She felt her cheeks turn pink when Cord leaned over her shoulder and whispered in her ear, “I’ll be so happy when we are home having supper at our dinner table.”
Around the table, the McDonalds were all talking at one time as they filled their plates. Conversations zipped back and forth and through each other. It dawned on her how happy they were. They were laughing and joking. In her father’s home, he led the conversation and rarely did she speak. That was until Cord came to be at their home. He would draw her into the conversation, but she knew her father didn’t find pleasure in hearing her opinion.
Nathaniel peered at Abby and asked, “Abby, tell me what life was like on your farm?” Everyone immediately stopped talking and looked at Abby. The quiet made her nervous.
Cord squeezed her hand, “Tell them how hard you worked, Abby. I remember the first time I touched her hands, I felt nothing but calluses.” Cord raised her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. “Now they feel more like the hands of a gently bred lady.”
Abby’s cheeks were flushed. That simple touch had her craving more. Her whole body tightened in response.
She tore her eyes away from Cord and looked at Nathaniel. It amazed her how much her brothers resembled each other. Each had the deep auburn hair and cobalt blue eyes, and sturdy, solid frames. But their personalities varied greatly. Jeremy, the eldest, was always carrying on some nonsense, never taking anything seriously. James, her youngest brother, was dependable and sweet. Nathaniel seemed to be the rock in the family, serious and thinking. Kevin and Lane both skirt chasers, only interested in having a good time. Both had hot tempers and Ian was constantly breaking up fights. She had to admit she was beginning to warm up to them. There was never a dull moment in the McDonald house.
Where would she have fit in if she had never been kidnapped? Would her personality have been different if she had lived with this vibrant, lively family? Of course it would be different. She led a quiet life of church and work. If she had lived here growing up, she would have attended prestigious schools, gone to parties, and she would have been spoiled.
She replied, “On the whole it was pleasant work. I love gardening, so I had my own vegetable garden to tend. Every morning I awoke before dawn and milked our cow, Lou. Then I fixed breakfast before father and Nick left to tend the fields. Different days called for different chores. Some days it was churning the cream into butter, picking black berries, or drying apples. I never had an idle moment.” Abby felt a little homesick. “Our busiest time was when the crops came in. During harvest time I preserved all the vegetables so we would have enough food for the winter. When mother was living, it wasn’t so bad because we shared in the work. After her death all the responsibility was on my shoulders. Nick helped when he could but most of his days were spent in the fields. Harvest time kept them from home until dark.”
Nathaniel looked shocked. “It sounds horrible.”
She knew what they were thinking. While they had every comfort money could buy, she had nothing. Oh, how wrong they were. In reality she had been truly happy. That is until her mother’s death. “I assure you, Nathaniel. I have been content. I have led a simple but fulfilling life.”
Nathaniel handed Abby a bowl as he asked, “What did you do for entertainment?”
“We went to church every Sunday.”
Grace placed her hand over Abby’s. “Church? Then you attended church socials?”
“No, Grace, just preaching. My father was extremely strict.”
James chimed in his eyes sparkling mischievously, “She never learned to dance, Mama. I remember the first time I danced with her, she stepped all over my feet. You had to be there to understand the humor. There she was looking all elegant and beautiful in a fancy dress. The prettiest girl at the party, but she couldn’t dance a lick.”
Everyone started laughing, even Cord. Abby’s cheeks turned pink from embarrassment and then she began to laugh. “I guess I was pitiful.”
“I thought you were enchanting. I prayed you were my sister.”
James’ words caused Abby to become serious. The moment of camaraderie disappeared and everyone became quiet.
Ian took Grace’s hand and bowed his head as did everyone else at the table. As his deep voice gave thanks for the food, Abby’s melancholy returned. The moment Ian said, “Amen” she squeezed Cord’s hand hoping to take comfort in his strength.
“Abby, I received a telegraph today.” Ian draped his arm over the back of Grace’s chair. His expression got stern as he looked at Abby. “The person responsible for your kidnapping has been located. I have asked that she be brought here.”
