The Daughters of Winston Barnett

by Dara Girard

"I can't go into detail, he's a very private man, but he told me he saved him from marrying some deacon's daughter."

  Janet swallowed hard and yanked a blade of grass from the ground. "And did he give a reason why his friend needed to be saved?"

  "Sort of. Jeffrey wanted to marry this woman but Frederick didn't approve."

  "I see." But she didn't see. She couldn't understand how Frederick thought he had the right to ruin her sister's chance at happiness.

  "Janet, are you all right?"

  Janet abruptly stood. "I'm getting a headache." She strapped on her helmet then picked up her bike. "Do you mind if we go back?" Janet climbed on her bike and sped away.

  * * *

  When Janet stormed into the house, Valerie met her at the front door. "You won't believe who's here."

  "I can honestly say I don't care."

  "You will when I tell you. It's Durand. He's been waiting for the last thirty minutes just to talk to you."

  Janet headed for the stairs. "I don't want to see him."

  "But what am I supposed to say?" Valerie said anxious. "You have to see him, he knows you're here. I can't send him home and I can't lie to him."

  Janet gripped the railing but didn't turn.

  "Please? For me? I have to live here and he's a guest in my home."

  Janet took a deep breath, harnessed her anger then calmly walked into the living room.

  Chapter 31

  Frederick got up when she entered, but Janet walked past him, as though he were a piece of furniture and sat in the armchair facing him. "You wanted to see me?"

  He sat. "Yes."

  She crossed her legs and swung her foot impatient. "About what?"

  "I would like to discuss something very important with you."

  Janet stood unable to look at him any longer. "Well, we'll have to do it outside. I promised Valerie I would trim some of her bushes." Janet left the room before he could object and marched into the garden. She pulled on a pair of Valerie's gardening gloves then grabbed a large pair of pruning shears and headed for the rose bushes.

  "Valerie keeps a beautiful garden," Frederick said.

  Janet viciously snipped off a branch. "Yes." She attacked the bush with such vengeance that it seemed to tremble under her assault.

  Frederick frowned. "Are you sure you should prune that much?"

  "You wanted to talk to me about something?" She chopped off the head of one of the roses. It fell to the ground as though it had been decapitated.

  Frederick stood on the opposite side of the bush hoping to get her attention. "I came here initially to tell you about an art exhibit I thought you might like, but it doesn't seem important anymore."

  Janet let the shears fall to her side and looked up at him. "And what is important?" When she saw him pull a small black box from his coat pocket she nearly laughed at the absurdity of her thoughts. "Let me guess. You came here to ask me to marry you because despite how different our worlds are you've fallen in love with me."

  He stared at her amazed. "How did you know?"

  "What?"

  "I knew we were of the same mind but this borders on telepathic. I've been carrying this ring in my pocket for days and you knew it all along."

  Janet sent him a wary look. "Knew what?"

  Frederick held his hands out in helpless surrender. "The fact that I love you." He placed a hand on his chest. "I am hopelessly and deeply in love with you." He shook his head amazed by his own declaration. "Saying these words to you is completely out of character for me, but I can't help myself. I know that our lives are as different as the sun is from the moon, your family is not the sort I typically associate with and you're not even the type of woman I'd usually consider. But that doesn't matter.

  "My family probably won't approve of you because of your background and upbringing. But I don't care. In spite of an ocean of contrast between us, I hope my love for you will bridge that gap. Janet, I want you to marry me."

  Janet slapped the shears against her palm and stared down at them. A rose petal stuck to one of the blades. She slowly raised her eyes and looked at him. "I'm sorry. I—"

  He shook his head. "There's no need to apologize. I know it's amazing. I listed all the reasons why I shouldn't marry you and it was a long list. I could've filled pages. I thought about all the people I would be disappointing and struggled with my feelings but nothing helped. Nothing could override my love for you. So, I accepted my fate and here I am."

