Most often, I didn't respond. I didn't agree to marry him or spend the rest of my life by his side as he desired. Little did Ned realize, as much as his sights were set on having me as his wife, to love and cherish me - probably the way Daddy did Momma, I wasn't about to fall in love with any man ever again, not even one so obviously wonderful as Ned Griffin. I had my sights set on Richard, and taking him down. Still, I wasn't certain how that would come about.
I sat beside Ned and casually listened to him converse with his mother about the production, city life, and on and on. His mother was so happy to see him. I learned it had been three years since he had been back home.
"This is Ned's childhood home," Mrs. Griffin said as she poured me another cup of tea. "Born and raised here with his older brother, John."
Ned had never mentioned a brother.
"He was killed at Gettysburg. Only nineteen he was," she added somberly.
"Oh, I'm sorry for your loss," I said as Ned took hold of my hand and tenderly placed it in his.
"I know it's late. You two look exhausted. Let me show you to your room, Lillian." I stood, and Ned followed closely behind me. I expected us to sleep in the same room, for we had been together as lovers for nearly six months. However, it became apparent his mother had no intention of our sleeping in the same small bed in the cozy little room that overlooked the moonlit lake.
"Ned, you'll have to sleep in the parlor. I'm afraid all of the other guest rooms are taken until tomorrow."
"That's fine, Ma."
"Fresh linens on the bed. Make yourself at home. I'll have breakfast ready bright and early," she said as she bade me goodnight.
Ned stood in the room waiting for his goodnight kiss. I couldn’t remember a night he hadn't snuggled next to me as I slept, sometimes stroking my hair while I drifted away into my recurring nightmares. If only he were Richard, I would tell myself each time his soft fingers traveled through the long strands of my thick hair. As much as I loathed Richard for deceiving me and planned to torment him with every asset I had - including my relationship with Ned - when it was late and dark, I still longed for it to be Richard loving me and not Ned. Sometimes, when his arms wrapped around me and his lips pressed against mine, I swore in my mind that he was the man who had promised me fame and fortune, and love most of all. He’d sworn to care for me and protect me. And in fact, he had betrayed me, almost as much as my own father had. Richard had led me to believe he was my rock, my anchor, and that he would sacrifice anything or anyone just to make me happy. It was all an illusion to win my trust, suck me in like a giant whirlpool in the foreboding sea, and then swallow me down to such a cold, dark place I would lose myself.
When I stared up at Ned, I wondered if he, too, could possibly take me down as Richard had. Was I still so naïve to believe he was truly in love with me? Did he have my best interests at heart, or was he just as selfish and calculating as all the rest?
"Why do you look at me with such doubt? Why do I see such disenchantment in your eyes?" he asked somberly. "You know I will do nothing to hurt you."
"I do know that, Ned. I do," I lied.
I wasn't so sure about his intentions, although they truly seemed honorable. Yes, he may have owned and produced a risqué show, surrounded himself with sly, greedy businessmen whom Richard modeled himself after, but there was a certain look in his eyes and a sound in his voice that was always filled with such sincerity. It would be hard not to fall into any trap he may have set.
Ned came and embraced me, then placed a long, long kiss on my lips. Finally, when he drew away, I let him have the beautiful confident smile that he constantly seemed to crave.
"That's better. Forgive me for bringing you here and surprising you with my parents and my family home. If I had warned you beforehand, I feared you might not have come. I wanted so much for my parents to meet the woman who stole my heart. Am I wrong for that? Tell me I'm not."
Just to have him believe we were still on track, that I wanted and needed him in my life, I smiled again and relieved his fears of my displeasure. "I’m glad you brought me here, Ned. I think we will have a wonderful time. Your mother seems like a sweet woman . . . very genuine. I can see she loves you very much."
"And my father?" His brows raised in question. Yes, the animosity was obvious, even to me. To any stranger it would be.
"He is a handsome man," was all I could manage to comment.
