Brides of Virginia

by Hake, Cathy Marie

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not,” he rasped angrily. “Stop sitting here. Lie down. Da, I’m asking you to go fetch the doctor.”

  “I don’t need a doctor.”

  “Nonsense.” Duncan lifted her and cradled her for an instant to assure himself she’d not really been hurt any other way. “There’s a knot on your head, so you’re not thinking clearly. I want you lying down until the doctor says you can get up.”

  “Then lay her down,” his mother urged.

  “I’m deciding where to put her. She’s cold. Look at how she’s shivering.”

  His father crossed the room. “You left the door open and let in the winter night air. I’m thinking that’s as good a reason as any for the lass to be shivering.” He slammed the door shut.

  Brigit jumped and winced at the noise.

  “I’ll go into town and get the doctor,” his father said, “but I’m yanking on my boots first.”

  Duncan studied Brigit’s features. “Are you seeing double or feelin’ like you might lose your supper?”

  “The only double I’m seeing is that man,” she whispered. “He looks like John Newcomb.”

  Duncan murmured some nonsense to calm her, then settled her back on the settee. He shed his greatcoat and covered her in the depths of its thick, brown folds.

  “You turned into a fine young man, Duncan,” Edward said softly. “You treat a lady well.”

  “At an early age, I saw you do the opposite.” Duncan shot Edward a venomous look. “I learned my lesson from that.”

  Unable to tolerate the sight of the man who had betrayed his loved ones, Duncan strove to contain his temper. He strode to the window and stared sightlessly out into the yard. Since the day he’d learned Edward had duped his sister Anna into a sham marriage and abandoned them, Duncan had longed for justice. In a flash of characteristic honesty, he admitted to himself he wanted more than justice—he wanted revenge.

  “You killed Anna. Aye, you did.” He didn’t turn to make the accusation. “Granted, you never actually plunged a knife into Anna or shot her—but you did worse when you deceived and betrayed her. You left her, knowing she carried your child. Aye, you left her to freeze and starve.

  “Here, in this very cottage, Anna passed on. She passed on shamed to the depths of her soul, her heart broken because she finally learned of your betrayal.”

  The cottage stayed chillingly silent. Finally Edward confessed, “Everything you say is true. I cannot begin to—”

  Duncan’s father slammed his fist into something. “Then say nothing.”

  Duncan clenched his jaw at the wave of sorrow that washed over him. His arms shook with the effort it took to keep his fists at his sides.

  “What more did you plan to take from my family?” he demanded in a low roar of fury. “Haven’t you already done more than enough?”

  “I have.” Edward’s voice carried no challenge. “And I—”

  Duncan wheeled around. “Why? Why did you come back here? And spare me your lies. I’ve had a belly full of them already.”

  “I’ve told more than my share of lies. I came here tonight to try to make right a small portion of my wrongs.”

  “Impossible.”

  “There’s an envelope in my pocket. Read the letter. You’ve nothing to lose by reading it.”

  Duncan’s father jerked the envelope from Edward’s pocket. He strode to the fireplace and almost threw it in, but Edward shouted, “No! Anna’s ring is in there!”

  “Anna’s ring! What were you doing with that? You had no right.” Duncan grabbed the envelope and opened it with a savage rip. He cradled the thin golden band with the tiny ruby chip in his palm. He hadn’t seen it since he was a lad, and the broken promises it represented washed over him. “You put this on her hand with deceit in your heart. You’re not worthy to touch it.”

  “You’re right. I’m not worthy.” Edward bowed his head. “I’m a sinner of the worst sort. I have no excuse for the evil I did, and any apology wouldn’t erase the wounds I inflicted.”

  Duncan’s mother stopped dabbing at the bump on Brigit’s temple. “Then why did you come back?”

  “Because God sought this lost sheep. I’m in the fold of Christ now—bought by His precious blood. Only now can I look back and admit the wrongs I’ve done.” He shook his head and sighed. “Anna loved me with all her heart.”

  “Aye, and you broke that sweet heart of hers,” Duncan bellowed.

