Rebecca's Ghost

by Marianne Petit

  “Let the evidence show Mistress Morgan is innocent,” exclaimed John Blair with satisfaction. He dropped into his chair and slammed his palms to the table.

  “I feared for me life!” Sallie screamed.

  The judge’s gavel hit the desk a few times before the noise level diminished to a dull murmur. “The defendant, Elizabeth Rose Morgan is free to go.”

  Tears of relief welled in Elizabeth’s eyes.

  “Your honor…” Philip stood. “May I address the court?”

  Elizabeth wiped her eyes. What more could he say? He had saved her, saved her from the gallows. ‘Twas over.

  The magistrate nodded. “You may.”

  Philip strolled over to her attorney. They chatted a moment, then Philip unwrapped a familiar looking book.

  Elizabeth’s thoughts whirled. She gripped the pulpit to keep steady. Where had he found her mother’s diary? Why did he bring it to court? For what purpose could it serve?

  “There is one more piece of evidence I would like to draw the court's attention to,” he said.

  “Mistress Morgan is free to go. What more is needed?” the magistrate replied.

  “I would like to clear her name of any wrong doings that associate her with her guardian, known as Jonathan Tisdale.”

  The magistrate nodded with approval.

  “I have here a diary which belonged to the defendant’s mother. Among the many pages of her most inner thoughts, she has written of her daughter’s innocence.” Philip looked to the judge. “If I may?”

  “Proceed.”

  Philip turned toward the pulpit. His gaze brushed Elizabeth’s, then fell to the page. “My dearest Elizabeth. If you read this I have gone to rest, for only in my death, can I bear to reveal the words that I must tell you. Jonathan Tisdale, the man I married is a sharper; a thief.”

  Elizabeth’s stance stiffened.

  She focused her attention back to Philip as he read her mother’s private thoughts.

  “Though my heart at first refused to believe what my eyes have seen, ‘tis true. You have been an unsuspecting victim of a dishonest dodge that has been going on for some time and only recently has come to my attention.”

  Not a whisper could be heard from the crowd as all ears strained to hear his words; her mother’s words.

  “While you entertained his patients with your music, he laced their drink with a potent mixture that rendered them helpless. Once alone in the room with them, he lifted coin and jewels from their person. I have heard him convince many an unsuspecting soul they had naught but their clothes upon their back and a few coins as payment in their pocket. I do not understand how this can be, but you have no obligation to him and must tell the authorities.”

  Philip paused a moment and stared down at the page. Frown lines creased his forehead, then he continued. “Please understand I loved him and ‘twas that love and a fear of him, that held my silence until now. Please forgive me.”

  Tears clouded Elizabeth’s vision. Dear mother, I understand, there is nothing to forgive.

  In different ways, they were both prisoners. She had no other place to call home; her mother had been a prisoner of the heart and love made excuses.

  Philip’s rich, dark, captivating voice broke through her reverie. “Beneath the inside lid of my armonica hidden behind the cloth you will find coins strapped to the wooden cover.”

  Elizabeth stared dumbfounded.

  “With this money you will be free of him. Free to find the happiness you so justly deserve.” He snapped the book shut.

  “What proof do you have that the words you read were written by the defendant’s mother?” a male voice called out.

  Elizabeth recognized Franklin Gazettee, the man who had brought the letter of her guardian’s to the court as evidence the day before.

  “I, Marlinda Vanderness, is your proof.”

  All eyes turned to the back of the courthouse.

  Elizabeth blinked with surprise as her mother’s old friend carried her reed-like, slender frame gracefully toward the front of the room.

  It had been some time since she had seen her, about ten years to be exact, but time had been kind.

  Though her brown hair was streaked with gray, her rosy cheeks and lively eyes were wrinkle-free.

  She made her way past Blair, then Philip and acknowledged him with a nod.

  “Your grace.” She stopped before the judge. “I am a long time friend of the defendant’s mother. Not only I have written many letters to my friend Rose, but she has written to me over the past years. I know her hand well and would like to attest to the validity of her diary. Here is her last written word to me.”

