Kitty thought for a moment, wondering how best to approach what bothered her. She could hardly tell this woman about the intense physical longing that happened each time she had any contact with Kit’s cousin. Deciding on a safe way to start, she asked, “Are Kit and his cousin very much alike?”
Mrs. Marlowe sighed, “Not having seen his face you’re wondering if they look alike, I suppose. Yes, they are remarkably the same. Features, hair, height.” The woman paused and stared at the flames. “Almost like they could be the same person.”
Seizing on this, Kitty pushed, “Would Kit allow Phineas to make decisions for him? Perhaps even allow Phineas to take his place for important things?” She couldn’t bring herself to suggest it, though the certificate below hinted that Phineas might have substituted for Kit at a very important event.
Shaking her head, Mrs. Marlowe sighed tiredly, “Those aren’t questions for me to answer. I’m off to bed unless you have more on your mind.”
Sensing that Mrs. Marlowe would hedge at any further questions Kitty might ask her, she wished the woman a good night. Changing into her heavy winter gown, she settled into bed with little hope of sleeping after such a disturbing Christmas.
At a knock on the door, the maid timidly entered and handed her Arti. He wriggled in delight at seeing her and let loose with one of his adorable barks that sounded as if he were saying, “Roo! Roo!” Before leaving the girl assured her, “He’s performed Ma’am. I’ll just put these old papers on the floor next to the bed should he need to do his job again.”
Cuddling his furry, warm body close to her, Kitty determined to close her eyes and sleep. Still, she turned and tossed for another hour. After a while, she rose from the bed. Dressing in a robe and slippers, she threw her cloak over them and decided to take Arti to the backyard for a quick romp.
Walking past her husband’s bedroom, the sound of a woman’s voice alarmed her. She had never been in the room, but had he allowed another woman in there with him?
To her way of thinking, she seemed to have peeked and snooped a lot already that day. Mentally shrugging, she put an ear to his door to try to recognize the voices. At the same time, she picked up the excited puppy and quietly shushed him. Immediately settling in her arms, she decided he made a great partner in snooping. Maybe she should have named him Snoopy.
Speaking softly, the voices were difficult to make out. She heard the words “suspects something” and “two sets of books”. Frustrated, Kitty wondered if the conversation concerned Robert Forrest and whether the partner had made two sets of books to cheat Kit.
Perhaps she was wrong, but Kitty was convinced she recognized Mrs. Marlowe’s voice. At least Kit didn’t have a lightskirt in his room or one of the maids. And who was she to protest after the kiss in the buggy? Remembering that shamed and tormented her.
When Arti gave a low whine of impatience, the voices in the room abruptly stopped. Kitty rushed to the stairs and was on the second step when Mrs. Marlowe opened Kit’s bedroom door to search the hallway. Upon seeing her, the woman smiled knowingly at the puppy. “One more trip out, huh? The trouble with a new pup is he’s always needing to go out. Hope you can train him quick.”
Kitty returned the smile but said nothing, merely continuing down the stairs and into the backyard. The cool of the night caused her to shiver when she exited the house. Setting Arti down, he raced happily across the lawn, sniffing at the few remaining patches of snow. More fog shrouded the features of the yard, intensifying the sense of mystery she already felt in this house. Though he was an enigma, she hoped to learn the truth behind Kit Randolph soon.
Finally settled into bed again with Arti, she forced her mind to empty of questions and concerns. After petting her little friend for a time, she relaxed and drifted to sleep.
She knew she was dreaming. The lips caressed her hand and traveled up the inside of her arm. Sensations shot through her, causing quivers to go through her. Something metal weighted down the ring finger of her left hand, bringing her awake.
Sitting up quickly, she saw the shadow of a person pull back from her. In the silence of the dark room, his soft chuckle sounded loud. Alarmed she gasped, unable to scream or even squeak.
“Don’t be afraid. I wanted to slide your wedding band on your finger. To be sure you know you’re mine.”
At the low hiss of the voice, she relaxed back against the bed. “Oh Kit! You startled me.” She pulled back the covers for him. Disturbed by her near betrayal of him that day, she summoned up the courage to invite him into the bed with her, “Please, join me?”
