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When Hannah saw Reiver’s intention, she screamed his name and lunged forward, but Samuel restrained her. Together they watched in horror as Reiver dived into the black, freezing water to save his children.
Hannah stood there, her hand pressed to her mouth to keep from screaming.
She saw three dark heads bobbing like balls in the water, and two men stretched out on the ice to distribute their weight evenly and keep from crashing through themselves, their arms extended. One of them was James.
Please God, let them be safe, Hannah prayed. I’ll do anything you ask. Anything.
One of the men caught someone and pulled him onto the ice, which was cracking ominously under the additional weight.
“Benjamin!” Hannah cried. “Dear God, he’s safe!”
One of the skaters rushed out with a lap rug and wrapped it around the drenched, shivering Benjamin, leading him back to safety. Though she wanted to go to her son, Hannah couldn’t tear her eyes away from the life-and-death drama unfolding on the edge of the ice. Lizzie and Reiver were still in the water, and it looked as though Reiver was keeping her afloat.
Suddenly both men grabbed another bobbing figure and hauled it out of an icy grave. Another rescuer wrapped little Lizzie in a blanket and carried her over to Hannah.
“Lizzie, dear God, oh, my baby…” The child was soaked and shuddering, her lips tinged with blue and teeth chattering, but her dazed eyes were half-open and she was alive. Tears streaming down her cheeks, Hannah kissed her on the forehead. “We’ve got to get her warm before she freezes to death.”
Then Hannah looked for Reiver, but he was nowhere to be found.
She searched the place where the men had rescued Benjamin and Lizzie, waiting for the third survivor. All she saw was James and the other man making their way slowly back over the ice.
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One look at Samuel’s stricken face and she knew.
“No!” she screamed.
Shivering James, his clothes wet and half-frozen, and cheeks stained with tears, stood before her. “I’m sorry, Hannah,” he said through chattering teeth.
His voice broke. “I almost had him, but he was in the water too long and he just gave out. He couldn’t reach me before—before the current took him.” He broke down sobbing.
Later, when they were all back safe and warm at the main house, Hannah asked James if Reiver had uttered any last words before the current took him.
Still dazed, he replied, “Just one word. Cecelia.”
Hannah just smiled through her tears, for Reiver had finally set her free.
Rummy Shaw’s eldest son departed this Earth in a style more befitting a king than the son of a no-account drunkard. Those same citizens of Coldwater who had jeered at the father came to pay their respects to his son, along with dignitaries from Hartford and New York.
If anyone heard Reiver Shaw’s widow’s amused bubble of ironic laughter behind her thick mourning veil, they attributed it to hysteria and bowed their heads in prayer.
“Benjamin, it wasn’t your fault.”
A week after Reiver’s lavish funeral, a black-clad Hannah stood in the parlor trying to console her son. Benjamin sat slumped on the settee, as gray-faced and red-eyed as Hannah’s doctor father whenever he lost a patient.
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“It is my fault,” Ben moaned, holding his head in his hands. “I shouldn’t have skated out so far with Lizzie. She could have drowned like Abigail, and Father is dead!”
Standing by the warm fireplace, Hannah shivered. How could she have forgotten that Abigail had died because her brothers were watching a rabbit hole instead of her? Now Ben blamed his father’s death on his carelessness.
Hannah walked over to the settee and stared down at him sternly. “Now, you listen to me, Benjamin Shaw. You were only a little boy when Abigail died, and you were not responsible. And as for last Sunday, several of the men at the pond said that the spot you were skating on should have held. Anyone could have fallen in.”
Fresh tears streamed down his face. “Why did Father have to try to save us?
Why didn’t he let somebody younger and stronger—”
“Son, listen to me.” Hannah knelt down and grasped his hands. “Your father tried to save you and your cousin—”
“You don’t have to lie anymore, Mother.” Ben pulled his hands away and leaned back. “I know Lizzie’s my half-sister. While Father and I were in Japan, he told me that she is his daughter.”
What else did he tell you? Hannah wondered as she rose. That Samuel and I were lovers? That I took Shaw Silks in exchange for raising his daughter?
“We can discuss that later,” she said. “What I’ve got to make you understand is that in spite of his faults, your father loved his family very much. He could no more stand by helplessly than he could stop loving you.
“Son, I don’t know why the Good Lord chose to take your father from us. As painful as it is, we have to accept it because nothing is going to bring him back to us.”
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Ben flung himself off the settee. “I’ll never accept it! Never!” Before Hannah could stop him, he stormed out of the parlor and out the front door, letting in a blast of frigid air before slamming the door behind him.
Alone in the silence, Hannah rubbed her aching forehead.
“Mama?”
