The town of
So Captain Gerard Seveny
came to be stationed at Fermoy and the life of the
garrison proved very tolerable to his young, beautiful, company-loving wife.
On this bright autumn morning, Captain
Gerard Seveny rode out of Fermoy
at the head of a small company. Though the ride was only a routine exercise,
the Captain was alert to note anything unusual. These were uncertain times,
rife with rumour, and Seveny was a serious officer
intent on duty. The younger son of a knight, with no prospects beyond what he
could make for himself, he was determined to prosper in his army career. He had
defied both his parents and his own ambition in marrying the beautiful,
accomplished, dowerless Lucunda O’Shaughnessy. This
he did not regret; he loved Lucy for her own sweet sake and her beauty was his
pride and spur.
The sight of the sea-green coach was a
welcome surprise; few surprises leavened the monotony of his routine, the coach
presented no obvious risk or challenge; it was purely out of curiosity that he
signalled it to a halt; as a last excuse, he could search for arms.
Caroline alighted at once, and
approached him.
“Captain Seveny,
I have the honour of your acquaintance,” she said. “May I have the pleasure of
a word with you?”
Seveny drew aside, out of earshot of his
company.
“Who .....” he began.
“We met in rather different
circumstances ..... and I was differently dressed. I
was one of Lucy's bridesmaids.”
Dismounting at once Seveny grasped her hand, his face lighting with pleasure.
“Caroline!” he exclaimed, “what a
surprise for Lucy. She will go wild with joy.”
“And you, Gerard?”
“I too am delighted. But why the extraordinary attire?”
“For safe travel in wild country,” she
replied mischievously.
“Not wild country hereabouts. But I
understand. You are very beautiful.”
With some instructions to his men, he
detached himself from the company and acting as an outrider, led the coach into
town. The curious looks which greeted their entry, somewhat embarrassed him. If
there was anything he detested, it was to be eyed curiously. Lucy drew
attention wherever they went, she enjoyed admiration, but seldom exceeded
propriety in attracting it. This girl was as lovely as her sister, and
obviously more wayward ..... another
responsibility.
The comfortable house in
“Darling Caroline!” Lucy exclaimed, “how
enchanting to see you again! How beautiful you have grown! But alas, whatever
became of your lovely hair? And why so strangely dressed?”
“I'll explain when .....”
“Of course, but do come inside at
once. Ah, how splendid that you have brought your maid. It is Maureen, if I am
not mistaken. Come in, child. Another pair of hands will be most welcome in
this establishment. Gerard's income does not run to many servants. Ah, here
comes Annie, my own personal maid. She will take care of Maureen. Gerard will
see to your coachman.”
With a swift glance, she took in Hugh
Ro, massive, sun-bronzed, fiery-headed. His
intelligent grey eyes and aloof, proud bearing were not lost on her.
“I say,” she said, breathlessly as she
ushered Caroline into the hall, “what a noble savage ..... wherever
did you find him?”
“Actually it was he who found me. Aunt
Rose sent him to bring me home to Moybranach. We
turned south instead.”
“Oh, I am so glad! Aunt Rose will be
furious.”
“No doubt she will. I should leave her
to fume, but, for the sake of others, I must write at once and explain.”
“Of course ..... shortly
..... when you have changed and breakfasted.
Then we'll have simply all day to talk. Oh, I can't wait to ask questions?”
Seveny was anxious to get the coach out of
sight. He directed Hugh Ro to the stable yard and, with a word to his own
servant, wheeled around and rode out of town after his men. His mind was in a turmoil. Why had he, who hated whisperings behind hands,
head noddings behind lace curtains, been so
embarrassingly exposed? The only wild, rebellious thing he had done in all his
solemn, dutiful life was to marry the beautiful Lucinda. Was he never to be
free of the consequences: the unpredictable behaviour of her sister, Gwendaline, abrupt arrivals in ornate coaches with too
spectacular coachmen, a startlingly beautiful young sister who travelled abroad
in daylight in unseemly dress?
Then he remembered Lucy, and smiled
resignedly. But Caroline had caught a glimpse of the frown on his face. It made
her feel uneasy.
“Your marriage is going well, Lucy?”
she asked obliquely. Lucinda's sweet, sensuous face took on an expression of
brittle animation.
“Of course,” she replied. “As well as
marriages usually go, Caroline ..... better than I
expected, indeed; our union was not a story-book romance.”
“You looked lovely as a bride in love.
Weren't you, Lucy?”
“I was happy ..... still
am. Gerard and I suit each other. I think I understand expedience better than
he, poor lamb. We both wanted freedom, I think.”
“Freedom?”
“How I longed to escape Aunt
Millicent, especially after Gwen went to companion Theodosia Brereton. You must
know how she wants to arrange other people's lives. Lah,
I'd have been married to any title on earth with a man of any age or shape
attached if she had had her way. You should have seen the creatures! And the
creature Gerard's family would have had him marry .....
or her money to make up for his being a younger son
with no prospects. Why, my dear, we were perfectly matched. We needed each
other. We are happy in our way. You shall see.”
