Marriage by request Page 4

  CHAPTER FOUR

  IT was a fine bright day again when Cerys left the house the following afternoon. She was to meet Liam by the stables and they were to go riding again, something she looked forward to enormously. They had not been able to go in the morning because Liam was too busy, but after lunch, she had assured him, would be fine. He took his work as bailiff of his foster-father's estate very seriously and Cerys knew he would never let anything or anybody come before that. The trees along the ride made welcome shade and she enjoyed the walk, taking her time, for she was early for her appointment with Liam. If he was already there she would see him and could increase her pace, but the warmth of the sun made her feel lazy and relaxed and she hoped she would not have to hurry too much. She could see nothing of him at the moment, although the ever-changing light as the sun glinted among moving leaves and branches made concentration difficult. She was about half-way down the ride when a movement some fifty yards ahead caught her eye and she turned her head hastily. There was nothing to be seen but the dappled shadows of the trees across the ride and a slight movement of the bushes to one side as if someone had disturbed them. Whoever it was had gone and left her with only a fleeting impression of pale yellow disappearing into the trees, but it was sufficient to make her curious and draw a slight frown between her brows. 53 Liam came out of the stables as she approached and she wondered if he had seen whoever it was. He looked up as she came nearer and waved a hand in greeting. 'Hello,' he called, 'you're very punctual.' He had the tall, gentle bay ready for her and she smiled her approval. 'I try to be punctual,' she told Liam. 'I don't like to give the men an excuse to make snide remarks about feminine time-keeping. Hello, Ben,' she added as the bay pushed an enquiring nose at her. She produced some sugar lumps inveigled from Mrs. Duffy and fed them to him. 'There you are,' she told him, 'that's for being good the other day and not giving me a rough ride.' 'You could try something a bit more venturesome today,' Liam suggested, flashing her a smile. 'We could give them their heads across the big meadow.' 'I'm game if Ben is,' Cerys told him, and Liam laughed softly, shaking his head at her. 'I think you'd be game for almost anything,' he suggested, and Cerys smiled. 'Anyway, Ben's a good turn of speed if you put your heels to him, though he's not the stamina that the blacks have, of course.' He went back into the stable and reappeared after a few moments leading a glossy-coated black who skittered experimentally in the bright sun. 'Is that the same one you rode last time?' she asked. He shook his head. 'No, that was this one's halfbrother. They're the last of our bloodstock, I'm afraid.' He patted the black, silky neck before he mounted. 'The last of the line.' 'Oh yes, of course. Uncle Sean used to breed horses, didn't he?' Cerys asked, suddenly remembering. 'I'd forgotten that. He was quite well known in horse circles, so Daddy used to say.' 53 Liam nodded agreement, putting cautious heels to his mount. 'Croxley used to be one of the finest studs in Ireland,' he told her. 'But it was Father's interest, not mine, I'm afraid, I've neither the knowledge nor the interest to carry it on.' 'But you're a wonderful rider,' Cerys protested. 'You must know horses, surely, to handle them so well.' 'Oh, I ride well enough,' he admitted with a smile tor the compliment. 'I like riding, but that's more practice than instinct, whereas a good breeder has to have a special built-in instinct as well as knowledge and patience. I have none of the requisite virtues, I'm afraid.' 'It's such a pity,' Cerys said, eyeing the animal he rode, 'they're sudi lovely creatures, aren't they?' 'They are,' he agreed, 'and it takes a lot of care and selection to keep a good strain like this going. Father knew exactly what he was doing and people respected 'his judgment. It's like people really, it's just not possible to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear sooner or later something goes wrong and they revert to type.' He was not, Cerys felt convinced, talking exclusively about horses, nor was the conversation entirely impersonal, unless she was very much mistaken. Liam evidently took his ancestry very much more to heart than she had realised. None of it showed in his manner or his appearance, but the awareness was there, she thought, and sometimes it showed in odd little remarks like the one he had just now made about breeding horses. 'I expect you're probably right,' she said as non-committally as she knew how. They rode out on to the tree-shaded ride and it was a moment or two before she remembered that brief flick of colour she had seen disappearing among the trees. 54 'Does anyone else ride from here?' she asked suddenly. His hesitation was barely discernible, but it was there and Cerys was puzzled by it. 