So why in blazes was she doing this?
His laugh came without amusement upon realizing he had acted with the same impulsiveness that less than twenty-four hours ago he assured Giselle both were capable of. At least some good had come from the debacle they created, the walls of artifice finally destroyed. They might never regain their friendship to the degree it was, but the angry bitterness had dissolved. Now the only emotion left was the empty ache inside his heart at losing Myrna.
Perhaps he shouldn’t have kissed her. But she had kissed him back, so she must feel something. Or was he seeing only what he wished to? Had Dalton been forcing his affections on her rather than attempting to bring her to the knowledge of her feelings for him? The possibility stung. Maybe she truly did wish to go with her cousin. Other than Sisi, Jeremy was the only family she had left.
But the gift of the pocket watch told him a different story, as had the windows of her eyes when she’d put it into his hand, and he looked at the treasured item he still held by its chain. It was of value in more ways than worth. Instead of giving it to the man who made his living with timepieces and would consider it an honor to receive the family heirloom, she’d given it to Dalton, who considered it no less an honor. He brushed his thumb over the engraved disc, flipped it open, and faintly smiled to see its working face.
The door burst open. He shot to his feet as Myrna hurried inside.
“I cannot find Sisi!” She released the words in a rush of panic. “Rebecca doesn’t know where she is. No one does.”
He covered the distance and clasped her shoulders in reassurance. “She’s done this before, yes?” He kept his tone light. “We’ll find her.”
She nodded, her eyes no less worried but now hopeful.
They left the conservatory. Finding Genevieve in the corridor, he instructed, “Spread the word to the servants to search the house for Sisi. Tell Jonas and Charles to search the grounds and stables.”
“Aye, Mr. Freed.”
She hurried off and Dalton swiftly continued to the library, Myrna beside him. They encountered her cousin along the way.
“Sisi is missing,” Myrna greeted.
Jeremy frowned. “She’s only being defiant. She’ll turn up soon.”
“I feel it’s more. Could she have learned we were leaving? Did you tell her?”
Dalton directed a sharp glance her way as a memory returned. “The girls were eavesdropping on the party. They might have heard me speak to Giselle. I told her of your plans to leave.”
He wondered if he imagined the flash of jealous hurt in her eyes at mention of his ex-fiancée.
“That must be it, then,” Myrna said. “She’s hiding.”
“I hope the girl isn’t always this much trouble,” Jeremy grumbled as they continued down the corridor. “Can’t have her disturbing customers in my shop with her silly games.”
Myrna frowned. “Exactly what will Sisi do there?”
“Don’t trust children around my clocks. Children break things. She’ll stay above in the room, where we’ll live.”
“And what of her education?”
“You can teach her if you like. Isn’t that what you’ve been doing?”
“What about fresh air?” Myrna insisted. “A place for her to play?”
“You lived in the city. You know how it is. In the business district where I live, the streets are narrow, the buildings close, but she’ll make do, as other children have.”
Dalton barely refrained from replying, disgusted to hear of such an undesirable future mapped out for the child. Myrna took a stand against bad conditions for the workers in factories and mills. Could she not see that the future described for her little sister held bleak similarities?
An hour of searching produced no sign of the girl. Worry escalated into fear as Myrna clutched Dalton’s sleeve like a lifeline. Jeremy had long ago quit the search, with the excuse that they had plenty of help, would find her soon enough, and he and Myrna had an early train to catch, adding that he certainly had no time to pander to Sisi’s nonsense.
“Rebecca,” Dalton said to his niece as he caught sight of her in the moment she made as if to hurry away upon noticing them.
“Yes, Uncle Dalton?”
He wasn’t tricked by her apparent cooperation and regarded her sternly. “If you know anything about Sisi’s disappearance you must tell me.”
She pouted. “She doesn’t want to go, and I don’t want her to. She’s my friend.”
Dalton shared a look of relief with Myrna then again turned his attention to his errant niece. “Did you hide her like last time?” When she stubbornly pressed her lips together, he insisted, “Answer me!”
“You’ll make her go away on the train.” Rebecca’s lip trembled. “She hates trains. She’s scared of them.”
Myrna bent down to her level. “I love Sisi and only want what’s best for her. Please, Rebecca, tell me where she is. I’ve been so worried.”
“Rebecca...”
Dalton’s warning tone served to deflate the girl’s bravado. “You weren’t supposed to know she was gone till tomorrow, after the train went away. And then you would stay. Like last time.”
“Where is she?” Dalton’s tone lost its tension but remained firm.
“In the locked room.” Rebecca pulled a key from her dress and handed it to him.
“You locked her in the old playroom?”
Rebecca nodded.
Dalton felt a chill brush over his soul. He hurried to the third floor, Myrna and Rebecca in his wake.
Upon unlocking and opening the door, he found the playroom empty.
“Sisi?” Myrna called but received no reply.
Dalton’s gaze flew to the window, his actions taking him there as with trembling hands he pulled back the heavy drape. The pane was locked.
“Where is she?” he asked Rebecca.
“I don’t know,” she said, looking as puzzled as he felt.
