Adam first looked at me with a bewildered stare. Later, Patrick explained that to Adam, it was like looking at a ghost.
“She is the exact image of Charlotte,” Adam had told Patrick.
Betsy was a jovial woman and instantly befriended me. She was soft spoken and generous when caring for me.
“You and Patrick can stay as long as you wish. Besides, you can’t leave in your condition,” she said one balmy late summer night. “And,” she continued, “I am enjoying your company. It’s nice to have another woman in the house, and it is especially wonderful to have the baby here. Nothing is as precious as a baby.”
Patrick and I we were able to maintain the appearance of a platonic relationship for the benefit of Adam and Betsy for some time. We shared no affection when we believed we were being watched, but behind closed doors, Patrick would come to me when the house was quiet and still, and the baby was sleeping. If I felt well enough, he loved me with a passion that nearly stopped my heart.
I worried that he wouldn’t find me attractive and might be appalled by the healing scar that ran the length of my stomach, but he didn’t seem to even notice.
“You’re more beautiful than ever,” he murmured faintly in my ear before taking me. “I love you beyond belief.”
Then there was the night that Patrick was caught stealing out of my room. Adam couldn’t sleep and had gotten up for a cup of warm milk. He bumped into Patrick in the dark hall.
The next morning Adam asked to see us in his private study. Adam was Patrick’s age and a successful attorney.
His study was surrounded with bookshelves all the way up to the ceilings, filled with what must have been thousands of books. I glanced around in amazement while I sat beside Patrick in one of the fine leather chairs situated before Adam’s bulky, hand-carved mahogany desk.
“I need you both to be honest with me. What is going on between you two?”
Adam was tall and lean, with light summer-sun-colored hair. As he spoke, for a moment I had the impression I was sitting in Daddy’s office, waiting to be lectured.
Adam’s patient stare was fixed on Patrick. He calmly waited for an answer, sitting behind his desk, slowly tapping his fingers on his chin.
“Dare I ask you, my good friend, to overlook your suspicions?” Patrick casually asked.
“You are indeed a good friend, Patrick. Both Betsy and I enjoy your company. You are like family to me, like a brother. And Amelia, I must admit having you here is like having Charlotte alive again. She was a lovely, sweet, vibrant young woman. I have only the fondest memories of her. Then there is the baby, Lillian. Betsy loves that child, and helping you care for the infant has allowed her to finally heal after the loss of her own baby, our son, Francis. Nevertheless, I cannot condone what I see before me. It is unspeakable, I don’t understand it.” Adam’s tone was mild. He wasn’t angry at us for lying to him and stealing around in his home. He was confused and aghast, as could be expected. If he wasn’t such a good friend to Patrick, he certainly would have thrown us out on the street.
“I see the way you two look at one another. I know what love is. How can this be? You are her brother!”
Patrick’s face turned flushed and his chiseled jaw tightened. I knew Patrick was flustered. After all, he had struggled with the same burning question. It pained him so deeply that he ran from it.
Adam looked to me. “Can you tell me, Amelia? Tell me how it is possible for you to be in love with Patrick?”
Without hesitation, guilt, or an ounce of shame, I exposed the profound love I felt for Patrick Garrett Arrington.
“I never knew of my half-brother until he appeared at Sutton Hall. The moment my eyes fell on him, I fell in love. And I believe Patrick felt the same. We had an unspoken passion, and it frightened and confused us both. We ran from it, but it was a lost cause. This love was made by God. Patrick is my lover, my protector, my best friend. And although he is not the father of my baby, Patrick is my soul mate; we share a soul and no matter what you may believe, we share the purest love imaginable.”
I was exasperated and winded, and I reached for Patrick. He came and lifted me out of my chair into his arms and stood before Adam. “We will leave first at light.”
“Patrick, wait!” he called. Adam’s eyes became soft, and after a heavy sigh, he said, “Stay on. Stay as our guests. Until you have another place to go, at least.”
“Thank you, Adam,” Patrick replied and he whisked me off to my room. I lay down to rest.
“When you wake, we’ll go for a walk in the park.”
The late afternoon turned chilly, the sun was low in the crisp blue sky, and the wind was brisk and blustery.
“Is it too cold for you?” Patrick asked as we walked hand in hand along the paths of the enormous park. People strolled behind us, and others sat on benches feeding the pigeons. Some sped by on bicycles, desperately fighting the wind. In the park, it didn’t seem as though we were in a city at all. The scenery was peaceful, unlike the bustling city streets filled with horse-drawn wagons and carriages, street vendors, and city dwellers. Pedestrians came and went on foot with incredible swiftness, in a rush all the time.
Patrick hadn’t spoken, and I didn’t mind. I was enjoying the fresh air, and the feel of the cold wind sweeping through my long hair, lifting it and causing it to flow gracefully behind me.
