by Nora Roberts
“It’s a feeling—and I don’t know if it’s just stress or if it’s real. But I feel. Stella, she wants the baby. This baby.” Hayley pressed a hand to her belly.
“How—”
“She can’t. No power on this earth, no power anywhere, is strong enough to push me aside. You know, because you’ve had a child inside you. Harper, he’d freak.”
“Explain this to me, so I don’t.”
“She gets mixed up is the best way I can explain it. From the here and now, to back in her own time. She wavers back and forth. When she’s in the now, she wants what I have. This child, the life, the body. Even more, wealth and privilege. She wants the sensations and the payoff. Do you understand?”
“All right, yes.”
“She’s much more frightening, much more selfish when her mind’s in the now. When it’s back, when she’s caught up in what happened to her, it’s like it is happening. Then she’s just angry and vindictive, so she wants someone to pay for what happened to her. Or she’s sad, and pitiable, and she just wants it all to stop. She’s tired. Harper thinks she committed suicide.”
“I know. We talked a little.”
“He thinks she hanged herself in the nursery. Right there while the baby slept. She could’ve done it. She was lost and crazy enough to have done it.”
“I know that, too.” Stella rose, walked to the edge of the patio to look out over the yard. “I’ve been having dreams again.”
“What? When?”
“Not here, not at night. Daydreams, you could say. At work. On Harper ground. Images like before of the dahlia. The blue dahlia. Only it’s monstrous. That’s how she wants me to see it. Petals like razors, waiting to slice your fingers to ribbons if you touch it. It’s not growing out of a garden this time.” She turned back; met Hayley’s eyes. “But out of a grave. Unmarked, black dirt. The dahlia is the only thing that grows there.”
“When did they start?”
“A few days ago.”
“Do you think Roz has had them, too?”
“We’ll need to ask her.”
“Stella, we have to go up to the old nursery.”
“Yes.” She walked back, took the hand Hayley held out to her. “We will.”
IT WAS EASY to talk without men when the announced activity was wedding planning. Men, Hayley noted, scattered like ants when terms like guest lists and color schemes were mentioned.
So they were able to sit on Stella’s patio in the balm of the evening with Lily being passed from one pair of arms to another, or playing in the grass with Parker.
“I didn’t think it would be so easy to chase Harper off,” Hayley complained. “You’d think he’d want some input into the wedding plans. He’s getting married, too.”
Roz and Stella exchanged amused looks before Roz reached over, patted Hayley’s hand. “Sweet, foolish child.”
“I guess it doesn’t matter, since that’s not what we’re doing. But still.” Annoyed with herself, Hayley waved her hands. “Anyway. Amelia’s been messing with you, too.”
“Twice,” Roz confirmed. “Both times when I was alone in the propagation house. I’d be working, and then I’d be somewhere else. It’s dark, too dark to tell where, and cold. Very cold. I’m standing over an open grave. When I look down I see her, looking back at me. Her hands are clasped over the stem of a black rose. Or it looks black in the dark.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Stella demanded.
“The same could be asked of you. I intended to tell you, and did tell Mitch. But we’ve had a few major distractions.”
Hayley hauled Lily onto her lap and admired the thick plastic bracelet she played with. “I know that when this first started and I suggested a seance everybody thought it was a joke. But maybe we should try it. The three of us have this connection to her. Maybe if we tried, really tried to communicate, she’d tell us what she wants.”
“I’m not pulling out the turban and crystal ball anytime soon,” Roz said, definitely. “In any case, I don’t think she knows. By that, I mean she wants to be found—and I think she means her grave, or her remains. But she doesn’t know where it is.”
“We can’t be a hundred percent certain it’s on Harper property,” Stella put in.
“No, we can’t. Mitch is doing all he can to find death records, burial records. We don’t think there are any for her.”
“A secret burial.” Hayley nodded. “But she always wants us to know what happened to her. It still pisses her off.” She shrugged, smiled a little. “It’s one of the things I get, pretty loud and clear. If she was killed, or killed herself, in the house, we need to find out.”
“The nursery,” Roz stated. “It was still in use when I was born.”
“You stayed up there when you were a baby?” Hayley asked.
