Chapter 50
Up early since sleep had come in short spurts during the night, Edwina slipped out of the house as the sun was making its pronouncement of a beautiful spring day. The birds dipped and lifted on the winds as she walked away from the castle. She needed to think. Before she left she had to face Alex Dunnegin. Her conscience would not allow her to leave without doing so.
Her feet felt the green cushion of carpet, now very familiar. Off came her shoes in favor of letting her toes curl into the softness.
Words formed in her head, things she would say, then she would veto them. What could she say? She’d been neglectful. She hated the sound of it, but it was true. The child she had learned to love... dear Paige... and she had allowed her to be injured.
More than anything she wanted to see her one last time. Could she possibly?
She’d bungled things. “Face it, Edwina,” she admonished and turned toward the castle.
While still a long way off, she saw the black car snake up the long drive. She wanted to run, but stayed at her position.
Reardon parked in the circle right next to the entry, and Mr. Dunnegin got out. Alone.
Paige was still in the hospital. Oh she hoped all was well, then thought this might be a good time to see Paige one more time and explain she would be leaving. But without Mr. Dunnegin’s permission? She’d done enough damage already. If she had any grit, this was the time to use it.
Edwina slipped her feet into her shoes and purposely made her way up the hill to the castle.
The acceptance of Bertie and Reardon and her prayers to God, who loved her no matter what she’d done, drove her to knock at Mr. Dunnegin’s door. She laid her knuckles soundly against the wood and heard, “Enter.”
Her heart fell to the bottom of its cavity, and she righted it again with a sharp intake of a wobbly breath and stepped in.
He was on the phone and did not see who entered. He waved, his back turned to her. He was angry. He spoke short, quick responses to the caller.
She did not need to be in here and turned. “Miss Blair,” came the dreaded words. “Yes?” She turned and watched as he lay the phone in its place. Standing behind his desk, he said, “Sit down.” She did. He sat and ran his fingers through his hair tiredly. Edwina flinched when he looked her full in the eye.
“Mr. Dunnegin—”
“Miss Blair,” he interrupted. “My daughter is going to be all right.”
Visibly shaken, she didn’t know what to say. “Thank God,” came out.
His look softened for a moment.
“I am so sorry.” She talked to her lap.
He nodded and the phone rang, breaking the brittle atmosphere.
He picked it up, turned his chair, and soon stood and waved her off.
“We’ll talk later.”
Edwina felt her duty to Mr. Dunnegin finished. She’d faced him. What else could she say to him? Now it was time to pack her things at the manor and leave them to their lives.
An hour later, duly fed and appropriately admonished by Bertie for her decision to leave, Edwina asked Reardon if he might make the fourteen minute drive out to Beaufort Manor.
He hesitated for a moment and checked his watch. “If we hurry on.” And he was gone.
She and Bertie said their tearful good-byes. “Will ye be back, lass?” Edwina could not answer and shrugged, her eyes on Bertie’s. “Then Godspeed, child,” she said and put her arms around Edwina.
“Godspeed, Bertie,” she said, and before her fragile emotions broke again, she walked away. Reardon was waiting by the car and put her in. Exactly fourteen minutes later, she arrived at the manor.
The house was empty, the Gillespies at the hospital. Why was he at the castle anyway? He’d said she was going to be all right. Still, why wasn’t he with his daughter?
She’d settled in enough that packing was not as easy this time. And with all the gifts she’d bought for family, it took longer than expected.
Besides that, the house was as they’d left it that Sunday morning after breakfast. Paige’s schoolwork was on the desk. She’d made a picture of her teacher with long hair and blue eyes with outrageous eyelashes. The words “I love you” were printed at the bottom in perfect form.
Edwina held the paper to her breast and cried. Cried for Paige, for herself, for the loss of their relationship. It would never be the same again. Misery overwhelmed her spirit. Why had God sent her here? Why, if this was what happened? Had she made an error in coming?
There was only one answer, but when had she failed?
She picked up the pads that contained her story, all five of them, and tossed them into the trash can. It was only a reminder that perhaps life wasn’t as beautiful as Cinderella’s. It was more like the dreadful plays she’d witnessed on the stage in Chicago and recently, Edinburgh.
In the midst of her confusion, she heard the front door open. Wishing to see no one, she shut the office door and gathered her teacher tools into a bag.
She reached for her stapler, and the door swooshed open. Mr. Dunnegin stepped in and stopped frozen, his eyes scanning the room.
She looked where he was looking and gasped. They’d turned his office into their classroom, and it was chaos. Stacks of books formed separating walls for teacher and student. Paige’s papers sat stacked in several places on the lower near-empty bookshelves.
