by Karen White
He shook his head and approached me again. “No, you are not Elizabeth. You are much too good and too beautiful. I suppose it was too much to hope for that you might feel the same affection for me.”
“Daniel, you have been a good friend. I am sorry if any of my actions or anything I have said might have led you to believe that my feelings went further than friendship. I am flattered, certainly, that a man such as you would hold me in such high regard. But you are married, as am I, and I am only in need of your friendship now.”
He took a deep breath and regarded me with soft gray eyes. “I apologize if I have offended you. I am afraid that I have spoken out of turn. It was wrong of me to confess my feelings, knowing that your honor would never allow you to feel the same way about me.”
I saw the way his golden hair shimmered in the bright light of the afternoon sun streaming in from the windows. “I am not my sister,” I said again.
“No, you are not, and I have been wrong to think otherwise.” He started to turn away but stopped, his expression that of a man intent on finding the absolution of confession. “Remember when I told you that I married Clara because it was love at first sight? I lied. I had seen Elizabeth on my visit with John and I could not leave. So I married Clara to be near your sister. I am so ashamed. My only hope is that you can find it in your generous heart to forgive me.”
“Why are you telling me all this now?”
“Because I have been carrying the burden of my secret around for so long. And your forgiveness would be a balm to my soul.”
I looked at him wearily. “It is not from me you need to beg forgiveness, but your wife. She loves you so. And from John.”
A flash of anger momentarily crossed his fine features. “I owe nothing to John.”
I looked down at the sleeping child, her spun-gold hair shimmering against the whiteness of her pillow. “I beg to differ.”
His gaze followed mine, but his expression remained blank. “I did not steal his wife’s affections, if that is to what you are referring. She kept those all to herself.”
I swallowed, as if digesting his words. “So you are telling me that she never returned your feelings?”
A slow breath escaped him, like the last sigh of a dying man. “No.”
I felt relief for a moment in the knowledge that Daniel’s infatuation with Elizabeth had remained chaste. Rebecca stirred, and we watched her in silence for a moment. Then who is your father, sweet child? Was it somebody your mother truly loved? In my heart of hearts, I wished for it to be true. The thought of a cold and indifferent Elizabeth finding death without it was too hard to bear.
I lifted my eyes to find Daniel watching me intently. I did not look away. “But you did betray your friendship with John, if only with your feelings for his wife.”
His lips curled into a grimace. “It was his own fault. He could not make Elizabeth happy, and he gave up trying. He drove her to take her own life. And I see how John has already dimmed your spirit and I fear for you, too.”
I turned away, not wanting him to read the secret in my eyes.
“If you are unhappy, let me take you away from here. As your friend, let me help you.”
I looked back at him to refuse, but he must have seen something in my face, for he stopped suddenly. “You have already made plans to leave, have you not?”
I started to shake my head, to deny it, but the weight of my secret longed to be lightened. “It is not what you think, Daniel. I am not going with another man. I simply need . . . to get away.”
His face colored. “Has he hurt you in any way?”
I turned away to face the window. “No. But I have reason to believe that he is a dangerous man.”
“Because of Philip?”
I nodded. “And Elizabeth. Did you know she was leaving John when she died? I think she might have been going with Philip, and now he is dead, too.”
He looked ashen but kept his gaze steadily on me. “Why do you think it was Philip?”
I closed my eyes tightly for a moment, trying to erase the picture of Philip floating facedown in the pond. “I do not think either one of them tried to keep their affair secret. John certainly knew.”
His voice was almost a whisper. “And then she was found dead.” He shook his head. “I had no doubts when John said it was suicide. Her mental health had always been frail at best, although she kept it hidden from most. I thought I could save her from her inner torment, but my love was never enough for her. Nothing ever was.” Defeat and desolation crowded his words, but I could feel little sympathy for him. “And now you are telling me that John . . .”
I rested my hand on his arm. “I have nothing but suspicion. But I do not feel safe here.”
Solemn gray eyes bored into mine. “Let me do the right thing for a change. Let me help you. I will fight to bring John to justice, but first I need to see you safe.”
“How can I trust you, Daniel? You have deceived your wife and your closest friend. How could I be sure that you would not betray me?”
His shoulders slumped in an attitude of defeat. “I need to redeem my soul and this is my last chance. I could never hope for forgiveness from Clara, and it is already too late for Elizabeth. You are my last chance to save me from this dark hell that chases me night and day.”
My resolve weakened as I stared at this man whom my sister had destroyed. I did believe I could trust him, but I still had other doubts. “Judge Patterson has already offered his help.”
He took a step forward. “But the judge is old and feeble. What if John finds out and pursues you? Do you really think the judge is strong enough to protect you and Rebecca from John’s fury?”
I looked at Rebecca again, sleeping peacefully with her doll securely tucked under her arm. Daniel was right. The judge would be no match against John, and I would not put an innocent man in the path of John’s wrath. Daniel was eager and willing to do so and, perhaps, find his own forgiveness. Pressing back golden hair from Rebecca’s face, I rationalized that she might not be as frightened on our journey if she had the doctor with her in the beginning.
