“It’s the only way. Myrna said so.”
“Well, perhaps your sister’s husband can be persuaded to come and collect you by some other mode of transport.”
She tilted her head with its mop of brown ringlets. “Huh?”
Dalton grinned. “Your sister could contact the man she married to come here. Were you meeting him at your cousin’s?”
She covered her mouth and giggled. “Myrna’s not married to a husband.”
“Not married...?” His words trailed off in confusion. “Of course she must be. Your sister’s husband would become your family by marriage. Your brother-in-law.”
“I don’t have one of those, either.” The child glanced toward the door then back at Dalton. “I’m not supposed to tell,” she whispered nervously. “Myrna said I mustn’t tell a soul about our family. Ever. But you’re nice. Will she be angry with me for telling you?”
“Your sister’s nice, too,” Rebecca said. “She won’t be angry. Uncle Dalton can keep a secret.” She flashed him a warm smile and grabbed Sisi’s hand. “Come, there’s something else I want to show you!”
Standing motionless in shock, Dalton watched the girls hasten away in a flurry of hushed whispers and giggles.
After a time, he swiveled back to the window, clasping his hands behind him, his mind a chaotic whirlwind of thought, his heart a violent force of emotion. At the sudden knowledge that he was no longer alone, Dalton turned his attention to the entrance.
The object of his angry speculation wavered at the door.
“Ah, Mrs. McBride. How good to see you up and about. I trust you are feeling much improved?”
She hesitated at the threshold. “Yes. I’m looking for Sisi. A servant saw her come to the library.”
“She was here. My niece is giving her a tour of the manor.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
Before she could make a swift retreat, he stepped forward.
“Madam, a moment, if you would be so kind. I have a matter I wish to discuss.” He swept his hand to the side, motioning to one of two wingback chairs by the fire that blazed inside the hearth.
She glanced at the chair like a wary rabbit to a trap. “I should go find Sisi....”
“Please.” He struggled to maintain a polite demeanor. “This won’t wait. And close the door behind you. I have no wish for our conversation to be overheard.”
Cautiously she did as instructed and walked a wide circle around him to take a seat in the chair. Dalton regarded her with cold suspicion the entire time.
He had taken this woman into his home as a victim but now must consider the safety of his family, and evidently she’d been playing quite the masquerade! But to what purpose? Was she a felon wanted by the law? Or perhaps she had committed a crime of which no one knew?
The gloves of refined decorum were coming off. It was time for the truth, and she would not leave this room until he acquired answers.
He slowly moved to stand before her.
She looked up at him in undisguised alarm.
Chapter 4
Myrna warily observed her host. Despite the flash of suspicious determination in his steel-colored eyes, she resolved to remain calm in the mystery of his anger.
“Very well.” She spoke quietly and straightened her spine. “What is it you wish to discuss, Mr. Freed?”
He narrowed his eyes then walked over to the hearth and stared into its dancing flames, clasping his wrist behind him. “I spoke to your sister. She is terrified to resume your journey to your cousin’s by train. I suggest you send a telegram to your husband and explain matters, perhaps take an alternative mode of travel.”
Myrna clasped her hands more tightly in her lap at his mention of her cousin and the realization that Sisi told him of their plans.
“Yes, thank you, I’ll tend to that.”
He turned his head sharply to look at her. “You wish to send a telegram to your husband, then?”
Was that not the point of this conversation?
“Yes, if you would please see to it for me, I’ll compose the missive...” Her words faded as he again approached and stood before her, his manner intimidating.
“That might be difficult to execute,” he clipped, “since you have no husband.”
Oh, Sisi, what have you done?
“I do have a cousin.”
“And is he your husband?”
“No. But I fail to understand why my personal status should matter.”
She twirled her mother’s wedding ring around her finger. He caught her nervous act, his jaw set like stone. Grabbing the arms of her chair, he leaned down to her level. Myrna pushed herself back into the cushion in startled surprise. His eyes burned like flint.
