He pressed his heels harder into the horse’s sides, forcing Galahad to increase his speed. Anna clung to him, similar thoughts undoubtedly haunting her as well.
Within a few minutes, they were there. Clouds of black smoke billowed from the building and flames shot out of the windows. Anna’s gaze frantically searched the assembled crowd, looking for Zachary. The school had been dismissed so everyone could assist in battling the blaze, the younger children clutching the skirts of their teacher as they watched the building burn. Zachary spotted Anna first and ran to her. She leaned down and held him tightly, sighing in relief, tears making tracks in the road dust on her face.
“Mam! What’s happened? Why is our house on fire?”
“I wish I knew, my darling.” Reassuring himself that Zachary was unharmed, Edward quickly joined the line of villagers who passed buckets of water from the river, pouring them on the fire. But the fire was too hot, burning too fast. There was no hope of saving the pub, so Edward instructed everyone to start to pour water on the neighboring structures. With luck they could save the other establishments.
For two hours they worked, until finally England’s weather gods smiled upon them and it began to rain, a soaking downpour that put out the worst of the blaze in moments.
Edward had caught sight of Anna and young Zachary working valiantly beside their neighbors, but now they stood huddled together under a large umbrella someone held over them. Anna’s expression was bleak, as if every ounce of hope had been extinguished along with the last of the flames. He knew when they finished breakfast this morning that she was ready to wed him, to live with him as his baroness, but he was heartsick that now the choice was out of her hands. Tears streamed down Zachary’s face as he stared at the ruins of the only home he had ever known.
Edward walked over to them, held Anna close, lifted Zachary with the other arm. The boy snuggled against him, buried his face in Edward’s shoulder.
“What about my books? My toys? My violin!” Zachary’s wails were heartbreaking. Anna kissed his cheek.
“We are safe. That is the most important thing, Zach. Everything else can be replaced—even your violin.”
Zachary’s tears slowed, and he hiccupped, dehydrated and exhausted, until he finally fell asleep in Edward’s arms. At some point in the past few hours, the Grahams had arrived in the pony cart, and Edward took off his coat, making a nest for the boy in the cart and gently placing him in it. Anna looked ready to drop. Edward lifted her once more onto his horse, finding her almost weightless. He jumped up beside her and again she held him tightly, her cheek against his shoulder as they made their way back to Tynemouth.
****
The war was finally over. Conditions had gotten steadily worse on Johnson’s Island as the fate of Union prisoners in Confederate camps became known. Fewer and fewer prisoners were exchanged, and the camp became much more crowded. For the last year, Edward had slept on the floor, finding that preferable to sharing his narrow bunk with another prisoner. A number of men had tried to escape in the winter—trekking across frozen Lake Erie to the mainland. Only a few of them had been successful. Edward had even participated in one attempt, but he too was caught and returned to the island.
Still, he had not been mistreated, and life was not as bad as it was reported to be in many other prison camps. Edward taught some of the other men to read and write, played piano for Jones’ orchestra, accompanied the minstrel shows which became popular ways to alleviate boredom. His musical skills had increased tremendously, and he could not wait to get home to show his mother. She would be so pleased.
In his darker moments, he missed Anna with a pain that left a hollow wound in his chest. If it hadn’t been for the picture he always kept with him, he was afraid he would have forgotten her face. Try as he might, he could no longer remember the sound of her voice. He wondered if she had forgotten him, if she had moved on without him. Married another. He wondered too why his family had abandoned him to his fate. He liked to believe they had tried and had been unable to come to America. It was, after all, a country at war.
But no longer. After more than three years on Johnson’s Island, Edward and the others were released. They were taken by boat to the mainland, given a sack of food and a little bit of money, and then left there to fend for themselves. Edward headed into the village of Sandusky and rented a room in a small inn. He had his first hot bath in years, a proper shave and haircut, and slept in a feather bed. He asked the innkeeper for a pen and paper and wrote a letter to his parents, telling them he would head for Boston and from there would return to England, and asking for money to pay for his passage.