Silence hung heavy after her invitation. She wished she could see his reaction, wished he would trust her to see his face.
Finally, a groan issued from him. In a voice that sounded remarkably like his cousin, he responded without the low hiss usually present in his voice. “Until you know all my secrets, it’s best for me to go back to my room.”
Instead of leaving, he stepped closer to the bed. In the inky blackness, he reached a hand in the direction of her face. Once he found it, his lips touched first her marred cheek and then inched toward her mouth. After a kiss that hinted at how much he wished he could join her in the bed, he left her as quietly as he’d come.
When he passed by her curtained windows, light from a flash of lightning made its way past the fabric into the room. By this brief illumination, she glimpsed the silhouette of his brow and nose. Both closely resembled his cousin and further confused the two in her mind.
Rain pounded the windows as Kitty set Arti on the papered floor, urging him to do his business. Like a good boy, he obeyed. She wondered if the farmer or his son had started training the puppies on papers before letting the pups go to new homes.
Hearing the hard beat of the rain, she thought about the swollen river she’d crossed that day. What would it be like after this unusual December thunderstorm? Though it shouldn’t matter to her, goose pimples raised the hairs on her arm as she thought about that river. Strange. It reminded her of a saying her mother used often. “Someone is walking over my grave.”
Chapter 7
By the weak light that penetrated the cloudy sky, Kitty admired the gold band set with a diamond sandwiched between what she believed to be rubies. Already dressed for the day, she picked up her hairbrush. As she did so, the loose ring slipped off her finger.
When Kitty reclaimed the ring from the floor, she noticed engraving inside of it. Moving back to the window for the bit of light it provided, she read it. TO K EVER YOURS P.
The Jeweler had made a mistake. Probably Phineas ordered the ring for Kit. But, realistically, would both a jeweler and the minister make a similar error. Her husband might want to hide, but she would find him and get the answers she wanted.
With her hair fixed, she rang for the maid. Handing Arti over to her, she asked that he be exercised and fed. This taken care of, she went in search of her reclusive spouse.
After knocking on her husband’s door, she waited for him to either open it or invite her to come in. When neither happened, she made her way downstairs to the dining room. Mrs. Marlowe sat at the table, alone, eating her breakfast.
At Kitty’s entrance into the room, the companion lifted her head and greeted her. Absentmindedly returning the greeting, Kitty immediately asked, “Do you know where, in the house, I’ll find my husband?”
Casually lifting a china cup to her lips, the woman reminded her mistress, “Your husband does not like to be disturbed. It would be best to wait until he looks for you.”
Mutinously, Kitty refused to be cowed by the woman’s gentle reprimand. “I will speak with him now! I insist you tell me where he is.”
Compressing her lips into a tight line, Mrs. Marlowe admitted, “He’s not in the house. That is all I have to say on the matter and ask that you do not press me further about it.” With that, the companion deserted the room, leaving Kitty alone.
Silently mulling over the idea that her husband had left the house, Kitty wondered if the pos
sible embezzlement had pushed him to leave his self-imposed exile. She hurried to follow Mrs. Marlowe, wanting to question her about that. In the hall, she caught a glimpse of the woman as she left the house. Racing to the parlor window, Kitty saw the woman walking quickly down the sidewalk.
With no one to speak to, Kitty moved to the bell pull. Requesting a pot of tea from the girl who answered her summons, she decided to enjoy a cup of the warm beverage while reflecting on the strange behavior of her husband, his cousin, and now Mrs. Marlowe.
She hadn’t been sipping her tea long before a knock sounded on the front door. Kitty wondered if Mrs. Marlowe had returned and felt the need to knock before entering the house.
When the maid called from the other side of the parlor door, Kitty gave her permission to enter. The maid opened the door but stood back to allow another person to precede her into the room. With a rustle of petticoats, Regina Forrest flounced into the parlor.
Rudely ordering the maid to close the door, Mrs. Forrest then refused the seat Kitty offered her. “Dear Mrs. Randolph, it is just too, too awful. You must come with me. My Precious Forrest sent me to get you.”
