Chapter 23 #2
I nodded. “I’m also going to head down to the town and try to sell my shoes again.”
It was market day. After fetching water and digging a shallow grave, I pulled my good leather shoes from their dry hiding place and walked, barefoot, to the town. I could sit back and wait for the men no longer.
Mam wasn’t ready to part with Crofton’s corpse just yet, and I hadn’t the strength to fight with her.
If I’d held my own babe even once, I wouldn’t have let go either, and there wasn’t a physician or midwife in the world who would’ve been able to wrest him from my arms.
A hush had descended over the usual bustle of Kilrush, and market offerings were scarce.
Fewer vendors willing to make the trip in these uncertain times, no doubt.
With the blight, those who had coin spent every penny they could muster on bulk grain to feed large families for as long as possible.
Dainties and fancies would wait until times were better.
“Mistress O’Shaughnessy?” The shocked question jerked me around, and I came face-to-face with Mrs. Moran, the fish seller. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! I thought I’d never see ye again!”
A quick glance at my clothes brought a flush to my cheeks.
Grime and dirt caked the skirt, and the rest was soaked through with sweat.
I hadn’t been able to wash—myself, or the clothes—since our eviction.
My hair was in a bad state too, but I’d managed to tame it into a braid before setting off for town.
“Hello, Mrs. Moran,” I said, my voice hoarse from general misery. “Soft day.”
Mrs. Moran pursed her lips, then glanced around the market.
“Here,” she said, ducking beneath her stall, emerging a few moments later with a package wrapped in a clean rag. “If I’d known I’d meet ye, I’d have more prepared. We heard of yer father’s eviction all the way at the island, but I thought ye’d be long gone, what with the accusation.”
I stood frozen, staring at the little package, and the briny water soaked through it.
Mrs. Moran followed my gaze and sighed. “It’s not a lot, I know. But it doesn’t look like I’ll have much luck selling today, and ye likely need it more than most.”
Tears swam in my eyes, and Mrs. Moran stepped around her stall to close the distance between us.
“I don’t know what happened, but it must have been serious to evict a land agent and block the family from doing any business in town.
Take this to yer family; they must be starving.
The babe too. Yer mam has a new babe, doesn’t she? ”
“Dead,” I whispered, staring at the package in Mrs. Moran’s hands. “He’s dead, and the rest are ill.”
Mrs. Moran shoved the package into my hands with a cluck of her tongue, then hurried back to her stall to pluck something from the large bag she used for personal effects on the estuary crossing.
“Here. I have it on me for the pain in me knees,” she said, placing a large vial in my skirt pocket. “Only a drop to ease the pain, mind. Too much and ye risk doing more harm than good. It’s not much by way of medicine, but it could be a help, and I can fetch more before I leave.”
I glanced at her and noticed the burn of coming tears reddening her eyes.
“The light of Heaven to the babe and yer mam,” she said, making the sign of the cross. “I’ll keep ye in my prayers, but wish I could do more.”
I nodded, unable to muster more than a polite, “Thank you.”
And with that, I turned, the package held tight in my hands.
“Good luck, Mistress O’Shaughnessy,” Mrs. Moran called, but I kept walking.
One foot before the other.
Head down, lest anyone else recognize me.
News I’d been spotted in town would still reach his lordship’s ears, regardless, and I wondered if Da would disapprove that I’d risked recognition by making another desperate run to sell the shoes.
Where was Da? My guess was Lissycasey. Surely that was far enough away to ensure some kind of assistance?
With each step, the weight of the shoes, and Mrs. Moran’s gifts, settled heavy on my heart. There was still so much kindness in people, so much love. I hoped she sold all her fish and that her family still prospered.
I should’ve enquired. I should’ve left her with a blessing. I should’ve—
“Ooft.” The exclamation rushed past my lips as I walked into someone, almost losing my balance. But the stranger’s hands shot out to grab my upper arms and steadied me. “Apologies.”
“Maggie?”
I froze as the gentle timbre of a voice as familiar as my own washed over me, and I dared glance upward.
From shined leather shoes and fine, full-length trousers. From waistcoat, to tailed overcoat, to the stovepipe hat that stretched above my once-beloved’s face.
And something inside, some tiny shred of dignity and pride, shattered.
“T-Teddy?” His name was a breath, an oath, a prayer. But I regretted the greeting in an instant as I finally absorbed the wide-eyed horror that twisted his handsome features.
“Wh-what?” he muttered, his gaze drinking in every ragged inch of me before settling on my dirtied face. “Y-you’re … is that you? How could this be?”
I stared at him, both brows raised, as his questions rattled around my brain before finding purchase. He thought me far away, fleeing from the lies he’d turned into a declaration in order to be rid of me. Anger swelled in my breast, and before I could think, I spat a question of my own.
“How is your wife?”
I stepped around him, spine straight, and strode away.
One step, two, three.
Teddy’s hand clamped down on my shoulder, and he spun me around.
“How?” he demanded, voice surer than it was a moment before. “You left—”
“I must have truly meant nothing to you.” With a shrug, I held up the package in my hand. “If you don’t mind, I must away. My family waits.”
“No!” he exclaimed, eyes wild as he stepped forward, but I jerked from his grasp and took a step back. “We must speak. Tonight. The summerhouse. I … I’m so very confused right now—”
After everything that had happened that night at the summerhouse, he—and his family—could jump off a cliff for all I cared.
Why had he done such things? How could he do such things?
Teddy was dead to me, and likely had been from the moment our child had passed away … I just needed to see him to realize it.
“Goodbye, Teddy,” I said, then shook my head and stared him in the eyes. “Nay. Goodbye, Young Master Theodore. Forgive me. For a moment, I forgot to whom I speak.”
Head up. Step after step.
I didn’t crumble until I was safely away.
Until I had made my way through the winding trees to reach our scalp.
Until the rumble of male voices set my teeth on edge—had Teddy sent bailiffs already?
Wary, I slowly approached, to find two men kneeling before the fresh mound of baby Crofton’s grave.
Da and Michael.