The Fire's Center Read online

  They ate together companionably, with Lucien reading interesting items from the paper to her, while she served him from the long sideboard, and went over his schedule for the day which she kept note of her in her own pocketbook, and would transfer into his each morning.

  On this particular Sunday of course, Riona’s head was filled with plans for the dinner party that afternoon. The last of the acknowledgements had arrived the previous evening.

  "All of them are coming." She rolled her eyes heavenward in disbelief.

  "There is nothing to be worried about, Riona," Lucien hastened to reassure her. "They are all crusty old men who only care about discussing their ideas on how to run the charity, money, politics, and of course, having a good dinner. Now, what else is on my schedule today?"

  "Mr. Lewis at ten o’clock, and Mr. Partridge at eleven."

  "And the guest are arriving at three, for dinner at four?" Lucien asked.

  "That’ s right," Riona confirmed.

  "Then I think I can squeeze in a visit to the head of the Royal College of Surgeons just for a bit of extra information on some of these men, you know?" Lucien said with a wink. "I’ll do my best to be back before three, though."

  "I hope so, Lucien. I’ll need you to check everything over one last time."

  "Don’t worry, you’ll be fine," he said gently as he patted her hand,

  "Now these men, is there anyone I shouldn’t sit them next to?"

  Riona and Lucien went over the seating plan, with Lucien at the top of the table as host and Riona at the bottom as hostess, with his brother and sister-in-law in the middle of the table.

  "But Lucien, Antoinette is family after all, whereas I am not," Riona began to protested.

  "But Antoinette is not the hostess of this household, you are. You shall sit opposite me, and the servant will obey your instructions, and yours only, is that clear?" Lucien stated firmly.

  "Yes, Lucien, perfectly clear," she agreed, even though she was filled with misgivings about how his sister-in-law would react.

  "Good," Lucien said as he rose from the chair and gathered his papers. "And besides, we're sticking to the story of you as my cousin, remember?"

  "Yes, Lucien."

  He went into the consulting rooms for his medical bag, and then stepped out into the foyer to get his cloak.

  "I shall see you by three then, my dear."

  Riona helped him put on his cloak, and he gave her a quick peck on the top of her head, before he disappeared down the steps and into his carriage.

  Riona heaved a huge beleaguered sigh, and as soon as Lucien was gone, she set to work. Her first port of call was the dining room. It was a long, wide room with oaken doors and a heavily polished wooden floor.

  There were two long sideboards on adjacent walls, a small door in one corner for the servant’s access, and a large window with an eastern exposure which made it seem quite cheerful despite the dark wood furnishings.

  The table was mahogany, as were the sideboards, and the row of matching chairs were high backed and covered in a tawny velvet.

  First Riona and two of the servants set the table, making sure the placards she had written out neatly on some thick parchment she had found were all in the right places. She went over the menu once more to make sure the correct knives, forks, and spoons were on the table, as well as the right wine glasses.

  She also placed the port and cigars within easy reach for when the ladies withdrew into the drawing room, as was the custom.

  Then she coached Niamh the maid and Bob the manservant on the most gracious ways to serve.

  Bob was not really a butler, more of a general servant who performed a variety of tasks. There was also Anna, who did general cleaning and serving duties when required, as well as the cook, Mrs. Kinsella, the odd job boy, Tom, and the coachman Edgar and two stable and house servants for heavier tasks, Ted and Sam.

  There was also a woman who came to do the wash three times a week, and the cook’s daughter Rose, who helped with cleaning and polishing when needed.

  All these servants were usually more than enough for a bachelor’s establishment, but with so many guests coming to dinner, it was all hands on deck.

  But at least Riona felt comfortable with them all. She was conscious of the difference in their respective status, with her being treated like a honoured guest, but she still wanted to do her share, so she donned an apron and went downstairs to check on the roast, the cakes, and the jellies.

  "Everything looks lovely, Mrs. Kinsella," she praised sincerely.

  "Does it look like the fancy dinners you’ve seen at the Woodhams’ house?" the older woman asked eagerly

  "Even better," Riona replied with a wink.

  The older woman beamed.

  When she was certain things were under control downstairs in the kitchen, Riona went up to check the drawing room.

  The drawing room was large and stately, the walls covered with a rich burgundy paper, the windows with matching heavy velvet drapes.

  A massive fireplace with a mahogany carved mantelpiece took up one of the long walls. There was a pianoforte in the corner, and various burgundy and black leather upholstered sofas and chairs arranged in small groups throughout.

  The centre of the room was dominated by a large wooden table with inlays of brass and dozens of different kinds of woods Riona could only begin to guess at. All she knew was that it was a magnificent piece, one her carpenter brothers would certainly admire if they were ever to see it.