  She handed the letter to the judge.

  “And if the need arises as to the validity of my good name, I believe you know a good friend of mine, George Wythe.”

  The judge nodded and read the parchment. “Proceed.”

  Marlinda reached for the book held out to her by Philip. She flipped open the cover, thumbed through the pages and scanned the written words. When she finished, she slowly closed the diary, swallowed, then raised her gaze to the judge.

  “‘Tis the words of my dear departed friend Rose.”

  “Then so be it,” the judge declared with a wave. “All charges and accusations are hereby dropped.”

  He glanced to Elizabeth. “You are cleared of all and may step down. This court is dismissed.”

  Suddenly the room came alive with noise and commotion.

  Elizabeth stepped down.

  Philip came to her side.

  Marlinda embraced her, then backed up, as her attorney took Elizabeth’s hand and kissed it. She thanked him above the grating roar of voices.

  People hurried from the hall and she followed with her friends at her side.

  Her footsteps echoed off the brick facade of the Courthouse and bounced between the broad stone steps and white portico, as thoughts of freedom bounced across her mind.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Elizabeth stepped through the front door of Ablington Manor, and sighed.

  Justice had been served. When found, Tisdale would be put away. She was done with him.

  Though it felt so good to be free, her heart felt heavy, her spirits low. ‘Twas time to leave. Time to leave all those she loved.

  Tyler stood by the door. “Welcome back Mistress Morgan.” He nodded.

  “Thank you. ‘Tis good to be back.”

  The sound of running footsteps padding across the polished wood floors broke into her thoughts.

  William, rounded the corner.

  He wore a smile on his face and for the very first time a twinkle in his eyes.

  He bolted over and wrapped his arms around her.

  Tears clouded Elizabeth’s vision.

  Lovingly she stroked the top of his head.

  Philip’s brows shot up in surprise.

  “Well ‘tis about time ye’re home.” Mary ambled into the hall. She stopped short and stared at William. A warm smile lit her face.

  “Mary. You look well.” Elizabeth replied.

  “Thanks to ye magic potion.”

  Marlinda placed her hand on Elizabeth’s arm. “I’m afraid this reunion will have to be cut short.”

  “Nonsense.” Philip’s uncomprehending gaze fell upon Marlinda. His jaw tightened, then he strode toward Tyler and handed him his hat. “There is no need to rush back to Boston so soon.”

  Marlinda turned and faced him. “But we must. The ship I came on leaves the harbor on its return voyage in three days. No other vessel sails for months.” She turned toward Elizabeth. “You do still want to return with me?”

  Did she? Nay. Elizabeth hesitated. What choice did she have? He said he’d never marry her. “Yes. If you will have me.”

  “Of course.” Marlinda smiled.

  Philip glanced at Elizabeth. “I see.”

  Was that disappointment she saw in his eyes?

  “Lass. I’ll be putting a trunk up in yer chambers.” Mary’s eyes
misted. She turned toward the stairs.

  “Thank you.” Elizabeth gathered her skirt in her hand and followed.

  “I thought to visit your town and do a little shopping. Elizabeth, will you join me?” Marlinda asked.

  Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder. “I should go with you, but I tire.”

  “Understandable. After what you’ve been through. You go and rest my dear.”

  “I will have a carriage brought around for you.” Philip relied.

  “Thank you. That would be most kind.” Marlinda turned toward the door.

  Her footsteps heavy, Elizabeth trudged up the stairs after Mary.

  She glanced around the cheery room, she’d spent many a night in, and sighed. She would miss this room. She would miss Philip.

  “‘Twas a bit of luck Madame Vanderess arrivin’ in time help clear ye name,” Mary reached to the corner and pulled out a trunk.

  “Yes.”

  “Got yer letter and took the next boat over. His Lordship was a happy man upon her arrival. Knew without her testimony, there’d be a good chance yer mother’s diary would be for naught.”