'Cormac helps me exercise them,' he told her at last. 'He was here when Father ran the stud and he knows horses, and O'Rourke rides too. He hasn't an animal of his own, but Father lets him have one of ours when he has the time.' 'Which can't be all that often, I suppose,' Cerys guessed with a laugh, remembering the productive Mrs. McCarthy. 'More often than you may think,' he replied. 'It's a fairly healthy district and he has time enough.' 'Mmm, I see.' He flicked her a curious glance. 'Had you any special reason for asking?' he enquired. 'Or were you just curious?' She thought for a moment, wondering if she really had seen anything but almost convinced that she had. 'I thought I saw someone leaving just as I came along the ride,' she told him. 'I suppose I was curious.' 'Leaving?' She had the feeling that her words had disturbed him and she wondered why. She watched his face as she answered, seeking to pinpoint that barely discernible wariness that puzzled her. 'Someone was leaving, I'm sure of it,' she said. 'Just as I saw him, her or it, I don't know which it was, they disappeared into the trees and I had no chance for a real good look.' 'Oh, you didn't get a good look at all?' She shook her head. 'No, but it was someone wearing yellow, pale yellow,' she added as a clue, feeling sure now that he knew the identity of the visitor. 'I think you must have been seeing things,' he told her a moment later, and she stared at him. 'I'm wear55 ing a blue shirt and so is Cormac, if I remember rightly, and I've never known O'Rourke turn out in a yellow shirt yet, although anything's possible, I suppose.' 'Didn't you see anyone?' He turned quizzical eyes on her, the grey flecked with gold as they rode beneath the trees where the sun dappled everything through the leaves, making shifting patterns on the surface of the ride and on the lower branches that grew round the base of the trees. 'You didn't is more likely, I think,' he said with a short laugh, and without actually answering her question. 'The sun on the leaves can play some odd tricks at times.' 'I know it can,' Cerys allowed, but still doubtful. 'I suppose you could be right.' It was best, she decided, not to press the matter if he was so reluctant to believe her. They were riding now over lush green grass that seemed to stretch for miles and swept up at the opposite end to them in a high rise, hiding the river that Cerys knew should lie across that way. It was a placid and peaceful outlook and the green shimmered hazily in the summer heat, so that everything had a slightly unreal look. 'Shall we put on some speed?' Liam asked. 'And make ourselves a breeze.' Cerys nodded agreement and the animals responded willingly enough to encouragement, pounding across the grass towards the distant rise and the coolness of the river on the other side. It was exhilerating and blessedly cool and the horses seemed to be enjoying the speed as mudi as their riders, manes and tails flying in the wind of their own making, sure-footed over the familiar ground. 56 Considering his lack of breeding, her own mount kept up quite well, but when it came to tackling the rise at the end of the gallop he lost pace and followed the effortless black more slowly. 'Well done, boy!' She patted the bay's quiveringneck as he joined his stable-mate and halted at the top of the rise. Cerys looked down the fairly steep hillside to the river at the bottom where it flowed around the foot of the rise, looking like a shot-silk ribbon in the sun, the sound of it just audible from their vantage point. It was something which was only possible because of the still, quietness of the air, and Cerys wondered at it. The whole outlook, she thought musingly, looked like every idyllic picture of Ireland ever painted, and she smiled at her own comparison. Big white clouds lay fatly on the horizon like snow against the blue sky, their movement indiscernible except where it was betrayed by the changing light on the far hills. There
were cattle in most of the meadows as far as they could see, lazily content in the warmth of summer, only moving when a fresh, more inviting piece of pasture tempted them. Cerys sighed audibly. 'Oh, it's all so beautiful,' she said, and laughed. 'I'm sorry, Liam, I'm always repeating that theme, aren't I?' 'Say it as often as you like,' Liam told her with a smile. 'I agree with you, it is beautiful.' She looked across the undulating greenness before them, her eyes sparkling with the beauty of it. 'I think it's partly the silence too,' she said. 'One can almost feel it.' 'If you say so,' Liam agreed obligingly, and she turned her head to see laughter in the deep-grey eyes and an expression that reminded her fleetingly and 57 startlingly of Doctor O'Rourke. It's true,' she insisted with a slight pout of reproach. 