Madison's Gift

by Marie Higgins

  “But why do I keep having those visions here in this house, whenever I touch something that your father made?”

  “I don’t know, but...” He growled and stopped, facing her. “But you’re wrong. Rosie is my sister.”

  “Cameron, she really doesn’t resemble you or Alice at all. She has her own looks.”

  “She has the same color of hair as mine.” He pointed to his head.

  “Her hair is darker.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” he snapped. “And there’s the fact that we don’t know how old that missing girl would be right now. Just because the girl was six when she disappeared, and I didn’t see Rosie until she was six...” He raked his fingers through his hair.

  Finally, she felt as though her strength had returned, so she stood and moved toward him. “Cameron, I don’t mean to upset you. I’m just trying to figure out why I keep getting these very confusing visions. Please understand—”

  “Madison, you are accusing my father of kidnapping. I know he was insane, but he wouldn’t kidnap someone’s child.”

  Panic wrinkled his face and had even made his face grow pale. His eyes were wide, yet confused. She understood that emotion well.

  “Both you and Alice mentioned how he was obsessed with the case,” she continued in a softer tone, “and that he lost his mind after that.”

  “Exactly! Why would he act that way if Rosie was the missing child?”

  She lifted her hands in surrender. “Maybe he couldn’t handle what he’d done—”

  “Enough! I won’t have any more talk of my father in this manner.” He stormed to the glass of wine she hadn’t drank, brought it to his mouth, and gulped it down.

  She stayed silent, giving him time to think. She, too, needed to sort through her mind, and yet, the more she spoke her thoughts aloud, more of the puzzle pieces fit together. She couldn’t believe how shocking this was, and yet what else was she to think?

  “Madison, I have to return to the station. Please forgive me for not staying.”

  Without waiting for her answer, he grabbed his hat and dashed out of the room.

  NINETEEN

  Cameron sat at his desk, drumming his fingers as he stared at the paperwork he was supposed to fill out and give to Captain Orwood in regards to the arrest of Gaynor Brailsford. He couldn’t think of that, not when his mind continued to whirl around Madison’s story...that preposterous story about Rosie.

  He couldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t without physical proof! Rosie was not Lord Hanover’s daughter.

  Or was she?

  Angrily, he pushed away from his desk and marched down the hall toward the records room. He’d put an end to this ridiculous idea Madison had of Rosie being the missing girl. There was no reason his parents would lie to him. He remembered his pregnant mother before she traveled to Scotland. He recalled the letters she sent him and Alice during those months after she’d had Rosie. Although he never actually saw his sister until their father brought her home when she was six, Cameron had no reason to doubt, either.

  He searched the room full of boxes, trying to remember the exact year his father’s life changed. Was it when Rosie was six? Or was it a few years afterward?

  Impatient, Cameron carried four boxes back to his desk and dug through all the paperwork Scotland Yard had done during those years.

  It upset him to think Madison could get inside his head the way she did and make him doubt his own family. And yet, so far she’d been right about Rosie and about Gaynor and Heath. She’d been right about Judge Gruber’s grandson, too. What were the odds she was correct about this?

  No! It was impossible! He wouldn’t accept it—which was why he needed to find proof that she was wrong. That’s the only way he could convince his breaking heart that his family—namely his father—was not a kidnapper.

  He stumbled across a bundle of papers wrapped in string that had his father’s handwriting all over it. Cameron pulled it out of the box and brought it into better lighting. He scanned the words, looking for the name Lord Hanover. Suddenly, the man’s name popped out of the page.

  Holding his breath, Cameron read on, anxious to find the girl’s name. His eyes came to a jerking halt as he read Madeline Roseland Dixon.

  His head throbbed with uncertainty, and he closed his eyes. Memories swam in his head of those few times right after Rosie had come to live with them when his father mistakenly called her Madeline...and then quickly corrected and said, Rosie. At the time, Cameron had thought his father was so involved in the case of the missing child that he couldn’t remember his own daughter’s name.

  Cameron rubbed his forehead. He still didn’t think his father was a kidnapper. How could he? His father had done his best in trying to raise three children without their mother. He tried to make a happy home...until he lost his mind.

  Had his father truly kidnapped the girl and then gone crazy with guilt? But why when he had a daughter who was the same age...

  Rosie was a sickly child...

  We can’t bring her home for fear she’ll become more ill...

  She’s just too weak to travel...

  Cameron swallowed, moistening his suddenly dry throat. Had his sister died along with their mother? Was that the reason their father went off the deep end and kidnapped a girl who was the same age?

  Tears stung his eyes and he shook his head. What was he thinking? No! His father wouldn’t have done that.

  He did another search, this time looking for the year. Finally he saw it. 1800.

  Releasing a relieved sigh, he leaned his elbows on the desk. Rosie was born in 1806. There’s no way Rosie could be the missing child if that was the year Rosie came into the world. The Hanover’s daughter would be in her twenty-third year by now—not sixteen.

  Madison was wrong. However, why did she have these visions while inside his house? Had his father been part of the kidnapping?