“So I’m told. At least for the first few months, with the nursemaid. My grandmother didn’t approve, Grandmama Harper. Apparently she’d only used it when they were entertaining. She used her considerable influence on my parents until they moved me to a room on the second floor. I never used it for my boys.”
“Why?”
Roz pursed her lips and thought over Hayley’s question. “First, I didn’t want them that far away from me. And yes, I didn’t like the feel of the room. Something I couldn’t explain, and didn’t think about that much at the time.”
“The furniture in Lily’s room came from there.”
“Yes. Once Mason was out of the crib, I had everything taken back up. I took to storing the boys’ things in there when they outgrew them. We don’t use the third floor as a rule. It’s too costly to maintain, and more space than we can practically use. Though I have had parties in the ballroom in the past.”
“I’d never been up there,” Hayley commented. “Which is strange now that I think about it, because I like going through houses, seeing how they look, picturing them the way they were, that kind of thing. But I never even thought of going up there in all the time I’ve lived in the house. Stella?”
“No, and you’re right, it is odd. The boys had the run of the house for more than a year. You’d think I’d have had to chase them down from there at some point. But I don’t think they ever went up either. Even if they did it in secret, Luke would’ve spilled. He always does.”
“I think we should.” Hayley looked from one to the other. “I think we have to.”
“Tonight?” Stella asked.
“I don’t think I can stand to wait. It’s driving me crazy.”
“If that’s what we’re going to do, we’ll all do it together. The six of us,” Roz said. “Not the children. David can keep them downstairs. You have to be sure, Hayley. At this point it seems, of all of us, you’re the closest to her.”
“I am sure. But not just me, which is something else I wanted to bring up. Harper. Her feelings for him, about him.” A little chilled, Hayley rubbed her arms. “They’re awfully mixed, and potent. She loves him—the child of the child of the child sort of thing. And she hates him—a man, a Harper man, Reginald’s blood.”
She looked at Stella, at Roz. “That combination of feelings, it’s powerful. I think maybe more powerful because of the way Harper and I feel about each other.”
“Love, sex, kinship, vengeance, grief.” Roz nodded. “And insanity.”
“His feelings about her are pretty mixed, too.” Hayley let out a breath. “I don’t know if that matters, but I think all of it, at this point, everything’s important. I think we must be getting close to the end of it.”
“Hallelujah,” Stella announced.
“I know. I want this over. I want to really plan a wedding, and plan for this baby. I want to sit here with the two of you and talk about flowers and music and the kind of dress I’m going to wear.”
Roz covered Hayley’s hand with hers. “We will.”
“Last night, before it happened, it was like I was imagining it, seeing myself in a long white dress and the flowers . . . But I guess that’s out.” She gave a hal
f shrug as she patted her belly. “I don’t guess I’m entitled to a long white dress.”
“Honey.” Roz gave Hayley’s hand a quick squeeze. “Every bride’s entitled to a long white dress.”
FOOD CAME FIRST, a family meal, the kind of ritual that brought them all together where flowers were set and children chattered. Roz had said such things were important, and Hayley could see the purpose of it.
This is who we are, it seemed to say. What we are and what we’ll be regardless of trouble. Maybe because of it.
She’d been given this, this family. A mother, a sister, a lover, brothers and friends. A child who was loved by them, and another child to come.
Whatever it took to keep it whole and safe, she would do.
So she ate. She talked and listened, helped wipe up spills, and buried her nerves under the treasure of normality.
There was talk of flowers and books, of school and books. And here was the talk of wedding plans she’d pined for.
“I guess Hayley told you we’d like to get married here, if that suits you, Mama.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Roz set her fork aside. “In the gardens? We’ll insist the weather stay fine, and have tents as a backup. I intend to roll up my sleeves regarding the flowers. I insist you give me my head there. You’ll want lilies, I expect.”
“Yes. I want to carry red lilies.”
“Bold colors then, toss the pastels. I can work with that. I know you don’t want anything too formal, and since we’ve had two weddings already this year, I think we can iron out the details without much pain and suffering.”
“Step away now,” Logan advised Harper. “Save yourself. Just say, ‘That sounds fine.’ And if they give you two choices in anything, don’t fall into the trap. Just say, ‘They’re both great,’ and tell her to pick.”
“He thinks he’s being funny,” Stella said dryly. “I’m not kicking him under the table because he’s right.”