'If you'd lived in a city as I have you'd know what I mean. There's never a moment day or night when it's really silent. Here it seems to to be almost one of the elements, like the wind and the sun. There's a stillness here that makes you stop and enjoy it instead of hurrying on with your head down.' 'It must be your Irish coming out and making you poetic,' he teased her. 'The Welsh are poetic too,' she retorted, 'so you can take your pick whidi half is responsible where I'm concerned.' 'It's a fiery mixture,' he declared with a laugh that trickled softly down her spine, 'and a very lovely one.' For all its apparent sincerity, the compliment had the sound of being more practised than impulsive, but there was a warmth in the grey eyes that supported the sentiment and he leaned across and put a hand over hers. 'You're very good for my ego, Liam,' she told him lightly, and looked down the hill to the river. 'Can we go down there, or haven't you the time to spare?' 'I've plenty of time yet,' he told her, putting his heels to the restless black. 'The place won't disintegrate without me for a while.' They dismounted when they reached the river bank and left the horses, reins-trailing, nibbling at the sweet grass round their feet. They walked to the water's edge, seeking the shade of an ancient tree that leaned over to admire itself in the water, graceful and somnolent. 'What river is this?' Cerys asked, leaning against the tree lazily. 'I'm. afraid I'm appallingly ignorant about Ireland.' 'It's the Trave,' he told her, making no comment on 58 her ignorance or otherwise, but sharing her support against the trunk of the tree. 'It's not very big, but it has some good fishing if you're interested.' 'I'm not,' Cerys laughed with a grimace. 'I haven't the patience, for one thing, but I dare say you could rent the fishing rights, they're quite valuable as a source of income, so I've heard.' 'We do let them,' he told her, 'and they are.' 'Good for you!' She leaned forward, peering into the clear water and seeing his reflection just behind her, looking darker than in the flesh and more gypsy-like, she realised uneasily. 'Are you troubled with poachers round here? I believe they're the bane of any bailiff or keeper's life, aren't they?' 'Some,' he admitted and, reflected in the water, she caught sight of a wary frown. 'But you know how to deal with them,' she guessed with a laugh, and he looked at her strangely, she thought, as if he suspected her of some ulterior motive. 'I'm quite an efficient bailiff, you know,' he told her. She caught the eye of his reflection teasingly and laughed softly. 'Oh, but of course you would be,' she said, meaning to add that her uncle would never have let him do the job otherwise, but before she could say any more she saw his eyes darken and take on a hard look so that she turned'her head hastily. 'Set a thief to catch a thief,' he said coldly, before she could speak again, 'isn't that the adage, Cerys? Or in this case poachers are the best keepers.' 'Liam!' She stared at him for a moment, horrified that he should misinterpret her meaning so harshly. 'I didn't mean ' 'And gypsies are traditional poachers,' he went on, as if she had not spoken. 'Liam, I didn't say that!' Anger glinted for a mo59 ment in her eyes and she sought to control it, realisingthat he had been affected by her words whether she had meant to hurt him or not. 'You know I didn't mean it either, so why put words into my mouth? It isn't fair!' He was silent for a moment, his expression dark and withdrawn, and then he shook his head, a faint flush betraying his regret at the outburst. 'No I'm sorry, Cerys. I I suppose I'm hyper-sensitive about it, but lately__' He shook his head again slowly. 'I'm sorry, please forgive me. I was unpardonably rude.' 'You were nothing of the sort,' she assured him softly, her own anger evaporated now that he looked so contrite. 'Please don't apologise, you have no need to.' He looked at her steadily for a moment, then put an arm round her shoulders and hugged her briefly. 'Thank you, Cerys. You're very understanding and I shall make a vow not to feel sorry for myself again.' 'You have no need to,' she told him, and thought for a moment that he would object again to her choice of words, but instead he stood for a few seconds, his arm still round her shoulders, his eyes distant, as if he sought a solution to something that troubled him. 'Cerys,' he said at last, 'you don't resent my being being here, do you? I mean,' he added hastily lest she should misinterpret his meaning, 'you are Father's your uncle's only blood relative and really you should have -all this when when he goes.' He always, she noticed, hesitated before using the word goes and always substituted it for another, more final word. When Sean Brady died, she realised, Liam would be like a ship without an anchor, with no one to stand between him and anyone who sought to deny him as her uncle's heir. 'Of course I don't resent you,' she told him gently. 