Bewildered, Abby asked, “She? A woman is responsible for my abduction?”
“Yes, Abby.”
“You said the person who abducted me wanted revenge against you. What did you do to a woman to warrant that much anger?” Every time she tried to put a face to the person who kidnapped her, it had always been a man. Not once had she imagined a woman being responsible for such a heinous crime.
Ian said nothing as he picked up his fork and nervously moved his food around on his plate. After several seconds he replied, “I will have to ask her that very question when she arrives.”
Her eyes narrowing suspiciously, Abby stated, “Surely you know or at least suspect.”
Grace covered Ian’s hand with hers. “Tell her, Ian. I think you should be honest. She has had enough deceit in her life.”
Hands clamped together, Ian sat up straight in his chair. “I was betrothed once. My father made all the arrangements. Lydia came all the way from Scotland to be my wife. Father did not want to tarnish our bloodline so he arranged for all his sons to marry only Scots.” He looked pensive for a moment. “She was breathtakingly beautiful. But as we all know beautiful things can be wicked. It didn’t matter to me. Even though it did not take me long to realize just how wicked, I was young and felt I could control her. Then two weeks before I was to wed Lydia, I met Grace. I knew the moment I saw her, she was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.” Ian looked lovingly at Grace. Then his eyes became serious again as he looked at Abby. “My father did not take the news well. He insisted I marry Lydia. Two days before I was to marry Lydia, Grace and I eloped. I returned home with my beautiful, sweet wife. Lydia was livid. She was accustomed to getting what she wanted because her father had spoiled her. She ranted and raved for days until my father was able to arrange for her passage back home. My father sent her back to Scotland and I never heard from her again. Well, that is what we thought.” His eyes returned to Grace. “We now know she never got on that ship bound for Scotland.”
Abby whispered, “What makes you think she was responsible for abducting me?”
Ian crossed his arms and shifted in his chair. “She wrote me many love letters before coming to America. Even when we were courting, while she was living at our home, she wrote me several love letters. There is a flourish to her writing, bold curvy letters. I’m positive the letter left with you was written by her.”
“Why would she wait all those years for revenge? It does not make sense. Why not kidnap Jeremy?” Abby waved an arm toward Jeremy. “He was your first born? Why did she wait years until I was born?”
His voice was controlled, but had a chilling edge to his tone. “I do not understand her logic. When she is brought here, I will ask her.”
Cord asked, “How long do you think it will be before she arrives?”
“Several days. The Pinkerton Agent I hired found out she has been living in Richmond, Virginia. In all these years she never returned to Scotland. The authorities are going to assist the agent to make sure she does not escape. I’m not taking any chances.”
In a voice full of excitement, Cord inquired, “Now can we go home?”
“Sorry, Cord. Not until I talk to Lydia and find out the names of anyone who was involved in Abby’s abduction. She didn’t act alone. She must have hired accomplices.” Ian turned his attention from Cord to Abby. “It was a man Gra
ce saw carrying you away.”
The pain and turmoil they had endured over the years caused her to feel sympathy for them. Ian may have forced them to stay, but she had come to know them better. It was obvious they were a close, and deeply devoted family. The way his sons called him daddy seemed so endearing. It had not taken her long to see they respected and admired Ian.
A hungry cry interrupted their meal. Abby scooped Daniel from the basket lying next to the table. Ian took out his pocket watch and laughed. “I could set my watch by the child. He eats every three hours precisely on the dot.”
Before she reached the stairs, Cord shouted, “Wait, Abby, I want to spend some time with my son.” Even though he had not finished eating his meal, Cord’s quick strides quickly caught up with Abby at the bottom of the stairs. He lifted Daniel from her arms and peered lovingly into his son’s face.
“Wait a minute, Cord. Did you forget you are still under house arrest?” A look that could only be interpreted as a warning caused Abby to tremble.
