Doves Migration

by Linda Daly

  ~

  April, 1866

  Pixie Halt, Devon England Anne, watching her cousin as she and Rupert took a walk through the gardens, sighed. “Oh Annabelle, are you certain Felicity isn’t homesick? She’s so sullen, not the least bit happy, although she does make a brave attempt for appearance sake.”

  “She’s just having a rough pregnancy and with her and Benjamin’s home still not completed, I’m sure that adds to her worries.”

  Shaking her head, Anne said, “After years of not having been blessed with a child, and now that she and Benjamin actually are going to have a family, you would think Felicity would be bubbling over with enthusiasm. However, it’s just the opposite. Why, she was more excited picking out gifts for Elise and Joshua’s twins then picking out something for her own child. It was Benjamin who purchased what meager things they have for that poor little thing, and heaven knows the baby could come anytime now.”

  Annabelle, wanting desperately to change the subject, said, “Speaking of Elise and Joshua, did you receive a photograph of them in the post?”

  Smiling proudly, Anne said, “Indeed I did. Wasn’t that so kind of them to send one along to Edward and me? It tickles me to think Elise has two little ones to contend with. I was just telling Edward this very morning, seeing how proudly Joshua was holding his little daughter, Sarah Tess, and Elise smiling as only she can while holding her little son, Andrew Michael, just how fortunate they truly are. When I think how she could have miscarried after her dreadful fall down those stairs, I shudder.”

  “Yes, they were very fortunate indeed…” Annabelle’s voice trailed off recalling the letter she had received from Elise, following her accident and how Joshua, who had blamed himself never left her side.

  For months, Elise had been cooped up in the house, only occasionally going to the Honeycutt’s or her and Joshua’s parents’ home for dinner. Bored and miserable from her condition, having grown exceptionally large with child, Elise had insisted Joshua stay home with her more. This was impossible since he had been called upon to help his college buddy, William Maxwell Evarts to defend the president, Andrew Johnson, from impeachment.

  Outraged by Joshua’s lack of tentativeness when he was leaving for the office, Elise reaching to grab his arm, lost her footing, and rolled down the stairs, knocking herself unconscious. Grief stricken and blaming himself for her accident, Joshua stayed by her side for the duration of her pregnancy, turning over all his findings to his father and Tad, who was an apprentice at his father’s law firm.

  Anne, clearing her throat, noticing Annabelle lost in her own thoughts, said, “Were you thinking of Elise and Joshua, or your babe?”

  “Both I suppose,” Annabelle said, smiling rubbing her protruding stomach. “How ironic that all four of us—Elise, Miranda, Felicity and I-will be new mothers at the same time. I just hope that we all will be able to accept motherhood and our new life as well as Elise and Joshua seem to have adjusted. Earlier, when I read Elise’s letter and she wrote, ‘Well at last my Joshua and I’ve not only weathered the storm through a war by our love, but we’ve finally learned how to bind that love through daily life as man and wife’. I couldn’t help but wonder if all of us will be as lucky as Elise and Joshua are.”

  “Why Annabelle, I’m shocked! Never have I heard you speak so negatively. Surely you aren’t suggesting you and Rupert are having problems …”

  “Oh no. Rupert and I couldn’t be happier, despite Lavinia constantly being under foot.”

  “Which reminds me… Just how long are we to be graced with her company? I know she just returned from the winter in London, but must she remain here the entire summer?”

  As Annabelle and Anne continued their conversation, Rupert and Felicity had taken a seat amongst the rose bushes her late aunt had planted. Feeling the child growing inside her, feeling a kick to her ribs, she winced. Just as she had when the child’s father had impregnated her.

  Realizing Rupert was watching her, she smiled and softly said, “I’ve longed for the spring to finally come so I could come here. Auntie Gwen loved her roses.” Felicity said, nostalgically. Suddenly feeling as if her aunt were near her, recalling how often the two of them had come to this very spot, Felicity thought, Oh Auntie Gwen I need you so. What am I to do?

  Her heartache was deep, and Felicity needing advice, desperately looked at the budding roses, preparing to bloom. “You made Gwendolyn very happy in her last years Felicity. In fact, you’ve made so many happy.”

