“What?” Dillon’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “I have no room for something that big.”
“You will make room for this, son.” Roderick’s brown eyes gleamed. “’Tis a gift for you.”
Dillon mentally tried fitting the huge box into his shop. There simply was not a space big enough to accommodate something of that size. “Father, I do not wish to hurt your feelings but I simply cannot figure out what I would need that is so large.”
“Wait until you see what it is.” Roderick clapped his hands.
* * *
“A new printing press!” Johnny squealed.
Dillon stood stunned, not saying a word. The cast-iron frame gleamed as the fire from the hearth danced over the steel. “I cannot believe you bought this.” He finally uttered.
“I noted how many times you complained about the old one breaking down. When I found out that the Earl of Stanhope made this press out of cast iron instead of wood, I had to get it for you.”
“I had no idea that you even read my letters,” Dillon admitted. Not only had his father been reading the letters, but actually listened to what he said in them. “You never responded, ‘twas Bernadine who always wrote back.”
“Writing letters is more of a woman’s job.”
Dillon ran his hand along the smooth, cool frame. “’Tis much sturdier.”
“And ‘twill not rot like the wood frame,” Johnny added.
“Not to mention that you now have two presses. You can cut your printing time in half.” Roderick pointed out.
“I do not have the words to thank you.” Dillon looked at his father. “’Tis the most marvelous gift ever.”
* * *
Roderick sniffed the glass of brandy. “Must be my old age but the smell of this is getting worse.”
“’Tis God warning you not to drink,” Caitlin said.
“Perhaps you are correct.” He sat the goblet down with a sigh. “I have enjoyed a nightcap since I was nineteen years old. But lately the brandy has not been sitting well with me.”
“Have you tried a different brand?” Dillon asked.
“I have no idea. Bernadine orders the stuff. She insists it is the same I have always drank.”
Caitlin picked up the glass and sniffed. “I am glad I have never had a desire for it.” She wrinkled her nose. “I could never get past the smell let alone the taste.”
“You managed very well at our wedding.” Dillon wagged his brows.
“I assure you I learned my lesson.” Green eyes pinned him in place. “And what about you, my lord? I recall you having an inebriated spell as well.”
“’Twas just jealousy.” Dillon kissed the tip of her nose. “Now that you are mine completely I shall never have need for strong drink again.”
“If you can stop kissing your wife perhaps we can play a game of chess.” Roderick set up the board. “If I’m not having my night cap I’ll need something to take my mind off drinking.”
Caitlin laughed. “I shall work on my stitching.”
Bernadine waltzed into the room, silently joining Caitlin on the settee with her needlepoint. The quiet solitude broke only when Dillon or Roderick occasionally laughed.
Caitlin smiled at the two of them. It was nice to see them patch up their relationship. The old wounds and hurts of the past left behind as they forged a new bond.
“What are you smiling about?” Bernadine asked.
“’Twas just thinking how well Roderick and Dillon are getting on.”
Bernadine arched her raven brow, and studied the two of them. “They are getting along famously.” Her blue eyes narrowed. A little too famously.
“Master Dillon,” The maid rushed in the room. “Word has come from Johnny that he needs you down at the shop right away.”
“Did he say what the matter is?” Dillon took the note card she held and read it. “I fear I must leave for a while.” Looking at Caitlin he said, “make sure Father does not touch any of the game pieces. He likes to cheat.”
Caitlin gave him a kiss. “I shall watch him.”
“I hope ‘tis nothing serious.” Bernadine added, never looking up from her work.
“I am sure he just needs some help.”
“I will come with you.” Roderick offered. “Perhaps it is something with the new press.”
“You need to rest, Father. If it is an urgent matter or I need you, I will send for you.”
Roderick couldn’t argue. He was not feeling well. He seemed to be getting sicker over the last few days. His breathing was hard and his heart felt like it would jump right out of his chest. “All right, but send for me if you need me,” he offered.
“Very well.” After a quick kiss to Caitlin, he was gone.
It was not but the space of half an hour later when they received another note. This one from Dr. Andrews stating that Dillon had been thrown from his horse on his way to town.
“Does it say if he is hurt?” Bernadine grabbed the letter out of Caitlin’s hand.
“Nay. There is no information at all.” Caitlin felt the panic welling up. Her hands trembled, and her legs went weak. She had never once in her life ever felt faint, but this descending blackness was about to overtake her.
Bernadine noticed the odd look and hurried to her side. “Quickly, get her sitting before she faints.”
Roderick assisted, and after Caitlin was safely on the settee he asked Bernadine, “What shall we do now?”
“Get the carriage ready. Caitlin cannot possibly ride her horse.”
“The stable hands are preparing the carriage as we speak,” The maid informed them.
“Good. Now get the smelling salts.” Bernadine took command.
“I do not believe we have any.”
