Chapter 4
Joshua Kingston was an angry man these days. He had worked for years to get his prize, and now it seemed taken away in an instant. Not two months ago, he had been hailed as one of the next representatives to the British Parliament. Now, he stood shamed, stripped of power, and nearly stripped of his liberty. He was under house arrest.
Things across the sea had been cooling toward him for over a year now, but the reason had not been known until recently. A close friend in London had found out someone in Ireland had been making complaints against him. Attempts to find out who had met with little success.
Word then came of Francis O'Donnell making noises against the increases in property taxes and the slow pace of improvements said money was supposed to be making. Kingston had brushed it aside. "No one likes tax increases; he had told his source. "It is just bluster."
By chance, Kingston met his uppity neighbor in Dublin. The meeting had been less than cordial, if not hostile. They had never gotten along. Francis was too high and mighty for the good of any Catholic, but he was also highly respected and listened to. The man had said to Kingston's face that he disapproved of his one-sided representation of the Protestant minority in their district and would make his voice heard against it.
That Kingston could not ignore. Efforts were made to find a soft spot to shut him up. The search proved fruitless except for O'Donnell land poor status, but few old families were any different after ruin of the famine.
Then David Drummond was seen late at night on the roads of his district.
"Now there was a dangerous troublemaker," Kingston said.
His alarm rose, suddenly knowing where his troubles came from.
If I could get rid of that menace, my place and power would be assured. Drummond has many enemies. I could expect great gratitude from all.
He ordered the roads watched to catch him.
Months passed, Drummond was spotted off and on in the first hours of the morning. He couldn't prove it, but Kingston wondered if he was being harbored locally. Could someone be telling tales on me? Considering when his troubles had started, Kingston got suspicious.
O'Donnell lives near where Drummond was seen. It was possible. He had other disgruntled neighbors, but Francis was the most outspoken. If he's allying himself with Drummond, He will pay the price.
Kingston sent men to the O'Donnell estate late in the evening with orders to do away with both O'Donnell and Drummond. He would be miles away, where he could be seen by dozens of distinguished and respected men when it happened.
The unintended result of his orders had been a massacre. The family and most of the servants had been killed. Some of his hired men had died too; but those bodies had been removed before authorities could arrive. Kingston learned of it that very night, as word spread like wildfire. He was as ashen as everyone else to learn the results of his orders. Yet, the overreach wasn't successful. David Drummond wasn't found, and the oldest son and daughter had escaped.
A day later, as the smoke cleared, fate had smiled on Kingston a little. The heir had been brought back to the estate dead to be buried with his kin. The daughter, Irene, might still be alive but seemed to have fled the country.
Kingston wished her good riddance. He didn't care about her. He had only wanted Drummond and her father. Well, maybe I do care. It depends on whether she witnessed anything she could report and if she reported it.
It was only when a different O'Donnell heir showed up on Kingston's doorstep that hope's light shined on him again. Harry O'Donnell had come after hearing the news to claim the ruined estate as his right. Further, he sought to enlist him, a nearby landowner, to help him do it. The fool knew nothing about what had happened, or Kingston's present problems. Harry O'Donnell's greed had been wet by what he thought he could gain from the tragedy.
Kingston considered Harry O'Donnell a gift of providence. He happily played the man like a fiddle, offering comfort for his non-existent grief and promises of help rebuild. His intention was to get this fool to look for the girl and shut her up.
Harry made his claim and saw a London solicitor involved with the investigation. He came back to Kingston right away with the news.
"This is in the strictest of confidence, sir, but I've found out Irene is alive," Harry said. "She has been told of my efforts to find her. She will endorse my claim to the estate for the dowry funds her father had settled on her. That's all," he said gleefully. "A prudent dowry for the estate is a price I'm willing to pay. Just to be good about it, I'm sending her some trunks I found packed for a trip she was taking. Looked like dowry goods to me, so I won't quibble over the loss of some China and silver. Apparently, she is engaged, so has no need of me."
Kingston could tell O'Donnell was relieved to be free of the responsibility. "I suppose you did right," he said, hiding his irritation.
He asked around and found out Irene had been betrothed to someone out of the country. The whole family had planned to leave the country for the wedding. He winced, wondering why he hadn't known that. It was possible her betrothed had been on the estate and helped her escape.
He wondered. He wondered if he might know the name of her groom.
I may be wrong, but I might be right.
Kingston sent his more trusted man off with a pocket full of cash to find and follow the trunks from the O'Donnell estate to the solicitor. "See where they go. When you know her location, send back word. If David Drummond is her fiancé, quietly finish what the others started."