  “I did. I’m ashamed of that. Though the Lord has forgiven me, I don’t ask it of you. I have no right. I’ve come to realize what a treasure I had and gave up in Anna.”

  Father moaned. Mama sniffled.

  Duncan glowered. “Some new leaf you turned over. You found another lass, teamed up, and stole. So tell me now who you had in the house as your accomplice.”

  “I have no accomplice.” Edward shook his head. “I sneaked into the house. There are passageways built in the walls where I’ve hidden. I discovered them when I was a boy. I took the things I’d given Anna—not so I could keep them, but because I’ve had replicas made of them. I wanted to have reminders of her.”

  “You don’t deserve—”

  “I don’t. But it wasn’t a matter of justice. I wanted to ensure Timothy would get the ring; and while I was looking for it, I happened across some of Anna’s other things. I found I longed for a touchstone—memories of the few times in my life when I’d been happy. She did make me happy, Duncan. I gave back everything I took.”

  “You’re a liar. You took more than just Anna’s things, and you kept back this ring.” He held out his hand to display the unmistakable evidence.

  Edward cleared his throat. “I took the other things so you wouldn’t notice a pattern. I gave them all back, except the ring. The letter is written to Timothy. I wanted him to have the ring, hoping someday he’d be able to give it to his sweetheart. The joy on Anna’s face when I put that ring on her finger—I want my son to see that same joy on a girl’s face someday.”

  “Tim’s an honorable man. When he weds, it will be a true marriage, and he’ll provide and protect as a husband should.”

  “That knowledge pleases me. I pray my son turns out better than I did.”

  Duncan sucked in a deep breath. Edward wasn’t saying a word in his own defense. He clamped his teeth against the vile things that wanted to spill out, then unfolded the letter.

  My son Timothy,

  It’s a sad day when a father’s first words to his son are an apology and come only after the boy has already grown into his manhood. You deserved better.

  I’m only now writing this, not contacting you in person because I gave up any right to you when I abandoned your mother. I was a sinner of the worst sort. Anna was an innocent, and her very goodness drew me to her. She gave me her heart, and she pledged her love. It shames me to say I took all she so freely gave, then left her.

  God took Anna home, and I knew about you. Though I acted hard-hearted, I felt such deep shame that I wanted you spared my influence. Emily and John had fallen in love, and I knew they’d rear you far better than I could. All these years you thought I’d spurned you; the truth is, leaving you was the one sacrificial act of my life. Seeing the young man you’ve become gives me peace about that decision.

  My conscience has haunted me all these years. The Holy Spirit wouldn’t allow me ease. God, our Good Shepherd, sought me. He untangled me from the brambles of bad living and redeemed me by the blood of the Lamb.

  Two years have passed, and my walk with the Lord has deepened. I came to a point where I knew that though I’d been forgiven, I still had to make restitution for my wrongs.

  When I left, John told me I’d be welcomed back if I got right with God. I came back fully intending to be a prodigal brother. That night, though, I heard you in the garden, pouring your heart out to Duncan. I realized then that I couldn’t return home because the cost of my reunion would be far too great, and you would be the one to bear it.


  I deserve nothing. Still, over the years, I’ve come to realize the days I shared with your mother were the sweetest of my life. Looking back, I now know I loved her—as much as a selfish, evil man could. The one thing I wanted for you is the legacy of love Anna carried in her heart. The day I put this ring on her finger, she glowed. By all rights it should be yours to give to your sweetheart someday. Let it always remind you of the constancy of unconditional love.

  I wronged you and am worthy of your resentment and hatred. There are no words to say how sorry I am. Forgiveness is a sacred thing, something only God or His children can grant. I was unworthy of His mercy; yet He granted absolution. My sins were cast into the depths of the sea. Timothy, you will sail those seas. It is my hope that you will not let my sorrows and sins burden you and cause your spirits to sink.

  Anna is with the Lord; and by the Savior’s mercy, I’ll see her in heaven someday. It is my prayer you will serve God and live a rich, full life, so I can finally see you face-to-face in paradise.

