Doves Migration

by Linda Daly

  “Ah, I knew I’d find you lovely ladies in here. Such a lovely evening isn’t it?” Tad walked over and kissed his grandmother’s cheek. Then turning to Miranda, he asked, “Since we still have unfinished business, perhaps a bit of fresh air would suit you?”

  Not ready to answer him yet, but not wishing to be questioned what unfinished business Tad and she had, Miranda said, “A walk sounds quite nice, thank you.” Avoiding everyone’s eyes, especially Felicity’s, she accepted Tad’s hand. Once Miranda stood, Tad placed her hand in the crook of his arm as he escorted her to the gardens.

  “Thank you, Miranda. From the look on your face when I came in, it looked like you needed rescuing.”

  For the second time that evening, Miranda was stunned by Tad’s sudden change in attitude. “I don’t know what to say Tad. In fact, I was just going to scold you for putting me in such a compromising situation, which left me no alternative but to take a walk with you. After what you’ve just said, though, I would sound terribly rude, wouldn’t I?”

  “Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of answering that question. Especially since it took you three years to get over something I said in haste when we first met.”

  Glancing at him in the moonlight, Miranda softly chuckled, suddenly finding herself enjoying his company, despite her reservations. Watching a hummingbird glide to another branch of the lilac bush as she and Tad walked closer to it, she said, “Well, I suppose that was a baited question.”

  Not answering her, Tad changed the subject and asked, “This time of the evening is so pleasant. Don’t you agree?” He pointed to a bunny that hopped into the shadows of the dense bushes.

  “It is indeed,” Miranda replied softly. “Until Father and I came north, I’ve never seen a lilac bush. Of all your grandmother’s flowers I enjoy them the most.”

  “Did you enjoy gardening at your home?” From his question, she knew he wasn’t trying to pump her for information of their way of life on the plantation, but rather what she enjoyed doing while she was there.

  “Well before the war, I did. Unfortunately, after the war began, when mother and I were forced to work the fields out of necessity to survive, gardening seemed to lose its luster.” Thinking of Catherine Brown, her mother, Miranda was able to picture her in filthy and torn clothing, which brought a tear to Miranda’s eye.

  “And now?” Tad asked.

  “And now I think we should head back inside. Don’t you?”

  Lovingly Tad gazed at her, his blue eyes dancing in the moonlight. “Miranda, why not let me accompany you to the theatre, let’s say this Friday, and we can begin again?”

  Accustomed to his sandy hair and good looks over the years, never had he looked as appealing as he did tonight, and her heartbeat quickened. Embarrassed suddenly by his closeness, she softly asked, “Friday you say? Of this week?”

  Recalling how difficult it was for her father at the last minute to secure tickets to a particular show that they had wanted to attend last fall, Miranda asked, “Will that give you enough time to reserve seats?”

  “Oh trust me, my dear, I mean Miranda. If you would honor me by accepting, I will find a way.”

  “Well Tad, with such kind words. How can I possibly refuse? Yes. I would love to attend the theatre with you.”

  Smiling fondly at him, Miranda suddenly was aware that she still had her hand nestled in his arm and began to remove it as they reached the door to reenter the Honeycutt’s home. Feeling her hand withdraw, Tad took her hand and tenderly brushed it with his thumb before releasing it while gazing at her lovingly as only a man does to a woman he adores.

  “Thank you, Miranda. You have no idea how much you have pleased me by accepting.”

  Not certain how she should respond, Miranda stepped forward, waiting for Tad to open the French door. Seeing him stand to the side, she frowned at him. “Aren’t you coming inside?”

  Shaking his head, Tad said, “No. I have another engagement.”

  “Oh. I didn’t realize … I hope I didn’t detain you,” Miranda said, puzzled as to why he had not appeared anxious to leave while they were walking.

  “Not at all. I look forward to this Friday, and I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Noting that Tad didn’t mention where he was going and knowing he owed her no explanation, Miranda only smiled politely while turning—her cheeks flushed and heart pounding like a schoolgirl—then she went inside. As she entered Vivian’s private sitting room she was aware that all eyes were on her, including Michael who had joined them.

  “Ah Miranda, I thought Tad was with you?”

