by Amy Harmon
“Eliza?” he whispered. He heard a sharp intake of breath, and he removed his mask.
The voice that answered was cold. “What do you want?”
“It’s me, Jon,” he said.
“Please leave me alone. You’ve done enough damage.”
Jon crossed to her, trying to read her expression concealed by the shadows. “I sent you an apology.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Her voice was steely, cold.
Jon didn’t let that stop him, although he probably should have. Ignoring himself, he sat beside her. “What is it?”
“You know very well.” Eliza gathered her heavy skirts around her and scooted to the far end of the bench.
“You’ll fall off,” Jon said.
The humor was lost on Eliza.
“Does this have something to do with Mr. Beesley?” he asked.
With that, fresh tears cascaded down Eliza cheeks. She turned her face away from Jon. “Don’t men like you have anything better to do with your time than destroy a man and his family?”
Jon sighed and wished he could reach out and console her. “Your father will walk away from the lawsuit with only minor setbacks, nothing compared to what Thomas will face. Thomas is no decent man—”
Eliza turned and faced him. “That didn’t stop you from becoming his lawyer and trying to ruin my father.” Without giving him a chance to answer, she stood and began to walk away.
He jumped to block her and placed both hands on her shoulders. “I don’t know what you’ve been told, but I’m not Thomas’s lawyer.” He lowered his voice. “Please believe me.”
Eliza blinked back tears and met his eyes with defiance. “Why should I?”
Slowly, he lowered his hands. A thousand words floated through his mind, all disjointed and unattainable. If he could only tell her how he really felt. The faint glimmer of hope in her eyes pierced his heart. He reached for her hand, but she drew back. “I can’t bear to think that I’m the cause of your misery,” he finally managed.
Her eyes grew cold and hard again. “Don’t flatter yourself.” She pushed past him.
Jon stared after her, aching to follow and take her in his arms. The sorrow in her eyes would remain with him forever.
* * *
Eliza hurried down the hallway, not knowing where she was going. A staircase rose in front of her, but she didn’t want to climb it. She sat on the lower stair and tried to calm her rapid breathing. The pressure of Jon’s hands on her shoulders had sent daggers of heat through her arms. She rubbed them furiously, trying to erase his touch. She couldn’t deny the conversation she’d overheard between her father and Thomas. Was Jon brash enough to lie straight to her face?
“Tell him.”
A cold chill spread through Eliza’s body. It was Helena’s voice again. It hadn’t stayed behind in Maybrook after all. Frustration crashed through Eliza. Looking around in the dim light she said, “Tell him what? Tell him that his mother is haunting me?”
No one—or nothing—answered. Only the distant sound of the orchestra could be heard.
“Why have you followed me here?” Her voice grew hysterical. “Why can’t you leave me alone?” She buried her face in her hands, trembling. How could Helena still want something from her? Maybe the voice was in her head—maybe it had always been in her head, and she was going mad.
Eliza rose and put on her mask. She retraced her steps down the now-empty corridor to the front entrance of the ballroom. The wine table had never been so inviting. She crossed over to it and helped herself to a glass, then another. A few feet away, she spotted Thomas surrounded by his friends, including the supposed Frenchman.
She felt nauseated. She put down the wineglass and went to find Gina. Pushing through the throng of elaborately dressed people, she finally spotted her friend.
“Where have you been?” Gina asked as soon as she saw her.
“I don’t feel well,” Eliza said.
Gina studied her. “Do you need to sit down for a while?”
“I want to leave.”
“I’ll go with you then,” Gina offered.
“No, enjoy the evening. It’s not even ten yet. I’ll be fine.” Eliza turned and hurried to the front entrance before Gina could protest further.
Outside several public carriages were waiting. She climbed into the first one and gave the driver directions to take her home.
* * *
Eliza ran up the stairs to her room and was half undressed when her mother entered.
“You’re home early.”
Eliza nodded as she began to pull the pins out of her hair. Her mother crossed the room. “Here, let me help you.”
Eliza lowered her arms and allowed her mother to undo the apparatus on her head.
“Are you feeling all right?” her mother asked.
“I think it was too early to go out,” Eliza said. “I’ll feel better in the morning.”
Her mother kissed the top of her head. “Sleep well then. I’ll hear more about it tomorrow.”
When her mother was gone, Eliza’s brave exterior began to crumble. She climbed between the cool sheets and hugged her pillow to her chest. She eventually fell asleep on her tear-stained pillow.
Helena packed her bags as little Gus watched her. “I’m going on a trip, sweetie, and will be back soon. Tell thy papa not to worry.”The little boy nodded with trusting eyes. She patted his head as she passed. “Be a good boy.”
She left him and climbed on her horse, with Jonny strapped in front of her in the saddle, sleeping. She could barely keep the horse on the road and was tempted to take the shortcut. But she didn’t want any neighbors to notice her. She had to appear as if she were simply going to market, and she hoped the bundle tied to the back of the saddle wasn’t too suspicious. Then the accident happened. The horse tripped on a root and threw her and Jonny from the saddle. Jonny woke with a start and began to wail. She untied him from the horse and tried to help the horse to its feet, but it was lame.
