The Widow's Walk

by Carole Ann Moleti

  Liz stood in the dark, deserted conservatory, shaken by Edward’s visitation, the confrontation with Elisabeth’s father, and Jared’s manifestation through Mike. Her fingers and toes burned as they re-warmed. Elisabeth’s scarred soul ached deep inside. Yet a spark of relief, not unlike the doctor telling you the biopsy was negative, had ignited. It was almost over. Now to rebuild the damage that had been done.

  Mike might not realize it, but she’d seen the look in his eyes, the blank stare. She’d heard Jared's edge in his voice, razor sharp, honed by the grinding stone of misery carried for far too long.

  The warmth, welcomed at first, quickly turned to an oppressive heat. Her head pounded–a combination of the paranormal hangover, lack of sleep, and mind-numbing emotion. The last time she’d touched Edward, the night she’d conceived, she almost drowned following him. Tonight, his message to Elisabeth was clear, her life was over and the wrongs righted. She should let Liz go back to her husband, and to life. But would the ghost take heed?

  She craved the feeling of Mike’s skin against hers, his arms holding her close, steadying her, possessing her. Liz needed the warmth of his body to rout the ghostly chill of Elisabeth’s soul.

  Liz made her way to her room, hoping to avoid Emma and James. But as soon as she walked back into the main hall, the two of them hurried down.

  “Liz, where’s Eddie? We were so worried when you didn’t come back for dinner, and then . . . ”

  James cut Emma off. “A man and a woman came looking for you and the baby. The woman speaks with the oddest accent I’ve ever heard. The man looks like he’s a spring wound too tight, about to explode. We didn’t tell them you were here.”

  “My husband and Eddie’s nanny missed us and wanted to surprise me. I got so busy in London, and Iman picked me up late.” She hated lying, but there was no other way to explain. “They’re up in my room with Eddie while I took a walk to the graveyard and to the gazebo. It’s so beautiful outside in the snow.

  They looked askance at each other.

  James studied her face. “I’m sorry we were so inhospitable to them, but we wanted to keep your presence here private.”

  Liz tried to change the subject. “They’ll understand. I know it’s too late for dinner, but I was going to get some milk and a snack for the baby.”

  Emma grabbed her arm. “Nonsense. I will heat up a meat pie for you and bring up a tray. You look frost bitten and exhausted. Are you sure everything is all right?”

  Liz blinked. Any makeup left on her face crackled under her eyes. “The snow . . . my face got wet. I’m going to have a nice long bath after I eat.” Finally, something she said was true.

  “I’ll be up in a flash,” Emma went to the kitchen.

  James offered his arm. “Let me walk you up. I want to offer my apologies to your husband.”

  There was no gracious way out. “All right.” She took his arm and they went upstairs.

  Mike sat on the bed, rocking Eddie. The baby was in his pajamas, sound asleep, still hanging onto his father. He and Mae looked up when she stepped through the unlocked door, prepared to pounce.

  James’s presence offered a momentary buffer. “Mr. Keeny, I must offer my apologies for the ungracious treatment you and Mrs. Fitzgerald received when you arrived. I will credit the cost of the second room immediately.”

  Mike continued to sway, even though the baby was dreaming peacefully. “I’m glad you took such good care of my wife and son. We’ll be using the room, so no credit is necessary.”

  “Thank you for understanding. We will discuss the rate adjustment tomorrow, then. Emma will be up shortly with tea, and some supper for Liz. Too bad the nipper is already asleep and missed his dinner.” He exited.

  As his footsteps faded in the hall, Mae jumped up. “Excuse me.” She started to the door.

  “No, stay right here.” Mike placed Eddie in the crib and covered him before he turned to the two women. “I need time alone to consider my options.”

  He strode toward the door. Liz’s chest hurt as if she’d been punched.

  “Wait.” She ran into the hall and caught his arm. “We need to talk.”

  “We don’t need to do anything. Tomorrow, I’ll figure out how we’re all going to get home–together. Then you need to placate Marianne Hartley, and the authorities that want to question you. And Jay, who has been desperately trying to contact you about how he’s going to 'fix' all this. Now that I know you and Eddie are alive, I need eight hours of uninterrupted rest– alone.” Mike shook her hand off and left.

  The bitter words stung the raw inside of her gut where the ghost resided, now an empty chasm. Liz returned to the room.

  Exhaustion softened Mae’s brogue. “Liz, we’re all wasted away from worry. I called Kevin to tell him we’d found you and Eddie, and that you’re all right. The poor man was in tears. I need to get some sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll talk tomorrow.” She managed a flicker of a smile and crawled onto one side of the double bed, still in her clothes.

  Emma rapped at the door. Liz took the tray and ate by herself. The food filled a hole in her stomach, but did nothing to alleviate the dread, the uncertainty. She brought the dishes back to the kitchen and wandered the chasms of Elisabeth’s unhappy past. The Countess’ eyes seemed to follow her as she walked past the portrait over the piano.

