Michael visited Scotland too. Joel wrote to their father and requested Michael stay, and to his surprise, his father agreed to the trip. Whilst in Scotland, Joel and Frederick persuaded Michael to be hidden for the next year, until he reached twenty one. Though reluctant at first, especially to defy his father, he finally agreed. His concerns originated from the belief that nothing could be done to out-do their father, knowing how ruthless he was. But somehow, with Frederick's help, Joel had persuaded him.
Now, with Michael and Sarah safely on their way to their hiding place in France, Joel was returning to finally confront his father.
“Pre-emption,” was the word Frederick kept repeating to him, as well as comments such as, “Never let the old man command you again,” and “tell him that it all ends now.” Joel smiled to himself at all the encouragement he had been given by Frederick over the last few months.
Frederick's words had helped, but were not needed now. Joel ceased to be ambivalent from the moment he saw Adella in Bath; his decision was finally made and he would not swerve from it. He wanted the thorn in his side removed once and for all.
“Nervous?” Frederick said as the carriage stopped outside the house.
“Yes,” Joel said.
“I will not leave you,” Frederick said earnestly.
Joel nodded and they stepped out of the carriage and entered the house. The weeks of planning and preparation were to finally come to a head within a few minutes.
But it was more than that. The years his father controlled him, kept him captive, controlled his every move. But no more. It was about to stop. It had to stop. There was no other option available. From this moment on, he was taking complete control of his own life; his father be damned!
Chapter 17
“Is my father at home?” Joel asked the footman as he took his coat and hat.
“Yes sir, he is in the drawing room with your mother and two guests.”
Joel and Frederick stopped and exchanged glances.
“Who are the visitors?”
“Mr Farrell and Rev Milne.”
Two old family friends. Joel tried to hide the anxious expression on his face. He did not want to stall. Now was the time he had decided to confront his father, and it was late afternoon already. He started to walk towards the drawing room but Frederick grabbed at his sleeve, “A short while will make no difference. It will give you time to gather a few personal items.”
Joel nodded and slowly walked up the grand staircase to his bed chamber. Before long, he found himself sitting on the bed. His hands gripped the side of the mattress. His mind wondered about the task ahead; did he really have the strength to do it? He managed to pull his thoughts together and to the task in hand. There was little he wanted to take, all of the furniture was his father's and he had most of his clothes already. But he did take a few items. A pocket watch given to him by his mother on his eighteenth birthday. He never used it. Several pairs of gold cuff links; they were not worth much, but they could be sold if he needed the money.
After one last look at his room, the room in which he had been held captive at the age of twenty, the room which still had bars outside the window, he went back down and found Frederick still waiting in the hallway. He was seated on one of the hall chairs, biting his nails. The hallway was cold, and there was a dull smell of damp about it. He would not be sorry to leave this place.
“Shall we go in?” Frederick asked as Joel reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Yes. I think our arrival may send the guests away.”
“Maybe. We can but see.”
Joel pushed open the heavy oak door and they entered. All the occupants within looked up. Joel's mother was nearest; stood next to a table with the tea things. His father was seated further inside the room, next to the guests. The room was not changed since the last time he had been there. Not surprising. The grand drawing room was always immaculately presented as the main entertaining room for guests who called. The public face of a family with secrets.
“Joel!” his mother said as he stepped in and kissed her. He noticed her eyes were deeply drawn and her skin paler than normal. “I have missed you so. You stayed away too long.” She fussed over him, as though he was a child, but Joel enjoyed it. He knew it would probably be the last time he saw his mother. For a fleeting moment, he regretted his decision.
For only a moment.
“That is enough Clara. Joel is no longer a small boy,” his father said. He turned to the guests and continued. “Joel has been in Scotland, grieving for his late wife.”
Mr Farrell, an elderly gentleman spoke with a bow of his head, “Yes, may I offer my sincere condolences for your great loss. Your daughter must miss her mother too.”
“Yes, where is Sarah?” Mr Polwarth asked.
Joel glanced at his father, then at his mother who wore a look of expectation. For a moment Joel faltered, unsure what to say. But he quickly recovered, “I will tell you later.”
His father raised his eyebrows, and smiled.
The conversation was unbearable at times. Joel could barely bring himself to take part in it and he noticed his mother spoke in the most part to Frederick; a few times he heard her asking after Sarah.
Finally, it was nearly an hour later when the visitors rose to leave. He watched his mother and father re-enter the room after seeing the guests out. They sat down on the sofa, and Joel felt a wash of vulnerability. He looked over to Frederick. He was stood by the window, and moments later moved next to Joel in a silent gesture of support.
It was now or never.
Joel took a deep breath.
He swallowed hard.
'Father, I have come home for one final time. I have come to tell you that I will no longer be a slave to your wishes. I will not marry Mrs Golding.”
Joel watched as a cruel smirk spread over his father's face, “I know why you have come home Joel.”
“You do?”
“Do you think I did not know of your plans to hide Michael and Sarah?”
