“You mean to tell me he's been locked up in that study all day?” Ioan stopped in the hall to light his cigar. It was the first time he looked at Cora. He exhaled the smoke in her direction, not caring that he did. Cora waited, but he said nothing. “Can I get you something, sir?” she asked. He turned back into his study and slammed the door. Lavinia charged from the staircase and yanked the handle. “Mr. Saier, open up!” she demanded. “I'll have a word with you, sir.”
“Now,” Ioan replied
“No, not now as in later, now as in now,” Lavinia cried. “Open the door.” She marched inside and Ioan slammed the door again. “Lavinia, I will not be ordered around like a servant. You will address me with all respects. I am still master of this house,” he snapped.
“I don't like the way you've been acting. I understand there's been some difficulties, but it doesn't mean you have to take them out on everyone in this house. We hired a new servant girl yesterday and you did very little to make her feel welcome.”
“I don't need to make her feel welcome,” Ioan replied. “She's not my responsibility. She's your help.”
“As master of this house, I expect you to actively involve yourself and not behave like-like an ass.”
“It's in the blood, my dear. I was born and raised a rotten little shit. Square with it or find a husband who ain't so rich.”
Lavinia's eyes stung tearfully. “We once were very good friends. How did we become so detached?”
“Don't go greetin' again. You're never happy,” he snapped. “You demand so much from me. You have money and servants at your disposal. What more could you possibly need me to give you?”
“I had to beg you to come home for our wedding,” Lavinia cried. “You scarcely give me time! You hide away in that yacht all summer and try to pretend none of this exists! I exist, Ioan! I've always been here for you! Why can't you do the same for me?”
“Stop throwing yourself away on me,” Ioan suggested. “I can't give it back to you. I don't feel sorry about it because you know why there's a damn wedding, and any reason short of business is not required from me to marry you.”
“You don't love me then? Admit it. I'd like a fair warning before the altar on Sunday.”
“Madam, if I have given you any impression of that sort, for that only, do I apologize. You'd benefit from not assuming too much about me. Please keep that in mind,” Ioan answered grimly. He sat down his cigar and continued looking over his stock report. Once more, she was nonexistent. Lavinia's heart irately pounded in her ears. “I'm almost certain if she had asked you to stay home, you would have locked both of you in this house!”
“Don't start with me,” Ioan snapped. “It's always the case with you. Whenever you don't get your way, she is the one to blame. She's not here for you, Lavinia. She's not here for anyone. You've no right to even mention her name in this house.”
“Ioan, I beg you. I know it's killing you, but you've got to move on. Our marriage won't survive this.”
“You may go,” Ioan said. “I've lost taste in this conversation.”
Cora had just finished Lavinia's room. Lavinia brushed pass her in tears. “He doesn't mean it, Miss Hathaway,” she assured Cora. “He's just upset, is all. He'll be better after a night's rest.”
“Can I get you anything, miss?” Cora offered.
“I need a moment alone. Thank you. You're relieved.” Lavinia shut the door. Cora stood frozen in the hall listening to her sobs. Her face flushed angrily. Her fist tightened. Something had to be done. She marched to the study and knocked firmly. “Mr. Saier,” she ordered. “A word with you, sir?” No one answered.
“I'm coming in,” she warned. She shoved the door open. His chair was empty. He couldn't have gone far. She checked every room. She strode down the familiar passage which led to her old room. She touched the door handle and quietly pushed it open. It was exactly as she'd left it a year ago. Her white scarf and a lock of honey hair laid delicately on the bed. She approached them slowly and spotted her wedding ring resting on the scarf. She turned it over in her hands. It was so unfamiliar, representing a time so simple and naive. It'd been placed on her finger so lovingly, until it was torn away by hate. Cora wept for it and the diamond glistened against her tears.
“You were instructed to leave this room be. Have you no respect for our privacy?” Ioan blocked the doorway.
Cora startled, dropping the ring on the floor. “I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't see you standing there.”