“How come everybody’s getting married?” Gavin demanded. “How come we always have to wear ties?”
“Because they like to torture us,” Logan told him. “It’s the way of women.”
“They should have to wear ties, too.”
“I’ll wear a tie,” Stella offered. “You wear high heels.”
“I know why people get married,” Luke piped up. “So they can sleep in the same bed and make babies. Did you and Mitch make a baby yet?” he asked Roz.
“We already made our quota some time ago. And on that note.” Roz pushed away from the table. “I think it’s time for you boys to help David clear this up so you can have ice cream in the kitchen.”
“All right, troops. Fall in. You, too, Private.” Before Hayley could deal with it herself, David moved over to take Lily out of the high chair. “Just because you’re short, doesn’t mean you can skate out of KP. She likes to help me load the dishwasher,” he said to Hayley. “We’re fine.”
“I just need to talk to you for one minute in the kitchen.”
“Clear and stack, gentlemen,” he ordered, then carried Lily out of the dining room. “We got this end covered,” he said to Hayley. “You don’t need to worry.”
“No, that’s not it. I know Lily’s fine with you. It’s about the wedding. I need to ask you for something.”
He set Lily down, gave her a pot and a spoon to bang. “What do you need?”
“I know this might sound sort of strange, but I think you get to tailor a day like your wedding day to suit you best, don’t you?”
“If not that day, what day?”
“That’s right. So I was wondering, I was hoping, you’d give me away.”
“What?” David’s face went utterly blank. “Me?”
“I know you’re not old enough to be my daddy, or anything. But I wasn’t thinking about it that way. I was thinking how you’re one of my best friends, and Harper’s, too. How we’re like family. And how a day like that’s about family. I don’t have my daddy, or any blood kin I love the way I love you. So I want you to walk me down the aisle—so to speak—and give me to Harper. It would mean a lot to me.”
His eyes went misty as he wrapped his arms around her. “That’s the sweetest thing,” he crooned. “The damnedest sweetest thing.”
“Will you?”
He drew back. “I would be honored.” Taking both her hands, he turned them over, kissed her palms. “Extremely.”
“Whew. I thought you might think it was silly.”
“Not even close. I’m so proud, and touched. And, honey, if you don’t go on now, I’m going to embarrass myself in front of my troops.”
“Me, too.” She sniffled. “Okay. We’ll talk about all of it later on.” She crouched down to kiss Lily’s head, and was largely ignored. “You be good, baby girl.”
“Hayley.” David drew a breath as she stopped at the door. “Your daddy? He’d be proud, too.”
The best she could manage was a nod as she left him.
She brushed away tears as she followed the voices in the parlor, then paused when she heard the temper in Harper’s.
“I don’t like this idea, not one bit. And I like less the fact that the three of you were off plotting this on your own.”
“We womenfolk,” Roz said with a sarcasm that dripped so heavy Hayley could feel its weight outside the room.
“The fact that you are women isn’t any of my doing,” he shot back. “But the fact that my woman is pregnant is. I don’t take chances on this.”
“All right, you have a valid point. But what do you intend to do with her for the next seven, eight months, honey?”
“Protect her.”
“You do make it hard to argue.”
“Arguing isn’t going to help.” Mitch’s voice of reason cut between them. “We can discuss and debate, and we’re unlikely to be in full agreement on all points. But we do have to come to some decisions.”
Hayley straightened her spine, and stepped into the room. “I’m sorry. Hard not to overhear. Harper, I was going to ask if we could go outside so I could talk to you, but I think what I have to say needs to be said here, to everyone.”
“I’ve got some things to say you might rather hear in private.”
She only smiled. “There’ll be plenty of time for you to yell at me in private. A lifetime of it. I know you kept it buttoned till now because of the kids. But I’d like you to hear me out before you say anything more.”
She cleared her throat and moved farther into the room. “Earlier today, when I was alone, I was wondering how I’d gotten here. I’d never figured on moving away from where I grew up, having a couple of kids before I figured out where I really wanted to go, really wanted to do. Getting married, having babies, that was going to be later, after I’d made something of myself, had some fun. Here I am, living in another state. I’ve got a daughter not yet two and another baby on the way. I’m getting married. I’m working in a field I never thought about being in before. How’d I get here? What am I doing here?”