Cord stiffened and objected sternly, “I have had enough of you calling the shots, Ian. I’m not going back into that dreadful, damp cellar, and I dare you to try to force me. I have been a very patient man because I didn’t want to upset Abby. I will no longer be pushed around by you.”
Ian stood and moved toward Cord. Hands on her hips, Abby hissed, “Leave him alone, Ian. He is right. We have done as you asked.”
The room was deathly quiet, everyone’s attention on the scene unfolding before them. Abby and Cord were the only people brave enough to stand up to Ian. Instead of stopping when he reached them, Ian stormed past and disappeared into his study, slamming the door loudly behind him. With his free hand, Cord tucked it under Abby’s arm and they walked up the steps together.
****
With her ear pressed to the door of Ian’s study, Abby tried to listen to the conversation taking place on the other side. She had seen the coach approach from her window an hour ago. The occupants quickly entered the house but she could not make out any features from the lone woman because she was dressed in black and heavily veiled. The three men and the presumed Lydia had been ushered into the study and no one had yet emerged. Only able to hear their muffled voices through the thick oak, Abby considered knocking on the door and demanding Ian let her be involved with presenting his evidence to Lydia. Nerves on edge, Abby wondered if she was at that very moment confessing to kidnapping her nineteen years ago. It wasn’t fair she was not included because it also affected her.
Chewing her bottom lip, Abby debated whether to storm in or wait. Suddenly Abby heard someone at the door. She scurried into the parlor across the hall from Ian’s study. She stood in the shadow against the wall and watched as Ian, the three men, and Cord stepped out of the room. How could Cord have been allowed to sit in on Lydia’s interrogation, but not her?
They disappeared quickly into the foyer. Voices faded until she no longer heard them. Not wasting a moment, Abby ran into Ian’s study and shut the door behind her. Leaning against the door, her heart beat frantically as she gasped for breath. Never in her life had she stooped to snooping. Well, that was not entirely true. She did sneak into Jacob’s room and go through the trunk hidden under his bed. But she felt she was entitled, given the circumstances.
Her eyes scanned the room, but she saw no one. Where did Lydia go? Ian’s high back leather chair faced the window. Slowly, Abby moved around Ian’s desk feeling a sense of foreboding. There sitting in Ian’s chair, shackles around her ankles and wrists, sat Lydia. Only hints of red showed through her stiff, dry, gray hair. Maybe she had once been beautiful as Ian had described her, but the years had been unkind. Deep crevices and cracks lined her face reminding Abby of an evil witch. Pale green eyes gazed up at her.
“You must be Ellie.” Her voice no more than a whisper, caused her skin to crawl.
Too weak to stand, Abby moved closer and sat on the window sill directly across from Lydia. Her legs were threatening to buckle underneath her. “Did you kidnap me?”
Not even attempting to lie, Lydia simply stated, “Yes.” Her face didn’t show even a minimal amount of emotion.
“Why?”
Lydia sat unmoving. When she pushed a stray hair away from her face with a bony hand, Abby almost felt pity for her. She wore a loose fitting black dress that disguised her shape. Now looking at her thin, knobby hands and fingers she knew the woman was in poor health. She looked fragile enough to shatter into pieces.
Breathlessly, Lydia replied, “Anger my dear. I wanted revenge against your father.” She stopped and took a deep breath before continuing. “I loved your father with all my soul and being. He promised to marry me. I gave myself to him. The only man I ever laid with. How did he repay me?” Abby waited for Lydia to take several deep breaths before she continued. It was several minutes before she had the strength to speak. “Two days before we were to be married, he eloped with that whore, your mother.”
Abby clenched her jaw so tight it caused her pain. She shut her eyes until her temper was under control. Hearing someone call her mother a whore made her blood boil. Abby blurted out, “He loves her. She gave him strong sons and happiness. Surely, you should have been more understanding. If you would see them together, you would know it is meant to be.”
A withered fist slammed onto the arm of Ian’s chair causing her shackles to jingle ominously. At least now she was showing some emotion. “She stole him from me. He was promised to me since I was a child. I wrote him letters, I waited for him.” Waving her hand about the room, Lydia vehemently stated, “All this should have been mine. You should have been mine.”