“No smelling salts!” Bernadine shrieked. “What kind of household has no smelling salts?”
“Well, ma’am,” The young girl fretted. “Mistress Caitlin has never needed them.”
“And I shall not need them now.” Caitlin stood. “I will be fine. But I must get to Dillon.” Although her legs wobbled, she knew she must be strong.
“Of course,” Bernadine agreed. “But you cannot possibly go alone.”
“I shall accompany her,” Roderick offered.
“I believe I should be the one to go with her,” Bernadine argued. “‘Twill not look proper if you chaperon her alone at this late hour.”
“Dillon is my son. I do not believe anyone would think it unsuitable.”
“We do not have time to argue,” Caitlin berated.
“Yes. Yes. Of course,” Bernadine sighed. “Very well, but send me word as soon as you have news.”
Lucy bustled around collecting Caitlin’s belongs as fast as she could. “Are you positive you do not want me to accompany you also?”
“No use both of being irritable from lack of sleep. You go back to bed and I will be home as soon as I can.”
“I will not be able to sleep one wink until I know how Master Dillon is fairing.”
“Then be on your knees praying,” Caitlin suggested. “He will need all our prayers.”
Caitlin and Roderick whirled out the door and into the carriage, commanding the driver to go as fast as possible. Bernadine ordered the maid to bring some tea. “’Twill be a long night.” She sat down to finish her stitching, patiently awaiting some news.
* * *
“Blast it all,” Dillon muttered. “Who sent this note?”
“I do not know, sir.” Johnny read the words. “’Tis not my handwriting.”
“Why would someone want to tease me so?” Must have been someone pulling a joke, that was the only thing he could surmise.
“I have no idea, sir.”
“I am sorry to have gotten you up so late.” When Dillon found no one at the shop, he went directly to Johnny’s house.
“’Tis not a problem. Good night, Mr. Cade.”
Dillon was still running the whole situation through his head, when he happened upon a carriage, turned upside down. It looked
as if it rolled over and tumbled down the steep incline of the cliff. Kicking his steed into a run, he headed down the hill.
As he neared the site, his heart plummeted to his feet. The black wreckage was his very own carriage. “Caitlin!” he yelled. Only the deathly silence of the night replied.
Chapter 20
Dillon jumped off his horse and ran to the carriage. He tried to look inside but the darkness prevented him from seeing anything. The half moon floating overhead did little to aid his search.
Finally hearing a murmur, he followed the sound, stumbling over rocks and brush. He found Roderick about ten yards from the wreck. “Father are you all right? Why are you out here? What happened?” Dillon rambled on in panic.
“The carriage rolled over.” Roderick grunted in pain.
“Where is Caitlin?”
“Don’t know.” The raspy whisper was the last thing spoken before Roderick fell unconscious again.
“Father.” Dillon shook him, but got no response. He felt for a pulse and found one. “Oh, God, please let him live, and help me find Caitlin. Do not take her. I beg you. Do not take her away.”
After stumbling around in the dark, frantically calling her name, he knew he had to get help. He would never find anything without some lanterns. He hated to leave the scene but knew the chances of someone traveling this road at this time of night were remote.
Jumping on his horse he headed to town.
* * *
“I found her,” Mr. Johnson shouted. “She’s over here.”
Dillon and Dr. Andrews ran to where Caitlin lay unconscious. Dillon gazed down at her, fearing the worst. Her fair skin was now whiter than the paper he used at the printing shop. Dark circles formed under both eyes, and blood trickled down her temple. “God, please let her be alive,” he begged.
“I feel a pulse,” Dr. Andrews informed him. “She has a nasty gash on her head but I think she will be fine.”
“Thank you, Lord.” Dillon shouted. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” He felt like dancing.
“I don’t feel any broken bones,” Dr. Andrews continued his examination. “I believe she jumped clear before the carriage crashed.”
Other men from town still milled around the accident. They found the young driver pinned under the wreckage. Using a large tree branch and a boulder as a lever to lift the carriage they pulled the young boy out.
“I’m sorry, Dillon, there is no pulse.” Dr. Andrews hated to deliver the bad news. “He barely looks twenty.”
“I want to know what happened.” Dillon shouted in frustration.
“We can’t do any more tonight.” Dr. Andrews said. “We can investigate further in the morning. Let’s get Caitlin and your father to the house so I can tend to their wounds.”
* * *
“I tell you I am fine.” Caitlin yelled in frustration. “I want to get out of this bed.”
“You are not moving until the doctor examines you.” Dillon stood firm.
“I have been bedridden for three days. I just want to stretch my muscles.”
“Not until Dr. Andrews says you may walk.”
“Then get him in here.” Her green eyes glared.
“He will be by later.” Dillon laughed softly. He was glad to see the spark of temper.
“Must I lie about all day? ‘Tis three days until Christmas and I have nothing ready.” She crossed her arms. “’Tis bad enough that I have to postpone the celebration until after Christmas.”
