“I see no need to worry your grandfather with your recklessness.” His brow arched as he pointed his finger in a playful threat. “So long as you don’t go repeating such a stunt.”
She shook her head, grateful for the reprieve. “No, of course not.”
“I never found the deer, by the way.”
“No?” she asked, trying to sound sufficiently surprised.
“But I did find something else.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out Amelia’s letter.
Maddie gaped in surprise. In her haste to escape him that day, she hadn’t realized she’d lost it.
“I assumed you’d want your letter returned, since it’s personal.”
She blanched, snatching the folded page from his hand. “But not so personal you refrained from reading it?”
“I had to read it to discern ownership.” He leaned forward. “Though I must admit, I was hoping to learn more about you.”
For a moment she felt flattered. How could she not? A handsome man was declaring interest in her. The urge to sail off on the sappy emotion was overwhelming. And pathetic. She stiffened, cursing the lilt in her spirit for what it was: a prelude to pain and disappointment. She’d had far more than her fill of both.
“You have merely to ask around town for enlightenment.”
“I did that as well.”
She stared, startled by his honesty. He’d been as kind to her as he’d been to Grandfather—avoiding any mention of her diseased reputation in the hope of sparing her feelings. But she sensed he’d gotten an earful just the same.
She dropped her gaze to the floor, disappointment prickling under her skin. Why this stranger’s opinion of her mattered, she wasn’t sure. She knew only that it did, and the revelation filled her with anger. Anger at him for prying and anger at herself for caring that he had.
She waved the letter. “Well, thank you for returning it.” She stood. “I’m sure you’re still busy settling in, so I’ll show you to the door.”
Ignoring her abrupt dismissal, he remained seated, staring up at her. “Upon going through Doctor Filmore’s files, I came across yours.”
She braced herself against a rush of dread. “And?”
“And I’m intrigued. Survivors of trauma often struggle with emotional after-effects, and some are forced to seek treatment for the assault on their mental faculties. Others find ways to cope with the stress. As a doctor, I’d like to know more about your injuries and recovery.” His expression stilled. “Would you mind answering a few questions?”
And there it was. The reason for his interest. It wasn’t physical attraction to her that had brought him here; it was clinical curiosity, nothing more. She felt like a fool.
“I would very much mind,” she huffed.
“But—”
“As I’m sure you can understand, I don’t wish to talk about it.”
He stood to face her. “But your case is astounding.”
“My case?” She glared at him. “This is my life, Doctor Merrick. Please don’t reduce the sum of it to the ridiculous things you’ve learned from that old fool’s files.”
Absorbing her words, his expression softened. “He made a mistake, Madeline.”
“He did more than that.” She clenched her teeth to stave off tears. “He let them all believe…” She took a deep breath. “You know what they think of me. That I’m some oddity of nature.”
“I can help change that.”
She shook her head. “It’s too late. After what Doctor Filmore—”
“Filmore was a coward. The man declared you dead, for Christ’s sake. Then to cover his mistake, instead of admitting it, he allowed people to think there was some other dark and mysterious force involved.”
She swallowed hard. She’d waited for so long for someone to say it that she hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed those bittersweet words until Jace uttered them. The desperation in her voice was clear when she pressed him for more. “And you don’t believe that?”
He frowned. “Of course not. I’m a doctor. There’s a reasonable explanation for everything.”
Well, certainly not everything. But she wasn’t about to go pointing that out.
“I can help you. I can help the people of Misty Lake understand that you’re not some sort of malevolent aberration. Your case is rare; there’s no disputing that. But you’re not cursed or blessed or any other such nonsense.”
The more he talked and the more he tried to convince her he could help, the more furious she became. It was too late for this now. For three years she’d dealt with her overwhelming sorrow alone. She’d shouldered the guilt and the rage. No one would listen when she’d needed to be heard. Not even Grandfather, which hurt the most. She’d literally talked to the walls to spare him the discomfort of consoling her, and she’d be damned if she would admit to this stranger that her solitary recovery had been as traumatic as the accident itself.