  Cameron released a frustrated groan and stuffed the rest of the papers back inside the box, leaving out his father’s notes, wrapping them together and tying them with string. He couldn’t think anymore tonight. His doubts were too strong.

  Quickly, he carried the boxes back into the records room and then left.

  With his heart dragging along his feet, he took his father’s notes and placed them in his saddlebag. Madison probably wouldn’t be there. The sun had gone to bed a few hours ago. Clouds must have taken over the night sky because there were no stars to light his way home. Even the moon was mostly covered. The wind had picked up speed since earlier this afternoon.

  He hoped Madison had gone home. He wasn’t in the mood to talk, only because he didn’t know how to tell her that she was wrong. Would she hate him when he showed her the evidence? More than likely.

  Although they’ve really only known each other a week, he did know what kind of woman Madison was. He knew how strongly her conviction was to her visions. Indeed, she would be devastated to learn she was wrong about this.

  As he reached the estate, there were only a few lamps on inside the house; Alice’s and Rosie’s, and one downstairs. His gut twisted. Was their visitor in the sitting room waiting for him? He hoped not.

  After he put his horse away, he quietly walked into the house. Everything was quiet. He peeked inside the room that held the lamp. Thankfully, nobody was there. He took the lamp and walked up the stairs toward his room. Passing Alice’s room, he listened closely just in case Madison was in there visiting. Once again, silence greeted him.

  Cameron made it to his room and closed the door behind him. His head pounded with each step. Tears stung his eyes, but he refused to shed them. Knowing what he needed to tell Madison left an empty hole in his heart. He could only pray that she would understand.

  He must go with Madison tomorrow to visit Gretchen’s Millinery Shop. He needed to know what happened, just as much as Madison did.

  Tomorrow couldn’t get here soon enough.

  MADISON LEFT HER ROOM at the Inn where she’d checked into last
evening. She’d waited a little while for Cameron to return, and when the sun dipped in the horizon, she knew she should find her a place to sleep before Alice invited her to stay there. Madison didn’t want to impose, and returning back to the boarding house would take a few hours.

  Another reason she didn’t want to stay the night at the Westland estate was because she feared she’d be tempted to confide in Alice. Cameron’s sister wouldn’t understand how Madison had given her heart to Cameron after only knowing him a week, only to stick her foot in her mouth and have him hate her.

  Once again, she’d allowed her visions to chase a man out of her life. Would she ever learn?

  She must not think about Cameron. Instead, she had a case to solve. Her questions to Cameron last night had only been thoughts jumping out of her head. She didn’t know if it was true. Hopefully, she’d discover that today.

  The closer she walked toward the middle of town, the more her palms moistened. Would she discover anything today? And at what cost?

  Her chest ached with sorrow when she thought about Cameron and what pain and confusion he must be experiencing right now. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said anything to him last night about her vision and what thoughts had lingered inside her head. But that wasn’t her nature. If she had kept her mouth closed all these years, she would definitely be locked away in a mental institution. For years, she had to keep reminding herself that she was not insane.

  Finally, she arrived at the shop. Nervously, she wrung her hands against her waist as she hastily stepped toward the building. When she reached the door, she released the gush of air before opening the door and walking inside.

  Only one other patron was shopping today. An older woman, perhaps in her sixtieth year, stood next to the middle-aged lady as she pointed at the items on a shelf holding bonnet accessories. A bell over the door chimed loudly as the door closed, which made the women turn and look at Madison. The woman with the silver black hair whispered something to the patron before she turned and headed toward Madison.

  “Good morning. How are you this fine day?” the older woman greeted with a smile.

  “I’m very well, thank you.”

  “Is there something I can help you with?” Her gaze lifted to the top of Madison’s head and her smile wavered. “Do you need a bonnet?”

  Most older ladies frowned upon Madison’s choice of not wearing a bonnet, and it appeared this particular woman was part of that disapproving group.

  “Actually no,” Madison replied nicely. “I’m looking for Gretchen.”

  She fluttered a thin, wrinkled hand to her bosom, resting it against the shiny silver and green fabric of the gown she wore. “I’m Gretchen.”

  “I’m Miss Haywood. I hope you don’t mind if I take a few minutes out of your time. I need to talk to you about something that happened in this shop a long time ago.” Madison glanced out the window to the shop across the street. “Your sister told me that you would be able to help me.”

  She tilted her head slightly to the side. “Are you the one who asked Martha about Lord Hanover’s daughter who was kidnapped?”

  “Is Martha your sister who owns the clothing shop?”

  “Yes.”

  Madison sighed with relief. “Then yes, I had asked about that. If you don’t mind, I just need to ask a few questions about that day.”

  She shrugged her thin shoulders. “I don’t have much to tell since I’ve told the officers at Scotland Yard everything I know all those years ago.”

  “I understand,” Madison quickly added, “but I’m doing this as a favor to Lord Hanover, and so the police will not be involved.” She took a quick breath. “If you could tell me what happened that day, I would appreciate any help you could give me.”

