When Swallows Fall

by Gloria Davidson Marlow

  “Yes,” I said, although I doubted it was true. No one at home would think less of me for wearing anything other than black and here, it was obvious, no one cared one way or the other. My sister had only been buried yesterday, however, and I would not quit wearing it today.

  “Lorraine was right, you know, when she said Desdemona wouldn’t have worn black for you.”

  “That makes no difference. It’s the right thing to do.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” She cocked her head. “Don’t you find it odd that the two of you are so different?”

  Dory entered the room with a black riding habit and a jaunty black hat with a small veil and a gray plume on the side.

  “I’ll meet you at the stable,” Eleanor said. “I’ll have the horses readied while you dress.”

  The sun had been shining earlier in the day, but when I came outside it had moved behind the clouds, and the air felt cool with coming rain.

  “It may not be a very long ride,” Eleanor said as the groom led the horses to us, “but we’ll be home before the rain, I’m sure.”

  She took the reins of a pretty chestnut mare, and the groom handed me those of the dappled gray that trailed behind her.

  “Desdemona called her Dove,” Eleanor told me, “And this is my Angel.”

  As the groom helped me mount, I swallowed my tears. My father had always compared Desi and me to the birds that frequented the countryside around our home. He told us Desi was a spirited, high-flying barn swallow, while I was a calm, down-to-earth mourning dove. Had she remembered me when she’d christened the pretty gray horse?

  We rode away from the house, heading down the drive in companionable silence. As we passed the gatehouse, Eleanor pointed toward a small well in front of it.

  “When Cade and I were young, we were certain sea nymphs had a tunnel between the sea and that old well. I have no idea where the idea came from, probably our nurse, Miss Loy, who always had a superstitious tale to tell.”

  “Did she believe Almenara was haunted?”

  “Of course. Ever since I can remember, the maids have recounted ghostly encounters in the hallways and empty rooms. It’s the way it is in old houses. Desdemona wasn’t the first wife to die under mysterious circumstances at Almenara.”

  In any house older than a few years, someone was bound to have died, so I wasn’t really surprised by her declaration. I was shocked by her next words, however.

  “Calvin’s first wife leapt over the side of the lighthouse, you know.” She glanced toward me, as if gauging my reaction. “He found her body on the rocks below.”

  “How sad,” I murmured, remembering the woman I’d imagined balancing on the railing during Desi’s funeral.

  “Calvin found her. I’ll never forget that day. He and Cade had been in a heated row, arguing as always, about Cade’s control of the purse strings and Amelia’s spending. She was a beautiful girl, spoiled by her parents and used to the very best of everything. She married Calvin against her parents’ wishes, and he was determined to prove to them he could care for her as well as they did.”

  I remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

  “Our grandfather left Calvin and me well enough off that we could both be independent, but Almenara is our home. Luckily, he had the foresight to arrange things so that we were able to stay here if we so desired. After all, had our father not died, Calvin would have inherited Almenara instead of Cade.”

  This bit of information pricked my ears. Why had Mrs. Hartley not mentioned it when she told me of how they all came to live here? Was it common knowledge?

  “Is that why they dislike each other so?” I asked.

  “That is part of it, yes. When we came here with our mother, our father had been dead for several years. Our home was destroyed by Union troops soon after his death, and we lived by selling the few possessions my mother was able to salvage. She never wanted to come here, because of the way they treated her when she married our father. When it finally came down to starvation or groveling at the feet of our grandfather, she brought us here. We had lived without basic necessities, much less the luxuries of Almenara, for years. To arrive here and find Cade firmly ensconced as the heir apparent drove a wedge between him and Calvin that no amount of time can overcome.” She looked at me. “You knew Cade when he was younger. Surely you can see the changes in him. He was always a kind man, warm and loving and ready to take care of anyone who needed his protection. Calvin was a good boy when we were children, but as the years have passed I think he has realized how much he lost to Cade, and he’s grown cruel and taunting. Cade has been determined to bury his guilt at having inherited Almenara and prove himself as a worthy master, while Calvin has seemed determined to be a thorn in his side.”

