My Lords of Strogue, Vol. 2 (of 3): A Chronicle of Ireland, from the Convention to the Union — John Shaqi
My Lords of Strogue, Vol. 2 (of 3): A Chronicle of Ireland, from the Convention to the UnionWingfield, Lewis
History
My Lords of Strogue, Vol. 2 (of 3): A Chronicle of Ireland, from the Convention to the Union
Wingfield, Lewis
Historical fiction; Ireland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
The dowager's words produced their effect upon Doreen, despite her
virtuous indignation. She no longer committed herself by indiscreet
communings with the 'scatter-brained young men.' She seemed to be
growing lukewarm to the cause as the decisive moment approached,
shirking responsibility in a way her character belied, to the surprise
of the patriots, amongst whom we must count Cassidy. The giant
remarked with pained astonishment that she gave him no grateful look
when he whispered about the pikes, when he hinted with dark nods that
Phil and Biddy had been busy in the night; and he reflected with
self-upbraiding that this change must be due to his ill-timed wooing.
No doubt it was presumptuous in a 'half-mounted' to aspire to an
heiress, but sure she should accept as a compliment a piece of
bungling for which her own charms were entirely responsible. He
resolved to be more careful in the future, striving to bridge the
breach by a nimble deference tempered by judicious sadness; and let no
opportunity pass of making himself useful to the young earl. His hands
were pretty full, thanks to my Lords Clare and Camden, who pursued the
stormy tenor of their way with an edifying steadiness of purpose. He
gladly rode errands for Lord Glandore, did shopping for the countess,
drank bumpers in the Castle-yard in company with Major Sirr, waited
about in my Lord Clare's anteroom; became a ubiquitous, faithful, and
generally useful personage. He brought news sometimes of the gravest
moment to the mysterious resorts where Dublin 'prentices were
pretending to play ball; which hints resulted more frequently than not
in a message smuggled in a loaf to the prisoners at Kilmainham and a
courier sent galloping far away into the country.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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