Treason at Lisson Grove - Anne Perry [78]
“For the harpist,” Charlotte said quickly. “I have never heard more delightful music.” She was fishing desperately for anything to say.
“Then don’t let me stop you from speaking to her,” Talulla retorted. “I’m sure you’ll find her agreeable.”
“Do you know her?” Charlotte asked eagerly.
“Only by repute, and I shouldn’t wish to trouble her,” Talulla responded sharply. “There must be so many people eager to speak with her.”
“I would be so grateful if you would introduce me,” Charlotte asked, ignoring the rebuff.
“I’m afraid I cannot help you,” Talulla was making it impossible to conceal her impatience. “I am not acquainted with her. Now, if you don’t—”
“Oh!” Charlotte assumed an expression of dismay. “But you said she was most agreeable.” She made it a challenge, not daring to look toward where she had seen Narraway talking to Ardal Barralet.
“It was the polite thing to say,” Talulla snapped. “Now really, Mrs. Pitt, there is someone I wish to speak to, and I must hurry or he may leave. Excuse me.” And she all but pushed Charlotte out of the way, obliging her to step aside.
Charlotte could see Narraway still talking to Barralet at the far end of the room. Talulla was heading directly toward them. Charlotte went after her, but several steps behind. They were halfway down the aisle between the chairs when Talulla stopped abruptly.
Then Charlotte saw why. A little knot of people had gathered around where Narraway had turned from Ardal Barralet and was facing Cormac O’Neil across a short open space of floor. Phelim O’Conor was looking from one to the other of them and Bridget Tyrone was just to his right.
For seconds they stood frozen. Then Cormac drew in his breath. “I never thought you’d dare show your face in Ireland again,” he said between his teeth, staring at Narraway. “Who’ve you come back to betray this time? Mulhare is dead, or didn’t you know that?” The hatred trembled in his voice; his whole body shook and his words were slurred.
A ripple of emotion ran through the gathering crowd like the passage of a storm through a field of barley.
“Yes, I know Mulhare is dead,” Narraway replied, not moving backward despite Cormac’s closeness to him. “Someone embezzled the money he should have had so he could go abroad and start a new life.”
“Someone?” Cormac sneered. “And I suppose you have no idea who?”
“I hadn’t,” Narraway answered, still not moving, although Cormac was within two feet of him now. “I’m beginning to find out.”
Cormac rolled his eyes. “If I didn’t know you, I’d believe that. You stole the money yourself. You betrayed Mulhare just as you betrayed all of us.”
Narraway was white-faced, eyes brilliant. “It was a war, Cormac. You lost, that’s all—”
“All!” Cormac’s face was now contorted with hate. “I lost my brother, and my sister-in-law, and my country, and you stand here and say that’s all …” His voice choked.
There was a mutter from everyone around the group closest to him. Charlotte winced. She knew what Narraway meant, but he was rattled and being clumsy. He knew they were against him, and he could prove nothing. He had no backing from London now; he was alone, and losing.
“We couldn’t both win.” Narraway regained his self-control with an effort. “That time it was me. You wouldn’t have shouted betrayal if it had been you.”
“It’s my bloody country, you arrogant ape!” Cormac shouted. “How many more of us have to be robbed, cheated, and murdered before you get some shadow of a conscience and get the hell out of Ireland?”
“I’ll go as soon as I prove who took Mulhare’s money,” Narraway answered. “Did you sacrifice him to get your revenge on me? Is that how you know all about it?”
“Everybody knows all about it,” Cormac snarled. “His body was washed up on the steps of Dublin Harbor, God damn you!”
“I didn’t betray him!” Narraway’s voice was shaking and growing louder despite his efforts to keep it down. “If I’d done it I’d have made a better job. I wouldn’t have left the money in my own damn account for others to find it. Whatever you think of me, Cormac, you know I