60 'Why should I, Liam? You've been Uncle Sean's whole life :or the past seventeen years I've scarcely seen him atal;; 'But you are his blood,' Liam insisted as if it was of pr.'me importance, and Cerys shook her head slowly, not quite easy about his insistence and his reason for bi inging up this particular subject. 'But you're his son,' she said softly, looking up at the tanned, good-looking face and the grey eyes dark and uncertain. 'No one can take that away from you, Liam, and no one wants to, least of all me.' Her reassurance seemed to satisfy him and he looked more cheerful as they left the shelter of the old tree and walked across to where the horses waited for them, but he still had something on his mind, she thought. He was about to help her to mount when he spoke again, or at least started to, but the sight of another rider at the top of the rise above them drew their eyes and they neither of them spoke for a moment. The figure silhouetted against the sky was unmistakable, and one hand was raised in greeting to them while the other held the other black horse under control. 'Doctor O'Rourke,' said Cerys, her dislike evident in her voice, but it was impossible to avoid a meeting, for he was already coming down the hill to join them. Cerys watched him come with grudging admiration for his skill, for he was an excellent rider and looked rather impressive as he rode the skittish black down the slope at a full gallop, the sun glinting on the red head and making it look like gold, his lean body easy in the saddle. 'Hello,' he greeted them as he came up, and Cerys at least felt bound to respond to the broad friendly smile, although she kept her greeting brief and formal. 'Good afternoon. Doctor O'Rourke.' 61 'I didn't know you rode,' he commented with what she felt was unflattering surprise. I can't think why I shouldn't,' she said stiffly. 'It's a common enough ability.' Oh, of course,' he agreed with suspicious humility, and she flushed when she was reminded of his taunt about her 'playing the landed gentry'. I'm surprised you have the time to ride, Doctor O'Rourke,' she told him. 'Or haven't you a very big practice?' 'Big enough,' he allowed amiably, with a glitter of laughter behind his sobriety. 'There's the big folks around as well as the villagers and the farmers. It's all grist to the medical mill an' I'm a workin' fella.' 'Have you seen Father today?' Liam asked him shortly, obviously as reluctant as Cerys to have his company and impatient with his levity. The other man nodded, the glimmer of laughter still in his eyes, though his face was sober enough. "I have that,' he said. 'I left him only a while ago and he asked me it I was riding. I don't know if he wanted me to keep an eye on you.' The statement was outrageous and Cerys flushed . angrily. 'That is not true. Doctor O'Rourke,' she said, haughtily unfriendly, 'and you had no right to say such a thing.' 'No?' He shook his head. 'Well, he was with old Donnelly when I came away,' he added, 'so he couldn't say too much anyway.' 'Donnelly?' Liam looked worried, a deep frown between his brows as he turned to Cerys. 'Donnelly is Father's soli
citor,' he explained. 'I thought I thought everything was settled with him. I don't like Father being upset.' 'Neither do I,' the doctor retorted, 'but I don't think 62 you need worry too much. He was all right when I leti them.' 'He's no worse?' Liam asked anxiously, prepared even to talk to the man he disliked so much if he could get reassurance about his foster-father. Kevin O'Rourke shook his head, his eyes sympathising with the other man. 'No worse no better,' he said. Liam looked at Cerys. 'I think I'd like to get back if you don't mind, Cerys,' he told her. 'If Miss Brady doesn't want to come back with you yet,' the doctor suggested, 'I can show her the sights, Liam.' The blue eyes flicked a devil of mischief between the two of them. 'If that's what you were doing,' he added blandly, and again Cerys flushed her anger at the implication. 'I'll go back with Mr. Rogan, thank you,' she told him chillingly polite. 'You needn't bother, doctor.' 'No bother at all,' he smiled, running one hand through the red hair and making its dishevelment even worse. 'I know the ground as well as Liam does.' 'Just the same,' Cerys insisted firmly, 'I'll go back with Mr. Rogan, thank you.' 'Suit yourself.' He shrugged his shoulders and the uncaring gesture brought the colour of his shirt to her notice. It was a dazzingly white one and could not by any strength of the imagination have been mistaken for the pale yellow she had seen disappearing along the ride earlier. No matter what Liam said, she was certain she had seen someone and that it was not just the sun playing tricks with her eyes. While she was so preoccupied, the black horse had been turned .about and was fast drawing away round the foot of the rise, the rider turning as he rode to wave a casual hand at them. 