  Mary waddled over to carved chest at the foot of the bed and reached for a light blue striped dress. “He’ll miss ye. We’ll all miss ye.”

  She pulled a silver sash belt and a white muslin fichu from the draw. “This will do ye fine as a travelin’--” Mary’s voice broke with tears, “dress.”

  Elizabeth forced a smile, and rested her hand on Mary’s arm. “Thank you.”

  Mary sniffled, then made her way to the chair and laid the gown across the back and arms.

  “Do you know why Mistress Sallie told the truth? She could have lied, despite the evidence his Lordship had on her.”

  “I asked his Lordship the same. I reckon ‘tis because he gave her his word he’d stand up for her in court, or see her in hell,” she made the sign of the cross. “If’n ye pardon me words.”

  Needing to be alone with her thoughts, Elizabeth placed her hand across her forehead, feigning a headache. “Mary, if you don’t mind, I’d like to rest some before we continue.”

  “Yes, ‘twould be good. I’ll make sure all is packed before you leave.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mary nodded, ambled toward the hall. She started to close the door, then opened it to let Mozart in. Then, with a smile, she shut the door behind her.

  Elizabeth plopped down on her bed.

  Mozart jumped up beside her. He rubbed his soft black fur against her arm, and meowed.

  Tears welled in her eyes.

  “I knew this day would come.” She picked her cat up and held him close. “But I didn’t expect it so soon.” She stroked Mozart’s back gently.

  Love hurt. It hurt so much.

  “I’ll never love another as I love him.” How could she?

  She buried her face against Mozart’s head.

  Philip had pushed aside her fears, and quelled her past memories. He’d saved her from the gallows. What had she done for him, but argue over William, drag him to court to save her reputation and cause him further sleepless nights?

  Mozart shook his head.

  Elizabeth lifted her chin and stared out the window. “He made me feel so safe. How can I ever thank him?”

  Mozart meowed.

  “I believe I know what I can bestow upon him.”

  She placed Mozart beside her. “Me.”

  He may not love her, but he desired her. She had seen that often enough.

  She rushed to the door and threw it open. “Mary.” She glanced out the door and was surprised to see Philip walking down the hall.

  “She is not here, but may I be of some service?”

  One night spent in his arms was all she needed to carry his memory with her across the sea

  “A bath… I--I thought a bath would be nice.”

  Besides her reputation could stand another faux pa.“If one could be arranged?”

  His clear blue eyes beheld her. “Most certainly. I’ll have Tyler, bring a tub up to your chambers.”

  “Nay. Tis for you.” Anxiety churned. “I promised.”

  He stared complete surprise on his face.

  Her cheeks warmed. “‘Twill help you sleep. And..” Her heart raced. She cast her gaze down, then up. “I will write down everything I put into the water so Tyler will know what needs to be done when I am gone,” she said, her words rushed.

  They both froze in awkward silence.

  Philip studied her intensely and she wondered if he could read her thoughts. If he did, he’d be shocked.

  “I will see to it right away.” He turned. “You will be in my chambers in?”

  “Ten minutes. I will need ten more to set the water. Nay. Twenty.”

  “I will knock before I enter.”

  “Yes. Of course.” He’d expect her to be gone before he entered, only… the thought sent her pulses spinning.

  “Fine.” He nodded, turned, glanced over his shoulder as though hesitate, unsure then continued down the hall.

  “Fine,” she mumbled under her breath, then hurried down the opposite stairwell toward the kitchen.

  ***

  Elizabeth glanced around the halls before entering Philip’s chambers.

  Upon seeing the water-filled cast iron tub in the center of his room, and Tyler nowhere in sight, she sighed a breath of relief. She cared deeply for Tyler and would hate to disgrace herself in his eyes.

  Quickly she closed the door behind her and made her way toward the room.

  She placed her bag down on the table and pulled out five wooden covered jars that held her herbs. Her fingers shook as she removed the covers and untied the strings that held the leather seal tightly around the glasses’ mouth.

