In Dublin's Fair City (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #6)

“Then I return to my question,” I said. “Why risk all this—your home, your position, your money? Surely you are one of the Anglo-Irish, aren’t you? You must be in favor of keeping English rule?”


“On the contrary,” she said. “I am fervently opposed to it. I rather think that your personality is like mine—we don’t like to be ruled by anybody. But if anybody's going to rule us, it should be our own people, with our own interests at heart. As for being Anglo-Irish—my family has lived in Ireland for four hundred years. I think that makes us Irish,don’t you? And my thinking is this: Ireland could have been a prosperous country—should be a prosperous country. But we have been brought to our knees by unfair taxes and restrictions, by the English siphoning off all the best in Irish produce for themselves, and by the restrictions placed on Catholics. We have been turned into second-class subjects in our own land. Most of our people are too cowed to speak for themselves. They need people like me and Cullen to stir them into action.”

“So you are prepared to risk everything.” “If need be.”

“I wish I had your kind of zeal burning inside me,” I said. “I have a strong sense of justice, but I don’t think I’d risk my life to change the government in my country.”

“We all have our own paths to follow,” Grania said. “I wouldn’t force anyone into following mine.” She got up. “Come. Let us go up to your room and make sure that you have everything that you need. I’m afraid it's no use trying to communicate with Francoise unless you speak French.”

We had reached the dining room door when an elderly man appeared. “Are you done with your breakfast, my lady?” he asked. “Quite finished, thank you, Bertie.”

She whisked me past him. My heart was beating rather fast. “My lady?” I stammered. “I didn’t realize. I apologize for my rudeness.”

“What rudeness?”

“Calling you by your first name.”

She laughed merrily. “My dear, within the Sisterhood and the Brotherhood we are all first names, and you are now a sister. Hence you are Molly and I am Grania.”

“I thought everyone had to have a nickname.”

“My sweet, it's impossible for me to disguise who I am. Everyone in Dublin knows Grania. They think I am a social butterfly, light, flippant, and therefore harmless. It is working wonderfully so far.”

With that she took my hand and swept me up to my room. My clothes had been put away and the window was open, letting in good, fresh air with just a tang of salt in it. It was the sort of place where Icould have been blissfully happy in other circumstances. At this moment there seemed no way to unclench the tight knot in my stomach.

“Go down to the library and choose reading materials for yourself,” she said, “because I do get a lot of visitors and I rather think that you should stay out of sight, just in case.”

As we came down the stairs again, the elderly retainer was returning from the front door, bearing a salver. “The post has arrived, m’lady,” he said. “Should I take it through to the morning room? There's a letter from Lord Ashburton.”

“Oh dear, is there?” A frown crossed her lovely face. “Well, I suppose I had better read it immediately.” She took the letters from the salver. I hesitated in the hallway, not sure what was required of me, but she turned as she reached a door and said, “Come, Molly.”

I followed her into a bright, uncluttered room with chinz-covered chairs. She went over to a ladies secretary, took out a letter opener, and slit open the envelope. I remained standing near the doorway, not because she had not instructed me to sit down, but because I was trying to recall why the name had been so familiar to me. Someone had used that name recently.

“Who is Lord Ashburton?” I couldn’t resist asking.

She looked up, amused. “My husband, of course.”

Almost as she said the words, I heard the echo in my head. Sir Toby Conroy at Ormond Hall saying, “She's quite the society lady these days—Lady Ashburton.”

I stared at her, trying to piece things together. “You’re Toby Con-roy's sister,” I blurted out.

She looked surprised. “Yes I am. Do you know Toby?”

“I went to your family seat, looking for Mary Ann Burke,” I said. “Why didn’t you tell me that you knew her?”

There was a long pause and then she said, “That is the Mary Ann you are looking for?”

I nodded. “She was your nursemaid, I believe. She ran off with a groom.”