Ioan picked up the ring. “Find what you were looking for? It's a pretty ring, isn't it? How much do you think they'd give you for it? More than it's worth, that's my guess, with all the lore surrounding it now. Probably more than my entire fortune. You'll want to be careful with this one. You'd bite in more than you can chew. What are they going to think when a girl like you shows them a ring like this?”
“I wasn't trying to steal it,” Cora defended.
“Right. There's a good one,” Ioan grabbed her arm dragged her out of the room.
“Mr. Saier, let go of me, sir!” Cora cried. “You're hurting me! I've done nothing wrong!”
“What's going on here?” Lavinia ran from the room. “What's all this about?”
“Go back to bed, Lavinia,” Ioan barked. “I'll deal with you in the morning. Mr. Knightly, phone the authorities and tell them to get down here immediately. This wench tried to make off with our things.”
“Miss Appleby, it's not how it looks! I swear it!” Cora cried. “I wandered into the wrong room! I shouldn't have touched anything! It wasn't my place! But I never intended to harm anyone!”
“Ioan, there must be a mistake! I trust Miss Hathaway entirely. This is not in her nature.”
“You're taking my word against some tramp's you saved from the street?” Ioan demanded. “You were wrong to pick her and you're too stubborn to admit it.”
“It has nothing to do with that. Perhaps you didn't see what you think you saw,” Lavinia cried. “Miss Hathaway would never hurt this family.”
“I want her out of this house,” Ioan ordered. “Get your things. You are terminated without pay. If you know what's best for you, do not show yourself here again. Go on. Get a move on.”
“Don't you dare push me!” Cora shrieked. “You can't go around treating people like this! It's not right no matter how you try to justify it!”
Ioan stared at her. Lavinia glanced nervously between Cora and Ioan. Mrs. Dillsworth waddled from the staircase. She snatched Cora away from Ioan before she said another word. “Please, sir, she's new to this business,” Mrs. Dillsworth pleaded. “It was an honest mistake. If anyone is to blame, it's me. I failed to inform her about the room. I will take the penalty for her actions.”
“No,” Cora snapped. “He needs to understand that he can't just-”
“He can, Miss Hathaway. He can. That's quite enough,” Mrs. Dillsworth whispered to her.
“Get out,” Ioan told Cora. “I won't repeat myself.”
“With pleasure,” Cora replied. “I wanted so much to believe in you, but it seems they proved me wrong. You are nothing but a monster.” Lavinia helplessly watched her storm away.
“I saw a better gentleman in your father,” Lavinia snapped at Ioan. “Not even he behaved the way you do. Your wife is better off where she is. She would have laid you out cold if she saw how you handle things now, and I wouldn't have lifted a finger to stop her.”
“Mrs. Saier-Miss Hathaway, please! Give him another chance! He needs you to stay here!” Mrs. Dillsworth begged.
“I will not tolerate this abuse. No one should have to,” Cora replied, grabbing her bag. “I don't know that man anymore. To think he'd even lay a hand on me!”
“Where will you go in the middle of the night?” Mrs. Dillsworth cried.
“I doubt you'll find a room at this hour,” Ioan's voice came from the hall. “You may stay here until morning.”
“No, thank you. I can find my own way,” Cora answered.
“It won'
t be cheap,” Ioan replied. “Report to my study.”
Cora reluctantly followed him. “What am I to do with two days pay?”
“I've made a habit of insuring all my debts are paid, big or small,” Ioan said. “Fifty pounds and we'll call it even.”
“I don't need that kind of money.”
Ioan ignored her as he wrote out the note. “You would have gotten loads more if you'd cashed in that ring,” he commented.
“I told you I didn't steal it.”
He signed his signature. “You're in for something quite rare, Miss Hathaway. It seems I owe you an apology,” he said. “I am a monster. Sometimes I don't realize it, but it is what it is. I'm not asking you to forgive me for it. I just thought you should know you were right about one thing.”
“Is that all?” Cora asked.
“Yes,” he replied.
She tried to take the note from him, but he held onto it. “Well, as I said before, good day, sir,” she said.
“There's one more thing,” he said. “I hope you'll change your mind about leaving. My betrothed is obsessed about you. Lord knows why.” He looked her over in displeasure. “I'll have the devil to pay if you go.”