Dalton scanned the room, his attention falling on the old wardrobe against the wall. His heart lurched in dread.
“Sisi,” he called, hurrying to the huge article of furniture. He tried the door. It wouldn’t budge. The tricky latch had again slipped as had often been the case when he was a boy. Looking around the room, he motioned to a heavy block of wood carved into a toy wagon that sat near Myrna.
“Give me that.”
With wide eyes, she did as ordered. He struck the handle with the wood three times, at last breaking through. The door swung open. Myrna gasped in horror, and dread clutched Dalton’s heart at the sight of the wan child lying insensible and half-hidden in a pile of old coats.
Carefully, much as he had done on the train months before, he pulled Sisi from her hiding place. She did not stir. Her face felt clammy, her hair damp and clinging to her perspiring skin. To his relief, she still breathed, but it came reedy and faint.
“Is she all right?” Rebecca asked, her voice wobbly with fear. “Why won’t she wake up?”
Myrna’s terrified eyes asked the same question.
He wished he could again offer reassurance but felt none to give. Rising to his feet, he held the limp child carefully in his arms. “We must send Jonas for the doctor.”
Chapter 15
The next hours were a blur for Myrna. Once Dalton carried Sisi to her bedroom, they were able to revive her with a wet cloth, but she still lay so very weak, and her heartfelt whisper, “Please don’t make me go,” tore at Myrna’s heart. Within the hour the doctor arrived, his prognosis not severe but not inspiring. After Myrna answered questions with regard to Sisi’s medical history, he grimly ordered that the girl have complete bed rest the following day and to send for him if her condition worsened.
Myrna had never drawn closer to the Lord as she did that night, while sitting
by her sister’s bedside and holding her limp hand as Sisi lay in deep slumber. Her faith had broadened to reach out for Divine guidance, but her shame intensified to acknowledge her ineptitude.
Hearing a step on the threshold, she turned to look.
“I did this to her,” she whispered, guilt ready to consume her.
Dalton approached and crouched beside her chair, clutching one arm of it. “You can’t think like that. You’re not to blame.”
“Who else?” Tears trembled at the edges of her lashes and slid down her cheeks as she closed her eyes. “She fears trains so much, but I wouldn’t listen. Thinking she would get over it. Thinking I knew what was best. Thinking I could always keep her safe. She almost suffocated because of me! I almost killed my baby sister.” She let out a soft, strangled sob. “And she’s not out of the woods yet. She’s never been strong, we almost lost her as a babe. She always succumbed to illnesses first, taking the longest to recover—”
Myrna’s words came to an abrupt halt at the warm brush of Dalton’s thumb against her cheek, wiping away her tears, his fingertips lightly resting against her ear. She opened her eyes to look at him.
“May I tell you a story?” he asked, gentleness and sorrow softening his expression.
She nodded.
With no other chair in the room, he moved to sit on the floor, his back against the bed, the soles of his shoes planted on the rug. He clasped one hand around his wrist tightly, placing them atop his bent knees.
“I’ve told you about Alyssa,” he began, “but I never spoke of the day she died. I was nine. She was seven.”
Myrna held her breath, afraid to say a word, afraid that he wouldn’t continue if she did. She had long wondered about what happened but never wished to stir up old pain.
“We were much closer in age than Roger and I, and Alyssa followed me everywhere. Like a shadow.” A sad smile touched his lips. “Sometimes I didn’t mind, we were playmates, but as I grew older, I desired time to myself. In the locked playroom, there’s a window...” His eyes fell shut as if unable to face what came next. “I was like every boy, full of adventure. That day, I decided it would be exciting to walk across the narrow ledge that borders that side of the manor to the turret window. Several steps across, I heard a noise and looked over my shoulder. Alyssa was on the ledge.”
Fresh tears stung Myrna’s eyes as she suddenly knew what he would say.
“I remember as if it were yesterday. I ordered her back to the playroom, saying that little girls shouldn’t climb high places, and continued walking. She insisted that if I could do it, so could she. I told her if she didn’t stop following me I would jump off the edge and fly away. She insisted she would do the same and I couldn’t get rid of her. I argued that I could and was about to tell her that girls couldn’t fly, that I was a pirate walking a plank and she couldn’t be one, too, when I heard it. The most awful sound, I’ll never forget it. Her gasp, the rustle of cloth, a yelp of fear—then nothing. I swung my head around to look, but she wasn’t there. Then I saw her. Below. Lying so still in the grass, like a broken doll...”
His cheeks glistened with tears. Unable to refrain, Myrna reached out and brushed them away, as he’d done for her. Without opening his eyes, he grabbed her hand and pressed her fingertips to his lips hard. She inhaled a soft breath at the little shock of warmth that rushed through her at his unexpected act.
“I’m not sure how I got off that ledge without also falling. I don’t remember much that happened afterward, I think I must have been in a state of shock. Mother never audibly blamed me, but she’s not forgotten. I sometimes still hear her rocking in the playroom late in the night. The chair creaks and makes the sound of a weeping child, covering any sound as she also weeps. She thinks I don’t know. Alyssa’s death caused a rift between my parents that took a long time to heal. Father remained cold toward me, and that’s why I believe he never taught me the family business. I wasn’t a worthy son. Alyssa was always his favorite.”
