"I'm in ignorance of these things," she said wearily. "That won't matter in the least. You must place yourself in the hands of your counsel and say whatever he tells you to. I'll arrange everything myself. The important thing, the only thing that matters is you. You must be very strong, because even though I am with you, I cannot physically stand beside you. They mustn't find out about us or you will be crucified. "
The truth of his words hit her. "I shouldn't have come here tonight."
He shook his head impatiently. "You came to Jeffrey and Julia. Jeffrey and Katie will take you home later and he will be our go-between. All our messages to each other can be carried through Jeffrey. Trust no one else," he cautioned. His eyes lingered on her belly. "How is everything with our baby?"
She reached for his hand and placed it beneath her heart.
The child kicked beneath his fingers and he was filled with awe at the mystery of it all. He pulled up another easy chair beside her. He sat back, keeping hold of her hand. "Have a little rest. Let me be with you for a while. Heaven knows when we'll be able to be together again."
Chapter 29
The autopsy concluded death was caused by one gunshot to the brain. Whether self-inflicted or otherwise could not be determined. Kitty was served with a paper notifying her the inquest would be three days hence. London was agog with the news. Reporters from the newspapers waited outside her front door to glean lurid details for their dailies. Her counsel assured her they would delve into Charles' business affairs and also the state of his health to find a valid reason for his suicide. A reason must be found, she 'was assured, so that no suspicions could fall upon her. He gave her advice on what to say, what to wear, her comportment and so forth.
"It's all so contrived, like staging a play," she protested wearily.
"That's exactly how you must think of it. You must catch their sympathy and hold it. You must awaken a desire to protect you, not only in the magistrate, but also in every human being who is there to observe you. They are your audience, your Grace, and they will judge you."
She ached for Patrick. His notes were cold comfort when she needed his physical strength to lean upon.
Her counsel came again the following day. "We have nothing to go on. The duke's business affairs were above question. His private life has no sordid affairs that would suggest any form of blackmail," he said with disappointment.
"I should hope not!" she snapped.
"His doctor gives him a clean bill of health; no fatal illnesses lurking about. It's really too bad."
"Jeffrey, the man offends me. He wants to walk all over Charles' memory with muddy footprints. I must speak with Patrick," she demanded.
"He's absolutely adamant on that point, Kitty. He will not jeopardize your reputation by coming to you," said Jeffrey. "He's right, Kitty; it's not just your reputation that's at stake here, it could be your life! Patrick will have my hide for frightening you this way, but if they don't find just cause for suicide, they could start looking for a motive for murder!"
The day before the inquest Charles' doctor came to the house. Counsel met him. "I've been asked to testify regardding Charles' health. Could I speak with her Grace?"
Counsel said, "I am in charge of the case, so it would be best to communicate any information you have with me."
"Well, there is one thing I could say that probably would help you, but it's rather indelicate and I'd like her Grace's permission before I divulge such personal matters."
"Speak up, man. What have you got? It may save her from a murder charge!"
"Well, I treated him for impotence."
"That's it! Good man, good man. Nothing like the spice of bedroom details. We'll have them eating out of our hands."
In the back of her mind, Kitty thought that when the day of the inquest arrived, the birth of her child would mercifully prevent her from being there. The day dawned and with it came the realization that the ordeal must be faced. Jeffrey and a much-subdued Julia arrived early to accompany her to court. Her counsel was already there, giving her last-minute advice.
"It's not seemly for a lady in your condition to be seen in public. Thankfully, the crinoline will help to disguise your condition. Keep your cloak on at all times. Now, remember to keep your eyes down; you must be meek-a supplicant. The 'tragic widow' is a most sympathetic figure."
“I shall be the pathetic creature you have ordered me to be, even though it goes against the grain," she flashed.
As she entered the courtroom, a wave of whispers swept around the room. She was surprised to see the room filled mostly with men. There were some newspaper reporters but largely they were Charles' peers. Her eyes searched the crowd for Patrick. She was surprised when he ignored her and gave his attention to the smartly dressed woman on his right.