  “Oh Rupert, how kind of you to say, but somehow I don’t feel as if I’ve been able to make anyone happy these days. Least of all Benjamin or myself.”

  As he glanced at his cousin, Rupert desperately wanted to ease her burden. Having already discussed with her on numerous occasions after Felicity had discovered she was pregnant and that there was no chance the child she was carrying could be Benjamin’s, it had been extremely hard for Felicity to admit that the two of them had not been intimate for weeks before the attack, with Benjamin in Washington. And then following the attack, although Benjamin had been affectionate and attentive, he had respectfully never come to her, sensing she wasn’t ready.

  Once discovering she was pregnant with another man’s child, Felicity couldn’t allow herself to be intimate with Benjamin. Feeling unclean and that her body had betrayed their marriage in the most perverse way conceivable, she found it even difficult to allow Benjamin to hold her, for she was too ashamed. This all resulted in Felicity punishing herself from being loved by the man she desperately needed.

  “Dear Felicity, from early on in our relationship, the one thing I valued most was our ability to discuss whatever was on our minds. And now, more than ever, I would like to speak from my heart.”

  Sighing, fearing that Rupert wanted to speak of the child she carried and her lack of enthusiasm, she said, “Oh Rupert, if this is another discussion about the baby and how I’m dealing with carrying James Sterling spawn … .”

  “That is precisely what I’m worried about. That child growing in you is not just James’ child, but he or she is yours, too. Now I’ve respected your wishes by not discussing with Benjamin yours and his relationship, but surely, you know he realizes the child isn’t his, especially after he saw what happened the night Annabelle found you. I’m not proud of the way I behaved that evening, but Felicity, by you refusing to discuss that night with Benjamin, or the child you are having, the distance between you is growing. Why I can’t recall the last time I saw you and he have any physical contact with one another.”

  “Please Rupert, don’t you think I know that? But I cannot bring myself to allow him to touch me. I feel so dirty and cheap. And I certainly cannot discuss the attack, not after all this time—especially now that my nightmare of that night lives on as everyday this child grows inside me. Every time I feel it kicking me … I think of how it was conceived and I cringe.”

  “I can’t imagine the pain you carry in your heart. Yet, I would be amiss if I didn’t point out to you Felicity, the prison you have forced yourself and Benjamin to live in, is of your own doing. Your husband loves you and loathes himself for not protecting you. And don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. He’s a lost man without his faith. A preacher without God in his heart is a shell of a man, and only you Felicity, can release him and the bondage you have placed each other in.

  “It is obvious to me that Benjamin thinks of this child as only yours, loving you has he does. Has it not been he who has prepared for the birth of your child? Which is admirable, but knowing Benjamin as I do, I wouldn’t expect anything less of such a fine and good man.

  “I implore you Felicity, please think of your love for Benjamin. He may not be the man who created your child—that much is true—but if you allow him to be, he will be your child’s father. And no better father could that babe ever have. You and only you are keeping Benjamin out of your life. And far more will be lost then what has already taken place on that dreadful night. The love you and Benjamin shared will be
lost too.”

  Felicity, in tears, sat starring out into the garden and Rupert kissed her forehead. “Sit among your dear aunt’s garden, my dear, and please think of what your aunt sacrificed to bring you two wonderful people together. Surely, if your love was able to endure all that you and Benjamin went through to be joined together, your love can get beyond this as well.”

  ~

  Returning to the home of her grandmother’s family which had been boarded up for decades until Felicity and Benjamin had returned to England, she looked about for any sign of Benjamin. Seeing a light in the carriage house, Felicity made her way over the meadows and watched her husband from the doorway. Her heart filled with love for this kind-hearted man who knelt on the ground as he painstakingly sanded what appeared to be a cradle and tears welled up in her eyes.

  After several minutes of watching him, and thinking about what Rupert had told her earlier, she softly said, “Hello darling, what are you making?”

  “Felicity, my love. I didn’t hear you arrive.” Standing up in front of the wooden cradle, shielding it from her, Benjamin said, “Just a little something for the babe. I had hoped to surprise you.”

