Eugene followed a step behind. “You spoke of your flying machine?”
“The world is changing, Eugene, right under their noses—and they don’t see it.”
Eugene opened the door for Harrison. “You will show them the future, sir.”
He set his jaw. “I shall indeed.”
“I have a small savings set aside, Mr. Bennett. I’d like to invest in your company. With your permission, of course.”
Eugene’s trust bolstered Harrison’s determination. “I’d be honored to partner with you, Eugene. We are going to change the world.”
TWO
BIRDS SANG IN the shrubs that surrounded the tiny courtyard. Olivia hadn’t thought her mother would be up to eating dinner, but once the matron was revived, she had taken charge again. Mr. Bennett joined them for the meal on the terrace, but there was little conversation after the servants dished up the soup.
Olivia fingered the locket with her sister’s picture in it and wished she would awaken and find this all a bad dream. I don’t believe it. She must have spoken, because Mr. Bennett’s dark eyes were on her face when she put down her soupspoon.
“Eleanor was buried in Mercy Falls, California, yesterday. Those are the facts, Miss Olivia.”
Did he not even care? His dark eyes held no emotion. “With none of her family there to mourn her?” she choked out. “Why were we not informed of her death before now?” She clutched her skirt in her fists.
“I asked Harrison to leave the conveyance of the news to me. In any event, you could not have arrived before her interment. I didn’t wish you to receive this news via a telephone call or a telegram.”
“What were the circumstances of her drowning? Did a boat capsize?”
He shrugged. “It appears she went swimming alone.”
“That’s impossible! Eleanor hated the water. She has never gone swimming in her life.”
“Olivia, stop your interrogation at once,” her mother said. “Nothing will bring your sister back to us.” Her mother took a dainty spoonful of soup. “It is through no fault of ours that the marriage will not take place, Mr. Bennett. I expect you to uphold your part of the arrangement and sign the papers transferring fifty percent of the new mine to us.”
Her mother’s audacity dried Olivia’s welling tears. She waited to see how Mr. Bennett would respond.
Mr. Bennett stirred sugar into his tea, then put his spoon back on the saucer. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, Mrs. Stewart. It’s too bad your husband’s dearest wish is unable to be fulfilled.” He pursed his thin lips. “There will be no property transferred without a wedding.”
Her mother’s smile was ingratiating. She glanced from Mr. Bennett to Olivia. “Well then, I still have a marriageable daughter. Without a blue-blooded wife, Harrison will always be merely nouveau riche and outside the best society.”
The man nodded. “The agreement between your husband and I was that the two families be joined. I do not care how that is achieved. One daughter is as good as the next.”
“Your son can’t possibly change his affections so hastily,” Olivia said.
The man shrugged his slim shoulders. His mustache twitched. “He’d barely met Eleanor before her death. He is amenable to doing what is best for his family. He will still be agreeable.”
Olivia hardly knew what to say, how to stop this insane proposal. She knew her mother was stressed. Six months ago her father had died when the tunnels of a newly acquired African diamond mine collapsed on him. His body was never recovered, nor were his financial investments, which had been exhausted along with the old mines. Time since then had seemed an eternity of watching pennies and struggling to pay the servants while keeping whispers of their change in fortune secret from the society in which they moved. A well-made marriage would give Olivia the power to change their circumstances. But the cost was so high.
Mr. Bennett’s gaze flickered back to her mother. A cold smile lifted his lips. “You are willing to send Olivia to marry Harrison?”
“It is what my husband wished. I assume you will draw up the papers to give me a share of the mine?” She dabbed her lips again. “I still don’t quite understand what happened to the first mine. My husband had such high hopes for it.”
Mr. Bennett shrugged. “Mines play out, as this one did. The new black-diamond mine has many years of production ahead of it. An inheritance from my late grandfather is what enabled me to purchase it. As I’ve mentioned, Mr. Stewart’s agreement to join the families was his contribution to the investment. You’ll never want for anything.”
