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ISBN-13: | 9781463411343 |
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Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
Publication date: | 05/31/2011 |
Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
Format: | eBook |
File size: | 33 MB |
Note: | This product may take a few minutes to download. |
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The Murphy's
By Janice K. Jarosz
AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2011 Janice K. JaroszAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4634-1136-7
Chapter One
The Murphy'sBy Stephen Lavoie
County Cork (Irish: Contae Chorcai) is the most southerly and the largest of the modern counties of Ireland Cork is nicknamed 'The Rebel County', as a result of the support of the townsmen of Cork in 1491 for a pretender to the throne of England during the Wars of the Roses. In more recent times, the name has referred to the prominent role Cork played in the Irish War of Independence (1919-1921) and its position as an anti-treaty stronghold during the Irish Civil War (1922-23). Attractions include the Blarney Stone and Cobh (formerly Queenstown), the port where many Irish emigrants boarded for their voyage to the United States, Australia, Canada, New Zealand or South Africa and also the last stop of the Titanic, before departing on its doomed journey The city of Cork is the second largest city in Ireland.
In the beginning, there was Mary Margaret and Bernard Murphy. Mary Margaret was a Matthews, the rich and affluent Matthews, rich in tradition and a family of long standing. Close, some would say, with well thought out rules of conduct and a heavy penalty for any that would break those rules. The homestead was near Cork, Ireland, with luscious acres and rolling hills, many outbuildings and a large barn. For the family kept many carriages and riding stock with frisky, high-spirited horses that you rode at your own risk. It was a happy place with the servants capable and always on tap.
Life was easy for the family, for they also controlled a mattress firm in the town of Dublin itself, and the trip to town was made by carriage with a double trace of spirited horses and Murphy as the Groom. Tall and handsome, Bernard was a good worker with more intelligence than the job called for. But jobs were scarce, and he was glad to be employed. He had told himself many times that he would not be a groom forever. No, he had his eyes on the sea and the big ships that ply the oceans. He had already spoken to friends of the possibility of a berth on one of these ships and had been given encouragement.
Right now, that was not what was bothering Bernard. He had noticed a few shy, covert glances coming his way from Mary Margaret He also noticed how she also waited until he was not away on a trip with the carriage before asking him to saddle up for her, so that she might ride by herself in and about the emerald green acres. There was no way that Bernard could meet Mary Margaret socially – never. They were confined by society to remain forever apart. Bernard knew this and he acted accordingly.
Mary Margaret could care less, and was determined by some way to marry that tall, handsome Murphy – son of a peasant and, by birthright, not permitted to look higher than his own low social status. So Bernard pretended not to notice Mary Margaret's advances. He was, of course, aware that she chose him above all others to wait on her. She was forever complaining that the stirrups were too short or too long, and he adjusted them continuously. She rode sidesaddle, as did all women folks of those days, and any other way would not be considered ladylike.
So the days passed by and they were pleasant. Bernard had a lot of chores to do besides just taking care of the stock. He was competent and was well known for this trait, and so was in demand for rides into town with the carriage. Then, too, with Murphy sitting up there on the front seat straight as a ramrod, it made a pretty picture. So Mary Margaret did not always have her way in retaining his services just for herself. She did not dare complain to her mother or draw attention to her interest, lest she be suspected of having romantic intentions. That would be disaster and would call for a long ocean voyage for Mary Margaret, or a trip to school on the continent. She was due to go to Paris to a finishing school, but so far had avoided it. The tall Murphy - strong, handsome, and intelligent - absorbed a lot of glances from Mary Margaret.
As for Bernard, he never wavered from his purpose or his honorable intentions. Secretly Mary Margaret dreamed of having him for her husband while Murphy dreamed of the sea and he was closer to getting a job than ever before.
The sailing ships were beginning to give way to steamers, and men were needed with good mechanical ability to keep the engines going and in good repair. Bernard was fascinated by the mechanics of engines and spent his spare time thinking about them and how they worked with steam. He knew he could master them and that he'd prefer the space below deck, as there he could be on his own and keep his independence. Mary Margaret really was not in his plans. He had too many other things on his mind.