“I know you had your heart set on a Christmas celebration, but we will have one as soon as you are well enough. As for Christmas, Martha and Bernadine have taken control of the duties.”
“Great!” she huffed. “My first Christmas and I cannot do anything for the celebration. I am not only missing the Lord’s birthday, I am also missing my first Christmas as your wife.” Tears rolled down her black and blue cheeks.
“You are not missing anything. You will be up and moving around by then.” Dillon reached into his jacket and pulled out a long rectangular box. “Perhaps this will brighten your mood.”
“You cannot buy me happiness.” Caitlin smoothed out the wrinkles in the quilt, pretending not to care at all about the gift.
“I am not trying to buy anything, ‘tis a gift.”
“’Tis a bit early for Christmas.”
“’Tis not for Christmas. We have been married for three months.”
“You bought me a three month anniversary gift?” Her face brightened under the dark marks marring her face. She could no longer feign disinterest.
“Oh, Dillon, you shouldn’t have.” The round diamond pendent picked up the light from the bedside lantern making it sparkle with various colors. The diamonds placed evenly along the gold chain may have been too small to sparkle, but they added beauty and elegance to the necklace. “’Tis too expensive.”
“Nothing is too expensive for you.” Dillon leaned forward, gently placing a kiss on her lips, the only spot on her face that wasn’t bruised. “What are these tears? Do you not like it?”
“’Tis most beautiful.”
“Then what is the matter?”
“I did not get you anything. I hate to admit it, but I had not even recalled that we have been married for three months.”
“All right, then.” Dillon laughed. “Perhaps we can consider this a thankful that you’re alive gift.” His face grew serious along with his tone. “I will give anything and everything to keep you safe.”
Caitlin reached up, cupping his face in her hands. “’Twill take more than a carriage accident to get rid of me.”
Dillon kissed the back of her hands. “I do not ever want to live without you.”
“Now where is your faith, my husband?” Caitlin gently reprimanded. “Are you not the one always preaching on faith in God?”
“I merely repeat what the pastor preaches on Sundays,” he sighed.
“If God chose to take me home to heaven, he would surely provide you with the strength to endure without me.”
“My head tells me you are correct, but my heart aches at the thought of life alone.” He stared into her eyes. “’Twould be no fun or joy without you.”
“You are speaking foolishness now.” Her playful laugh ended the dreary conversation on a happy note.
Bernadine’s entrance, however, breathed new life into the dark and gloomy mood. The rustle of skirts and tapping of heels forewarned them of her appearance. But, nothing could have prepared them for her cheerfulness.
Bernadine breezed into the room with a smile on her face and green boughs of pine and holly in her hands. “I have come to decorate your room.” She announced. “I thought, perhaps ‘twould brighten your attitude.”
Caitlin and Dillon stared at each other in stunned silence.
“’Tis just awful how that carriage wheel just broke so suddenly.” Bernadine started arranging the holly on the windowsill. “I cannot understand this situation at all.” Turning to Dillon she sighed. “First you get called away on a bogus emergency, then Caitlin and Roderick receive a letter which sends them out into the night, where the wagon wheel practically falls off.” She shook her head.
“The wheel did not fall off,” Dillon stated. “’Twas tampered with.”
Surprise filled her blue eyes. “You mean to say someone purposely tried to harm Caitlin or Roderick?” She looked about to faint.
“’Twould be my guess.” Dillon made no move to help guide her to a chair.
“But why?” Caitlin questioned. “We have done nothing.”
“Perhaps it was because of all these political matters with the paper,” Bernadine suggested as she sat down in the nearest chair. Although miffed that Dillon hadn’t offered to help, she was more interested in the information he had come upon.
“The government would not try to kill me, they would arrest me.”
“Perhaps the person who had you arrested was angry at you being released?” Bernadine suggested.
Dillon’s brown brows knitted tog
ether as he pondered the suggestion. “I doubt it,” he finally said. He had not yet shared the information that Henrietta had blabbed to the sheriff. Moreover, he couldn’t perceive her being so ruthless as to try and kill Caitlin. He doubted she was even smart enough to come up with such a complex plan. “Besides they went after Caitlin and my father.”
“We have no idea who the intended victim was,” Bernadine pointed out. “Caitlin and Roderick happened to be in there. ‘Tis possible the carriage accident was meant for you.”
“That is a valid point,” Caitlin agreed. “You could have taken the carriage yourself.”
“How do you explain the letter that led to you being in the carriage?” Dillon questioned.
“I do not have any explanations for any of the happenings lately.” Caitlin shook her head. “Have you found out any more information about the painting?” She wanted to change the subject.
“I finished interviewing the workers but as yet have not found anything. Of course that investigation has been put on hold. My first priority is finding the person responsible for the carriage accident.”
The Unwilling Bride Page 32