Page 63 of The Irish Gypsy
Kitty blushed. "For me it was anindescribable joy."
"Then how in the name of God have you escapedgetting caught? It only takes once!"
"Once?" echoed Kitty.
"Don't be so bloody obtuse! Whatever methodhave you been using?" Julia asked curiously.
Kitty was stunned for a moment. "I have toconfess I never thought once about becoming pregnant.
I'm ashamed of my ignorance," she added.
"That's how men like to keep us. Selfish tothe core. They take their pleasure where they find it, then go offmerrily about their own pursuits and we are left to bear thefruit!"
A cold hand gripped Kitty's heart. A wave ofdizziness swept over her as she thought of the classic case of theunwed Irish servant girl in trouble by the master. Now that shethought of it, the smell of bacon cooking did definitely producethe symptoms of morning sickness! She fervently wished that she wasnot going to have a child, but deep down inside she felt such astrong premonition, she feared she was caught.
She excused herself and went upstairs, whereshe could be alone to think. It had been six weeks since she hadlast had her menses.How could I have overlooked something soimportant?she wondered with amazement. She pushed the thoughtaway at once and sought out Barbara.
"I hate black, Barbara. Lend me a prettydress, will you? His Grace has invited me out for a drive. Tell mewhat he's like."
"Oh, he's a darling man. He and Patrick aregreat friends. His wife has been dead for years, so I never mether. I saw a great deal of him when I was a little girl, but he'slived in the tropics the past few years. He's enormously rich, ownslots of houses here in London, and estates all over England andIreland. He'd be a wonderful catch if he weren't so old," Barbarasaid ingenuously.
Kitty thought privately that he was a verycomfortable age; a man you could lean on. She knew she shouldn'tconsider going driving with a gentleman while she was in mourning,and under no circumstances should she go unchaperoned, but shedidn't give a damn for the conventions and knew she neverwould.
Charles was surprised to see her appear soquickly. His eyes smiled down into hers as he said, "Kathleen, Iknow this is a sad time for you, but let's try to be happytoday?"
"Please let's be comfortable with each other.If I have to keep saying 'your Grace this' and 'your Grace that'the conversation will be so stilted I couldn't bear it. I have aconfession to make: I'm not a lady of quality, and I'm absolutelypenniless. Now, I can put on airs and graces, but not with you,Charles! Can we be friends?"
He leaned over and kissed her soundly.
Her eyes widened. "Is that what you've beenwanting to do ever since we met?"
He nodded. "Yes."
"My God, all men are alike!" she said andlaughed.
"But not all women, thank the Lord. You areunique! There is one kind of woman frightens me to death. Deliverme from society's debutantes. I should know--I was married to one,"he said dryly.
They came to a large estate, but the houseseemed to have been closed for the season, and the knockers hadbeen removed from the doors. The park stretched out before themwith magnificent shade trees, flowering shrubs, arbors, fish pondsand miniature bridges. Beyond the park, the lawns swept down to theriver. "Belongs to a friend of mine who's out of the country," heexplained.
Kitty knew instinctively it was his. "It's sogreen it reminds me of home," she said with a little sigh. Sheturned to him eagerly. "How is it in Ireland now?"
"Well, it's a bit better. I think they'llhave crops this year, but things still are bad," he said sadly.
She took his arm. "I'm still homesick for it,though."
"Homesick? Lass, you don't know the meaningof the word. There have been times in the tropics when the heatdances and shimmers off everything and the hours of sunshine seemto go on and on until you think darkness never will fall. I'veoften looked about me at the jungle's gaudiness and thought naturemust have gone mad in that part of the world. Just the effort ofthinking makes your clothes damp with sweat and your throat alwaysfeels parched for just one more rum punch. It's times like thatIreland beckons. For just one hour of its softness a man wouldtrade away his very soul."
"Tell me, Charles, is it frightening out onthe Atlantic?"
"I can't lie to you, lass. There are timeswhen it can be frightening if you meet up with a gale, but if youavoid sailing during the bad-weather months, why, it's like havinga holiday, it's so pleasant."
"How much does it cost?" she askedcuriously.
"Well, that depends on where you are going,"he said and smiled.
"Say I was sailing from Liverpool toAmerica," she said, pretending to pick a place at random.
"Passage shouldn't cost more than fiftypounds. Of course, if you wanted a private cabin, it would costmore."
