Meet A Forlorn Hope’s David Powell

October 25, 2020 by Lorna Peel

**Please note this post contains SPOILERS for books one to three. If you haven’t read them yet, click on the banner below to catch up!**

David Powell was born in Co Kildare, Ireland the only child of the late Cecil Powell, a farmer and his wife. David is gay but keeps his sexuality a secret until he moves to Dublin aged eighteen to study medicine at Trinity College. While in his final year, David meets Alfie Stevens, Isobel Fitzgerald’s brother, and they fall in love. When Will and Isobel accidentally find them together, Alfie makes them promise never to tell anyone.

When Will’s best friend Dr Fred Simpson reveals he has syphilis and has passed it to his wife Margaret and their unborn child, Will insists Fred retires from practising medicine and urgently needs to replace him at the Merrion Street Upper medical practice. Isobel suggests David even though he is less than a year qualified but has been doing locum work to gain experience. Will takes him on and David proves to be an excellent doctor and even assists in the births of Will and Isobel’s twins.

When Alfie and David are attacked outside a club for gay men and Will’s father hears a delirious Alfie calling out for David, John puts two and two together and is furious. Isobel pleads with John to turn a blind eye and he reluctantly agrees. But John Fitzgerald should not have been trusted.

Will and Isobel discover John has persuaded David to enter into a marriage of convenience with Fred Simpson’s childless widow, Margaret. It is little wonder David gave in to greed. In marrying Margaret, David gains a large house with a prestigious address on Ely Place Upper in which he can establish his own medical practice but the marriage need never be consummated.

The fragile marriage has far reaching consequences. John, David and Margaret’s deception devastates Alfie – almost costing him his life – and it enrages Will and Isobel who retaliate by denying John access to his three grandchildren. This angers Will’s mother Sarah who believes the children should not be involved. But can their differences be buried or are some rifts too deep to heal?

Dublin, Ireland, September 1883. The rift between the Fitzgeralds deepens when Will’s father threatens legal action to gain visiting rights to his three grandchildren. But Will, Isobel and John are brought unexpectedly together by Will’s mother when Sarah’s increasingly erratic behaviour spirals beyond their control.

Isobel is reunited with a ghost from her past unearthing memories she would rather have kept buried while the fragile marriage of convenience orchestrated by John becomes more and more brittle before it snaps with horrifying consequences.

Read an excerpt from Chapter Six…

Even during the dark days of Nicholas’ burial and Fred’s death and funeral, he had never seen {Margaret} in such a state. Her brown eyes were wide and staring, her blonde hair was escaping its pins, and her black and white striped gown was splattered with manure from the streets. “Sit on the bed, Margaret,” he instructed and he sat on the edge of the double bed, trying desperately to keep his voice calm. “Sit beside me.” He patted the bedcovers and nodded to the maid and housekeeper who reluctantly let her go.

After a moment or two’s uncertainty, Margaret sat beside him and he heard Bob whisper to the servants to please leave the room with him and they would attend to the maid in the hall.

The door closed after them and Will forced himself to give Margaret a kind smile.

“We’ve known each other for a few years now, haven’t we?” he asked and she nodded.

“Yes. And?”

“And I would like to think you could tell me what has brought you to this. I’m going to be blunt with you, Margaret because it is time for honesty. Even when Nicholas and Fred died and you went through an unimaginably terrible time, you still didn’t attack a caller with a knife. Why now?” he inquired softly.

“It’s David,” she replied with a sniff. “He doesn’t love me.”

“Margaret, you knew David would not love you when you married him.”

“But I hoped,” she added and screwed up her face as she fought to find the correct words. “I hoped he might fall in love with me eventually. He threw Alfie Stevens over for me, after all, but he does not even pretend to love me. In fact, he recently made it plain that I disgust him.”

“Do you love him?” Will asked and was relieved when she shook her head.

“For a while, I managed to convince myself that I did. But I do not. It was nothing more than a futile effort to try and overcome the bitter regret I feel at having agreed to marry him. I had hoped David and I would have grown accustomed to each other over time – become companions and more – but I know now it was a forlorn hope because there is nothing between us except hate and mistrust. David simply wanted this house and social status and I have realised just how much I miss Fred and our baby and how I shall be alone and childless in this marriage for as long as I live. Please, Will. Tell me you miss Fred, too?”

Tears stung his eyes and he nodded. “I miss Fred every day – and I will continue to miss him every day for the rest of my life.”

Margaret gave him a wobbly smile, rested her temple on his shoulder and he put an arm around her, wondering when she had last been afforded some kindness.

“Margaret, please leave this house for your own wellbeing.”

“And go where?” she asked miserably. “Neither Mother nor Elizabeth approved of this marriage and—”

“What on earth are you doing? Get away from my wife.”

Will and Margaret jerked apart and he got off the bed. David, with Will’s father behind him, was standing at the bedroom door.

“We’re-we’re not doing anything,” Margaret stammered before he could speak. “Today, I have been rather… upset and I did something I now very much regret.”

“What was it?” David asked.

“Margaret slapped Dr O’Brien when he called here a short time ago,” Will interjected and, out of the corner of an eye, saw Margaret give him an incredulous glance.

“Why would Dr O’Brien call here?” David added suspiciously.

“I called to number 30 earlier today and matters became rather heated,” Margaret explained. “I behaved atrociously and a short time ago Dr O’Brien called here to inquire after my state of health. It was then that I behaved atrociously to him.”

“In that case, you should go downstairs to the hall where he is waiting with Isobel and apologise to him.”

“I shall,” Margaret replied and scurried from the room.

“Do you often choose to sit on the beds of ladies who are not your wife?” David demanded and Will tensed.

“Only ones who have realised their husband will never even like them and simply married them for material gain.”

“Will,” his father snapped.

“You can’t even pretend to be a husband to her, can you, David?” Will ignored his father. “You can’t even befriend her – take an interest in anything she enjoys – take her out for meals – or to the theatre – because all you wanted from this charade of a marriage was this house, a medical practice and as high a social standing as you could grab with both hands. Soon, society will wonder – if they are not wondering already – why you are never seen socialising with your wife.”

“You don’t socialise either. And I would thank you and your wife not to interfere.”

“That is because my wife and I are not desperate to achieve a higher social status. And we are ‘interfering’ because very soon, your wife’s health will breakdown completely.”

“Just like your mother’s has,” David sneered and Will made a grab for his throat, only for his father to push him away.

“Enough.” His father placed himself between them. “Do not mention my wife in that way ever again,” he ordered David, who flushed.

“I apologise,” he replied quietly.

“I am ashamed to say that Margaret has been neglected lately,” his father continued. “That shall be remedied, Will, I can assure you.”

“Remedied in what way?” Will asked. “Her family need to know she is ill so they can give her the help and support she needs – and if you won’t tell them – I will.”

“Don’t make threats.”

“It’s not a threat, Father, it’s a promise. Mrs Dawson is currently in Wicklow – no doubt you have the address. I shall call here on Friday evening and if I discover that David has not gone there and afforded Mrs Dawson the courtesy of informing her face-to-face that Margaret is ill, I shall travel to Wicklow on Saturday and tell her myself. Now, I think it would be best if Isobel, Bob and I saw ourselves out. Good evening to you both.”

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Meet A Forlorn Hope’s James Ellison

October 18, 2020 by Lorna Peel

**Please note this post contains SPOILERS for The Fitzgeralds of Dublin Series books one to three. If you haven’t read them yet, click/tap on the banner to catch up!**

Fifty-eight year-old James Ellison is Will Fitzgerald‘s solicitor. James was in partnership with Ronald Henderson for thirty years until Ronald’s sudden death in late 1880. Unknown to James, Ronald was gay and died in a brothel in Dublin’s red light district known as Monto. James ensured that a scandal was averted and only scant details of Ronald’s death appeared in the newspapers. James’ eagerness to avert a scandal was not only out of respect for his friend and business partner but also because he was in love with Ronald’s widow, Martha, Isobel Fitzgerald’s mother.

James’ only son died aged fourteen of consumption and when his wife died, James expected to be alone for the rest of his life but when Ronald introduced him to Martha shortly before their marriage, James fell in love with her instantly despite knowing nothing could come of it. When Ronald died and Martha discovered he had married her solely for companionship, James had to put his feelings aside and assist her with the settlement of Ronald’s estate.

But James couldn’t keep away from Martha and Alfie Stevens, Isobel’s brother, noticed how often James was calling to number 55 Fitzwilliam Square. Realising James was courting her mother far too soon after Ronald’s death, Isobel went to James’ offices and asked him what his intentions were towards her mother. James told Isobel that he and her mother were in love, they would be extremely circumspect and when a year had passed since Ronald’s death, they would marry.

James and Martha married in December 1881 at St Peter’s Church and James moved into number 55. He continued to practise law alone from his offices on Westmoreland Street.

When Will and Isobel discovered Will’s father, John, had persuaded Fred Simpson’s childless widow, Margaret to enter into a marriage of convenience with Alfie’s former lover David Powell, it enraged them and they retaliated by denying John access to his three grandchildren.

When A Forlorn Hope begins, over a year has passed since the marriage and when John meets Will and Isobel in St Stephen’s Green, he threatens legal action if they continue to deny him access to young John, Ben and Belle. Will and Isobel ask James for assistance but will they want to hear, agree to and comply with his legal advice?

Dublin, Ireland, September 1883. The rift between the Fitzgeralds deepens when Will’s father threatens legal action to gain visiting rights to his three grandchildren. But Will, Isobel and John are brought unexpectedly together by Will’s mother when Sarah’s increasingly erratic behaviour spirals beyond their control.

Isobel is reunited with a ghost from her past unearthing memories she would rather have kept buried while the fragile marriage of convenience orchestrated by John becomes more and more brittle before it snaps with horrifying consequences.