She was being sold off like a piece of jewelry at an auction. Olivia leaped to her feet. “No one has asked me if I am willing.” She rushed across the flagstone and jerked open the door that led into the house. Her mother called after her, but Olivia ignored the summons and raced up the steps to her room, where she collapsed onto her bed.
Tears scalded her cheeks, and she punched her pillow. “I won’t marry him! I won’t!” she said fiercely to the china doll in the middle of the bed. She sat up and rubbed her wet face with the back of her hand. How would she get out of this?
She noticed the mail on her bed table, and the slanted writing on the top envelope made her breath catch in her throat. It almost looked like Eleanor’s bold cursive. She picked it up, her pulse hammering. It was Eleanor’s handwriting. Olivia ripped open the envelope and glanced at the date. A week ago. She must have written it just before she died.
The letter was short and to the point.
My dearest sister, Olivia,
I am in dire straits and I need you to come to me at once. I don’t know where else to turn. Please don’t think it my usual exaggeration when I say I fear for my future, and it will be Harrison’s fault. Come at once. Tell no one.
Your loving sister,
Eleanor
Harrison’s fault? What could she mean? Olivia remembered the last time she’d seen her sister. Eleanor had been dancing around her bedroom in a new blue gown. She’d been so delighted in the adventure of moving clear across the country. Eleanor had been a shooting star in Olivia’s life. How could she ignore this plea, even from the grave?
Could Eleanor have been murdered?
“I shall find out,” she said to the doll staring at her. “If Harrison is responsible for her death, I shall have him brought to justice.”
She rose and went downstairs to make a proposal to her mother. Bennett had left, and her mother was still on the terrace.
“Mr. Bennett is gone?” Olivia asked.
“He left after your most childish outburst.” Her mother rubbed her forehead.
“A migraine?” When her mother nodded, Olivia took a deep breath. “I’ll go to Mercy Falls.” She held up her hand when her mother opened her mouth. “But only on one condition. Don’t tell Mr. Bennett just yet. I want to see if Harrison and I will suit first.”
Her mother’s smile faded. “And if you don’t?”
“Then I’ll come home. I want until summer to decide. Surely you can get by for that long. Go stay with Mrs. Astor. She would be glad to welcome you for the season.”
Her mother shifted in her chair. “I imagine she would. I could close the house and save that expense.” She studied Olivia’s face. “But I suspect there is something you are not telling me, my dear.”
It was better for her mother not to know of Eleanor’s plea. If Mother knew of the danger, she would forbid Olivia to go. “I’ll be fine.”
Her mother sighed. “If only I’d borne your father a son, I would not be in this situation. We would have a man to lean on, but I have only you now. I fear I have no choice but to agree to this harebrained scheme. Otherwise you will reject the marriage outright, correct?”
Olivia folded her hands in her lap and nodded. Her mother leaned back in her chair. “Very well. I hope you know what you’re doing,” her mother said. “If you refuse Harrison, we’ll be unable to keep our change of fortune secret any longer. You’ll be forced to accept the first swell
who offers for you.”
Olivia could only pray for divine providence.
Olivia leaned on the ship’s railing and watched the dark landscape slide past. She had traveled across the country in Mrs. Astor’s private train car. When Olivia and Goldia reached San Francisco, they caught the packet to Mercy Falls, though what she really wanted was to reboard the train and go home. Everything in this faraway land was alien to her, from the wild Pacific Ocean foaming on the rocks to the rough stevedores working at the wharf.
They were nearly to Mercy Falls, and she wanted nothing more than to see the buildings of New York instead of the towering trees of this thickly forested coastline. The fog curling from the base of the trees and over the whitecaps made her shudder.
She sighed and toyed with the strings of her hat. She already missed home, though there would be much to see and do here. For the first time she would see the manor house her father had built in this town four years ago. It was a way of being closer to him.
“Are you frightened, Miss Olivia?” Goldia asked, joining her at the rail.