He purchased the cheapest seat on a stagecoach and made his way to the coast. Arriving in Boston, he checked in at the post office to which he had directed his father to send funds, but there was nothing. He had held onto his pocket watch through the entire war, but now he sold it, using the money to rent a cheap room that was nearly as bad as Johnson’s Island. He checked at the post office every day for weeks until his funds were completely gone.
Finally admitting to himself no communication from his parents would be forthcoming, he signed onto a merchant ship as a deckhand. The captain promised they would sail to England, but they had other stops to make first.
The voyage took two years.
Chapter Twenty-One
Edward was worried about Anna. Although he tried to interest her in working with him at the shipyard, she refused to go anywhere near the remains of the pub. The banns had been read the requisite number of times, but she had made no preparations for their wedding. Instead, she went through the motions of daily life, helped Mrs. Graham in the kitchen, cared for Zachary, but the rest of the day she walked to the cliffside, sat under a tree, and stared out over the water. She would spend hours there, just sitting. Her hair lost its luster, her eyes their sparkle. Edward had no idea what to do, beyond hugging her close at night. They shared a bed, much to the Grahams’ displeasure, but Edward didn’t care. It was the only time Anna seemed alive. She made love to him every night with a fervor and intensity Edward found both exciting and a bit disturbing, given how different she was during the day.
Zachary, on the other hand, proved to be remarkably resilient. Edward had ordered a new violin for him and a small spinet for himself, and they played together most evenings in the Grahams’ sitting room, which now passed for a parlor. Edward delighted in the time he spent with his son. Zachary was an intelligent, lively boy, who was eager to learn whatever life had to offer. Unfortunately, even Zachary’s valiant efforts failed to stir his mother. She smiled at him, pressed a kiss onto his forehead, and then sat staring into the fire.
Edward and Zachary rode into Wallsend every morning, Zachary heading to school and Edward to his office. The constable had made no progress on finding John Baxter’s killer and concluded that the fire that consumed Anna’s livelihood was accidental, a spark from the fireplace in the kitchen. Edward knew it was Weston, but the constable refused to investigate.
Weston had been conspicuously absent from the village for weeks, which to Edward’s mind only made the man look more guilty. Edward wondered what he was doing and what mischief he would get up to next. At least, Edward thought, Anna was safe from him.
One morning he was sitting in his office going over the latest order when his clerk announced Austin, who had been in Newcastle for the past week visiting one of his many siblings. Edward shook his hand and gestured for him to sit in the chair in front of the desk.
“Austin! Welcome back. How is your sister?”
“She is well, thank you, my lord. The new bairn is a bit of a handful, but nothing she can’t handle.”
“I am glad to hear it.” Edward filled him in on the latest news at the yard. After they were finished, he expected Austin to leave, but the man sat there, his forehead wrinkled with concern. “What’s the matter?”
“My sister’s husband and I spent an evening in a pub close to the docks, and I chanced to overhear som
ething of interest. One of the patrons said Weston has opened a new shipyard and has been hiring workers. I made some inquiries the next day, and it is quite true. Weston claims to have plans for a ship that looks very like the one we designed—you remember, the plans went missing the night Baxter was killed?”
“I remember. Perhaps the constable will find this evidence intriguing?”
“I wouldn’t expect so. I saw the constable last evening, when I returned from Newcastle. He was checking a brand new pocket watch every few minutes, as if wanting to show it off, and he wore a new leather overcoat. He could never afford either of those things on his police wages. I think Weston paid him to look the other way.”
Edward tamped down his anger. “Perhaps we should call Scotland Yard?”
“Begging your pardon, my lord, but why would they care?”
Edward sighed. “You’re right, of course. Calling on the constable’s supervisor would also have no effect—he’s related to Weston, I believe. I shall write to my brother-in-law. Perhaps he will have some notion of how to proceed. Although I think we can easily weather the presence of a competitor, I can’t let Weston get away with murder.”