Read an excerpt from Chapter One…

Will managed to swallow his anger at his father for most of the afternoon as he made house calls. Closing number 30’s front door at just before half past four, it rose again and he shook his head as Isobel came out of the morning room.

“Young John has made a friend and I may have made one, too,” she announced with a smile and kissed his lips.

“Oh?” he replied, hanging his hat on the stand and placing his medical bag on the hall table before following her into the morning room while she told him about the Pearsons. “Her husband lost an arm?”

“Yes. His right arm.”

“Where was he stationed with the army?”

“India, where he and Marianne got married, and then Egypt.”

“And they are moving into number 7. Well, well. I’m glad the house won’t be standing empty for much longer. What is Daniel like?”

“Small and blonde and I don’t think he had ever seen ducks before.”

Will smiled, hearing voices in the hall. “How was Mother?” he asked just as the door opened and Zaineb, one of their house-parlourmaids, showed a worried-looking James Ellison into the room.

“Gorman said you asked that I call and that it was a professional matter.”

“I’m afraid it is,” Will replied, nodding his thanks to Zaineb and the maid left the room. “Please sit down, James, and we’ll explain.”

He and Isobel sat on the huge reddish-brown leather sofa while James sat in one of the armchairs and listened intently while Will recounted the meeting with his father in St Stephen’s Green.

“And he said, ‘If you and Will continue to deny me that right, I shall have no choice but to speak with my solicitor,’” the solicitor clarified.

“Yes.” Will nodded.

“And did you reply?” James added.

“I told him not to dare threaten us. Then a few minutes later, Isobel saw him go into the offices of Hugo Blackwood & Son – Hugo Blackwood is his solicitor. James, does my father have a legal right to visit his grandchildren?”

“Well.” James sighed. “He is the children’s grandfather and you have been denying him access to them for over a year…”

“So what do you propose we do?”

“You and Isobel have two choices. The first is to grant your father visitation rights before he has the opportunity to take the matter any further. The second is to do nothing for now. Wait and see what your father does. His going into the offices of Hugo Blackwood & Son this morning could have been a bluff as he may just have been doing as you are doing now and seeking legal advice. The problem is that the longer he is denied access to the children, the more likely it is that he does instruct Hugo Blackwood to take legal action against you both.”

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Meet A Discarded Son’s Miles Greene

September 8, 2019 by Lorna Peel

Miles Walker Greene was born in 1835, the only son of Lewis Greene and his wife Matilda (Tilda) and is a twin brother to Isobel Fitzgerald’s mother, Martha. Tilda had not known she was carrying twins until she gave birth. Martha was born first but Miles took a long time to be born.

All was well at first, and Lewis and Matilda were delighted to have an heir to the Greene Hall estate. Soon, however, it became evident that Miles was not developing like other children. Miles was examined by the Greene’s doctor and he was deemed to be – in the terminology of the time – a ‘simpleton’ or an ‘idiot’.

Tilda blamed herself and could not bear to even look at her son and when she claimed he was beginning to frighten Martha, Lewis sent Miles away to St Patrick’s Hospital in Dublin – an asylum where he could be cared for properly. Lewis watched his year-old son being driven away in a carriage down the drive then let it be known that Miles had died and a large funeral was held for him.

Miles becomes a chamber boarder at St Patrick’s Hospital with his own apartment and a servant – Peter O’Connor. The annual fee, plus Peter’s wages, as well as an allowance for furniture, clothes, shoes and other sundries is always paid promptly but there is no other contact whatsoever with the Greenes. Miles is a gentle soul who loves reading and amasses a huge collection of books, most of which Peter purchases for him as Miles does not leave the hospital grounds.

When Lewis’ doctor informs him that he has lung disease and it will kill him, he resolves to go to Dublin and see Miles. Tilda does not want to go but Lewis insists and he rents a house on Fitzwilliam Square. Isobel spots her grandfather in the congregation at her mother’s wedding to solicitor James Ellison and that evening Lewis confesses a secret – one which has been kept for over forty years. His son is alive and he wants to see Miles one last time before he dies.

This presents a huge conundrum. What, if anything, has Miles been told about his parents and family? How severe is Miles’ mental illness and how will he react when he is told that his mother does not wish to be reunited with him but that his father, who sent him away, does?

Dublin, Ireland, 1881. Isobel Fitzgerald’s mother, Martha, marries solicitor James Ellison but an unexpected guest overshadows their wedding day. Martha’s father is dying and he is determined to clear his conscience before it is too late. Lewis Greene’s confession ensures the Ellisons’ expectation of a quiet married life is gone and that Isobel’s elder brother, Alfie Stevens, will be the recipient of an unwelcome inheritance.

**When a bewildering engagement notice is published in The Irish Times, the name of one of the persons concerned sends Will and Isobel on a race against time across Dublin and forces them to break a promise and reveal a closely guarded secret.**

Read an Excerpt from Chapter Two…

Will had one urgent house call to make on Wednesday afternoon but met Isobel and his father at number 67 at half past three and they took a cab to St Patrick’s Hospital. Isobel went straight to Miles’ apartment with a copy of Wuthering Heights and a tin of mince pies, while Will and his father went to the medical superintendent’s office.

“Miles Greene has the mental capacity of a fifteen-year-old boy,” Dr Harrison told them. “He is not violent or aggressive – never has been – even when he sometimes struggles to express himself – and if it were not for the fact that his parents did not want a ‘slow’ or ‘simpleton’ child, he could have lived with them perfectly well and not be tucked away here.”

“So, Miles is capable of living in an ordinary home?” Will asked and Dr Harrison nodded.

“Miles likes everything tidy, orderly and just so. I believe he could live a happy life in a quiet home with some supervision. Can you give him a home, Dr Fitzgerald?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” Will replied. “My wife and I have three young children but Miles could be accommodated in my wife’s mother’s home. Except—” He sighed. “My mother-in-law is currently away on honeymoon and she has always believed her brother to have died at a year old. The news will have to be broken to her and to her new husband when they return and the possibility of giving Miles a home discussed.”

“And Miles’ parents?” Dr Harrison added.

“Mr Greene is too ill to visit him and Mrs Greene continues to want nothing to do with her son,” Will explained.

“I see that it is a delicate matter all round.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well, discuss the matter and let me know the outcome. If Miles can be given a home, the hospital shall need written consent from Mr Greene for Miles to be released from our care into the care of his sister and brother-in-law.”

Will and his father left the office and as they approached Miles’ apartment, Will could hear laughing and on opening the door saw Isobel performing an elaborate curtsy to her uncle.

“I have just taught Miles how to waltz,” she said. “Miles, come and meet Will’s father. Miles, this is John Fitzgerald. John, this is Miles Greene.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you, sir.” Miles shook Will’s father’s hand. “Isobel tells me you are a doctor, too.”

**“I am retired from practising medicine,” he clarified. “I now edit the Journal of Irish Medicine.”**

“Dr Harrison reads that periodical, I have seen a copy on his desk.”

“Good. So, you have mastered the waltz?” he asked and Miles smiled.

“I wouldn’t say that, sir, but I now know all the steps. Thank you for visiting me.”

“You are very welcome, Miles.”

“When will you visit me again?” Miles turned back to Isobel.

“In the next few days, I promise,” she said, reaching up and kissing his cheek before leaving the apartment. “Well?” she asked as the porter showed them out of the hospital grounds. “Is Miles capable of living away from here?”

“Yes, he is,” Will replied. “But remember, Isobel, one thing at a time – it needs to be broken gently to your mother how ill her father is and then that Miles is alive – and she will need time in order to digest the news.”

“Yes, and I am dreading telling her – and James.”

“You won’t be alone,” he said, lifting her hand and kissing it. “Alfie and I will be with you. And we must not interfere – the final decision must be hers and James’.”

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A Discarded Son by Lorna Peel Kindle Cover PNG

Author: Lorna Peel

Title: A Discarded Son

Series: The Fitzgeralds of Dublin

Genre: Irish Historical Fiction

Cover Designer: Rebecca K. Sterling, Sterling Design Studio

Ebook and Print Formatting: Polgarus Studio

Cover photo credit: Wilhelm Roentgen (1845-1923), German physicist, received the first Nobel Prize for Physics, in 1901, for his discovery of X-rays in 1895: Everett Historical/Shutterstock.com and Portrait of a man in a top hat and morning suit holding a cane: Everett Historical/Shutterstock.com

Cover photo credit: Florence Court, County Fermanagh, Northern Ireland: phb.cz/Depositphotos.com

Meet A Discarded Son’s Martha Ellison

September 1, 2019 by Lorna Peel

Isobel Fitzgerald’s mother, Martha, was born in 1835 and is the only daughter of Lewis and Matilda (Tilda) Greene of Greene Hall, near Westport in Co Mayo, Ireland. She grew up an only child, believing her twin brother, Miles, died of whooping cough at a year old. She had a typical landed gentry upbringing, living in the nursery on the third floor of Greene Hall with a nursery maid and nanny until the age of twelve. The nursery then became the schoolroom and Martha had her own governess.

Martha was ten years old when the Great Famine began and she admits to Isobel that she was wholly oblivious to the tenants on the Greene Hall estate dying of starvation, being evicted from their homes and land and leaving the estate forever. Little wonder, with her secluded upbringing, Martha defied her parents and ran away from home to marry the first man to turn her head.

That man was the Reverend Edmund Stevens who was curate in the local Church of Ireland (Anglican) parish of Ballyglas. Upon his marriage, Edmund is given his own parish – Ballybeg in Co Galway – and a son, Alfie, is born ten months after his parents’ marriage and Isobel is born in 1857. Edmund ruled his wife – and later his son and daughter – with an iron fist, but while he controls his wife, he cannot completely control his children. Alfie has always wanted to become a doctor and refuses time and again to follow his father into the church and is beaten time and again. Isobel falls pregnant following a seduction, ruining all of Edmund’s plans for her to marry well, and she is whipped, disowned and thrown out of the Glebe House.