"He wasn't too pleased to see me. But that doesn't surprise me. We don't exactly get along." Ned turned to go, but as he did, I reached for him and made him turn back to me. With my heart filled with immense confusion, longing, and the heavy weight of distrust, I asked, "Why did you really bring me here?"
"To meet my family, to see where I grew up. So you can know what kind of man I really am. So perhaps I can put all of your fears to rest and convince you that I am not out to hurt you, for I see such pain and anguish in your eyes. I hope someday to erase all of that for you."
Here was a man who knew somehow that I had suffered, but was unaware of all the reasons. I mentioned nothing of my past - not even my last name. I hadn't told him about Jasper Island - of Heath and Ayden. Ned didn't know of my mother’s tragedy or her madness. I had said nothing of all my misfortunes. He never asked about the scars on my back, and I hadn't offered to explain. Ned was there to be my crutch. I hated myself for taking advantage of a gorgeous, wealthy man, who offered me all the things I had hoped and dreamed for.
"Thank you, Ned," I whispered, choking back my tears. I caressed his scruffy cheek, then sat on the bed and wondered if I could follow through with my plan to reel Ned in - this poor unsuspecting man any woman would be lucky to have - and continue with my plot to make Richard suffer more than I had.
Ned was anxious to take me to the falls, and shortly after breakfast, we hurried off, leaving his mother rather disappointed.
"Will you be back for supper?" she called from the front porch steps.
"We’ll try!" Ned called back, and he pulled me along the road.
"It's not a far walk. We have to head up this hill, and over on the other side are the falls . . . the beautiful, breathtaking waterfalls."
I stared up at the steep tree-covered hill and pulled back. "I can't climb over that hill!"
"Sure you can. Come on Lillian. There is something special waiting for you over on the other side."
Ned was insistent, and when I wouldn't budge, he scooped me up in his arms and carefully carried me over the hill. On the other side, to my surprise, was a red and white checkered tablecloth spread out under a big wicker picnic basket on a small ledge that overlooked the spectacular waterfalls. Instantly, my mind flashed back to when Warren and I shared a picnic under the willow tree along the river’s edge. I was so in love, longing and hoping Warren would think I was beautiful and want to marry me. That day, I saw for the first time the love in his eyes for me. Little did I know then that he was my father - my very own father.
"What is it? Don't you like the lunch I made us? I picked out this spot especially for us. I woke early to get it here."
"What . . . yes. Yes, Ned. It’s sweet. Thank you."
"Allow me," he said and then assisted me over to the romantic spot.
"A glass of wine?"
"Small . . . just a small amount."
The setting was carefully orchestrated. I could see the glee in Ned's face. The day could not have been more glorious. The buds of the surrounding trees were just beginning to emerge, and the sun was higher in the sky than in late winter. The birds were chirping happy songs of sunny days and flitting from branch to branch, making nests for their new baby birds. The water flowed freely down the narrow gorge, and it was just Ned and I - alone.
I took a tiny sip of wine - I would have no more - and nibbled on a piece of fried chicken I gathered he’d taken from his mother’s pantry. Ned didn't eat much, just stared at me with a grin that made me blush.
"Please stop staring at me," I said, and uncomfortably looked away. Was I s
trong enough? Did I have a strong enough backbone to play such a charade with him? I silently asked myself.
"I can't help it. How lucky am I to be with such a beauty, and a talented beauty at that! You’re smart and witty and a gift to any man," he began, and took hold of both my hands. Then, to my dismay, he bent down on one knee and pulled a stunning diamond ring from his breast pocket. I gasped, and my mind went into a frenzy. Oh, Ned had talked of marrying me, and I’d vaguely listened, but I didn't expect a surprise proposal.
"Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, Miss Lillian?"
I looked deep into his brown, almost black-as-coal eyes, looking for a sign that he was playing some cruel practical joke on me. Should I believe he truly did love me? Could I deny what I was truly seeing? It was a day I had dreamed of since I was a little girl - when life had everything to offer and love was easily obtainable. I had imagined Heath saying these exact words to me, once upon a time. I had accepted that Richard would probably never ask me to marry him; however, his pledge to hold and love me every night was close enough at the time.