Lord above! One more person acting strangely today. Was there something in the water here in Wisconsin that caused insanity?
With a soothing voice, Kitty attempted to make sense out of the woman’s statement, “Calm yourself, Mrs. Forrest. Where do you think I need to go and why?”
Mrs. Forrest put a hand to her mouth, trying to stop a small sob that still escaped. As Kitty watched, one lone tear trickled down the woman’s right cheek. “It’s about your poor husband. Forrest knows the dear man is being cheated and will need you when he confronts that terrible cousin of his.”
With a fist held dramatically to her heart, she lamented, “It will be just like a dagger thrust into dear Kit Randolph.”
Cold dread seized Kitty at the thought of Forrest and her husband confronting Phineas. How would he have been able to cheat Kit? He didn’t work in the office.
Ready to voice her doubt, Kitty opened her mouth to respond. Mrs. Forrest let loose with another of her little sobs before saying, “Truly, I know more about being a businessman’s wife than you, my dear. Best be available to him during times like these. Hurry now!”
Pulling Kitty up with a hand on her upper arm, the larger woman dragged her out of the parlor and toward the front door. At the door, Kitty gripped the door jamb with her fingers to stop the woman. “Won’t I need my cloak at least?”
Clicking her tongue at Kitty’s question, the woman assured her, “I’ve blankets in the buggy. Now’s not the time to be so selfish and worry only about your comfort. Really, I had hoped for a better wife for sweet Mr. Randolph.”
Without even bothering to shut the door behind her, the older woman pulled Kitty down the sidewalk to her buggy. She half-pushed, half-flung her into it and then shoved Kitty over before rocking the buggy by settling her bulk into it. Snapping the reins, she hustled the horses toward Cranberry Street and the bridge they had to cross to get to Kit’s factory.
Soon after getting the horses started, the woman began to talk. Gone was the sweet little girl’s voice. A mature and much lower voice issued from her frowning mouth now. “I hear you were poking around the factory yesterday. You and that Phineas can’t be allowed to ruin things for my husband. When he told me about seeing you there, I knew what had to be done.”
They approached the bridge. Already on edge by the menace she heard in the woman’s voice as well as the implied threats, Kitty dreaded crossing the river that swirled and foamed after last night’s heavy rain. When they had made it about half-way across the bridge, Mrs. Forrest gasped. “Did you see that child in the water?”
Hurriedly setting the brake, the woman bolted from the buggy. Kitty raced after her and leaned over the bridge to look down into the dark water below. “I don’t see any…”
The hands at her back pushed hard. Then Kitty felt her legs being lifted before she hurtled through the air toward the raging torrent below.
Mrs. Marlowe struggled to catch her breath as she entered the sheriff’s office. Flinging open the door, she startled the two men inside. Both Sheriff Connors and Phineas jumped to their feet.
“What in the name of sanity are you doing here, Alma?” Phineas waited impatiently for her to gather enough air into her lungs to answer him. While she sat gasping in a chair, he introduced her to the Sheriff. “This is Alma Marlowe, a Pinkerton detective. She’s watching out for Kitty until we can jail Forrest. If we can’t get him for Kit’s murder, you should at least be able to arrest him for embezzlement with the notes I’ve written based on the two sets of books.”
By this time the woman had regained her breath. “Phineas, I think you’d best get yourself back to the house. Kitty insists she wants her husband. I think the fats in the fire now, and she intends to get some answers.”
Asking the sheriff to put the double set of books into his safe, Phineas guided Mrs. Marlowe to his buggy. As she recounted her earlier conversation with Kitty, he hurried them down First Avenue. Both were surprised to see that very woman fly quickly past them as a passenger in a buggy driven by Regina Forrest. Turning the horses, he followed the rig at a distance.
Just before he saw them approach the iron bridge, a young child rushed out into the road in front of his horse. Pulling back, he stopped the horses in time. Jumping from the buggy, he helped the fallen child up and made sure he’d come to no harm. Patting the young boy on the head, he handed the child to an older girl who had chased after him and absently reprimanded the tyke to stay out of the road.