Jace’s voice softened. “Filmore was a coward, but you’re not. You couldn’t have recovered if you were.” He took a step toward her. “Give me the opportunity to study your case, Madeline.”
She had to steel herself against melting in the warmth of his eyes, the sound of her name on his lips. “And what have you to gain from it all?”
“Knowledge. Knowledge that might help others.”
And who was there to help me? “I’m sorry, Doctor Merrick. My answer is no.”
* * * *
Maddie awoke the next day ill-rested and weary, having spent the wee hours of the evening fretting her twin problems: her confrontation with Jace Merrick and her decision to attend Amelia’s wedding. Gathering her exhausted wits about her, she concluded she would make the first step toward reentering society by refreshing her very much outdated wardrobe. She hoped that acquiring some new gowns would armor her for the ordeal ahead, and in that spirit, she presented herself at Mrs. March’s dress boutique immediately upon its opening.
After enduring Mrs. March’s less-than-enthusiastic reaction to her first patron of the day, Maddie was ushered to a wobbly bench in the far corner of the shop. She sat in the dreary light, poring through book after book of dress patterns, determined to find something dazzling. While she might be forced to attend the wedding and the slew of other prenuptial events alone, she’d be attending in style.
Maddie turned another page in the book. She tried to focus on the patterns, but her mind kept returning to her conversation with Doctor Merrick and his startling request to “study her case,” as he’d called it. He wanted to analyze her as he might a rat in a cage, to see how she’d fared since the accident. Why did men of science have to analyze everything? Was it not in their nature to simply let things be? He’d told her he’d wanted knowledge from her that might help others. While Maddie believed this was partially true, she suspected it was his ego—and his desire to be the first person to explain something inexplicable—that drove the doctor’s need to delve deeper. Whatever the reason, one thing remained clear. Jace Merrick saw her as the others did, as an oddity. True, he had a medical explanation for her revival after the accident, but he regarded her as a specimen to be studied, nonetheless. How foolish she was for having hoped otherwise. There was something about the man and the way she felt in his presence, as if he’d roused her after years of hibernation. The feeling was both exciting and terrifying. And immensely annoying.
In matters of men, Maddie was accustomed to holding the upper hand. Once upon a time she could have charmed Jace Merrick out of his boots. The Fair Five were the very opposite of wallflowers, and most people had thought Maddie as the boldest of the bunch. Flirtation was a powerful device, and one she’d wielded with skill. How easy it was to entice a man with a smile or a bat of the eyes. Would the good doctor be so easy to seduce? The appealing thought made her flush.
“Anything yet?” Mrs. March called through the bolts of fabric and ribbon.
“Not yet,” Maddie replied with a start.
Maddie continued to browse the next book, turning page after page, until she saw it. The perfect dress for the rehearsal dinner and dance. She smiled, staring at the pattern. The form-fitting bodice, the cascading layers of silk and lace.
“Good morning, Miss Sutter.”
Maddie’s spine stiffened in dread as she recognized the pretentious cadence of her former fiancé’s voice. Dragging her gaze from the book on her lap, she steadied her nerves, then looked up to face him.
“Daniel.”
He stared down at her, his green eyes drinking in the sight of her in the same thirsty way that used to curl her toes. Presently, it made her want to retch. Seeing him after all this time, and here in the dress shop, was surprise enough. It took her several long moments to force her attention to the woman on his arm.
“May I present Miss Lucinda Brewer. My betrothed.”
Hearing the news was like taking a slap. But the sting of shock subsided as Maddie absorbed the brunt of it, determined to maintain her composure. She’d had three years to prepare for this. Three long years during which she’d imagined the moment she’d come face to face with her replacement. A woman more suited to being my wife, he’d said at their last meeting.
