Shine Like the Dawn

by Carrie Turansky

  “We?” Maggie’s heart lifted. “You believe me?”

  “Maggie, this is a serious matter. I want to find out the truth as much as you do.”

  “Even if it means your stepmother may go to jail?”

  “If Helen is responsible for the deaths of your parents and sister, then she needs to be held accountable to the full extent of the law.”

  Maggie’s chest swelled. “Thank you.”

  “I haven’t done anything yet.” He reached for her hand. “But I promise I won’t rest until we know what happened and who is responsible.”

  She squeezed his hand, hoping that would convey what she couldn’t say.

  “Stay at Morningside, Maggie. Let’s work on this together.”

  She looked into his eyes and wanted to say yes, but the memory of her prayer with Grandmother rose in her mind. She had sensed they should return to the village, but that was before she knew Nate believed her suspicions were justified. Surely now that he was willing to help her find out what truly happened, it made sense for them to stay. Nate would watch out for them, and with his help they’d find the proof they needed.

  Ignoring the gentle tug on her heart, she smiled up at him. “All right. We’ll stay.”

  Maggie pushed her peas around on her plate, then adjusted her linen napkin on her lap—anything to avoid looking at Helen. But with only four people seated around the dining room table, it was a challenge.

  Violet could not wait until eight o’clock for dinner, so she and Grandmother usually ate earlier, then settled in for a quiet evening in their room while Maggie joined Nate, Clara, and Helen in the dining room.

  It was one of the loveliest rooms in the house, with two sparkling chandeliers, a beautifully carved marble fireplace, and several remarkable paintings. But Maggie found it difficult to enjoy the room or her meal when Helen watched her with a critical eye and excluded her from most of the conversations.

  Dinner was quickly becoming Maggie’s least favorite meal of the day.

  Helen took a sip of her water and glanced down the table. “Clara, I received a reply from the dressmaker today.”

  Clara looked up, her expression vague. “What?”

  “I said, Mrs. Dowling wrote. Apparently she is busy sewing for a family in Newcastle upon Tyne and won’t be able to come for two weeks.” Helen lifted her eyes to the ceiling, and her lips puckered. “I don’t know why I continue to do business with that woman.”

  “You’ve always said she is the best dressmaker in Northumberland,” Clara replied.

  “She is, but I told her about your father’s passing and that we needed her to come immediately. I don’t understand why she’s putting us off like this.”

  “It sounds like she has a commitment to the people in Newcastle upon Tyne.”

  “That is no excuse! We are in mourning. What does she expect me to do while we wait for her to arrive? How can I continue to receive callers when I only have three mourning dresses?” Helen’s strident tone made Maggie cringe.

  Clara shot an embarrassed glance at Maggie, then looked at her mother again. “Why don’t we go to Heatherton and visit one of the dressmakers there?”

  Helen pulled back with wide eyes. “We can’t do that. Their skills are not nearly on the same level as Mrs. Dowling’s. Everyone would know, and once word spread that we had our dresses made by a village seamstress, we’d be outcasts of society.”

  “Really, Mother, I don’t think anyone—”

  “That’s enough, Clara!” Helen’s glare grew icy. “You are not old enough to understand, but it is important to dress in a manner equal to our position.”

  Clara’s cheeks flushed, and she turned her face away, obviously embarrassed by her mother’s scolding.

  Nate sent Maggie an apologetic glance. She returned the same and wished she could do more to express her understanding and sympathy. It seemed he disliked dining with his stepmother as much as she did.

  Helen pushed her plate to the side. “Jackson, take this away. We’re finished with this course.”

  The butler stepped forward and quickly removed her plate while the footman removed Clara’s.

  Lilly appeared at the dining room door with a piece of paper in her hand. She motioned to Jackson, and the butler’s eyes widened. He set the plate on the sideboard and crossed to the door. “What is it?” he hissed.

  “This message arrived for Mr. Harcourt. The man said it was urgent and he should read it right away.” Lilly kept her voice low, but Maggie could still hear her clearly. Lilly handed the note to Jackson and stepped out of view.