  "Yes," she said in a flat tone. "Here you are." Janet brushed the petal off the blade. She looked up at him. "But you must let me apologize. I am sorry that your thoughts about me have caused you pain. I had no idea. And I hope that you will quickly forget everything you just said. I am also sorry that you wasted your money on a ring. But most of all I'm sorry that you asked me to marry you thinking that I'd say yes."

  Frederick stared at her as if she'd just spit in his face. "That's it?"

  "What more do you want me to say? I think I've made myself clear." Janet tossed down her shears and walked towards the back of the garden.

  He followed her. "Not clear enough. A man doesn't bare his heart to a woman so she can stomp on it. I need to know why."

  Janet stopped and stared at him. She yanked off her gloves and slapped them hard against her thigh. "I also have an extensive list of why I would never marry you. One being the fact that I just learned that you're the reason Jeffrey Farmer dumped my sister."

  He blinked.

  "Do you deny it?"

  "No I don't. Why would I? I didn't see that relationship going anywhere. I could see that your sister liked him, but she also liked Brother Jerome and I assume, any other man who pays attention to her."

  Janet trembled with outrage. "What?"

  "She seems to be a very sweet girl, but I never saw her do anything to show that she liked Jeffrey more than anyone else. Besides, their personalities are too different. Their aspirations are worlds apart." He threw up his hand. "It seems I was more correct in my analysis of his situation than I was of mine."

  "She was hospitalized for an entire week because of your self-righteous meddling."

  Frederick's jaw twitched. "I'm sorry to hear that, but I had no choice. I was only thinking of my friend's happiness."

  Janet spun away from him, marched up to a small tree and pulled off a dead leaf. "At the expense of hers!" She took a deep breath then faced him and hit the gloves against her palm as though she were applauding him. "Congratulations, you saved your friend from a terrible fate. But I'm sure you don't need any congratulations. You're already very proud of how you take care of your friends. But aside from ruining my sister's happiness, there's another reason why I hate you." She saw a flicker of pain in his eyes, but didn't care. She reveled in the power of saying the word. "Yes, hate." She rested her hands on her hips. "Your treatment of Russell Wilcox was and is despicable and validates what I think of you."

  Frederick lifted a branch. "I see you're eager to believe anything that man says."

  "I believe the facts he told me."

  He lowered the branch and shook his head in disgust. "What facts?"

  "He told me of his suffering and how you stole his inheritance from him. How you attacked him." She held out her arm. "He showed me his scar. The one you gave him."

  "Yes," Frederick said his voice low with venom. "I gave him that scar and if he hadn't moved his arm I would have gotten his heart."

  "And probably eaten it like a cannibal."

  Frederick turned away.

  His silence angered her more. "He's done nothing but kind things for my family. I have yet to come across a more selfless, more caring man. While you —you have broken my sister's heart and treated my family with nothing but contempt and disdain."

  He shot her a glance. "No, I haven't."

  "You just told me that my family is 'not the sort you typically associate with' as if they were beneath you. You then tell me that I am not the type of woman you usually like and that you're disappointi
ng your family with your choice. What do you expect me to say?"

  "Did you want me to lie? I thought you were above the simple art of flattery."

  "You didn't even try."

  "I was being honest. I thought you'd appreciate how I felt and all I had to think about. That's just how I am."

  "Yes, and I can't stand you. I think you're arrogant, resentful, proud and barbaric. You may consider yourself above others, but I think you're lower than dirt." Janet stepped towards him and dropped her voice. "The first moment I saw you, it took me only five minutes to decide that you were the last man on God's green earth I would ever marry."

  Frederick held up his hand. "Okay. You've made yourself perfectly clear." He took a step back eager to leave. "Don't worry. I'll never bother you again." He turned and left.

  Janet watched him go then stumbled over to a stone bench and sank down in shock. She wished she could laugh at the absurdity of it all, but she couldn't. He'd wanted to marry her? How could that be? It was too ridiculous to be true.

  Valerie raced up to her. "I just saw Durand leave. What did he want to talk to you about?"