“If you’re not happy—”
“Please, just listen. I asked myself that. I’ve still got choices. There are always choices. So I asked myself, is this what I want, is this where I want to be, what I want to do? And it is. I love you. I didn’t know I had all this in me.”
She kept her eyes on Harper’s, only on Harper’s and crossed her hands over her heart. “I didn’t know I could love a child the way I do Lily. I didn’t know I could love a man the way I love you. If I had every choice in the world, this is the one I’d pick. Being with you, with our children, in this place. Because you see that’s one more thing, Harper. I love this house, I love this place. As much as you do. What it is, what it stands for, what it’ll be to our children, and theirs.”
“I know. My mind traveled that same road. That’s why you’re the one for me.
“I can’t walk away from here. Please don’t ask me to do that. I can’t walk away from this house, this family, the work I’ve come to love. The only way I can stay
is to try to do this thing, to settle this. Right a wrong, or at least understand it. Maybe I was meant to. Maybe we found each other because we were meant to. I don’t know if I can do it if you’re not with me.” She scanned the room. “All of you.”
Then she looked at Harper. “Be with me, Harper. Trust me to do what’s right. Trust us to do it.”
He stepped to her, rested his brow on hers. “I am with you.”
twenty
“THERE’S NO GUARANTEE anything will happen.” Mitch slipped a spare tape in his pocket.
“I think I can make it happen. What I mean . . .” Hayley moistened her lips. “I think I can draw her. She wants this—a part of her does, and has for a century.”
“And the other part?” Harper asked.
“Wants revenge. When it comes down to it, she’ll probably be more inclined to hurt you than me.”
“And she can hurt us,” Roz pointed out. “We’ve seen that.”
“So we go up there armed with cameras and tape recorders.” Logan shook his head.
“We happy few,” Mitch stated.
“Well, she’s raised the stakes.” Logan took Stella’s hand. “Since none of us are willing to fold, let’s ante up.”
“We stay together,” Roz said as they started up the stairs. “No matter what. We’ve never really confronted her as a group before. I think there’s strength in that.”
“She always had the upper hand, she always moved first.” Harper nodded. “Yeah, we stay together.”
When they reached the third floor, Roz turned toward the ballroom. Going with instinct, she stepped forward, pushed the double pocket doors open.
“There were lovely parties here. I remember creeping up at night to watch the dancing.”
She reached in to switch on the light. It showered down on the shrouded furniture, and the lovely pattern of the maple floor. “I nearly sold those chandeliers once.” She looked up at the dazzling trio of them dripping down from ornate plaster medallions. “Couldn’t bring myself to do it, even though it would’ve made day-to-day living easier. I gave my own parties here, once upon a time. I believe it’s time I did so again.”
“She came in this way, that night. I’m sure of it.” Though her hand was already in Harper’s, Hayley tightened her grip. “Don’t let go.”
“Not a chance.”
“She came in the terrace doors. They weren’t locked. She could’ve broken the glass if they had been. She came in, and oh . . . Gilt and crystal, the smell of beeswax and lemon oil. The rain dripping, dripping from the gutters. Turn on the lights.”
“I have,” Roz said quietly.
“No, she turns on the light. Harper.”
“Right here.”
“I can see it. I can see it.”
The fog rolled in the doors behind her, smoking damp over the glossy floors. Her feet were caked with mud, with blood where she’d trod on stones, and left streaks of that mud, of that blood, where she walked.
Alive still. Heart beating blood.
This, this is how they lived at Harper House. Grand rooms lit by sparkling chandeliers, gilt mirrors on the walls, long, polished tables and potted palms so lush they smelled of the tropics.
She had never been to the tropics. She and James would go one day, one day they’d go and stroll on sugar sand by warm blue water.
But no, but no, their lives were here, in Harper House. They had cast her out, but she would be here. Always here. To dance in this ballroom, lit by crystal drops.
She swayed, a partnerless waltz, her head tilted up flirtatiously. The blade in her hand shooting light from its keen edge.
She would dance here, night after night if she chose. Drink champagne, wear fine jewels. She would teach James to waltz with her. How handsome he would be, wrapped in his soft blue blanket. How sweet a picture they would make. Mother and son.
She must go to him now, go to James, so they could always be together.
She wandered out. Where would the nursery be? In the other wing, of course.