  The butler returned to the table and silently handed the note to Nate.

  “Excuse me.” Nate unfolded it and scanned the message. A smile broke out across his face. “Yes!”

  “Well? What is so urgent?” Helen demanded, obviously not pleased by the interruption.

  “Mr. Judson has agreed to meet with the workers from Clifton.” Nate looked up and met Maggie’s gaze. “He’s the fifth member of the board to approve the plan. That gives us the number we need to hold the meeting.”

  Maggie’s smile spread wider. “That’s wonderful.”

  “Yes, and we have four more days to convince the others to join us.”

  “Do you think they will?”

  “Mr. Rowlett will be the most difficult to persuade, but now that Mr. Judson is convinced, I’d say we have a much better chance.” He laid the note on the table and focused on Maggie. “But holding the meeting with the men is only the first step. The board members must truly listen to the workers’ grievances and be willing to negotiate. That’s the only way we’ll be able to avoid a strike.”

  Helen’s nose wrinkled as though she’d smelled something offensive. “Nathaniel, you know how much I dislike hearing business talk at the dinner table. It’s not appropriate conversation.”

  Nate scooted back from the table. “Very well, then you’ll have to excuse me.” He turned to Maggie. “Shall we continue our conversation in the library?”

  Helen’s face turned blotchy red. “But you haven’t had your pudding!”

  Maggie pressed her lips together, barely able to hold back her laughter.

  “That’s true,” Nate continued, “but I’m not really in the mood for pudding this evening.”

  Maggie stood. “Neither am I, but thank you for dinner. I hope you enjoy your pudding.”

  “Excuse us.” Nate touched Maggie’s back, guiding her away from the table.

  “Nathaniel, how can you be so rude!” Helen’s voice followed them as they walked toward the door. “I don’t know why I even bother coming down. I should have my dinner sent up to my room on a tray.”

  “Oh, Mother, there’s no need to be so dramatic,” Clara added in a tired voice.

  “He shows no respect for me, none at all. I am the hostess. I should be the one to decide when we’re finished and when we pass through to the drawing room…”

  Maggie and Nate continued into the great hall, and he pulled the door closed, blocking out Helen’s voice.

  He turned to Maggie. “I’m glad we finally had a reason to leave.”

  Her heart warmed, and she returned his smile. “So am I.”

  “Let’s go into the library. There should be a nice fire, and we can have Jackson bring in some coffee when he’s done in the dining room.”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  He reached for her hand as though it was the most natural thing. Surprise and pleasure traveled through her. She dipped her head but curled her fingers around his as they walked into the library.

  The connection between them was growing stronger, and the walls around her heart were coming down. She had trusted him with her secret suspicions, and he had believed her and committed himself to joining her in her search for the truth. That meant the world to her.

  How could she not fall in love with a man like that?

  Lilly carried the basket of clean laundry up the back stairs, her mind miles away with Rob and his family
and their troubles—and she couldn’t forget about the fire and how her father and brother were battling to rebuild their shop on a meager budget. Overshadowing it all was the threat of a strike and what that would mean for everyone she loved.

  Her steps felt leaden as she walked down the hall. She tried to push away her worries, but the unknown future seemed to loom before her like a dark path leading into a forest with no end in sight.

  She knocked on Maggie’s door and listened for a reply, then she stepped inside and balanced the basket against her hip as she turned to close the door.

  Maggie sprang up from her chair. “Let me help you.”

  “I’ve got it.” Lilly bumped the door with her other hip, and it swung closed. “I have some clean laundry for you.”

  Maggie reached for the basket. “Thank you, Lilly. I’ll put it away. You’ve done enough.”

  Lilly released the basket to her friend.

  Maggie set it on the bed, took out her undergarments and stockings, and tucked them into a dresser drawer. “I still don’t feel right about you doing our laundry.”

  “Oh, I just brought it up. Agnes does all the laundry.”

  “Well, I appreciate it. Would you pass our thanks on to Agnes?”

  Lilly nodded and glanced toward the window, her worries rushing back to fill her mind again.