  “So they have always bickered as they do now?”

  “Yes, but at times it has gone well past bickering to outright pugilism.”

  I had witnessed that on my first day at Almenara, when Calvin hinted at a relationship with Desi. Now, I wondered if what he said was true.

  “Was your brother having an affair with my sister?”

  Eleanor let out a tinkling laugh, and shook her head. “I don’t think so, but Calvin did everything in his power to make Cade believe they were.”

  “What a horrible thing to do!” I exclaimed.

  Eleanor shrugged. “It is how the two of them have always been.”

  We had ridden to the edge of the meadow, where the land became a promontory that overlooked the shore and ocean below.

  To our left, I could see the lighthouse, and I shivered as a cloud passed over it. Was it merely a coincidence that both Cade and Calvin had lost their wives there?

  A large black horse stood just outside the door, and as we watched, a cloaked figure came out of the lighthouse and mounted the horse. I would have known him anywhere, even without the way my breath caught in my throat as he thundered down the shore, past the spot where we stood and off into the distance, as if the demons of hell were on his heels.

  “If anything is haunted at Almenara, it’s the people,” Eleanor said, as a crash of thunder shook the earth beneath our feet. “And Cade is the most haunted of all.”

  Chapter Ten

  Our ride home was silent, as we gave the horses their heads and let them gallop back to the safety of the stables. We beat the rain by mere seconds, and dashed across the courtyard and into the house.

  “Good Lord!”

  I looked toward the spot where Richard Scarborough stood, bag in hand, beside the stairs. His face was white with shock and, for a moment, I feared he might keel right over.

  “Richard, are you ill?” I hurried toward him, but with a slight shake of his head, he seemed to get hold of himself.

  “I’m fine. It was just a momentary shock to see you come through the door, looking just like Desdemona.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” I said with an apologetic smile. “I didn’t even think about that.”

  I pulled my hat from my head, and a few plump curls fell loose around my shoulders. He swallowed hard, his color returning with a vengeance as his gaze wandered over my face and form. For the first time in many years, I felt the power an attractive woman wields over a virile man.

  I could not ignore the desire that lit his face, but I had no idea what to do with it. So I did what I had always done in situations where I was uncertain of my next move. I excused myself and rushed up the stairs to my room.

  Once I had washed up and changed, I emerged, hopeful that Richard was gone and Cade had returned.

  As I wandered through the downstairs rooms, I passed the ballroom where Desi’s coffin had been. The black velvet had been removed from the mirrors, and Mrs. Hartley was instructing two young maids on washing their gleaming surfaces. Both of the girls looked scared out of their wits, and I wondered if they were more frightened of Mrs. Hartley’s disapproval or of the ghosts rumored to haunt this room.

  “Miss Garrett.” Mrs. Hartley greeted me with a smile and foll
owed me into the hallway. “How can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Cade. Do you happen to know where I can find him?”

  “He’s not here, miss. He left shortly after breakfast, saying he’d be home after dark.”

  “Eleanor and I saw him on the shore when we were riding. Would he still be out in this weather?”

  “He’s always been one to love this sort of weather. He used to lecture Mrs. Scott about going up to the lighthouse in the rain, but he’d be galloping about on that big black horse of his in the very same storm.”

  My suddenly fertile imagination conjured up a picture of Cade, wet shirt plastered to his chest, as his stallion’s gait ate up the sand along the coastline. When had I given up my usually studious and peaceful mind to such imaginings? And when had I ever felt the way I felt right now, as the thought of him taking me up beside him on the beast’s back made me weak in the knees?

  “I believe he was going to see his solicitor. He was dressed for business when he left. He asked that the carriage be ready when he returned from his ride.”