  Noting that Benjamin referred to the child, as he always did, she said, “You did. I’ve a confession to make. I’ve been standing here watching you for sometime. Why didn’t you tell me you were making the baby’s cradle?”

  “And spoil the surprise?” Benjamin smiled lovingly at her.

  Missing his smile, Felicity, not remembering the last time either of them smiled, asked, “Benjamin, will you do me a favor, darling?”

  “Anything, my love.”

  “Will you please come and hold me.”

  Immediately, Benjamin brushed off the wood dust from his hands and his coat, and came to Felicity. Tenderly he placed his arms around her and feeling her tremble, held her closer to him. It had been weeks since she had seemed remotely interested in him and feeling her next to him now, Benjamin closed his eyes, taking in her scent.

  Pleadingly Felicity looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “My dear Ben, do you know how much I love you? And how lucky I feel knowing what a wonderful father you will be to my baby?”

  “Oh Felicity …” His words garbled, as he held her close. “I love you. Can you ever forgive me?”

  Glancing at him and brushing his face, seeing specks of wood shavings in his beard, she placed her finger to his lips and softly said, “There is nothing to forgive. You are my husband and I have selfishly locked you out of my heart when I needed you the most, and you have needed me. Can we please darling, put the past behind us, never speaking of the pain we’ve caused each other and please just let our love for one another build a future together?”

  Kissing her fingers and paying extra attention to her thumb, he kissed it tenderly just as he had done the night he had proposed to her. Overcome with emotion, Felicity grasped onto Benjamin’s neck. “Oh darling, I love you so.”

  Feeling the baby kick inside her, she pulled slightly from Benjamin and taking his hand in hers, brought it to her stomach.

  “Little one, this is your father. The most wonderful man I have ever known.”

  Benjamin, being allowed to feel the life growing in his wife’s womb had long ago stopped thinking of the child as James Sterling’s, but only as Felicity’s and a tear ran down his cheek. “Oh Felicity, I swear to you, I will be the best father I can for the child God has finally blessed you with. Our child.”

  ~ Twenty-three ~

  Restless Spirits Laid to Rest

  Hearing his wife scream out in pain again, Gilbert jumped up from his seat and looked at Chester, Lucas Brown’s elderly former slave. “Christ almighty, what’s takin’ them so long?”

  “Sit on down there, Mas’sa Gilbert. They be back with the doc when they be back, and all the pacing around you doin’ ain’t gonna bring them here none the faster. Tess and Bessie is in there with yer missus, and she’ll be just fine. Reminds me of the night, Miz Catherine had our little Miranda. Mas’sa Lucas, he nearly wore out the rug just like you are now.”

  From upstairs came the sounds of Miranda’s screams once again, followed this time by Bessie calling out to her, “Push honey child, you can do it! Come on Miranda girl, let your Bessie see her babe.”

  Gilbert jumped from his seat and began climbing the stairs leading to their bedroom, pausing upon hearing Chester calling to him. “Now Mas’sa Gilbert, you ‘no they ain’t gonna let you in there till they good and ready. So come on back down here.”

  Wringing his hands through his hair, Gilbert looked anxiously at Chester. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I can’t just do nothin’ when my Mandy needs me.”

  “Miz Miranda’s got her Bessie and Tess with her. Ain’t no need for you to see her likes that. Now come sit back down before ya makes me get on up out of this here chair and come and make ya. I ain’t about to get Bessie riled at me.”

  Smiling wearily at the older man who could barely walk, Gilbert did as he asked. Hearing his wife cry out again, he swore, “Damn it, Lucas, where in the hell are ya?”

  Not more than three miles from their home, Lucas, along with Michael, Montgomery, and Doc Watson were fighting for their lives surrounded by men on horse back with white hooded sheets carrying torches and guns.

  “Get on down from there, you uppity nigger!” Michael recognizing the voice of the man hollering up at Montgomery, shouted, “Thomas, is that you? Christ, what in the hell is wrong with you?”

