It was the
darkness just before dawn broke sleepily on the horizon. Soon, if she looked
back, she would see the soft glow of the morning sun swell into the sky beyond
the hills. The horses trotted on the cobbled path towards the city, sniffing
the air, snorting in protest as Tommy urged them to go faster. They found their
way in the dark, keeping the cart flush over the camber of the road, with the
wheels treading the elongated valley caused by years of wagons traveling the
road to
Tommy was quiet, but
occasionally she would glance at him. He appeared deep in thought. He was just
as sad to be leaving, but he wanted to follow his heart, and his heart was in
the
She tried
to keep her thoughts focused on the surroundings, on the darkness, on Tommy, on
their journey. They had passed a milestone that indicated they still had three
miles to go. Only by the light of the fading moon could she discern it as her
eyes grew accustomed to the dark.
"Where
are we staying in
"A
small inn," Tommy had replied earlier. "Don't worry. The cattleship
leaves at 10 o'clock. We'll be too early then."
"My two sisters
and your sister live in
"Aye.
They will come to Catriona's house first, or your sisters'."
"I
understand." After that, their conversation had been stilted until it
dried up completely, each one sunk in their thoughts. She was content to follow
Tommy's suggestions. He had planned everything, down to where they'd stay, how
long they'd wait until they left
She hoped fervently
that nothing would happen when they got to the city. She was most afraid of
Justin.
Last
night...
Katie shook her
head, turned her face to the sky and felt the cool air wash over her face. Her
scalding tears, the memories of last night, blotted the beauty of the
landscape.
Her papa's
words, "We've decided the wedding will be tomorrow..."
Her heart had
contracted and she had thought that she would faint from the shock. Her breath
deserted her, fled in anguish from her body and she was overcome with
dizziness. Mama had helped her to sit down on the chair. Mama, whose hands on
her shoulder trembled. She didn't want to look at
Mama, didn't want to look at Papa, or Justin or that evil Michael.
Mama had
taken a napkin and dabbed her face.
"What
is the matter with her, Eileen?" Papa asked.
"Mrs
O'Clair, perhaps Katie should go and rest and prepare for tomorrow. The
excitement has made her poorly, don't you think?" she heard Justin say.
"Tomorrow?"
she asked weakly, her voice robbed of its strength, the shock still too strong.
They knew, came the thought. They knew or sensed that she was planning
something. How else could
they have chosen the day of her departure for the wedding? She
had always known that as long as she lived in her father's house, when she
decided to marry, her choice of husband would never be hers. Even deciding to
marry was not her choice. Her father had it all worked out. It was, she
believed, to punish her.
"Yes.
Michael must leave soon after for his home town, and Justin really wants him to
be best man at your wedding."
"But
Papa!" the words gushed from her, and suddenly she didn't care any more.
Her dreams were about to be destroyed, her hopes of a life elsewhere, away from
Papa's tyranny, in tatters. "I don't love him!" she cried in agony.
"I don't love him! And if you cared enough, you would tell him I can't
marry him!"
"Kathleen!"
Papa's warning voice drowned Justin's. Justin had walked round to her and put
his hands round her shoulder, trying to quieten her, but she was beyond caring.
She felt how her hand was torn from her mother's. Her father pressed his fists
down on the table.
"I
won't marry him! I do not love him, Papa."
"Tomorrow
it is," Liam O'Clair roared across the table. "What does love matter?
You are twenty two. At that age your older sisters had three children. What is
it with you? Every girl should marry and have babies. Every
girl!"
"Kathleen,
just think about it," Justin purred, "tomorrow you will be my bride
and you can read all the books in my library, be mother to my motherless little
boys. You know they like you..."
Justin's
voice dripped with silk. If she had been any other woman, she would have
crumbled at his persuasiveness and married him immediately. To Papa, he was the
kindest man who breathed. Justin could do no wrong. Large tracts of absentee
land lay between The Craggs and Inglenook. She had heard that Justin had won it
in a game of poker from a down-and-out English wastrel. If she married Justin,
her father would get the land. Her father was blind. Blind! Mama knew of
Justin's treatment of her, the marks on her body, her bloodied lips, of Ceara
who had little choice but to be his bed mate whenever he chose. Poor Ceara! She
gasped as Justin's fingers dug cruelly into her skin.
Kathleen pulled
herself out of his punishing grip and faced him. Her eyes felt full of heat and
rage, with angry tears spilling over her heated cheeks. His freckles looked
darker against his red face.
"Can't
you understand it? I - don't - love - you! I won't marry you! I won't. You are
a miserable, depraved man!"