  “He was, Mr. Honeycutt. However, he had another engagement,” she said, hesitantly, seeing the concerned look on his face.

  “Another engagement? This time of night?”

  “I’m sure he won’t be out too late, darling,” Sarah said reassuringly, noticing the look of concern in her husband’s eyes as she smiled lovingly at him.

  Not the least bit interested in listening to Sarah and Michael, Lavinia said, “Miranda dear, we were just discussing having dinner at our home this Friday night. I do hope you and Tad will be able to attend.”

  “Friday, you say?” Miranda said hesitatingly, not believing her bad luck and softly added. “I’m afraid I’ll have to excuse myself.”

  “Oh no. It just wouldn’t be any fun without you and Tad there.”

  Meekly Miranda, said, “I’m sorry, I’ve just agreed to dine out with Tad, and attend the theatre this Friday evening.”

  Flashing a smile toward Vivian, Lavinia said, “Oh how lovely! Well, let’s you and I go shopping for a dress then tomorrow, shall we?” Turning to look at James, who had now joined them, Lavinia said, “James dear, you wouldn’t mind me buying a new dress would you? I seem to have ruined my favorite last evening.”

  Acting as the dutiful husband, James answered. “Why of course not, dear. Anything you like will be fine with me.”

  Taking advantage of a lull in the conversation, Benjamin looked at his host and hostess, and said, “As lovely as this has been, I’m afraid my dear wife and I must be calling it an evening. Six a.m. comes rather early.”

  Lavinia winced inside at hearing Benjamin call Felicity his dear wife, but concealed it by looking at Felicity with a tender smile. “Oh dear, what a dreadful hour. Surely Benjamin, you know a woman needs her beauty rest.”

  As sympathetic as Lavinia’s words sounded, Felicity knew this was Lavinia’s way of snidely saying she looked dreadful. Suddenly feeling very homely and awkward, Felicity glanced at Benjamin. “Well, the children need a lot of care. Hopefully someday soon, we both will have enough help so the two of us can catch up on some badly needed rest.”

  Judging by James’s eyes as he traced Felicity’s face adoringly, Lavinia knew that her husband thought of his tart as anything but homely and haggard. Silently she cringed as her jealousy mounted, yet she knew she could do nothing about it but grin and bear the humiliation for the time being. Realizing there wouldn’t be an opportunity to discuss her problems with Vivian now that the gentlemen had joined them, Lavinia vowed to make the time tomorrow morning.

  ~

  Across town, Tad joined in a game of five-card stud. Sitting next to his friend Daniel Hobbs, at a round table in the back of the dingy, poorly-lit room of Jake’s pub, he dealt the last card to himself. Determined to win some of the money he lost last night to that damned Irishman, Gilbert, Tad casually slipped himself the ace that was buried on the bottom of the deck.

  Casually picking up his hand, he showed no emotion at the ace-high straight he dealt himself. Only the glimmer in Tad’s eyes betrayed his excitement, knowing he was certain to win this hand. Glancing at Gilbert over the top of his cards, Tad’s desire to shame his enemy intensified. Not for the money he had consistently lost to the Irishman. But more importantly, after seeing Miranda’s interest in Gilbert earlier in the garden, Tad was hell bent on proving he was far more worthy of her attention than this man he deemed as a worthless son-of-a-bitch.
Clearing his throat, he turned to Daniel.

  “Hobbs, it’s up to you.”

  “Not so fast, Honeycutt.” Gilbert grabbed Tad’s arm from across the table. “Let’s be showing us all the ace of spades that was buried low hole. I’d be wagering it has found its way miraculously into yer hand!”

  Glaring back at him, Tad said, “Are you accusing me of cheating?”

  “I’m doing more than calling you a cheater, ya lousy bastard! I’m here to prove it.” Gilbert shouted, reaching across the table before Tad had a chance to react, and grabbed him by the coat lapel, while knocking his cards across the table.

  Daniel, noticing the ace at the same time as Gilbert, reacted by knocking into the table, resulting in the cards, money, and ale crashing to the floor at Tad’s feet.

  “Why you dirty low down scum! Can’t win the honest way can ya? Gotta deal off the bottom of the deck?” Gilbert shouted.

