The House of Secrets

by Elizabeth Blackwell

  As she folded the clothes on her bed, she was surprised by Mrs. Trimble.

  “I’ve come for your breakfast tray,” she said. She stared at the clothes laid out on the bed, the bag on the floor.

  “Is Peggy all right?” Evelyn asked. She couldn’t remember the housekeeper ever clearing her dishes before.

  “I’ve set her to polishing the silver,” Mrs. Trimble said. “She’s let the tea service go far too long.”

  “Over there.” Evelyn pointed to her bedside table. Mrs. Trimble waited a moment too long before moving toward the tray. Evelyn knew the woman was curious, but she fought the urge to offer an excuse. It had taken her months to learn that the lady of the house owed her staff no explanations.

  Everything Evelyn deemed necessary fit in the one bag. After it was buckled shut, she was left with hours to fill. She ate lunch alone in the dining room, picking nervously at the sliced chicken and potato salad. She took one last stroll around the garden, reliving her moments here with Will. Back inside, she was trying to distract herself with a book when there was a knock on the front door.

  She rushed to open it, and it was all she could do not to throw herself into Will’s arms. He smiled at her with delight. “It’s all arranged,” he whispered. “My car’s outside.”

  “Let me get my things,” Evelyn said. Her hands trembled as she closed the door behind him.

  Evelyn raced to her bedroom and picked up her bag. She took a quick glance around the room. So many memories here, only one of them happy. But that night with Will was enough to overshadow all the others. As she took her bag downstairs, she saw Peggy crossing the foyer holding a tray with two china cups.

  “What are you doing, Peggy?” she asked.

  “Mrs. Trimble saw Mr. Brewster was here—Mr. William, that is—and she said I should offer refreshments. If you think he’d prefer coffee, I could serve that as well, though it will take longer….”

  “I don’t think Mr. William plans on staying,” Evelyn said.

  Peggy nodded and turned back to the kitchen. Now that the moment was here, Evelyn felt time slow to an unendurable crawl. She was so close. To be denied escape now would be unbearable. She entered the parlor and saw Will sitting in an armchair, staring into the fireplace. She remembered lying with him on the floor, only a few feet away. She could still conjure up the feel of her hands as they moved along his back, warmed by the heat of the flames.

  She stood next to him. Her fingers trailed lightly over his shoulder.

  “I wish I could kiss you,” Will said quietly.

  “I know.” They both looked over at the fireplace, and Evelyn knew he was remembering that night. Already, it seemed, they could communicate without words.

  “I’m ready,” Evelyn said. “Where are we going?”

  “Indianapolis,” Will said. “I have a friend from school who married a girl out there, some sort of corn heiress. I don’t suppose she’ll let us stay with them, given the scandal that will follow, but he can be trusted to find us a discreet place for a day or two. No one will think to look for us there, and it will give us time to decide where to go next. I was thinking perhaps California.”

  “California?” It might as well have been China. Evelyn knew nothing about California other than stories of the Gold Rush. To her it was a place beyond the frontier, teetering on the very edge of the earth. Still, its isolation was a point in its favor. No one there would know anything about the Brewsters.

  The sound of horses and carriage wheels startled them to attention. They both knew, even before their eyes met in horror, that it must be Charles. Immediately, Will stood, as if to protect Evelyn, but she brushed past him. She needed to confront her husband herself.

  The front door swung open as Evelyn entered the foyer. There she found Charles, looking for a moment as dashing as the day she first met him. His hair had been brushed back and pomaded so it lay smooth against his head. His suit and coat hung immaculately from his tall frame. Then she saw the contempt in his eyes. Whatever had attracted her to him once had been extinguished long ago.

  “Dear wife,” he said with exaggerated courtesy. “Ah, Will. I thought that was your car out front.”

  Will nodded briefly toward his brother. “Charles.”

  “So, it’s a family gathering, is it?” Charles asked. “Strange. I never received an invitation.”

  “I thought you were in Washington,” Evelyn said.

