Moving to Essex did nothing to detract from the woes of Barry Lyndon. He had thought, after seven years abroad, that his career as a professional gambler would have greater success in England where it originated. Knowing the memories that would surface if he returned to London, he instead chose to reside in Essex after hearing stories and rumors of how gamblers had good luck at the tables there.

One evening, after an afternoon of wine and women, Barry went to a gaming club and was not surprised by the stares and whispers. Much like The Black Death, gossip was known to spread even to the city of Essex. He did his best to ignore it and joined a small group of nobles in a game of cards. Noddy was the chosen game, which had never been Barry's strongest suit. After the first hand, Barry took a moment to observe his fellow players. Most of them he knew as lord and ladies of nobility, but there was one face that he hadn't seen before, yet she would occasionally give him a smile of familiarity.

"Pardon, my lady, but may I ask your name?" Barry asked.

"Katherine Whalen." The woman answered, her Irish accent showing through.

"She's my wife's second cousin, Mr. Lyndon." William Howard, the Earl of Redbridge, added.

"Gentlemen, it's now time to place your bets for the next hand."

"I'll wager 20 pounds, sir." Howard said.

"You'd best alter your bet, cousin. Mr. Barry is a gambler of great reputation."

Barry was suspicious, to say the least. He was born Redmond Barry, but had his name legally changed to Barry Lyndon when he married his wife, Lady Lyndon. How could this woman know when almost every noble knew him only as Barry Lyndon?

Lady Whalen excused herself for the rest of the game and stepped outside. Barry, distracted by the woman, could not concentrate on the game and lost. It was a relief that he had very little money to lose.

After leaving the club, Barry saw Lady Whalen sitting by the fountain. Her large wig laid on the ground beside her, so her long, red locks tumbled freely.

"You should wear your wig." Barry said.

Lady Whalen turned to Barry. "It's the most dreadful thing in the world. My neck is soaked with sweat."

"What are you doing?"

Lady Whalen looked up towards the sky and sighed. "My cousins keep me prisoner practically. It's a reprieve to be in the fresh air. It makes me think of what I've left behind."

There was a moment of silence as Barry approached Lady Whalen. He studied her for a moment, and then spoke.

"Who are you?" Barry asked.

"Have you lost your ears? I'm Lady Kathryn Whalen."

"Inside, you addressed me as Mr. Barry. No one, outside of my family, has been told my birth name."

Lady Whalen stood and frowned. "You don't remember, do you?"

"Remember what?"

"Can you recall, Mr. Barry, a young widow and her child? The widow was named Eleanor and she was a schoolmate of Belle Barry."

"My mother?"

"Aye, your mother. After the death of her husband, Eleanor traveled from Cork to Barryville to spend a few months in the company of the widowed Barry and her son, Redmond. She brought her child with her, a girl of five years."

"I recall that well. Mother and our visitor gave me charge of the child. I grew rather fond of her, as I saw her as a younger sibling."

"You called the girl Cork."

"Yes, because of her birthplace. Her given name was Kath..."

Then, Barry realized just exactly who Lady Whalen was. He could hardly believe it, but after looking at her and recalling the face of the girl that he called Cork, there was no doubt in his mind.

"I can't believe it. Little Cork."

"Have I surprised you, Mr. Barry?"

"Greatly. Why, there was a time when you couldn't reach the first shelf of the pantry. You've grown so much."

"I still remember the day I left Barryville. Mama was ready to return to Cork and I threw myself on the floor crying. I didn't stop crying for three days. I stayed in Cork until I was fifteen, but mama thought I should marry well. What better place to find a nobleman than in England? Because of our connections, I was sent to live with my cousin the Duchess of Redbridge. She began to try to find me a good husband."

"Has she succeeded?"

Lady Whalen smiled. "No. My last suitor came when I was nearing twenty. He tried to lift my dress, and I bit his hand."

Barry chuckled. This came as no surprise to him. She always had been feisty as a child, often biting and scratching when she wasn't happy.

"He called me an animal and said I should be caged. Well, I was never caged as you can see, but I was tamed enough to begin appearing in society. When my dear cousin's husband took a mistress in London, he brought me along as a cover. It was then I heard about you and how you had married well, but that you had some misfortunes."

Lady Whalen's voice trailed off as her gaze fell to Barry's missing leg. When he noticed what she was staring at, she looked down at her feet.

"I'm sorry. I never figured the rumors of your duel with Lord Bullingdon to be true. I met him once...Did you take a shot at the bastard?"

"I didn't."

"It wouldn't have done no good anyway. His head is too thick, and no bullet can shatter that hard heart."

Suddenly, someone began calling for Lady Whalen. She muttered something profane under her breath and grabbed her wig off the ground, running towards the club.

"Lady Whalen!" Barry called, and she turned back to him. "How do you know Lord Bullingdon's character so well?"

Lady Whalen smiled. "I did have many suitors, Mr. Barry."

As Lady Whalen disappeared from sight, Barry felt his hands clench into fists. He always had a hatred for his stepson, but the idea that he called on a childhood friend of his brought on a new feeling, one that he never had experienced but at one point in his life: Jealousy.