Joel's eyes widened in disbelief, “What? How did - ”
“Surprised?” his father said in a smooth tone. “Do you really think I wouldn't find out what you were up to?”
“I will not marry Mrs Golding.” Joel repeated.
“Well, we'll see whether you do as I say. . .” His father stood up quickly and walked to the far drawing room door.
He opened it.
“Come through,” his father said.
For a moment Joel could see nothing. Then he heard footsteps on the wooden floor.
Slowly, a familiar tall figure came into the room.
Michael.
Joel was paralysed for a moment until he finally was able to say, “Michael?”
He blinked hard. Michael stood next to their father; shoulder to shoulder.
“Did I convince you enough that I was on your side?” Michael said.
“I think you did judging from the look on Joel's face,” their father said.
Michael laughed, “You really are a fool Joel. Father has changed his Will and I am to inherit the estate.”
“Yes,” their father continued. “Michael has shown me loyalty above anyone else. Much more than you ever have or ever will. What do you think of that?” There was a small smile playing on his lips.
“Michael. How could you?” Joel demanded.
“I do not see why you should get everything, just because you were born first.” Michael sneered.
“After all I have done for you. . .all the times I have protected you from him.”
Then suddenly his thoughts took another turn. He stepped forward, “Where is Sarah? What have you done with her?”
Joel put the question to Michael, but it was his father who answered, “She is safe. . .somewhere. Not France where you intended to hide her. If you wish to see her again, you will marry Mrs Golding.”
“Never!” Joel shouted.
He heard his mother give a small whimper.
“You are des
picable,” Frederick said, “You have taken another man's child and hidden her?”
“Oh yes,” Mr Polwarth said still with amusement in his voice, “Frederick, your loyalty to my son does you credit, but it is misguided. Such a waste.”
Joel watched as the colour rose in Frederick's face. “You do not think you can get away with this? We will see what the Police have to say about kidnapping Sarah.”
Mr Polwarth laughed, “I am not worried. I have a wonderful story to tell them. You sent away your own child Joel, and Michael has managed to make it back home to tell us that whilst on their way to France, she was kidnapped by gypsies. Isn't that right?”
Michael smirked, “Yes father, it was tragic; there was nothing I could do, there were too many of them. Goodness knows what has become of her. Sold into slavery probably. Or maybe if you are lucky they will keep her as a servant girl.”
“So, Joel,” Mr Polwarth said. 'If you wish to see your child again, you will do as I say.”
“No! You will not hurt Sarah!”
But the words did not come from Joel or Frederick. It was his mother who spoke. She ran towards her husband and youngest son. “Please, you must not hurt her!”
“Shut up. Do not speak,” Mr Polwarth shouted back at her.
She looked despairingly at her husband and cowered back.
Then, as though a hidden force pushed her forwards, she suddenly grabbed Michael's hand. “Michael, you must not listen to your father, tell me where Sarah is. She must not be harmed. She must not be locked away, not another one. . .please, Michael, you must not listen to him.”
“Shut up!” His father grabbed her and pushed her away.
Joel took a step towards his father, fists clenched by his sides. “Leave her alone.”
“She is my wife, and I can do as I wish with her.”
“That is it isn't it? You have to have your own way. Its always been that. You have to be in control. Not this time. Not any more. I will go to the Police and we will see who they believe.”
Joel turned and started to walk away, until his father's icy tones spoke again. “If you go to the Police, I will have her killed.”
“No!” cried his mother again. “I will not let you hurt her!” She turned to Michael again, pleading. 'Michael, he cannot give you the estate, it is an entail. Joel will inherit, there is nothing you can do.”
“An entail?” Joel said, with a gleam of triumph in his eyes.
“Silence!” Mr Polwarth roared. His face contorted for a moment then settled more into an inscrutable mask.
He turned to Michael with a nervous laugh and said, “Do not listen to her, she is unstable.”
There was a deathly hush for a moment until Joel said, “An entail. The estate is an entail. I am the eldest son and I will get it whether you like it or not.”
“Father, say it is not so?” Michael said, his eyes wide with shock.
Joel's mother spoke again, “It is an entail! You must not let him hurt Sarah.” Tears formed in her eyes. “The lawyers know, he has paid them to keep quiet.”
“It is NOT an entail,” Mr Polwarth shouted, “What would you know? You stupid woman. SHUT UP!”
“Say it is not so father,” Michael said, now with anguish in his voice. “Say it is not so!”
But Joel saw the moments panic in his fathers face when his mother first spoke. Just one fleeting look of panic in his eyes that spoke the truth.
He stepped confidently forward. “So, all these years you have led me to believe that you could disinherit me any moment you chose to, when all along you have been using it as an excuse to control me!”
“Don't be a fool,” his father said.
“I would only be a fool if I continued to believe the poison that comes out of your mouth. It should be simple enough to find out the truth about the estate, through official means.”