The inquest opened with a few words which the coroner addressed to the jury. "We are here to determine the cause and circumstances of the death of Sir Charles Drago, ninth Duke of Manchester. Whether it was suicide or whether it was a greater crime."
The first witness, Charles' business secretary, was called and sworn in. He testified that all monies collected for the Port of London were accounted for and that all business matters were in complete order, down to the last detail. Otis Grant-Stewart testified how he discovered the body, and the results of the autopsy were officially put into the record of the inquest.
Then came a succession of servants, ending with Katie, who testified that they heard the gunshot. Katie perjured herself by claiming she saw her mistress run to the bedroom door after the shot was fired.
Charles' doctor was brought to the stand to testify about the state of his patient's health. When he concluded that it was excellent, a murmur went around the court.
Kitty kept her eyes lowered. She tried to pay attention to every word spoken but she caught her mind drifting over and over again. She wondered when her labor would begin and hoped she had done right engaging a midwife rather than a doctor. Her mind snapped back as her counsel asked Charles' doctor about treating him for impotence. The room was hushed. The doctor was asked to step down. Before she could utter a protest, she heard her name called out and she moved forward as one in a trance.
"I call on Kathleen Drago, Dowager Duchess of Manchester, who will corroborate the testimony just given."
"Repeat after me: I swear by Almighty God that the evidence I give shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth."
She placed her hand upon the Bible and so swore.
Kitty looked about the room at the avid faces. It was the one thing Charles had dreaded; He had made her promise, right after their marriage, never to divulge his secret. She never had, not even to Patrick. She knew she would always carry the burden of guilt for Charles taking his life. She had betrayed him in life, but before Christ she would not betray him in death!
When the question of his impotence was put to her, she stood and threw off the cloak. Her pregnancy was revealed to every eye. Gone was the meek figure. It had been replaced by a fiery woman who spoke with passion. "That's absolutely ridiculous," she said triumphantly. "We made love almost every night!" A roar went up in the courtroom and the judge had to bang his gavel repeatedly to bring order. Kitty sat back down. She ignored her counsel and instead turned to the judge and said, "My husband was cleaning his gun when it went off. It was an accident, pure and simple."
They broke off for lunch at this dramatic point. Patrick did not meet her eyes. She saw him slip from the back of the room with the woman on his arm.
Julia flashed her a pleased look that filled Kitty with dread, but Jeffrey patted her hand. "Not to worry, that's the judge's wife."
The verdict of accidental death came as a surprise to none after the morning's dramatic testimony. An emotionally drained Kitty went home to await the birth of her child, while Londoners read of the "dragon lady" and the "notorious duchess."
Chapter 30
Her pains began around ten o'clock at night. Katie said to Mimi, "I'll sta
y with her; you fetch the midwife."
By midnight, hard labor had begun in earnest, but no matter how they struggled, the child would not make its appearance. The midwife refused to panic. These things took time and ran their own course, and the lady was not built for childbearing.
Katie put on her cloak and slipped out the doorway. It was just striking one when she returned, a tall, dark figure close upon her heels.
Arguing voices came to Kitty through a haze of pain. The deep timbre of Patrick's voice started to curse and she called out to the midwife, "He's no respecter of persons; let him come to me."
He knelt beside her, taking her hands. It lifted her heart to see how deeply concerned he was. He stayed beside her for four hours. When the child finally was born, Patrick was dizzy with relief.
"We have a daughter," he whispered tenderly. Kitty was too exhausted to speak. He turned to the midwife. "How long will she be abed"
"A lying-in is always a fortnight," she told him.
He turned back to Kitty. "One month, one month from today I'll return. I'll come boldly for all the world to see; no more climbing the back stairs for me, Kitty."
She closed her eyes and nodded her understanding.
***
Flowers came every morning especially chosen by Patrick. There was no need for any card; she knew who sent them.