  All of the guests were to convene in the drawing room before and after the meal. Riona made sure the decanters were full, and that there was plenty of soda water for later. They would also be having coffee in the drawing room afterwards, but she wanted the whole affair to have an slightly informal feel.

  Thus she left the magnificent table standing in the middle of the room, and rearranged some of the seats around the walls of the chamber, so that no one could go off into a corner for a tete a tete when there was committee business to be discussed.

  For a time, she would have to come in here with Lucien's sister-in-law, and try to entertain her. The thought of having to spend any time alone with Antoinette secretly filled her with dread, but Riona pushed the worried thought to the back of her mind. She had far better things to concern herself with than Lucien’s high and mighty sister-in-law. There was serious business to be undertaken.

  All the same though, she hoped she would make a good impression on everyone, particularly Lucien’s family, especially since she was supposed to be a cousin. And perhaps in time, truly one of them….

  Riona quashed the fanciful thought, and continued her inspection of the house.

  Soon the hours raced had passed. The clock struck three, but there was still no sign of Lucien anywhere. The knocker on the front door proclaimed that the first guest had arrived a moment later.

  In fact it was not one but three guests, the Messers Sturton, Benn and Norton.

  Mr. Norton was a dapper little man with russet hair and a thick beard and moustache, whose twinkling blue eyes gave him the impression of being a jolly little elf.

  Mr. Benn too, was quite jovial. He was a large burly man with a florid face, and thinning grey hair, despite the fact that he did not look to be more than forty.

  The last of the three men to enter, Mr. Sturton, was a more quiet, thoughtful man, with sherry brown eyes which seemed to take in the whole room at a glance, and dark brown hair going slightly grey at the temples.

  Riona knew he was a force to be reckoned with from what Lucien had told her about him, and also knew he was one of Lucien’s closest friends.

  After the maid divested them of their cloaks, they entered the drawing room, and Riona was forced to introduce herself shyly and excused Lucien for not being at home.

  "I’m sure one of his cases must have held him up," she apologized.

  "He shouldn’t be working so hard on a Sunday", Mr. Benn commented. His obvious admiration for Lucien shone in his kind eyes.


  "You should talk!" Mr. Norton mocked. "We all came early to discuss the interviews tomorrow with him, didn’t we?"

  "Have you appropriate candidates to shortlist, then?" Riona asked interestedly.

  Mr. Sturton began to outline all the names, which Riona jotted down in her pocket notebook.

  Then they began to discuss the respective merits and demerits of each.

  "Let’s just hope the better ones come. I imagine not many of them would want to work at a charity clinic in one of the poorest areas of Dublin," Riona observed at one point during the conversation.

  All the men, after their initial surprise over Riona’s role as Lucien’s secretary, were quite happy to use her as a sounding board for their ideas.

  Thus, when Lucien entered the room at about quarter past three, and apologized for being late, Mr. Sturton said, "Not to worry, old friend. Riona here has been keeping us hard at it. We know who we want to tomorrow. We just need to think of some ways of making them say yes."

  Riona filled him in on the notes she had made in her pocket book, and that business just about decided, more of the guests arrived.

  Some were bankers, lawyers, and priests from all the major religious denominations, while others were ordinary citizens eager to do something to help their fellow men. What was obvious to Riona, however was that they all had some very set ideas as to how it was to be done.

  Riona was asked on more than one occasion to side with one of the other of the men, until finally she said, "I think the one question we need at ask ourselves, gentlemen, is not who is wrong or right, but what the people we shall be serving at the clinic really need."

  All eyes turned to her then.

  "Go on, Riona, tell us what you mean," Lucien encouraged softly, with a warm smile.

  "The only way to find out what they need is to ask them. If you ask the parlourmaid and the manservant, a governess or a cook, a blacksmith, or a carpenter, or even a fisherman, they would have different ideas as to how to make their business successful, but they would all define success in the same way.

  "They all want to be free from want, comfortable enough that they don’t have to fear if they fall ill, or their children need new clothes. They would want to have enough food on the table, more than one set of clothes, especially enough warm clothes for the winter, a warm home, with a good fuel and water supply, and money to pay a doctor, or to live on until they get better, if they do happen to fall ill.

  "I think reading and writing would also be something many people would strive for, so that if they do have any leisure time, they won’t simply use it staring into the fire. We have to feed the mind, not just the body, though of course the body has to come first."

  All of the clergymen present nodded wisely at this.

  "And of course, not many of them have leisure time at the moment, They work long hours, and have just enough time to do the basic household chores, and feed themselves, before they have to go back to work the next day. I’ve seen the factories, gentlemen, as have we all. Long hours without fresh air, in backbreaking labour, just to earn a crust, is not meeting these people’s real needs."

  Some of the men shifted uncomfortably at the implied criticism of the way they were running their works, but they remained silent, such was the conviction of Riona’s speech.