'Ill-mannered oaf!' Liam glared after him as he helped Cervs to remount and she thought how similar her own opinion had been the previous day, although a little less forcibly expressed. Returning to the house Liam and Cerys went into the sitting-room together, and Sean Brady smiled when he saw the two of them together. 'Father,' Liam spoke before either Cerys or her uncle could say a word, 'are you all right?' The deep eyes looked at him curiously. 'All right? I'm fine, Liam. What made you think I wasn't?' Liam shrugged, a frown between his brows, uneasy but not wanting to make too much of his worry. 'Oh, nothing really,' he said. 'We saw O'Rourke down by the river and he said Dermo.t Donnelly had been here. I was just I just wondered that was all. I thought all the legal business had been cleared up I didn't want him here worrying you.' The older man shook his head, his eyes beaming affection and understanding for the concern. 'He wasn't worrying me, Liam, just tying up a few loose ends, nothing to worry about at all.' Liam sat down on the very edge of a chair, his smile sheepish, the concern still evident in his eyes as he looked at the tired drawn face opposite him. 'I'm sorry, but I can't help worrying.' 'I know.' The older man's voice was gentle and for a moment Cerys felt like an interloper, as if she had no right to be there, for there was such a closeness between the two men that a third person seemed superfluous. They had such perfect rapport that it was almost impossible to realise their relationship was not a blood one, or even established in law, but merely grown from the affection of a lonely man for an abandoned child. Briefly Liam put his hand to cover his face, as if the physical act of hiding his eyes could blot out the truth 64 he was so reluctant to face. 'I know I have to face it some time,' he said, his voice muffled but distinct, 'but not yet, Father, not yet.' 'Not yet,' Sean Brady echoed soothingly. 'We have tilings to do first, Liam.' If one had to decide, Cerys thought, her uncle was easily the stronger of the two i, men, at least as far as character was concerned, and he ; would achieve anything he set his heart on no matter : how illness had weakened him physically. ; Liam raised his head, his expression anxious and i doubtful as he looked at his foster-father. 'I I'm not 1 sure that what we're doing is right and ' He glanced across at Cerys as if he had only now remem. bered she was there, and found her watdiing him, her ' gaze curious and puzzled by something she did not understand. 'I'm sorry, Cerys,' he said, and laughed, though it had a forced sound and she guessed it cost , him dear. 'It's just some legal point, nothing very awful ; really, but I well, I have doubts about it sometimes.' 'Well,' said Cerys, seeking to be reassuring without having an inkling of what she was talking about, 'if it's legal I should think it must be right, mustn't it? That's the whole idea- of law, isn't it?' 'There's such a thing as moral right as well,' Liam told her shortly, then glanced at the older man and lowered his gaze as if he feared he may have said too much. Sean Brady was silent for a moment, then he smiled across at Cerys. 'I think you should know, Cerys, I've persuaded Liam to adopt my name, our name. He'll be Liam Brady before very long now.' Liam got to his feet, uneasy and anxious for her approval, not waiting for her to comment on her uncle's announcement. He stood, tall and looking every inch the country gentleman in breedies and 65 jacket, the high polished boots wide apart, like a man at bay in front of the empty fireplace. 'Father wants me to change my name legally,' he told Cerys, the grey eyes half challenging as he looked at her, waiting for reactions. If they had hoped to surprise her, or perhaps even to shock her, they did neither, for Cerys smiled her approval of the idea without hesitation. 'I think it's a wonderful idea,' she said. 'I've often wondered why you were never known as Brady when you've been so like a real son to Unde Sean all these years. I think it's a marvellous idea, Liam.' 'You don't mind?' A trace of anxiety still edged his voice, and Cerys shook her head. 'Of course I don't mind,' she assured him. 'Why on earth should I? I only hope you'll do as he asks; will you?' His relief was obvious and he smiled. 'I've already started the ball rolling,' he admitted, 'but it's nice to be accepted so readily, thank you, Cerys.' 'You were accepted seventeen years ago,' Sean told him softly, evidently pleased with his niece's'reaction. 'I only wish I'd adopted you and done the job properly.' Liam shook his head, a flicker of doubt still there, though Cerys could not imagine why. 'There was too much against it,' he said. 'I only hope that now I can be a credit to the name and not let you down.' To Cerys the words had a strangely ominous sound and she remembered, uneasily, his earlier talk to her about making silk purses out of sows' ears and reverting to type. Something, she thought, was worrying Liam Rogan more than he admitted. 66