Free Fields of Home by Marita Conlon-Mckenna

Fortunata from Queenstown over six years ago. He’d always been around. They’d gone to mass together, talked about the old days back in Ireland, strolled around Boston, had snowball fights and skated on the river in the cold winters, danced a jig in the front room of Mrs Byrne’s at the céilí – he was, after all, Sarah’s brother, and a friend.
    ‘Peggy …’ he said, ‘Peggy, I want to ask you something.’
    Peggy lifted her eyes to meet his gaze.
    ‘Will you come with us?’ he asked suddenly. ‘Come with me, I mean? I need a partner.’
    She let out a wobbly kind of gasp.
    ‘Will you marry me, Peggy, be my wife?’
    Peggy didn’t know what to say. James was actually proposing to her. She couldn’t believe it!
    ‘You and Sarah are close friends. You’d becompanions for each other. We would all be able to help each other to build a new life out west.’
    Peggy closed her eyes. He only wanted a partner, someone to help plant the corn and feed the cattle and cook the meals. That’s all it was. He was just used to her, to having her around.
    ‘What do you think, Peggy?’ he said reaching for her hand.
    ‘James! I don’t know. I was talking to Sarah earlier. I told her that when you’re all settled, maybe the railroad will have reached wherever you have gone to, and I would just love to come and visit you …’
    He held her hand, squeezing it gently. ‘I’m rushing you. I suppose it’s not fair to just spring it on you like this, especially when we’re leaving so soon …’
    The night air was heavy and still, the closeness wrapping itself around Peggy, the scent of magnolia and jasmines escaping from the gardens they drove past. It all made her feel almost dizzy as the cart bumped along the narrow laneways.
    James slipped his arm around her and she sat rigid, trying to resist the temptation to snuggle close to him while they jostled along. She was lost in a storm of confusion as they came in sight of Rushton.
    They came to a halt near the large gateway. The driveway and hedges gleamed in the moonlight. He sat silent, waiting for her answer.
    ‘Home sweet home,’ he said, smiling.
    ‘James, I am very honoured by you asking me … by your proposal … I don’t know what to say. You know I would love to be with the three of you, stay part of your lives. It’s just that …’ she whispered feebly, ‘I have my job and my life here,’ she said gesticulating wildly at the large house.
    ‘I see,’ said James politely.
    Peggy sat, miserable. She didn’t want to leave him like this. ‘Can’t we be friends, James, and I promise to come and visit you …’
    ‘Friends it is then,’ he replied stiffly.
    Suddenly he leaned forward and, catching her unawares, tilted up her chin and kissed her. Her mind told her to pull away but instead she savoured the warmth of his full lips and soft breath against her own. Then he lifted his head, a tuft of dark hair falling forward over his brow.
    ‘Friends!’ he said bitterly.
    Dazed, Peggy let him help her down and walk her towards the gate. The Rowans would object to strangers appearing in the driveway late at night and to members of their household staff keeping company at such late hours.
    ‘Goodbye, Peggy!’ called James, as she began to walk away from him.
    ‘Good luck!’ said Peggy, anxious to escape thetemptation she had to fling her arms around him and beg him to kiss her once more. All she wanted was to get in that kitchen door, up the back stairs and into her room. For once she was glad that Kitty wasn’t around, because all she wanted was peace and quiet and a chance to bawl her eyes out.

CHAPTER 11
    The Big House

    NOBODY COULD SAY FOR SURE HOW IT STARTED , but only a few days after the harvest home festival, the big house caught fire. Lord Henry and his family were all in their beds and the household staff fast asleep when, like a thief in the night, the first flame jumped through the broken window, catching the wooden frame and shutters.