Chapter Seventy

"Yes I was." Sharon replied, as she added "I will tell you about it later." She had always planned on telling Heath about the afternoon. Sharon was not a good liar, and there was the issue that someone could have recognized her and Eamonn at the wharf.

The town gossip vine was fast, and it would get back to Heath one way or another. She thought that if she told him first, it would come across as aboveboard as it had been. Sharon was aware of the cold fury he could exhibit if something or someone crossed him.

"Would you like to have a glass of madeira?" Heath asked several hours later, after dinner and putting the children to bed. Heath and Sharon were walking down the hall to the staircase when he asked the question. She decided that talking to Heath in his study – his favorite room – while he had a glass of bourbon was the way to go.

The study was not a room that Sharon cared for – it was too dark, too much wood, and large oversized furniture. However, she knew that men liked to have their own space, with lots of somber wood and furniture, along with various dead animal heads on the wall.

Heath poured her a glass of madeira, and then poured himself a glass of bourbon. She waited while he took several sips, as she asked him about his day on the range. Sharon listened as he told her about some happenings on the range, as they were trying to finish the branding. He had reassured her that the calves felt nothing, but she did not believe it.

"You said you were in town all afternoon?" Heath had seen her wince when he mentioned the branding and decided to change the subject. He looked over at her and noticed that she had changed her dress. It was smooth cotton in a honey color, trimmed with yellow and dark brown ribbon. The sleeves came to her elbow, and the neckline was rounded. Heath was trying not to notice how pretty she looked.

"Eamonn took me out sailing on the river. He had always talked about doing it back Ireland, but we finally had the chance." Sharon tried to sound casual, as if she was talking about a stroll around the park. In truth the feelings that had been awakened in her body that afternoon made it hard.

Heath, upon hearing Eamonn's name felt a cold, hard wave of hate rise up in his body. He swallowed the rest of his bourbon in a large gulp, as he took in what she had said. It galled him that the overdressed royal navy lord, with his self-pleased expression had spent the whole afternoon – alone -with his wife.

"You spent the afternoon with Eamonn – all by yourselves?" Heath was using every ounce of his self-control, hoping that maybe he had heard wrong.

"We were on the river, on a boat – there were lots of other craft on the river." Sharon smiled brightly, not wanting to think about the private inlet that Eamonn had taken her to. She did not care for the way Heath's eyes had narrowed into almost slits. The anger was so apparent, and she thought back to Paul, and the beatings he had given her.

"I, as your husband, have an issue with you spending all afternoon with another man." Heath seethed, as he made the statement in a cold, condensing tone.

"You are my husband in name only! We have a business arrangement, not a marriage." Something had snapped in Sharon – she would never grovel to a man again. "I have fulfilled every requirement of our agreement."

"I specifically said no dalliances, I recall." Heath looked at Sharon and was almost taken aback at her reaction. She was not apologetic or repentant, and he could almost swear that she enjoyed taunting him about what their relationship was.

"It is not a dalliance – Eamonn is an old friend. I spent over three years living with his family. They were so good to me." Sharon retorted quickly, not liking where his mind was going.

"Sailing? Really? You probably spent all afternoon in his hotel room. I have seen how he looks at you." Heath, in one part of his mind, knew he was letting his emotions get the better of him.

"How dare you make that allegation!" It hurt her because she had been honorable with Eamonn. "Is that what you think of me?" It was galling that he would jump to that conclusion so quickly.

"What else should I think? You have spent the last two weeks chatting, waltzing, and dining with the man. And now sailing?" Heath felt his pent-up frustrations come to the surface, having had to watch Eamonn being too familiar with Sharon.

"I have never been anything other than honest with you. There was no reason for me to tell you about this afternoon, but I did." Heath was cold and unfeeling, but Sharon knew the agreement had made. Yes, she would take care of her children, but was not going to give up Eamonn's friendship. After all, she would get nothing from Heath.

