Shannon's Daughter Page 2

  The Shannon men all bore a certain resemblance, tall and broad, with slightly ruddy complexions and thick, straight hair ranging from blonde to light brown. Michael, fourteen years older than his nearest sibling Patrick, was already graying and his frame carried significant extra girth, aging him beyond his fifty-six years. His eyes, however, as bright a blue as his daughter’s, sparkled excitedly as he eased himself into a chair and accepted the sandwich Peg laid before him.

  “Done and well done!” His nodding comment to Peg apparently referred to the negotiation. The two exchanged triumphant smiles before he extended a hand across the table. “Michael Shannon. Welcome to the family, young man. Please forgive me for missing your train. I assume Peg here’s taken good care of you?” His accent was American, but there was an underlying cadence reminiscent of his Irish parentage.

  “Yes sir, excellent care. I’m sure I could have found my way to the estate, but I am grateful for the welcome.”

  Michael grinned over his teacup. “Estate? Don’t let Addie hear you call it that. It’s nothing but a farm, son. A good old working farm with little in the way of frills. Oh, the house is large enough, but the doings there are simple. Good food, plenty of kids and dogs underfoot, and a lot of rehashing the past over a glass of ale at twilight. No talk of politics, though. Strictly forbidden. You may find it dull after the big city, but we all look forward to these little family get-togethers.”

  “But, Dad, it’s not dull. It’s positively chaotic! I’m worried Kendall won’t be able to find a minute’s peace there. I don’t suppose we could keep him here, at least until his mother arrives?”

  With a wink in Kendall’s direction, Michael laid a hand over his daughter’s. “Now, darlin’, you can’t be taking him to raise. I’m sure Kendall here is quite capable of holding his own with the likes of your cousins. And you’ll be there to protect him most of the time, anyway. Addie would never hear of him bunking with us. She told me she’d thrown Jack in with the younger boys, just to make room for your new friend here.”

  Peg scowled. “Fine, but we have to stay with him for a while, to see that he’s not overrun with brats. Not to mention the older ones, who think they’re going to get him off all to themselves.”

  Another wink, this time accompanied by a sly grin. “That wouldn’t be your cousin Maeve you’re thinking of, would it? I hear Maeve has quite an eye for the fellows, and she’s not shy about staking her claim.”

  “Dad!” Blushing, Peg lowered her eyes, but not before glancing at Kendall to see how he was taking this news.

  “I’m sure I look forward to meeting the entire family, sir. Admittedly, the numbers may be a bit overwhelming at first. But your daughter has promised to help me get acquainted.”

  Michael barked a laugh and held out his arms to the girl. “And she’ll do a fine job, I’m sure. Come here, darlin’, give your old Dad a hug. Forgive me a bit of fun at your expense?”

  Kendall watched as she slid onto his lap, her feet almost touching the floor. “I forgive you, Dad, but try to remember that I’m not a child anymore and don’t embarrass me in front of nice young men.” She ruffled his hair with one hand, slipping the other into his jacket. “Now I think it would be lovely if we stopped for ice cream on the way to the farm, don’t you?” Deftly withdrawing his wallet, she removed several bills, which she folded and tucked in her own pocket. “And you owe me for the cab fare, plus an hour’s interest.”

  Kendall grinned drowsily at the memory. Peg had thus far managed to overshadow his impressions of all the other Shannons. Last night, while Maeve, blonde and pretty enough, and her sister Agnes, solemn and bespectacled, fussed over him, and the younger children volleyed incessantly for his attention, he kept his sights on Peg until she left at nearly midnight. He admired her ease with the older family members, as she sat on a low stool near her father’s chair. She wasn’t forward or precocious; rather her occasional comments were astute and appropriate. Far more astute than those of her older cousins, in fact. Jack, he was quick to ascertain, was a show-off, full of his own cleverness, while Maeve appeared no more than the typical teenaged miss, all fashion and film-stars. Agnes alone seemed to have a head on her shoulders, but she also had a way of staring through those eye-glasses which he found himself wanting to avoid.