“You deserve it.”
“Now don't play hard.”
“Give me one reason why I should stay.”
“Because,” Ioan replied, as if it should be obvious. “I said so.”
“Not good enough.”
“Because I will pay you more if you do.”
“The mistress doesn't pay me. I work for free. It's part of our agreement.”
“Because she needs someone by her side.”
“Isn't that what you're all about?” Cora asked.
“It doesn't work like that. That isn't what this is.”
“There's no reason why you shouldn't be a good husband to her,” Cora informed him. “She treats you well.”
“I'm sure you've heard all about this monster, Miss Hathaway,” he said. “How my life went to the dogs.”
“It's no excuse,” she persisted. “And if you continue to act this way, you'll lose even those who love you, and no one will pity you. Life is too short, Mr. Saier. One moment its one way, the next you're a ghost. You're too young for regret. Love her as if you never gave your heart away before. That's what Mrs. Saier would have wanted.” She snatched her note from his fingers and left the room.
Chapter 20
Lavinia blushed when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned her umbrella to Ioan. “You mean to tell me you've come down from your study?” she asked.
“I mean to stroll in my garden,” Ioan replied. “You may join me, Miss Appleby, if you'd like.” Lavinia's high cheeks churned a delightful pink as he took her arm.
“What is the occasion?” she asked.
“You're ignoring everything of interest,” Ioan said. “Did you notice we have lavenders now instead of marigolds?”
“I did notice,” Lavinia said. “I'm the one who told you last week.”
“Oh.” Ioan glanced around at the trees and flowers dancing slightly in the breeze. “I've missed some things. The garden has changed.”
“It's the same garden we've had all month.”
“It's impressive.” He spotted Cora and Mrs. Dillsworth picking carrots and strawberries across the way. “When did we plant a vegetable garden?”
“Over eight months ago. Darling, I told you all this.”
“Oh. Right,” Ioan said. “I see our help is still with us.”
“You're not allowed to speak to her,” Lavinia said firmly. “She agreed to stay at least until we are married and I won't have you scaring her off. I need her help around here.”
“She's a moose, isn't she?” Ioan remarked.
“Don't go around saying that. She can't help her looks,” Lavinia told him. “What matters is her work.”
“I suppose she's a tolerable decision. A bit more opinionated for my cup of tea, but I suppose that's why you like her.”
“She's got an odd aura about her. I can't grasp it. The house loves her. It came to life when she walked in. I don't know how to explain it, but it's pleasant. It's a nice change from the coldness we've entertained.”
“If you insist, Miss Appleby. I don't see anything remarkable about her,” Ioan replied. His eyes were on Cora again. He didn't dare admit it, but something about her presence did strike him. He felt as if he knew exactly what it was, but still couldn't define it. A locked door to a place he knew he felt warm and safe, but misplaced the key.
“You're not impressed with anything.”
“It's rummy,” he replied. “I remember her from some place, but I don't know where.”
“You couldn't possibly,” Lavinia giggled. “She's from Montana. You've never gone to Montana.” Ioan watched Cora delicately place each carrot in her basket. “It's how she carries herself,” he said. “It's right familiar.”
“You're confusing yourself with someone else,” Lavinia told him. “You must be. Miss Hathaway grew up on a farm.”
“Right,” Ioan agreed. “I must be.” He didn't disclose his true thoughts to Miss Appleby. No sense in spoiling the morning when they were getting on so well. Nevertheless, there was only one person he knew who carried herself like that. To confuse Miss Hathaway as such was madness. He quickly disregarded the idea.
Cora met his gaze and Ioan looked away. “You don't suppose he's catching on?” she asked Mrs. Dillsworth.
“If he is, he'd be here in your arms instead of hers,” Mrs. Dillsworth answered.
“He keeps looking this way,” Cora said. “It's unnerving.” Ioan escorted Miss Appleby to the east part of the garden, pointing out birds to her as he went.
“I don't know how you do it, Mrs. Saier-I mean, Miss Hathaway. You keep your composure so calmly,” Mrs. Dillsworth said. “How do you handle another woman clinging on your man like that?”