"Katie!"
her mama cried, as she gave a deep sob and rushed away from them to the sanctuary
of her bedroom. She threw herself on the bed and sobbed her heart out. Mama's
hand had stroked her hair, soothed her, hummed for her
their precious tune again. She was wild with fear and anger but slowly, Mama's
voice brought calm to her until her sobbing subsided. Without saying a word,
her mama had helped her take off the wedding dress and put it away.
Footsteps sounded
and stopped just inside the door of her bedroom.
"If I could have a word with Kathleen, Mrs O'Clair. I will not keep you long..."
Katie's heart thudded, and her eyes begged her mother
not to leave her alone with Justin. But her papa was waiting in the lounge and
he was expecting his wife to join him. "Please..." Justin repeated in
his silky voice reserved for decency. When Eileen left with a guarded look in
her eyes, Justin closed the door. He took two steps forward and stopped
abruptly; the decent expression changed, became flushed and angry..
"You
fool woman," he hissed softly. "Don't you know what your father owes
me? Don't you know I own him? You cannot get out of this. It is arranged, and I
have a mighty need of a good bitch in heat to warm my bed."
"Justin,
please leave my room."
"Like
hell I will. You're mine, wench!"
He grabbed
her by the hair and pulled her roughly to him. She stifled a little cry of pain
at the force of it. Her old dress was no protection as he ripped open the
bodice and exposed her breasts. She tried to fight him off, beating his chest
with her fists, but he laughed softly.
"Scream, and I'll tell your father you liked this," he
panted hard, squeezing and kneading her breast. "I’ll tell him you
couldn't wait for me to fuck you."
She
recoiled at his crudity, recoiled at the cruelty of his assault. Another cry,
and before she knew it, Justin's mouth clamped on her breast and he started
sucking. She tried to pull away from his cruel lips, but iron clamps of fists
held her close to him, fingernails digging into her flesh. She fought him. As a
blinding flash of pain shot through her, she realised that to resist would
incense him and bring more pain. Somewhere, she heard her sister Linny cry.
Somewhere, Niamh fled from the farm, only to be hauled back by her irate
husband.
This can't be me... Oh, Father in heaven... not
for me...this manner of treatment. Her mind whirled, then turned numb from terror.
His mouth was
everywhere, wet and ugly and once he bit into her lips in a punishing kiss.
There was no concern, no softness, no compassion, no
kindness in his assault. She felt faint, images of nights and days in this
man's arms, spent and ravaged like he was doing to her now. He pushed her down
on the bed, his knee pinning her one leg under him, his hand pulling her dress
up, nails scoring her skin as they clawed up along her thigh. Something was
happening to her, something appalling. She tried to scream, but one hand
clamped her mouth as the other hand dug into her, found and parted her
violently. Fingers moved in her most sacred of places and gored roughly,
tearing at her inner walls. She gasped, dying in a moment from the roughness of
his entry. A blinding flash as pain seared through her. Something primal, an
ancient instinct for self-preservation, gave her the strength she needed.
Kathleen broke free of his imprisoning hand and in one final, hard push,
blinded by her fear and anger, she propelled herself
away from him and stood on the other side of her bed, pulling her dress about
her.
"You
are vile, Justin Riley. Go...leave my father's house..." she whispered as
she tried to regain her composure, grabbing the shawl that had been lying on
her pillow to pull protectively around her. Justin looked at her with heated
eyes still crazed from passion. He pointed a finger at her.
"Tomorrow,
you will be in my bed and I will show you who is the master.
That was just a taste of what's to come, bitch. Your flesh wants me. It was
begging for me. I could feel it. Now, don't disappoint me, little bird. I am
going to keep you in my bed every day, and you are going to enjoy it."
She was too stunned
to say anything, except to think that he was far more malevolent than she'd
realised. Despite his education, despite his appearance of decency, he was a
demented man who thought nothing of punishing her and violating her. Later she
heard the carriage leave, the sound of horses' hooves growing dimmer until it
died away. Between her legs it felt sticky and she knew that she was bleeding.
Hardly had
she regained her composure when her door burst open. She looked up, startled.
Her father was standing there and his nostrils were flaring. He was breathing
hard and in his hand...
Oh, God...
The cold
morning air fanned her cheeks that warmed up in their shame again. The wheels
of the cart rolled mercilessly, forcing the continuing memories. Katie pulled her
shawl tighter about her as she tried to close her eyes at that way her father
stood in the door of her bedroom. But it forced itself into her conscious,
making her relive those minutes.