She shook her head. “I’ve an idea though, Goldia. I’m going to be known here as Lady Devonworth.”
“I thought you hated using your title.”
“I do. But I’d rather not be known as Olivia Stewart. Harrison will be on his guard if he knows I’m in town. With a different name, I can observe him unhindered. I boarded this ship as Lady Devonworth, so please remember not to call me Miss Olivia.”
Goldia’s lips pursed. “I don’t like it, miss. If someone really harmed Miss Eleanor, you could be in danger.”
To Olivia, the plan seemed straightforward. Her maid’s vapors were quite silly. “Not if I’m able to keep my identity a secret. I’ll find out what happened and bring the culprit to justice.”
“Well, I’m scared,” the girl said. Olivia turned away from the waters to face her.
Was that a man in the shadows? Olivia squinted into the darkness. “Who’s there?” she called. No answer came, but a cat strolled into the wash of light, and she relaxed. “It’s so damp here. Could you fetch my shawl?” she asked her maid.
Goldia nodded and hurried away. The fog quickly muffled the sound of her footsteps. Olivia stared at the lighthouse twinkling in the distance. Everything would change soon, and she would have to assume a role.
A sound came behind her, and she assumed it was Goldia until she smelled a man’s cologne. She half turned at the furtive, sliding noise, but before she could see who was joining her, hard hands seized her from behind. The man’s breath smelled of mint. She flailed at the assailant, but her fists struck only air. Her slippers slid along the polished deck, and the next moment she found herself bent over the railing, facing the turbulent water. The hard rail dug into her stomach and stole her breath. She tried to scream, but panic closed her throat as her balance tipped toward the water and away from the boat. With a last push from her assailant, she was plunging into the waves with her arms pinwheeling.
Cold water closed over her head. She fought the pull of the sea on her soaked skirt. A current took her deeper. Panicked, she kicked toward where she thought the surface was, though there was no light to guide her. Her head broke through, and she drew in the sweetest breath she’d ever known before the waves grabbed her. Before she went under again, she saw a light winking to her right. With her lungs full of air, she groped at her laces. Before she managed to get her boots off, her chest began to burn with the need to breathe. With that weight removed, she was able to rocket back to the surface. Gasping, she dog-paddled in the waves. She gulped in air, gathered her strength, then struck out toward the blinking light.
Her arms and legs ached as she fought the current. A cramp struck her calf and she cried out. Her head went under the waves and she gulped salty water. She was going to drown, just like her sister. She struggled for the surface.
A hand grabbed her arm and yanked her up, pulling her out of the depths. Hands flipped her onto her back, then a rough palm cupped her chin. The next thing she knew she was being towed toward shore.
Her bottom hit sand. She smelled kelp and felt seaweed around her waist. Then arms dragged her forward until she lay across hard thighs. She gagged up seawater.
“Are you all right?” a deep voice asked. The man sat her up.
She blinked water out of her eyes and realized she was still sitting on his lap. His hands gripped her forearms.
Water dripped from his dark hair down his face, and his breathing was as ragged as hers. “Were you trying to kill yourself?” he demanded.
“Someone pushed me,” she said. “A man. You were on the ship?”
“I didn’t see anyone push you.” His tone indicated he doubted her words. “I heard you scream and I ran to the railing.”
“You jumped in to save me?”
He shrugged. “I could hardly do anything else. It was clear you were not going to make it to shore by yourself.”
Something about him was familiar, but it was too dark to make out much more than the tilt of his head and his dark hair and eyes. She struggled to stand. “Thank you,” she said. “You can let me up now.”
He moved her off his lap onto the shore, then stood and offered her a hand. She allowed him to help her up. “Is that the lighthouse?” she asked, pointing toward the beacon on the hill.
“Yes, I’ll get help. Stay here.” He jogged off into the darkness.