  Liz sat by a window in the parlour, looking out over the landscape illuminated by the snow. The present blended into the past. She was Liz, wanting her husband, the one Edward had handed her off to as Jared, now twice. And she was Elisabeth, longing for Edward who she captured the first time only to have him slip through her fingers–now gone forever. The gazebo stood shrouded in a ghostly glow, a remnant of Edward’s visitation, now deserted, empty.

  Liz vowed to do the best she could to repair her portion of the damage. Broke, widowed, now soon to be divorced, she’d try to move on.

  Chapter 37

  Mae and Liz explored the house, looking at the antiques and furniture. This threatened to snap Mike’s last nerve. How could they have recovered from the ordeal so quickly? It certainly sounded like Katherine had retreated into the recesses of her memory, and there wasn’t a trace of British in Liz’s voice. Every time he thought of the graveyard, let alone caught a glimpse of it out the dining room window, he needed another layer of clothes. Another one of those feminine mysteries.

  He just wanted to get the hell out of this country. But Mae was looking forward to seeing Buckingham Palace, the changing of the guard, Harrods. The least she could do since she’d been responsible for finding Liz in the first place. He’d just stay in the hotel room they’d booked and paid for already with Eddie while two women continued their soiree without any interference.

  Mike turned his attention back to the computer, trying to get Liz and Eddie a seat on the same return flight he and Mae were booked on. No luck unless he wanted to spring for first class. No way was he sending her on a flight by herself. His back was turned to Elisabeth’s portrait over the piano, but Mike felt her gaze on him, and a faint tingle of Edward’s presence in this room, ruining his breakfast. But the Internet didn’t work too well anywhere else.

  “Any luck?” Liz chased Eddie into the room.

  He picked up his son. His son. Those damp kisses could soothe any hurt. “Not unless you want to blow $1000.00 on a first class ticket. Or take a chance on standby.”

  “I have a lot of points on my American Express, which I was saving for something else. This might be a good time to use them up.” She sat next to him and tapped the keyboard.

  The scent of lemon caught his nose. Did she go anywhere without that powder and lotion?

  Liz looked at him. “Buy it. It’s first class, but I have enough points to defray the cost.” “You can sit there with Eddie, if you’d like.”

  Eddie squirmed. “Hang
on champ. I’ll take you for a walk in a minute. Let’s not worry about that now. At least we’re on the same plane.” He didn’t want to think about the next three days, the four of them in a tiny hotel room, the trip home, or what was going to happen once they got there. He didn’t want to think about anything.

  She typed. “Okay, confirmed. The ticket will be almost free.”

  “No, it cost a fortune.” He knew she’d been saving those points for a belated honeymoon, and this was the furthest thing from it he could imagine.

  They stared at each other for what seemed like forever.

  “I’ll make this all up to you, Mike. I swear.”

  “I’m not sure you can.”

  “Iman will take us back to London this afternoon. We can try and salvage something over the next few days, can’t we?”

  The whole story of how she got this private driver was as clunky as a bell buoy. “Tell me again how you met this guy.”

  “A businessman helped me with my bags and through security. Turned out to be the British special envoy. He sent Iman to meet me at the airport. And Andrew picked up the tab for my breakfast and the ride from the airport.”

  “Andrew? You’re on a first name basis with a chauffeur and some guy you met in the airport? How did you know any of this was legit?” He was continually unimpressed with her lack of judgment.

  “I was nervous at first, but you have to have faith sometimes.” She sat back, her arms crossed over her chest. “You trusted Sandra, didn’t you? I didn’t like that any better.”

  Liz had been remarkably penitent, but her patience seemed to be wearing out. His was long gone. Eddie’s was waning quickly.

  She thought for a minute. “I’ve come to believe that there are ghosts, angels, witches and probably fairies, in the most unlikely places. You never know when they’re going to show up, exert their influence. It’s all a matter of being open and willing to embrace the unknown, unseen, things we can’t understand but just feel.”

  Mike pushed back his chair and whisked the baby out of the damn room.

  “Look what I found today.” James rested a portrait on the counter, the one of Elisabeth, her mother and her father, standing on the steps of Apthorp.

  Deep inside, Elisabeth gasped. Lord Baxter had genuflected to Edward, admitted defeat, and guided his great-grandson one stop closer to knowing the truth about Elisabeth and why she fled.

  Liz found her tongue. “Elisabeth and Lady Baxter. The originals.”

  James stared at her intently. “You favour her, Liz.”

  Her cheeks burned. “Odd coincidence. I must confess I sought out this place because I run a bed and breakfast in the very house Edward Barrett built for Lady Elisabeth Baxter, his runaway bride. And my finances are no better than yours. But if I am ever in the position to offer any assistance toward the upkeep of this magnificent place, I shall do so.”

