The Lightkeeper's Ball

by Colleen Coble

  “She seems very nice, but you can smell the sickness here.”

  Katie nodded and put her handkerchief to her nose. Her face was pale. “I shall have to wait on the porch. I’m feeling a bit poorly.”

  “Oh my dear, do you want me to come with you?” Addie asked.

  “I just need some fresh air.”

  “Edward can play. I’ll come with you.” Addie patted Olivia’s hand. “You’ll be fine. Harrison will take good care of you.”

  Her lungs squeezed. “I want to go home,” she begged. “Please. I’m fine.”

  Addie glanced from her to the doorway where Katie had gone. “Let me check on Katie. I’ll arrange for a car to get us. You can go home very soon.”

  Nann Whittaker stepped out of the exam room. “We’re ready for you, Lady Devonworth.”

  “Really, I don’t want to trouble the doctor,” she protested as the woman led her to the examining room and helped her sit. “It’s merely a sprain. Rest and ice are all I need.” She started to slide from the table, but Harrison seized her arm.

  “You’ll be home soon enough. The doctor will be here in a moment,” he said. His hand touched her back, and he cradled her head to his chest.

  She could hear the thump-thump of his heart against her ear. Something about his touch drained the pain from her wrist.

  “It won’t hurt to have the doctor take a look,” he said.

  Her teeth began to chatter. Was it from the pain? “I’m cold,” she said.

  Harrison released her a moment. He shucked his flannel shirt, revealing a white undershirt beneath it. He placed the warm flannel around Olivia’s shoulders. “Better?”

  The flannel encased Olivia and the warmth that lingered from his body seeped into her skin. She nodded as the shaking began to subside. “Thank you,” she whispered, clutching the edges of the shirt to her throat. His manly scent lingered in the cloth and calmed her.

  “Here’s the doctor now,” he said, stepping back after a final embrace.

  Olivia glanced up to see a gray-haired gentleman with erect shoulders step into the room. He had a stethoscope around his neck, and his necktie was askew. But his kindly expression did much to calm the last of her jitters. A woman in her fifties with a kind face and graying hair in a bun was on his heels.

  “A slight accident, I see?” He stepped to the examination table and took Olivia’s arm in his warm hands.

  She winced when his fingers probed the swollen flesh of her wrist. “I fell.”

  He nodded and continued to press on her wrist and arm. “No real harm done. It’s a severe sprain though, and you need to rest it for at least three days. I’m going to send some powder home with you for the pain. Keep ice on it and keep it elevated on a pillow. I’ll stop and check on you tomorrow. Where might I find you?”

  “This is Lady Devonworth,” Harrison put in. “She’s staying at Stewart Hall.”

  The doctor turned to his nurse. “Mrs. Fosberg, would you fetch some pain powder? I’ll write out instructions on its use.”

  As the woman hurried from the room, Olivia stared after her. Fosberg? Could she be related to the Frederick Fosberg who had danced so often with Eleanor? Surely Fosberg was a very common name, especially in this area so settled with those of Scandinavian descent.

  It seemed an eternity before the older woman came back with a bag of white powder in her hand. Olivia accepted it with a smile. “Mrs. Fosberg, I’ve heard your last name before in connection with a young man by the name of Frederick. Is he any relation?”

  The woman’s smile broadened and she stood taller. “That would be my boy. I’m so proud of him. He worked his way through college to become a well-respected barrister in the city. How did you hear of him?”

  “I mentioned that I was in need of an attorney, and he was recommended.”

  “You couldn’t go wrong with hiring my boy. He has his own office in San Francisco. After the Great Earthquake, he kept right on working when the other barristers abandoned the city. He’s brave, that one. Handsome too. He’s due to town in two days. Shall I have him call on you?”

  “Please do. I have much to discuss with him.” It would be a better way to find out about him than at Mrs. Bennett’s dinner party. And she’d start by finding out what the young man’s relationship had been with her sister.

  FOURTEEN

  HARRISON TOOK THE bumps as lightly as possible, but the woman beside him still winced when they hit the unavoidable potholes. He breathed a sigh of relief when Stewart Hall came into sight. He let the dog out on his side and told him to stay.

