Doves Migration

by Linda Daly

  “Fine! I’ll follow closely behind you, but there was little I could do against a horse and carriage.”

  “Of course. How unkind of me to suggest otherwise,” she added apologetically while turning to Miranda. “Come dearest, let Mr. Sterling tend to Gilbert.”

  Slowly the two of them turned to leave as James and Montgomery walked toward Gilbert who occasionally moaned. Hearing the man yelp in pain as they carried him to the Sterling’s rig, soothingly Felicity said, “Don’t fret Miranda dear, I’m sure Gilbert will be just fine.”

  Reaching their rig, Miranda looked at her friend. “How could Tad do such a thing? Why he’s nothing but a cold-blooded murderer!”

  “Now Miranda, you know Tad was not driving!”

  “That much is true. But he didn’t do anything to stop that fiendish friend of his either. Why, it was as if he too wanted to run Gilbert down as well? But why?”

  Not having an answer for her friend, Felicity helped the distraught Miranda safely inside the coach and promptly closed the blinds to prevent anyone passing by from noticing her before she took a seat next to her friend. As the two women waited for Montgomery to return, they both trembled in the darkened carriage, reliving the incident in their minds. Unable to accept what they had witnessed, nor understand how two men of good standing could be capable of such a dastardly deed, the two sat dumbfounded searching for a reasonable explanation. But knowing there was none, Miranda closed her eyes and softly wept. Ashamed that she had once allowed Tad to hold her in his arms and eagerly kiss him, she began to sob.

  “Oh Felicity, how could he do such a thing? I hate him … I tell you I hate him!”

  “Shh, you’re just upset,” she said, tenderly trying to comfort her friend, but Felicity too found it hard not to despise a man capable of such treachery.

  ~ Thirteen ~

  Revealed Truths

  In the middle of the night Felicity tiptoed into her husband’s office which had been converted to a temporary shelter for Gilbert, to check on Miranda. As Felicity had thought, Miranda was once again asleep in a chair beside her patient. Inhaling deeply, she shook her head disapprovingly.

  From the first night they had brought the unconscious Gilbert to the orphanage, Miranda took it upon herself to tend to his every need, as if she were responsible for his well being. Despite her and James trying to explain she had done nothing to cause this, Miranda stubbornly remained by Gilbert’s side.

  In the past when Benjamin had been called out of town on business, Miranda stayed with Felicity, so when a note was sent to the Honeycutt’s that she was staying for a few days with Felicity, no one was alarmed or suspicious. It was as if the whole incident of Gilbert being run over never happened.

  Disheartened by such thoughts, Felicity drew closer to Miranda and noticed the rolled up bandage in her lap. Realizing Miranda must have wrapped Gilbert’s ribs again, Felicity gently bent over and tapped her friend on the shoulder.

  Immediately Miranda jerked awake. Seeing Felicity, she smiled wearily. “You gave me such a fright.”

  “Miranda dear, you need some real rest. Please come to bed. I’m sure Gilbert won’t wake up and if he does we’ll hear him.”

  Stubbornly Miranda shook her head. “I can’t Felicity. Don’t you see, if he does come to, and finds himself in a strange place, he could cause himself serious danger.”

  “Oh Miranda, you heard the doctor, Gilbert sustained a serious blow to the head besides breaking several ribs, and he might never come around. Surely you staying by his side day and night is not doing him or you any good.”

  “Don’t say such a thing! I know he’ll pull through this. He just has to.”

  “Sweetheart, all we can do is pray for him, but I’m genuinely worried about you, too. Surely you not eating or sleeping can’t be of any help to Gilbert now,” Felicity whispered.

  “Oh Felicity, I know you mean well, but please let me stay here. Helping Gilbert soothes me as I’ve told you. I couldn’t save Joseph, but maybe I can save him.”

  Kissing her friend on the forehead, Felicity nodded. “Very well, Miranda, just please be aware that what happened to Gilbert is no more your fault than what happened to poor Joseph.”

  Tiptoeing out of the room, Felicity watched as Miranda stood up and changed the cloth on Gilbert’s forehead. Sighing, she closed the door behind her, saying a silent prayer. Dear Lord, please heal Gilbert, not just for his sake but for Miranda’s too.