She turned to see Davey standing in the parlor entrance, looking somber and haggard in his mourning clothes. “Are you all right?” he asked. “Can I get you anything? A glass of sherry or a cup of tea?”
She smiled wanly and extended her hand to her younger son, who had surprised her with his strength and compassion during this sad time. “I’m fine, really, and I’ve had enough tea to last me a lifetime.” She looked at the front door. “I’m afraid Ben has been taking your father’s death especially hard.”
Davey shrugged. “I’m not surprised. He and Papa were always close.”
“Your father loved you, David,” Hannah said. “You mustn’t think that he didn’t.”
“I just wish he had told me.”
Hannah hugged her son, also wishing he were a little boy again. She indicated that he should join her on the settee. “Your father was a complex, difficult man. There were times when I loved him, and times I hated him.”
Davey raised his brows. “You hated Father?”
“Sometimes. Do you think me terrible for saying it?”
“No. There were times when I hated him, too.” He grinned. “And Ben.”
Then he became serious. “Perhaps I should go after him and see if I can help.”
“No, I think he needs to be alone.”
But Hannah needed company.
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Samuel’s papers cluttered the homestead’s dining room table, but he was not there working on them.
“Samuel?” Hannah called from the foot of the stairs.
“I’m up here,” a faint voice called back, “in the studio.”
Hannah found him standing before the window that looked toward the main house, the weak winter light playing up the bleakness in his pale eyes.
“I can’t believe he’s gone,” he said, not looking at her.
“Neither can I.” Hannah rubbed her arms. “Isn’t it ironic that Reiver died the same way as Abigail?”
He stared straight ahead. “The daughter he could never love.”
“I like to think that he redeemed himself by saving Lizzie.”
“Perhaps that’s why he went in after her.”
“He had to. She was his daughter.”
Samuel turned. “And how are you, Hannah? With the funeral, and people surrounding you
every waking minute, I haven’t had a chance to be alone with you.”
Hannah crossed her arms. “I’m still numb inside from the shock. Reiver and I may have had a stormy marriage, but now that he’s dead, I find that I miss him.” She smiled wanly. “Odd, isn’t it?”
“No, not at all.” Samuel stood there quietly for a moment. “Reiver’s death is going to cause so much change in your life.”
“It’s still too soon for me to even think about it.”
His pale eyes regarded her somberly. “Do you know what my first thought was this morning? That now you and I are finally free to be together. Then this terrible feeling of guilt overpowered me, and I wept for my brother.”
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Hannah went to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve had the same thoughts, but it’s still too soon. We have to finish grieving for Reiver before we can start thinking about spending the rest of our lives together.”
Samuel hugged her. “You’re right.” Then he extended his arm and escorted her out of the studio. “I think the time is right for me to go to Washington and make another bid for a higher tariff.”
The mill…how it eased her pain and fortified her.
“But there’s a war going on.”
Samuel’s eyes shone. “Exactly. The government needs money desperately to pay for it. Well, we manufacturers are going to tell the government that we can’t afford to pay unless we receive protection from foreign competition in the form of war duties.”
The mill is getting into his blood, too, Hannah thought.
When they reached the dining room, Samuel searched through his papers.
“You’ve heard of the Cobden Treaty?”
“That was the treaty enacted last year allowing French silks to be sold in England duty-free.”
He nodded. “Mark my words, that treaty sounded the death knell for the English silk industry, but it’s only going to help us.” Samuel stuck his hand in his pocket. “You’re going to see an influx of skilled English weavers into this country, and when those English manufacturers fail, don’t be surprised to see their machinery on the market.”
Hannah caught his excitement. “We would be able to buy ready-made looms to make silk cloth and jacquards.”
“For a very low price.”
“When do you leave for Washington?”
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“Tomorrow.” Samuel hesitated. “I feel odd going so soon after Reiver’s death. It seems disrespectful somehow.”
Hannah shook her head. “Reiver wanted this tariff as much as you do. You must go.”
Two weeks after Samuel’s departure, Hannah was in the study doing accounts when Benjamin appeared in the doorway.
“Mother, I have to speak with you.” With his head lowered belligerently in imitation of his father, Benjamin strode into the study, closed the door behind him, and stood facing Hannah with his hands clasped behind his back.
Hannah put down her pen. “What is it?”
“I want you to give me the controlling interest in Shaw Silks.”
Dumbfounded, Hannah stared at him.
Benjamin’s blue eyes flashed with anger. “Father told me how you tricked him out of the company.”
Hannah tried to maintain her composure, but she couldn’t control her trembling hands. “I did not trick your father out of anything. We made a bargain fair and square.”
“You call that a bargain, Mother? That was no bargain. You swindled him!”
Shaking with fury, Hannah rose. “Don’t you ever raise your voice to me, Benjamin Shaw! Your father had an illegitimate daughter by his longtime mistress, and then he expected me to raise that child as if she were my own.”
