Princes of Ireland - Edward Rutherfurd [319]
She must have made a good impression anyway, for some time later, when she happened to be standing alone, she saw the Gunner coming briskly in her direction to engage her in conversation. The military man certainly made himself very pleasant. He asked her questions about her house and her family, and she took good care to stress her origins amongst the loyal English gentry of Fingal. This seemed to reassure him, and soon he was telling her very frankly of the difficulties of his position.
“We must have order,” he declared. “If only all Ireland were like Fingal. But look at the troubles we suffer from. It’s not only the Irish chiefs who raid and plunder. Look at the killing of poor Talbot, or the kidnap of one of our own commanders not a year ago.” As Margaret had applauded the first, and knew very well that the Fitzgeralds had been behind the second, she contented herself with murmuring tactfully that something must be done. “Money’s the problem, Lady Walsh,” he confessed. “The king gave me cannon and soldiers but no money. As for the Irish Parliament …”
Margaret knew how the Parliament, like all legislatures, hated paying taxes. Even when the former Butler deputy had got his own men like Doyle into Parliament, they had still kept him short of funds.
“I’m sure my husband understands your needs,” she said firmly. This seemed to please the little Englishman, and he soon turned to the political situation.
“You know,” he explained, “with this business of the king’s divorce, we truly fear that the Emperor might try to use Ireland as a place to foment trouble for His Majesty. The Earl of Desmond, for a start, can never be trusted not to intrigue with foreign powers.”
He was giving her a hard look. Had he heard about her husband’s trouble over Munster? Was this a warning?
“My husband always says,” she answered carefully, “that the Earl of Desmond seems to live in another world from the rest of us.” This seemed to satisfy him, because he nodded briskly.
“Your husband is a wise man. But privately, I can tell you, we are watching all the merchants, in case any of them are in contact with the Emperor.”
And now Margaret saw her chance.
“That must be difficult,” she said. “There are so many merchants in Dublin trading with Spain and other ports where the Emperor has agents. Look at Doyle, for instance. Yet you surely wouldn’t imagine that the Doyles would be involved in anything like that.”
“True,” he conceded; but she saw him look thoughtful, and she felt a little thrill of excitement at what she had done. For hadn’t she just put the idea into his mind in the same breath as she assured him that the Doyles were innocent? She had never done such a thing before and it seemed to her to be a masterpiece of diplomacy. She could play Joan Doyle at her own game. Soon after this, the Gunner moved on, but not without giving her hand a tiny squeeze.
Two months later, William Walsh had heard that he would have a seat in the next Parliament, and she felt justified in taking some of the credit. Though whether the Gunner ever investigated the Doyles during his remaining time in office, she never discovered.
Another success for the family had been her son Richard. It had been his father’s idea that he should go away to Oxford. At first she had opposed the plan—partly because she hated to part with him, but also because, charming though he was, he had never shown much interest in study. “He has a good brain, all the same,” his father had insisted, “and since he’ll have no inheritance to speak of, he’ll have to make his way in the world. He must get an education. And that means going to England.” For although there had been high hopes for the Fitzgeralds’ new college at Maynooth, it had never developed into anything approaching a university. It was still necessary to go overseas