  “Perhaps he’s decided to hire someone to handle his defense,” I said hopefully.

  Mrs. Hartley’s hand went to her chest, and tears filled her eyes. “Poor boy, to think he only has a few more days on—”

  I stopped her before she could speak the words that would remind me of the dire possibility of Cade’s death.

  “Perhaps the matter is not so decided as everyone thinks,” I offered.

  “Oh, miss, I would like to believe that. But we all heard him threaten to kill her.”

  “Yes, someone mentioned that to me. They were in the midst of an argument, I believe.”

  “They were in a terrible row, and I think he only spoke it in anger. But only a few days later, she was dead.”

  “What were they arguing about?”

  “That I don’t know, Miss Garrett.” She seemed to gather herself, and offered me a small smile. “Besides, I’ve already said too much. It’s something you’d best discuss with Mr. Cade.”

  I knew she was right, and I said so, but as I turned to go, she grasped my arm.

  “Will you be taking Tabitha with you when you leave, miss?”

  “I sincerely hope Tabitha will remain here with her father.”

  “Of course, but I hate to think of what would happen to her here if Mr. Cade were gone. She’ll be the only one in the way of them then.”

  “Do you believe someone in the household would harm her?” I exclaimed. “Who?”

  “They’ve never done a thing to make me think it, Miss Garrett. Never uttered an unkind word about the poor little thing, but should Mr. Cade die, she will inherit it all. And their hatred of him will turn on her.”

  “Were you here when Calvin’s first wife died?”

  “I’ve been here for thirty-four years, miss. I was here when Miss Amelia became Mr. Calvin’s wife, and I was here when she died.”

  “Was there ever any question about her death? I mean, were they certain it was a suicide?”

  “I wasn’t privy to the investigation, Miss Garrett.”

  “But doesn’t it seem strange that she and Desdemona would die in the same way?”

  “It is nothing but a sad coincidence, and there was nothing to be gained by accusing anyone of her murder.”

  “Was Calvin the sheriff then?” I hammered at her, although I could tell by the way her eyes darted toward the shadowed recesses of the hallway, her hands working the white lace of her collar, she was fearful of overstepping her bounds.

  “No, miss. Mr. Calvin was only a young man, and there was another sheriff then. From what I remember of that time, he declared it a suicide and said he found no evidence to charge Mr. Cade or anyone else with her death.”

  “Cade?” I cried. “Why on earth would he have charged Cade with her murder?”

  Mrs. Hartley’s fingers stilled, and her serious blue eyes met mine. “Cade was with her at the lighthouse when she died.”

  Nothing could have shocked me more, and I reached out to steady myself against the wall.

  “Ophelia?” Richard’s low, rich voice was actually a welcome sound as he rounded the corner behind us. With a few quick strides, he was beside me, his arm around my waist as he led me to a chair.

  “I’m fine,” I croaked. When he ignored my words and placed fingers on my wrist to feel my pulse, I jerked away from him. “Really, Richard, I’m quite fine.”

  “Very well, then.” He offered me his hand and helped me to my feet. As he placed my hand in the crook of his arm, Mrs. Hartley excused herself and went back into the ballroom.

  Richard guided me to Desdemona’s morning room and closed the door firmly behind us. It was quite improper for us to be behind closed doors alone, but I didn’t care. I needed to talk things over with someone, and Richard seemed willing to listen.

  “Do you care to tell me what shocked you so badly?” he asked, taking a seat in the chair across from mine.

  I told him what I had learned of Calvin’s late wife. When I was done, he sat back in his seat.

  “Oh, yes, poor Amelia. That girl was a spoiled, naïve little princess with just enough beauty to blind a man to her faults. She was Devlin’s sister, you know.”

  “Devlin’s sister?” Why had Eleanor not thought it important to mention that to me? Did anyone here ever tell the entire story, or did they always leave out some pertinent bit of information?