  Inside Benjamin’s study, Miranda tenderly wiped Gilbert’s brow with a cool compress. Placing it over his forehead, she brushed her fingers through his hair, and whispered, “Oh please wake up Gilbert and let me see those beautiful green eyes of yours.”

  Not feeling the least bit apprehensive being so familiar with his body, having cared for his every need for the past three days, her fingers traced his face and she spoke again to him softly. “Please wake up and tell me why Tad would do such a thing to you.”

  Absentmindedly, she caressed his forearm with her fingertips, admiring his muscular arms and chest. Reaching for his hand, she held it in hers tenderly. “You have such strong hands Gilbert.” Stroking it tenderly, she placed his hand back by his side and returned to the chair she had become so familiar with. Feeling stiff and tired, Miranda stretched her neck and rubbed it. Gaining no relief, she leaned her head back into the chair, reliving the scene of the accident again in her mind, hating Tad more as every day passed.

  She sighed heavily, closed her eyes, and felt a tear ran down her cheek. “Dear God, please let him live,” she prayed. Then glancing back at Gilbert and seeing his green eyes staring at her, Miranda jumped from her seat. “Oh Gilbert, you’re awake.”

  Instantly, she leaned over him. “Don’t be alarmed. You’re safe at the orphanage, no one can hurt you. Are you in pain?” she whispered.

  Trying to lift himself from the couch, he winced, and seeing the bandage around his ribcage he looked at Miranda. “Aye … How long have I been here?”

  “Three days. Please don’t try to move, Gilbert, you have several broken ribs and a broken leg. You’ll only hurt yourself more.”

  “Why are you here?”

  Softly Miranda explained how she and Felicity had witnessed him being run down and how they had brought him there for his safety. Seeing no reaction to her explanation, she asked, “Are you thirsty? Can I get you something?”

  “Aye.”

  Miranda immediately went to the table and poured him a drink of water. Returning to his side, she tenderly slipped one hand beneath his head while bringing the glass to his mouth. Their eyes locked onto one another and instinctively Miranda assured him again. “I mean you no harm Gilbert, honestly. I only want to help you.”

  Sipping at the water, Gilbert leaned his head back onto the pillow and whispered, “I don’t need help, especially from you.”

  Miranda had expected such a reaction, but hearing it didn’t make it easier, and her eyes smarted. “I don’t know why Tad and his friend did such a despicable thing to you, Gilbert, but I swear to you, I had nothing to do with it.”

  Closing his eyes to her, he asked, “Who’s Joseph?”

  Miranda gasped, realizing that he must have been awake when Felicity had been in the room. Realizing she owed him no explanation to her personal life, but feeling obligated to tell him, she sheepishly said, “Joseph was our slave and my half brother. He died because I tried to help him to freedom.”

  Gilbert glanced at her and smiled faintly. “That’s reassuring, lass, since I find myself depending on you too.”

  Comprehending that he was trying to add levity to the situation, she returned his smile. Suddenly aware that if he had been awake to hear her and Felicity’s conversation, he must have been awake when she had run her fingers through his hair and caressed his face. She sheepishly looked at him. “You should have let me know you were awake.”

  “What was I supposed to think? I wake up, me head’s throbbing, it hurts to breathe, and there you are sitting by my sid
e, sleeping in a chair. Hell, I thought I was some prisoner.”

  “You’re no prisoner Gilbert. We’re only trying to care for your wounds and keep you safe but I’m afraid you are a wanted man for the murder of a David Sullivan.”

  Obviously upset at hearing that, Gilbert glared at Miranda. “I didn’t kill me bud, your lordship’s mate did! That’s why they tried to kill me, to keep me mouth shut.”

  Confused by his statement and seeing he was obviously in pain trying to speak, Miranda tried to console him. “Gilbert, you mustn’t overdo it, there will be time later to explain …”

  “No. I did not kill me mate. Hobbs did. You believe me, don’t you?”

  Miranda had no reason to believe him other than the urgency she saw in his eyes as he spoke, and she nodded. “I believe you Gilbert. Just please rest now, and tomorrow, you can …”

  “I’ve rested for three days, lass.”