Edmund dies suddenly of a heart attack in January 1880 and Martha and Alfie leave Ballybeg and move to Dublin. Martha believes Isobel has gone to Dublin and Alfie seizes the opportunity to study medicine at Trinity College. Martha now needs her own solicitor to administer Edmund’s estate and she is introduced to Ronald Henderson. Within a few months, they are married and Martha is mistress of a grand home at 55 Fitzwilliam Square.

Martha is reunited with Isobel in November 1880 but her joy is short-lived. Ronald dies of a heart attack in a brothel in Monto, Dublin’s red-light district. She then discovers that not only did he own the brothel, but he had been there with a man. Poor Martha doesn’t think she will ever recover from the betrayal. She had believed herself to be in love with Ronald but Ronald had married her solely for companionship.

Solicitor, James Ellison, is a widower in his fifties and was Ronald’s business partner for thirty years. He settles Ronald’s estate but continues to call to number 55 on one flimsy pretext or another and appears to be courting Martha. Isobel confronts James as it is only a couple of months since Ronald’s death. James admits he and Martha are deeply in love, he knows they must be circumspect, and that when a year has passed since Ronald’s death, he will marry Martha.

A Discarded Son begins on Martha’s wedding day. Can Martha’s marriage to James Ellison be third time lucky for her?

Dublin, Ireland, 1881. Isobel Fitzgerald’s mother, Martha, marries solicitor James Ellison but an unexpected guest overshadows their wedding day. Martha’s father is dying and he is determined to clear his conscience before it is too late. Lewis Greene’s confession ensures the Ellisons’ expectation of a quiet married life is gone and that Isobel’s elder brother, Alfie Stevens, will be the recipient of an unwelcome inheritance.

**When a bewildering engagement notice is published in The Irish Times, the name of one of the persons concerned sends Will and Isobel on a race against time across Dublin and forces them to break a promise and reveal a closely guarded secret.**

Read an Excerpt from Chapter One…

As soon as they returned to number 55, Mrs Ellison insisted on speaking to her in private and, reluctantly, Isobel followed her mother into the morning room. Closing the door, she looked at the hearth. A fire had been set that morning but not lit and the room felt unusually cool.

“You may now tell me the truth,” Mrs Ellison began. “Where are my father and mother living?”

Isobel grimaced. Was she so bad a liar these days? “I don’t—”

“The truth, Isobel,” her mother interrupted crisply.

“They have rented a house here on the square – number 7,” she said and Mrs Ellison went straight to the window and looked out at the street. “And you will call on them when you return from London.”

“No. I want them both here – now.”

“Mother, no,” she begged. “You have been looking forward to this day for such a long time don’t allow them to ruin it.”

“They are my parents,” Mrs Ellison replied, her voice rising.

“The same parents who cut you off when you married Father and who are now suddenly here in Dublin for your marriage to a gentleman they approve of.”

That made her mother flinch and Isobel hoped she hadn’t gone too far.

“I want them both here – now,” Mrs Ellison repeated quietly, walking to the rope and ringing for a servant.

“Very well.” Isobel reached for the doorknob.

“And I want you, Alfie, James and Will here when they arrive.”

Letting her hand drop to her side, Isobel walked to the window turning momentarily to the door as the butler came in then watched a ginger cat squeeze between the railings surrounding the Fitzwilliam Square gardens before disappearing from view.

“You rang, Mrs Ellison.”

“Gorman, please, send someone to number 7 and ask that Mr and Mrs Greene join Mr and Mrs Ellison for luncheon and to meet their families. Oh, and this means there will be two extra for luncheon.”

“Yes, Mrs Ellison.”

“And ask my husband, son and son-in-law to join myself and my daughter here.”

“Yes, Mrs Ellison.”

The butler left the room and Isobel pulled a face, only turning around again when the door opened and James, Alfie and Will came in.

“I have sent for my parents,” Mrs Ellison announced and Isobel met Will’s brown eyes for a moment. “And, no, Isobel does not approve of my decision but I want them both here on my wedding day.”

There was no response, Mrs Ellison gave a little shrug and the five of them waited in a tense silence until voices were heard in the hall and the butler came into the room.

“Mr Greene,” Gorman announced, the elderly gentleman walked in and Isobel peered behind him. Where was his wife? Why wasn’t she here? And why hadn’t she accompanied her husband to St Peter’s Church?

“Martha.” Mr Greene went to his daughter reaching out his hands. “Oh, let me look at you.” Clasping her hands, he stood back with a smile. “Oh, how I have missed you.”

Isobel clenched her fists and banged them against her thighs in frustration as her mother burst into tears. How could she be so forgiving?

“And I have missed you.” Her mother smiled through her tears. “Oh, Father…” Holding him to her, the two cried unashamedly.

Isobel glanced at Will who returned a helpless expression while Alfie began to shuffle uncomfortably and James examined his hands.

When the two finally stopped sobbing, Mrs Ellison wiped her tears away with her fingers and looked over her father’s shoulder.

“I must introduce you to my family, Father. This is James Ellison – my husband.”

James joined them and greeted his new and unexpected father-in-law with admirable calm politeness.

“Alfie?” his mother called and he shuffled forward. “My son, Alfie, is a medical student at Trinity College.”

“A budding doctor, eh?” his grandfather commented.

“I have wanted to be nothing else,” he replied.

“And this is my daughter, Isobel, and her husband, Will,” her mother continued and she braced herself as Will took her hand, led her to them and her grandfather inclined his head politely.

“Your concern for your mother is commendable, Isobel.”

“I do not wish to see my mother upset – especially on today of all days.”

“But I am not upset,” her mother protested with an almost hysterical laugh which made her cringe. “I am absolutely delighted to have my father here today.”

“Where is Grandmother?” she asked on behalf of them all and he gave her a little smile, no doubt having expected her question.

“Resting,” he answered simply and she didn’t believe him for a second.

Quickly realising she wasn’t going to reply, her mother gestured to Will.

“This is my son-in-law, Dr Will Fitzgerald.”

“Are you a Dublin man?” Mr Greene inquired.

“Yes, I am,” Will replied. “I was born and brought up on Merrion Square.”

“Isobel and Will have twins – a boy and a girl – Ben and Belle – who are five months old,” Mrs Ellison went on. “And they are raising Will’s nephew, John, who is almost four.”

“I am a great-grandfather.” Mr Greene smiled and shook his head. “Good gracious me. I may be as old as the century, but this news makes me feel utterly antiquated.”

“I think we should go upstairs and introduce Mr Greene to our guests,” James suggested and his wife nodded.

“And luncheon will be served soon.”

They went up the stairs to the pleasantly warm drawing room where Mrs Ellison introduced her father – wheezing after the climb – to the guests. Will’s mother, in particular, was astonished, Sarah having assumed her friend’s parents were both long dead.

“You don’t seem at all happy to finally meet your grandfather, Isobel,” Will’s father commented and she sighed, taking his arm and leading him to a relatively quiet corner.

“My grandparents cut Mother off when she ran away from home to marry my father just days after her twenty-first birthday and yet here they both are in Dublin – twenty-five years later.”

“Your grandfather has the pallor and laboured breathing of a very ill man,” he said as they observed Mr Greene now leaning heavily on her mother’s arm and she nodded.

“Grandfather is dying and my mother does not know – and will not know – until she and James return from London.”

“Of course. They live in Co Mayo, don’t they?”

“They did, but not anymore, apparently. They are renting number 7.”

“Here on Fitzwilliam Square?” John Fitzgerald’s eyebrows shot up.

“Yes. I think their move to Dublin and my grandfather’s ‘sudden’ appearance at the church were very carefully planned, despite his words to the contrary,” she said as Will came to them.

“James seems rather stunned, what do you think of all this?” his father asked.

“Poor James is walking on eggshells,” Will replied. “He did not expect to acquire parents-in-law. I agree with Isobel that Mr Greene’s ‘sudden’ appearance has taken careful planning, so I am rather… wary.”

“Well, do not agree to be your grandfather-in-law’s doctor whatever you do.”

Will shot his father a sharp look. “I’m sure Mr Greene already has a doctor.”

“My namesake didn’t look too happy to be wearing a skirt.” John swiftly changed the subject.

“He wasn’t happy,” Will confirmed. “He hated his ‘dress’. But when I left him at number 30 with Zaineb, he went running up the stairs ahead of her for his short trousers immediately.”

A quarter of an hour later, they all sat down to the wedding luncheon – a place setting for Mrs Greene having been added and then quickly taken away. Isobel glanced at Will’s estranged parents, placed opposite each other at the huge dining table. Living separately – although under the same roof at number 67 Merrion Square – John and Sarah had behaved impeccably at Ben, Belle and young John’s joint christenings and could put on a show of togetherness when required.

Isobel was seated between John and one of James’ brothers and, although she spoke politely with both men, she couldn’t rid herself of the shock and anger of her grandfather’s unexpected arrival. She had rarely thought of either her paternal or maternal grandparents over the years. Her father’s parents had both died long before Alfie and she were born and she had never expected to meet her mother’s father and mother.

Mr and Mrs Ellison were to leave by cab at five o’clock. It would take them to the North Wall Quay passenger terminus and the boat to Holyhead in Wales. From there, they would travel to London by train. Isobel went upstairs with her mother and helped her to put on an exquisite three-quarter length ‘going away’ coat and hat made from the same gold and emerald green satin as the wedding dress.

“Promise me one thing,” Mrs Ellison said as Isobel opened the bedroom door. “Promise me you won’t row with your grandfather while James and I are in London. I know you are not at all happy at his rather sudden appearance.”