A full month hadn't quite gone by when he came striding into her private sitting room. She had just finished feeding her daughter and was rocking her gently to sleep. The energy he brought into the room with him almost made the air crackle. "Kitty, it's all settled," he said, laughing, as he waved a telegram in the air. "You're looking at the new president and chairman of the board of Hind of New York. If you don't like New York, we can live in Philadelphia. The gossip won't follow us to America. We'll be married before we sail. When can you be ready?" She watched him talking and laughing. How handsome he was! Patrick was at his best when he was in control, directing everyone about him like some young god.
Kitty said very quietly, "I'm not going."
He stopped laughing and turned to look at her. "Not going?" he questioned her.
She sighed deeply, reaching for words that would make her explanation less painful for him. "A trip across the Atlantic would kill me right now," she said sadly.
He looked closely at the small, black-clad figure before him. Her cheekbones stood out so prominently, they looked like they might pierce the skin. Her wrists were so fine-boned they were skeletal. He knew her words told the truth. He was at a loss for the first time in his life.
"I'm going home," she said simply.
He knew he could rave and shout until he was blue in the face. It would alter nothing! Her mind was made up. He crumpled the telegram into his pocket, bent down to place a kiss on his daughter's brow and left quietly.
It took a week to pack the belongings she wanted shipped to Ireland. She put the huge house in the hands of her bankers and asked them to sell it for her. Katie and Mimi both agreed to accompany her to Windrush.
A small cavalcade stepped off the boat train on an evening in July. A chilly breeze blew off the Irish Sea, making Kitty thankful she had worn her furs. She carried her baby daughter, while her son, grown out of babyhood, walked beside her. Two young women followed, each struggling with a heavy case. Kitty tried to hail a porter to transport their luggage onto the overnight ferry, but before she had given him her instructions, two men strode purposefully along the platform toward them. She looked up startled as the tall figures loomed out of the darkness.
"Patrick!" she gasped.
He tipped his hat and swept her a mocking bow. He handed the cases to the man standing beside him. He took the baby from Kitty and placed her in Katie's arms; then he swung Charles Patrick to his shoulder and commanded, "Follow me!" Kitty had to walk very quickly to keep up with him, but her heart was beating wildly and singing at the intoxicating nearness of the man.
"Madame, there are some women who are willing to sacrifice everything and follow a man to the ends of the earth. Ah, but how many men do you know capable of such a grand gesture? None, you say? Ah, there you are wrong, madame! Permit me the luxury of the supreme gesture." He took his letter of appointment and contracts from his pocket and tossed them into the wind.
"But, Patrick," she protested, "what do you intend to do?"
"Marry you, madame, before you elude me again," he said with a wolfish grin.
They went up the gangplank of his ship, and he swung his son to the deck. '·'It's time our children were in bed. We'll see to them together tonight," he said with relish.
The maids soon were settled in their cabins and the children fed and put to bed. The anchor was lifted. They were going home!
Patrick picked up Kitty's furs and wrapped them about her closely. Then he took her hand and led her out on deck. "This has to be done by moonlight," he explained. He took her into his arms and bent to claim her lips, shuddering with his great longing. "Kitty, will you marry me?" he asked humbly.
Soft and tender-eyed and sighing, she answered, "Yes, my darling. When?"
"Now! The captain awaits us in the cabin below."
When they were finally alone, getting ready for bed, she was still breathless. He had again swept her off her feet, giving her little time to decide her fate. He could not get enough of looking at her. When she was ready for bed, he stooped and caught her in his arms, lifting her against his heart. Ecstasy thrilled within her. At long last she had her heart's desire. Under the covers he came close against her back and gathered her in his embrace.
"Patrick, what will you do now that you have thrown your career away?"
He nibbled the silky flesh of her shoulder. "I don't know.
Go into politics, perhaps, start another business, I don't know. And I don't care. Right now all I care about is you." The faint, sweet perfume of her hair stole to him. "What have you decided to name our daughter?" he asked, trying to control his mounting desire.
"I'm going to call her Pagan! Pagan O'Reilly!"
"Good God, kitten, a name like that is just asking for trouble."
She slipped around in his arms to face him. "I do always ask for trouble, don't I?" She kissed him seductively. "And you always manage to give it to me."
Virginia Henley, Enticed
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