Now here I was, sitting before a truly handsome man, holding my hand out to have an engagement ring slipped on my finger, and all I could do was cry.
"Are those tears of happiness, I hope?" Ned asked, worried, while hushing me.
I had to make a decision. Would I go on, become Ned Griffin’s wife and continue to plot against Richard? It would be to my benefit, I believed, and would add to the punishment Richard would soon receive. If Richard found out I was marrying Ned, he would certainly be livid. Despite the fact that Richard pushed me, used me, and threw me out when he was finished with me, I believed that somewhere deep inside him he had loved me. And I knew Richard hated Ned Griffin with every ounce of his being, and that it would kill him to learn I had given myself to Ned.
Then, as Ned locked lips with mine, I thought of running away and abandoning my quest for vengeance. Did I really want to lie, deceive, and crucify an innocent man, just to satisfy my own need for revenge? Ned didn't deserve to be caught in the middle of my obsession . . . or did he? I still didn't know, couldn't be certain about his motives. I just couldn't. My thoughts turned desperate. Oh, Richard, this is all your fault! If only you hadn’t betrayed me, none of this would be happening. Why couldn’t you have loved me? Why was it all a game? How many more people need to be hurt?
When his lips parted from mine, I gazed up to the clear, crisp blue sky. I wondered if there really was a God up there, and if so, was he looking down upon me, disgusted, with plans to shut the golden gates of Heaven, never to let me in when my time came. Did he think I was cruel, as cruel as my own father, uncle, and grandmother? For they all had to be burning in hell. I didn't want to end up in such a place. What was I to do? I cried inside for an answer. It felt so wrong to say yes to Ned, so immoral and wrong, for I didn't love him. Yet, in my mind, it was clear as the sky above me, and without another thought of heaven and hell, God or the devil, I lifted my heavy head, looked deeply into Ned Griffin's loving eyes, and said, "Yes. Yes Ned, I will marry you."
* * *
Chapter Thirteen
A reason to let it go
That afternoon, until early in the evening, well into a beautiful twilight, Ned and I stayed by the falls. The setting seemed like some sort of created fantasy, even if he was not the prince in my dreams. Ned picked me pretty flowers that grew near the edge of the steep gorge, then led me below so we could dip our feet into the freezing fresh water. I lifted up my dress enough to dip my feet, while Ned rolled up the ends of his trousers as we both sat on a huge boulder and talked of our future together. With my toes numb, as well as my heart, I listened to his plans, ideas and dreams of life together as husband and wife.
“We will work hard, you and I, to make our stock company into the most successful one of its time. With your beauty, grace, and talent, I see that as inevitable. Then in a few years, maybe we can sell the theater and move upstate, possibly even here to the town where I grew up. Then we can start a family.”
Ned seemed infatuated with the idea. His eyes glazed over as he looked into some kind of magical doorway to the future. He no doubt saw us together, hand-in-hand, side-by-side. Ned wanted me to be the mother of his children - a thought that left me sick to my stomach and gave me a horrendous headache.
“I want two children . . . two sons,” he confessed while he gently dripped the icy cold water from the tips of his long fingers onto my toes. Slowly the drops slid off my small feet and down the boulder. I would never have suspected that Ned was such a hopeless romantic. I knew him as a shrewd, wealthy businessman who wanted me exclusively. When we first met, I had disliked him immensely. Even though I thought of him as extremely attractive, I never once imagined that the marriage proposals he used to send me were in fact real, that he truly loved me, and it wasn’t a casual infatuation as with all the other wealthy, handsome men who attempted to court me - even the married ones.
I hadn’t seen Ned Griffin as any different. However, he was, and I found myself swallowing hard and biting my lower lip not to burst out crying. I continued to relive Judith’s confession, remember all of Richard’s lies. That’s what kept me from falling apart and abandoning my obsession with an iniquitous reprisal.