Back in the buggy, he worried about catching up with the other vehicle. With a sigh of relief, he noticed it stopped ahead of him on the bridge, almost as if the women were waiting for him to catch up. That relief died suddenly as he watched a body go over the side of the bridge.
Whipping the reins to the horses’ backs, he hurried to the bridge, stopping before the buggy entered it. Giving control of the horses over to Mrs. Marlowe, he yelled for her to get help. Then he sprinted to the riverbank.
Kitty’s head bobbed in and out of the water as it carried her farther away from the bridge. Phineas watched the current carry a large tree limb toward her, hoping she’d grab onto it but afraid it would hit her head and cause her to drown. Yelling for her to grab it, he felt sure his effort was wasted. How would she hear him over the roar of the flooded river?
Whether because she did hear him or out of the instinct to survive, Kitty grasped the branch as it passed her. Now that she could keep her head above water, he needed to figure out a way to rescue her from the swift current.
As the flood moved her downstream, Phineas kept pace with her on the bank and watched her closely. She didn’t let go of the branch but had to be growing dangerously cold in the water. A shout from behind him had him tearing his eyes away from the woman he planned to spend his life with and had vowed to protect.
A man raced from the lumber mill that sat further ahead on the riverbank. The man carried a Peavy as he ran toward Phineas. Thrusting it at him, he shouted, “Use this to get her.”
Phineas roared, “Are you crazy? The hook might kill her.”
With a frustrated harrumph and not bothering to explain, the man shoved past him and stepped into the shallow water nearest the bank. As the water washed Kitty past him, he snared the branch she hugged with the hook at the end of the logging tool and, with a mighty yank, pulled both the branch and Kitty from the current.
Someone else ran from the mill, carrying a blanket. Thanking the stranger, Phineas took the woolen blanket and wrapped Kitty in it before lifting her into his arms. The words she muttered took him by surprise.
“Are you Kit or Phineas? Or both?”
Chapter 8
Fighting the sleep that threatened, Kitty wanted to stay awake to speak to her husband. Mrs. Marlowe had promised to bring him to her.
After being cradled in Phineas’ arms, Kitty had asked him who he was. A
crowd of people surrounded them then, including a man who identified himself as the sheriff. He wanted details, questioning her all the while that Phineas carried her to the waiting buggy.
While she sat on his lap in the buggy, Mrs. Marlowe drove them back to the house. In some part of her mind, Kitty wondered that the woman didn’t object to Phineas holding her. This fact became just one more thing that confirmed for Kitty that she had guessed correctly about her husband.
Hustling her to the back of the house, Mrs. Marlowe helped Kitty into the bathing chamber and a warm bath, using the water kept hot by a small stove in the room. After that, the woman assisted the exhausted younger woman into her nightgown and robe before taking her arm and leading her up the stairs.
Poor Arti yipped frantically from the bottom of the steps as the women climbed the staircase. A maid promised to bring him up as soon as Kitty was settled in her room.
Now with the warm dog body cuddled next to her, she struggled against the fatigue in much the same way as she’d fought the current earlier in the day. Determined, she promised herself answers before going to sleep. She only hoped she would be able to calmly listen to him explain why he’d deceived her.
Without knocking first, Phineas pushed open her door and walked to the bed. “I heard you wanted to speak to your husband.”
Sleep forgotten, Kitty hissed like an angry cat. “I knew it! So many things pointed to you being the one under the mask at our wedding.”
Uncomfortable with him seeing her unclothed, she pulled the covers up to her chin and glared. “Why didn’t you tell me Kit wouldn’t marry me? Instead, you take his place. Were you afraid I couldn’t handle his rejection?”
Though Phineas’ shoulders had been hunched and his head bowed, at her questions he straightened up and looked at her oddly. Then, with a shake of his head, he explained, “Kit is dead. You never met him.”
He paused to let her absorb the information and then continued. “He had a dinner party early in October so he could tell us all about the mail-order bride he hoped to marry. I was the only guest left when he collapsed and died in my arms, whispering the words ‘books’ and ‘Forrest’. I knew of his suspicions and immediately set about both covering up his death as well as bringing in detectives to investigate.”
A Shadowed Groom For Christmas (Spinster Mail-Order Brides Book 6) Page 5