“I cannot promise you that, Mother,” she replied truthfully.

“In that case, I would like you to keep away from him – and your grandmother.”

Isobel’s jaw dropped. “Keep away?”

“Yes, Isobel, keep away. Yes, they hurt me deeply – cutting me off when I married your father – and I appreciate your wish to protect me from any further distress. But until I have the opportunity to sit down with them and determine whether their move to Dublin is temporary or permanent and what either could mean for us all, I would like you to keep away from them – please?”

Isobel gave a little shrug. “I can only promise you that I shall not call on them. But if they call on me…” She tailed off intentionally and her mother sighed but nodded.

“Yes, it is natural that they would wish to see their great-grandchildren.”

Is it, Isobel wondered. Today was the first occasion Mr Greene had set eyes on his grandchildren, never mind his great-grandchildren, even though he has no doubt known of us all and where we live for quite some time.

“And now it is time for you to go,” she said, hugging and kissing her mother. “Have a lovely time in London.”

“I’ll try.”

They went downstairs and she kissed James goodbye. He smiled before giving her a firm nod, silently telling her he would ensure his new wife enjoyed her honeymoon.

Explore my blog for more excerpts, character profiles and historical background information

Buy A Discarded Son: The Fitzgeralds of Dublin Book Three for

**Or read A Discarded Son: The Fitzgeralds of Dublin Book Three FREE with**

**Buy A Discarded Son in paperback at**

Amazon ASIN: B07FDB3B3W

Paperback ISBN: 9781723286810

Fitzgeralds Series ASIN: B07W4WRWGM

Author: Lorna Peel

Title: A Discarded Son

Series: The Fitzgeralds of Dublin

Genre: Irish Historical Fiction

Cover Designer: Rebecca K. Sterling, Sterling Design Studio

Ebook and Print Formatting: Polgarus Studio

Cover photo credit: Wilhelm Roentgen (1845-1923), German physicist, received the first Nobel Prize for Physics, in 1901, for his discovery of X-rays in 1895: Everett Historical/Shutterstock.com and Portrait of a man in a top hat and morning suit holding a cane: Everett Historical/Shutterstock.com

Cover photo credit: Florence Court, County Fermanagh, Northern Ireland: phb.cz/Depositphotos.com

Photo credit: John Singer Sargent – Mrs Henry White – Irina via Flickr.com / CC BY 4.0

Meet A Discarded Son’s Alfie Stevens

August 25, 2019 by Lorna Peel

Alfred (Alfie) Stevens was born in 1856 at Ballybeg Glebe House, Co Galway, Ireland son of the Reverend Edmund Stevens and his wife Martha. His sister, Isobel, was born the following year. Theirs was not a happy household. Edmund Stevens ruled his wife and children with an iron fist. Alfie has always wanted to be a doctor but his father wanted Alfie to follow him into the church. When Alfie refused time and again, he was beaten time and again. Alfie also bravely stood between his father and his mother and sister on many occasions and took the beatings so they wouldn’t have to.

Alfie is gay but kept his sexuality a secret from everyone but Peter Shawcross, the son of a neighbour, who is also gay. When Alfie and Peter were caught together by Peter’s brother, James, he blackmailed Alfie into making sure Isobel is left alone with him. James seduced Isobel and when she told him she was pregnant, he left Ireland for America. Isobel was forced to tell her father who whipped her, disowned her and threw her out of the Glebe House.

Naturally, Alfie blamed himself but when his father dies suddenly of a heart attack in January 1880, he and his mother seize the opportunity to move to Dublin in the hope of finding Isobel and so he can study medicine at Trinity College. His mother marries solicitor Ronald Henderson and they move into number 55 Fitzwilliam Square but Ronald dies a few months later. His mother’s hysterical reaction to discovering her husband died in a brothel he owned and that he had been there with another man, makes Alfie swear to himself never to tell her he is gay, too.

Alfie and his mother are reunited with Isobel and, shortly afterwards, Isobel marries Dr Will Fitzgerald and they move into number 30 Fitzwilliam Square. At Trinity College, Alfie meets David Powell, who is also a medical student but in his final year, and they fall in love. When Will and Isobel accidentally find them together, Alfie makes them promise never to tell anyone.

When Will needs to employ another doctor at the Merrion Street Upper medical practice, Isobel suggests David even though he is less than a year qualified. Will takes him on and David proves to be an excellent doctor and even assists in the births of Will and Isobel’s children.

When Alfie and David are attacked outside a club for gay men and Will’s father hears a delirious Alfie calling out for David, he puts two and two together and is furious. Isobel persuades John to turn a blind eye and he reluctantly agrees. But can John Fitzgerald be trusted to keep Alfie and David’s relationship a secret?

Dublin, Ireland, 1881. Isobel Fitzgerald’s mother, Martha, marries solicitor James Ellison but an unexpected guest overshadows their wedding day. Martha’s father is dying and he is determined to clear his conscience before it is too late. Lewis Greene’s confession ensures the Ellisons’ expectation of a quiet married life is gone and that Isobel’s elder brother, Alfie Stevens, will be the recipient of an unwelcome inheritance.

**When a bewildering engagement notice is published in The Irish Times, the name of one of the persons concerned sends Will and Isobel on a race against time across Dublin and forces them to break a promise and reveal a closely guarded secret.**

Read an Excerpt from Chapter Two…

Isobel was shown into number 55’s morning room at just after three o’clock the following afternoon. The room was empty and she turned to the butler with a frown.

“Is my mother not at home?”

“Mrs Ellison – and then Mr Ellison – have gone to call upon Mr Greene,” Gorman told her. “Mr Stevens is upstairs in the library.”

“Oh, I see. Thank you.”

The butler closed the door after him and Isobel grimaced as she went to the window, wishing her mother had not called to number 7 so soon. Hearing voices in the hall, she glanced at the door as it opened and Alfie came in.

“Why didn’t you go with Mother and then James to number 7?” she asked.

“Because until James asked me – and then we asked Gorman – where Mother was, we didn’t realise she had gone out,” he replied. “I thought it best that James go after her to number 7. We had been discussing Miles. James has asked me to become Miles’ legal guardian. I had expected for it to be James but he explained why he should not. And why it should be me.”

“You sound as if you don’t want to do it.”

“I will do it—” Alfie stopped abruptly and spread his hands helplessly. “But James has told me he wants the Greene Hall estate to pass to me and not Miles when the time comes. Yes, it would be better not to have Miles be made a ward of court but, even so, I can’t help but think the Greene Hall estate should be his – not mine.”

“Alfie, we shall all be on hand to help and advise you.”

“Isobel, I will never be married – I will never have a son…”

“And neither will Miles.”

“But, unlike Miles, I shall be expected to marry and – when I don’t – my bachelor status will be commented on.”

“You will be a doctor with a busy Dublin practice with no time for marriage. There are plenty of bachelor doctors—”

“Who probably all have a ‘secret friend’ as I do.”

Two cabs stopped outside and Will got out of the first. Seeing her at the window, he smiled and she waited for him to be shown into the room.

“Mother and James are at number 7,” she told him before he could ask where they were and he rolled his eyes before peering past both her and Alfie at the street. “Have you asked the cabmen to wait?”

“Yes, and I hope your mother won’t stay too long – not because of the cabs – but because seeing your mother again will be upsetting for your grandfather. I wish she hadn’t called on him without my being present and I wish she hadn’t called on him until after visiting Miles.”

“Mother went first without telling James and I and James had to follow her,” Alfie explained and Will swore under his breath. “Is Mother going be too emotional for Miles?” Alfie added. “Especially as Miles needs a quiet home?”

“I need to speak to James and – oh – there they are now.”

Her mother and James were crossing the street, her mother waving her hands in the air in an agitated manner as she spoke to him while James simply shook his head before stopping and holding his arms out from his sides then letting them drop.

“Let’s go outside.” Will opened the door and then the front door for her. “James?” he called as the three of them left the house and James held up a hand to acknowledge him.

“I’m sorry, Will, but Martha took it upon herself to call to number 7, despite my having told her to wait until this evening.”

“Do I need to call on Mr Greene?” Will asked.

“No, he is as well as can be expected. Despite having to deal with the unexpected caller.”

“My father was delighted to see me,” Mrs Ellison announced proudly.

“Did you or he mention Miles?” Isobel inquired.

“I had to,” her mother replied and Isobel’s heart sank. “James told me the hospital requires written consent from my father for Miles to come and live here – which I now have,” she continued triumphantly, holding up an envelope.

“Did you see Grandmother?” Isobel added as Will opened the door of the first cab and James helped his wife inside and she sat down.

“Mother was ‘resting’. Whether she does or does not wish to see me is entirely up to her but Father – oh, Will – that contraption – the face mask – the oxygen cylinder…”

“Your father needs it,” Will replied. “To be blunt, Martha, your father cannot now live without inhaling oxygen and he must not be upset or agitated unnecessarily and I would have preferred that you had not called on him this first time without my being present.”

Mrs Ellison flushed at Will’s stern tone but raised her chin defensively. “So James told me – but he is my father – I had to visit him.”

“And he is my patient – and I am trying to ensure he receives the best of care – please consider his needs in future and not your own.”