  “You damned liar!” Tad shouted back, knowing it was now his word against Gilbert’s, since all the cards were scattered on the pub’s floor in a pile. “You’re drunk and don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”

  “That may be so, yer lordship. But why is it then that you got yourself the ace of spades that was buried on the bottom of the deck? I saw it with me own damned eyes when you were shuffling!”

  Tad, outraged, reached on the dirty floor to retrieve the money and cards that had fallen, spotting the ace of spades on top, he placed his boot over the card and then threw the money at his accuser. “You don’t know what you’re talking about! Here, take your damn money! Who needs it! You’re only pissed off that the lady prefers me to the likes of you.”

  “What the hell you talking about? What lady?” Gilbert shouted back.

  “You know perfectly well what lady, you slimy bastard. Can I help it that Miss Brown would rather associate with someone of means, rather than a good-for-nothing like you? And since you can’t have her, you’re trying to destroy my good name. Before you start accusing someone unjustly of cheating, you better be damned sure you’re right in the future you slimy-Mick.”

  Realizing everyone in the entire bar was staring at the both of them, Tad pulled the table back to an upright position and kicked the tin tankards at his feet. Dramatically he then straightened his suit coat and took his seat again. After confidently leaning back in his chair, with a snide look on his face, Tad added for the benefit of those who were listening, “Hear me real good O’Flaherty. People get themselves killed for trashing the good name of honest folk here in America.”

  “Bullshit! There ain’t an honest bone in yer body. And I caught ya dead to rights!” As he flung himself across the table, his first blow clipped the corner of Tad’s eye. Knocked off balance, Tad fell back in his chair onto the floor of the pub. Recovering quickly, Tad jumped to his feet and flung himself onto his attacker. Gilbert, anticipating Tad’s reaction, made his way around the table to deliver another blow to Tad, but found the taller man pinning him down across the table with a forceful strike to the head instead.

  The remaining men that had been sitting around the table, jumped from their seats as the two men continued striking each other with their fists. Within moments the fight ended abruptly when the owner of the pub, breaking a whiskey bottle on the side of the bar, yelled, “Get out, Irish! We don’t need the likes of you and that bad temper of yours tearing up my place. Get out and don’t come back.”

  “Me! I ain’t the one who’s just been caught cheating. You’d let that bastard remain, but yer throwing me out? What the hell is going on here?” Gilbert demanded.

  “That’s right, Irish. I said get on out of here and don’t you be coming back! Or the next time I’ll send for the constable and throw your ass in jail, and have you deported back to Ireland, where you belong!”

  With victory in his eyes, Tad again picked up his chair and after brushing his blonde bloodsoaked hair across his head, yelled at his attacker, “You heard the man. Get on out of here ya damned lying bastard!”

  From the look on Gilbert’s face, it was obvious he was outraged. Glaring at the rest of the men around the table who had been playing cards, he yelled, “Tell ’em! Tell ’em what ya saw, damn it!”

  None of the men would come to his aid and glanced away from his accusing eyes. “What in the hell is the matter with you dumb bastards? His lordship steals your money right from under your noses and you protect him.” Disgusted, he waved his arm at them. “Ah the hell with ya.”

  Turning his attention back toward Tad, Gilbert glared at him with contempt, grabbing his money, and spouted, “Watch your back ‘yer lordship’, cause I’ll be getting yer ass! You can count on that, and the rest of you lying bastards too!” Then he stormed out of the pub indignantly.

  Daniel, glancing at Tad, announced to the rest of the onlookers, “That dirty stinking liar has tried to dishonor my good friend’s reputation here. A round for the house, on me!”

  Dramatically patting Tad on the shoulder he added, “I tell ya all, Honeycutt is a man of honor! It was that low belly O’Flaherty. I saw the whole thing. Isn’t that right?” he yelled, looking at George Hornsby and Harry Pike to back him up. Readily, the other poker buddies agreed, but they knew differently, seeing Tad deal from the bottom of the deck as well.

  ~ Eight ~

  Distinctive Differences

  Onlookers who might see the exchange of well wishes between James Sterling and the Myles’ outside the mansion of their mutual friends, the Honeycutt’s, would think they were old friends, rather than estranged adversaries with a sordid past. No longer able to witness the shameless way her husband was trying to wiggle his way into the Myles’ good graces merely to be closer to Felicity, the scorned woman turned her head in disgust. You will pay for this, you miserable bastard. If it is the last thing I ever do!