  Janet stared at the mutilated rosebush. "It was a misunderstanding," she said in a soft voice. "Nothing important."

  * * *

  Frederick burst into the Amsted house and headed for the stairs, but stopped when Mrs. Amsted said his name.

  "Frederick is that you?" she called again from the solarium.

  He briefly shut his eyes, gripping his hands into fists, and composed himself before he faced her.

  "I've been working with Stephens on where to put my portrait." She turned to him. "So how did it go?"

  His expression gave nothing away, his voice remained neutral. "I was right. She doesn't like me."

  "I knew she might be backwards but I didn't believe she was imbecilic. What do you mean she doesn't like you?"

  "She said no."

  "Did she say why?"

  He took a step back and jerked his head to the stairs. "I need to take Milton on his walk."

  Mrs. Amsted took a step towards him, her voice rising. "How could she refuse you? Perhaps she didn't understand the question."

  "She understood it."

  Mrs. Amsted spun around to Stephens and gestured to the portrait in anger. "Get rid of it at once."

  "No," Frederick said. "How she feels about me doesn't... She still..." He stopped then tried again. "It's an excellent portrayal of you."

  "But Frederick—"

  "I don't want to talk about her again." He took another step back. "Now I'll take Milton on his walk."

  Mrs. Amsted watched him leave feeling as if her heart were breaking. Daphne came in looking worried. "What's wrong with Frederick? He walked right past me as if I wasn't there."

  She looked at her daughter. She didn't want to share his pain. His proposal would remain a secret. "It's business."

  "What should I do with the painting?" Stephens asked.

  Mrs. Amsted glared at the image. She'd encouraged Frederick to take a risk and the girl had made a fool of her. She'd never forgive Janet for replacing the sorrow in his eyes with anguish. "Put that thing in a place where I'll never see it."

  * * *

  Frederick walked to the local park, which was over two miles away, but he didn't notice. He couldn't erase Janet's words from his mind. They echoed as though she'd shouted them in a cave and pierced him as if she'd laced each word with poison.

  She'd refused him. Not with embarrassment or apology, but with vehemence. She thought he was "lower than dirt." "Barbaric." Him. Frederick Durand—A man who had parents lining up their daughters to marry him. She didn't just dislike him, she hated him. She didn't just hate his actions, she hated him.

  Fine. Let her believe what she wanted to about him. Why should he have to explain himself? He'd never had to before. He was used to doing what he wanted without argument. He'd been the youngest prefect in his boarding school and had commanded respect and loyalty. If he wanted someone to do something, they did it. They never asked why.

  Frederick stopped and looked at the lake and the ripples that Milton created as he lapped up water. He hung his head and clasped his hand behind his neck. No. He had to defend himself. He had to challenge her accusations and rectify his reputation. She may never love him or like him, but he wanted her to understand him.

  * * *

  "Mrs. Amsted wants to see you," Valerie said in an excited whispered when she entered Janet's room.

  Janet lay on her bed and pulled the pillow over her head. "Tell her I have a headache."

  "That won't be necessary," Mrs. Amsted said. "This won't take long."

  Janet lifted her head. "You wanted to see me?"

  Mrs. Amsted looked at Valerie. "Do you have a place that's more private?"

  "Yes. The attic."

  She waited. Valerie got the hint then led the way. Janet reluctantly followed. Once they'd reached the attic Valerie left them alone and shut the door. Janet took a seat. Mrs. Amsted did not.

  "Frederick told me about his visit here today. No, you don't have to speak. I don't care about anything you have to say."

  Janet crossed her legs and swung her foot.

  Mrs. Amsted lifted her nose as if she smelled a foul odor. "I don't know who you think you are, but it's obvious you don't know the man you've just rejected. He's one of the finest young men I've ever known. I'm glad this news will get no further than us. I wouldn't want anyone to know that he stooped so low as to ask a high minded nobody to marry him. He wouldn't have asked you if I hadn't encouraged him and I resent that immensely."