Explore my blog for more excerpts, character profiles and historical background information

Buy A Discarded Son: The Fitzgeralds of Dublin Book Three for

**Or read A Discarded Son: The Fitzgeralds of Dublin Book Three FREE with**

**Buy A Discarded Son in paperback at**

Amazon ASIN: B07FDB3B3W

Paperback ISBN: 9781723286810

Fitzgeralds Series ASIN: B07W4WRWGM

Author: Lorna Peel

Title: A Discarded Son

Series: The Fitzgeralds of Dublin

Genre: Irish Historical Fiction

Cover Designer: Rebecca K. Sterling, Sterling Design Studio

Ebook and Print Formatting: Polgarus Studio

Cover photo credit: Wilhelm Roentgen (1845-1923), German physicist, received the first Nobel Prize for Physics, in 1901, for his discovery of X-rays in 1895: Everett Historical/Shutterstock.com and Portrait of a man in a top hat and morning suit holding a cane: Everett Historical/Shutterstock.com

Cover photo credit: Florence Court, County Fermanagh, Northern Ireland: phb.cz/Depositphotos.com

Photo credit: Cabinet card young man – Photographer: Wilber, Chardon Ohio – Property of LOST GALLERY and website owner. Used under CC BY-SA 4.0

Photo credit: The Long Room of the Old Library at Trinity College, Dublin by Diliff – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0

The Fitzgeralds of Dublin Series

Featured by Lorna Peel

The Fitzgeralds of Dublin Series is a gritty family saga set in Victorian Ireland. The series brings to life the dark underbelly of Victorian Dublin society and gets to the heart of the social issues of the day. As I publish each book in the series I’ll be adding blog posts with character profiles, location histories and general background information. Below, I’ve listed all the posts so far and categorised them so they are easier to locate. All the posts contain an excerpt from the books. You can subscribe to my blog by clicking the Follow button or the RSS Blog Feed Reader link in the sidebar on the right so you won’t miss a post.

The Books

Book One: A Scarlet Woman

Can an idealistic young doctor and a fallen woman find love when Victorian society believes they should not?

Book Two: A Suitable Wife

Can Will and Isobel hold the Fitzgeralds together when tragedy and betrayal threaten to tear the family apart?

Book Three: A Discarded Son

Can Will and Isobel right the wrongs of the past without hurting those closest to them?

Book Four: A Forlorn Hope

Can Will and Isobel bury their differences with those estranged from them and unite in a time of crisis or are some rifts too deep to heal?

Books One to Three: Box Set

Out Now on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited

Character Profiles

Meet Isobel Stevens

Meet Dr Will Fitzgerald

Meet Will’s mother – Sarah Fitzgerald

Meet Will’s father – Dr John Fitzgerald

Meet Will’s best friend – Dr Fred Simpson

Meet Fred’s wife – Margaret Simpson

Meet Isobel’s grandparents – Lewis and Tilda Greene

Meet Isobel’s brother – Alfie Stevens

Meet Isobel and Alfie’s mother – Martha Ellison

Meet Solicitor James Ellison

Meet Martha’s twin brother – Miles Greene

Meet Dr David Powell

Location Histories

A map of Dublin, Ireland – click/tap to open in a new tab

Merrion Square, Dublin, Ireland

The Liberties of Dublin, Ireland

Monto: Dublin’s Red Light District

Fitzwilliam Square, Dublin, Ireland

St Patrick’s Hospital, Dublin, Ireland

The Westmoreland Lock Hospital, Dublin, Ireland

History

The Great Snow of January 1881

Dublin’s Coal Holes and Coal Cellars

Laudanum: The Aspirin of the Nineteenth Century

Irish History YouTube Videos

Wrong date – should be 6 May 1882

The Fitzgeralds of Dublin Series is

Meet A Suitable Wife’s Sarah Fitzgerald

October 14, 2018 by Lorna Peel

Sarah Fitzgerald, née Crawford, was born in 1824 in York Street, Dublin, Ireland the second of three daughters. Sarah’s father, William, was the son of a draper from Parliament Street and became a surgeon at Mercer’s Hospital through hard work and stubborn determination on both his part and his father’s. Draper Crawford had to ensure he earned enough to keep his family fed and clothed and ensure William had the means to be bound as an apprentice to a prominent surgeon.

Continually reminded that he has ‘come from trade’ by certain sections of Dublin society, Surgeon Crawford wanted Sarah to marry well. His former apprentice, Duncan Simpson, had married Maria Wingfield of Rutland Square (now Parnell Square), but Duncan introduced Sarah and her father to his best friend, John Fitzgerald. A doctor with a home on Merrion Square and heir to a prosperous medical practice on Merrion Street Upper, John is the ideal husband.

Sarah and John married at St Peter’s Church, Aungier Street in 1845. Their son, Edward, was born in 1846 and joined the army while Will was born in 1849 and became a doctor.

At the start of A Suitable Wife, Sarah has been married for almost thirty-six years and believes herself to be still in love with John. But did Sarah marry John, a stern and rather secretive man ten years her senior, simply to please her father?

Dublin, Ireland, 1881. Will and Isobel Fitzgerald settle into number 30 Fitzwilliam Square, a home they could once only have dreamed of. A baby is on the way, Will takes over the Merrion Street Upper medical practice from his father and they are financially secure. But when Will is handed a letter from his elder brother, Edward, stationed with the army in India, the revelations it contains only serves to further alienate Will from his father.

Isobel is eager to adapt to married life on Fitzwilliam Square but soon realises her past can never be laid to rest. The night she met Will in a brothel on the eve of his best friend’s wedding has devastating and far-reaching consequences which will change the lives of the Fitzgerald family forever.

Read an excerpt from Chapter Seven…

Will was quiet as they strolled home arm-in-arm, his mind clearly on his father. As they approached number 30, she could hear raised voices and they stopped. Tess, Will’s parents’ house-parlourmaid who doubled as his mother’s lady’s maid, was hurrying down the steps to a waiting cab while Mrs Dillon pleaded with someone from the front door.

“Doctor and Mrs Fitzgerald will be home soon. Please come inside and calm yourself.”

“But I have no money to pay the cabman.” Will’s mother emerged from behind the cab smoothing down the skirt of her black dress and, to Isobel’s horror, sank down onto the kerb bursting into tears.

“Christ,” Will whispered and they ran to her. “Mother?”

“Oh, Will…”

“I’ll pay the cabman, Mother. Isobel will escort you inside.”

“Sarah.” Clasping her mother-in-law’s cold hands, Isobel raised her to her feet. “Come into the house, you’re freezing.”

“Tess, too?” Sarah asked and Isobel glanced at the girl. Usually, a capable maid, Tess’ face was ashen. What on earth had she heard or witnessed?

“Yes, Tess, too. Come inside.” Slowly they climbed the steps and went into the hall. “Mrs Dillon, this is Tess. Tess, this is Mrs Dillon. I think we could do with some tea – all of us,” she added with a nod towards the maid, and the housekeeper took Tess’ arm.

“Yes, Mrs Fitzgerald.”

“Come into the morning room, Sarah.” Isobel led her inside and sat her down on the sofa, hearing the front door close then silence as Will most likely hung up his hat and overcoat before his footsteps could be heard approaching the door.

“What’s happened, Mother?” he asked, coming in and closing the door behind him.

“Oh, Will,” she said in a shaky voice. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“Take your time.”

“I have separated from your father.”

Buy A Suitable Wife: The Fitzgeralds of Dublin Book Two the sequel to A Scarlet Woman for

**Or read A Suitable Wife FREE with**

**Buy the A Suitable Wife paperback at**

Amazon ASIN: B07FDB3B3W

Paperback ISBN: 9781723286810

Author: Lorna Peel

Title: A Suitable Wife

Series: The Fitzgeralds of Dublin Book Two

Genre: Irish Historical Fiction

Cover Designer: Rebecca K. Sterling, Sterling Design Studio

Ebook and Print Formatting: Polgarus Studio

Photo credit: Hubert von Herkomer – Emilia Francis (née Strong), Lady Dilke, is a derivative of irinaraquel, used under CC BY 4.0

Meet A Suitable Wife’s John Fitzgerald

October 7, 2018 by Lorna Peel

Will Fitzgerald’s father, John, was born at number 67 Merrion Square, Dublin, Ireland in 1814, the eldest son of Dr Edward Fitzgerald and his wife Mary Jane neé Maquay. John’s younger brother Thomas died at a year old.

John met Duncan Simpson at the ‘Seminary for General Education’, a school run by the Reverend R.H. Wall at number 6 Hume Street. They became best friends but John followed Fitzgerald family tradition that the eldest son study medicine at Trinity College. Duncan was bound as an apprentice to William Crawford, a surgeon at Mercer’s Hospital while also studying at the private school of anatomy, medicine, and surgery in Park Street (now Lincoln Place) before receiving his letters testimonial from the Royal College of Surgeons in Ireland. On graduating with an M.D. from Trinity College, John joined his father’s medical practice on Merrion Street Upper. Duncan became a renowned surgeon at Mercer’s Hospital and married Maria Wingfield of Rutland Square (now Parnell Square) in 1844.

In 1845, John married Sarah Crawford of York Street, William Crawford’s middle daughter. Their son, Edward, was born in 1846 and Will was born in 1849. In 1851, following the death of his father, John took over the Merrion Street Upper medical practice and entered into partnership with Dr Kenneth Wilson, father of Cecilia, Will’s former fiancée.

John is immensely proud of his sons but discovers they are just as stubborn as he is. Edward breaks with family tradition and insists on joining the army. Currently serving in India, Edward has been promoted to the rank of major and is married to Ruth with a son named after his grandfather but despite all this, John still wishes Edward had gone into medicine.

It is Will who was intent on becoming a doctor but John is appalled when, on graduating from Trinity College, Will joins the Merrion Street Upper practice only to leave after a few months to live and set up his own medical practice in the Liberties, a poorer area of Dublin. Nor does John approve of Will’s choice of wife. Isobel Stevens may be a well-educated clergyman’s daughter but she is a fallen woman and simply not good enough for his son.

When Duncan dies suddenly in November 1880, John retires from practising medicine and offers the Merrion Street Upper practice to Will. When Will agrees to take over the practice, a relieved John takes up the position of editor at the Journal of Irish Medicine. It is a well paid position so John won’t be left out of pocket by no longer practising medicine.