“I don't,” Cora answered, picking up another carrot. “I don't even see her next to him when I look his way.”
Mrs. Dillsworth led the way back through the kitchen. “What say you to a stew this evening, dear?” she asked Cora as they heaved the baskets of carrots on the table.
“What else are we to do with so many carrots?” Cora commented.
“Whose day is it for market duty?” Mrs. Dillsworth glanced at the calender.
“I'll go,” Cora volunteered. “Maybe I can sell these carrots for some bread. We're almost out. You know how particular Miss Appleby is about her bread slices. Cut it less than an inch and a half and we're out of the house.”
“Sweet Jesus, do not forget the lace handkerchiefs,” Mrs. Dillsworth reminded her. “They must come from Mrs. Harriet's shop. The first thing Miss Appleby does is check the stitched initials to make sure they're authentic.”
Cora wrapped her shawl around her and rested the carrot basket on her arm. She repeated her list over and over again, “Handkerchiefs. Mrs. Harriet's. 12th and Frankfurt street. Bread. Carrots. Handkerchiefs. Potatoes. Check wine vintage.” Ioan rested his feet against the bookshelf in the drawing room as he lounged on the sofa. He raised an eyebrow behind his book as Cora hurried by. “Miss Hathaway, is the kitchen on fire?” he asked.
“No, sir.”
“Are you running away then?”
“Market, sir.”
“I'll send for the car,” Ioan offered.
“I can walk, sir.”
“It'll be dark by the time you return,” Ioan said. “I'll accompany you.”
“That's not necessary, nor entirely proper, Mr. Saier. This is why you hired me, so you won't have to do these things.”
“I have some personal things I'd like from the market. You can't possibly carry all of it back.” There was no getting around it. He had his coat and hat before she could protest. “You can't go with me dressed like that. It's humiliating,” she objected.
“What's wrong with the way I look?” he demanded.
“It's a market. Not a dinner party.”
H
e dropped the hat. “May I proceed, your highness?”
They said nothing to each other the whole way. Ioan seemed content with the silence. He guarded Cora like a homeless puppy. There was a certain lift to his step. He even smiled and nodded to folks they passed. He waited outside Mrs. Harriet's for her and negotiated a better price for her carrots. When Cora left Mrs. Harriet's, Ioan placed the money in her hand. “Get something nice for yourself, Miss Hathaway. I'll buy the bread for you.” He went off to the bakery, but returned with a cinnamon roll. He broke a piece off for her and they sat eating in silence, watching the pigeons peck at stones. Cora soon suspected the real reason for his company. He studied her intently. He tried so hard to figure her out. She carefully avoided his eyes.
“Does the lady desire a portrait?” a painter approached them hopefully.
“No,” Cora said quickly. “Not now. Thank you.”
“Why shouldn't you, Miss Hathaway?” Ioan asked.
“How much are your portraits?”
“Five cent a portrait, sir.”
“Come, Miss Hathaway. Give the man some practice.”
“No, sir,” Cora repeated firmly.
“Where should she stand?” Ioan asked.
“I will sit her by the oak tree,” the painter exclaimed.
“Right here, miss. I will take these for you.” He retrieved her glasses. “Chin up slightly. Eyes toward the fountain. Just like that, miss. Please don't move.”
“Why have you gotten me into this?” Cora hissed at Ioan. Ioan leaned in amusement against the oak tree.
“No talking, Miss Hathaway. You don't want to look constipated on paper,” he said.
The painter nodded repeatedly to himself as he began his sketch. “My dear, you have a natural noble beauty,” he complimented. “It brightens the canvas.”
Ioan laughed unconvinced. “You think so?” He peeked over the painter's shoulder. His sly grin melted away. “She does, doesn't she?” he said quietly to the painter. Ioan glanced between subject and painting. He didn't say much after that. He waited near the tree silently as the painter finished. The painter proudly turned his work for viewing. Cora sat daintily against the tree trunk, looking out pensively to the fountain. Ioan leaned against the trunk and gazed softly at her. “Why am I standing there?” Ioan asked.
Once We Were Page 19