  Edward Timothy Newcomb

  Duncan finished reading the letter aloud.

  “I want nothing from you,” Edward said softly. “I just wanted to leave the letter and ring here. I’ve made a life for myself—one that is full, save the fact that it is lonely. Wealth, I’ve discovered, is empty when love is absent. I’ve set up an account for Timothy, and he’s named as my sole heir.”

  “Your money willna mean a thing to the lad,” Duncan’s mother whispered tearfully.

  “I don’t expect it will. It’s all I have to leave him though.”

  Brigit was trying to muffle her sobs. Duncan strode over to her. The poor lass looked woozy and overwhelmed. He shouldn’t have allowed her to stay in the room and witness this private business, but it was too late now.

  “Ah, Brigit.” He pulled a kerchief from his pocket and dabbed at her cheeks. “Your poor head. It must be aching something fierce.”

  “’Tisn’t that at all. It’s none of my business, but it’s all so verra tragic.”

  “You’ve such a tender heart. I’m sorry—”

  “I’m sorry, too.” She clutched his hand. “I’ve read the newspapers and heard people talking about a coming war where brother would fight against brother. The war already came to this family. ’tis more than enough to break my heart.”

  Duncan let out a deep sigh. “There’s already been enough hurt, hasn’t there?”

  Brigit nodded. The action made her draw in a sharp breath and close her eyes. Her grip tightened as more tears seeped from beneath her lashes. The sight of it made Duncan want to roar, but she whispered, “He’s not defending his reprehensible actions. He called himself a sinner and confessed.”

  “Stop fretting over that now. You’re hurting.”

  Her eyes opened, and a touch of a smile tugged at her lips. “It would take far more than a mere bump to bother a hardheaded lass like me, Duncan O’Brien. Go pay attention to the important things.”

  “I am.”

  Her brows puckered. “What are you planning to do about him?”

  Arguing with her wouldn’t accomplish anything, and he did need to make some hefty decisions. “This has knocked the wind out of my sails. I need some time alone to pray.” He turned loose of her hand and tunneled his arms beneath her. “Let me carry you into the other room. My mother will stay with you. Da will go fetch the doctor.”

  Once he was alone in the room again with Edward, Duncan didn’t feel ready to talk. He knelt by the fire and whispered, “Father, he’s done such awful things.”

  “They’re all forgiven.”

  “He killed our Anna. Tim’s been without a father.”

  “Anna is with Me. I’m Tim’s eternal Father, and I gave him John so he’d have a godly man as his example. You are there for Tim, too. Will you teach him bitterness and vengeance, or mercy and grace?”

  “How can I forgive Edward? I’ve carried hate in my heart for him all these years. I didn’t think I had, but I have. Seeing him here brought back everything.”

  “Forgive him as I forgive you, My son.”

  Time passed; and for every thought and protest Duncan had, God met him at the point of his hurt.

  Slowly Duncan stood to his feet. He went to Edward. “Knots aren’t just things in ropes. They’re in hearts and souls and memories.” He took a knife from the table. “I don’t want to be bound by them any longer.” He sawed through the rope. “God’s grace and mercy go with you, Edward.”

  Chapter 21

  Absence doesn’t just make the heart grow fonder—it makes me a bit crazy. Duncan stood in the entryway and scanned the stairs and open doorways, hoping for the impossible: to catch Brigit. The doctor had ordered that she stay in bed for a few days due to the bump on her head; and once those days were up, she had come back to the big house. John had insisted on making a personal apology and escorting her back himself. Duncan felt more than a little surly about that second fact. He’d looked forward to having at least a few minutes to walk with Brigit and speak to her privately.

  It’s been nigh unto a week, and I’ve seen only that woman’s back as she scurries off. I saw more of her when I had her living with Da and Mama.