"How
dare you!" her father shouted. He turned and pushed her mother violently
away from him. "Keep out of this, woman, or you will regret this
night." She heard her mother's cries even as the door slammed close and
her father advanced on her. The door flew open again.
"Liam!
Leave her. She's suffered enough!" Liam O'Clair swung round and struck his
wife across the face, pushed her violently away from the door and closed it.
Then he turned on her again. He pulled away the shawl, saw the torn dress,
the...
"Look
at you, you little whore! How dare you disgrace me so? How dare you bring shame
on me and my house?"
What did
Justin tell her father? Liam O'Clair raised the horse whip.
"Papa!
No!"
Then the
blows rained on her. Her cheeks flamed at the inhuman treatment, her own shame,
the leather thong searing, tearing tender skin as he branded her body. She
couldn't fight back. She tried to shield her face, but the blows rained on her
arms. She turned away from the whip, but it followed her. He flung her on the
bed, and even as she bounced up, the blows landed. His fists, the whip... Katie
screamed, yet in her crazed reaction to his torture she could hear her mother's
cries. She could hear the door open and felt her mother pull her father away
from her. But he kept coming, tearing her dress from her, tearing her
underclothes... She wanted to die of shame as she lay before her father. Her
body protested, her skin tore as the leather ate into
it for endless minutes. Her father grunted, his breath rasped, her mother
screamed. At some point her body stopped protesting, the blows became hazy. An
image of the Christ as He was tortured... An image of a woman, burned at the
stake...
When will it end, dear mother of mine?
When will it end?
When will it end, dear father of mine, when?
This darkness hides not its pain
or its torture,
When will it end, dear sisters of mine?
When will it end, dear friend of mine?
Come, lift your eyes to me
and waver not from your chosen path,
Hear the breaking waves against the shore
and feel its salted tears upon your face
Weep you no more, my child
For soon, the heavens will open,
and you will know
that in another time, another place,
the sun will shine for you...
Did she pass out?
She didn't know. Only that she sensed it had become quiet in the room; in a
daze she felt her mother covering her body, crooning all the time as she bathed
the weals with water and a soft cloth. Her mother had given an anguished cry
when she saw the blood on her inner thighs.
"Oh, my child!"
"Only his hands, Mama. It was cruel..."
She had
started sobbing again, but her mama kept up her humming of their melody, of
other forgotten and hazy lullabies. Mama had dressed her in her night-gown and
tucked her into her bed.
"Mama...?"
"Yes,
Katie?"
"What
am I going to do, Mama?"
"What
you were always going to do, Kathleen. Follow your heart."
She had
fallen into a restless slumber listening to her mama's soft voice and she had
wondered absently how she had thought that Mama didn't love her. So she drifted
off...dreaming about the
********
"Wake up,
Katie. We're here at the inn," Tommy said as he touched her shoulder
gently. Waking up in a daze,
she was disoriented for a few seconds until Tommy's face came
into focus. She gave him a smile as he jumped off the cart, held his hand to
her and helped her down, then looked about her. It was still early, and she
hadn't realised that she had fallen asleep against Tommy. The last she
remembered was passing the three mile mark into the city.
There were not many
people about, but Tommy had assured her that the inn would take them in early.
They were only going to stay for a few hours until they were ready for the bank
to open and then to get some transport to the port where the cattleships were
waiting. They removed their luggage from the cart and carried it to the foyer.
The innkeeper scowled, but he wasn't unfriendly. They had separate rooms and at
least she could freshen up. Her undergarment was sticking again to the open
weals on her back and she grimaced once. Tommy glanced quickly at her.
"Are you okay
now, Katie?" he asked, concerned. She nodded and quietly they were led up
the stairs to the first floor and shown their rooms. Tommy thanked the old man
and stuck two pennies in his hand when the man grumbled. She walked into her
room, still in a kind of daze, wondering that they had managed to get away from
the farms. She stood by the window overlooking a small backyard. It looked
dreary even in the watery sun.
Tommy had thrown
down his luggage and quickly came to her room. Katie didn't turn, and only felt
his hand lightly on her shoulder in the same gentle manner of earlier.
"You are sure?" he asked again. Turning to face him, she smiled that
he was still so worried. His ivy cap sat a little skew and it made him look
boyish, endearingly mischievous. His blue eyes were piercing in the morning
light that streamed through the small window. She had opened the window to let
in some air and the lace curtain fluttered in the breeze.
"I'm
still a little worried, Tommy Kiernan. I won't be able to rest until I am on
the Britannic out on the open
ocean..."
"I
know. I understand."