The little bedroom into which Lucy
showed her overlooked the stable yard and the fields, trees and hills beyond.
In itself strictly functional, yet Lucy had transformed its stark simplicity
with her own skill, making it a bower of pale pastels, soft rugs, satin drapes
and dressing perquisites. In this frothy, fragile illusion, Caroline looked and
felt out of place as a savage queen. Lucy noticed her dismay.
“Oh darling,” she giggled, hugging her
again, “please don't look so mournful. Of course it's different from Dunalla. This is a young lady's room and that is what you
shall be from now on. But where are your things?”
Caroline shook her head. She had
nothing but the clothes she wore and the small bundle containing her blue silk
dress and slippers ..... and
the sealskin. She unwrapped the blue dress for Lucy's
inspection.
“Oh dear child,” Lucy said playfully, “how
dreadfully we have neglected you. But, as it happens, I have just received some
dresses from
She rushed off to fetch the dress.
Green velvet! Caroline was a little girl again, sitting on a table, swinging
her legs, delighting in her new French dress, her silver buckles, the sensuous
luxury of delicate fabrics. The frame of wood-stiff tall women had gone ..... their argument. Only
Lucy, cooing like a dove:
“Perfect! Absolutely perfect! How
beautiful you look. Why, you will be the toast of Fermoy,
I declare ..... the envy of
all the dumpling wives and daughters. How proud I shall be of my little sister!”
“My hair .....”
“Annie will work wonders. She was
lady's maid to a very great lady ..... a great beauty in her time. You'll be surprised.”
“She is old, then?”
“No, quite youngish still, but very
competent.
She will teach Maureen all she needs to know. But darling, you must be hungry.
I'll arrange for a light meal and then you can rest. And while you rest, I'll
see if we cannot improvise a little entertainment for this evening. I want to
show you off to the townsfolk. And to the ladies of the
garrison. Unfortunately there is little talent here. Some garrisons
stage quite professional entertainments. Ours is small yet of course. The local
worthies include a few who can sing or recite. I play the pianoforte fairly
well. Do you sing, or play anything?”
“I play the Irish harp. Father used to
like my music.”
Lucinda clapped her hands.
“Splendid! That will be a graceful
introduction. I think a woman seated at the harp is most beguiling. You have
such lovely, slender hands too. I can see those fingers caressing the strings,
and the men falling completely under your spell. How envious the Potts girls
will be, and Miss Emmaline Baglet,
and the doctor's ambitious wife! But you'll win them too, never fear.”
“Have you ever any real musicians to
entertain?”
“Sometimes a strolling minstrel
arrives in town; we had a blind harper a few weeks
ago. A trio of pipers was brought over from Kerry on one occasion and we have
had a string quartette from
“Hugh Ro sings beautifully. He
composes some of his songs.”
“Your noble savage. Do you think he would oblige tonight?”
“I'm not sure. His songs might not
suit polite company. They are mostly in the Irish or set to Irish airs.”
“But, how delightfully quaint! There is quite an interest in such
old stuff now. I told you about the blind harper and
the Kerry pipers. They were much appreciated. Irish things have grown quite
fashionable since they are no longer outlawed.”
Caroline was a little perturbed by the
thought that Hugh Ro might be made a quaint exhibit for the merchants of Fermoy. She frowned in perplexity.
“I think Hugh Ro will be leaving. He
must bring back the horses or Aunt Rose will raise the hue and cry. If he
should be suspected of theft .....”
“We must prevent that. I'll have a
word with our local magistrate ..... and I'll write to Aunt Rose at once. Perhaps we could keep
the horses, if Uncle Drynan is willing to sell, and
Gerard able to buy. I doubt the latter; my husband always pleads poverty to my
wilder schemes.”
Caroline threw her arms about her
sister.
“You really are wonderfully kind,
Lucy. Poor Hugh Ro will be glad to have his responsibility taken from him. He
took a great risk for my sake. I'd rather he had not to face Aunt Rose. Even
yet she might decide to take the law on him, and I not there to explain. You're
an old wise married woman; she will heed what you say.”
“It seems to me,” Lucinda said
quizzically, “that you are half in love with this savage. Romantic, I grant
you. But how improper. You must meet some eligible
men. Once married, you will be less under surveillance.”
Caroline laughed, patting Lucinda's
cheek.
“You seem to think I have met nobody.
Well I have. I have met, at least one very eligible man.”
“You're in love, then?”
“Maybe. I cannot be sure. There are so many
ways of loving.”
“You really are a remarkable civilized
girl. I am to have an easier task than I might have hoped. Why, you are
launched already, if I read you aright; nothing to learn but a few airs and
graces.”
“Accomplishments ..... or tricks of the trade?”
“Both ..... little
things, like how to disseminate. It doesn't do to be quite as frank as you are.
Of course, there are practical things ..... like dancing.”
“I danced at your wedding, Lucy. I danced ..... but I could do with
some lessons.”
“I shall engage a dancing master
immediately. And I think I can give you a few lessons in poise myself. Then,
with your looks and Annie's help, you will ready for any occasion
..... even the ball at