“I have no interest in your personal status, Miss McBride, only that you lied.”
“I didn’t lie,” she countered with the same soft brusqueness. “Keeping the truth silent by omission is not a lie.”
His short laugh came without amusement. “And the token of gold circling your finger? What does that suggest, if not a lie?”
“Protection!”
“From whom?” he insisted.
She pressed her lips together. He scrutinized her up and down.
“Are you a thief?”
“Wha...” She blinked, caught off guard. “No, of course not!”
“And why should I believe you?” His gaze again lit on the ring. “Perhaps you’re wanted by the authorities for criminal activities. Are you using Eagle’s Landing as your hideaway?”
“You invited me to stay here while I recover!”
“While blind to the truth of your situation. Unaware of all the facts.”
Myrna had endured enough of his bullying. Indignant, she wrapped her hands around the chair arms, close to his, and pushed herself up to sit so that she was level with his eyes. He drew back a fraction in astonishment as she scorched him with her own fire.
“If you recall, I never wanted to come here after the accident. Believe what you will, but I’m a moral, decent woman, Mr. Freed.”
“Moral, decent women don’t fabricate a pretense to fool others.”
“They do if they wish to survive in this merciless world!” She curbed that thought, not wishing to speak to him of such things. “Can you truly blame me? You swept me away after I told you I wouldn’t go with you. I woke to find myself at your mercy.”
“I said I wouldn’t harm you.”
“And why should I have believed you? You’re nothing but a stranger. I couldn’t trust you, not after you whisked Sisi and me to your home without my permission and contrary to my wishes. I didn’t ask to come here.”
“Had I left you there, you might still be lying in a crude shelter awaiting medical care!”
The sound of giggling, instantly stifled, made them both turn their heads. The door stood open, both children having come to a sudden halt upon witnessing their quiet argument.
Her pitiless interrogator swiftly moved to stand, stepping away from her.
“Rebecca, what have you been told about closed doors and knocking to let anyone inside know that you wish to enter?”
“I’m sorry, Uncle Dalton.” Her remorse lasted only seconds before her face lit up. “I was showing Sisi the room the maids prepared for her.”
“Myrna, you must see,” Sisi exulted, both girls fluttering into the room. “It’s bigger than any room at the tenement. It has three long windows and a seat in a round wall to look outside. And the bed and curtains have tassels! Oh, come and see!”
Myrna could hardly refuse as Sisi clutched her arm and pulled, trying to hasten her progress. Not that she wished to remain. She welcomed any excuse to leave Dalton Freed’s surly company and gave him no further attention.
Myrna watched
the children hurry ahead, hand in hand, a new bounce to her sister’s steps. She regretted that Sisi could not always enjoy the benefits of living in such a household, with a playmate her age. But after the harrowing confrontation with its master, Myrna was even more determined to leave the moment she was well enough to do so.
They encountered Miss Browning coming downstairs. The housekeeper regarded Myrna as she might one of the children, had they been naughty.
“Mrs. McBride, the doctor said complete bed rest for one week.”
“I only came downstairs to find my sister.”
The housekeeper took Myrna by the arm and moved with her up the staircase. “And the mistress will have my head if she knew you were up and about.”
Resigned to obeying, though she felt fine, Myrna accompanied the husky older woman to the room she’d been given, and allowed herself to be tucked into the huge bed like a child. Once she left, Myrna asked Sisi to remain. Rebecca lingered, as if uncertain whether to stay or go.
“I’ll look at your room another day,” she promised Sisi. “Would you bring me a book? Be sure to knock on the door first.”
“What book?” Sisi looked overwhelmed with the task. “There’s so many.”
“Mama had a book she liked,” Rebecca said. “Do you want that one?”
“Yes, thank you.” At this point, she certainly wasn’t picky. “That sounds lovely.”