  A gentle rapping disturbed his doze. Hoping it was one of the smaller children, he resisted answering. Maybe they’d take pity on him and let him sleep late this morning. Another moment, and to his astonishment, the door opened and a voice called softly into the dimness.

  “Are you awake? I just wanted to make sure you survived the night.” A shadowy figure stepped into the room and closed the door. “Kendall, you are awake, aren’t you?”

  Not only awake, but keenly aware that between the sheets he wore nothing more than his skin, he clutched the covers around his ears. “Peg! Don’t you know it’s highly improper for a young lady to barge unannounced into a man’s bedroom?”

  “I didn’t barge. I knocked.” Going to the window, she drew back the curtain. Gray daylight flooded her face as she turned toward the bed. “Better this young lady than a pack of obnoxious brats. They were all in the kitchen just now begging to wake you. I thought I should give you a head’s up.”

  “Thank you. Now if you wouldn’t mind stepping outside. . .”

  “Oh, you don’t have to dress for breakfast. Everyone just goes down in their pajamas or robes or whatever.” Her gaze roamed the room. “Did you unpack your. . . dressing gown, I suppose you call it?”

  He ground his teeth. “Peg, I can manage on my own. Just run along downstairs and tell the others I’ll be there shortly.”

  Rather than leaving, she eyed him suspiciously. “Fine. But I should warn you, I don’t care for being told to ‘just run along’ anywhere. What’s wrong with you this morning? You look scared to death.”

  “Peg, please. At least step into the hallway until I can pull myself together.”

  She turned to the door. Just as her hand touched the knob, she glanced back. Too hastily, Kendall sat up, letting the sheet drop to his lap. “You sleep in the buff, don’t you?”

  “What?” He snatched the sheet snugly beneath his chin.

  “You sleep without pajamas. Connie O’Hallaron’s brother Bill does too. Sorry. I didn’t think you were the type.” With that, she opened the door and made her exit, leaving him with the uneasy feeling he’d disappointed her.

  Breakfast in the McGill household was an informal affair. Children and their attending parents came and went, while some of the elders lingered over vague planning sessions or rambling reminiscences. By the time Kendall had dressed and found his way to the kitchen, a low-ceilinged cavern of a space which also served as breakfast room, only a few adults and Peg remained at the long table. Michael, Sean and Maureen were huddled together in conversation, while Addie hovered nearby. Peg barely looked up while he served himself at the sideboard, but when he stood uncertainly searching for an opening among the abandoned place-settings, she patted the spot next to her chair.

  “I saved you a space. Hannah, that’s Aunt Addie’s cook and housekeeper, doesn’t clear until everyone’s gone. Was there enough food left for you?” She eyed his plate of fried eggs and toast. “Wasn’t there any sausage?”

  “This is fine. I’m not much of a breakfast man, actually.”

  “I’m not much of a morning person, period. But Dad doesn’t like to miss a meal out here.” She idly shoved a fork into her boiled egg and picked at the white. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Fine, until someone decided to barge into my room.” He hoped his tone was sufficiently teasing.

  “I won’t apologize for that. Another five minutes and there would have been brats crawling all over you. Considering the fact that you were. . .well that would have been embarrassing, wouldn’t it?” A grin twitched the corners of her mouth as she took a dainty bite of toast.

  “Point taken. I hope that can remain our little secret?”

  “Oh,
yes. I wouldn’t want Maeve to get wind of it.” She wrinkled her nose. “She’d take advantage of an opportunity like that, don’t think she wouldn’t.”

  He stifled a groan. “What’s on the schedule for today?”

  “Since it looks like the rain will last all day, Aunt Addie suggested we go to the pictures this afternoon. There’s a theater in town, but the matinee isn’t until five. Until then, I expect there’ll be the usual silly games, you know, dominoes and cards, but the little ones will just run around screaming most of the time.”

  “Why do I have the impression you aren’t fond of small children?”