Helena hobbled along the road as quickly as she could, carrying her bag and child. She couldn’t afford to be late to the train station. She hoped the townspeople wouldn’t be alerted by her dirty appearance.
Her heart sank when she heard a rider approach behind her. One fearful look over her shoulder, and she knew it was Gus. She turned sharply and ran into the trees, hoping to lose him. But he was gaining, and she finally put Jonny down, kissed him through her tears, and ran in the opposite direction. Someone would find Jonny. Gus could have his way with her, but she wouldn’t let her child witness it.
It wasn’t long before her strength ran out and Gus was on top of her. His eyes were burning, his chest heaving. It was only when she saw the glittering blade in his hands that she realized she would never see daylight again. She’d never see her son again. She heard someone shouting Gus’s name, but it was too late. As the blade began its trail across her neck, her last words were, “God forgive me.”
Eliza woke from her dream with a start, her pulse racing.
“Tell him how I died.”
The voice seemed to penetrate her skin, sending goose pimples up her back. She sat up and gripped the pillow tightly.
“Go away!” she said into the darkness, and then she succumbed to the shaking sobs.
Sometime later, with her eyes still squeezed shut, the voice whispered again, “Tell him how I died.”
This time, Eliza felt a calm pass over her. The voice had been clear. Helena wanted her to tell Jon about the horrible dream. The clock downstairs chimed once.
Perhaps the only way to stop Helena’s haunting her dreams was to tell Jon about them. Her breathing came rapidly as she thought about seeing Jon again. Panic rose in her throat. How could she tell him that she dreamed about his mother’s death? That his mother spoke to her? He’d think she was insane.
She’d tell him right before leaving New York—it was the only way to escape the voice and to forget Jon. And going to Maybrook wasn’t an option, even though Gus was
in jail. She didn’t want to be reminded of all that had happened there. Surely the voice would grow more demanding and the nightmares would get worse. The more she thought about it the more she realized that Europe was the answer. She had to convince her parents to let her go.
The following day an opportunity arose that Eliza couldn’t pass up. After telling her mother the details about the ball, omitting the part about dancing with Thomas and being cornered by Jon, her mother mentioned that the Graydon family was traveling to France soon.
Eliza saw her chance. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that they’ve invited me to go along.”
Mrs. Robinson’s painted lips parted. “Have they, now? When did this happen?”
“A few days ago.” Eliza pressed forward. “I’d like to see another country, and the Graydons would like company for Gina.”
Mrs. Robinson stared at her. “Eliza. You can’t be serious. You barely escaped for your life a matter of weeks ago.”
“I’m in the way here—you and father are so busy right now with all the changes in the business.”
“How do you know about any changes?” her mother asked.
Eliza looked at the floor, avoiding her mother’s gaze.
“I don’t think you’re strong enough to travel. You couldn’t even stay at the ball for more than an hour last night.”
“I’m better each day, Mother. It will do me good to have a break from all the people who know all about what happened to me. And I can’t go back to Maybrook.”
“No, you can’t,” her mother said firmly.
Eliza waited for more, but her mother had fallen silent.
“Should I speak to Father about it?” she asked.
Mrs. Robinson appraised Eliza for a moment. “No, I will.”
Eliza’s heart leapt. That meant her mother was considering it.
* * *
After supper that night, Mr. Robinson called his family into the library. He looked at his wife and daughter, his face etched with concern. “Things aren’t going so well with the company right now.”
Eliza flushed, knowing it was the fault of Thomas Beesley and his sidekick, Jon Porter.
Mrs. Robinson asked, “Will we keep the estate?”
“It’s not as serious as that, dear,” Mr. Robinson said. “But we’re going to have to close a factory instead of opening one, if we are to stay profitable.” He looked at Eliza. “The reason I’m including you in this bad news is that I have decided that I feel that the strain of our family, and what you went through in Maybrook, is hurting your health. It might do you good to travel for a bit—get away from everything. I’ve decided that you shall travel to Europe with Gina’s family.”
Eliza stared at him, not knowing whether or not to be overjoyed or dismayed. She was desperate to leave her nightmares and Helena’s voice behind, but not if it would hurt her family. “But you’ll need all resources for your company. The money from Maeve’s place could help the business.”
Her father smiled tenderly at her. “You are generous, but the cost of traveling with the Graydon family will be minimal. You’ll share their rooms and meals. Besides, I received notice today that Maeve’s property has been sold. I’ll withhold a portion of it from your trust so you can enjoy yourself in Europe.”
“I don’t want to go if you and mother are struggling,” Eliza said. “Take the money for your company. I don’t need it.”
Mr. Robinson shook his head. “The business will soon improve, and your mother and I will be fine. The balmy weather in southern France will improve your health.”
With her parents’ minds made up, Eliza began to prepare for the trip, wishing her father wasn’t going through such a difficult time, but relieved that she’d finally be able to get away from Helena’s voice. Surely a ghost couldn’t travel across the ocean.