Slowly, I nodded. “You must swear you will not tell anyone.”
He agreed and I knew I could trust him.
“In two days’ time, when they light the bonfires out on the levee, I will need a carriage to take me to New Orleans. I was planning to take one of John’s but if he finds it missing, it will be easier for him to search for us.”
“Us?”
“Yes. I am taking Rebecca with me.”
His features tightened for a brief moment but he said nothing.
“She is not safe here.” I reached for his hand and squeezed it. “I was hoping you could tell me that she would be well enough to travel now.”
“Yes. She is almost completely recovered.”
“Good. If you can get us to New Orleans, I have enough funds to hire a coach to take me to Brunswick. Could you do that without arousing suspicion?”
A dreaded calm seemed to settle on him. “Yes. I will find a way.”
“And if John finds out that you helped me?”
With a determined shift of his head, he said, “He has more to fear from me. From what you have told me, I now have information that implicates him in Elizabeth’s death.”
He stopped to pick up his bag, and I grabbed his arm. “Please tell me that John was not always like that. I still see so much good in him.” I choked on a sob.
“Elizabeth changed him—she changed us both. It was for her I betrayed both my best friend and my wife, and I doubt I will ever find forgiveness from either, regardless of who John has become.” His eyes were looking inside himself, into the deepest reaches of his heart, and what he saw there saddened me. “But being with Elizabeth, nothing else seemed to matter.”
With shoulders stooped with defeat, he faced me. “I will send a message t
o you as to when and where to meet me. Have everything ready before the bonfire so we will not be delayed.”
“Thank you, Daniel. I will be ready.”
He nodded and placed his hat on his head, then left the room.
I sat on the side of Rebecca’s bed and watched her sleep. Besides the hair, I saw little else to remind me of Daniel, and I was relieved that at least John had not suspected as much.
The back of my neck prickled and I sat up. A slight scratching sounded from what I thought was the wall, as if a fingernail were being slid along the plaster. I bounded off the bed and ran to the deserted corridor.
“Mary? Delphine? Is anybody there?”
There was no answer.
I sped down the stairs to the empty foyer and called out again.
As I stood listening to the deserted house around me, I looked into the old mirror, noting again the irregularities in the glass. I moved to stand in front of it, noticing how distorted my reflection appeared. With a sad grimace, I turned away, thinking how accurate the mirror’s portrayal of me was.
* * *
John returned from New Orleans on Christmas Eve, in time for the festivities. I was in the library, reading, when I heard the carriage, but I did not go into the foyer to greet him.
I heard Delphine tell him where I was, and he soon joined me, his presence filling the room and drawing me to him before I even looked up from the pages of my book. Having him so near still affected me in ways I could not control, regardless of what I knew of him.
Several parcels tottered in his outstretched arms and he knelt on the floor beside me, letting the packages slide to the ground. A boyish grin lit his face, making my mouth go dry, and I had to look away.
“I have been shopping,” he said unnecessarily.
“I can see that.”
He lifted the lid from a small hatbox and pulled out a miniature rabbit-fur hat and muff. “I thought Rebecca might like this.”
I nodded, finding it not too difficult to put a smile on my face. His enthusiasm was contagious.
“And this,” he said, pulling a slim box from his pocket, “is for you. You can have it now or wait until tomorrow.”
I almost said to wait, but instead I closed my book and held out my hand. Something mercenary in me realized that if it were valuable jewelry, I could sell it and use the funds for survival once we reached Brunswick. Slowly, I opened the box and gasped. Two beautiful teardrop earbobs rested on black velvet, each large round-cut diamond as big as a thumbnail.
“A diamond for each of our children. I hope to someday give you a necklace full of diamonds.”
I felt hot and clammy, the taste of bile thick in my mouth. What game are you playing? I wanted to ask him. These are not the words of a man who doubts his wife’s fidelity. The mixed emotions of betrayal, regret, wanting, and loss coursed through me, leaving me empty and shaking.
“Are you ill?” The note of concern in his voice was unmistakable.
“I am fine. It must have been something I ate.” I managed a smile. “These are beautiful. Thank you.”
He moved to kiss me but I turned away. He kept his head lowered, his breath brushing my neck but not speaking. Then, unable to stop myself, I leaned into him and placed my lips against his cheek like the kiss of Judas. I held my face close to his for several heartbeats, smelling his intoxicating scent and my mind reeling at his nearness, then pulled back.
His dark eyes searched mine. “You are welcome,” he said, before pulling away and standing. “The bonfires will be lit at dusk. I suggest you and Rebecca get ready so we can leave.”
“Yes. Of course.” I managed to stand on unsteady legs before leaving the room, feeling his brooding eyes on my back as I walked away.
* * *
The blazing lights of bonfires along the levee stretched as far down the river as I could see. The pyramid-shaped wooden log structures towered in the night sky, flames licking upward toward the stars perched on top, an almost-pagan ritual to welcome the birth of the Christ child.
