“I can only imagine what a relief this will be for him. I have to go back out in a while to meet a man who has been recommended to guard the house during the daytime when I’m not here…”
“Yes, but don’t forget, we have your mother to protect us!”
“That’s amusing, but don’t let her age fool you, she’s tough. I’m also going to stop and send a telegraph to George while I’m out to alert everyone there that Monique is in the States. I stopped by to see Patrick before I came home. I don’t think Monique would harm any of his family, but I want them to be aware she’s in town.”
“Is there anything you haven’t thought of, Holt?”
“Nope. Can’t think of a thing,” he said smiling, seemingly pleased.
Chapter Twenty
Washington, D.C.
Laurel half-heartedly smiled at people as she walked along the irregularly laid brick sidewalks. Her mind remained preoccupied thinking that life at Holt’s family home hadn’t changed much for her, except that she felt lonely and found the days long and boring, but she couldn’t express those thoughts.
Her father, on the other hand, made great strides recovering from the brutal attack he suffered and the stroke he had as a result of his injuries. He gained strength and began to walk with the use of a cane. And while she doubted his right hand would ever return to normal, he did show some improvement, but now used his left hand more proficiently.
Holt left every morning for the Capitol and was occupied tying up loose ends and projects that he had fallen behind on since he had taken leave going back and forth to South Carolina, as well as time spent helping her find her father.
He was also kept busy training his replacement. He met with Monique and gave her a copy of the divorce papers. He also told her that he was expecting to receive an annulment from the Pope, and maybe after he had a long discussion with Jacqueline, he might consider minimum supervised visitation rights, only. He also reluctantly agreed to give her a sum of money to be determined by his attorney, to help her find a place to settle, now that her career was finished. She told him she was only interested in joint custody of Jacqueline and of course, money on a permanent basis to support Jacqueline, which is what he thought she wanted in the first place. Money. Because without Jacqueline, he didn’t have to pay her a dime.
“I suggested she needed to hire an attorney because I would never agree to joint custody. That’s when she stormed out of the house,” Holt said, smiling.
Laurel’s hopes that he’d be free of his connection with Monique and that they might have a chance to be together without court battles and custody hearings, soon began to fade. She didn’t think that was good for Jacqueline and worried that she might begin to resent her once she became acquainted with her mother.
And Holt tried to convince her every chance he had, that he would never accept their living together as husband and wife without marriage and no matter how strongly she felt now, he was certain being married outside the Church would eventually haunt her. She wanted to prove him wrong, but after a while, her conscience weakened her hopes.
“You know deep down in your heart, Laurel, that would be the beginning of the end of our love affair. And I love you too deeply to ever consider such an arrangement, no matter how heartbreaking being apart will be.”
True to his word though, most days he made an effort to come home a little earlier in the afternoon in order for them to spend time together. But, the more time he spent with her only made the upcoming and permanent parting more profound; the absolute end. Unless someone could assure her that miracles did happen or the postman delivered the papers from Rome today, she remained pessimistic.
She was unable to find the words to let Holt know how much she loved him—something that frustrated her because she was well aware that the day for his departure would come all too soon.
She didn’t have the heart to tell him she wanted to return to Maryland. The longer she was with him, the more time he spent with her, only served to make their parting more traumatic. She wanted to leave and wanted to be alone in her room, where she could cry and mourn the loss of the only man she knew she’d ever love.
Junie spent most of her day with the kitchen help, sharing her favorite recipes and sitting down and chatting while they did all the cooking. Needless to say, Ole Junie loved living at the Flanagan’s.
Holt’s mother, while a gracious hostess, had her charities and club events, plus she spent a couple of days a week with Patrick at the company office, keeping abreast of the financial matters and the running of the mine in South America.
All that left Laurel to herself, taking walks, going to museums and reading, but she was still bored and while she knew she’d leave Holt and return to Maryland with a broken heart, she was anxious to go and reopen the Bed and Breakfast.
She needed work to keep her mind occupied. And, she realized that she had come to rely on Holt too much. Something that was an easy thing to do because he was able to make quick decisions and he took care of whatever needed to be done almost immediately. Although the reality of depending on him made her conscious of the fact that had been a mistake because after he was gone, she’d be the only one responsible for the constant care of her father and Junie. She’d miss having Holt even more if that were possible. Her heart already ached every time she thought of the loneliness she’d endure without him in her life.
As she returned to the Flanagan’s house from her walk, she met a courier about to knock on the front door.
“May I help you?”
The young man turned and said, “I’m looking for a Miss Laurel Bray.”
“I’m Miss Bray.”
“I have an invitation for you, miss.”
The young man handed her an envelope and mounted his horse and left. Laurel sat on the front step, not in any hurry to go inside, and opened the mail. She placed her hand at the base of her throat when she discovered the note was from Monique.
She wanted Laurel to meet her at Analostan, the home she once shared with Holt. The note said that she had been staying there temporarily and that she was leaving on a ship for England at the end of the week. Monique also asked her not to tell Holt that she had written, but she had a piece of jewelry and a letter she wanted to give Laurel to keep for Jacqueline for when she was older, in case she never got a chance to see her daughter.