  “It seems some mental instability is in their blood. It leads Devlin to live as a hermit in the woods, alone and demented, and led Amelia to dash herself upon the rocks below the lighthouse.”

  “And Cade was with her when she did it?”

  “To be fair, Cade was devastated by her death.”

  “But that is why he isn’t fighting his accusations this time, isn’t it? That’s why he feels it useless to proclaim his innocence?”

  “It will be hard to find anyone who doesn’t remember Amelia or didn’t think of her death as soon as they learned of Desdemona’s. The similarities in the way they died will make it nearly impossible for him to get a fair trial.”

  “I must find a way to prove his innocence!” I cried, leaping to my feet. I turned toward him. “We can’t possibly let him hang.”

  “Of course, we can’t,” he murmured, but his eyes were on the picture above the mantel.

  “Mrs. Hartley says Devlin painted it,” I said. “It is very realistic, isn’t it?”

  “Was she always so enamored of birds?”

  “Oh, yes, always. I think, if she could have, she would have flown through the air with them. Whenever we wanted to find her, back home, we had only to look in the highest branches of the tallest tree.”

  “If one wanted to find her here, one had only to traipse out to the lighthouse. She was easy prey for whoever wanted her dead.”

  “I know the Scotts disliked her immensely, Richard, but there is a huge difference in disliking someone and killing them.”

  “There’s a fine line between love and hate.”

  “So you believe Cade killed her?” My voice sounded much angrier than I meant for it to, and his eyebrows rose a little at my tone.

  “No, not at all. Cade wasn’t by any means the only man in love with your sister.”

  “So I’ve heard. Were you one of them?”

  “Only a little.” He chuckled. “And only for a moment. Truthfully, Ophelia, there wasn’t much I even liked about her once I got to know her.”

  “She must have hated that,” I observed.

  He shrugged. “I don’t think it bothered her in the least. I’ve told you, she disliked me quite vehemently.”

  The reminder that Desi had ignored his advice concerning Tabitha brought me to my next question.

  “Do you believe any of the Scotts would harm Tabitha if Cade weren’t here?”

  His answer was quick and put me more at ease. “Why would they? If they are her guardians, then Calvin would have full control over everything. It isn’t li
kely Tabby will ever marry or have children of her own. Most children like her succumb to their affliction long before marriageable age. If you are her guardian, Cade may leave you a stipend to care for her, but you would never control Almenara or the family’s assets. With Cade out of the picture, they will simply put her away somewhere and go on as if she doesn’t even exist.”

  “That is true, I suppose.”

  He stood from his seat and went to the window.

  “It seems the rain has nearly stopped. I should leave before it picks up again.”

  I rose to show him to the door, and he took my hand in his. His touch was gentle but firm as he lifted it to his lips.

  “You are quite different from your sister, Ophelia, and I find the more I know you, the more I like you. I would like your permission to call on you during your stay at Almenara.”

  “Richard,” I began, but he cut me off with a tender smile.

  “Don’t answer me now. We will see each other when I visit Tabitha. You will come to know me, and you can make your decision when you feel comfortable. I won’t pressure you by asking again. I will simply await your decision.”

  I returned his smile. “I am flattered by your interest, Richard, and I look forward to your future visits.”

  We walked to the door, and I watched him hurry to his carriage. I returned his wave with a lift of my hand and turned away from the door.

  Lorraine stood at the bottom of the staircase, watching me with an interested gleam in her eyes. Her mouth curved into a patronizing smile.

  “Do I detect some interest between you and our good doctor?”

  “He is a kind man, and I consider him a friend.”

  She smiled again and came toward me.

  “Let me show you around the house, Ophelia. We share our niece, after all, and it would be good for us to get to know one another. We will be all she has once Cade is gone.”

  Although Mrs. Hartley had given me a brief overview of which rooms belonged to whom on the day of my arrival, I was happy to get a more in-depth tour and fell into step beside Lorraine.