  “They’re okay. I’m just not used to them. I’ve never been around kids, you see. Oh, at school, but that doesn’t count because the Sisters keep them pretty well under control. Here, they get on my nerves a little, running free like that.”

  “You don’t like to run free?”

  She smiled wistfully. “Oh, I like freedom. I just don’t like things so disorganized. Someone could get hurt.”

  He took a moment to consider this girl, barely more than a child herself, who seemed so concerned for everyone else’s welfare. “At the risk of seeming impertinent, may I ask you a question?”

  “Sure. If I think it’s impertinent, I may not answer, though.”

  “Fair enough. Exactly how old are you?”

  “Fifteen. Next month. How old did you think?”

  “Oh, at least that.”

  “Now my turn. How old are you?”

  “Twenty-one. Twenty-two on Boxing Day.”

  “I would have said older. You seem very sophisticated compared to Jack, who’s even a little older than you. Maybe it’s because you’re a musician. And Jack’s sort of an overgrown brat, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “He seems a bit full of himself, I’ll admit.”

  “Doesn’t that sort of come with the territory, though?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “He’s a Shannon, after all. He’s in line to inherit at least part of his father’s kingdom.”

  Kendall barely escaped choking on his tea. “Is that the way you see your family, as royalty?” Ironic that he’d thought of them in just those terms.

  She shrugged, painstakingly folding her napkin and tucking it beneath her plate. “I think that’s how other people see us. In America, we don’t have royalty. We just have the wealthy and the famous. Over here, it seems everyone wants to be connected to the aristocracy. Dad says Patrick and Sean will probably be on the honours list next year for their services to the banking industry during the war. Of course, Aunt Maureen is already aristocracy. She’s the daughter of a marquis, or something, you know. Why shouldn’t Jack be full of himself? He’s in line to take over all that someday, along with Edwin, of course.”

  He was struck once again by what a study in contrasts this girl was proving to be. Her well- scrubbed face, framed by shining chestnut hair, today worn loose and tied back with a wide white ribbon, wore an expression of thoughtful resignation. Sitting ramrod straight in the chair next to him, she had the presence of a princess herself, regally bearing the weight of her station.

  “Is that your situation as well?”

  She didn’t hesitate beyond a little sigh. “I suppose. I already sit in on board meetings at the bank sometimes, and always at the foundation. Dad says it’s only fair for me to know what’s going on, since I’m the only one to take charge if something should happen to him.”

  Kendall felt the surprising desire to reach out, to offer some form of comfort. He understood too well the responsibility of an only child; he’d borne it himself in the years since his father’s death. But he’d at least enjoyed a normal childhood. He knew that Michael’s wife had died while Peg was still a baby, assuming his mother’s facts were correct.

  From down the table, Michael called, “Hey, you two! Have you solved the world’s woes by now? Don’t let her chew your ear off, Kendall. My daughter isn’t afraid of the sound of her own voice.”

  “Dad! What did I tell you about embarrassing me in front of nice young men?” Instantly, her face twisted into a grin and her eye’s sparked bright blue. “I’m just helping Kendall sort out all the cousins. Who’s important and who’s not.”

  With a yelp of laughter, Michael rose from his chair. “Are you ready for your history lesson, then, darlin’? Or would you rather play with the others?” His wink implied he was sure of her answer.

  “Oh, yes. I’ve been ready for days.” On her feet, she shot Kendall an intuitive glance. “Maybe Kendall would like to join us. He should know about our ancestors too, now that he’s part of the family. Wouldn’t you like to see the old photographs and hear Dad tell his only slightly biased tale of how the Shannons shaped the history of Ireland?”

  His hesitation lasted long enough to catch the sound of riotous laughter emanating from the bowels of the house. The “silly games” had apparently begun. He was sure he heard Maeve’s voice over the others, inquiring as to his whereabouts. “I’d like that very much, sir, if I wouldn’t be intruding.”

  Peg turned her smile on him, a veritable beam of sunlight in the gray room. “Super! You might want to take notes. Every generation had a Michael and most had a Finola. It can get really confusing after a few hundred years!” Grabbing his hand, she tugged him to his feet. “Quick now, before Maeve picks up your scent!”