Never one to display his feelings publically or otherwise, at the start of A Suitable Wife, John has become even more distant. At first, Sarah, Will and Isobel put John’s behaviour down to him coming to terms with losing his best friend, retiring from medicine and adjusting to an office job in a short period of time.

But when Isobel and Will each see John getting into a cab on St Stephen’s Green and then see him leaving a cab in the middle of Merrion Row whilest holding up all the traffic, they can’t help but be puzzled and concerned. Is John hiding something from his wife and family?

Dublin, Ireland, 1881. Will and Isobel Fitzgerald settle into number 30 Fitzwilliam Square, a home they could once only have dreamed of. A baby is on the way, Will takes over the Merrion Street Upper medical practice from his father and they are financially secure. But when Will is handed a letter from his elder brother, Edward, stationed with the army in India, the revelations it contains only serves to further alienate Will from his father.

Isobel is eager to adapt to married life on Fitzwilliam Square but soon realises her past can never be laid to rest. The night she met Will in a brothel on the eve of his best friend’s wedding has devastating and far-reaching consequences which will change the lives of the Fitzgerald family forever.

Read an excerpt from Chapter Two…

A copy of The Irish Times was lying on the desk as Will went into his surgery the next morning. He put his medical bag down on the floor and glanced at the advertisements on the front page. What was he supposed to be looking at?

“Page four,” Fred informed him from the doorway.

Will went to the page and his heart sank. Doctor Saves Infant’s Life Through New ‘Piglet Procedure’. The article described how he had saved the life of the premature newborn son of the late Clive Ashlinn Q.C. Will was named but Fred, and how he had saved Cecilia’s life, was not.

“This is nothing to do with me, Fred.”

“No?”

“No,” he replied firmly. “The detail in this article could only have come from a doctor and I haven’t spoken to Cecilia’s father since that night.”

“Well, Dr Wilson certainly told someone after I’d spoken to him.”

“I’m sorry, Fred. This article should be about you. You saved Cecilia’s life.”

“Yes, but not with the ‘Piglet Procedure’,” Fred muttered. “I’ll see you this evening.”

Will sighed and closed the newspaper.

**“Will?” About to run up the steps to number 30 and escape the cold just before one o’clock, Will turned hearing his father’s voice. “Have you seen The Irish Times?”**

“I have,” he replied shortly as his father stopped beside him. “Come inside, it’s freezing.” Will hurried up the steps, opened the front door and they went into the hall. “Who was responsible for that sensationalist article?” he demanded, quickly closing the door and putting his medical bag on the hall table.

“I met Ken Wilson and he told me—”

“He clearly didn’t tell you the baby was full term,” Will interrupted and his father’s jaw dropped.

“Full term?”

“Yes,” he replied, taking off his hat and hanging it on the stand. “And, thanks to you, all those who can count and know Cecilia was the one who ended our engagement and married Clive Ashlinn with undue haste, now know why – she was pregnant with his child after having sexual relations with him behind my back. For God’s sake, Father, did you not stop for a moment to think – to count back the months? If the baby had been conceived after Cecilia married Clive, it wouldn’t have survived five minutes – if even that – no matter what was done to try and revive it. Fred saved Cecilia’s life. He performed a difficult caesarean – that old fool Smythe should have done it hours beforehand – and I get all the credit for clearing the baby’s airway. It’s completely ridiculous. Please don’t do it again.”

His father’s eyebrows rose in clear offence. “The practice needs more patients and it was an ideal opportunity to obtain some publicity for you. As well as that, I was going to ask you to submit a paper to the Journal of Irish Medicine.”

“On how to swing a baby by its ankles? Thank you, Father but, no. Ask Fred for one on the caesarean.”

“We receive papers on caesareans all the time.”

“Well write an editorial on elderly doctors and how they put their patients’ lives at risk.”

His father nodded. “I have heard complaints about Smythe before but he cannot be compelled to retire until…”

“He does actually kill someone.” Will rolled his eyes. “While you’re here, could you come into the breakfast room, I need to speak to you about Fred.”

They went inside and Will closed the door to the hall. The table was laid for luncheon and his stomach began to rumble.

“Is Fred in trouble, Will?” his father asked.

“Yesterday morning, I caught him in his surgery with a young woman.”

“A young woman? You mean a whore?”

Will winced. He hated the term. “I mean a prostitute. And it doesn’t seem to be the first time he’s brought one to the practice house.”

“I caught him twice with one.” His father sighed. “I thought that now he is going to be a father…”

“It would seem that has only made matters worse. Needless to say, we had ‘words’ about it. I told him if I caught him with a prostitute there again, he’d be out and—”

“You can’t dissolve the partnership so soon, Will,” his father interjected firmly. “How would it look?”

“Father, Fred’s sexual excursions are none of my business, but he will not indulge his urges at the practice house. He and Margaret are coming here to dinner this evening and I want to try and build bridges with him but I also think he misses his father greatly.”

“We all miss his father greatly.”

“Could you speak with him, please?” Will asked. “Perhaps bring him to your club for a drink occasionally?”

“Be a father figure to him, you mean?”

“Yes. I’m finding it very difficult to be a friend to him at the moment and the newspaper article certainly hasn’t helped matters.”

His father nodded. “It was well intended.”

“I know it was,” Will conceded. “But don’t expect Cecilia or her parents to be too pleased about it either.”

“No,” his father replied quietly. “How is Isobel?”

“A little nervous about the dinner as it’s our first but other than that she is very well.”

“Good. Well, I’ll let you begin luncheon.”

“Please don’t tell Fred I’ve spoken to you about him?” Will asked.

“I won’t.”

“Thank you for calling, Father, and my love to Mother.” He saw his father out and turned as he shrugged off his overcoat, hearing the morning room door open. “My father,” he told Isobel, hanging the overcoat on the stand.

**“Yes, I heard his voice,” she said and closed the door. “Will, have you seen today’s Irish Times?”**

“Fred showed the article to me.” Taking her hand, they went into the breakfast room. “He isn’t happy about it. My father has just told me he is responsible.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve asked him not to do it again.”

“You didn’t row, did you?” she asked.

“No. I didn’t row with Fred either.”

“Good.” She gave him a little smile. “For a moment, I thought you were going to tell me Fred has refused to come this evening.”

“Fred and Margaret are definitely coming to dinner this evening,” he assured her. “I have some house calls to make this afternoon, but I should be home before six o’clock.”

Buy A Suitable Wife: The Fitzgeralds of Dublin Book Two the sequel to A Scarlet Woman for

**Or read A Suitable Wife FREE with**

**Buy the A Suitable Wife paperback at**

Amazon ASIN: B07FDB3B3W

Paperback ISBN: 9781723286810

Author: Lorna Peel

Title: A Suitable Wife

Series: The Fitzgeralds of Dublin Book Two

Genre: Irish Historical Fiction

Cover Designer: Rebecca K. Sterling, Sterling Design Studio

Ebook and Print Formatting: Polgarus Studio

Photo credit: George Bernard Shaw 1925 – by Nobel Foundation – Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons

Meet A Suitable Wife’s Fred Simpson

September 30, 2018 by Lorna Peel

Frederick (Fred) Simpson was born in December 1849 at number 1 Ely Place Upper, Dublin, Ireland, the only son of Duncan Simpson, a renowned surgeon, and his wife, Maria. Duncan Simpson and Dr Will Fitzgerald’s father, Dr John Fitzgerald were best friends and Fred and Will also became best friends.

Fred and Will attended the Weslyan Connexional School (now known as Wesley College) where they became friends with Jeremiah (Jerry) Hawley from Kingstown (now Dun Laoghaire).

Instead of becoming a surgeon like his father, Fred studied medicine at Trinity College Dublin with Will and Jerry. On graduating, Jerry moved to London and set up practice there, Will set up a practice in the Liberties area of Dublin, and Fred joined Dr John Fitzgerald’s prosperous medical practice on Merrion Street Upper.

At the start of A Scarlet Woman in July 1880 and, after spending his last night of freedom with Will and Jerry in a brothel in Monto, Dublin’s red light district, Fred marries Margaret Dawson from Dame Street in St Andrew’s Church. By Christmas 1880, Fred’s father has died suddenly, his mother has gone to live with her spinster sister on Rutland Square (now Parnell Square), and Margaret is expecting a baby.

When Dr John Fitzgerald retires in December 1880, Will takes over the Merrion Street Upper medical practice and he and Fred go into partnership together. They begin to rebuild the practice following the departure of many patients who left when Will’s father departed rather unexpectedly.

When A Suitable Wife begins in January 1881, Will finds that being in partnership with his oldest friend isn’t all plain sailing. Fred hasn’t come to terms with the sudden death of his father and his own impending fatherhood. Fred has become a law unto himself and is on the brink of bringing the good name of the practice crashing down. There is also ill-feeling between Fred and Eva Bannister, who has been practice secretary for the past twenty years but is now threatening to resign. Eva has always dealt professionally with both doctors and patients so the cause of the animosity cannot be a trivial matter.

Dealing with troubles of his own, difficulties with both Fred and the practice are the last thing Will needs to contend with and when he challenges Fred they almost come to blows. After almost five years of running the Brown Street medical practice alone, has Will made a terrible mistake in going into partnership with Fred? What can Will do to resolve matters before he and Fred actually do come to blows, Eva resigns and patients begin to notice a bad atmosphere causing more of them to leave the practice? Is this the end of Will and Fred’s long friendship?

Dublin, Ireland, 1881. Will and Isobel Fitzgerald settle into number 30 Fitzwilliam Square, a home they could once only have dreamed of. A baby is on the way, Will takes over the Merrion Street Upper medical practice from his father and they are financially secure. But when Will is handed a letter from his elder brother, Edward, stationed with the army in India, the revelations it contains only serves to further alienate Will from his father.