  He parked the automobile by the front door. “Don’t forget your blasted cat.” He deposited the kitten in her good arm.

  “I very much appreciate your kindness in making sure I got home,” Lady Devonworth said. The cat meowed and she gasped, holding it out from her. “It’s got sharp claws. It’s going to ruin my dress.”

  “Give it to me.” He grabbed the kitten and stuck it inside his undershirt. “Stupid cat,” he muttered.

  A young woman with a white apron over her black dress opened the door. “Poor Lady Devonworth,” she said. “I have your bed turned down and ready.”

  “I really don’t want to take to my bed. It’s barely three,” she protested. “Goldia, show us to parlor.”

  Harrison shook his head. “The doctor said to keep your arm elevated on a pillow. Besides, you’ve had a shock and need to rest. Show me her room, Goldia.”

  The maid glanced at her mistress, then scurried up the stairs. He ignored Lady Devonworth’s objections and propelled her up the sweeping staircase. The maid gestured to him from a door halfway down the wide hall decorated with gold foil. “This is Miss Olivia’s bedroom,” he said.

  Lady Devonworth stopped and stared up at him. “How would you know such a thing?” she whispered.

  Her face paled, and he realized how his remark had sounded. “Please don’t misunderstand. At Eleanor’s last party, she showed her guests around the mansion and remarked that no one was allowed to stay in this room except her sister. Eleanor said she’d had it decorated to Olivia’s tastes and was eager to see how her sister liked it.”

  “I see.” The woman’s voice seemed choked.

  Were those tears in Lady Devonworth’s eyes? He led her to the bed and stepped back. She was most decidedly pale and shaken. “Are you in pain?”

  She glanced away and straightened her skirt. “A bit, yes. I shall have Goldia prepare me a pain draught.”

  She started to remove his flannel shirt, but he put his hand on her arm and shook his head. “Keep it until your maid helps you change into something warmer. I’ll get it later.”

  She stopped and hugged the shirt close again. “Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Bennett.”

  He bowed. “I’m happy to be of assistance, Lady Devonworth. If you are in need of me at any time, ring me and I will be here in minutes.”

  “You’re too kind,” she said, not looking at him.

  He studied her a moment before backing out of the room and taking his leave. Her manner had changed most abruptly when he mentioned she was in Olivia’s room. Perhaps it was the pain in her wrist. What else could it be? He strode down the hall to the stairs. At the top of the steps, he hesitated when he heard Goldia call his name.

  She was huffing by the time she reached him. “Mr. Bennett, sir.”

  “Is she all right, Goldia?”

  Her hazel eyes narrowed. “She wants that kitten.”

  He’d forgotten he still had the blasted cat tucked into his shirt. He yanked the cat out into the light of day. It yowled its misery to the world and tried to claw its way back inside his shirt. He hastily handed it to the maid.

  Goldia curtsied. “Thank you, sir. Miss, uh, Lady Devonworth was most upset at the thought that she wouldn’t have the kitten in her possession.”

  He watched her scurry back down the hall with the cat nestled against her. He found to his dismay that he really didn’t want to leave.

  C
radling the kitten, Olivia fell back against the pillow. Her eyes burned, and she gulped back the sob building in her throat. Eleanor had decorated this room for her and she hadn’t known it. She glanced around the lavishly appointed bedroom. The silk, blue and white with touches of palest yellow, had spoken to her the moment she’d taken stock of her surroundings. No wonder. Eleanor had known exactly what Olivia would like.

  Goldia touched her hand. “Miss Olivia?”

  Olivia didn’t have the heart to remind her to call her Lady Devonworth. “I’m all right, Goldia. Just shaken up. Could you fetch me some tea?”

  “Yes, ma’am, but I wanted to tell you I found this while you were out.” Her hand went to her pocket and she held up a letter addressed to Eleanor. “I recognized your daddy’s handwriting. I think this is what we’ve been searching for.”