  “Indeed I was,” Charles said, “until I received some very disturbing news. Something that demanded my immediate attention.”

  Evelyn allowed herself a flicker of hope. If Charles was distracted by business, she and Will might still have a chance to get away.

  “Mrs. Trimble!” Charles called out. Evelyn turned to see the housekeeper enter the foyer. The older woman stared fixedly at Charles.

  “I must thank you for your loyalty,” Charles told her. “You will be well compensated for it.” He flashed Evelyn and Will a wide, dangerous smile. “I was most concerned to hear that my brother was lurking around my garden, so very early in the morning. What could have been the reason?”

  Evelyn heard Will’s breathing quicken. The Trimbles’ cottage, perched at the edge of the property, looked out over the open field Will would have walked through on his way home this morning. He had made that journey so many times before, but always at night, when the darkness concealed his movements and the Trimbles’ curtains were closed. But today one of them could easily have seen Will pass by in the distance. They had a telephone. They would have called Alma. And Alma would not have hesitated to tell Charles.

  “Mrs. Trimble, you may have the rest of the day off,” Charles said, waving his hand in dismissal. “Tell the women in the kitchen as well.”

  As Mrs. Trimble’s heels clicked away across the marble, Will took a step toward his brother. Evelyn shook her head. Not yet.

  “Charles,” she said, “you know as well as I do that our marriage is a failure. I’ve asked for a divorce, which you’ve denied me. I’m left with no other course of action. I’m leaving.”

  Charles laughed. “Leaving?”

  “Yes, today,” Evelyn continued. She had to keep talking. If her words tumbled out fast enough, they might stun him into silence. She might win just enough time to walk out the door. “I believe the legal term is abandonment. I’m prepared to stay away as long as I must, until you are willing—”

  “Enough!” Charles shouted. “It’s time you learned your place!” He reached for her, but Will threw himself between them and grabbed Charles’s shoulders, pushing him out of the way.

  “Don’t touch her,” Will growled, gritting his teeth from the effort.

  The rest happened so suddenly that later Evelyn could only remember it as a blur of action. With a burst of fury, Charles flung himself at his brother, slamming Will’s body sideways. Will, disoriented, tried to stand, but Charles punched him in the jaw, then pulled open the front door as Will struggled to catch his breath. With a strength fueled by rage, Charles shoved his brother out the door, throwing him onto the porch. He turned the lock as Will’s fists began to beat against the heavy oak panels.

  “Let me in!” Will shouted.

  “So much for your noble prince,” Charles said, looking at Evelyn with disgust. “Good God, I’ve been a fool. You parade around as the virtuous wronged wife, when all along you’ve been sleeping with my own brother! Even I couldn’t have imagined such a betrayal.”

  “It’s not what you think,” Evelyn protested.

  “It’s exactly what I think,” Charles said, taking a step closer.

  “Evelyn!” Will called from outside. “Evelyn!”

  “I think perhaps I’ll punish you here,” Charles said. “Do you think your lover would enjoy overhearing what I do to you?”

  Evelyn looked around in a panic. She had so little time. She could run for the kitchen and throw herself behind Mrs. Gower. But the servants had probably slipped out the back door by now. Even if the cook or Peggy had
stayed behind, they would offer no protection. Charles was capable of killing them all in his frenzy to get to her.

  “Evelyn!” Will shouted again. “Get away from him! I’ll help you, I promise, just run!”

  Charles turned around and slammed his palm against the front door. “Get out of here!” he screamed. “You’ll never touch her again!”

  In that instant, Evelyn saw her chance. Charles would catch her if she tried to run through the parlor, but she might reach the stairs before him. She had only a second to act. As Charles faced the door, shouting at Will, she flung herself at the stairs, grabbing at the banister. She jumped to the third step, then raced the rest of the way. Charles’s footsteps stomped close behind her. She propelled herself into the bedroom and slammed the door closed behind her. Her fingers trembled as they slid the lock sideways.

  “You won’t lock me out again!” Charles shouted. “You idiot! You think I can’t break this door down?”

