House of Silence
SARAH BARTHEL
KENSINGTON BOOKS
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
AUTHOR’S NOTE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2017 by Sarah Barthel
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
eISBN-13: 978-1-4967-0609-6
eISBN-10: 1-4967-0609-9
First Kensington Electronic Edition: January 2017
ISBN: 978-1-4967-0608-9
First Kensington Trade Paperback Printing: January 2017
For
Mom and Dad
PROLOGUE
May 1875
Bellevue Sanitarium, Batavia, Illinois
The shadows from my flickering candle shifted against the rose wallpaper so rhythmically that I began to question if I actually belonged in this sanitarium. No matter how grand they became, I resolutely ignored the reflections. To acknowledge them would cost me more than I was prepared to pay.
As I did every evening, I sat on my bed with a copy of Jane Eyre. In vain I hoped to find answers through Jane’s and Bertha’s unfortunate fates, but no revelations came. They were the product of unfortunate circumstances . . . perhaps I was no better.
A slight shift in the room’s color made me look up. My breath caught in my throat.
My neighbor stood in the doorway. Her silence added to the stillness until it felt as if I’d implode. Her loose, dark gray hair was stark against her pale pink nightgown. Without her hoop and mounds of skirts, she looked slight, like half a woman. Yet, her presence grasped for my attention as if she were the president himself.
Her eyes met mine and they pierced me with sympathy. I shifted my gaze to the hallway. Surely at any moment, Nurse Penny would appear to return this intruder to her room.
But no one came.
Her nightgown shifted in the slight breeze. Every few moments she twisted her head and regarded me from a different angle. The silence grated on me as much as her presence frightened me.
Perhaps I should have demonstrated my insanity by screaming and pulling on my hair, but I was so tired of pretending. Besides, something about this woman told me that my act wouldn’t fool her.
After what felt like ages, she stepped over the threshold and into my room. Her stride was careful and deliberate. Her movements showed her age more than the gray in her hair did. She was old beyond her years.
“Speak to me, child,” she commanded.
I clutched the book to my chest as if it could shield me from my troubles. Even though she’d already attacked me once, I wanted her to like me.
“We all have our reasons for silence. Yours will end.” Her words made my heart race.
She didn’t know why I was here or why I remained mute, but she showed more empathy than Dr. Patterson had. Despite this, her kindness chilled me. I couldn’t allow myself to trust anyone. Trusting Gregory was how I got into this predicament. I refused to make the same mistake twice.
“If you need anything, you come see me. Dr. Patterson told me to watch out for you, and I intend to do my best. Understand?”
Unable to respond any other way, I nodded.
She tilted her head and read the title of my book. A smile pulled at her mouth. “Jane Eyre. There ought to be more heroines like her. She shaped her own destiny and let no man decide for her.” She smoothed a wrinkle out of my bedspread.
My mouth dropped open at her declaration. So many friends didn’t understand my attraction to Jane’s character. This woman, older than my mother, was a true kindred spirit. A bit of my determination crumbled.
She must have noticed my warming to her for she demanded, “Make room,” and sat beside me. I pulled my legs to my chest.
She took the book from my hand and flipped back to the beginning and read aloud, “‘There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed. . . .’”
Thus my friendship with Mary Lincoln began.
CHAPTER I
March 1875
Oak Park, Illinois
It wasn’t fair that before my engagement party began, I was faced with choosing between my fiancé and my best friend. As I stood looking down at the crowd forming in the Town Hall’s entryway, my stomach rolled uneasily. At that very moment, Lucy, my best friend, was secretly marrying her love. Her logic made sense: With everyone celebrating at my party, she and Patrick would have no trouble sneaking a few towns over and pledging their lives to one another. Patrick was leaving for Montana in a few days, and they needed to be sure Lucy couldn’t be married off by her parents while he was gone. Which was wise, as Lucy’s mother was busy mingling with a variety of eligible gentlemen. The moment Patrick was out of the picture, she was prepared to pounce.
We were both being wise to secure the lives we wanted. My Gregory was the man I had always imagined marrying: charismatic, smart, and handsome. We would create a wonderful life together. I had put a lot of thought into my decision. Lucy had too, only her thoughts were more of love than practicalities. For example, how would her secret wedding impact our friendship? Gregory wanted to pursue politics, which was the main reason I accepted his proposal, but having close friends who eloped could ruin his chances for a nomination, let alone victory.