  Olivia stared at the thin envelope in her maid’s hand. Even from here, the familiar loop of the letter J made her pulse leap. Her hand shook as she reached for it. The paper felt fragile in her fingers. She slipped the letter from the envelope. It wasn’t her father’s usual thick vellum but a cheap, coarse paper. No monogram, just plain paper. She unfolded it and began to read.

  Dear Eleanor,

  I know this letter will come as a distinct shock to your sensibilities, as you have believed me dead for six months. Through no fault of Bennett’s, I’m very much alive. Take every precaution against him. Avoid him at all costs. His son as well. You must break off the engagement immediately and return home. But take care, daughter! Surround yourself with those you can trust. Make sure you are on guard every moment. I fear for your life. I am nearby and I shall be in touch. In the meantime, depart from Mercy Falls immediately!

  Your Loving Father

  Olivia stared at the date at the top of the letter. A mere month before Eleanor died. Eleanor hadn’t run from town soon enough. She must have been reeling from the shock of realizing her father was alive. Or had been, a month ago. Where was he? According to the letter, he was nearby. But where?

  “Miss Olivia?” Goldia said. “You’re scaring me. What’s the letter say?”

  “You didn’t read it?”

  “Of course not, miss. Weren’t my place to read it. Besides, it’s hard for me.”

  Olivia studied her maid’s face. Did she dare tell Goldia the contents of the letter? Goldia had been with her since Olivia was twelve. If she wasn’t trustworthy, who was? “It’s from my father,” she said.

  “I was right!” Goldia smiled and clapped her hands.

  “He’s alive. He warned Eleanor to leave town. He said that Mr. Bennett had something to do with the circumstances and is dangerous.”

  Goldia’s smile faded. “What about Mr. Harrison?”

  Olivia hadn’t wanted to think about Harrison. “Father says he’s dangerous as well.”

  Goldia shuddered. “Handsome men sometime are.”

  “Father told Eleanor to avoid him and to break off her engagement. He must have had a good reason for such a drastic order.”

  An inner warning sounded at her father’s lack of clear explanation, and she realized she didn’t want to believe Harrison could be guilty of any devious behavior. Something in her rebelled at her father’s autocratic orders as well. She’d spent her whole life trying to make up for the fact that she wasn’t the son he wanted, and she realized she was tired of being treated as a lesser human being.

  Goldia clasped her hands together. “Maybe he was mistaken. Did the letter say why he hasn’t let your mama and you know that he was alive?”

  Olivia inhaled as if that would stop the pain that swept over her. “He didn’t mention me or my mother.” What possible reason could he have for cutting them off so completely? Hadn’t he realized how devastated they were by the news of his death? Her memories of her father were conflicted. She adored him, but he seldom noticed her.

  She had to notify her mother at once. “I need to place a telephone call,” she said.

  “The only telephone on this floor is in the big bedroom at the end of the hall. Where your sister stayed.”

  Olivia swung her legs to the side of the bed, dislodging the kitten, who gave a protesting yowl. Her wrist throbbed at the movement, and she held it in the air with her other hand as she followed Goldia to their destination. She collapsed into a chair by the bed next to the stand that held the telephone.

  “I could use that tea now, Goldia,” she said. In truth, she wanted to be alone for this conversation. Once her maid nodded and scurried down the hall, Olivia lifted the receiver and rang for central. She gave the number to the friendly-sounding woman on the other end and waited. A transcontinental call took longer than local connections.

  “Ringing now, Lady Devonworth,” the operator said.

  Olivia’s fingers tightened on the earpiece, and she pressed it tightly against her head. Her mother was bound to be overcome by the news. When the operator didn’t answer, she relaxed. And what if the operator listened in? “Hello?” she asked cautiously.

  “Stewart residence,” the housekeeper said.

  “Iola, it’s Olivia. I’d like to speak to my mother, please.”

  “Oh, Miss Olivia! I’m so relieved to hear your voice. I will fetch your mother straightaway.”

  Olivia waited through a clunk and much fumbling on the other end of the line. Even after several years of answering the phone, Iola was still uncomfortable with the instrument.

