Simple as that. It does not matter whether it is Klare Fields or Beaufort Court or Shaw Manor or this house.
She paused to present the scene on the other side of the window with a sad smile.
Or if we lived in one of the rookeries. I have never understood my mother’s choice to follow Robert Dutton when they slipped further and further into poverty.
She could have returned to the Smithfields’, but she loved my father more than she did her next breath.
I feel the same with Beaufort. Wherever Navan is…
She sighed heavily. I have fallen in love with a man many would have difficulty saying they truly knew anything real of his nature.
They all know how handsome he is. How brave he is.
How aloof he may appear, she thought as a chuckle slipped across her lips.
But he is also the man who is my protector, my friend, my lover.
Annalise’s fingers gripped the latch on the windowsill and continued to wait for something that might never happen.
“He will come soon,” Mrs. Mayo said as she carried in a tray with a teapot and cup and saucer.
“I know,” Annalise said as she forced herself to turn away from watching the street. “It has only been five weeks, and I know even a letter can take a month or more, especially this time of year, but I fear the snow will come before his lordship has set Klare Fields again to right.”
“The master will not permit such to happen,” Mrs. Mayo declared.
Annalise turned back for one final look at the street.
When the let carriage had turned onto the street where Beaufort House was located, Navan finally expelled the breath he did not realize he had been holding.
On this journey, he had thanked God repeatedly, for disaster was always off his shoulder, but it never caught up with him.
After a one-day wait at Neidín for a sailing sloop to take him to Cork City, he had managed to convince a ship’s captain leaving Cork harbor to take him onto the man’s ship.
Therefore the half day traditionally spent by a larger ship to maneuver Cork’s harbor and the estuary, both with docking at Cork and leaving the harbor, had been saved.