“How are Miss Templeton and young Zachary? Have the police discovered who set the fire?”
“You and I both know who set the fire, Austin. But the police are looking the other way there as well. I received word yesterday that they believe it was an accident and refuse to investigate further. But if you ask me, there have been entirely too many fires in this family for it to be coincidence.”
Austin raised an eyebrow. “Do you think that Weston set the fire that killed your parents?”
“There’s no proof of that, of course, but I am starting to wonder. The man did greatly benefit from the tragedy, after all.”
Austin stood. “If you require anything from me, my lord, you know you need only ask. But I should get back to work.”
Edward thanked him, then turned in his chair to watch the activities in the yard. Men were hard at work. There were plenty of orders for ships, and the business was doing well. But Edward could not help but fear what might happen next.
****
Anna knew she was spiraling into a depression she might not ever be able to shake. The nights spent alone with Edward were the only thing that made her feel anything at all. The constable had visited the day before to inform her the fire was accidental, but Margret swore it could not have been. Anna knew in her heart Weston had set the fire, in retaliation for her rejection, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty that her actions had set his plan in motion, even as the more rational side of her brain told her she could not be held responsible for the acts of a madman.
She had just ventured out to her spot under the tree, when she spotted a figure coming toward her. It was a woman, with dark hair that whipped in the wind, but Anna had trouble making out her features. She turned and waited, peering closely until recognition flickered.
“Theodora?”
“Anna!” Edward’s sister rushed to her and pulled her into a strong embrace.
“But…I thought you were in your confinement?”
“I was. The baby was born a month ago, a strong healthy lad who looks very like Edward, although my husband insists on saying he looks like me. I know Edward will be furious that I didn’t write, but when he wrote to me about the fire, I didn’t want him to abandon you to come to see me. I decided to bring the baby to see all of you, although it took some effort to convince Jonathan.”
“Jonathan. Your husband?”
“Yes. He will be cross if I stand out here for too long—it’s quite cold, don’t you think?”
Anna suddenly felt the chill seeping into her bones. She had been coming here every day for weeks and had never before felt cold. She smiled at Theodora, and slipped her hand into hers. “Let’s go inside.”
In the house Anna was introduced to Dora’s husband, sitting at the kitchen table piled high with tea and biscuits. Mrs. Graham held a bundle of blankets, a thatch of black hair poking out and a happy gurgling noise emanating from within it.
“Anna, dear!” Mrs. Graham held out the bundle. “Meet your nephew, Peter Jedidiah Tenwick.”
Anna took the baby into the crook of her arm, her other hand stroking his soft cheek. She looked up at Dora with some amusement. “He does look like Edward! He’s the spitting image of Zachary when he was a babe.”
Lord Caxton stood and draped an arm across his wife’s shoulder. “If I were the jealous type, I’d wonder if I had anything to do with his creation.” Dora poked him, and he laughed. “I recall the evening quite well, my darling. Never fear.” He gave her a saucy wink, and Dora blushed.
“He’s beautiful, Dora. I’m so very happy for you.” She handed the baby to Dora and curtsied to her husband. “I am pleased to meet you, my lord.”
Lord Caxton grasped her hand and pulled her up. “You are family. There’s no need to stand on formalities.” Anna was struck by how handsome he was; as fair as Dora was dark, but with a twinkle in his eye that matched that of his wife. They were clearly happy and obviously in love with each other. Anna felt a little bit jealous.
“Does Edward know you’re here?”
“Not yet. We wanted to surprise him. He wrote to me a few days ago, and we thought it best to respond in person.”
Anna frowned. Edward hadn’t told her that he was going to write to his brother-in-law, and she had no idea why he would.
“Did he inquire about the baby?”
“Yes, he did, but he also had some business items he wanted to discuss.” Jonathan seemed to avoid her gaze, which made Anna wonder what exactly had been going on while she was lost in her fog these last few weeks.