Isobel is eager to adapt to married life on Fitzwilliam Square but soon realises her past can never be laid to rest. The night she met Will in a brothel on the eve of his best friend’s wedding has devastating and far-reaching consequences which will change the lives of the Fitzgerald family forever.

Read an excerpt from Chapter Two…

The following Monday, a gradual thaw had begun and a smoke-fog hung over Dublin. Will walked to the practice house half an hour early in order to write to two suppliers of fish bladder condoms, preferring to correspond from and have them sent to him there to avoid any embarrassment at number 30.

Hanging up his hat and overcoat in the office, he froze hearing a thud and then a moan from upstairs. He ran up the stairs two at a time and tried the door to his surgery but the room was still locked. He went along the landing, opened the door to Fred’s surgery and couldn’t help but stand and watch for a few moments. Fred was on his knees behind the desk, his head between the thighs of a young blonde woman seated in his chair, her head thrown back as she moaned and implored him never to stop.

“Fred.”

Fred jumped, straightened up and stared at him in consternation. “Will—”

“I think you should leave now.” He addressed the young woman remarkably calmly and she stood up allowing the skirt of her black cotton dress to fall. Grabbing her straw hat and black woollen shawl from the desk, she pushed past him and left the room. He heard her run down the stairs and a moment or two later, the front door slammed.

Fred got to his feet, pulled up his drawers and trousers and did up the buttons. “Will—” he began again but Will held up a hand.

“I could have been Eva coming to unlock all the doors.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Margaret won’t let me near her and—”

“That was the first and last time here, Fred. Do I make myself clear?”

Fred exhaled a humourless laugh. “You sounded exactly like your father, then.”

“Had my father caught you here with a prostitute?” he asked, Fred looked away and Will took it for a yes. “Well, I mean it, Fred.”

“Do you?” Fred demanded, turning back to him. “Christ, you can be so fucking holier than thou sometimes, Will. You wouldn’t be a tiny bit frustrated, would you? I take it you haven’t fucked Isobel since she lost the baby? Here.” Fred opened a desk drawer, lifted out a small red box and threw it at him. The box hit Will on the chest and fell to the floor. “Condoms. Take them and fuck your wife tonight.”

Will strode across the room, seized Fred by the throat and held him up against the wall. “First – my marriage is none of your concern. Second – your marriage is none of my concern. And third – if I find you here with a prostitute again, you will be out. You’re an excellent doctor but it was little wonder my father never made you his practice partner – you’re far too bloody immature.”

“Your father always wanted you to become his practice partner,” Fred croaked. “But you preferred to work in a fucking slum. You have all this and you still want to go back to the Liberties.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that Brown Street is not a slum and neither is Pimlico. I’m going back because I’m needed there.” Hearing the front door close, he let Fred go and stepped back from him. “You will not bring prostitutes here again,” he repeated quietly, then turned and left the room, stepping over the box of condoms.

Sitting down at the desk in his surgery, he closed his eyes for a few moments to suppress his temper before opening a desk drawer and lifting out some headed notepaper. He wrote the two letters then went straight out to post them so they would be amongst the first postal collections of the day.

After surgery three and a half hours later, he walked home without speaking to Fred again. He went into the morning room and found Isobel seated on the sofa reading a newspaper.

“Can we go to Pimlico this afternoon and clean the two rooms?” he asked her by way of a greeting.

“Yes, of course, we can,” she replied, closing and folding the newspaper before putting it on the arm of the sofa. “What is it? You sound angry.”

“I caught Fred in his surgery with a prostitute,” he said and her eyebrows rose but other than that, she didn’t seem at all surprised. “Needless to say, we argued. Oh, Christ.” Resting his hands on his hips, he stared up at the ceiling. “Have I made a terrible mistake going into partnership with Fred? Marriage hasn’t matured him, the death of his father hasn’t matured him, impending fatherhood hasn’t matured him…”

“Could you run the practice on your own?” she asked and he lowered his head.

“Yes, provided the number of patients stays as it is now but, ideally, the practice needs twice the number of patients we have now, and how would it look if I were to dissolve the partnership after such a short period of time?” Isobel’s frown gave him his answer. “I’ve given Fred one more chance,” he went on. “And if he throws it back in my face, then he’s out. Do you think Margaret suspects anything?”

“She seemed quite happy when I called but we aren’t really close enough friends for her to divulge anything too personal.”

“No, I suppose not. I’m sorry.” He bent and kissed her lips. “But sometimes Fred infuriates me.”

“Fred’s your oldest friend and you care about him. Which is why I think you should either postpone starting the surgery in Pimlico for a while. Or involve him, too.”

“Fred has the same attitude to the Liberties as my father and I don’t want a repeat of what that led to.”

“Well, it was just a suggestion,” she said with a little shrug.

“No, it’s a wonderful suggestion and if I broke Fred in gently—” He halted, seeing her smile. “Thank you,” he continued. “I’ll discuss it with Fred. The last thing I want is to fall out with him like I have with my father.”

“Shall we clean the rooms in Pimlico this afternoon, then?”

“No,” he decided. “Not until I’ve spoken to Fred. I have only three house calls to make this afternoon. Afterwards, I’ll take you out for tea or coffee – whatever you’d prefer. When the condoms arrive, I will make love to you for an entire afternoon.”

“When the condoms arrive?”

“I’ve ordered condoms from two manufacturers,” he explained. “And I’ll make my choice from them, although I know which Fred prefers.”

“Oh?”

“He threw a box of them at me.”

“Will, did you and Fred fight?” she asked slowly.

“Almost,” he admitted, staring down at his shoes like a naughty schoolboy. “I grabbed him by the throat.”

“For God’s sake, Will,” she snapped, getting to her feet. “What if Eva or your patients heard or saw you?”

“I know, I know. It won’t happen again.” She gave him a long look and he grimaced. “It won’t happen again, Isobel,” he repeated in a firm tone and this time she gave him a satisfied nod.

“You can take me out for coffee this afternoon. And perhaps a stroll around St Stephen’s Green? Then, on our way home, we’ll call to Ely Place Upper and invite Fred and Margaret to dinner in the next few days so you and he can discuss the future. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” he replied quietly then went to the fire to warm his hands.

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Title: A Suitable Wife

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Meet A Suitable Wife’s Margaret Simpson

September 23, 2018 by Lorna Peel

Margaret Simpson, née Dawson, was born on Dame Street, Dublin, Ireland in 1857, the younger daughter of the late Nicholas Dawson and his wife. Nicholas Dawson was a solicitor and his offices at street level are now leased to a law firm while his widow lives alone on the floors above.

Having been in love with Dr Fred Simpson since seeing him at a church service when she was sixteen, Margaret can’t believe her luck when they marry in July 1880 and she moves to number 1 Ely Place Upper. In December 1880, Fred’s surgeon father, Duncan Simpson, dies suddenly and Fred’s mother, Maria, moves out and goes to live with her spinster sister, Diana Wingfield, on Rutland Square. Margaret is now mistress of number 1, but also finds herself expecting a baby.

As Fred and Dr Will Fitzgerald are old friends, Margaret hopes she and Will’s new wife, Isobel, can also be friends. Margaret has many acquaintances but none that she can discuss ‘marital matters’ with. When A Suitable Wife begins in January 1881, Fred and Will’s friendship has come under strain, mainly due to Fred’s erratic behaviour, and a dinner is arranged at number 30 Fitzwilliam Square, Will and Isobel’s new home.

While Will and Fred attempt to reconcile their differences over port after the meal, Isobel and Margaret retire to the drawing room. Knowing Isobel’s reputation as a fallen woman and assuming Isobel will understand and offer advice, Margaret seizes the opportunity to confess the strain her marriage is under. Margaret has been married to Fred long enough for her to realise that while he is the love of her life, Fred can only love her in his own way and that she alone will never be able to satisfy him. Margaret then admits she has given her husband her blessing to find sexual satisfaction with prostitutes.

Unfortunately, Margaret gets carried away and goes far too far. Isobel is already nervous because this is her first dinner party at number 30 and is uncomfortable at the conversation having turned to prostitution. When Margaret informs her that if she can’t be a good wife to Will, he is a very handsome man and there are many ladies in Dublin who would welcome him into their bed, Isobel can’t help herself and hits her.

Given her past, Isobel knows she can never be a true friend to anyone except Will, but can she and Margaret ever be simply acquaintances? If she and Margaret can’t get along, what hope is there for their husbands whose friendship and partnership at the Merrion Street Upper medical practice are on the brink of collapse. Is Isobel striking Margaret going to be the straw which breaks the camel’s back?

Dublin, Ireland, 1881. Will and Isobel Fitzgerald settle into number 30 Fitzwilliam Square, a home they could once only have dreamed of. A baby is on the way, Will takes over the Merrion Street Upper medical practice from his father and they are financially secure. But when Will is handed a letter from his elder brother, Edward, stationed with the army in India, the revelations it contains only serves to further alienate Will from his father.

Isobel is eager to adapt to married life on Fitzwilliam Square but soon realises her past can never be laid to rest. The night she met Will in a brothel on the eve of his best friend’s wedding has devastating and far-reaching consequences which will change the lives of the Fitzgerald family forever.

Read an excerpt from Chapter Two…

Isobel was in the drawing room by the time Will arrived home and his brown eyes widened as they took in her evening dress. It was new, short-sleeved, and deep red in colour. His eyes rested on her cleavage and she exhaled an exasperated sigh.

“It is cut too low, I knew it.”

“No. It’s stunning. You are stunning. Oh,” he added softly. “The condoms can’t arrive quickly enough.”