A job like the one he wanted was not easy to obtain. His family had no influence but he could use the recommendation of his employers. So Murphy made himself busy repairing the carriages and, even when they didn't need any care. He took them apart and made suggestions for new parts and other certain changes until he had built up a steady reputation as a mechanic and master of the carriage. He liked this new role, and gradually shifted the responsibilities of the horses onto others but, of course, he was always at Mary Margaret's disposal.
Life was simple. When Murphy was not driving the carriage into town, he busied himself in the carriage shop. There were always parts to make and fix. Mary Margaret would send word to him by one of the house servants when she wanted a horse available, and she would specify just what horse she wanted.
Lately, she asked for a high-spirited horse to take on a morning ride. Murphy asked her not to ask for this particular horse as he said it was dangerous and, if scared by some animal or other, it was sure to spook and be unmanageable. He did not know or suspect that Mary Margaret asked for this horse in particular just to get into a conversation with Bernard.
Not one to graciously heed advice, Mary Margaret steadily maintained that she was the master of any horse on the estate and considered this horse just like any other – a beast she could ride and ride well. She knew in her heart this was not true, but how else was she going to get into a spirited exchange with Bernard? So she continuously asked for the meanest horse available. Bernard, on the other hand, moved this horse up into the carriage service whenever possible just to avoid being in line for a ride, but when the carriage was not in use he had no choice.
At one time, he shyly suggested to the Master of the House that this horse was not fit for riding and should be used entirely for the carriage work. He was agreed with by the Master but nothing was done about it. That was when the tragic day arrived. The carriage was inactive, and the horse available.
Mary Margaret arrived that fateful day at the stables and asked for the horse in question and Bernard asked one of the other servants to saddle it up for him, as he wanted to ask Mary Margaret again to leave this horse home and take another less spirited horse. Of course Mary Margaret would have none of it. She gave all the reasons that she could master this horse and, in the end, was lifted up into the saddle by Bernard, of course. She waved a silly goodbye, happy that she had won her argument, and secure in the thought that, when she married him, she would win all her arguments in the same manner.
The Fateful Day
The sun shone beautifully, the breezes were soft and warn. It was truly a lovely day to be alive, and Mary Margaret was glad she was riding by herself. She was happy in the thought that Bernard was concerned for her welfare. She had no regard for her own safety and fear never entered into her mind in any way. She was delightfully happy and spurred her horse on to a gallop. She would have a long ride today.
No one ever found out what startled the horse, but suddenly it went out of control, bucked, and ran off like a shot. Mary Margaret was thrown skyward and came down hard and, as luck would have it, right on a rock. She was unconscious immediately and nowhere was there any help. She was all alone on the ground, injured badly, unconscious, and needing medical attention right away, but none was available.
It must have been an hour later when the horse came up to the stables alone. It was calm now and longing to be in its stall. Bernard was inside the carriage shop and one of the other servants called him out to see the horse. His heart skipped a beat, as he knew instantly what had happened. Remembering the direction she had taken, he set out on the run to find her. He stopped at intervals to shout, but he got no answer. No one was out on the rolling acres today - no one at all.
He knew the general path that she might have taken, and tried to see if he could pick up her tracks. There were many, but the last one - the freshest - was beyond his comprehension, so he gave it up. He continued searching. He suspected what had happened and now had to slow down, as she could have been thrown as much as ten feet from the path. It was getting dark. He called, as he could think of nothing else to do, and hurried in a zigzag fashion back and forth through both sides of the path. He had no luck and now, with the light half gone, he had to give up looking for tracks. He tried to think what she had worn, and he hoped it was something light, so he could see it at a distance.
He redoubled his efforts and was soon gasping for breath. Murphy was strong, but he was no runner. Still, he continued bravely searching through the thicket. He thought, "What if she's dead? What will I do?" He knew that he cared for Mary Margaret, even though he could not admit that to anyone.
Murphy finds Mary Margaret
It was a contest now whether he could find his lost darling before the darkness set in. He was alone. The other servants had not appeared, as yet, to help him in his search. He would have to do it on his own, and in a way he was glad that no one else was with him. He would hate to have them see his face when, and if, he at last found her. He had to cover more ground than he was doing if he was to succeed in finding her before darkness enveloped the bridle path.