  As he followed her into what appeared to be an office just off the kitchen, he questioned the basis for his choice. Was it simply that he wanted to avoid the others? Or did he really prefer this little girl’s company? He quickly amended that thought. Peg might be young, but by no means was she a child. He found her stimulating, a breath of genuinely fresh air, something he realized he was sorely in need of.

  Chapter Three

  By Friday afternoon when Patrick Shannon and his bride of six months arrived, glowing from three weeks in the Mediterranean sun, Kendall had found a place, of sorts anyway, among the Shannons. While the majority of the time Peg remained firmly glued to his side as combination sympathizer, chaperone and tour guide, he’d managed to join in some of the “silly games” and even passed a few pleasant hours in the company of some of the older “kids.” For the most part, they were a warm, easy-going lot, seeming to assume he was of the same temperament.

  Only Maeve and Jack proved challenging; Maeve due to her uninhibited flirting, and Jack because he appeared skeptical of Kendall’s sincerity. He commented more than once how “good” it was of him to take time away from his London mates to come all this way just to meet a bunch of rowdy strangers. It occurred to Kendall that if Jack were half as clever as he fancied himself, he might succeed in making an outsider feel unwelcome.

  While Maeve proved easy enough to fend off with a bit of good-natured banter, Kendall had yet to break through Jack’s façade. Peg advised him to ignore both of them. They weren’t, in her estimation, worth his trouble.

  “Jack’s too immature for you, anyway. All he thinks about is football and shooting things. And Maeve has a boyfriend, you know, someone from town Aunt Addie doesn’t approve of. Agnes told me she sneaks out to meet him at night. She’s just toying with you, to see if you’ll fall for her. Maeve’s too pretty for her own good.” Peg cast a glance in the direction of her cousins, currently engaged in a noisy game of croquet on the farmhouse lawn. From where she sat with Kendall in the shade near the kitchen door, they could hear Hannah shooing some of the younger children, and the subsequent clatter of their exodus. Peg paused, listening long enough to be sure they weren’t about to be disturbed, before pinning him with an arch stare. “You do think she’s pretty, I can tell.”

  “She’s a very pretty girl. But don’t worry, she isn’t my type. Girls like Maeve can be dangerous.” He instantly questioned the wisdom of such frankness. More and more, he forgot Peg’s age and found himself treating her as a contemporary.

  “Dangerous how?” Her unwavering gaze demanded an answer, causing him to regret the comment all together.r />
  “Oh, not really dangerous. But a fellow has to be careful not to lose his head. Pretty girls can make a man forget his manners.” Lame, he knew. And Peg wasn’t having any of it.

  “You mean they can seduce a man, when all they meant to do was flirt with him.”

  “What do you know about seduction, young lady?”

  “Seduction is as old as time. It’s even in the Bible. Connie O’Hallaron says a lot of what’s in the Bible should be banned, like those dirty books from the library. But since it’s in the Bible, we get to read it anyway.”

  “This Connie O’Hallaron, is she really a suitable friend for you? And while we’re on the subject, how do you know what her brother wears to bed?” He welcomed the change of subject though it wasn’t much more appropriate. At least it involved someone outside the Shannon family.

  “Connie O’Hallaron has been my best friend since the first day of the first grade. She may be a little bit nutty, but she knows me better than anybody. We’re like sisters, I guess. We fight sometimes, get each other into trouble, but we always take up for each other. There are five kids in her family, and they sort of let me pretend I’m one of them, when I need that kind of thing, you know.”

  He knew instinctively what she meant. “It gets lonely sometimes, doesn’t it, being an only child.”

  “Sometimes, but there are benefits too. Being friends with someone like Connie gives me the best of both worlds. And as for your question, I only know Bill sleeps in the buff because Connie told me. I’ve never been in his bedroom.” She smirked, her eyes sparkling. “You’re the only man I’ve ever been that close to seeing naked.”