Redemption - Leon Uris [307]
“I still keep my distance from the Brotherhood, but I’ve never closed the door on a man on the run.” Dary’s mouth tightened. “I am a Larkin.”
“Something else you think you’d like to tell me, Father?”
“You’re clever, just like your uncle. Rory lad, a priest is really a core of a man papered over with layers and layers of dogma, like the skin of an onion. An enlightened bishop and the Larkin name has compelled me to peel layer after layer off me to find if a real man exists in there.”
Dary stopped and closed his eyes and turned his back.
“Hey, man, what’s going on?”
Rory turned Dary around. Yeah…they could tell one another. Dary’s voice wobbled…. “I know a terrible truth. Ireland is never going to be free unless Irishmen spill blood for it. It does not make me a Brotherhood man, but it makes me understand those who are.”
“So, what goes on now with the layers coming off? Half-man, half-priest?”
“More than you know,” Dary whispered.
“And you know that I came to Ireland to find the Brotherhood. Is there anything left of it since the Rising?”
“Aye,” Dary said, “I’ll take you there.”
78
A small phalanx of guards briskly entered the dining room of the Russell Hotel, examined and okayed it. General Sir Llewelyn Brodhead fumed in and was ushered to the prime private booth on the corner window as his men took up their stations around him.
Brodhead was in a snit. There had been two days of solid argument between himself and London until, at last, he had to give in to orders to cease executions of the Rising leaders until further notice.
Just when we had the Irish on the run, Brodhead thought. Damned American editorials were now chastising the British! This was an internal affair, damnit! Putting the Irish down was the question, not winning a popularity contest in the United States. Well, he thought, 10 Downing Street will see. They’ll resume the executions within the fortnight, he told himself.
Whiskey arrived. Brodhead stared down to the street. Another squad of guards had cordoned off the General’s car, escorting vehicles and passage to the Russell Hotel.
Suddenly the mood turned from gray to gold as Caroline Hubble showed at the dining room door. She never failed to lift eyebrows wherever she appeared.
It was her suggestion that they meet openly and in a public place. Caroline was often seen in men’s lairs with high government officials, industrial leaders, and luminaries in the worlds of art and theater. And, lest we forget, it was risky to gossip about her. Since she had been a young lady, she had won the reputation of coming right on at a gossiper and filleting them in public.
Caroline toured the room, stopping at table after table for chitchat, so when the curtain closed her in with Sir Llewelyn, it caused no turned heads or wagging tongues.
Over sherry…his second whiskey…she unpinned her hat and laid it aside.
“I have to say,” she said, “I was delightfully surprised when Lieutenant Landers said…well, you found me…. Well, he said some lovely things.”
Brodhead blanched and cleared his throat. “I trust it was all proper,” he said.
“Good Lord, yes. After all, Llewelyn, we’ve been good friends for what? A quarter of a century, anyhow. When one becomes a widow, old relationships can take a turn.”
“I certainly didn’t mean to be leading a cavalry charge,” he said.
“Just putting your big toe in the water to test it out?” she said, taking control of the conversation. “Well, here’s to Landers, who delivered me with great skill and aplomb.”
They clinked glasses.
“Did Landers mention to you that the War Office has agreed to make an exception regarding his injuries if he goes on staff with me?”
“Well, I think he’d make a superior officer,” Caroline said.
“Agreed,” Brodhead nodded. “He’s not all that refined, backwoodsman and all that, but he has ‘future colonel’ written all over him. He is shrewd, resourceful, gets things done. And men are willing to follow him as, thank God, they are willing to follow me.”
“He told me he was going to think hard about staying in the Army,” Caroline said.
“Like