Never Broken by Kathleen Fuller Read Free Book Online

more pronounced since Rory had arrived from Dublin four days ago.
    “You must rest, lass,” he told her as they made their way past the grand staircase to the front door. “Let Brigit and her staff serve the meal.”
    “Nay,” she said, her shaky voice belying her weariness. “I’m fine.”
    “I’m worried about you.”
    She halted her steps and turned to him. “I appreciate your concern, but how can I rest knowing the villagers suffer? How can I lie in my comfortable bed and sleep while the children cry out in hunger?” She straightened her slumped shoulders. “We have to help them, Rory.”
    He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand. “I will rest, cousin, when every mouth is fed.” With renewed energy, she strode toward the front door into the cold morning air.
    Rory shook his head. Since his arrival he had become aware of the reality of the situation, and it was one Sara refused to accept. The mysterious blight that had affected the potato crop had wiped out some of the poorest families on the estate, the ones who worked the smallest plots of land. In the best of times, they lived a hand-to-mouth existence.
    It was impossible for the Gormleys to feed all the starving people that huddled outside their home. Their own supplies were dwindling. Rory had also discovered that his uncle was ill. As Edwin grew weaker in his malaise, William made more decisions, threatening to move the family back to England and leave a squire to manage the manor in his stead. Rory was certain that whoever his cousin chose to handle the family’s Irish affairs would be void of concern for the tenants. In that way, he understood Sara’s urgency and obligation, for he didn’t want to ponder the fate of the tenants if the Gormleys fled to England.
    The one bright spot was that since his return, he’d managed to avoid Lady Jane. Or rather, she avoided him, as well as Sara and Uncle Edwin. She had cloistered herself in her rooms, leaving the running of the manor to Sara. A strange move on her part, but he wasn’t about to question it. He would continue to be grateful that he was able to stay at Gormley Manor without engaging in petty arguments with his aunt. There were far more important things needing his attention.
    He reached the front door, the frosty air an ominous contrast to the warmth inside the manor. Walking toward the gates, he saw Sara arranging a pot of oatmeal and tin bowls on a small table. Two servants stood at the ready to help with anything their mistress needed and make sure the starving people didn’t storm the estate. The entire staff remained eager to follow Sara’s instructions, knowing she was the only thing that stood between their bellies staying full and joining the ranks of villagers.
    Rory set the tray on the table next to the porridge pot and watched the steam rise from the thick mixture of oats and hot water.
    “Open the gates, Sean.” Sara poured a ladle of oatmeal into a bowl and took a small scone. She took a deep breath, her smile tight and forced. “Breakfast is ready.”
    Memories of Rory’s childhood hit him square on as he looked at the outstretched hands of the hungry people. He remembered many times as a child in Limerick when his mother sent him out to beg for food, sometimes making him take Colm with him. “They’ll pity two bedraggled lads more than one,” she would always say. And she’d been right, for they never failed to find one or two kind-hearted souls who felt sorry for them.
    He grabbed a piece of bread, placing it in a young girl’s grimy hand.
    “God bless ye, sir,” she said, her voice low and weak. Round, brown eyes, too large for her face, peered at him from behind a curtain of limp black hair.
    He choked down the lump in his throat. “And may He bless you, wee lass.”
    She stuffed the crumbly bread into her mouth.
    He searched his mind for something else to say, something to bring her a small measure of comfort. But he could think of nothing. What