  “Lilly? Are you all right?”

  Lilly pressed her lips together and nodded, but her eyes smarted and burned.

  Maggie crossed toward her. “What is it?”

  She pulled in a shaky breath. “I shouldn’t bother you with my troubles. You have enough of your own.”

  “It’s no bother. You always listen to me. Now it’s my turn.” Maggie took Lilly’s hand and led her to the window seat. Then she patted the spot next to her. “Sit down and tell me what’s happened.”

  Lilly settled on the window seat next to Maggie and pulled in a shaky breath. “I’m worried about Rob. His father’s hand is healing, but he won’t be able to go back to work, and that means Rob is the only one bringing any money home. And I’m afraid he’s listening to the men who want to strike.”

  Maggie’s eyebrows dipped, and she searched Lilly’s face.

  Lilly looked down. “He was in the crowd that day the men marched through the village and surrounded Mr. Harcourt’s motorcar.”

  Maggie’s eyes widened. “Really? I never saw him.”

  “He was there. He said he had to go along or the other men would call him a coward.”

  Maggie patted her hand. “It’s hard to take a stand against others who are older and have more influence.”

  “What if they vote to strike? What will Mr. Harcourt and the other owners do to the men? And what if the strike goes on for a long time? How will they buy food and pay their rent? I could help a little, but it won’t be nearly enough.”

  “Nate and Reverend Samuelson are working hard to bring the two sides together. Remember that note you brought to the dining room last night?”

  Lilly nodded, remembering the family’s reaction.

  “That was word that another member of the board has agreed to join Nate’s efforts to resolve matters. They’re going to hold a meeting soon to discuss the men’s grievances.”

  Lilly sat up straighter, her hopes rising. “Do you think they can work out their differences in time to stop the strike?”

  “Nate is hopeful. He’s been looking into the company’s finances and procedures, and he believes there is room for negotiation if both sides are willing.”

  Lilly clasped her hands together. “Oh, I wish there was something I could do besides wait and worry.”

  “Well, you don’t have a choice about waiting, but you can choose if you’ll worry or not.” Maggie’s words were gentle, but they nudged Lilly’s conscience.

  Lilly ducked her head. “I know I shouldn’t worry. I’ve struggled with that all my life.”

  Maggie slipped her arm around Lilly’s shoulders. “You’re not alone. I’ve had a hard time with worry myself, but that doesn’t mean we have to give in to it. We can choose to focus on what’s true and trustworthy and refuse those anxious thoughts when they come.” She sent Lilly an encouraging smile.

  Lilly pondered that for a moment. “I suppose you’re right. We need to pray and trust God instead of worrying.”

  Maggie nodded. “That’s the spirit.”

  “Thank you for listening.” Lilly rose. “I should get back to work. Mrs. Burnell has a whole list of duties waiting for me.”

  Maggie reached for Lilly’s arm. “Before you go, I wanted you to know I told Nate everything.”

  Lilly’s eyes widened, and she gulped in a breath. “You told him I took Mrs. Harcourt’s diary?”

  “No! I said I’d read it, but I never mentioned your part in it.”

  Lilly blew out a relieved breath. “What did he say?”

  “He agreed to help me search for the truth. We’re going to speak to Mr. Hornshaw today.”

  “The estate manager?”

  Maggie nodded. “Nate says he knew my father well. He oversees the outdoor staff and works with the tenants. Perhaps he can tell us more about my father’s relationship with Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt.”

  Lilly fingered the edge of her apron. “That might help.”

  Maggie walked with Lilly to the door. “Thank you, Lilly.”

  “For bringing up the laundry?”

  Maggie laughed softly. “Yes, and for telling me what’s on your heart. I treasure your friendship.” She gave Lilly a hug.

  Lilly soaked in Maggie’s warm embrace. “Thank you.” She walked down the hall and descended the back stairs, her burden lighter.