“That all sounds so lovely, but . . .” I stopped myself, considering if I should reveal I never wanted children. Maybe it wasn’t necessary, for I was going to carry on my ruse for no more than six months. That’s what I’d promised myself.
“What, Lillian?” Ned asked, as he lay on his side, his one arm holding up his head and the other continuing to allow drops of water to tickle my feet. He was looking down, mesmerized by the drops, when I spoke up and said I didn’t want children. I awaited his response, knowing it might be the end of our short engagement. What man wouldn’t want children?
He sat up, looked at me, and then sighed heavily. I went to rise, but Ned reached for me and said, “Sit a while longer. The day is so exquisite; I don’t want it to end. Perhaps I rushed things a bit with the mention of children. Let’s wait and see. There is a chance you would reconsider?”
“Perhaps,” was all I could manage to say. Ned and I had been careful; he made sure he didn’t leave anything of himself inside me to chance making a baby when we were intimate. Richard hadn’t been that careful - he enjoyed his pleasure all the way, and I suppose I was lucky. I didn’t want any man’s child, not even Richard’s.
We sat at the edge of the falls for some time before we made our way back to the rooming house.
Mrs. Griffin was just about to serve supper when we came in. There were two guests seated at the table. One man appeared to be older than Ned, and was rather meek-looking. His hair was dark and slicked back, and his moustache was thin and twisted up at each end. His clothing was freshly washed, a complimentary service for all guests at The Inn, but his suspenders were worn and used. His shirt collar had a filthy ring around it that no amount of scrubbing could remove.
The other man was young, lanky, and thin, but quite healthy looking. He had sandy- colored hair and piercing green eyes. The moment I sat down at the table he flicked his eyes in my direction and scanned me over, then nervously shifted his glance away. Ned wasn’t nearly as possessive of me as Richard had been, and hadn’t noticed the man discreetly gazing at me. However, Norman Griffin noticed. He was keenly aware of everything that went on, whether he was in the room or not.
“Your room is ready for you, Ned. Swept and polished, fresh linens on the bed,” his mother said as she sat down to eat. The woman looked exhausted; her brow was covered in wrinkles, and her elderly, spotted hands were gnarled from years of hard work running the rooming house. She was responsible for all the cooking, washing, scrubbing, dusting, and so on. Ned’s father was in charge of the daily upkeep and seemingly endless repairs on the enormous house. Although the house was clean and tidy, it was apparent in the light of day how neglected the large home really was. Outside, the paint was peeling and the front
porch, which at first glance appeared to be in good shape, was sloping and had dozens of rotten floor boards. Inside the dozen or so rooms, the carpets were worn, the furniture old, and the wallpaper discolored and peeling from the seams. It was by no means as rundown and dilapidated as Sutton Hall. In fact, this house had been loved and cared for throughout the fifty years of its existence. I gathered the reason they had turned their beloved home into a boarding house was to help with the costs of running such a large home.
The matter came up soon after I had reached that conclusion, and I sat uncomfortably as Norman took Ned outside to the barn. That’s when I heard them arguing.
Mrs. Griffin’s guest, the shy-looking young man, sat across from me, slowly finishing his meal while Mrs. Griffin cleared the table. I offered to help, but she insisted I relax and wait for a slice of pie. Ned hadn’t mentioned our engagement, hadn’t made a special announcement during supper. Instead, he held my hand under the table as if he didn’t want his parents to know yet. Or perhaps he wasn’t ready to reveal the news to his father.
Their voices traveled with the chilly spring breeze up to the house and through the opened dining room window. I recognized Ned’s heated voice. I’d heard him yell at the actors, make heated demands during rehearsals; “Louder . . . sing louder. Your lines, when are you all going to know your lines? This dance line is out of sync . . . Let’s get it right, ladies and gentleman!”
I sat uncomfortably, shifting in my chair, ill at ease with the man who continued to gaze at me with bashful eyes. He was introduced as Frederick Reese from Philadelphia. “He’s on his way to visit his sickly aunt in Buffalo, isn’t that right, Frederick?” Ned’s mother asked before supper was over.
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