At that moment Abby realized Lydia was truly mad. She could see it in her pale, cloudy eyes. Her anger turned to pity.
“Why did you wait so many years and then kidnap me? Why so long to exact your revenge?” At first Lydia would say nothing. Her lips held tightly together, Abby feared she would never know why she kidnapped her. “Please, I need to know.”
Lydia’s deep sigh filled the room. “Ian’s father paid my fare back to Scotland. Before I boarded the ship, I realized I was with child. I was so happy to know I would have a small part of Ian.”
As Lydia struggled for breath, Abby felt helpless. She knew she should tell the woman to rest, but she had to hear the rest of her story. She needed to know why the woman chose the path she took in life, the path that brought her nothing but misery and almost destroyed the McDonalds.
“I didn’t get on the ship. I stayed in Wilmington until my baby was born; a beautiful baby girl with a mop of red curls, and deep blue eyes. She looked just like you did when you were a baby. Just like Ian.” Grief showed in her dull eyes. “She died the next day.”
Abby put her hand over her mouth thinking how heart wrenching it would be to want something so badly and then to lose it after one day. Tears ran down Lydia’s sunken cheeks as memories of that horrible day returned. She never moved as she watched the anguish in the old woman’s face. Her mother, Martha, must have felt the same pain when she lost her baby girl.
Abby stuffed her hand into her pocket and removed her handkerchief handing it to Lydia. As she dabbed at her eyes, her anger at being jilted by Ian returned.
“I asked questions about the prestigious McDonald family. I knew of every birth. Then I heard Ian’s wife had birthed a daughter.” Lydia looked down at her lap and rested for what seemed an eternity before she proceeded. “Even though years had passed, I was still bitter. I hired someone to kidnap you. My plan was for you to die at my hand. I wanted Ian to suffer as I did when my daughter died.” Again her eyes met Abby’s, and she whispered weakly, “When I looked into your perfect little face, I thought of my daughter. You looked just like her. I could not go through with it. I wanted Ian to mourn but I could not kill you. When I told the men I hired to help in your abduction I changed my mind, they insisted I kill you. I stole you away and left you on the doorstep of a small farm in the middle of nowhere.”
“Why did yo
u not keep me and raise me yourself?” Abby shivered at the thoughts of having someone as demented as Lydia for a mother. What kind of person would she have grown to be? She would probably have been as evil and full of hate as Lydia.
“I feared Ian would find you. I never wanted you returned to him. I wanted him to go to his grave always wondering if you were dead or alive.” Lydia’s head fell back against the chair too exhausted to continue. All Abby could think about was how she had wasted her whole life. Instead of finding a man and being happy, she chose a life that destroyed her.
Abby dropped to her knees in front of Lydia. For some strange reason she could not touch her. Compassion for others had always been one of her strongest emotions, but this woman didn’t deserve her forgiveness. However, God demanded she forgive even this woman who had caused so much pain, not only to her but also to the McDonalds.
“We need to pray for your soul, Lydia. Close your eyes and I will pray for you.”
“It is too late for my soul.”
She leaned in close to hear her raspy whisper. “Nonsense, it is never too late. God will forgive you no matter what sins you have committed. Please, close your eyes, humble yourself before God.”
Lydia closed her eyes and Abby began to pray. The words flowed from Abby’s lips. She prayed with all the strength she possessed, hoping to change her evil heart. Only God could help Lydia now.
“What in the hell do you think you are doing?”
Abby raised her head to find Ian looming over her, hands clenched into fists. So intent on her prayer, she didn’t hear him enter. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m praying for Lydia’s soul.”
Ian grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to her feet. “No, I forbid it. She is too evil for heaven. God will not allow her through the gates. She is not worthy of your kindness.”
“Anyone can enter, Ian. That is if they repent.” Abby eased back, angled her head so she could look directly into Ian’s eyes.
Love Me Again Page 21