Laurel looked up and down the street, hoping to find Holt arriving home early. She didn’t know what to do about meeting Monique, but when she thought of what she had missed these past seven years, never having seen Jacqueline, her heart ached for her. Directions to the island home were also enclosed with the note, and she thought she might be able to get there and back before anyone noticed she was gone, and before sunset.
Entering the house, Laurel placed the message from Monique on the table in the entry hall for Holt to see. She didn’t want him to think she went behind his back by agreeing to meet with Monique, but her heart fluttered at the thought that Monique would be returning to London. She grabbed her purse, stuck the directions in her pocket, and headed for the bridge leading to Virginia and the causeway that led to the estate.
The island wasn’t very far, Holt had pointed out the mansion from the canal one day and she knew how to get there. Crossing the bridge into Virginia gave her a slight cause when a fierce gust of wind nearly blew her sideways.
She laughed, regaining her balance and hurried her step to get off the bridge and away from the railing and the water below. Her mind was preoccupied with what she might say to Monique. She was well aware of the fact that she had to watch every word. Deciding on telling her very little, other than the fact that her father was a friend of the Flanagan’s and was recuperating at their home, was all she intended to say.
She’d accept the gift and letter for Jacqueline and head back to Georgetown as soon as Monique gave her the jewelry and once she was back at the Flanagan’s, she’d give Holt the package for Jacqueline and let him decide what he wanted to do with the
inheritance for her.
The marsh grasses were overgrown along the side of the causeway leading up to the brick mansion and reminded Laurel of the Sea Islands. She inhaled deep breaths and listened as the wind rustled through the tall grass, wishing she still lived in South Carolina with her family.
She turned around in a circle a couple of times, taking in the scenery and listening to the sounds of ducks and geese and birds singing, but in spite of that she was surprised how quiet the island was, especially compared to the noise on the streets of Washington.
How sad, she thought, that Holt felt he had to leave their lovely home after Monique deserted him and Jacqueline. She wondered what made Monique do such a thing and couldn’t imagine anyone deliberately leaving a child.
As she crossed a little wooden bridge onto the gravel entryway, she noticed a beautiful fountain centered in the circle covered with moss and filled with dead leaves and debris. Holt had told her the estate had been used for a Confederate recruiting station during the war and he had been disappointed to see what terrible condition the soldiers left the place, when he visited there one day.
At the sound of the front door opening, Laurel looked up to find Monique coming to greet her.
“Thank you for coming. I hope Holt won’t be too upset when he finds out, but he refuses to see me anymore unless I agree to sign a paper giving up my pursuit for partial custody of Jacqueline,” she said, as Laurel followed her inside the mansion. “I won’t do that. He’s had her to himself for the first part of her life. I deserve a second chance.”
“I don’t know anything about his wanting you to sign any papers, but I thought you were returning to London.”
“Yes, I am. I will leave instructions with my attorney in case Holt changes his mind and then I’ll come back to the States to live. I’m ready to give him some time to think this through and I’ll leave the negotiations up to the lawyers.”
Laurel ignored the remark that Monique thought she deserved a second chance, but looking around at the dirt and debris on the marble floors, she felt sad for Monique. “You’ve been staying here?”
“Don’t fret. I only come here during the day when I have nothing to do. Follow me. I have the jewelry upstairs. I want Jacqueline to have my diamond and emerald necklace that Holt gave me when we were first married.”
“That’s very thoughtful, but do you think I’ll be safe carrying that with me through the streets of Georgetown?”
“You’ll be fine,” she said, smiling. She opened a door to a bedroom and held it open while Laurel entered.
As Laurel turned to comment on the empty room, the door slammed behind her and she heard the key in the lock. “Monique? What are you doing?”
Her response was a horrible cackle. “I had planned to hold you hostage until Holt agreed to my requests, but was afraid he’d guess I had taken you here and he’d show up with the cavalry.”
“What are you planning, Monique? Let me out of here, now.”
“No! He won’t let me have what I want and I’m not going to allow him to have what he wants—YOU! I’ve seen him come home most afternoons and watched from a distance as you two strolled along the canal holding hands. He could have given me what I wanted in exchange for you.”
“We are willing to sacrifice our love rather than allow Jacqueline to live with you. You don’t love her. You never wanted Jacqueline after all, like you never wanted Holt—only his money.”
“Aren’t you clever?”
“You can’t leave me here, open this door.”
“I want you to know that I had my attorney set up a meeting with Holt, now he won’t be coming home early today. Don’t fret. You’ll be all right. You won’t starve to death, because I’m setting this place on fire with you inside. My parting present to my dear husband.”
“You’re crazy, Monique. Holt will hunt you down.”
“Well, he doesn’t know you’re here yet and I’ll be long gone by the time he discovers what happened.”
“He will know sooner than you think. I left your note on the table in the hallway for him to find when he gets home,” she rushed to say, trying to stall for time.