“Dalton, you’re not to blame for what happened,” Myrna hastened to assure, hearing the self-censure in his tone.
He looked at her then, his eyes steady. “No more than you are to blame for what happened to Sisi.”
She drew a harsh breath, understanding why he’d chosen this moment to confide in her.
“That’s different. I’m a grown woman. You were a child.”
“We all make mistakes based on bad choices we think are suitable at the time. I no longer blame myself, though the memory of that day is still difficult to face, like Sisi fears trains and hides herself away from the prospect of boarding one. My mother put the lock on the playroom door for my benefit. But a time comes when locks need to be broken. When the past can suffocate the present and make it hard, if not impossible to move on.”
His quiet words reached deep into Myrna’s soul, shaking the foundation of all she’d been taught to survive. She had secured her own locks to hide away from all that her family had suffered. Perhaps it was the lateness of the hour, the atmosphere conducive to intimacy and baring secrets...perhaps it was the trust that Dalton placed in her by speaking of his troubled past, which she felt certain was rare...
But suddenly she wanted him to know the truth.
She glanced at the bed to make sure that Sisi was still sound asleep. “When I was very young,” she said above a whisper, a slight waver giving away her nervousness, “after my father had the accident and could no longer find work, my mother secured a position as companion to a wealthy but demanding woman she had known since childhood. I told you that weeks ago.” She often had wondered if the dowager’s son had orchestrated the arrangement.
He nodded, and with shame she briefly told of her mother’s indiscretions, and how Sisi was the product of them. She spoke of how scandal visited the family, how she’d seen the illicit kiss, how her father had awakened her late one night, after having been accused of stealing an heirloom piece of the dowager’s jewelry—though to this day Myrna felt that her principled father had been set up by the dowager’s son—and how they fled into a life of near poverty. She tensed as she came to her part of the story and realized with some surprise that despite her tainted confession, he had not let go of her hand. The knowledge gave her the courage to continue and face her own monsters.
“After Father died I was excited to find work at the new library. My love of literature made me a worthy aide, and I was content there for months. Then an older gentleman entered one afternoon and visited every day for a week—Mr. Parker, a wealthy, influential merchant who I learned had lived in the town where I grew up. He recognized me, since I favor my mother. He was kind the first several days, drawing me into conversations with him, and I thought him a gentleman. Then one evening he cornered me while I was shelving books.” Her face burned with embarrassment to whisper the next words. “He wanted me to—to be his mistress. He told me he would make my life one of ease, that I never had to work another day, but I refused. He threatened that if I didn’t comply he would tell my manager of the old scandal, of my mother’s sins and my father’s alleged theft. I begged him not to speak of it, but he refused to listen. He gave me one day to decide then left, but of course I could never do such a thing. So he did as he’d warned, also lying that I was a thief, and I was discharged.
“Later, he approached me again, thinking that with no income I would become agreeable to his proposition, and offered to set me up in an apartment. No matter how much I refused, he wouldn’t leave me be, and I feared that one day he wouldn’t take no for an answer. So I took Sisi and fled to another town. I found work sewing. Later, a job as a laundress. When Sisi grew ill, I stayed home to take care of her and lost that position, too. That’s when I wrote my cousin. I pawned Mother’s jewelry to cover my debts and the train tickets—except for this. And I kept Papa’s watch.”
She fingered the wedding ring she still wore, for no other
purpose except she had no place safe to put it. Her venture into trust had not yet extended to the household staff, to leave it just sitting out in her bedchamber.
“That explains so much,” he said quietly.
Throughout the grim recounting she had kept her eyes on her sister but now looked at him.
“Meaning?”
“Your behavior when you first arrived. Why you didn’t wish to come home with me, when I first found you.”
He made it sound intimate, and she lowered her gaze, her cheeks warming.
“Myrna, as I’ve said many times, I would never harm you. Please tell me you believe that now.”
She nodded without hesitation.
“And I’m sorry if I only added to your difficult circumstances.”
She looked at him in confusion.
“My behavior in the conservatory,” he clarified. “I shouldn’t have forced my attentions on you, giving you further cause for distress. I should have honored your decision. My actions were reprehensible.”
Disappointment that he apologized for a token of affection that meant a great deal to her made it difficult to reply. “You’ve done nothing worthy of forgiveness. I didn’t exactly pull away.”
His eyes flicked up to hers, alert.
Realizing that once again she had revealed too much, she felt a new flush of warmth.
“Myrna...”
“Uncle Dalton?”
At the sound of Rebecca’s voice, both of them swung their attention to the entrance. His niece stood there in her long ruffled bed gown, fear inscribed on every feature.
“Is she going to die?” Rebecca whispered, her voice trembling, and Myrna flinched at the words. “We weren’t trying to be naughty. We wanted to save her from the wolf, like the huntsman saved Little Red Cap.”
The wolf?
Myrna recalled her little sister’s remarks the day of their cousin’s arrival.
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