  Gretchen glanced over at the other patron who continued to browse. “Well, I suppose I can relate the story again. I’m getting older and I forgot a lot of things, but...this particular event I remember as though it was yesterday.” She met Madison’s gaze. “Lady Hanover was visiting a relative who lived here in Illford.” She tapped her gnarled finger against her chin. “Although I don’t recall the relative’s name at the moment.”

  “That’s all right,” Madison reassured. “Just tell me what you know.”

  “Well, I remember it was such a surprise to have Lady Hanover visit my shop. Her husband is an Earl, you know.”

  “No, I wasn’t aware of that.”

  “And they are quite wealthy.” Gretchen wagged her eyebrows.

  “I didn’t know that, either.” And really, Madison didn’t care about their money situation. Unless it had something to do with the kidnapping, that’s all she wanted to know.

  “As it were,” Gretchen continued, “she brought her lovely daughter with her. The little girl had the prettiest brown hair with a touch of gold in it. Lady Hanover was looking for a bonnet for both her and her daughter. I remember the little girl kept rubbing her eyes and yawning. She whined about being tired and wanting to leave.” Gretchen displayed a stern expression. “Of course, I didn’t want Lady Hanover leaving so quickly, so I suggested that the little girl could use the small room in the back of my shop. There was a cot there where she could lie down.”

  “Could you show me where it is?”

  Gretchen glanced again at the other patron and fidgeted. “Um... Well, I do have a customer.”

  “If you don’t mind, I could go back there myself,” Madison offered.

  “I suppose it’s all right.”

  “Oh, thank you. I’m so very appreciative of your assistance. But before I go, can you tell me if that’s all that happened to the girl?”

  Gretchen nodded. “Her mother and I took the girl back to the room. Her mother laid her down on the cot, and the girl immediately fell asleep. Lady Hanover and I returned out here, and a half hour later when she was ready to leave, the girl was gone.”

  “Is there a back door to this room?”

  Gretchen frowned. “Yes, but it was locked when we laid the girl down.”

  “Was it locked after you discovered she was gone?”

  “Yes. That’s why it seemed so strange. If the girl wandered out of the store, we would have seen her. She wouldn’t have been able to open the door and leave, either.”

  Madison stared at the older woman as her mind scrambled for questions. What else did she need to know before she went back there by herself and started touching things, hoping for a vision? “Oh, I have one more question, if you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Not at all.” Gretchen smiled.

  “I know this might sound odd, but...is the cot in the room the same one the girl laid on?”

  The old woman’s forehead creased. “Um, no. I think I replaced it not too long after the girl went missing.” Her eyes watered. “For the longest time, I blamed myself, since this was my shop.”

  “I understand. I shall do my best to find a clue. I can’t let this case go as easily as the officers did back then.”

  The older woman turned and pointed to the back of the room. “See that door there? Go through it and turn right. You’ll see a small hall. The room is the one on the right.”

  “I shall. Thank you.”

  “Good luck.” Gretchen gave Madison a small wave before she moved back to her other customer.

  Madison was optimistic. True, it had been many years, but there had to be something that would help her. Why else would she have this urgent feeling to help Lord Hanover?

  Following Gretchen’s directions, Madison was able to locate the room quickly. Her hand shook with anticipation as she opened the door and walked inside. Her heart beat so fast she feared it would jump right out. Not many cases she’d been helping with made her feel as alive as this one.

  She scanned the room and frowned. It wasn’t much bigger than the attic room where they’d found Rosie. A small bed and an even smaller table were the only pieces of furniture. No pictures hung on the wall. One window stood right next to the door with the thinnest curtain...


  Madison held her breath. If the cot was in the same place as the bed was back then, anyone would have been able to see the child asleep if they walked by from outside. And the window was large enough for someone to crawl through it. Narrowing her gaze, she walked closer to the window. Perhaps only a slender person would be able to fit, but it was at least possible.

  However, if that slender person tried to take a six-year-old girl, would they be able to squeeze through easily enough? Probably not.

  Folding her arms, she tapped a finger against her arm. So what other possibilities could there be? Unless...

  She swung around and faced the door she’d just entered. If the kidnapper noticed the girl lying on the bed, would he have tried to get the girl and take her out a different way? Was there another door? She hurried out of the room and glanced at the other door in the hall. Cautiously, she looked inside that room. All it held were boxes of hats, materials, and accessories. There was no door going outside of the building.

  Madison slowly walked back into the first room. What were the odds someone had the key besides Gretchen? Did she have family members who knew of the location?

  She took her time moving around the room, brushing her hand over the wall, the floor, the table, and the bed. Nothing. Not even a spark of a vision.

  She stepped to the window and ran her hand over the glass, and then down to the pane. Nothing there, either. Would the door hold any clues? But after sweeping her hand over it, and seeing nothing, she released a frustrated sigh.

  At a loss, she left the room and walked back up to the front of the building. Two more customers had entered the shop. Gretchen stood by the cash box, assisting the woman who’d been here earlier.

  Gretchen’s gaze lifted and met Madison’s. The older woman’s eyebrows rose in silent question. Madison shook her head. Immediately, a frown claimed Gretchen’s face. Once she was finished with the customer, she walked toward Madison.