When we came to a bench overlooking the lake, he asked me to sit. I snuggled close to him, resting my head on his broad shoulder as I gazed out onto the water and watched a couple in one lone rowboat. The man was steadily rowing while the woman sat and gazed at him. I assumed she had a smile on her face, but they were too far away to tell for certain.
Patrick couldn’t seem to get my attention as my thoughts drifted to the couple in the boat. Finally, he gently took hold of my chin and turned my face toward him. Our eyes met and locked.
“You haven’t heard a word I said.”
I gave him a sweet smile and placed a quick kiss on his warm lips.
“I’m sorry. I was daydreaming. Look at the couple out on the lake. Do you think they are happy and in love?”
He turned and looked. “I suppose.”
“Is our true love that obvious? Is that how Adam knew?”
“Amelia?”
“Yes?”
“Amelia, look at me.”
I pried my eyes from the happy couple in the rowboat and focused my attention back on him.
“I have some good news for us,” he began. “I have a job offer.”
“You do?” I hadn’t known he was looking for work. “How is it possible? Isn’t it too risky? What if you are caught?”
“This is no ordinary job. By good fortune, through some connections, I have obtained a position as a keeper of a lighthouse. It’s on a remote station somewhere out in the Atlantic Ocean, far from the war and the prying eyes of suspicious people. We will be safe there and can live in peace, at least until the war is over. This position is normally offered through the appointment of the government. But the station is without a keeper and there is no one to fill the position. No one wants it, and they are desperate. So this position is being offered through word of mouth.”
Patrick appeared excited. I, however, was less than excited.
“We will be living out on the ocean in the middle of nowhere? What kind of life will that be for us, for our baby?” I cried. I hated the thought of being surrounded by deep, dark, water, with no land in sight.
“Don’t you understand? This is perfect. No one will know anything about us, so we can fade into life now, blend in and just disappear with Lillian. We will have a place to lay our heads, eat, and raise her out of harm’s way. We can have the private life that we need to be together. It’s the only way!”
Patrick took my gloved hands in his and held them tight. I was frightened at the thought, fearing for our future.
“Do you not believe in me?” he cried. “Won’t you listen to me, trust in me?”
“I do; it’s
only…”
Patrick slipped down off the bench and knelt before me. The tears in his eyes sparkled when a beam of sunlight that passed through the leaves of the surrounding trees.
“Be my wife. Run away with me. I promise to love you until my dying day.” He buried his cold face in my lap.
“Marry you?” I whispered. I couldn’t believe what he was asking me. I didn’t know what to say.
“Before God, in a church. Just you and me and baby Lillian. No witnesses, no priest, just us, standing before God. Let us take our vows and become man and wife.”
I fell into his embrace and began to cry.
“Why are you sad? Don’t I make you happy?”
“You have made me the happiest woman alive.”
“So these are tears of happiness?” he asked anxiously.
“Only tears of happiness from now on.”
The next day couldn’t go by quickly enough for me. Patrick and I planned to be at the church by eleven in the evening, when mass was long over. We agreed to spend the day apart and meet only when we were ready to make our way to St. Patrick’s Cathedral.
I hummed hymns all morning; a beaming smile wouldn’t leave my face. After tending to the baby, I sat before the mirror and brushed my hair for hours until it became like shimmering silk and cascaded over my shoulders.
Though I hadn’t a dress fit for the occasion, I did the best I could to clean up my best day dress. I was working on a stain in the kitchen when Betsy appeared.
“What are you doing? Esther can take care of your laundry for you.”
“It’s no bother. Just a small spot on the dress,” I said blissfully.
Betsy took a good look at me.
“You have such a happy glow today,” she commented. “What gives you such happiness?
“Nothing especially,” I lied. “It’s merely a fine day, that’s all.”
Betsy came to me and made me stop brushing the stain away.
“I have something for you. Come…”
Betsy took me to her room and to her closet. She moved her half-dozen dresses aside, then reached for the one she had been looking for. The lovely dress was ivory colored, with silk tapestry brocade for the bodice and sleeves, and elaborate embroidered lace for the underskirt and sleeve flounces. Elegant satin ribbon rosettes accentuated the sleeves and skirt draping. Delicate lace with hand-sewn pearls trimmed the sweeping neckline.
“It’s my wedding dress,” she said as I admired the stunning gown she held up before me.
“The gown is breathtaking.”
“I want you to wear it tonight.” Her suggestion took me by surprise. I choked on my response.
“It’s all right. Patrick came to Adam. They are as close as any blood brothers. Patrick asked for Adam’s blessing.
“He did?”
“Sit with me,” she said.
I sat beside her and listened intently. She was only a few years older than I, yet very well-spoken and wise. Betsy watched over me like an older sister. I was grateful for her unconditional benevolence toward me.
“I am certain you have seen troubled times and in your short life have experienced things I can’t imagine. It pains me to know you have suffered.”
Her earnest words suddenly opened a floodgate of pent-up emotions. I was mostly crying for a childhood lost. I had been forsaken, beaten, and deprived of love. Though I had gained the love of Patrick, gone were Mammy and Hattie, Jacob Thomas, Perry, and a daddy I’d once adored.