  The man Michael was directing his attention too, still mounted on his horse, with a whip in his hand, dressed in a white hooded sheet, looked down at him and Lucas who stood alongside the carriage. “Get on back inside that fancy coach of yours Honeycutt, or you’ll die alongside this here bastard.”

  Without warning, the hooded man cracked his whip, striking Montgomery across the neck and face, causing the injured man to yelp out in pain. Just then the other men circled the buckboard yelling and grouping at him until one managed to get Montgomery off balance and he fell to the ground.

  At once, Michael ran to protect Montgomery, shielding him with his body. “Get out of here Thomas. This man has caused you no harm.”

  Hearing a gun hammer cock, and looking up at the man Michael believed was the man he had hired to oversee his wife’s home following the war, Michael calmly said, “Is this the way you repay my kindness, Thomas?”

  “I have no beef with you Honeycutt, it’s him we want.”

  Another man yelled, “Shoot ‘m both, Thomas. He ain’t nothing but some Yank anyway!”

  “Shut up!” And with that, Thomas’ horse reared up and the other man, already aiming his gun, shot his pistol, hitting Michael in the shoulder. Seeing his friend being shot, Lucas, taking his cane, began striking at the hooded men that were approaching him, and in the scuffle Lucas took a bullet in the stomach.

  Doc Watson, who had been inside the coach until that time, and hearing other horses approaching, stepped out of the coach with gun in hand and yelled, “Get out of here, Thomas Hastings! War hero or not, so help me God I’ll shoot you down as sure as I’m standing here.”

  Taking aim at the doctor who had treated him for his wounds after he had been ambushed during the war, and those of his injured men, Thomas yelled, “Get on back inside the coach, George. Let me and my men do what we gotta do.”

  “No. Damn it!” George Watson yelled. “There’s been enough bloodshed.” Seeing Thomas point his revolver back toward Michael and Montgomery, taking aim, the doctor who had saved so many lives in his career shot Thomas in the head and he immediately fell from his saddle.

  With Thomas’ slain body covered in a white sheet, now dripping in his own blood, lying on the dirt road, and with another buggy approaching, the other hooded men rode off into the dark of night, yelling they’d be back. George Watson, still holding the revolver that had taken a life, stood staring at the hooded man he had once saved from multiple gunshot wounds in stunned disbelief.

  LINDADALY Jumping
from Montgomery’s body, Michael went to Lucas who was leaning against his carriage, grasping at his stomach. “Get me to Miranda, old friend. I’ve got to see my grandson before I die,” Lucas gasped, obviously in great pain.

  With the other buggy approaching, Michael with the aid of George, who had since dropped his revolver, helped Lucas back inside the carriage. Glancing at Montgomery, Michael said, “Are you okay to drive?”

  “Yes, sir.” Boarding the buckboard and hearing George Watson say he’d stay there with Thomas’ body until authorities could be alerted, Montgomery cracked the whip and the carriage raced back to the O’Flaherty’s newly constructed plantation.

  Back at the O’Flaherty’s, Gilbert knelt beside the bed of his wife, lovingly kissing her forehead and gazing down at their son.

  “Oh Mandy, he’s beautiful … like his mother.”

  Smiling, she said, “Handsome, darling. And I think he looks like his papa.”

  “I told you he was a boy.”

  Hearing the sounds of horses and Michael’s voice calling for Bessie and Tess, Gilbert stood and asked Miranda, “Darling, can I take our son to introduce him to his grandfather?”

  “Yes. That would be nice. I need some rest anyway. Please darling, tell Papa the name we’ve chosen.”

  Nodding, Gilbert tenderly took his son in his arms and kissing his wife affectionately, spoke lovingly to the baby, who looked up at him sucking on his fist.

  “Hello there little man, what a strapping fine lad ya are.”

  Walking slowly from the bedroom and down the hallway, Gilbert’s happiness soon faded upon seeing Lucas, bleeding, slumped over and being led into the parlor by Michael and Tess. Tucking his son closer to his chest, Gilbert descended the steps and walked into the parlor, asking, “What the hell has happened?” Fear gripped at his heart seeing the man he had grown to love who was bleeding profusely from his midriff.