  With no time to spare, she hurried back and forth to the tub and dumped the contents of the jars into the water.

  Muffled voices filtered in from the hall.

  Elizabeth stood motionless in the middle of the room.

  She stared at the door. Her nerves knotted. Her heart thumped wildly. She could not bear it if members of the household found her or even suspected her intentions.

  The voices faded and her heart slowed. She took a deep breath, then glanced back to the table, placed the last empty jar down and glanced around.

  This was his room. Masculine. Strong. The walls were covered with leather, the planked floor partially covered by an amber red and chestnut weaved rug.

  From a glass colored window, of blue and orange inserts, sunlight cast jeweled rays over the dark carved furnishings and heavy dark moldings. The room felt warm and comforting, like a bath full of warm water.

  Her gaze settled on the tub.

  Debating, her next move, she chewed her lower lip. There was still time to leave. She took a faulting step toward the center of the room.

  Past a small table and chair, through an opening into another room, his bed butted the wall.

  Her heart skipped a beat. She glanced away.

  What if he didn’t want her? What if she made a fool out of herself? The question hammered in her ears; a knock resounded off the door.

  She stiffened and looked toward the entranceway.

  She opened her mouth to protest, knowing he would refrain from entering then clamped her lips shut.

  Taking a deep breath, she held onto the tub to give her quivering knees support.

  Philip opened the door. The disbelief in his eyes quickly darkened with desire as she watched his tall figure strode toward her.

  “Do you need more time?” he asked, though he continued to across the room.

  “Nay.” The word sounded forced. Her fingers curled over the tub’s rim.

  Blood raced through her veins like water rushing off a cliff. Her heart pounded on the verge of eruption.

  He stepped before her and gazed candidly into her eyes.

  Imaginary fireflies danced in her stomach, spreading a warm glow.

  “Should I leave?” He leaned closer.

  Her
breath caught and she inhaled the smoky smell of tobacco on his clothes.

  She shook her head.

  He reached out and gently cupped her chin. His thumb caressed her cheek.

  She closed her eyes. Her skin prickled pleasurably.

  “You are sure?” His lips brushed against hers as he spoke.

  “I… I am a healer. Tension ran through her like a plucked fiddle’s string.

  He kissed her neck.

  Her heart jolted. “‘Twill cure what ails your…” Her mind spun. Leave, before ‘tis too late.

  His hands pressed into the small of her back as he drew her nearer.

  “Your sleepless nights,” she murmured.

  “Thoughts of you disrupt my sleep,” he murmured as he brushed his lips against her cheek. “I fear a bath will do no good.”

  The warmth of his strong arms, encircling her, kindled the desire that only a moment ago had been a tiny spark. Now that hot ache rose, flooding her limbs with a fervor that made her knees shake more intensely and her heart race.

  Leave, a tiny voice whispered from the corner of her mind.

  His kiss was slow, thoughtful, warm against her lips and she realized how much she missed the feel of him pressed up against her.

  “But I beg you stay,” he whispered in her ear. “I need you to stay.”

  She lifted her arms around his neck.

  Oh dear love, I shall stay, for I fear naught what tomorrow brings. Take my heart, my love, my body if only for this day.

  As though he read her thoughts, his mouth covered hers with a hunger that matched her own.

  Her mind reeled in the velvet softness of his lips, in the hardness of his chest pressed against her breasts and the familiar spicy smell of his being.

  He broke away, immersed his fingers through her hair and nibbled on her neck.

  Her head lobbed back. Her body tightened. Her skin tingled.

  “My beautiful, beautiful Elizabeth.” He buried his face against her throat, sighed, then once again kissed her neck.

  His kiss was like the sweet nectar of fruit, delicious to her soul. His touch inflamed her desire like a beggar starving for food.

  She opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling, at the shadows of light that danced off the brass chandelier.

  “Your lordship your bath gets cold.”

  He tilted her face down. Desire shone in the deep depths of his blue eyes. “So be it.” He held her tighter and leaned forward. His tongue darted in and out of her ear.