She wasn’t about to sit and wait when someone had just tried to kill her, but he didn’t answer when she called out after him. He was quick, and her voice was too raw and thin from the salt water to be heard over the waves. She walked on wobbly legs toward the lighthouse.
Harrison pounded on the door to the lighthouse and Will Jesperson answered the summons. Harrison had been friends with the lightkeeper ever since Will moved to town, and the keeper was quick to grab a lantern and a blanket.
“The woman says she was deliberately thrown overboard?” Will asked as they picked their way back down the rocky slope.
“That’s what she said.”
“You believe her?”
Harrison paused to catch his breath as Will swept the light around the area. “I saw her in the water and thought she might have jumped, but she seemed panicked. She’s lucky I was there.”
“Her skirts might have dragged her down,” Will agreed.
Harrison frowned and stared at the landscape. “I know this is where I left her. I told her to wait here.”
“Maybe she went to the dock to try to rendezvous with her family. Let’s look there.”
Harrison went in the direction of the stevedores’ shouts as they carried crates from the ship that had just docked. “Why would she run off?”
“She didn’t know you. Not likely to obey the orders of a stranger.” Will held the lantern aloft, but the yellow glow revealed nothing but a few crabs scuttling out of the way.
What might have made her leave? He didn’t like the direction his thoughts led. What if she really had been attacked? “You suppose whoever attacked her came back?” Harrison asked.
“The thought crossed my mind too. It’s worrisome,” Will said.
They reached the quay. Harrison stopped several men alighting from the ferry and explained what had happened. Two men pushed a dinghy into the waves and shoved off. Harrison prayed they didn’t find the pretty lady’s body.
It took Olivia much longer than she anticipated to make it to the brick residence attached to the light tower. She was shaking and winded by the time she reached the top, probably because she had been unable to find a path and climbed awkwardly over rocks instead. She heard a shout in the distance and realized the man had gone back another way to find her. He and someone else were shouting for her, but she didn’t have the strength to answer them.
Her arm shook as she raised her fist and pounded on the door. Inside, a child squealed, and the happy sound put her at ease.
The door opened, and a pretty brunette stood wiping floury hands on an apron. A
little girl of about three stood by her feet. The woman’s smile faded as she registered Olivia’s condition. “You’re soaking wet! Come in.” She stepped aside.
Olivia stepped into the welcoming warmth of the hall. Some kind of beef dish was on the stove for dinner, and her stomach gave a rumble at the aroma of onions and tomatoes. She shivered as the young woman led her to the fire in the parlor. The little girl scampered after them.
The woman draped a throw around Olivia’s shoulders. “Was there a shipwreck? Will was called out to help a victim.”
“No, no, there was a man.” Olivia clutched the warmth of the wool to her. “H-He threw me overboard.” It had really happened, hadn’t it? Some man had tried to kill her and nearly succeeded.
The other woman gasped. “Oh my dear! We need to get you out of those wet clothes. We’re of a similar build. Let me get you a towel. You stay by the fire.” She rushed from the room and her feet pounded up the stairs.
Olivia’s eyes burned, and she fought the sting of tears, aware it was a reaction to her near drowning. She managed to smile down at the little girl who regarded her with big, dark eyes. “Might I ask your name, little one? You’re very cute.”
“I’m Jennie,” the little one said, reaching a chubby hand to Olivia’s wet skirt.
The other woman’s footsteps came back down the stairs, and she entered the parlor with a cotton dress and a towel slung across her arm. “I took the liberty of bringing you a change of clothing. Here you are. I’ll take Jennie into the kitchen with me. No one will disturb you while you change.”
The strength ran out of Olivia’s legs and she nearly fell. “I-I think I shall need your assistance,” she said.
“Of course.” The young woman stepped behind Olivia and released the laces on the back. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Olivia Stewart.” Too late she realized she’d revealed her true identity.
“I’m Katie Jesperson. My husband is the lightkeeper here.” She helped Olivia step out of her ruined clothes, then dropped a clean dress over her head.
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