Betsy warmly hushed me and eased me out of my flood of sadness. “I have never seen two people as in love as you and Patrick. When you two are in the same room, no one can ignore it. Adam and I love one another very much. He is a kind, gentle man. But I don’t ever see the fervent passion in his eyes for me that Patrick casts upon you. He doesn’t come yearning for me every night. I must confess I am envious. I wish I had what you have - an adoring man and a beautiful baby.”
She patted me lightly on the hand. “This is a joyous day. I want you to wear this dress when you marry Patrick, and Adam and I would be honored to be there, beside you two as you exchange your vows.”
“Truly?” I asked in disbelief.
“Truly. I spoke in length with Adam, made him finally see that what you and Patrick share isn’t immoral lust but true, pure love, the kind of love that every man and woman dreams to share. I will be your matron of honor, and Adam will be Patrick’s best man,” she gave me a warm, sisterly hug. “If it is all right with you?”
“Of course it is,” I choked. “Thank you.”
“Now, let us go in your room and make sure the gown doesn’t need any adjustments. You might need the bodice let out an inch or two. Esther can take care of that.”
Together we giggled and genuinely laughed and carried on in good spirits all day. Betsy only lay down for a short nap after supper while I nursed Lillian, then returned to my room to style my hair.
I hadn’t seen Adam all day, and I wasn’t certain where Patrick was. Betsy revealed that after Adam’s day at the firm they planned to meet for a few drinks to celebrate the occasion.
I began to get restless as the evening came closer and the time for our rendezvous at the church grew near. Memories of my hasty marriage to Perry Montgomery left me ill with fear that something terrible would happen to Patrick. Betsy noticed my anxiety building as I paced back and forth in the parlor, staring worriedly at the clock.
“Amelia, you’re going to make a permanent path in the rug. Just relax. The baby is ready, all bundled up, and the carriage will be here in a moment to take us to the church. Patrick and Adam will be there,” she assured me.
Adam and Betsy were generous enough to have ordered me a fresh bouquet of flowers and their personal driver was to take us to the church.
Lillian was sleeping soundly when the carriage pulled up. Betsy lifted my baby into her arms and encouraged me.
“The time has come. Let’s hurry and make you Mrs. Patrick Garrett Arrington.”
To my relief, there stood my beloved Patrick beside Adam at the altar. Their eyes fixed on me as I walked up the aisle, my hands trembling, my heart racing. The altar was surrounded by dozens of lit candles, and to my wonder, a priest stood at the center, waiting for me.
“As a favor to Adam Higgins,” Betsy revealed in a whisper, then moved over and stood beside me.
It was a wedding made only in my dreams. The man I loved with every part of my being stood before me and vowed to love, honor, protect, and be mine until death do us part. Before God, we promised to be man and wife and serve Christ together. Through all of the uncertainties and trials of life, we committed to be faithful so that together we might grow in the likeness of Christ, and that our home should be dedicated to Him, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. We sealed our marriage with a tender kiss as the priest pronounced us Man and Wife, adding, “What God has created, let no man put asunder.”
Not long after, the man I now called only Garrett and I, along with our baby girl, Lillian, began our new life as we set out on a vessel toward the open sea to the secluded lighthouse that would be our home, where with the guidance of God, we would live free from the shadows of our riotous past and flourish in the natural love of days to come.
# # #
The Arrington saga continues with The Girl in the Lighthouse.
The Girl in the Lighthouse (book I)
Roxane Tepfer Sanford
second edition
Copyright ©2009/2011 Roxane Tepfer Sanford
www.thegirlinthelighthouse.com
The Girl in the Lighthouse is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and ret
rieval system, without permission in writing from both the copyright owner and the publisher.
The Arrington series
The Girl in the Lighthouse (2009)
All That is Beautiful (2010)
Sacred Intentions (2011)
For my husband Michael and our six children--Gabrielle, Myles, Douglas, Caroline, Harrison and Jack.
____________
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
____________
Chapter One
“There it is, Lillian. Come see,” Daddy called from where he stood on deck. I ran to him and jumped into his strong arms as the cool, salty breeze whipped my long, blond hair fiercely against my face. “Over there—just around the bend.”
I shielded my eyes from the intense sun that reflected off the gleaming sea, and that’s when I saw it. The giant, white, granite lighthouse tower stood twice as tall as our last one and sat in the center of the island, which to me, was almost the size of a small village.
“You will have your very own room,” Momma said to me as Daddy pulled her close against him.
Our first home was on a tiny island off the coast of Maine, nearly twenty miles out to sea; it was the only home I knew. Then Daddy’s orders came, and he was transferred to a new station on Jasper Island, where we would have our very own quarters, and to my delight, there was going to be an assistant keeper and his family. I had never had a friend before, and was excited to learn there would be children my own age to play with. And since the island was no more than five miles from the mainland, we would be able to venture out on weekly excursions.
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