Just then Zachary came bounding into the kitchen, stopping short with a squeak of his heels as he spotted the newcomers. “Who are you?”
Anna grimaced. “You have no manners whatsoever, have you?”
Dora laughed and held out her hand. “I am your aunt Dora.” She gestured behind her. “This is your uncle Jonathan. And this is your cousin, Peter.” She held the bundle out to Zachary, who peered at the baby swaddled inside. The baby opened his eyes then—a vibrant blue just like his father’s—and smiled.
Zachary’s eyes widened and he grinned. “He likes me!”
Anna laughed. “Of course he does. What’s not to like?”
“May I hold him?” Zachary looked from his mother to his newfound aunt.
“Sit down first, then hold out your arms.” Zachary did as Dora instructed, then Dora put the baby in his lap. Little Peter cooed and gurgled, the happiest of babes, while Zachary watched, transfixed.
Watching her son with his young cousin did something to Anna. The fog she had been in lifted entirely, and she turned to Theodora and hugged her. “Thank you. Thank you so much for coming. You have no idea what it means to me to see you again.”
Dora smiled. Anna had the feeling she knew exactly what it meant, but she said nothing.
“Zach! You forgot…” Anna watched Edward walk in carrying Zachary’s book bag, watched his eyes take in the scene in front of him, his entire family filling the small kitchen. A whole host of emotions flickered across his face. Then he turned to Anna, and she smiled at him, her first genuine smile since the fire. His features relaxed, and he dropped the bag, brushed past his unexpected relatives, and grasped Anna’s face in his cold hands. “Welcome back.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Edward’s relief at seeing Anna’s old smile was palpable. Although surprised to see his sister, he ignored her in favor of Anna. He held her face in his hands, still cold from his ride, and pressed his lips to hers. He forgot for a moment that anyone else was in the room, as his mouth took control of hers, reminding them both what it was to be alive and in love. The kiss left both of them breathless, and Anna gently pushed him away, smiled, and placed her palm on his cheek.
“Edward. Though I loved that greeting more than you can possibly imagine, perhaps you haven’t noti
ced we have visitors.” Edward kissed her again, then turned to greet his sister and her husband.
“What are you doing here? And why are you no longer pregnant?” He sobered. “Did something happen…?”
Dora tapped him on the shoulder. “Of course not. Say hello to your nephew.” Dora picked up the bundle that had been on Zachary’s lap and held out her son. “His name is Peter Jedidiah, after Jonathan’s father and ours. He looks rather a lot like you, I think.”
Edward gazed in wonder at the tiny person in Dora’s arms, whose blue eyes twinkled at him as he gurgled.
“But when?”
“A month ago. And before you yell at me for not telling you, I didn’t want you to rush to Durham and leave everything here. Mrs. Graham has been writing to me…” Edward swiveled to face his unapologetic housekeeper. Dora laughed. “Don’t be angry with her. She wanted me to know what was going on. She was worried about all of you.”
Edward narrowed his eyes. “Does that mean she knew about the baby?”
“Actually, no. I didn’t tell her until my last letter, the one that said we were coming today. I knew she wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret from you for long.”
Mrs. Graham harrumphed from the corner, where she was pulling two plump chickens from the roaster. Dora handed the baby to her husband and bustled over. “Let me help, Mrs. Graham. These smell delicious.” Anna joined them, and Zachary surreptitiously grabbed a few biscuits off the table before picking up his bag and racing upstairs.
Edward laughed and looked at Jonathan. “I believe we’ve been dismissed. Shall we go into the sitting room? I know it’s not quite up to your standards, but it’s comfortable for now.”
“That sounds like a fine plan. This little mite appears to have gone to sleep, so I suggest we set him down somewhere before he wakes up and decides he’d rather eat.”
They walked into the sitting room where Graham was lighting the fire. “Thank you, Graham,” Edward said. “Have you met Theodora’s husband?”
Secret Promise Page 16