“How do you do?” Maddie whispered through the memory of those crushing words.
“I’m very well, thank you.” Even the dismal lighting couldn’t shadow Miss Brewer’s radiant complexion and glimmering blond curls. “I’ve heard so much about you.” Her kind expression confirmed that she had, indeed, heard plenty, and Maddie shriveled beneath the woman’s pensive smile. Miss Brewer’s eyes harbored no rancor, no jealousy, just an unmistakable look of compassion that left Maddie breathless. And utterly humiliated.
Daniel silenced his fiancée with a firm pat to her arm. The reprimand sent Miss Brewer’s gaze to the floor, along with Maddie’s sinking confidence.
“We’re in town for Cousin Lester’s wedding,” he said.
While Maddie had expected Daniel would attend, the wedding was more than three weeks away. She flipped the page of the book.
“You’re early,” she replied.
“We wished to extend the trip to give Lucinda the chance to get to know everyone.”
Maddie glanced up. He smiled, a beaming smile full of perfect teeth and arrogance. She smiled back, acidly.
“How nice.”
He abandoned all pretenses for a moment, his smirk vanishing without a trace. The man actually looked disappointed that she hadn’t fallen to pieces at his feet, and she congratulated herself for holding her emotions so firmly in check. But the respite was fleeting, and after a beat, Daniel resumed his smug assault with renewed vigor.
“Amelia will, no doubt, miss your presence at her nuptials,” he said.
His false regret was too much. The hair on the back of her neck rose with her temper. How dare he assume she would decline the invitation? How dare he assume anything at all?
“I wouldn’t dream of disappointing my dearest friend.”
His eyes widened. “You plan to attend?”
Even Miss Brewer seemed stunned.
“Certainly,” Maddie cooed. “Why ever would you think I wouldn’t?”
“I assumed your grandfather wasn’t up to escorting you.”
“He’s not.”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed in warning. “Consider the impropriety of attending unescorted. People will talk.”
Maddie’s blood boiled under her skin.
“They always do.” She shrugged. “Unlike you, I don’t allow mere talk to guide my actions.” The barb left him speechless, which suited her fine. “But what makes you think I’ll be attending unescorted?”
“I…”
“You’ve been away a long time.”
He studied her, his irises darkening with something unrecognizable. “From what I hear of your situation, little has changed.”
Maddie clenched the book in her hands. Tears burned in the back of her throat. After he’d broken her heart and their engagement, she expected his pity, his guilt. Even his usual condescension. What she hadn’t expected, though, was spite. At this moment, her former love resembled his uncle, the pinched-faced Pastor Hogle, and Daniel’s suddenly triumphant expression made her wonder how she’d ever cared for him at all.
“So, tell me, Madeline. Who is this escort of yours?”
His question filled her ears with the sound of a challenge. The couple stared, awaiting her answer. Maddie wanted to run. Instead, she reacted in the moment. In anger. In defense of her pride.
“Who else but my fiancé?”
He blinked hard but recovered quickly.
“Your fiancé?” His skeptical gaze trapped her in a vise-like grip. “And who might that be?”
He sought to rip away her last shred of dignity, but she refused to let go. Consequences be damned, she simply could not resist.
“Doctor Jace Merrick.”
Chapter 4
Oh Lord, what had she done? Maddie held her breath until Daniel and his fiancée departed the shop. She exhaled an audible sigh, heart pounding.
She estimated she had all of an hour, perhaps less, before the shocking news of her engagement spread through town. She shot to her feet, trying to stay calm. Once the drumming pulse at her temples receded to a level where she could actually hear her own thoughts, she contemplated her next move.
She had to get to Jace before anyone else did.
Smoothing her skirts, she glanced into the mirror by the wall. The beige day dress and ancient straw hat she’d chosen that morning made her look mousy and plain. Inconspicuous. Since the accident, she had preferred to fade discreetly into the background of things for obvious reasons. But today she could not afford subtlety.