  "You don't know—"

  "I know that you deserve to stay in your little town, with your little friends and have your talks about your little thoughts and not venture out into the real world, which you know nothing about. You are talented but not wise. You can't discern quality from charm. And you deserve any heartbreak you get." She walked to the door. "I wish you no success and I hope never to see you again." She opened the door and left.

  "The feeling is mutual," Janet muttered. She went to the window and watched Mrs. Amsted get into her car. Her words stung, but Janet brushed them aside because she knew Mrs. Amsted didn't know who Frederick really was. Just like Karen and Tanya and Jeffrey, she was blind to the beast underneath the money and prestige. But Janet knew the real man and felt proud of her decision.

  "What was that all about?" Valerie asked behind her.

  "She wanted to talk about art."

  * * *

  A fierce spring rain pounded against the windows as Janet waited for her ride to the station.

  "I wish we could take you," Valerie said.

  Janet looked at the sky darkened by clouds. "It's not your fault I'm leaving a day early. You had other plans. At least Daphne can take me."

  "Yes, cheaper than a taxi." She paused. "So you still haven't changed your mind?"

  Janet shook her head then peered through the rain. "I think I see her car." She turned to her friend and hugged her. "It was great to see you."

  "The same."

  Janet picked up her luggage and opened the door.

  Frederick stood there.

  Her mouth fell open. "Where's Daphne?"

  Valerie pushed Janet aside and opened the door wider. "You're getting soaked, Durand. Come inside."

  He stepped in and pushed back the hood of his mackintosh. "Daphne had an emergency. I'll take you." He noticed her luggage in the hallway and picked them up. "The car's open." He pushed his hood up and dashed back outside.

  Janet didn't move.

  Valerie nudged her. "I know you don't like him, but don't keep him waiting."

  Janet reluctantly opened her umbrella and stepped outside. Sheets of rain fell around her, deafening any other sound. She stopped then turned to her friend. "Pray for me," she mouthed.

  "Always."

  Janet steeled herself then got into the car with the man she'd never wanted to see again.

  * * *

  T
he car felt like a tomb—Dark and cramped. Janet fiddled with the air vent and seatbelt, wishing she could roll down the window. The rain sounded like golf balls as it bounced off the roof.

  "I need to talk to you," Frederick said as he merged onto the highway. He held up his hand to wave off any protest. "Don't worry. I won't bring up the subject I mentioned before. I told you I would never bring it up again. I want to forget about it as much as you do. But I can't let you leave without knowing the truth about me. You said you had many reasons for hating me and listed two: my role in persuading Jeffrey not to marry your sister and my dealings with Russell Wilcox. I want to defend myself against both accusations."

  Janet watched the windshield wipers move back and forth.

  "First, I want to tell you about my involvement with Jeffrey and Beverly. The decision wasn't done callously. I saw how your sister captured Jeffrey's heart. But I was not surprised. I've seen him in love before. However, it was at the dedication and later at Valerie's wedding that my apprehension of Beverly's true feelings emerged. I watched and saw that she was friendly, but she was no friendlier to him than she was to his sisters or anyone else she was with.

  "Obviously, you know your sister better than I do, and I am sorry that I misjudged her feelings, but I made my assessment based on what I saw. I didn't want to see it, but to me it was clear. She is a very beautiful young woman used to men's attention. I didn't think Jeffrey had a chance of happiness with someone who could as easily marry him or any other man. I also know that your ways in Hamsford are different than I'm used to and that was another concern I had.

  "Jeffrey returned to Hamsford after seeing a lot of the world and I was afraid that your sister wouldn't fit easily into his new life. I apologize, in advance, if I offend you, but I have to speak honestly." He altered the wipers to go faster. "I also objected to your mother's loud announcement of her daughter's conquest to marry a Farmer, your middle sister's habit of demanding attention, your two younger sisters' propensity to flirt with anyone of the male gender and, I hate to say this, your father's lack of observation of what was going on around him."

  Janet sat rigid, pressing her foot against the floor in hopes that the car would move faster.