  Trying desperately to figure out a solution to her current predicament, Lavinia called upon the dead spirit of her father, Randolph Bailey-Smythe. Father, this is all your fault! If you hadn’t left all your holdings to that pathetic daughter of yours, I would have some leverage against that worthless husband of mine rather than be forced to kowtow to his every whim. Help me father please, she pleaded. Haven’t I suffered enough with the humiliation of losing everything I value? Do you want to see me locked away in an asylum too? If James and that old coot Alfred have their way, that is precisely what will become of me, while your precious Annabelle and her traitorous fiancé Rupert live in luxury off your holdings and protecting his vast fortune no doubt!

  On the verge of tears from frustration and the sheer irony of how life had changed since her father’s death, Lavinia gave in to the images of the past that flashed before her now. A single tear ran down her cheek as she recalled her beloved Ashwillow, the family home her father had bequeathed to her only sister, Annabelle, and the life she had once known in England. Her memories were halted when the image of Annabelle living in the lap of luxury with Rupert at her side, crept into her tormented mind.

  In desperation, she again pleaded to her deceased father. How could you do this to me, father? Annabelle has everything, while I am forced to live here in this godforsaken country with these inept simpletons who think they are of quality breeding.

  Living in the colonies these past three years, it had become painfully clear to Lavinia that the prestigious life she had once led as the daughter of the Squire Randolph Bailey-Smythe meant little to those in New York society. All they seemed to care about was who had money and power. James, who had invested wisely in the meat-canning venture, was now looked upon as quite influential in New York.

  Glancing at her husband, she glared at him with hate in her eyes. Enjoy yourself now, you miserable bastard, pretending to be decent to win that little tart’s affection, because when I’m through, you will wish to God you were never born. How dare the likes of you think yourself superior over a Bailey-Smythe! Watching James kiss Felicity’s hand, a plan for revenge against her husband began to form in her mind.

>   Although she had been socially excommunicated from the elite of society in England, Lavinia knew that her sister and Rupert would come to her rescue if they believed she had learned the errors of her ways. Also aware that Rupert would do anything to protect his cousin, Felicity, recalling the night of the ball when he had gone against his own kind to protect her, decided to play on both their weaknesses.

  What a splendid idea! She congratulated herself. Surely they couldn’t refuse a letter of apology, begging for their forgiveness. Especially when I tell them my fears about James trying to sabotage Felicity and Benjamin’s marriage out of revenge and old jealousies. As if she no longer had anything to fear, knowing that by using James’ threat against her, and Rupert’s weakness for Felicity to win access back into their good graces, she glanced at Felicity and Benjamin. As inviting as it might be to see you suffer Benjamin, losing another wife to James, I’m afraid I will have to prevent my wayward husband from winning Felicity’s heart for the time being.

  A sinister smile crossed her lips, as her eyes remained focused on Benjamin. But mark my words you stupid fool, the day will come when I no longer will have a use for James, and then he and that harlot wife of yours will rip your heart out, right under your own nose! And that is precisely what you deserve, you boring sniveling swine.

  Preoccupied by the thought of Benjamin suffering, Lavinia hadn’t realized James was returning, and as the coach door opened, she gasped.

  “Oh it’s you. Finished making a fool of yourself, gushing over the Myles’?”

  “Felicity wanted me to be sure and let you know she hopes you’re feeling better by the morning. Wasn’t that thoughtful of her?” James snidely commented.

  Glaring back at him, she responded curtly, “Most thoughtful indeed! And Benjamin, the unsuspecting naive swine, as you so eloquently called him earlier—did he wish me well too?”

  Hearing no response, Lavinia looked out the window in silence. As hard as she tried to remain focused on her plan of winning back Rupert and Annabelle’s trust, Lavinia’s mind wandered. The similarities of James’ behavior to her’s years before when he was wed to Rebecca, and the way he was now with Felicity was uncanny. Glancing at the man she once believed she loved, she wondered if Rebecca had felt the same humiliation when James had actively flaunted his desires for her back in England years ago.