  Clearly, he needed to explain everything, so Miranda sat and listened to the events that led to David Sullivan’s demise as he spoke in a strained voice, from the pain in his ribs. Miranda was shocked how forthright Gilbert had been, including his arrangement with Daniel Hobbs to cheat money from the non-suspecting Tad. Stunned, Miranda sighed and looked at him, asking why he would have done such a thing to begin with, not in accusing voice, but rather as a means to fully understand the situation. As she listened, she came to realize that Gilbert had taken the job for the sole purpose to making a fresh start for him and his sister in New York.

  “Gilbert, are you telling me that Mr. Hobbs killed this man, for the sole purpose to silence you? And for you to continue to extort money from Tad?”

  “Silence aye, but I told him to find another patsy to rob his lordship, I was through with the lot of them. Then after his lordship came to, Hobb’s acted as if Tad had killed him.”

  As hard as Miranda tried not to appear accusing, she found herself disgusted by such deceit and asked, “And you said nothing?”

  “Don’t be judging me, missy. Just leave me be. You got what you wanted, so run along and tell your beloved he was duped by his mate and then maybe the two of them will leave me and my sister alone.”

  Stunned beyond belief, Miranda shook her head in denial. “First off, Tad is not my beloved and secondly …”

  Before she could finish Gilbert—obviously in pain by the look in his eyes—stubbornly said, “You all are alike, the whole lot of you are nothin’ but liars.”

  “How dare you say such a meanspirited thing to me. I know you are hurt and angry, but that gives you no cause to insinuate I’m a liar. Don’t you understand Felicity and I have placed ourselves in grave danger by harboring a fugitive, and caring for you? Which we gladly did to save you from the injustices that we witnessed.”

  Miranda, exhausted and overwhelmed by the accounts of the death of an innocent man, and shocked by the actions of both Tad and Gilbert, looked at him with contempt.

  “Furthermore, don’t you dare pass judgment on my character when you allowed another man think he was capable of murder. Not that I care what you think of me, Mr. O’Flaherty, but just so you understand fully, I’ve never lied to you. As a matter of fact, I shared with you this evening something so personal and painful that I never discussed it with anyone, not even Tad. And God knows, I regret ever exposing my heart to such a wretched ungrateful man.”

  “Is this your idea of caring for me? Yelling at me and calling me wretched. I preferred you rubbing your hands through my hair, lass.”

  Miranda gasped in utter shock that he would even bring up such a delicate moment. Trying to regain her composure she said, “I’m sorry I lost my temper. That was inexcusable of me, considering how ill you are. But Mr. O’Flaherty, a gentleman would never bring up such an embarrassing moment, especially since I thought you were unconscious.”

  “Lass, I told ya before, me ain’t no gentleman like his lordship, who says sweet nothin’s to ya in the garden so he can steal a kiss.”

  Hearing his comment, and recalling the night Tad had kissed her in the garden, the blood drained from Miranda’s face. “Oh my God, you were spying on me. How could you?”

  Gilbert closed his eyes as if dismissing her and said, “Leave me be. I’m tired and need me rest.”

  Angered beyond reason, Miranda stood and peered down at her patient. “How convenient, when I pleaded for you to rest you demanded to be heard so I listened. Well now I demand an explanation for such unsavory behavior.” Seeing he did not intend to answer her, Miranda stood over him, fist planted firmly on her hip. “Fine, Mr. O’Flaherty, have it your way, but I’m not going anywhere and neither are you, so eventually you are going to have to answer me.”

  After several minutes, Miranda, outraged, sat next to him and watched his chest rise up and down as he struggled to breathe, coughing from time to time. Seeing his cheeks turn red, Miranda knew his fever was returning. Putting her own anger aside, she went to the dry sink and dipped another cloth into the cool water. Then returning to his side, she removed the cloth that was on his forehead, and replaced it with another. Gilbert opened his eyes and grasped her wrist. “I told you before I don’t want your help.”

  Glancing at his hand then back into his eyes she softly said, “Want it or not, you’re going to have to accept it. You’re burning up with fever, so stop being so pig-headed and let me care for you.”

  His grip lessened around her wrist and he mumbled a thank you, while Miranda softly placed his hand back to his side. Taking the other cloth to the dry sink, she dipped it into the basin, all the while looking at the man who could anger her faster than any other she had ever met. Retrieving the quilt she had used to cover herself, she tenderly laid it across him, noticing he was shivering.