  “I suppose that makes us honorary cousins, twice, or is it thrice removed?”

  Liz swallowed hard. “Yes, perhaps you’ll visit us someday and I can repay your hospitality.”

  James’ grin broadcast his delight. “We’d like that. Captain Barrett took her to what was supposed to be a better life in America.” He stroked his beard.

  “Amazing insights to be gained from seeing the house. Is it named?” Emma rested her chin on James shoulder.

  “I call it the Barrett Inn, and yes, it’s full of history–as is Apthorp.” Best to leave it there.

  A horn tooted, and they walked together to the front door.

  “I’ll include an anecdote about this research trip in my book, with photos of Apthorp. Perhaps it will garner you some business. Please, visit me in Massachusetts.”

  Me, it will be just me and Eddie, bankrupt and destitute. She handed James a card and got into the back seat next to Mae, who cradled Eddie on her lap. Mike sat in the front seat, staring straight ahead, sullen. He’d gotten what he’d come for–her.

  Iman closed her door and shook James’s hand.

  Liz turned as they drove away and watched the door close. Elisabeth stirred at the memory of that fateful moment of truth, though realizing she would have fared no better if she’d stayed. Sadness washed over Liz like a gentle surf, smoothing away the ripples of time. Would Elisabeth once again settle into the recesses of her memory?

  She studied her husband’s profile as he watched the road unfold, deep in his own reminiscences. It was time for them to go home, go on, go about their business now that Elisabeth’s business was finished.

  “You sit in first class.” Liz shoved her boarding pass into Mike’s hands.

  “I think Mae deserves it.” He’d been saying the same thing for the last three days, only going along with their plans to make Mae happy.

  Mike didn’t complain about sleeping on a cot, sharing the room with two women and a baby. He passed the time in his own sullen funk, always a few steps behind. The only time he smiled was when Eddie did something cute.

  “I feel guilty.” Mae’s protest was far from forceful.

  “Nonsense. Enjoy.” Liz tucked the boarding pass into her passport.

  “Well at least let me hold the baby.” Mae’s smile belied her delight. “I never imagined I’d ever sit in first class. And the two of you have some talking to do.”

  Liz went to the counter to speak to the agent. If the last few days were any indication, she and Mike would spend seven hours alternating between stony silence and brief episodes of sparring.

  They all got to board early, by benefit of first class and the baby. Mae settled in. Eddie already knew how to plug in the airline headset. God the kid was so cute. And so smart.

  Mike took the aisle seat, after Liz and the person by the window got situated. They couldn’t argue that much with a stranger sitting next to them. Elisabeth seemed to have remained with Edward in the shadows of the gazebo. Could she still be lurking? What was going on in Mike’s head? Was Jared agitated by Edward’s charge–or had it been a challenge?

  Liz tried to get his attention, but Mike closed his eyes, reclined his seat, and turned up the volume on his headset. Liz took his hand. He pulled away.

  How could she go live in his house and give up everything when he was acting like this? She should remain loyal to the man who had married a woman pregnant with another’s child, and treated him as his own son. The man who toiled dawn to dusk to provide for them even though, by rights, he should be comfortably retired sitting by a fire in his living room instead of risking his life on the freezing, heaving Atlantic Ocean.

  The fact his house hadn’t sold last year might be another sign. It wasn’t a romantic Victorian landmark. But the one hundred-year-old colonial was charming, nicely situated, private–and it wasn’t haunted.

  He took off his headset as they served dinner, and she was able to make eye contact.

  “What are we going to do when we get home?”

  Mike picked at the food on the tray then put the cover back on. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going to bed. If you want to stay married, you can pack your things and come on over. If not, you’re on your own.” He stared out the window.

  She whispered in his ear. “How do you know that the ghosts won’t be gone? It seems ...”

  “I have no intention of setting foot in that house again.” He passed his tray to the attendant and put his headset back on.

  She needed to move around, get away. “Excuse me. I’m going to see how Mae and Eddie are doing.”

  Mike took his time getting up to let her pass.

  She had a choice to make, neither of which seemed like the right one.

  Chapter 38

  Kevin acted as if they’d just returned from a pleasant holiday. He waved as they emerged from Customs, hugged them all. Mike helped him load the trunk. If they exchanged m
ore than a handshake, Liz didn’t see or hear it. She and Mae got Eddie secured in the back seat.

  “Marti drove the BMW up this mornin’ and I dropped her back home just now. That was a great idea ya had, Lizzy.” Never one to dwell on what could not be changed, Kevin was ready to get back to some semblance of normal.

  But things would never be the same.

  “So, you’ve been keepin’ busy.” Mae reached over the front seat and patted his back.

  Kevin didn’t answer. The two men spoke in hushed tones all the way home, about nothing in particular: the latest news, weather, and town gossip. Liz couldn’t imagine life without Mae and Kevin, and couldn’t imagine how to tell them what she’d decided.