"This conversation is going nowhere, so I am going to go to bed. Have a good evening." Sharon sat up, and tilted her chin as she made her announcement. Heath felt like he was a bug being dismissed, and clenched his fists as he realized that she thought him in the wrong.

Sharon spent the night in her bed – cold and lonely -as she imagined Eamonn. Her only experience had been with her late husband, who used her like an animal, and it was over before it had even started. She recalled the Heath she had known all those years ago, when they had arrived in the valley. He had been kind, sweet, and gentle.

At that time, her only experience had been the kiss she and Eamonn had shared in the folly. It had made her body tingle, among other things. Heath's kisses had been stirring, and she had known that he would do anything for her. However, she had understood better than he did what the social norms were.

No, as she turned in her bed, she thought about Sean and Tara – she had been a penniless widow, who needed to take care of her children. Sharon would not walk out on Heath, no matter how cold he was.

Heath went to his room – it was in fact one of the guest rooms, but very plain. He had done nothing to personalize it – after all it was just a place to sleep. His anger intensified, as he thought about how Sharon could not see what the issue was. All this talk about family was a smokescreen for Eamonn's real intentions, Heath was sure.

He changed into his night shirt, and after getting in bed, he tried to read to no avail. The scene in the study, and all the times he had seen Eamonn embrace Sharon played over and over in his mind. The rest of the night was spent tossing and turning.

It was two days later, and Eamonn rode up to Sharon's house. He recognized Pablo, and greeted him by name, remembering his last visit. Sharon came out on the porch as he was talking to the man, and she took his breath away.

She wore a simple day dress of polished cotton with a daffodil print. The fabric was light, with very short sleeves, and a rounded neckline. The weather had been hot – not the far east but very warm – Eamonn admired how Sharon always looked impeccable no matter what.

They exchanged greetings, as Pablo took his horse. Sharon noted the canvas bag that she had given him the tea in. Further under his arm was a wrapped package that she looked at with interest.

"Could we sit out in the garden?" Eamonn asked, not wanting to sit her lovely parlor with the painting. It was just what he would want in his house, but knew it was never to be.

"Of course; just so you know it is still a work in progress. I will be installing a fountain" Sharon led him around to the back of the house. Eamonn saw the beginnings of a French garden, with flower beds laid out in a medallion design. He could see where the fountain would be, in the center.

On one side of the medallion, instead of a floral bed, there was a furniture grouping of a small table, chairs, and a love seat. The furniture was wicker, with cushions that had a floral design on them. The other side of the garden looked more utilitarian – he took it to be a kitchen garden to supply herbs and vegetables.

"What type of fountain are you thinking of? By the way, your design is top notch." Eamonn admired how Sharon had used the space to the best advantage.

"Something rococo with curves, and flowers. I ordered it from a catalog, and hope it looks like the picture." She smiled, pointing over at the house "that is the dining room there, we are going to do French doors, and a terrace."

"I think it will be lovely." Eamonn announced as he offered her the canvas bag, bringing his mind back to the present. She took the bag and lifted out the bottle of Irish whiskey.

"This is top notch" Sharon looked at the bottle and then gave Eamonn an approving glance. "And just for you, the biscuit recipe." She passed him a vellum notepaper, with her initials on top in French script.

"I have this for you. When I am at sea – there is a clearing house for mail – they know where we are and arrange for mail to be at port call." Eamonn passed her a calling card with a Portsmouth address. "Just so you know, I am going to be touring America for the next four to six weeks. I will then be back in London, waiting for my next posting. I am hopeful that I will have a port assignment, so you can write to me directly. I will let you know all the details."

"Let me give you my card – you will know where I am." Sharon had been prepared and passed one of her calling cards. "I hope to hear about your American adventures – and sketches." She looked at him with fondness – they were good friends – the times in Ireland bound them together.

