by Linda Daly
“It is entirely my pleasure, dear woman. Why, you’re trembling like a kitten. Have I offended you?” As he watched her, he began enjoying the little cat-and-mouse game he had conjured up in his mind.
Suddenly feeling uncomfortable by his familiarity and the look in his eyes, Felicity withdrew her hand from his and quickly added, “You’ve not offended me at all. It’s just that I have much to do this afternoon.” Excusing herself, she politely added. “If you will please forgive me.”
“Of course. Will I be seeing you this evening at the Honeycutt’s, Felicity?”
Hearing him address her by her first name, her back stiffened, but feeling grateful for his help, she nodded. “Yes. I look forward to it.”
As soon as she agreed, Felicity regretted her words, Now I suppose we will have to attend this evening. Fiddlesticks!
“As do I.” His words were sincere, yet Felicity still felt uncomfortable around him. Chastising herself for holding on to old misgivings about him and deciding perhaps she had been wrong about his character, she walked back to the courtyard where Miranda was still attending the children.
The thought of not having to care for the children for an evening and being carefree enjoying adult conversation was appealing to her, even if it were to be only for one night. Realizing her thoughts, Felicity felt ashamed. Stop this at once, she scolded herself. This is Benjamin’s vocation and he loves his work. And as his wife you must too! Besides, these poor children need you. Who else would care for them?
No matter how much she missed being alone with Benjamin as they were in Washington, without the demands of running the orphanage, she forced herself not to think of her own needs. She knowingly and willingly had chosen this life to be with her Ben. And even though it was burdensome at times, she knew she had been blessed by God to have the love of such a fine man that she loved with all her heart. She only wished that he could find fulfillment to serve God by preaching as he had in England, without the demands of three-hundred children requiring so much of their time and energy on a daily basis.
Entering the courtyard, she paused momentarily to look at the younger children playing carefree in the courtyard. Without realizing it, she found herself envying them. With so much on Benjamin’s mind, worrying where the money was going to come from to care for all of them, she hadn’t seen him truly relax since their return. Although he was always tender to her, she knew he was consumed in worry, and by the time the two of them went to bed at night they were too exhausted to share the closeness they once had. Missing that time with her husband, she said a prayer. Dear Lord, please bring relief soon. Not just for the children, but for Benjamin and me as well. I miss his smile and our intimacy with one another.
Seeing Felicity while watching the younger children run about, Miranda called to her. “My, what a surprise Mr. Sterling was.”
Startled, Felicity said nonchalantly, “Yes he is. Isn’t he?” Still feeling overburdened, yet not wanting her friend to see it, she smiled softly while walking closer to her. Noticing the look of apprehension in Miranda’s eyes for his motives, ashamed for her own uneasiness for his sudden generosity, and not wanting to discuss it with her, Felicity quickly changed the subject.
“Never mind James. