03 - Dreams of Destiny

by May McGoldrick

  “I’m not sure I like your use of the word we.”

  David grabbed one of her slender ankles and pulled until her legs were stretched across his lap. “Well, I’m sure.”

  “You are not the only one who has been trying to forget. There will be too many people upset over this. I do not think ‘tis such a good idea to—”

  “I think ‘twould be a wonderful idea if we do it together.” He pushed up her skirt and looked down at her smooth legs. Her fingers closed around his wrist when he began to slide his fingers along the inside of one thigh.

  “You should just explain everything to Lyon. He’ll understand. You have convinced me…you could do the same to him.”

  “I cannot, my love,” he laughed. “I have no interest in doing with him what you and I have done.”

  “You are incorrigible. I am not talking about—”

  She stopped with a gasp when he touched the very center of her pleasure. David smiled at the blush that crept into her cheeks. He could hear her breath growing short.

  She tried to reach for him, but he opened the neckline of the dress roughly. Hungrily, he took in the perfect swell of her breasts before his mouth closed around a pink tip. He suckled hard as his finger delved inside of her.

  “David—”

  Her cry of pleasure made him crazy for more. He tugged on the arms of the dress, impatient to be rid of anything that hampered his ability to touch and caress and love her. He felt her begin a battle of her own, pushing at David’s clothes with her one good arm.

  “How do you bring this out in me?” Gwyneth’s fingers took a fistful of his hair and her mouth ground against his in a fevered kiss. “How do you make me want you this badly?”

  “’Tis the two of us, my love.” He lifted her up and in a moment she was straddling him. He felt her lower herself until he was fully embedded inside of her. “We were made for each other. We were never meant to be apart.”

  She didn’t argue, and he smiled as she instead gave herself up to their dance of love.

  ****

  Everyone reminded her constantly that she should rest, but Millicent simply could not. The movements within her of her soon-to-be-born child. Lyon’s continuing recovery. Josephine’s endless energy. Life was too exciting to miss a moment of it. And now the knowledge that Violet was safe and happily situated. It was all so thrilling. She was hoping to see this wonder with her own two eyes.

  This was the first time that Millicent had made a visit to Greenbrae Hall. Her view of it from outside was just as it had been described to her by Truscott. A handsome stone house standing a full three stories high, with wings extending out to either side of the main structure. The grounds stretched a great distance around the place, with aHer cryg oak-lined drive leading up to it. Beyond one of the wings, she had been able to make out the deer park along the Tweed. Baronsford had been visible, too, its massive walls glittering in the morning light.

  The inside was just as striking. In the high-ceilinged entrance hall, an ancient clock ticked away at the top of marble tower set into one wall. On either side, arched marble pillars formed corridors leading toward the back of the great house, and creating open galleries that looked down on the tiled floor of the entry hall. The effect was tasteful but somewhat cold, and she had been surprised when the servant had led her to a sitting room that was paneled with dark oak. The sun was shining into the room, which was very comfortable and warm.

  She paced about the heavily furnished room to calm herself. This visit was about Violet…and about Gwyneth’s injury. It had nothing to do with Lyon’s first wife, she told herself. She was not going to allow anything spoil her happiness at this moment.

  Millicent paused before two large paintings above the fireplace and decided that they must be the portraits of Lord and Lady Cavers. She studied the latter. There was a resemblance in the shape of the face and the eyes to her daughter, but Lady Cavers appeared to be larger, more buxom, almost imperial in her bearing. It occurred to her that the countess had the look of a woman who was directing the artist as he painted.

  There had been no occasion for Millicent to meet Emma’s mother in person, and she knew that Augusta had not yet arrived in Scotland. And that was fine with Millicent. She had heard the rumors. Lady Cavers carried a grudge about Lyon’s second marriage.

  There was a painting of Emma as a young girl on her mother’s lap on an adjoining wall, and Millicent looked at it. She was relieved that she had never known Lyon when Emma was alive, though she never thought of Emma as an enemy. She was just happy that she came into his life after Emma was gone. Their life was something that they were building together. They were creating their own history as they lived it.

  Gwyneth was a completely different matter. Though she was a part of the history that existed between Baronsford and Greenbrae Hall, Millicent had met the young woman on several occasions and liked her very much. In fact, Millicent guessed that if it were not for the hard feelings that obviously existed between Lady Cavers and the Pennington family, she would have seen more of Gwyneth than she had. The fact that she’d found Violet and was sheltering her was more proof that Millicent’s instinct about her had been correct.

  David’s obvious interest in the young woman presented so many wonderful possibilities, as well. In visiting her today, she was hoping to invite Gwyneth to come and stay with them at Baronsford while her aunt was away. Lady Cavers’s opinion actually mattered little to Millicent.

  Millicent sensed someone was watching her, and she turned to the door. For a brief moment, she didn’t recognize the young woman, half hidden in the shadow of the doorway. And then as she stepped forward, Millicent’s heart leaped.

  “Violet!” she cried, walking toward her and forgetting her own vow of not frightening the young woman. “’Tis really you! I can hardly believe you are finally standing here with me, safe. I never thought I would be given another chance of seeing you, of speaking to you.”

  Millicent gathered Violet in her arms, tears splashing onto her face. Her heart and mind sent a prayer of thanks to God for bringing them together again.

  “Let me see you,” she whispered brokenly, pulling back and holding her at arm’s length.

  Violet’s chin quivered, and her face was wet with tears. Millicent could see that she had aged. The months since she had left Melbury Hall had been very rough on her. The lustrous shine in the golden curls were gone. The flawless skin was now touched by the abuses of the harsh northern weather. The spark of innocence in her blue eyes had been doused, replaced now by sorrow and experience.

  “I am so sorry, m’lady.”

  “No, I am sorry. I am sorry for letting you down—for not taking care of you the way I should have. I made a promise to your mother and your grandmother, and I carelessly forgot my vow.”

  “You cannot blame yourself. You could not have been better or kinder to me. You gave me everything I could have dreamed of—a good job, respect, freedom, even friends who were close to me to be kin.” She was fighting back tears. “I was so wretched. A complete fool. I thought I knew. I trusted when…I…I did wrong. I sinned and…and my child had to pay. No one would ever forgive me for what I did…no one will…not even God can ever forgive what I’ve done.”

  A sob stopped her from continuing. She covered her face with both hands and could not catch her breath in her grief. Millicent pulled Violet into her embrace and took her to a sofa, forcing her to sit beside her. She caressed the young woman’s arms and back as her tears mingled with Violet’s.

  A few moments passed and then a young serving girl carrying a tray of tea came to an abrupt halt in the doorway. She looked worriedly from Violet’s bent head to Millicent’s tearstained face.

  Millicent rose quickly to her feet and took the tray from the girl’s hand, putting it on a nearby table. “Would you be kind enough to leave us alone for a short while?”

  The maid nodded quickly. “So I shouldn’t go after Miss Gwyneth for ye?”

  “Not yet.
Violet will go after her when the time is right.”

  “As ye wish, m’lady.” Darting worried glances at Violet, the girl curtsied and backed out of the room.

  Millicent closed the door shut and went back to the sofa. The sobbing of the young woman had become silent tears, but their intensity had not decreased.

  “I do not know where you went when you left Melbury Hall,” she whispered gently. “But ‘tis obvious that you have gone through a great deal of hardship these past months. The one thing I want you to know is that I shall never think badly of you for anything in the past. You have never done me wrong, Vi. That I know.”

  “I caused you to worry. That’s wrong enough,” Violet whispered, her gaze focusing on Millicent’s swollen belly. “I didn’t…I didn’t know you were with child.”

  “’Tis a wonder, is it not?” the countess smiled, wiping the tears from her face. “At my age…I never thought it could be possible.”

  “You are healthy and blessed with a fine home and caring husband. You and your baby shall do well.” She dashed at her own tears. “And you shouldn’t fuss over your age. My mother was older than you when she had me. And she used to say that if my father hadn’t passed away, she would have had at least a half dozen more before she was done.”

  Millicent was relieved to see Violet getting over the tears. “I visited your mother and grandmother in the spring, and again just before we came to Scotland. They are both doing very well.”

  The young woman’s chin sank onto her chest again. Millicent reached out and lifted it until she could look into Vi’s face. “Your grandmum knew that someday you would be back. They shall be thrilled to hear you are well.”

  “I’ve shamed them, m’lady. They’d have been better off if I’d never been found.”

  “Don’t say that,” Millicent scolded gently. “Too many people have been praying for you to come back to them. Your mother and grandmother. All your friends at Melbury Hall…including me. People who you knew in Knebworth Village.”

  “I am not worthy of that,” Violet said brokenly. “I’ve done nothing to deserve of such kindness.”

  “But you have.” Millicent took the young woman’s hand. “There is not a time that I run into Moses at Melbury Hall that he doesn’t ask me when you are coming back. Jonah has told me at least a dozen times that they’ve found the old man out on the road to St. Albans, waiting for the mail coach. Moses tells him each time that he doesn’t want you to walk back alone in the dark to Melbury Hall. And you should see the beautiful baskets he’s been weaving for you. He told me himself that you always carried the first one he ever made when you’d go to the village.”

  Millicent took a handkerchief from her sleeve and handed it to Violet.

  “M’lady, these past months, whenever I thought that I could not take another step, or take another breath, whenever I thought ‘twould be better just to lie down and die—I’ve thought of Moses. I remembered the first time that I met him, his black skin scarred and raw from a lifetime of beating. I recalled the stories I heard about all he’d faced during his life…and I thought about the kindness that never left his heart. He was one of the reasons I am still alive.” Violet’s teary gaze met Millicent’s. “And you were the other reason. You’ve shown me what it means to be strong. Watching you over the years, seeing how you survived the Squire, knowing how much good you’ve done for all your people. When I was out there on the moors with the wind and sleet cutting through me, you were the angel guiding my way.”

  “Violet,” Millicent sighed, pulling the young woman into her arms again. Her own emotions were so raw that she could not control the tears. She was unable to calm the quaver in her voice. She silently thanked God for bringing Vi safely to them. She thanked Him for Ohenewaa’s power, giving Millicent hope as she waited.

  “I need to tell you the rest.” Violet pulled back. “I cannot bear to hold back any of the truth.”

  Millicent knew what Violet was feeling. She too had never been able to put her mind at rest until Lyon had been told all the circumstances surrounding Squire Wentworth’s death. She knew she had to give the young woman the chance to lay down her burden. Even as Vi started, though, Millicent knew that no crime Violet had committed would change the way she felt.

  Millicent had been given a second chance at life and at happiness. Violet would get that same chance.

  ****

  There was no justice in this world, of that Gwyneth was certain.

  How could David possibly walk away from all they’d done to each other and look so composed? She, on the other hand, was a complete mess. Her hair and her dress were in complete disarray. Life with him would certainly offer no justice, whatsoever. Wearing a very satisfied look on his face, he stood by the window and pretended to look out at Baronsford as she tried to put herself into some semblance of order. Her throbbing shoulder and ribs were not helping. Curious how she’d barely noticed them a few minutes earlier.

  “Being away for so long, I had to promise the dowager to take at least one meal with her each day. Will you come back and dine with us at Baronsford?”

  “The doctor’s instructions were for me to rest, remember? No leaving my room, no travel, no arduous activities of any kind.”

  “Of course not,” he whispered as they left Emma’s sitting room and stepped into the corridor. “Still, come back with me to Baronsford.”

  “I really cannot.”

  He was literally sweeping her off her feet with his attention. He was making her begin to think that they could work through all their troubles, no matter what they were. They had already discussed Emma, but Gwyneth still needed to find a way to tell him about her writing and the blackmailer that was hounding her. “‘Twould be better if I stayed here and pretended to be following the doctor’s orders.”

  “Come and stay. Since Greenbrae Hall is not fully staffed, I know Millicent would insist.”

  She shook her head politely. “Being here will be more comfortable for me and Violet. I wouldn’t want to leave her here alone, and I don’t know how she would feel about going to Baronsford right now.” She sensed David was ready to argue further. She lowered her voice and put an arm on his sleeve. “I know you will be coming back here tonight, anyway. With my aunt away…the accommodations at Greenbrae Hall will be more suitable for—”

  Pulling her into an alcove, David took her in his arms and kissed her deeply. Gwyneth had to lean against him when he finally broke off the kiss. “I shall be back sooner than you think.”

  “While you’re gone, I shall look through some of Emma’s belongings for some idea of who might have been involved in her death.” Gwyneth looked down the hall in the direction they had come. “It would have been so much easier if she were fond of writing and kept a diary. There is so much one can learn by reading what a person writes.”

  She looked back to David and noticed he was eying at her curiously. The footsteps of one of the maids coming up the stairs ended the awkward moment, though. The girl appeared eager to speak to Gwyneth.

  “I shall see you tonight,” he said. The backs of their fingers brushed momentarily, and Gwyneth stood at the top of the stairs watching him go. When he glanced back at her, she wondered how much, if anything, she had just revealed about herself.

  *****

  Violet’s surprise at hearing what took place at Melbury Hall the night she killed Ned Cranch was as dramatic as Millicent’s reaction to her tale.

  “So Jasper Hyde and his men still managed to get there even without Ned?”

  “They did,” Millicent said. “But the damage was lessened since they had no one with them who was familiar with the estate or the house and people. Your courage in stopping the stonemason made all the difference.”

  “’Twas no courage, m’lady,” Violet admitted quietly. “Just anger and necessity pushed me do it.”

  “I wish you hadn’t run off.”

  “I had no choice. I had broken every rule my family had ever taught me. In many ways, I w
as as guilty as the dead man lying at my feet.”

  “You were not. You are not!” Millicent said with passion, taking Violet’s hand. “Ned Cranch tricked and used you from the start, just as Squire Wentworth used me in our five years of marriage. There were many times that I wanted to do the same thing to the Squire that you did to Ned. There were so many times when I cursed at my own cowardice for not putting an end to all of it sooner. You had the strength to do what had to be done. I am only now learning that strength. But there is no doubt in my mind that if an occasion such as the one you faced presented itself to me now—when it came down to taking a life of an evil man to spare the lives of innocent people I cared about, I know I would do the same thing.”

  “I don’t know that the law would agree, m’lady.”

  “Then the law will never know what really happened,” Millicent said adamantly. “At Melbury Hall, in Knebworth Village, in St. Albans, the news was the same. A loud-mouthed, drunken stonemason had met his fate in that tavern, probably at the hand of another drunk. No one saw anything, Vi, and no one cared to look for the assailant.”

  A small flame of hope kindled inside of her. Violet knew it wasn’t for her own sake, but for her family. The ordeal of seeing her hanged for murder would surely crush them.

  “I think sometimes about Ned’s widow and children,” Vi said.

  “There is no widow,” Millicent said. “We asked Mr. Trimble, the rector of the church in the village, to go and notify the family. There was no wife. ‘Twas just another lie.”

  Violet shook her head.

  “’Tis time to put that chapter of your life behind you,” Millicent continued. “The same way that I have gone on since the Squire’s death, you must put Ned Cranch behind you. He no longer has any hold on you.”

  Violet stared at her callused fingers. She could still see the dirt from her daughter’s grave beneath her fingernails.