Edwina’s face colored brightly, and she tried to explain, “Sir, we turned this into the classroom. Paige wanted... to be near you, I think.” She could do nothing but shrug slightly.
“As I see.” He spoke cautiously, but looked very tired. His movements were slow and meaningful. “I need some papers. Do ye know where the things were on my desk?”
“Oh yes. Mrs. Gillespie put them all here.” She walked past him. “Here.”
He seemed relieved.
She finagled her way out of the corner and tried to straighten up the office. His head bowed over the papers with a look of deep concern, his forehead wrinkled in thought. What could possibly be so important? she wondered again.
Suddenly, he looked up from the papers and said, “I hear ye are going back to the States.”
“Um, yes. I thought you’d—”
“Don’t think for me, lass,” he interrupted harshly. Edwina could not open her mouth. “Sit down, lass. Tis time ye heard the whole story.” There was no place to sit. Paige’s conglomeration of books with her small chair atop was the only other spot. Both sets of eyes looked at the chair. Edwina’s eyes formed tears. Mr. Dunnegin just stared. “She sat up there?” The hint of a smile touched his lips.
“Yes. She could not abide lifting her arms so high to work on her papers.” Edwina relaxed.
“Did she learn well?”
“She is bright. And already knows her colors, letters, and numbers. She’s good at spelling, and her memory—she bypasses me in detail every day. I had to work hard to keep up with the lass. She . . .” She was running on. “I’m sorry.”
“She is bright. Like her mother.”
Edwina felt her lips lift, surprised she could find it in her to smile, as a bit of calm settled her raging emotions. “May I go and visit Paige before I leave?”
“I insist upon it,” he said and then added, “Leave the room as it is. I would like to speak with ye. Meet me in the sitting room. I’ll be there in a moment.”
She left the room feeling lighter of heart. At least they were talking, and he had said she could visit Paige.
“Oh Lord, thank you. Thank you for believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself,” she whispered.
Oh what a difference when the heart was heavy with sorrow—and when it was lifted up in hope.
But, her practical side cautioned, be careful not to hope for too much. He probably wishes to release me, for he is a kind man. She’d witnessed a few of his works of kindness, but they were also present in the loyalty of his staff and most of all, his daughter.
Edwina chose a chair near the fireplace. Several minutes passed. Sh
e could hear his voice on the telephone again. He sounded frustrated. When he finally did come, he looked distressed as he sat, elbows on knees, head hanging between his shoulders, his hair mussed.
“I have to go to the States. Tonight.”
“Why?” Edwina could not understand. “What about Paige? She needs you.”
“I know that.” He looked up, pain in his eyes. “Ye don’t think I know it?” His voice strained.
“Then stay with her.” Edwina was on her feet. “She only wants you. Her father. She needs no one else but you.” Her voice cracked.
“Sit down, Edwina,” Mr. Dunnegin commanded.
She had never heard her given name on his lips. Not once.
She sat.
“If I don’t go back now, I will lose my daughter,” he stated flatly.
Edwina’s eyes widened, but no words came.
“Say nothing, lass. I will tell you all, but you must give me your word not to speak of this to anyone.” He eyed her.
“Maybe I shouldn’t—”
His hand went up to stop her. “You are involved. And it is right you should know what is happening. Else . . .” Edwina’s nervous system shot into first gear. She felt like she was flying in a jet airplane with no protection. What did he mean involved?
“My wife’s name was Elizabeth Avril Halstead. She came from Beaufort, South Carolina. She loved to dance and was performing in a ballet here in Edinburgh when I met her.” His eyes softened.
“I called her Beth. We married against her father’s wish, and she suffered for it. He is the tobacco king of the Southern states and a very rich man. And a very vicious man. He expected Elizabeth, his only child, to take over his billion dollar business, and she refused. She married me, and then Paige was born. Four months after her birth, Beth went back to work. It was too soon. She . . .”
Edwina saw his throat working. She stared at her knee- caps and waited, the room full of oppressive emotions.
“She loved to dance. At rehearsal, she fainted and fell off the stage.”
Edwina’s hand went to her mouth to hold back a gasp. She wanted to get down on her knees at the man’s feet and comfort him like a child.
“Her father blamed me.” Edwina pressed her fingers to her lips. “Beth’s father never knew about Paige. And for three years it worked; we kept her existence a secret. But Mrs. Rudeski, whom we thought unaware of the dire situation, gave out information, and Beth’s father contacted his powerful attorneys. He has been trying to take her away from me and turn her into the business mogul his own daughter would not become. The trial, if you can call it that, is nothing but a pack of money hungry vultures looking for a place to land. And my daughter is their dinner.”