Over the next few days, Myrna regretted her answer.
* * *
The gripping novel by Currer Bell was different than anything she’d read, intriguing in a bizarre fashion. She could not help equate Thornfield Hall with Eagle’s Landing and the mysterious and dour Mr. Rochester to the character of her intractable host. With no company save for Sisi to share dinners with and the occasional servant to tend her, Myrna dwelled on her current predicament and noted disturbing similarities to the unfolding story of the hapless governess Jane Eyre. A work of fiction, yes, but the novel emphasized her own wretched station in life. While grateful for the Freeds’ kindness, she felt a burning need to leave before anything could happen.
Finally, her recovery was deemed complete. But when she visited the bedroom with the turret window to find Sisi, she discovered the chamber empty.
“Sisi?”
She peeked into adjacent rooms, their doors left open, all of them empty. Downstairs, a glance into the dining room and parlor showed no servants in sight. She didn’t feel comfortable searching the grand house, intruding where she had no consent, especially after he had called her a thief.
One room remained on the main level, and she hastened down its corridor, hoping to find Sisi there. At the closed doors, she hesitated, sensing that her absentminded sister would not have shut them. Fighting back the recollection of her last encounter within this deceptively cozy chamber, she took a steadying breath and knocked on the polished mahogany.
* * *
Dalton sat near the hearth fire and tried to make sense of the erratic scrawl that composed his brother’s notes. A tapping reached his ears, so faint, he first thought he imagined it. When the sound came again, he straightened and looked at the door. “Come,” he instructed, expecting Rebecca, though she was usually boisterous in her entrances.
To his surprise, Myrna approached then came to a stop, her attention flitting to the crackling fire and back to him as if recalling their last encounter there. He had issued a genial farewell to her earlier that morning, never expecting to see her again. Noting her agitation with how she twisted the ring she still foolishly wore, he grew alert, set his book down and rose to his feet.
“Is there a problem, Miss McBride?”
“I cannot find Sisi.”
He looked at the mantel clock. “Jonas should return from town within the hour. Your train doesn’t arrive till half past. There’s plenty of time.”
She didn’t look convinced. “Perhaps she’s with Rebecca?”
Since the two children had been practically joined at the hip upon Sisi’s arrival to Eagle’s Landing, Dalton deduced her assumption an accurate one.
“Please, if you don’t mind,” she continued, “will you ask a servant to help me search?”
Genuine worry filled her eyes. No matter how he felt with regard to her possible nefarious activities or feeble excuses for them, it unnerved him to see any woman approach a state of panic.
Crossing the distance between them, he noted her sudden wary expression.
“I’ll help you find her,” he said quietly.
Surprise then gratitude lit her eyes and she nodded.
A search of the lower floor yielded no results, save for the downstairs maid, Gladys, who he told to check the kitchen area. They retraced their steps to the main staircase and met Jonas exiting the foyer. Dalton reached for his pocket watch and flipped it open, the crack on the glass reminding him it was broken. He grimaced and slipped the useless item back in its pocket.
“Mr. Freed, Miss McBride.” Jonas nodded to each. “It’s soon time to leave for the depot, sir. Straight up on the hour.”
“Have you seen Rebecca or Sisi?” Dalton asked.
“No, sir. We only just returned.”
“And Mother?”
“She went to the conservatory. Said she wished to be alone.”
Dalton frowned, having just learned that morning of her friendship with one of the newly widowed victims of the train collision. A sensitive soul, his mother in all likelihood had been deeply affected by the woman’s pain, though knowing her, she would have only shown strength when she went to visit the poor soul. And although she hid it well, she was still mourning Roger’s death, in her own resilient way. His mother needed rest.
“Thank you, Jonas. If you would search the stables for the girls? Ask Charles to search the grounds.”
The man nodded and left.
“You don’t think they would have gone outside, in the snow?” Myrna followed him up the staircase.
