A Class Forsaken: A sweeping Irish historical romance saga (A Matter of Class Book 3) by Susie Murphy

Author:Susie Murphy [Murphy, Susie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2020-08-23T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

‘Get your fresh fish!’ bellowed a woman as she pushed her laden wheelbarrow across the street.

‘Get out of the road!’ a coachman roared back at her.

She made an obscene gesture at him and continued to holler about the freshness of her produce. He flung a curse in her direction and drove on, avoiding a collision with her barrow by mere inches.

Ben Bracken manoeuvred his donkey and cart carefully around the fishwife and carried on along the Dublin street. Cormac, sitting in the back of the cart with Bridget and Emily, hoped his daughter hadn’t caught the coachman’s swear word.

He tugged at his cap, pulling it more securely over his head. Liam had given it to him for his own had been lost in the fire, but it was looser and didn’t fit quite as well. He was also wearing a long coat that had belonged to Denis – of all the men, the footman was closest in height and stature to Cormac and the coat was actually a decent match in size. Despite their protestations, he had paid them both for their contributions.

He gazed around, absorbing their environs: the footpaths thronged with jostling men, the orphans begging on street corners, the cacophony of shouts and clattering wheels and hoof beats, the stench of the gutters. It was all so familiar and not one bit of it brought back a welcome memory.

In the midst of the smoky city, he longed for the green fields they had left behind. He felt the sting of regret deep inside him; their time at Oakleigh had been all too brief.

‘We will be back,’ he and Bridget had promised Ellen and Liam on their departure, but who knew how much time would pass before they could keep that promise?

Leaving his family’s cottage yet again had been a difficult parting, made easier only by the fact that he knew good people lived there and would look after it. Without the threat of tithe proctors or eviction notices, the Kirwans could now keep a happier home and Liam would get employment in the rebuilding of the manor house, so the arrival of their third child could be an impending event of joy rather than concern.

Next to Cormac in the cart, Bridget directed Emily’s attention to a cluster of four pigeons perched on the roof of a nearby building. They were eyeing the fishwife’s wheelbarrow with avid interest. Emily waved enthusiastically at the birds and encouraged her mother to join in; Bridget did so, but her smile was forced.

The loss of her own mother weighed upon her, Cormac knew, because she could not grieve openly. She had no mourning clothes to wear but, more than that, she was alone in her sorrow; no other person of her acquaintance suffered any distress over Lady Courcey’s death. Cormac could offer support but not sympathy, and Bridget’s closest surviving family was her uncle, Lord Walcott, with whom Lady Courcey herself had said she had become estranged. Bridget had written to her

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