Edwina could not sit. She stood and paced the short distance behind her chair.
“Is that why you came to Chicago?”
“Yes. I needed powerful attorneys. Cecelia set me up with hers and several others. We have a good team, but it’s touch and go. The man has money, he has power, and he has his men working all sorts of under-the-table deals. When you called... about Paige’s accident—we were about to be called to testify against him.”
“I’m so sorry.” Edwina stopped pacing.
“It is unfortunate timing, but if I don’t go back . . .” The words hung in the air like a death sentence.
“Go back. I’ll stay here... if you’ll let me.”
“I need you to stay, Edwina. She needs you. She keeps calling for mommy. She said when she did, you answered so was it was all right to call you mommy.”
Tears formed in the handsome eyes, and Edwina wanted to throw herself at his feet and beg his forgiveness for everything that had happened.
“I told her she could call you mommy, as long as she remembered who mommy really was.” He looked up.
“Right.” She nodded her head and thoughts flew like wild birds in a cage. “Have you any pictures of Elizabeth and Page together?”
“Yes, but they are in the safe where no one would ever find them. We kept them hidden to keep Paige’s existence from her grandfather.”
“Well, now that it’s out could I... I mean, would you allow me to take pictures of her mother to her?”
“Of course,” he said and rose to his feet slowly. “I’ll get them.”
Edwina paced the entire room, stopping to gaze out the windows at the beautiful scenery. But she saw none of it, only knew that Paige’s life was about to be changed if some- thing wasn’t done. And she wasn’t about to let that happen.
He came back, the pictures in a small shoe box. He set it down on the side table and pushed his hands through his hair again.
“I need to get back tonight. Can ye go up and be with her? The Gillespies need to come home for a day. They’re worn to the edges.”
“Yes, I’ll go. Will you tell them it is okay?”
“They already know I came back for you.”
She nodded. “Then go. I’ll be here until you tell me to leave.”
“Not likely, lass.”
His voice was barely audible, but Edwina knew she had heard right.
Empowered by his words, she made a suggestion. “Might Reardon drop me off before he takes you to the airport?”
“That would work. My flight leaves at eight o’clock. I’ve got two hours and need to get some papers together. I do not plan on stopping to say good-bye to Paige. We already said them, and I don’t want to upset her further.”
“Sir—Mr. Dunnegin,” she remembered.
“Call me Alex, Edwina,” he stated, brooking no sass.
“All right. Does Paige know about her grandfather?”
“No, and I do not want her to know anything until it’s settled. I pray to God it works out. The man is trying to destroy my reputation as a father, and he could well do it since I travel so much, leaving Paige with others.”
Edwina bit her bottom lip. What to do? “I can testify for you,” she offered.
“They’d crush you in a minute,” he shot back. “You don’t know the kind of people, if you can call them that, that we’re dealing with. Best if you stay with my bairn and let me handle this. But thank you otherwise.”
Edwina nodded. “Have you eaten anything?”
“No.”
“I can put something together in the kitchen.”
“Yes. Do that. I can’t remember when I ate last, and I need to be at full brain power for these next few days.” She headed for the kitchen, her heels clicking on the wood floors. Her intent was to get the Scot on the road and vie for the child’s care until he could return and give it to her himself.
Edwina knew where Mr. Gillespie kept his vegetables. She chopped on the wooden board until she realized she was chopping the head off the man who called himself Paige’s grandfather.
She boiled a chicken in a large pot, added the overly chopped vegetables, and sliced the homemade bread. There was no meat for sandwiches, so she made grilled cheese on bread.
“Coffee?” she asked when Mr. Dunnegin appeared in the kitchen.
“Tea. Smells good.”
“Sit, I’ll get everything.” She clanged bowls onto the wooden table meant only for the kitchen help. No one cared to dine at the fancy table in the next room.
He sat at the old table, his suit jacket hanging over the back of the chair. He looked like death warmed over. She remembered the times she had been unsympathetic. Had she known... well it was too late now.
She ladled the soup into his bowl, laid a sandwich on a saucer, and pushed it toward him.
“Aren’t ye going to eat?”
“Sure, if you want me to . . .” He reached over and set the extra bowl in front of her, placed a sandwich on a saucer, and pushed it toward her. There had been a twinkle in his eye. Edwina smiled for the first time in days. “I am starved,” she admitted.
“Then eat,” he ordered.
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