But, I could no sooner give up Lucy than I could give up air. It didn’t matter what crazy thing she decided to do. I’d support her through it just as she would me. Through a slit in the balcony’s curtain I examined the crowd and located her parents. Mrs. D’Havland wore a blue satin gown cut to the peak of fashion. However stubborn the D’Havlands were, they had impeccable taste. As I spied on her, she gestured toward the entrance and invited someone to join them. I waited for their guest to emerge into the crowd and sharply inhaled. Those bouncing blond ringlets gave her away before I saw her face. Lucy! What was she doing here?
/> I dropped the curtain and began pacing the small room. What had gone wrong? Lucy should be saying her vows, not celebrating my engagement! It was at such moments I missed Papa. The emptiness his death created left me breathless. Mother had fretted over our year of mourning, as I was without suitors when Father passed. No matter her argument, I refused to shorten my grief. If I had, I wouldn’t be standing here celebrating my engagement to Gregory. I smiled. Father would’ve liked my choice in husband. Had the fever not taken him, he’d have probably found a way for Lucy’s family to accept Patrick as well. The lining of my gloves scratched against my fingertips. I yanked them off.
Behind me the door opened, flooding light into the room. Mother glided toward me, her gown skimming the floor. I had never mastered her gracefulness. She stopped when she saw my gloves.
“They’re about to announce you. Why aren’t you ready?”
Leave it to Mother to turn what could’ve been a meaningful moment into one of ridicule. Of course, it must be some huge personal flaw that left me without gloves.
I pulled them back on and buttoned them closed at the wrist. “I’m ready,” I insisted.
Whether I was or not, the curtain pulled open and I stood before everyone. My dark purple gown had been selected not only because it highlighted my brown hair and eyes, but because it popped against the light green curtains and cream walls. Mother also insisted that purple would convey a regal tone to all who saw Gregory and me. Personally, I was happy with the gown more so because the alternative was an amber monstrosity. Thank goodness for small favors.
“May I present Oak Park’s own Isabelle Larkin and her fiancé, Gregory Gallagher.” Uncle Walter’s announcement made me catch my breath. The importance of this moment overwhelmed me. I was claiming Gregory as my own, forever. I’d never been shy, but I’d never made this kind of commitment before. I was stuck in place.
Gregory appeared beside me as if from nowhere. Taking my arm in his, he escorted me down the stairs as if it were the most natural thing in the world. To him, no doubt, it was. His blond hair put me in mind of a greased turkey, but I didn’t let it show upon my face. He was the one who asked Mother for advice on men’s hairstyles. As he met my eyes, his mustache twitched as he struggled to avoid a smile. True to form, he held to propriety and said nothing, but looked out over our guests. I followed his lead.
The moment we touched the marble floor, he led me to the center of the dance floor and grasped me in his arms. His hand was firm against my back as he prepared to lead me. The confidence in his grasp put butterflies in my stomach. We were the couple of the moment and he would make us shine. I lifted my skirt with my left hand as the band took their cue and began a waltz.
All worry for Lucy evaporated from my mind as he whispered in my ear, “Let us make all lovers jealous with this dance.”
Before I could reply we were twirling around the ballroom. Never before had such a smart-looking couple danced so gracefully. Ours would be a profitable marriage, for he had good instincts and I followed him well.
The music gave a final swell and then faded out. I pulled my eyes from Gregory’s and glanced around at the circle of friends that had formed around us. Their applause roared in my ears. In the front, mere steps from us, Senator Quincy’s wife whispered something to her husband as she gestured toward us. Mother stood beside them and gave me a pointed look.
“Kiss me,” I insisted.
Gregory grinned down at me. His breath tickled my ear as he whispered, “That may take the point a bit far. Your mother is already eyeing us.” I smiled despite myself. I knew these people better than he and tonight I’d draw the line of decorum.
“You have won my affection. Now it is time we capture the hearts of everyone else. Kiss me.”
His lips pressed against mine so quickly I didn’t have to mimic my surprise. I gasped as he pulled me close to him and purposefully melted my body against his. No doubt, to our guests we seemed ardent in our mutual affection, but I was too focused on appearing blissful to actually feel anything.
Gregory pulled away as quickly as he began. “She is a vision of beauty. I couldn’t help myself,” he announced as everyone clapped.
I had demanded his embrace, and still my face felt warm with embarrassment. Mother’s friends were surely taken up in Gregory’s desire of me and the romance of it all. Every family in town courted Gregory when he arrived and yet he chose me, a girl of twenty who was still mourning the loss of her father. Not only did he ignore other women, but he waited to call upon us until the mourning year had passed. I know those who lost men in the war noted his patience and would remember it. Slowly, we were gaining respect and status. I glimpsed at Mrs. Quincy’s wet eyes and broad smile and knew my trick had paid off.