“I rule nothing out. Rebecca hasn’t visited the stables in weeks, but that was before your sister arrived. She might wish to show off her new pony. If we find Sisi within the next fifteen minutes, there will still be time to get you to the station.” Recalling the disastrous images of fire and broken, twisted metal as far as the eye could see, he was surprised it had taken workers only a week to clear the tracks.
Together they swept the second landing. With one room left, Dalton hesitated, his hand at the knob.
“If they’re not in here, they’re not on this floor.”
“The third floor, perhaps?”
“We no longer use that floor, save for storage.”
Myrna withheld a challenging reply that such a forbidden locale might be the first place wayward children would go. He gently cupped her shoulder, and she looked up in startled question. His eyes no longer seemed hard like metal but glistened softly, inviting her trust.
“Do not be troubled. We will find your sister.”
She nodded faintly, and he opened the door.
Clearly the family no longer used this room, either. White dust cloths shrouded furniture, with the bed the only item naked to the eye and stripped of all linens, leaving a bare mattress.
Dalton remained on the threshold. A pained expression crossed his features, his mouth taut as he glanced about the bedchamber. Myrna noticed the pattern on the faded, papered walls bore little blue cornflowers.
“Did this room belong to Rebecca’s mother?” The curious words slipped out before she could hinder them.
“No.” He narrowed his eyes at a corner of the room. “There.”
At his low instruction, Myrna looked to see a sheet that appeared to cover a small table. In the stillness of the room the cloth fluttered slightly, as though stirred by a nervous foot.
Dalton covered the area in several rapid strides and
whipped the dust cloth away. Both girls shrieked. Myrna hurried up beside him, bending to see. Sisi and Rebecca sat huddled beneath a small desk, in its cubbyhole, their arms wrapped around each other. Both girls shrank closer to the wall.
“Uncle Dalton, you’re suppose’ to knock before entering a room,” Rebecca petulantly chided.
“You’re in enough trouble, young lady, without correcting your elders,” he said sternly. “Come out from there at once. You know you’re not allowed in this room!”
“Sisi, that goes for you, too,” Myrna added.
“I don’t wanna go!” Tears trembled in Sisi’s voice. “Don’t ever wanna ride a train again. Please don’t make me, Myrna!” She buried her face against Rebecca’s shoulder and sobbed. “I like it here....”
“We cannot stay.” Myrna calmed her tone upon seeing how upset Sisi truly was. “Come now, enough of this. Our cousin is expecting us.”
“No!” Sisi insisted. “I won’t go!”
Myrna blinked, uncertain how to respond. Sisi misbehaved at times, usually to become quickly reconciled. Never did she act out with such rebellion and emphatic desperation. Dalton showed no similar hesitance as he grabbed his niece by the ankles and pulled.
“No—Uncle Dalton—don’t!”
Her pleas met deaf ears as he hauled the girl to her feet.
“Go to your room, Rebecca. Now,” he added, pointing to the door when she hesitated.
She looked from Sisi to Dalton, undecided, then scurried from the room. Sisi drew into a tight ball, shrinking farther away, her teary eyes full of mistrust. Dalton looked at Myrna in question, silently asking permission to retrieve her as he’d done with his niece. Myrna shook her head no.
“Sisi,” she tried again, keeping her voice soft. “You cannot stay under that desk forever.”
“If I come out, you’ll make me go on the train,” Sisi whimpered.
“It’s too late for that now.” Even without consulting her father’s pocket watch, Myrna knew more than fifteen minutes had elapsed since they spoke to Jonas.
“Promise? I don’t have to ride the train?”
Myrna sighed. “You don’t have to ride the train tonight.” She held out her hand. “Come now, Sisi. We mustn’t bother Mr. Freed any longer, and you shouldn’t be sitting on that cold floor. You’re fortunate you didn’t get deathly ill when you stood in the snow without your coat....”
Governess's Dilemma (9781460320600) Page 4