  Slipping her hand under his neck, he opened his eyes again and she whispered softly, “Gilbert, please let me place this cloth at the base of your neck to help break the fever, then I’ll fix you some broth.”

  As she stepped away from his side, she noticed Felicity at the doorway and Miranda smiled at her, seeing she had fixed a tray for him already.

  “How’s our patient this morning?”

  “Awake and cantankerous,” Miranda whispered, going to Felicity. “Did we wake you?”

  “No. I was already awake. Why don’t I give this to our pig-headed patient while you get some badly needed rest, Miranda?” Felicity deliberately paused so Miranda understood she had overheard their conversation before continuing. Softly she smiled at her friend reassuringly. “Less you’ve forgotten, Tad will be here in a few hours to check in on us. And if you don’t want him to find you looking tired and arouse his suspicion as to why, I suggest you rest and freshen up. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of our Mr. O’Flaherty.”

  Nodding, Miranda left the room and went to Felicity and Benjamin’s bedroom where she lay on the pillow, hearing Felicity speak softly to Gilbert.

  “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced. I’m Mrs. Felicity Myles, my husband is Reverend Benjamin Myles, and we run this orphanage. Now, please take some of this broth and try to remain calm, Mr. O’Flaherty.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Myles.”

  “Shh, Mr. O’Flaherty,” Felicity interrupted. “It’s not me you should be thanking, it’s Miranda who has been by your side day and night since your unfortunate accident. Please do keep that in mind the next time you are compelled to lash out at her for the injustices that have been brought down against you.”

  Hearing not another word, Miranda closed her eyes and wept softly in a state of confusion. She was relieved that Gilbert was alive, yet filled with anger and resentment at both his and Tad’s actions that had resulted in a man’s death, and embarrassed he obviously had seen Tad kissing her in the garden—something she wished never had taken place, knowing the type of man Tad actually was. Overcome with anger and self-pity, she prayed, “Oh God, please help me to put all my feelings aside and only help Gilbert now. Not for me, or even him, but in memory of Joseph.”

  Ash
willow, England June 1865 Sitting amongst the guests in attendance for the wedding of Rupert Robbins and Annabelle Bailey-Smythe were Joshua and Elise Carmidy. Newlyweds themselves and guests of Anne and Edward Spencer, they were seated in the front pew where family normally sat. Anne Spencer, a cousin of Felicity, smiled at Elise.

  “Pity our dear Felicity couldn’t make the journey. I know she would have loved being here today, loving both Rupert and Annabelle so.”

  Not certain how she should respond, Elise nodded politely while tucking her hand in Joshua’s hand. Not recalling Felicity ever mentioning family members other than her beloved late aunt, or the close relationship she had with Lavinia’s sister, Annabelle, Elise was more mystified than ever before. From the day the two of them had docked in Plymouth, England, Elise and Joshua were made to feel welcomed by the Spencer’s as well as Felicity’s cousin Rupert and Annabelle, who greeted their ship.

  On the trip from Plymouth to the serene countryside of Devonshire, Felicity’s friends and family listened intently to how she and Benjamin were getting on, yet oddly enough no one inquired about Lavinia or James. Only in private did Rupert ask about his future sister-in-law. Being polite, Elise had replied respectfully, “Mrs. Sterling is a beautiful woman who has become extremely close with my stepfather’s parents, the Honeycutt’s.”

  Right after she had made the comment, she instinctively knew Rupert understood her not willing to say more on the subject by replying with equal restraint, “Right. The Honeycutt’s, you know were dear friends of my late father and Felicity’s dear Aunt Gwendolyn. As it was, many years ago, I traveled to New York with Father and stayed at their home, as well. How are they?”

  Judging from the look on his face, and how Rupert had chosen not to question her further regarding Lavinia, Elise responded politely, “The Honeycutt’s are quite well, thank you. When we return to America, I will be sure to extend your well wishes to them.”

  It was apparent to both Joshua and Elise their hosts were keeping their distances although they exhibited exemplary kindness and generosity to them. Joshua observed it must be the differences between their cultures, while Elise believed it stemmed from Lavinia.