“Any man would. She was his daughter. A good wife would have done anything to please her husband without asking anything in return.”
“You know nothing about it, so don’t presume to judge me.”
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Benjamin placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “All I know is that Father was stunned you could take advantage of his weakness to gain control of his company. His company, Mother!”
“And what about me? Did your father concern himself with how I would feel, forced to raise his mistress’s child?”
He stood back and dismissed her with, “You love Lizzie, so why would it matter?”
Hannah took several deep breaths. “It’s pointless arguing with you, Benjamin, since you’ve already taken your father’s side and refuse to consider my point of view.”
“Father would have wanted me to have the company. I’m his eldest son, and he taught me a great deal about silk manufacturing when we went to the Orient together.”
“You’re still very young.”
“I’m twenty!”
“Your father was twenty-five when he started the company.”
Ben glared at her. “You’re a woman. Women don’t run silk mills.”
“Well, this woman does, and quite capably despite the handicaps of my sex.”
Which were mostly ignorant men.
He clenched his hands into fists. “I want my birthright, Mother. Are you going to give it to me, or not?”
“No. You’re too young and you don’t know enough about this company to do your father’s memory justice.”
“Then I’m enlisting in the army.”
Hannah’s heart gave a sickening lurch, and she stared at him, stunned. “The army?”
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“If you’re going to cheat me out of what’s rightfully mine, I may as well seek a military career.”
Hannah thought of poor Artemus blown to pieces by cannon fire at Bull Run, and her blood ran cold, but when she saw her son’s sly, expectant look, she realized he was probably bluffing.
“Do what you must, Benjamin,” she said.
He glared at her before turning on his heel and storming out of the study, leaving Hannah staring at the open door.
Later, when her thoughts returned to some semblance of order, Hannah realized that Benjamin hadn’t said anything about her affair with his uncle Samuel. If he had known, he certainly would have thrown it in her face.
Reiver must never have told him.
Blackmail. Hannah’s son was blackmailing her. If she didn’t agree to turn over controlling interest in the company to him, he would enlist in the army and risk death.
Several days after Benjamin delivered his ultimatum, Hannah bundled herself up and walked over to the mill, where she stood until her feet were so cold, she thought she might get frostbite.
He was her son. She had a mother’s responsibility to keep him safe. And why shouldn’t he have his birthright? Reiver intended for his sons to have Shaw Silks one day.
Yet the company was part of Hannah, too. She had made it what it was today just as much as Reiver had. People depended on her for their livelihoods and she had a responsibility to provide them with decent working and living 412
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conditions. Why should she turn it over to Benjamin just because he wanted it, like some toy he insisted on having?
Hannah prayed Benjamin’s childish threat was nothing more than a bluff to pressure her. If it wasn’t, she would lose her son forever.
Two days later Hannah made her decision.
She couldn’t risk losing Benjamin. Despite her reservations, she would agree to turn over controlling interest in Shaw Silks.
She was leaving the study to find him when the front door suddenly opened, and Samuel walked in.
Just one look at his face told Hannah all she needed to know. Grinning, she ran down the hallway into his open arms. “We won!”
He swung her around and around. “We got it.” He set her down. “Do y
ou know what this means, Hannah? We can make silk cloth to rival the best of France and Italy. We can make American silk manufacturers the envy of the world!”
Hannah hugged him again. “Congratulations, Sam. This is wonderful news.”
It didn’t make her decision any easier.
After Samuel left, Hannah called Benjamin into the study.
“Well, Mother?” he demanded, flopping down on the settee with studied insolence. “Are you going to choose the mill, or me?”
Hannah folded her hands on her desk. “Before we discuss my decision, there’s something else I have to tell you.” And she told Benjamin all about his uncle’s efforts to have the import duty raised. “Do you know the ramifications of this legislation?”
Benjamin shrugged, his boredom evident. “We’ll make more money.”
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Hannah rose. “Yes, we’ll make more money, but you don’t know how, do you? Or why? Your father would have known, and so do I.” She smiled sadly. “I must admit that in a moment of weakness, I considered giving in to your demands, but I decided against it. You’re too inexperienced.”
He turned livid, his scar standing out in an angry slash across his cheek, and he jumped to his feet. “You selfish—”
“Bitch?” his mother finished for him. Hannah raised her head proudly. “Yes, Benjamin, this time I am going to be a selfish bitch. I’m going to do what I want, not what someone else expects me to do. I married your father because my uncle wanted me to, but I am going to keep control of Shaw Silks because I want to. I know I can make it the success Reiver dreamed of.”
“Fine,” he snapped, “keep your precious company. I’m leaving tomorrow to enlist, and when I die, it will be your fault!”
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