  Her mother came on the line. “Olivia, is that you?”

  “Yes, it’s me.”

  “I expected you to call before now. Have you met with Harrison?”

  Olivia suppressed a sigh. All her mother cared about was marrying Olivia off to money. “Yes, but he doesn’t know I’m Olivia Stewart.”

  “What?”

  “I’m using my proper title of Lady Devonworth. I wanted time to get to know him with no expectations.”

  Her mother tut-tutted. “You’re behaving in a ridiculous manner. How will he know if you suit if he’s not thinking of a future alliance?”

  “I’m trying to find out what happened to Eleanor.”

  “She drowned, Olivia. That’s it. You can’t bring her back. I miss her too, but we must look to the future. I suspected you would need my assistance. I’m making arrangements for a train now. I should be there by week’s end.”

  “I thought you were going to spend the season with Mrs. Astor.”

  “So did I, but in spite of my hints, I never received an invitation. I suspect she’s heard whispers of our financial situation. Which is why it is all the more imperative that you make a suitable marriage. I suspect she is no longer willing to introduce you to her friend either. This may be your last chance, Olivia.”

  “Have you seen Mr. Bennett? Is he still in town?”

  “I have neither seen nor heard from him. I assume he’s not in New York at the present time.”

  “If you see him, remember not to tell him that I’m in Mercy Falls.”

  Her mother let out a sigh of exasperation. “It’s a good thing I’m coming out. You need a firm hand and guidance.”

  “I shall be happy to see you.” As long as she could convince her mother not to divulge her identity. “I could use your help in planning a charity ball as well.”

  “Ah, I should love that. What’s it for?”

  Olivia told her about the destroyed lighthouse. “But there is much happening here you don’t know, Mother. I’m not quite sure how to tell you this.”

  “What is it?”

  Olivia drew in a breath. “I have most astounding news, Mother. Father is still alive.”

  FIFTEEN

  THE NEXT DAY Harrison made a courtesy call to Lady Devonworth to inquire about her wrist. Her maid told him she was resting and couldn’t be disturbed, but he couldn’t help but wonder if the lady was avoiding him. He set to work on his aeroplane.

  On Friday he finished reviewing a signed contract for a new acquisition for Bennett and Bennett. He knew the contract was fair, but hi
s father would say he should have been harder on the buyout. Harrison knew God had given him the talent to work with numbers and money. Why then did he yearn for something more than creating this? Why did his spirit long to be in his machine soaring above the clouds? His mother said he was throwing away God’s gift by not tending to his talent in the boardroom. Did God always expect a man to use a gift? What about his own desires?

  Frowning, he pushed away the ledger. A movement caught his eye and he looked up to see his father standing in the doorway.

  Harrison pasted on a welcoming smile and rose with his hand outstretched. “Father, when did you arrive?”

  “An hour ago.” The elder Bennett shook Harrison’s hand. “What are you working on, son?”

  “Just filing the purchase papers of Riley Hardware.”

  “Excellent! May I see them?” He settled in the chair on the other side of the desk and pulled the papers toward him. His smile faded as he looked them over. “You paid them more than I specified.”

  “I wanted to be fair.”

  His father sighed. “They agreed to the price.”

  “Only because they were in financial straits with a sick child. We can afford it.”

  “That’s not the point! The sale affects our bottom line. I want you to redo this.”

  “No. I’ve already spoken with Mr. Riley, and he’s most appreciative. The papers are signed. This deal will allow him to take his daughter to New York for treatment. And I’ve already authorized the money to be transferred to his account.”

  His father’s face reddened and his lips tightened. “We’ve spoken about this before, Harrison. You have got to quit this kind of behavior or you will pauper us.”

  “Not much chance of that. Do you even know how much we have in the bank? It’s astronomical. Almost obscene.”

  His father smiled thinly. “There is no such thing as too much money. Even with all our wealth, we still are not accepted in the highest echelon of society. That is my goal. With Eleanor dead, we have to find another woman in that set. Mrs. Stewart is trying to convince Olivia to take Eleanor’s place.”