“Mrs. March,” she called. “Mrs. March!”
The sound of the woman’s footsteps grew louder. The measuring tape draped around her neck dangled from her hefty bosom as she halted in front of Maddie, hands on hips.
“What is it? Have you finally decided on something?”
Maddie glanced to the forgotten book of patterns on the bench. “No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “But I wish to purchase the blue hat in the window.”
Mrs. March huffed. “I’ll have it wrapped, and you may stop back for it tomorrow.” She started away.
“I shall need it immediately.”
The woman stopped, her furrowed face resembling a month-old potato.
“If you could please just get it down from the window. I wish to wear it home.”
Mrs. March drummed her fingers on her ample hips, contemplating the request.
“Very well.” The inconvenience of undressing the window display was apparently worth the sale. Money was money, after all, even if it came from Madeline Sutter’s pocket.
Maddie followed on the woman’s clipped heels to the front of the shop. Mrs. March climbed onto a stool to retrieve the hat, thrust it toward Maddie, and then stepped aside. Maddie placed the hat on her head, quite pleased by her reflection in the mirror. The color suited her nicely. She adjusted the flouncy brim, admiring the weave and the cluster of silk flowers.
It had been ages since she’d purchased anything so fashionable. She’d abandoned her frivolous pursuit of the latest styles long ago, along with so many of her other favorite amusements.
“Thank you, Mrs. March.” Maddie paid for the hat. “I’ll return later for the old straw,” she said as she hurried from the shop.
She walked toward the doctor’s house, playing in her mind how she’d approach the matter. There was no sense trying to guess how Jace would react to hearing the news of his sudden engagement, so she pushed all such distressing speculation from her head. She’d no choice but to proceed.
The only way she
could stroll into Amelia’s wedding and face Daniel and the others was on the arm of her fiancé. She would simply have to charm Doctor Merrick into playing along. True, winning him over would entail offering to answer his dreaded questions about her recovery, but compared to the humiliation she’d suffer if he failed to escort her, the invasion of her privacy seemed minor.
Fear tightened her chest. Jace’s refusal to help would prove disastrous. She was already a pariah, an abomination. Why on earth had she risked adding pathetic liar to the list?
She inhaled a deep breath to summon her courage. As Jace had mentioned, she wasn’t a coward. If she had learned anything about herself during her recovery, it was that she possessed real strength. Which meant she’d find some way to turn these unfortunate events to her favor—even if it killed her. First, she’d appeal to Jace’s thirst for knowledge. Her case was astounding, hadn’t he said so himself? He would not spurn the rare opportunity she presented; she was sure of it. She made a final adjustment to her hat, standing taller. If professional considerations were not enough to sway him, she’d dispatch every flirtatious weapon in her rusty arsenal to win him over. He might be an egotistical doctor, but he was still a man.
Before she knew it, she was standing in front of the doctor’s residence. She glanced up toward the sound of hammering above. Henry Whalen, town handyman and former friend, frowned down at her from the rooftop as he pounded away. Apparently, Jace had enlisted Henry’s service in repairing his roof.
Shrugging off Henry’s snub, Maddie stared at the house to which she’d sworn never to return. The peeling white shutters and neglected flower boxes had the same forlorn look as they had on her last visit, an ominous reminder of the nightmare she’d endured inside these walls. The blinding pain in her leg. The endless interrogation. The stunned faces staring down at her. Do you remember your name? Do you know where you are?
Butterflies took flight in her stomach. Closing her eyes to steady her nerves, she charged up to the porch. She blew out a breath and knocked on the door.
Jace answered wearing a wrinkled shirt and a look of surprise. His disheveled appearance and the open book lodged under his arm made it evident she’d interrupted his work. Here stood a man who spent his time wisely. Convincing him to squander it in service of petty lies would be no easy feat.
The Lady Who Lived Again Page 4