  Evelyn raced to the other side of the bedroom. She pulled open the French doors and ran onto the balcony. Could she jump? She stared at the flagstones on the patio below. It would be a long, hard fall.

  “Mrs. Gower!” she shouted into the void. “Peggy!” There was no answer from the kitchen windows beneath her.

  “You won’t keep me out!” Charles shouted. Evelyn heard the sound of his continued assault on the door. The wood panels shuddered with the force of his blows.

  She was trapped. She could lock herself in the bathroom, but it wouldn’t take long for him to break that door as well. She could jump from the balcony, a fall that might do as much damage as Charles’s fists. There was one other choice, but the escape it offered would be fleeting. If she took the hidden staircase up to the roof, she would be at Charles’s mercy at the very top of the house.

  Over the cracking wood, Evelyn heard the faint sound of Will’s voice, calling her name.

  At that moment, the bedroom door broke off its hinges. Charles stumbled into the doorway, staggering as he tried to right himself. Will was on his way. But not fast enough. Evelyn had to give him enough time to reach her.

  She pulled open the narrow door in the wall and flung it closed behind her. There was no lock; Charles would be behind her in seconds. If she could get a head start on the rooftop walkway, it might be enough. By now, Will would be racing up the front stairs to get to her. By the time she reached the roof, he might already be in her bedroom….

  It was a gloomy, overcast afternoon, and Evelyn clutched the railing with both hands as she hurried along the narrow wood planks. She’d always loved the view of Oak Hill from here, a collection of tiny dollhouses. It seemed impossible that this nightmare could be unfolding in such a peaceful setting. Evelyn had gone halfway around the roof before she realized she was still alone. Charles had been right behind her in the bedroom. He must have seen her come up here. Where was he? And where was Will? Shivering with fear and cold, she waited.

  When the footsteps came, they were slow and deliberate. It had to be Will—he must have stopped Charles, somehow, and was now coming to rescue her. Still, she remained motionless. When she peered around the edge of the rooftop and saw Charles’s dark hair emerging from the door to the stairs, she almost cried out. As he walked toward her, a flash of silver caught her eye. He was carrying something in his hand.

  “Evelyn!” Charles exclaimed, as if surprised to find her in such an unexpected spot. “Surely you see there is nowhere left to hide.”

  She remained silent, waiting. As he approached, she recognized the silver object as a gun.

  He smiled, acknowledging her fear. “Ah, yes, this old relic. Haven’t you seen it before? But then, you never spent much time in my office, did you? It’s my grandfather’s dueling pistol—as if the old man ever had to fight for his honor. Despite its age, it still fires remarkably well. Yes, I’ve tried it. Not in a duel, of course, although perhaps that might be one way out of this mess. Shall I challenge Will to a duel? Would that satisfy you?”

  “Charles,” Evelyn said, trying to keep her tone level. “There’s no need for a gun.”

  “There wouldn’t be, if you hadn’t felt the need to be so dramatic. Running away from me like a lunatic! You forget that you brought all this on yourself by inviting my brother into your bed.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She would say anything to make him lower the gun.

  “So, will you stop this ridiculousness, and follow me back to the house? We should be able to talk this over as adults.”

  “Yes.” Evelyn knew he didn’t want to talk. But if she gave in to him now, he might let her live.

  It was so quiet in that moment, as Charles slowly lowered the gun and waited for her to approach. Then the stillness was broken by Will’s thundering footsteps. Evelyn opened her mouth to warn him about the gun, but before she could say a word, Charles whirled around and pulled the trigger. The crack of gunfire exploded through the sky, and Will fell. Evelyn couldn’t even scream.

  But then, seconds later, she saw that Will wasn’t dead. Not even hurt, because he was standing again, running and tackling Charles, knocking the gun from his brother’s hands. The gun clattered against the rooftop before falling down to the front drive. The men twisted together in a fight so intense that Evelyn couldn’t distinguish who was who. She could only hear the grunting of their breath. She stood, frozen, as they kicked and punched and groaned.