  "Your clinic is an admirable institution, gentlemen, but you must remember you will only be treating the sick who come to you. In many cases they only ever go to the doctor or a hospital to die. You have to win their confidence, and also have to consider that in many cases you might well be able to save their lives, but some of them really have no lives worth living.

  "You might cure them for now, but the causes of their suffering and illness might not be wiped out so easily. Not unless we do what we can to help in all aspects of their lives."

  "So what do you suggest then, if not simply curing them?" Mr. Sturton asked, genuinely interested.

  "You need to educate them as well, give them supplies to help them. Make sure they wash and clean, give them soap, teach them ways of preventing lice and fleas and all sort of other parasites. Make them realize that living next to open sewers is unhealthy. Make sure the city has adequate fresh water supplies that can’t be contaminated with human or animal wastes," Riona said candidly, drawing on all she had seen since she had left Donegal.

  "I say!" one of the men grumbled.

  "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend anyone," Riona apologized hastily with a shy glance at Lucien to see if he were angry with her. His golden eyes were staring fixedly at her, but she was unable to gauge his reaction.

  Some murmuring had, however, broken out, and so Riona tried to justify her remarks.

  "The conditions I’ve described, we can see around us every day. We are a prosperous country, yet some people here live no better than in darkest Africa. I don’t think it is entirely their fault, that they are lazy, but ignorant, as some might argue. I sincerely believe that with better access to water and drains and washtubs and so on, these people will be cleaner and infections will be less likely to spread."

  Riona sat back then, as the men again began to discuss her ideas amongst themselves.

  Lucien let them chat for a few moments before asserting, "I agree with Miss Connolly. I think if these people were taught a better way of life, and assisted towards it in the manner she has just mentioned, they would adopt it. The clinic will be just the first step. We must teach them, not just put them back in their squalid hovels."

  There were some murmurs then about just how they could carry out such an ambitious plan, but Mr. Sturton piped up and reminded them, "It is early days yet, gentlemen. We don’t have to try to accomplish everything at once. Any ideas we have, we can submit to Lucien and his charming young helper here, and we can take responsibility for implementing some of these initiatives once we are all agreed."

  There was universal agreement to Mr. Sturton’s proposal, and they began to bombard Riona and Lucien with ideas.

  Lucien broke off the conversation after a few minutes, when the maid announced the last of the guests had arrived.

  Riona turned around to face the door then, eager to at last meet Lucien’s sister-in-law. She did so want to make a good impression upon Antoinette Woulfe, Riona thought eagerly, as she heard two sets of footsteps approaching.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Quentin Woulfe entered the drawing room first, looking debonair in a dark grey suit. But his wife was the one all eyes fastened upon, as Antoinette swept into the room upon a cloud of perfume and silk. She was a beauty, Riona had to admit, despite her envy.

  Tall, thin and statuesque was the only way to describe Antoinette Woulfe. Her turquoise silk dress moulded her body to perfection, and her hat was the latest Parisian fashion as well. Her golden blonde hair was done in an elaborate coiffure which must have taken a maid hours to do, and her green eyes, slanting upwards slightly and fringed with thick brown lashes, gave off an aura of allure and promise which most men could not fail to be affected by.

  "Well, Lucien, my dear, it has been a long time," Antoinette drawled, holding out her hand continental-fashion to be kissed, before sweeping her gaze around the room to see what other conquests she might be able to make.

  Her eyes lighted on Riona for the briefest second, and hardened into stones.

  Lucien took her gloved hand briefly, but merely bowed over it, and avoided the sharp green glance Antoinette now directed at him demandingly as he turned to his brother to shake him by the hand.

  Then he announced, "Thank you gentlemen, for all your wonderful ideas, which we shall make careful note of. But now, since my brother Quentin and his wife are here, I think we can go into dinner now.

  "Mr. Benn, will you kindly escort Miss Connolly, and Mr. McMahon, Mr. Henry, you can take in Mrs. Woulfe."

  The men eagerly continued discussing Riona’s ideas as they headed for the dining room, so that Lucien waylaid Riona and Mr. Benn and said, "Thank you for looking after everyone so we
ll, my dear."

  She smiled. "My pleasure, sir."

  "I just hope the dinner is edible," Riona added sotto voce.

  Lucien patted her on the hand reassuringly, and winked.

  Mr. Benn, a happily married man who took pride in being gallant, was delighted to escort Riona into the dining room. He too was one of Lucien’s oldest friends, and though curious about Riona’s role in the house, he took it at face value, and didn’t pester Riona with any impertinent questions.

  As it was she had her hands full making sure all the guests were served, and every so often nodding or giving an imperceptible shake of her head to the servants’ inquiring glances.

  At last all the food was on the plates and the wine served, and the first course was pronounced excellent by all.