  Oh—evidence of her presence surrounded him. The scent of her perfume lingered in rooms. Swags of pine and holly she’d made festooned the house both inside and out. Ribbons and wreaths had always been a tradition, but this year they abounded. The twins spent hours on end at the piano, plinking out the simple melodies to two Christmas carols Brigit had taught them. Duncan wanted to enjoy the holidays before he set sail. It was difficult to though. Each time he tried to get near Brigit, she slipped away. It used to be that he couldn’t avoid her. Then he’d needed to make a bit of effort to stop by his folks’ each day to check on her and enjoy her company. Now that she was back in the main house, he could barely find her.

  Emily didn’t help one speck either. Just about the time Duncan would locate Brigit and approach her, Emily would call her away or send someone to summon her with a ridiculous matter that was “urgent.”

  “Emily.” He closed the parlor door, shutting his sister in. “We need to talk.”

  “Very well.” She handed him a tiny key and pointed toward the window seat. “Open that. I have something I need to hide in there.”

  He removed the pink-and-cream-striped cushion and unlocked the hinged lid. “What is this all about?”

  Emily laughed. “Since the first year I married John, I’ve used this as my hiding place for Christmas gifts. It’s the one place nobody ever bothers. John bought Timothy a sextant, and I need to tuck this in before someone finds it. We thought that was a fitting gift for him this year. Don’t you agree?”

  Duncan didn’t bother to open the handsomely carved wooden box to admire the piece. He’d let Tim have the honors, then speak his praises on Christmas. “You always make fine choices.” After he took care of that matter, Duncan sat Emily down and held her hands in his. “Em, I want you to stop interfering.”

  “Inter—”

  “Don’t you dare try to play innocent. I know you far too well.”

  She huffed. “You’re impossible to please. You told me you weren’t ready to settle into marriage and insisted I cease what you called the ‘petticoat parade.’ Well, I have, and now you’re not satisfied.”

  “You look entirely too pleased with yourself,” he muttered. “I am consistent. I’ve told you not to interfere, that I’d choose my own wife.”

  “Wife?” Emily gave him an innocent look.

  Duncan squeezed her hands and let go. “You’d try the patience of a saint, Em. I’ve made up my mind, and I’m going to win Brigit’s heart. I can’t very well do it if you keep hindering me. Stop helping her get away from me.”

  Patting her slippered foot on the floor, Emily gave him an impish smile. “It took you long enough. How many unsuitable lasses did I have to march past you before you finally figured out the perfect woman was under our verra roof?”

  “You
were trying to match me with Brigit all along?”

  “Isn’t it just the funniest thing in the world?” Emily smoothed her skirts. “You’re so very much like my John—you live in a gentleman’s world, but you work with a rowdy crew. Brigit comes from a fine family. They eventually lost everything due to the famine, and she’s been supporting her parents by working here.”

  Duncan moaned.

  “Aye, Duncan boy-o. She’s well educated and cultured, but she never once minded putting her hand to any task—however small or dirty it might be. She’d been here only two days ere I wondered if she’d be the one for you. The night you and she shared that tea party with the twins, I knew your future was assured. I even took Brigit aside that night for a pot of tea and found out more about her. While you were busy denying the truth, I was getting to know my future sister-in-law.”

  “If you were so certain, why did you keep shoving those other women at me?”

  “Contrast. It was simple contrast.” Emily gave him a mysterious smile. “It’s taken you far too long to see the jewel that was right under your nose.”

  “Then stop delaying it further. I have a plan. You can help me.”

  Brigit knew Duncan’s new vessel was finished. Emily planned a christening the day after Christmas, and the ship would then go on her maiden voyage. That day couldn’t come fast enough.

  He’d thought her guilty. Aye, he had. Once she’d gotten a chance to think back, Brigit came to the galling realization that Duncan had been doing everything he could to set her up and capture her—he’d been trying to charm her, make her feel safe. He’d shared in her tea party and piano lesson with the twins. He’d discussed books—oh. Her heart twisted at the memory of how he’d toyed with her. He’d asked her about what punishment was appropriate for a thief!

  And to think she’d actually fancied him a bit. That stung even worse. She’d given him her trust, and he’d barged right into every activity he could to find her weaknesses. The man was a scoundrel.