The Legacy

Geneva crossed the room to the wardrobe and flung open the doors. She studied the contents, kept tidy by the upstairs maid, then shook her head. “This will never do. You’ll need new clothes.” She turned and faced him. “We’ll just have to leave a bit early and do some shopping in London before we deliver you to school.”

“We could always just go to Dublin and find what I need at Clery’s.”

“At a department store? No matter how much your father complains, our family fortunes have not sunk so low that we are forced to shop at a Dublin department store for your wardrobe. Your father will take you to his tailors on Savile Row, and have suits made for you. We can have them delivered to you at school when they’re finished.”

Edward forced a smile. “I don’t think Father will have time for a trip to London.”

His father had been even more preoccupied with business since the spring elections and Edward doubted that he’d accompany them. De Valera was now in charge of the government and he advocated a complete break with Britain and a sovereign Irish nation including those counties in the north. He abolished the oath of allegiance to Great Britain and withheld British land annuities. In turn, Britain imposed a twenty-percent duty on all Irish imports—including wool. The coal business still flourished, however, since Ireland had in turn imposed a tariff on the imports of English coal.

“And I certainly don’t need a new wardrobe. One or two suits will do. We wear uniforms most of the time.”

They hadn’t traveled to London for years, not since his mother had been caught up in the world of spiritualists and psychics. Once Grace had come to live with them, Geneva had seemed content to remain at Porter Hall.

She pulled a jacket out of the wardrobe and held it out in front of her. “There is an exhibit of French paintings at the National Gallery that I’m wild to see. And, of course, we must attend a concert or two. We’ll do some shopping and—” She smiled as if struck by a sudden idea. “Since your father won’t go, we’ll take Grace. Oh, it will be a wonderful trip, the three of us. Edward, go fetch her. Now. We’ll tell her all about it.”

“Mother, I’m not sure that Rose would agree. You know how she can be.” His mother had been much more careful with Rose’s feelings since she had nearly walked out two years ago and taken Grace with her. But lately, Geneva had become obsessed with Grace again and Edward sensed that another confrontation was just on the horizon. He had hoped it might happen before he left for school. That way, he would have the chance to smooth it over and soothe hurt feelings before either party took drastic measures.

“She agreed to let me hire a tutor for Grace, didn’t she? This is just another educational experience. Every young lady should see the great capitals of the world. And Dublin does not count,” she added, wagging her finger at Edward. “Now go. And bring her back. I want to give her the good news myself.”

Edward wandered out of the room, convinced that he wouldn’t be able to change Geneva’s mind. When it came to Grace and what she believed the girl needed, Geneva could not be dissuaded.

After the last row, it had taken nearly a year for Grace to feel comfortable again at Porter Hall. Her mother had gone so far as to pack their belongings and convince Farrell to drive them to Dublin. Grace had been hysterical, begging her mother to relent. It had taken Edward an entire day of pleading before Rose had finally accepted Geneva’s apology and agreed to stay—with a substantial raise in pay.

Taking Grace to London was a bold move. Unless… Edward smiled. Unless the invitation came from him. Perhaps if he presented his case, then Rose might agree. And since he was going away to school, it would be a chance for the two of them to have one last adventure together.

He found Grace in the yard, hanging bedsheets to dry in the warm breeze. Her dark hair was pulled back and tied with a ribbon and she wore a simple cotton dress. “I know my love and well he knows,” she sang softly. “I love the grass where on he goes.” She continued to hum as she reached into the basket and withdrew another sheet.

He snuck up behind her and grabbed her around the waist, causing Grace to scream in surprise. She turned and punched him in the shoulder. “I’ll die of fright one of these fine days,” she said. “And you will stand at my grave and weep, Edward Porter.”

“I will not,” Edward teased. “I’ll be glad when you’re gone. You’re a right pain in the arse, Grace Byrne. And I haven’t a clue why my mother would even consider taking you to London.”

She blinked in surprise, her mouth hanging open. Edward reached out and hooked his finger beneath her chin to close it. “Well?”

“London? Your mother wants to take me to London?” Her bright expression slowly faded. “I—I don’t think my mother will allow me to go,” Grace said. “And I can’t leave her. There’s so much work and she needs my help.”

“She can do without you for five or six days. And Mother will make sure she has help with the laundry and the mending while you’re gone.”

“I suppose I could ask,” Grace said.

“Now, there’s the tricky part. You must say it was my invitation, not my mother’s. Do you understand? That way, I’ll help to convince her. I will say it does you no good to study art history and then never visit a museum, or to study piano and never hear a great concert. It’s my wish that we have one last adventure before I go off to school. And she will agree.”

“Then let’s go ask her now,” Grace said anxiously.

Suddenly, the trip seemed so much more exciting. To explore a city as grand and as wonderful as London with his best friend would be an adventure to remember for a lifetime. He’d shown her all the pictures in the books, told her stories of his previous trips, the museums, the parks, the shops. But it wouldn’t be the same as experiencing it together.

When they reached the carriage house, they found Rose sitting near the window, darning stockings. She was hunched over her work, trying to see the tiny stitches through a pair of spectacles she’d purchased from a passing tinker. She looked up as Grace crossed the room. Edward waited by the door for an invitation to enter.