Chapter Twenty-three
It was two days before she was scheduled to leave for France when Eliza woke in the middle of the night, her forehead perspiring, her mouth dry—the image of Gus Senior strangling Helena fresh in her mind. Gasping, Eliza tried to calm her nerves. She lit the lamp at her bedside and with trembling hands began to write down the dream. When she was finished she knew she had to mail it to Jon. Either that or tell him in person.
She stared at the flickering flame dancing in the lamp a long time before she began a letter to him.
Jon,
It is not my wish to write you this letter. It is your mother’s. I know that must sound strange to you, but ever since I lived with my aunt in Maybrook, I’ve felt someone close by and have heard a voice—your mother’s. Each night I’ve dreamed of her death and have been tormented by the details. Are they true? Is my dream what really happened? I don’t know, but I’ve decided to record the nightmare and give it to you. You’ll find it enclosed with this letter.
I hope the news is not too shocking. I don’t know what to believe myself anymore. But I hope that once I complete this task, your mother will rest in peace. Please do not contact me or try to contact my family. I will be away for some time.
Eliza
Without rereading the letter, Eliza sealed it in an envelope. As soon as the hour was decent to leave the house, she went out and posted the letter herself. She wouldn’t take any chances with her mother seeing to whom the envelope was addressed.
Preparations for the journey were made more complex by her mother’s fussiness. “You’ll need at least seven hats. The sun can be quite brutal in that part of the world,” Mrs. Robinson said, examining their hatboxes.
“I’m not going to be gone for more than a couple of months. I think I can get away with four.”
“Four day hats—and three evening ones.”
Eliza sighed, watching as her mother arranged them on the bed. She placed each hat next to a respective outfit. When she reached the final one, she held up the plain gray dress. “What’s this shabby thing?”
“It was Aunt Maeve’s. I wore it while helping her in the garden.”
Her mother stared at her. “You are not taking this.”
“I thought if I left it behind, you’d throw it out.”
“You’re probably right.” Her mother wrinkled her nose. “But you can’t be serious about taking something so ghastly.”
Eliza folded her arms. “I won’t if you promise not to get rid of it.”
Mrs. Robinson carried it to the closet and hung it up. “It will stay there until you return.”
Eliza looked back at the bed, then rolled her eyes when she saw what her mother had added. “Mother, I won’t need three parasols. It’s not as if we are going to be in one neighborhood and run into the same people each day.”
“You can never been too prepared.” Her mother’s mouth was firm. “I’ll call Bess to organize your things into the trunks.”
Before Bess arrived, Eliza removed two parasols, two hats and three dresses from the bed. She stuffed them in the back of her closet, hoping her mother wouldn’t notice.
Bess entered and embraced her. “I’ll miss you.”
“It’s only for a short while.”Eliza squeezed back. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“You’ll be grown up, I say, travelin’ abroad an’ all.”
“I’ll miss you too.”
Bess wiped her eyes, and then both women turned to the bed and began to pack silently.
* * *
The following morning, Eliza woke early. Energy hummed through her body, and she realized she was looking forward to the trip more than she’d thought. Surely Helena couldn’t follow her to Europe. Eliza would leave the woman’s voice and nightmares behind.
Descending the stairs, Eliza was surprised to see both of her parents already at the breakfast table. Her mother’s eyes were moist, and Eliza thought back to the day when they had departed in anger at the Maybrook train station.
Now, there was only tenderness in her mother’s eyes. “Eat a good breakfast, darling.”
“I don’t feel hungry,” Eliza said. “But I’ll
try to eat something.”
Mr. Robinson watched as Eliza picked at her food. “Remember to only eat things that are cooked over there.”
“What about escargot?” she asked, only to see what her mother would say.
Her mother blanched, and Eliza hid a smile.
“Only if the restaurant is reputable,” her father said.
“And only stay at hotels with indoor plumbing,” her mother cautioned.
A tap sounded from the front door.
“The carriage must be ready,” her father said.
Her mother rose. “Always show good manners, and don’t speak to strangers.”
“Everyone will be a stranger, Mother.” Eliza pushed away the breakfast plate and stood.
“If Gina’s family is speaking to someone then it will be all right to speak too. Just don’t leave their side.”
Eliza nodded. She embraced her mother, then her father. They walked her out to the carriage. After hugging her parents, she climbed in, hardly believing she was actually leaving.
The carriage traveled to Gina’s home, where Eliza waited until they were loaded and ready to go. Gina climbed in beside her. Her face glowed with excitement, and she squeezed Eliza’s hands. “I’m so glad you’re coming with us. It would have been so dull—”
“I know, I know. You’d die of boredom in dreary France.”
Gina grinned as the carriage set off for the harbor. Eliza stared out the window, half listening to Gina’s chatter, and soaked in the details of the passing scenery as she wondered what the streets of Europe would look like. They moved through the quiet, still slumbering neighborhoods, past the rows of shops and then through lesser neighborhoods.
Eliza spotted a young boy who was barefoot, sitting on the corner, selling the morning paper. His youthful face was streaked with dirt, but his countenance was happy. She wondered how a boy who had practically nothing could look so content.
Soon they arrived at the harbor. Eliza climbed out of the carriage and stared at the massive ship that would take them across the Atlantic. Sailors moved furiously about the harbor, loading crates and other cargo.