She saw how his lips
pursed together. He was remembering how she looked when he waited by her
bedroom window and helped her climb out. They had run as swiftly and as quietly
as they could through the dark to the cart that was waiting at the end of the lane that
marked the boundary of The Craggs. She had fallen down once, and when he helped
her up, she had cried out in agony. On the cart he had seen in the dim light of
the moon - for they daren't light the lantern - how she looked scared and in
pain.
She had opened the
top buttons of her blouse and showed him the first deep bruise that darkened
her skin. He also saw her cracked lips. His hands rested on her arms, a
question in his eyes. Then his hands touched her breast, her legs, the question
answered in silence as she nodded. He knew. He knew what kind of man his father
was, and his father was no different from her father. He knew what men like
Justin Riley did, for he too, had heard about Ceara's troubles with him.
Instinct
had made him put his hand round her in comfort and she winced, tears filling
her eyes at the sudden pain. Tommy had let out a vile curse she had never heard
him use. Then he cursed all
"My
father, do you think he will come after us?" she asked.
"No
one knows we're here, Katie."
"Except Mama. She knew - "
"Oh,
Katie - "
"No,
you don't understand, Tommy. Mama just sensed I was going to do something like
this. She's on our side. Only...only..." Katie paused, remembering her how
her mama sang to her last night.
"You
are worried about her."
"Yes.
My Papa... You can see what he is capable of," she said, pointing to her
arm, her neck, her back, her legs.
Tommy
touched her lips, still raw from Justin's attack. She closed her eyes,
remembering the shame of Justin's hands on her.
"I
know what men can do, Kathleen Eileen O'Clair," he said in a hoarse voice.
"Right now, I'm not very proud of being one myself. But I don't think your
father will come after us..."
"How
can you be so sure?" she asked as she sat down on the bed. She unlaced her
shoes and pulled them off before gingerly lying down on the bed. Tommy sat down
next to her.
"Because I disabled your cart." He smiled as her eyes widened at his audacity.
"Took a wheel off and guided the horse away from the stables and on to our
property. I was just worried that your father might hear the noise. I don't
think he did. We got away clear. If he wanted to warn Justin, he'd have to walk
the three miles there. We're ahead of them. Don't worry, will you?"
She gave a
sigh of relief, then allowed herself the luxury of a
smile.
"You've
always been such a devil, Thomas Eugene Kiernan. I'm glad we're together. We
should never be apart."
"Aye.
You promised I would be godfather to your firstborn, whenever that will
be..." He became pensive for a few moments. Then, "You will find
love, Katie O'Clair. I always thought you had guts to insist the man you marry
will be the man you love. That takes some doing in these parts..."
"Or, in these times."
"Or in these times. Look, I'll leave you now. It's getting colder and there's no point
waiting with the cattle in the cold to board the ship. Get some rest. I'll take
some shut-eye too. I'll come and wake you when it's time to go."
Katie's
heart thundered wildly. She sat up and planted a kiss against his cheek.
"Thank you, Tommy Kiernan. You are a good man."
"You
are entirely welcome, Katie O'Clair. Entirely welcome..."
When he
left, she settled in and shifted on her side. She'd seen much of
********
She was
already up and dressed again when Tommy knocked on her door. He didn't wait for
her to answer and her heart gave a skip when she thought it might be someone
else. She wouldn't put it past Justin to come looking for her. Tommy had
assured her this was a little known inn and tucked away in
"Ready?"
he asked as he took her suitcase and carried it with his own downstairs. The innkeeper, thought they were staying for two days, frowned,
then shrugged when he saw them coming down with their luggage. Tommy must have
been up all this time and gone out to arrange transport.
A short drive
down one street brought her to a small bank tucked away between two bigger
buildings.
"No,
I'm coming along," he insisted when she told him he could wait.
"That
makes me feel so much better, Tommy," she said, sounding relieved.
Tommy
watched the street, the carriage, the one or two
people who entered the bank. Kathleen felt safe that he was so cautious. The
bank teller looked friendly. She must have been his first customer.
"All your
funds, Miss?" he asked, then complied when she nodded to
him. Minutes later her money was safe in her handbag and they boarded the
waiting carriage again, now making its way to the docks, traveling through the
back streets. Katie's heart was in her throat as she looked about her. The city
was beginning to come alive, with more people milling about. She smiled at the
styles of some women wearing wide brimmed hats, gloved hands clutching
handbags, their laced up shoes just peeping from their ankle length dresses.
