Page 34 of A New World for the Irish Daughter

She had no right to him, she knew. No right at all. He and Jessamine looked well together, Jessamine so tall and willowy, Brendan so solid and affable, and meanwhile Maggie herself had been kissed by another man—a handsome, kind and charming man—except Philip had not spoken to her since. This was the first afternoon off Maggie had had since that brief kiss before they’d gone in to dinner, and it felt like it might as well have not happened.

Maggie watched as Jessamine, laughing, laid a hand on Brendan’s arm and then she turned away, her stomach churning. After an hour and two coupes of champagne, she couldn’t bear anymore and she slipped out to the back porch for some fresh air.

The night was clear and cool, the first stars starting to glimmer on the horizon. Maggie leaned against the porch post and took several deep lungfuls of air. It was only a few moments before the back door opened again, and Maggie knew who would be standing there.

“Had enough of the party?” Brendan asked, stepping out onto the porch and closing the door behind him.

“No, just tired,” Maggie said as she kept staring at the sky. She wished he hadn’t come out to find her, and yet at the same time she was glad he had. It was, she thought wearily, ever thus.

“They work you too hard at that hospital,” Brendan said as he took a step closer.

“Not too hard,” Maggie replied. She was conscious, achingly so, of his nearness, but she kept her gaze on the distant stars. “But hard enough.”

Brendan was silent for a long moment, and Maggie didn’t dare look at him. “You don’t seem as settled as you did before,” he finally remarked quietly.

Maggie let out a trembling laugh that sounded almost wild. “Don’t I?”

“No,” Brendan replied, and took a step closer. “You don’t.”

She shook her head, still not looking at him. “I suppose I’ve realized how complicated things are,” she said after a moment.

“What is complicated, Maggie?” She heard a tenderness in his voice that made her both angry and glad.

“Everything.”

She thought of Miss Jessie and the girls, and how they both feared and loved her, and perhaps Miss Jessamine had similarly confused feelings for them. Were they her business assets or were they her daughters?

She thought of Jenny getting married to a man three times her age who had bought her service as a prostitute, been willing to use a fourteen-year-old girl as awhore… whom he now loved.

And then she thought of Philip kissing her and then saying nothing about it, notoneword, while she could not decide how she felt about the whole matter. As much as she liked Philip, she didn’t think she held that sort of affection for him… and yet perhaps she could, if he’d showed even a modest amount of interest. So far, he hadn’t.

And then there was the Browns’ kindness that was genuine yet clearly touched by pity, because how could itnotbe.

And Brendan standing beside her right now, close enough that she could hear him breathe, and yet moments ago Jessamine had been laughing and touching his arm.

“Everything,” she said again.

She thought also of Danny and her father, how utterly exasperating they were, utterly feckless and reckless and charming and hurtfully indifferent, and how she knew—sheknew—they would never change, and yet she still loved them. She loved them so much it hurt, the only family she had, the onlypeople anchoring her to who she’d been, as well as who she was, whom she wanted to be.

“Everything is complicated,” Brendan agreed. He lifted his hand as if to touch her arm, and then dropped it again.

“I think I used to believe things were simple,” Maggie said slowly. She still couldn’t look at him. “Black or white, right or wrong. I was sure about so many things… and I’m not anymore. I’m not sure aboutanything.”

Brendan chuckled softly. “Well, then, it sounds like you’re wise.”

Maggie sighed. “I’d rather feel sure.”

Brendan shifted where he stood. “Even if you were wrong?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, and this time he did touch her arm.

“Maggie—” he began, but then the back door opened, and Jessamine stepped out onto the porch.

“Brendan?” she asked, her voice light, musical. Maggie instinctively stepped away, and Brendan’s arm dropped to his side. “They’re about to start the toasts.”

“Well, I can’t miss that,” Brendan said on a laugh, and he walked away from Maggie, leaving her alone on the porch.

As the door swung shut behind him, Maggie let out a breath. Always, always she was hoping for something that wasn’t going to happen, thatshouldn’thappen. Always waiting for Brendan, even when she convinced herself she wasn’t.