Free Beyond the Cliffs of Kerry by Amanda Hughes Page B

bridegroom in Kilkerry had borrowed these boots from Casey, but they still inspired awe when they were worn publicly.
     
    Bridget stood quietly by Michael, looking down at the dirt floor of the cottage. She was painfully shy, and all this attention was unbearable for her. She longed to be home alone with Michael away from all the prying eyes. Bridget was a tall big-boned girl with broad hips and a freckled face. Her brown hair was tucked neatly under a white mob cap lined with the fine lace she had woven by candlelight. Michael linked arms with her, patted her hand and nodded to Father Etienne that they were ready.
     
    Outside on the green, pony carts continued to pull up, unloading guests, eager to spend the warm, sunny day dining and dancing. Women scurried about, carrying pots filled with their best suppers, and tables were moved out into the open air to hold food. They were arranged in long lines with homespun tablecloths which snapped in the breeze. The men gathered in groups around the square, starting on the stout and the brandy earlier than usual, ribbing each other about who would win the races and games. Their voices would occasionally grow louder and frequently end in hearty laughter as the children ran back and forth across the green, turning somersaults and playing tag.
     
    The green was filled with guests when the bride and groom stepped out of the cottage into the sunshine. The crowd let out a hearty cheer. A group of fiddlers struck up a jig as guests swarmed the couple offering best wishes and congratulations.
     
    Long lines formed to consume the stews, puddings and mutton pies which graced the tables. Potatoes and cabbages, ordinarily so mundane, had been dressed in special ways for today's festivities. Everyone donated their best recipes, and the aromas were delectable.
     
    At the end of the line, there was a table reserved for fresh breads and dainties. This was considered extravagant fare, reserved for special occasions only, and it was here that the hungry villagers found delicate flummeries and tarts. The rich, deep colors of the berries alongside the generous creams were a feast for the eyes, and one guest donated a trifle. To post-famine Kilkerry, such excess seemed sacrilegious, but the guilt was fleeting. Plates filled up quicker than consciences, and everyone made merry.
     
    Many spread tablecloths and blankets on the ground or simply sat directly on the soft green grass. Many of the men, preferred to indulge in spirits before clearing their heads with food, and several games of chance sprang up, including the shell game.
     
    The bride and groom received guests at their table, and between bites of food, gave thanks to all the villagers for their gifts. During the festivities, Father Etienne found it prudent to remain in the O'Hearn cottage, and he was chatting with old Mrs. Mallory as Darcy stepped inside to see him. John Kinsale, one of the young men in town, was watching the door to be sure no informants entered the O'Hearn cottage. Father Etienne noticed the look he gave Darcy, as she swept past him. The priest was glad that he did not have the game of courtship to distract and confuse him.
     
    As Darcy approached, Mrs. Mallory rose and said, "You take my chair, dear. My bones need warming in the sun."
     
    Darcy sat down, handing Father Etienne a mug of stout and said, "I wish you didn't have to hide in here like a prisoner."
     
    Father Etienne laughed. "It doesn't bother me. I feel like a king holding court as they drift in and out paying homage to me."
     
    "Oh, is that what I'm doing?"
     
    "No, you have never been impressed with me.”  
     
    Darcy   asked, "Have you been sleeping at night?"
     
    "Most nights I sleep, but there are times when the slightest memory triggers it all again.”
     
    There was little time to visit. The cottage was filling again with people wishing to greet Father Etienne. They were chattering and laughing, and one of the young men handed him a plate of