Many wore simple shifts, not as ornate as the one she was wearing. She had
decided to put on clean underclothes and the bloodied ones would have to wait
until they board the Britannic before she could do anything about cleaning
them. The men she saw had rough hands and faces; they wore tweed jackets with
patches on the elbows and almost all of them wore poorboy caps. She spotted a
newsboy standing on a corner shouting for everyone to buy the morning paper.
Most men were workers at the breweries, she supposed. Not many gentlemen about
with their bowler hats and dark suits and canes. She touched the lacy collar of
her dress, fingering the handmade lace with a gloved hand.
It was the brilliance of her
mother's craft. She shook her head. In her large bag, she had packed the
hand-embroidered table cloth with hand-made lace edging they had used the
previous night at dinner. She'd found it when she woke up to prepare for her
journey. There was no message but she knew that her mother meant for her to
take it with her to the
"How
long before we reach the port?" she asked, clutching her handbag tighter
to her. The driver turned to look once at them, smiled, then
kept his eyes on the road.
"Not
long now," Tommy said as they came within sight of the harbour. They
passed a few more
buildings. Then suddenly the horses neighed and pranced. The carriage
rocked.
"Tommy..."
"What the - ?" Tommy shouted as she was thrown against him. "Hey - !!"
Two figures
lunged for them. The next moment Tommy was pulled from the carriage, landing
in the ditch. A flurry of movement so fast she hardly knew what was happening.
Then a pair of hands grabbed her and pulled her roughly down. When she saw his
enraged face, the freckles, the dark hair, she went ice-cold inside.
"No!! Justin, you!"
"Thought
you could get away from me, could you?" he leered. "I had Michael
come in to
Katie
struggled violently, screaming for help as Justin dragged her away from the
carriage. Tommy was pulled to his feet by Michael. Out of the corner of her
eye, she could see them scuffle, then she heard Tommy
screaming at her to try and run. She pulled away from Justin to run to Tommy.
Michael took a swing at him.
"No!
Tommy! Tommy!"
People were
running from all directions. The hands that gripped her dug painfully into her
flesh and she was dragged kicking and screaming from the spot to the side of a
building down an alley. She didn't know what was happening to Tommy, but Justin
pushed her against the wall so hard that her head knocked and she felt
momentarily faint. Where did the curious onlookers come from so suddenly? She
looked at them with pleading eyes while Justin's hand squeezed her bosom.
"Help
me, please... He's hurting me."
"Here,"
Justin said, as he pinned her to the wall and with the other hand removed a
piece of paper from his jacket pocket. "I have her father's permission to
marry her. Our wedding is today. This paper says so. She is mine. This wench is
my wife. I already tasted her, see?" he barked. "Now be off, I want
to kiss my bride - "
"No,
I'm not your wife! I'm not - " Her mouth was
muffled as Justin's mouth descended on her. The same blinding
fear of last night. Justin's leering, his rough
hands...all over her...people watching. She pushed him away as hard as she
could, but Justin lunged back.
Darkness
descending as his mouth closed on hers. Fear so deep...so deep.
"Help,
please..."
This darkness hides not its pain
or its torture,
When will it end, dear sisters of mine?
When will it end, dear friend of mine?
"Lady, is this man bothering you?" asked a strange
voice. It didn't sound like anyone from her part of the world. A strange,
clipped voice, disciplined, yet the sound of anger lay just beneath the surface
of the discipline. How could she sense that in the face of danger? she wondered. Justin broke the kiss to glower at the
stranger. Katie saw the darkest pair of eyes staring at her. A man, surely not
of this place, with a woollen cap pulled over his forehead. He looked...kind, and he smiled...
"Please...
help me..."
Then the
man grabbed Justin and threw him hard against the opposite wall. Justin's head
cracked. How strong was this stranger?
"Seems
to me you don't understand when the lady says 'no'," he hissed at Justin,
pressing him tightly against the wall. The stranger turned to look at her. She
was struck again by his dark brooding eyes, his tan, the
contained anger.
"You
okay, Miss?"
She
nodded, too mute to say anything. Something, an indefinable thread that pulled her to the man, kept her
standing there. Tommy would find her, she knew. Out of the corner of her eye,
she had seen two persons rushing to his aid, and had also seen the driver jump
off to help. Here, with the stranger, she sensed that she should throw in her
lot with him. She felt an instantaneous assurance; she could trust him with her
life. There was venom in his eyes which he seemed to reserve for Justin only.
"Now,
how about fighting me?" the stranger invited as he pulled off his jacket
and handed it to her. She heard how his knuckles cracked as he flexed his
fists. "Think you can handle fighting a man?"
****
END CHAPTER
FOUR