Joel stared at his father. For the first time in his life, he felt power over him. It had been a long time coming. Joel watched as his father slowly turn red. He knew his anger was about to explode.
With one swift movement his father grabbed a display knife from the wall and unsheathed it. It was five inches long.
Joel clenched his fists, waiting for his father to come towards him.
But his father made a lunge towards his wife. It took them all by surprise, and Joel only just managed to grab his arm in time. The knife was just inches from his mother's neck.
His father's grip was strong.
“Mother, get out of here,” he screamed.
But she didn't move.
They started to struggle. Joel tried to get control of the weapon. His father resisting with all his strength. Somehow he pushed his father back a few feet.
“Now we will see which of us is stronger,” Joel said through clenched teeth.
Frederick was quick off the mark, and tried to help by grabbing Mr Polwarth from behind.
But he elbowed Frederick hard in the face. He fell backwards landing on the floor.
They were a tumble of bodies as they both fell on the floor and rolled over, each trying to overcome the other.
Joel heard Frederick shout, “Michael, help your brother for God sake!”
But no help came.
After a few moments, Joel pinned his father to the floor, still fiercely holding his wrist.
The knife pointing towards him.
They stared at each other. Neither spoke. Each silently tried to impose his will on the other.
Just as he thought he overcame his father, Joel felt a sharp kick on his shoulder which sent him reeling backwards.
Michael.
Before he could react, his father plunged the knife into his right shoulder. He stared down at it. It went in a few inches. Pain paralysed him and he screamed out.
He somehow managed to grab at the knife. He tried to pull it out. It wouldn't move. His father staggered to his feet. Then, without sparing Joel a glance, he brushed himself down and fixed his cool gaze on his petrified wife.
She shrieked, and started to edge away. But he lunged forward again and grabbed her by the throat and pushed her upwards against the wall. Joel watched helpless. He tried to stand up, but he was losing blood and he crumpled to the floor, fighting to stay conscious and crippled by pain.
All he could hear was his mother struggling to breathe.
“Stop him Michael. For God's sake. Stop him!” Joel cried.
But still Michael did nothing. Joel searched for Frederick. He was kneeling across the room. He looked dazed. Joel watched as Frederick reached inside his jacket pocket and took out a pistol.
Frederick tried to aim at Mr Polwarth, but his hand shook.
“Give it to me,” Joel shouted. “Quickly.”
Joel looked over at his mother, his father still held a firm grip around her throat. She was gasping for air. Her eyes bulged with fear as she desperately tried to struggle free.
Within seconds, the gun slid across the wooden floor and into Joel's hand.
He lifted the gun, and cried out in pain. He looked down at the weapon still lodged in his shoulder. His shirt that was already soaked in blood. He was running out of time. Despite the searing pain, he made one last effort to lift the gun and took aim.
A shot rang out.
Then everything went black.
***
Adella had spent most of the day at the church hall helping prepare it for a fund raising dinner that evening for the deserving poor. It was to be a grand event with many of the local dignitaries attending, including the Mayor. The price of the dinner was an extravagance she could not afford, so, she contented herself with helping to decorate, prepare food, and generally make herself useful in any way. So she helped hang bunting and ribbons, and decorated the table so it befit the most important ladies and gentlemen.
By three o'clock, everything was done, and she and the other five volunteers gained the Rev and Mrs Buyers heartfelt thanks for their efforts. So, at half past three, she had hardly stepped through t
he front door at home, when her mother hurried along the hallway to greet her, one glance at her intense frown told Adella she was agitated.
“There is a young gentleman here to see you,” she said breathlessly. “He has been here for an hour, and he will not tell me his name. He insisted on waiting and would not hear of coming back later when I told him you would be some time. He kept asking where you were, I did not tell him the truth; well, he would not tell me who he was!”
Adella's brow furrowed. She knew straight away that it must be Joel. It was just over a month since his last visit, and yet here he was again. She had at least expected him to stay away for two or three months.
“Is he in the sitting room?” she asked.
“Yes, I think he is rich. He is wearing very fine looking clothes and he arrived in an expensive looking carriage. He would hardly speak to me either. Most rude.”
He was obviously trying to hide his identity from her mother because he feared her response.
“Very well mother, I shall go directly.”
Adella almost ran to the sitting room. Her heart thumped as she tried to compose herself. He had said he would return to court her. Well here he was still too early.
She entered the sitting room and saw the gentleman stood at the far side of the room with his back to her. She knew instantly who it was. The tall figure, the dark, slightly curly hair.
She had not expected him of all people.
“You!” she said, rooted to the spot. He turned around and she found herself looking into the face of Frederick Garner.
He stepped forward eagerly and gave a small bow, “Miss Maxwell. You may wonder at my sudden appearance. But I am here on a profoundly important errand. A matter of life and death in fact.” His voice was low and quick.
Adella said nothing, but waited for him to explain himself.
He continued, obviously encouraged by her silence, “It is Joel. He lies gravely ill, and I have come to take you to him.”
Adella drew herself up. “Ill?”
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