Stalks of sugarcane had been piled on top of the wood, creating a rapid succession of shotlike sounds as the steam expanded inside the stalks, causing them to explode. Smoke rose from the tops of the pyramids like the wispy spirits of those no longer with us, their cloudlike arms stretching heavenward.
I kept Rebecca close to me, afraid to get separated in the crowd. John stayed at our side, his presence worrying me. I would have to find a good enough excuse to leave with Rebecca when the time came.
The smells of roasting pork and burning sugarcane thickened the chilly air, but I could not find my appetite. I made sure Rebecca ate, not knowing when we would have the chance to stop and eat again. For appearances, I accepted a tin plate heaped with food, although I barely managed to force down more than crumbled corn bread.
John stopped to speak with a cluster of men from neighboring plantations, and I turned quickly to disappear with Rebecca into the crowd. A hand grabbed at my arm and I twisted around in fear, keeping Rebecca behind my skirts. I let out my breath in relief when I saw it was Rose.
She leaned close to me to be heard over the noise of the people and the bonfire. “I sprinkled them eggshells over Master Philip’s grave. The man who done kilt him be revealed. My signs say it be tonight.”
Rebecca pulled at my skirts, diverting my attention. “Mama, can I have some saltwater taffy? I promise I will not be messy.”
I answered her question, and when I turned back to Rose, she had gone.
Clutching Rebecca’s hand tightly, I began to weave in and out of the crowd, hoping to make it difficult for John to spot us. Because of his height, I had no problems locating him and made sure I stayed far away from him.
I patted the bulge in my skirt pocket, taking comfort in the coins in the leather pouch. Judge Patterson had sold my necklace in New Orleans for a very large sum and had visited Whispering Oaks as promised the previous week to give me the proceeds.
I spotted Rose again and approached her, my question about her words ready on my tongue. As I stood in front of her, her gaze fell behind me, her eyes wide with fear. Pushing Rebecca behind me again, I turned to stand face-to-face with Marguerite.
Straightening my back, I said, “You are not welcome here. Surely Belle Meade has their own bonfire.”
Her green eyes smoldered in the light from the fire, making them seem to flicker with their own internal flame. “Dr. Lewiston sent me with a message for you. He is waiting for you at Belle Meade in his office behind the house. He says you will know what it is about.”
I stared at her for a long moment, wondering why Daniel would have thought to trust her to deliver the message.
As if reading my mind, she said, “He trusts me not to speak of this to anyone else.” She narrowed her eyes. “He says your husband is too suspicious, which is why the doctor did not come tonight. He did not want to draw attention to you or to him. He says it is best if you leave tonight from Belle Meade. Take your horse, and he will make arrangements to return her before anyone notices she is gone.”
I looked at her closely, to see if I could determine how much she really knew about our plans. But her face was inscrutable, the only movement that of her flickering green eyes. “But why would he send you? He could have given anybody a note.”
She grinned in the firelight, her eyes receding into shadows. “Because he knew that if John saw us talking, he would never suspect that I was here to help you.”
I thought for a long moment. Everything she had said made sense, although I still had misgivings. But if she knew of our plans, Daniel must have trusted her enough to tell her. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to think, and when I opened them I knew. This could be my one chance to escape, and I owed it to Rebecca and my unborn child to do whatever was necessary.
“All right,” I said, keeping Rebecca behind me. “I will go to him.�
�� I took a few steps back to separate us, then turned toward the house.
We walked quickly through the grass, one hand clutching Rebecca’s and my other holding up my skirts so I could go faster. “I have a surprise for you,” I said to the child running at my side.
“A surprise?” Her eyes widened with excitement.
“Yes. We are going on a journey. Just you and me.”
Her face fell. “But what about Papa? Will he not be lonely?”
I swallowed the lump rising in my throat. “He will miss you, but he will be keeping busy with business matters. He will want you to have fun, though. And Dr. Lewiston will be with us for a little while.”
She nodded but did not say anything else, her young mind seemingly immersed in thought.
We ran into the house and grabbed the satchel I had packed for the journey, then raced out the back door toward the stables. Jezebel greeted me with a soft whinny as I set about saddling her in the semidarkness. Finally, I reached for Rebecca and hoisted her onto the horse, then climbed up behind her. With a gentle kick on Jezebel’s flank, we left the stables, circled around the house, and headed toward Belle Meade.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The breeze off the Mississippi picked up, lifting my cape and rustling the leaves beneath us like old voices. I stayed far away from the levee until I was certain we would not be seen by any of the people from Whispering Oaks, then climbed the levee road. The bonfires lit my way, and I kept the hood over my face and my cloak wrapped around Rebecca to keep us hidden. I did not once look back—whether to test my resolve or because I had no desire to see it again, I could not say. Perhaps it was a mixture of both.
I slowed as we approached the lane leading to Belle Meade. No lamps were lit within the house, nor were torches blazing on the outside of the house and grounds. The windows were dark indentations on the faded white of the house, and the front doorway gaped darkly like an open mouth, lending it the appearance of an empty skull. I shivered, gooseflesh rippling up my arms, and hugged Rebecca close to me.