  And then, suddenly, one pushed against the other with such force that a wood beam supporting the railing cracked. The punches continued, and the support post snapped from the impact of the body slammed against it. The railing came apart, and Evelyn watched as Charles rolled off the walkway into the emptiness beyond. A single scream rang out before ending in a sickening thud.

  Will pulled himself up onto all fours and crawled toward Evelyn. She couldn’t stop shaking as he folded her into his arms.

  “What happened?” she mumbled against his chest, the words tangling in her tongue. “Where is he?”

  “He’s gone.”

  It was over. Charles wouldn’t come for her ever again.

  “Did he hurt you?” Will asked, moving his hands along her shoulders and arms, checking she was still intact.

  “I had to run around to the back door,” Will murmured. “I came as fast as I could, my darling. I was so afraid I’d be too late.”

  They huddled together in silence, but Evelyn’s mind was racing. Her husband’s body was lying in the front drive. A gun would be found somewhere nearby. The wood railings were broken where Charles had fallen through. The servants knew Will had been in the house earlier. Someone would have heard the gunshot. All these pieces of information jumbled together, then arranged themselves in a disturbing pattern. She grabbed Will’s hands.

  “Will, you need to go,” she pleaded.

  “Why?” he asked. “I’m not leaving you. Come, we’ll go to the station right now, as we planned.”

  “Don’t you see how that will look? If we disappear now, leaving Charles behind like this? They’ll come after us and we’ll never be free.”

  Will sighed. “You’re right. I suppose we should call the police. And Mother. Oh, my God, what will I tell her?” Will’s shoulders slumped, and Evelyn saw the exhaustion of his fight with Charles etched into his face.

  Evelyn fought to keep her thoughts focused. She could work it out, but there was so little time.

  “No, you can’t stay,” Evelyn said. “Everything points to you, don’t you see? You were fighting with Charles, and he was pushed off the roof. You and I can insist it was an accident, but you could be charged with murder anyway.”

  Will stared at her. “But it was an accident. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Of course,” Evelyn said. “You saved my life. But think how it will seem to someone who wasn’t here. Who’s to say you weren’t the one holding the gun? Charles is the pride of the family. Even your mother may speak against you.”

  “She’ll need someone to blame. The thought of facing her�
��”

  “You won’t have to.” Evelyn cut him off. “I’ll say it was my fault. A tragic accident during a domestic argument.”

  “But I can’t leave you here, to bear all that alone.”

  “You need to. It’s the only way. You must leave town as soon as possible.” Evelyn thought for a moment, then continued. “I’ll say you stopped at the house to say goodbye to me before leaving on a journey west. You cut your visit short when Charles came home in a foul temper. You left for the train station, and that was the last I saw of you. If I tell a story close enough to the truth, I may even be treated with sympathy.”

  “Not by Mother,” Will said. “Evelyn—don’t underestimate her anger.”

  Evelyn nodded. “I don’t know what she’ll do. Still, the family’s reputation is sacred. She may hate me in private, but she’ll do anything to avoid a public scandal.”

  Will considered her plan, then nodded. “If you’re sure.”

  “I am. It’s the only way.”

  “I’ll send word as soon as I’m able,” Will promised. “We’ll start afresh, just as we planned.”

  They stood and walked carefully back to the door, then down the stairs to Evelyn’s bedroom, clinging to each other all the while. The house was quiet.

  “Peggy! Mrs. Gower!” Evelyn called. There was no answer. Although she’d been hurt by their desertion earlier, she saw now it was for the best. No one would know that Will had been here when Charles died.

  “Go, go,” Evelyn urged, as they approached the front door.

  “There’s one thing I have to do first,” Will said. He opened the door and went outside. Evelyn watched him peer from side to side on the porch, then hurry off to the right. In a moment he was back, his expression grim.

  “I had to be sure about Charles,” Will said. “He’s dead.”

  Evelyn stepped back inside. She didn’t want to see what was lying in her front garden.

  Will gathered her in his arms. “Never forget that I love you,” he whispered against her neck. “Promise you’ll come to me.”