Mother strode to our side, hushing the crowd. “I know your father would’ve joined me in wishing you every happiness, Isabelle.” It should’ve been Papa who spoke. For a moment, I thought I saw the same loss cross over her face, for she flushed and looked around as if he might appear and speak. Composing herself, she opened her mouth to continue, but was interrupted.
“Darling niece,” Uncle Walter declared. “May your loveliness shine joy upon you both for years to come.”
“As I’ve no living family to speak for me, I humbly thank you for welcoming me into your community and allowing me to meet this beautiful creature.” Gregory pulled me to his side.
“Isabelle, you are a woman of class and integrity. I only hope that one day I can claim to honestly deserve you. Until then, I shall do all I can to make you happy.”
Gregory’s cheeks flushed as he kissed my hand. Ladies around us sighed, but for once, I didn’t observe whose heart he’d inspired. I was too moved by the flutter of emotion inside myself to bother.
The orchestra struck up a new song and the floor around us quickly filled with couples and well-wishers.
“There are several gentlemen I’d like you to meet, Gregory,” Uncle Walter said, glancing toward a group of men across the room, including the president of our bank, our local congressman, and several others. Gregory’s eyes lit up. I was not so naïve as to ignore the influence Uncle Walter’s connections would have upon Gregory. Having a family member who was already in Washington would make our ambitions much easier to achieve.
“That is the point of this gathering.” Then, turning to me, he added, “Besides celebrating our engagement.”
Someone jostled my back. “Of course. Uncle Walter, take care of him.”
The two men laughed at my words.
“Join us?” Gregory tugged my arm gently.
Tempting as listening to Uncle Walter’s friends was, there were other people with whom I needed to visit.
Glancing around the room, I spied Lucy standing alone beside the tall stained glass window. “I think I’ll let you go uncover the secrets of Washington society. Lucy is waiting for me.”
Uncle Walter nodded. “Mr. Melton has some horse-breeding questions.”
Gregory laughed. “I’ll answer what I can. You know my folks died before I was old enough to learn much of the business, but any Kentuckian worth his salt has some horse-breeding knowledge. I think we are born with it.”
“No one would ask for more than that.” Uncle Walter clapped Gregory on the back and turned him toward the waiting circle of gentlemen.
Letting himself be led, Gregory glanced over his shoulder and promised, “I’ll find you soon.”
Once he was gone, I hurried across the dance floor to where I last saw Lucy. A few of the couples paused to wish me well, but I merely nodded. Lucy waited for me beside the rose garland and I refused to be waylaid.
Up close I could see the disappointment radiating off her. Doubtless no one else noticed how her handkerchief wasn’t exactly folded in her hand or that her smile pinched her cheeks.
“I didn’t think you’d be here,” I blurted out as I took her hands in mine.
Lucy raised her finger to her lips, urging me to be quiet. “Patrick’s mot
her is ill and he needed to leave immediately to be with her.” She turned toward the window, where no one could watch us speak. “Now, I’ve nothing to prevent Mother from marrying me off.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “She’s already invited Mr. Stewart over for dinner next week.”
“Surely Patrick will return soon and you will wed. He’d not part with you for a moment longer than necessary.” I squeezed her hand.
“You don’t understand, Isabelle. Your mother loves Gregory. If you didn’t marry him, she’d probably do so herself. But Patrick is tainted by his father’s treason. So long as he remains here, that act will taint his life.” She paused, then met my eyes and continued. “Once he has a home and land, I plan to follow him west.”
“What?! No!” The words flew out of my mouth without caution. “I cannot imagine setting up house or raising children without you next door. Do you even know what you speak of? There are savages in the west who would sooner skin you than look at you. You can’t be serious.”
“I will not survive without him.” Lucy’s voice was soft, but firm. “You chose Gregory because his dreams match your own. Never have you mentioned love. I accept that is your choice. Now, please accept mine. I love Patrick and will make whatever sacrifice I must to maintain that love.”
Her shoulders squared as if she braced for some kind of impact, but I couldn’t yell at her. She had what everyone wishes for—the love of a good man. I’d not make her feel guilty for it.
“I hope Patrick knows how lucky he is to have you.” I pulled her into a hug.
“Oh, Izzy! Thank you. I was so worried you’d be angry. This is such a relief.”
Behind us, the orchestra struck a new tune. In the corner of my eye, couples switched partners and prepared for the polka.
“Lucy, I could never stay mad at you.” I paused, struggling with how much honesty I owed her. “You are my best friend. The last thing I want is for you to leave, but I can respect your choice.”
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