“Don’t mention the condoms,” she whispered. “I’m trying not to think about them. Go and get changed,” she said, giving him a gentle push.

The servants had worked hard and both the drawing room and dining room looked magnificent lit for the first time by the new gas lamps. Fires had been lit early in the morning and, despite it freezing sharply all day, both rooms were pleasantly warm as she made a circuit of them waiting for Will.

“Mrs Fitzgerald?” Will was standing in the drawing room doorway dressed in white tie and tails and she couldn’t help but stare. Would she ever get used to the fact that this handsome man was her husband? She hoped not. She never ever wanted to take him for granted. “Shall we do, do you think?” he asked with a grin.

She went to him and kissed his lips. “I think we shall do very well, Dr Fitzgerald. Ah.” She smiled, hearing voices on the stairs. “They’re here.”

Mary showed Margaret and Fred into the drawing room and Isobel kissed their cheeks.

“Thank you for coming. Come and sit by the fire, you must be frozen. Dinner will be served shortly.”

The three-course meal was delicious and, silently thanking Mrs Dillon for being such an excellent cook, Isobel got up from the table.

“It’s time to allow the doctors to have a chat,” she announced lightly and she and Margaret went into the drawing room. “Some more lemonade?” she asked Margaret as she walked to the drinks tray.

“Yes, please.”

“I think I’ll have some, too,” she added, reaching for the jug. “I don’t particularly like sherry and my mother always looks horrified when I ask for whiskey or brandy.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

“Thank you, but I’d prefer lemonade.” She poured two glasses and passed one to Margaret. “Please, sit down.”

“Thank you.” Margaret chose the sofa and smoothed a hand down the bodice of her sky blue evening dress before resting it on her small belly. “This is a beautiful room.”

“Yes, it is,” Isobel replied as she sat down at the other end while glancing at the pale gold wallpaper and the sofa and two armchairs upholstered in burgundy silk satin. “Will and I really must use it more. Perhaps in the summer.”

“Isobel, while it is just the two of us, there is something I think you ought to know.”

“Oh?” she replied a little apprehensively.

“I know Will caught Fred with a prostitute in his surgery. In fact, I know Fred uses prostitutes regularly.”

Isobel had to consciously close her mouth. How on earth had Margaret found out? Surely Fred wouldn’t have been foolish enough to disclose to his wife of less than a year that he uses prostitutes? She took a sip of lemonade and put her glass down on a side table, not quite knowing how, or if she should respond.

“I have discussed the matter with Fred and he assures me he will be more discreet in future,” Margaret went on.

“In future?”

“I’ve known all along that Fred will not be faithful to me,” Margaret told her matter-of-factly. “My only stipulation during our discussion was that he use condoms with the prostitutes.”

“I see.”

“Oh, dear, I think I’ve shocked you, Isobel.”

It will take much more than that to shock me, she smiled wryly to herself. “No, not at all,” she said. “I’m glad you feel you can confide in me.”

“Thank you. I could never speak like this to my other friends but with you…”

“Being a fallen woman..?”

“I wasn’t going to put it quite like that.” Margaret put her glass beside Isobel’s. “But I have discovered I do enjoy sexual relations as well. However, I know I will never fully satisfy Fred. And I would rather we did not engage in sexual relations while I am pregnant,” she said, laying a hand on her belly again. “So he finds release elsewhere. With my blessing.”

“I must admit I could never give Will my blessing to—”

“You and Will are very lucky. You both love and satisfy each other.”

“Yes, we do.”

“But you cannot give him a child.”

Isobel tensed. “I will give him a child, Margaret.”

“I hope for your sake you are right, Isobel. Will is a very handsome man and I know for a fact that there are many ladies in Dublin who would welcome him into their bed and—” Margaret broke off and screamed as Isobel struck her hard on the cheek.

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When Alfie and David are attacked outside a club for gay men and Will’s father hears a delirious Alfie calling out for David, John puts two and two together and is furious. Isobel pleads with John to turn a blind eye and he reluctantly agrees. But John Fitzgerald should not have been trusted.

Isobel is reunited with a ghost from her past unearthing memories she would rather have kept buried while the fragile marriage of convenience orchestrated by John becomes more and more brittle before it snaps with horrifying consequences.

Read an excerpt from Chapter Six…

After a moment or two’s uncertainty, Margaret sat beside him and he heard Bob whisper to the servants to please leave the room with him and they would attend to the maid in the hall.

The door closed after them and Will forced himself to give Margaret a kind smile.

“We’ve known each other for a few years now, haven’t we?” he asked and she nodded.

“Yes. And?”

“It’s David,” she replied with a sniff. “He doesn’t love me.”

“Margaret, you knew David would not love you when you married him.”

“But I hoped,” she added and screwed up her face as she fought to find the correct words. “I hoped he might fall in love with me eventually. He threw Alfie Stevens over for me, after all, but he does not even pretend to love me. In fact, he recently made it plain that I disgust him.”

“Do you love him?” Will asked and was relieved when she shook her head.

Tears stung his eyes and he nodded. “I miss Fred every day – and I will continue to miss him every day for the rest of my life.”

Margaret gave him a wobbly smile, rested her temple on his shoulder and he put an arm around her, wondering when she had last been afforded some kindness.

“Margaret, please leave this house for your own wellbeing.”

“And go where?” she asked miserably. “Neither Mother nor Elizabeth approved of this marriage and—”

“What on earth are you doing? Get away from my wife.”

Will and Margaret jerked apart and he got off the bed. David, with Will’s father behind him, was standing at the bedroom door.

“We’re-we’re not doing anything,” Margaret stammered before he could speak. “Today, I have been rather… upset and I did something I now very much regret.”

“What was it?” David asked.

“Margaret slapped Dr O’Brien when he called here a short time ago,” Will interjected and, out of the corner of an eye, saw Margaret give him an incredulous glance.

“Why would Dr O’Brien call here?” David added suspiciously.

“I called to number 30 earlier today and matters became rather heated,” Margaret explained. “I behaved atrociously and a short time ago Dr O’Brien called here to inquire after my state of health. It was then that I behaved atrociously to him.”

“In that case, you should go downstairs to the hall where he is waiting with Isobel and apologise to him.”

“I shall,” Margaret replied and scurried from the room.

“Do you often choose to sit on the beds of ladies who are not your wife?” David demanded and Will tensed.

“Only ones who have realised their husband will never even like them and simply married them for material gain.”

“Will,” his father snapped.

“You don’t socialise either. And I would thank you and your wife not to interfere.”

“That is because my wife and I are not desperate to achieve a higher social status. And we are ‘interfering’ because very soon, your wife’s health will breakdown completely.”

“Just like your mother’s has,” David sneered and Will made a grab for his throat, only for his father to push him away.

“Enough.” His father placed himself between them. “Do not mention my wife in that way ever again,” he ordered David, who flushed.

“I apologise,” he replied quietly.

“I am ashamed to say that Margaret has been neglected lately,” his father continued. “That shall be remedied, Will, I can assure you.”

“Remedied in what way?” Will asked. “Her family need to know she is ill so they can give her the help and support she needs – and if you won’t tell them – I will.”

“Don’t make threats.”

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James and Martha married in December 1881 at St Peter’s Church and James moved into number 55. He continued to practise law alone from his offices on Westmoreland Street.

When Will and Isobel discovered Will’s father, John, had persuaded Fred Simpson’s childless widow, Margaret to enter into a marriage of convenience with Alfie’s former lover David Powell, it enraged them and they retaliated by denying John access to his three grandchildren.

Isobel is reunited with a ghost from her past unearthing memories she would rather have kept buried while the fragile marriage of convenience orchestrated by John becomes more and more brittle before it snaps with horrifying consequences.

Read an excerpt from Chapter One…

Will managed to swallow his anger at his father for most of the afternoon as he made house calls. Closing number 30’s front door at just before half past four, it rose again and he shook his head as Isobel came out of the morning room.

“Young John has made a friend and I may have made one, too,” she announced with a smile and kissed his lips.

“Oh?” he replied, hanging his hat on the stand and placing his medical bag on the hall table before following her into the morning room while she told him about the Pearsons. “Her husband lost an arm?”

“Yes. His right arm.”

“Where was he stationed with the army?”

“India, where he and Marianne got married, and then Egypt.”

“And they are moving into number 7. Well, well. I’m glad the house won’t be standing empty for much longer. What is Daniel like?”

“Small and blonde and I don’t think he had ever seen ducks before.”

Will smiled, hearing voices in the hall. “How was Mother?” he asked just as the door opened and Zaineb, one of their house-parlourmaids, showed a worried-looking James Ellison into the room.

“Gorman said you asked that I call and that it was a professional matter.”

“I’m afraid it is,” Will replied, nodding his thanks to Zaineb and the maid left the room. “Please sit down, James, and we’ll explain.”

He and Isobel sat on the huge reddish-brown leather sofa while James sat in one of the armchairs and listened intently while Will recounted the meeting with his father in St Stephen’s Green.

“And he said, ‘If you and Will continue to deny me that right, I shall have no choice but to speak with my solicitor,’” the solicitor clarified.

“Yes.” Will nodded.

“And did you reply?” James added.

“I told him not to dare threaten us. Then a few minutes later, Isobel saw him go into the offices of Hugo Blackwood & Son – Hugo Blackwood is his solicitor. James, does my father have a legal right to visit his grandchildren?”

“Well.” James sighed. “He is the children’s grandfather and you have been denying him access to them for over a year…”

“So what do you propose we do?”

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**When a bewildering engagement notice is published in The Irish Times, the name of one of the persons concerned sends Will and Isobel on a race against time across Dublin and forces them to break a promise and reveal a closely guarded secret.**

**“I am retired from practising medicine,” he clarified. “I now edit the Journal of Irish Medicine.”**

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