“You think I’d let you live in order for the two of you to be happy? Never. He loved me. I was his first love and only love until you came along. You’re nothing but a poor soul he picked up on a riverboat. And, I’m doing you a favor because I hate him and you would too, eventually.”
“How do you know where we met?”
“I have ways to find out what I need to know. I still have some money and jewels left.”
“That’s where you made your mistake, Monique. Holt is much more of a man than good looks and money. He’s a wonderful father and Jacqueline is sweet and charming. Why don’t you let me out of here and then go back to England and leave us alone.”
“No. I had plans to hold you for ransom and now that I’m convinced he won’t ever change his mind, I decided to let you die with this mansion.”
“Holt will give you a lot of money if you settle on some supervised visits with Jacqueline and go away.”
Laurel waited a few seconds, hoping Monique was thinking over her suggestion, until she saw a piece of rag being pushed under the door. She knelt down and tried to pull the rag through, but her hand got soaked with kerosene.
Frightened, she wiped her hand on her skirt, and then moved to the farthest part of the room. There she opened the closet, but wasn’t sure if she should hide in there, afraid she might get trapped. She found a piece of broken baseboard on the floor, grabbed hold, and smashed out a window.
She looked down and decided she might be all right if she could jump onto a small part of the roof from the sun porch that stuck out a few feet from the house. As she raised a leg to climb out the window, she was startled by a loud, frightening scream.
Monique yelled, “Help me! Somebody help me.”
Laurel ran to the door and looked through the keyhole to see Monique rolling on the ground, the hem of her skirt was on fire. But instead of dowsing the flames, the worn, decaying carpet caught on fire and quickly spread across the hall and down the carpeted stairs.
“Unlock the door, Monique. I’ll help you. Come in here and I’ll try to put out the flames.”
“No!”
“Oh God, Holt, where are you?” Laurel cried, as she tried to force open the door.
“Laurel? Laurel, where are you?” Holt’s familiar voice called.
“Holt! I’m locked in a room upstairs.”
Holt’s access to the upstairs was now blocked and before he ran back outside, he yelled, “Laurel race to a window to let me know where you are. Hurry!”
He found Laurel looking out the bedroom window. “Laurel. Listen to me,” he said, as he climbed up the side of the house onto the overhang, “I want you to come out of the window, hang on until I tell you to let go, and I’ll catch you.”
“I’m scared, Holt.”
“Laurel, you’ve been through worse. If you come out backward, and push off the wall with your hands and knees, you will fall away from the building and I promise I will catch you.”
Laurel saw the flames coming underneath the door and knew she didn’t have time to sit there and ponder the situation. She needed to act immediately.
She sat on the windowsill, turned around, grabbed onto the ledge, and held on, “Holt I can’t hold on very long.”
“All right, now push out and let go at the same time. You will fall backward, and I’m right here to catch you. Now, Laurel, now…”
Within seconds of pushing away from the house, Laurel felt her body plunge into Holt’s and they fell back together onto the roof. Holt grabbed hold of her to keep them from falling to the ground. “Here,” he said, “I have to lower you down, then I have to see if I can find Monique.”
Holt leaned over the ledge and lowered her as far as his arms could stretch. “Ready? I’m going to let go—it’s only a few feet to the ground.”
“Ready,” she answered and la
nded without ceremony on the thick lawn, except that she fell on her shoulder.
Holt jumped over to the window of the bedroom and hung on with all his might, pushing the toes of his boots into the bricks to help himself climb into the room. He hurried to the door, kicked it open with all his strength, but was instantly met with flames that now engulfed the walls of the hallway. There was no response when he called to Monique.
Convinced he was too late to save Monique, he rushed back and climbed out the window onto the roof below and jumped to the ground.
Laurel raced to Holt’s side and he opened his arms and held her close. They didn’t speak, but stood there and watched the mansion burn…
Epilogue
South Carolina
Laurel stood at the window of her new home, looking at the acreage that spread out before her. Many wonderful things had happened during the last two years that she could hardly believe all that had been accomplished on the plantation they called Mossland II.
In the midst of the country’s struggling economy and reconstruction, Holt and George had managed to cultivate crops of rice and produce pecans from the trees that had already been planted there to create a profitable plantation.
She smoothed her hands over her stomach and adjusted the full skirt of the champagne-colored lace-wedding gown, closed her eyes and smiled.
Recalling the day that Monique attempted to kill her, was an act of horror that changed Laurel’s life forever. The brick exterior of the mansion on Analostan and parts of the interior of the house were saved when fire brigades from Virginia and Georgetown rushed to the scene. The outer buildings did not catch on fire, yet the island remains abandoned to this day.
There was a lot of publicity regarding Monique’s death and Laurel and Holt had to answer a lot of questions regarding the incident. But Holt’s service to the country and his family’s fine reputation prevented any charges from being brought against them. And the note that Monique sent to Laurel proved their innocence.
Songs the Soldiers Sang Page 20