“Are you all right then?” A frown furrowed Rose’s brow. “You look as though the devil has been chasing you.”

“It’s the most wonderful news,” Grace said, trying to catch her breath. She glanced back at Edward and motioned him inside.

“What is it?”

“I’ve been invited to go to London. With Edward and Lady Porter. Isn’t that wonderful, Mama? I’m to see London.”

Rose’s expression turned cold and she stared down at her work, her fingers nervously toying with the needle and thread. “No,” she murmured. “I won’t have it.”

“But why?”

“I just won’t. You’ll not leave Ireland, not as long as I have breath in my body.”

Grace took a step back, as if stunned by the anger in her mother’s voice. “But why?”

Rose stood, tossing her darning to the floor, then crossed the room. She grabbed a linen towel and folded it smartly, then grabbed another. “You don’t think I know what Geneva Porter is about? She thinks she’s very clever, sending her son to convince me. But I see through her ways.”

“Mama, I don’t understand.”

“Tell her, Edward,” Rose said. “Tell her why your mother spends so much time and money on a servant girl.”

Edward shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean,” he replied, refusing to rise to her challenge. This battle for Grace’s soul had gone on since the very first day Geneva had held Grace. And it would continue until his mother or Grace’s departed this world.

“She has found a replacement for her dead daughter,” Rose continued. “And now, she’s decided to turn you into her daughter. The lessons and the clothes, the gifts. And now London. They’re all given at a price, Mary Grace.”

“She’s just generous,” Grace said. “It wouldn’t do to refuse. It would show that I have bad breeding.”

“Bad breeding?” She shook her head. “Tell me your name,” her mother demanded. “Say it. Say your name to me now.”

“Grace,” she replied. “I’m Grace Byrne.”

Tears flooded her mother’s eyes and she shook her head. “No. You’re Mary Grace Byrne. Mary is your given name. But because Lady Porter preferred Grace, I allowed you to be called that. But I won’t have her putting all these fancy ideas in your head. You’re a simple Irish girl who doesn’t need to be puffed up with silly dreams.”

“She doesn’t do that!” Grace shouted. “You’re lying.”

“I am your mother, Mary Grace. And you’d do well to remember that. Lady Porter isn’t interested in you. You remind her of her dead daughter and she’ll live off that fantasy for as long as she needs to grieve. When she’s finished, she’ll toss you aside.”

“Do you think I want to be a servant my whole life? Maybe I want something better. Lady Porter can give that to me.”

“You will be servant in this house, or some other house. Mark my words. If you think the Porters will ever accept you as their own, then you’re a bigger fool than I am, Mary Grace Byrne.”

“I’m going to London,” she said. “And you can’t stop me.”

Her mother stared at her for a long moment, then turned away. Edward watched as Rose’s shoulders slumped. For a moment, he thought she might collapse. But then she straightened her spine and lifted her chin. “Go then. You’ll make your own mistakes, you will. And when your heart is broken, then maybe you’ll finally know that I’m the only mother you’ll ever have.”

THE TRIP WAS MORE THAN Grace could have ever imagined. They’d taken the Lady Leinster, a night express steamer ship, across the Irish Sea from Dublin to Liverpool and then caught the train for London the morning of their arrival. She’d never thought to travel such a great distance. The farthest she’d ever been before had been an occasional trip to Dublin, a thirty-minute ride in the Porter’s motorcar. But this was a grand adventure and everything she saw was made more exciting because it was brand new.

She and Edward had stood on the stern of the ship and watched as Ireland faded into the misty evening horizon. Then, after a night in a comfortable cabin, they had breakfast as they watched England appear in the east, growing greener with each mile of water that the ship consumed.

A quick trip from the docks to the train station and they were soon onboard the London Midland Scotland line bound for London. Another comfortable compartment was waiting along with a light luncheon and a tea. Everything tasted so much better because she was eating on a boat or a train. The air seemed to vibrate with excitement and all the people she saw were wildly sophisticated. Grace knew, from that moment on, that she would always want to travel.

There was only one dark cloud hanging over the trip. She had left without apologizing to her mother. They’d barely spoken over the ten days between the invitation and her departure. Rose had waited for Grace to bend to her wishes and refuse the invitation, but Grace had been just as stubborn as her mother and was determined to go.

Grace hadn’t wanted to hurt her mother. And she knew her mother’s fears were not all imagined. But what harm would the trip do? And there was so much to be gained from it. Who was to care if it put grand ideas in her head or made her want more than she could ever have in life? Wasn’t it a greater sin to let such a wonderful opportunity pass by?

They took a small suite at the Savoy, a luxurious hotel with electric lights, gilt-adorned lifts and uniformed porters. Their room had a view of the Thames and the Waterloo Bridge. They took some time to get settled and after they’d unpacked, Edward invited Grace to take a stroll through the Embankment Gardens. Geneva begged off, deciding instead to have a cup of tea, then a short nap. They would have supper at five in the hotel dining room and would take an evening boat trip on the Thames.

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