"I have another gift for you." Eamonn passed her the wrapped package. He noted how she took it, and carefully unwrapped the gift. It was a pastel sketch of the inlet, with the magnolia tree; there was a sailboat there, with a couple on board. The man had blonde hair, the woman red hair, and they were sitting closely together. It had a frame of bleached wood with golden detail.

"Eamonn – wow – how" she was speechless, as she looked at the picture. "I am so touched." Sharon admired Eamonn's ability and said as much to him. "You are so talented."

"Just have to say" Eamonn had seen how she was looking at him, and it made him ache. "So if I was a different sort of chap – well the type of chap who was not honorable, well I would ask you to chuck all this and come away with me." Even as he made the statement Eamonn knew it would not happen, but he wanted Sharon to know how much he cared for her.

"So flattered – and just so you know, if I was a certain type of woman, I would be all in." Sharon looked over at Eamonn – he was so handsome, and she knew how good his body felt against her. However, she knew that they would not turn their backs on their commitments.

"But we are not those type of people." She reached over and took his hands in hers. "We have good lives, and we have our friendship. I know that you love the navy, and I love my children. We have always been honest with each other, and how the world works."

"So true, and I admire you so much! You are an amazing woman, and I understand the choices you have made." Eamonn stated, and paused to admire her coppery hair, large dark blue eyes with their black eyelashes and pale skin. He noted how the neckline of her dress showed a great deal of pale skin – no it was not decollate, but it showed her long neck and creamy skin.

"I need to say my goodbyes." Eamonn announced, wanting to do anything but. He thought back to their last goodbye in Ireland, and how he had to reassure himself several times that it was for the best. He felt this was Ireland all over again; at least this time they could stay in touch.

"Of course. I am sure you have a great deal to do." Sharon could see the love – and sadness – in his eyes. "Let me go put these in the house, and I will meet you out front. I will have Pablo bring your horse around." She stood up, gathering the picture and bag with her.

Eamonn let himself sit in the garden several minutes longer, letting himself imagine things he could never say out loud. He was glad that Sharon had done so well for herself but was not surprised. She was the most incredible woman he had ever known.

Sharon went into the kitchen, and smiled at Pablo, who was sitting at the table with Luisa the house maid, and Mariposa who assisted her in the kitchen. After telling Pablo about bringing the horse around, she went to her room. She put the picture on her desk, and the whiskey in the drink's cabinet, before going back downstairs.

Eamonn was outside, and for a moment he and Sharon stared at each other. He wanted to take her in his arms so badly but did not trust himself. Pablo bringing the horse around broke that moment, and he bowed to Sharon instead.

"Thank you for this time together. It means so much." He had mounted his horse and looked down at her. "Go dtuga Dia leat mo ghrá." Eamonn said in a husky voice, as he inclined his head.

"Go dtuga Dia leat mo ghrá." She watched him ride away, making it a point to keep a smile on her face. Once he was out of site, she went into the house, and up to her room. She looked at the picture he had given her, on her desk, before she burst into tears, which lasted for a while.

The windows in her room were open, facing the back of the property. She heard Sean and Tara coming into the stable yard – they had ridden out earlier that morning. The barn cat at the Big House had had kittens, and they wanted to go see them. It worked out because of Eamonn's visit – further they routinely rode their ponies between the properties.

Sharon stood up, and went into the washroom, where she put a cold cloth on her face, followed by her cucumber cream. It was good at taking care of puffy eyes – in fact it was her most requested product which did not surprise her. She was all too familiar with ladies who hid sad sorrow.

Her children came bounding into the kitchen, and she was there to greet them. Sharon scooped them up into her arms, and they all fell in a heap on the flagstone floor. She listened to the descriptions of the kittens, and then how Silas had let them help him gather berries.

"What do you think of a picnic? We can go to the stream in the east pasture?" Sharon suggested; it was one of their favorite places. Seeing the happiness on their faces made her feel better about her life.

* Go dtuga Dia leat mo ghrá – Gaelic for May God go with you my love