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

“My Mary Ann? How extraordinary,” she said. “You know, it never crossed my mind that we were talking about the same person. I don’t think I ever knew her surname—well, servants don’t have surnames, dothey? And I think I always called her nursie, although I did know her name was Mary Ann. And as to running off with a groom—I had no idea what happened to her. One day she was there and the next day she wasn’t, and nanny said I was never to mention her again. I pined for her for quite a while. Are you absolutely sure she was the one who came to Dublin with Terrence Moynihan? I really can’t picture my Mary Ann running off with a revolutionary poet.” “Yes, I’m sure,” I said.

“Well, now I have a double incentive for sending out my spies to look for her,” Grania said. “Rest assured I’ll leave no stone unturned. If she's still in Dublin, I’ll find her for you. I’d certainly love to see her again myself. I was very fond of her. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to read my husband's letter.”

I wandered over to the window and found that it overlooked an elegant square of tall, Georgian townhouses. Nannies were pushing prams, tradesmen were making deliveries and ladies were out for a morning stroll. It all looked very jolly and very normal. I wondered what would happen if I just went to the front door of the house and then walked away. Would they come after me? Would I be allowed to leave the country?

Then, of course, I reminded myself that I wasn’t about to leave Liam and Joseph in the lurch. I perched on an upright cane chair and picked up a magazine. I had scarcely opened it before I heard a gasp from Grania.

“Oh, dear God,” she said.

“What's wrong?”

“Just about everything,” she said. “Gerald is coming home this weekend. He's bought a filly and he wants to see her race. He's sending the servants ahead, and he’ll be arriving on Friday, damnation.”

I looked at her with interest. She was the only woman I had heard swear, apart from those in the gutter who knew no better.

She looked up at me, frowning. “That's certainly put a spoke in our wheel, hasn’t it? I won’t be able to hold any more meetings at the house, and you and Cullen certainly won’t be able to stay here any longer. I suppose I could spirit you away to our place in the country, but you’d be no use to the cause stuck miles from the nearest railway. I’ll have towork fast to find a new place to hide you—and I have a luncheon engagement today too. And the Daughters of Erin are supposed to be meeting here tomorrow evening. Let us just pray that Gerald's servants don’t make it back here too quickly, or we’ll be in a real soup.” She got up. “I’d better go and wake Cullen. He's a notoriously late sleeper. He’ll have to help me decide what to do next.”

A few minutes later Cullen came stomping downstairs, unshaven and rather disheveled. I must say his current appearance truly made him look the part of the revolutionary and all the more glamorous in my eyes.

“I thought you said he was in London for the winter season,” he complained. “You were sure of it.”

“He usually is. How was I to know he’d take it into his head to buy a racehorse and then want to see it perform in Ireland before he had it shipped across to England?”

“Well, there's nothing we can do about it, I suppose,” Cullen said, “but it's the most infernal nuisance. I must be gone right away. I can’t risk anyone seeing me here.”

“We have a couple of days before the first of the servants arrive, I’m sure,” Grania said. “I have a luncheon appointment, but after it I’ll put my thinking cap on and decide where you could hole up.”

“Can’t you cancel the luncheon?” Cullen growled. “It is rather important, Grania. Not only my life, but the fate of the Brotherhood does hang in the balance.”

Grania laughed. “My darling, always so dramatic,” she said. “You did write the most lovely plays. I wish you hadn’t stopped.” She went over to him and stroked his cheek. “I can’t do anything that would set people talking, you know that. If Grania doesn’t go to lunch with her friends, they’ll be dropping by at the house to find out why. I promise you’ll be hidden away by the time Gerald gets here. Now do go and shave—you look like a South American bandit.”





Twenty-six


I wasn’t privy to the undercover maneuverings that were going on, but I had my bags packed and ready to leave should I be required to do so at a moment's notice. I reported this to Cullen when I encountered him in the drawing room.

“It's not quite as desperate for you, Molly,” Cullen said. “If necessary you could stay on for a few days. Grania is always showing hospitality to friends of friends, and I’m sure she’ll come up with a perfect story for you.”

“But it would be wiser if I weren’t seen,” I said, “since I closely resemble my brothers.”