  Nate knocked two times and then pushed open the door to Mr. Hornshaw’s office. He stepped to the side and let Maggie pass through first, then followed her in. The estate manager’s office smelled of leather and pipe smoke. Cabinets and open shelves covered most of two walls. A stuffed fox stood atop the cabinet to the left, and a gazelle’s head was mounted on the far wall above a large map of the estate.

  Nate closed the door and turned to Mr. Hornshaw. “Good afternoon. I hope we’re not interrupting you.”

  “Not at all. It’s always good to see you, sir.” Mr. Hornshaw rose from his chair behind his old wooden desk. He was a tall, thin man, about sixty years old, with a silver mustache and thinning hair. He wore spectacles and a neat brown tweed suit.

  Nate shook hands with the estate manager and then motioned toward Maggie. “Do you remember Miss Margaret Lounsbury, Daniel Lounsbury’s daughter?”

  “Yes, sir, I do.” Hornshaw smiled and nodded to Maggie. “Welcome back to Morningside, miss.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Hornshaw. It’s good to see you again.”

  “We all admired your father. He was a fine landscape architect, and his work added great value to the estate. I know the late Mr. Harcourt thought very highly of him as well.”

  “That’s kind of you to say.” Maggie offered him a brief smile, but Nate could see the trace of sadness in her eyes.

  “No one knew more about trees and flowers or had a better eye for where they ought to be planted.” He shook his head. “It’s hard to believe it’s been four years since he passed.”

  Maggie pressed her lips together and nodded, her eyes growing misty.

  Mr. Hornshaw sent her a sympathetic look, then turned to Nate. “Now, sir, what can I do for you?”

  Nate motioned toward the two chairs facing the desk. “May we sit down?”

  “Oh, yes, of course.” Mr. Hornshaw waited until Maggie and Nate took a seat, then he lowered himself onto his chair.

  “We’re hoping you might be able to answer a few questions for us.” Nate kept his tone light, wanting to put the estate manager at ease.

  Mr. Hornshaw’s silver eyebrows rose slightly. “Questions?”

  “Yes.” Nate would have to be cautious to avoid revealing too much. “Shortly before my father died, I came to see you and asked about the money he owed Daniel Lounsbury
. Do you remember our conversation?”

  “Yes, sir.” Hornshaw’s gaze shifted to Maggie and then back to Nate. “I gave you my best accounting of those funds. Is there some question about the money?”

  “No, but you mentioned at the time that you were surprised about the boating accident.”

  He frowned thoughtfully. “Yes, sir. I believe I did say that.”

  “Can you tell us why?”

  Hornshaw stroked his mustache and thought for a moment. “Well, your father ordered that boat from Tuttleman’s that spring. They’ve been in business for over one hundred years and have a reputation for building the best boats in Northumberland. It was delivered in May, so the boat was only three months old when it went down. That seemed odd to me.”

  Maggie shot a quick glance at Nate.

  “But I suppose,” Hornshaw continued, “accidents happen.”

  “Who was responsible for the care and maintenance of the boats?”

  Mr. Hornshaw sat back in his chair. “I suppose that would be Clyde Billington, one of the groundskeepers. He kept the key to the boathouse and looked after the boats.”

  “So Daniel Lounsbury would’ve needed to ask his permission to take the boat out?”

  Hornshaw nodded. “I believe so.”

  Now they were getting somewhere. “Who else used that boat besides Daniel Lounsbury?”

  “Your father made it clear the family and staff were all welcome to use the boat. I took it out a time or two myself. We just had to make arrangements with Clyde.”

  “So if I wanted to take a boat out tomorrow, I’d check with Clyde to see if the boat was available, then he’d meet me at the set time and unlock the boathouse?”

  Hornshaw grinned. “Well, now, you’d have priority over anyone else, sir. I’m sure you wouldn’t have to give notice to use a boat.” He chuckled, but when he saw Nate did not join in, he sobered. “What I mean to say is, I keep the boathouse key now. Any time you want to take it out, just let me know and I’ll see to it.”

  “What happened to Clyde?” Nate asked.

  “He retired last year and went to live with his daughter in Lynemouth on the coast.”

  “Do you know how we might contact him?”