He started on a zigzag course again and searched ten feet either side of the horse path. In this manner, he could cover more ground. It was good he did, as it was almost completely dark when he found her. She was only a few feet off the path, and the white in her shirt showed up at a good distance. He called to her, but got no response. What had happened was immediately apparent. She had been thrown from her horse and she had landed on a rock, the body first and then the head. It was a nasty wound and he knew at once that she had a concussion. His first thought was that she would never ride again, and that proved to be true. She never did ride again.
He lifted her gently into his arms and started back the same way he had come. He did not try to give her any medical attention. Her ailment was beyond his capabilities. His only thought was to get her to a doctor at once, to someone who would know what to do and what to expect. She stirred once and tried to talk, but he did not encourage her to talk further. Slowly and very gently he took Mary Margaret into his arms, felt her brow and whispered in her ear, "Please forgive me, I should have been more watchful please do not leave me now - I will bring you safely home."
There were now others out searching for her, but they were not hunting in the right direction, and they were beyond his present help. He did not try to call them, but continued on the path home. His mind was full of remorse. He regretted that he had not insisted strongly enough on her taking another horse. Poor Bernard was in despair, for he thought his love was on the way out, out of his life for good, and he cherished the few moments he was carrying her.
It was a long way back at a steady walk. Soon, he was discovered by others and a great hue and cry went up. They crowded around him, but he would not have any offerings of help. He strode resolutely for the great house, and was glad to see the lights. As he crossed the threshold, he was met by the rest of the household and guided to a room where he gently placed her on a bed. She looked white and deathlike, the blood streaming down her face from the cut on her head. He could not speak and, presently, when he was asked what had happened he was unable to utter a sound.
He was asked to leave the room and was taken to the kitchen and given a shot of brandy and a rest before he found his voice. "I told her and I told her not to take that horse, but she would not listen." He stopped and thought a minute. His grief swelled up in his throat and he found talking difficult, but he managed to say to Mr. Matthews, "If you remember sir, I asked you to reserve that horse for the carriage only and not to use it for riding." Mr. Matthews replied, "What horse are you talking about? Was she thrown? Is that how she got such a bump on the head?" Murphy realized that what was apparent to him was not apparent to the rest of the household. He collected his thoughts and said, "She rode the red horse against my recommendation. I told her that someday something like this could happen, and tonight it did, and I was helpless to stop her."
The doctor had been sent for and shortly a carriage drew up. Bernard thought he had better retire to the servants' quarters until he was sent for. This he did, but not before the master of the house, Mary Margaret's father, gave him a long quizzical look. Mr. Matthews decided that tomorrow he would question the rest of the servants and find out what was between Bernard and his daughter Mary Margaret. He knew there was more than met the eye. Now, he had a sick daughter on his hands, but if he found a budding romance between his daughter and Bernard, he would put a stop to it at all costs.
Bernard's Days are Numbered
Bernard was no fool and he knew his days on the Matthew's estate were now numbered. It was against the code, the strict code, for a servant, any servant to marry the Mistress. No matter how much he was liked, he would have to go, and that would be the end of it. As competent as he was, he could be replaced very easily.
The Master wondered why he had not noticed the romance before. Another idea came to him and he wondered how far the romance had budded, so he decided to question the servants. He knew from his long association with Bernard that his morals were above reproach. However, Bernard could not hide the fact that he was terribly in love with Mary Margaret It took a terrible accident to bring attention to the relationship. If not for the horse, things might have been different, but it is a safe bet that Murphy would never have married her. As it was, the romance was out in the open, and the consequences of his forbidden feelings would eventually send him into another part of the world.
If Mary Margaret dared to marry this commoner, she would be driven from her home. An iron curtain would be drawn, and no one in the household would ever speak to her again. She would be excommunicated, and she would have to search her soul to find out if it was worth it But Mary Margaret was a very sick girl right now, and was hovering between life and death. She would never be completely well, but she was young and strong and she would survive, as the young usually do.
It was months before she was told what had happened. She was thrilled that Bernard had found her before anyone else and had carried her to the house. She was told that he would allow no one else to touch her and insisted on carrying her alone.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Murphy's by Janice K. Jarosz Copyright © 2011 by Janice K. Jarosz. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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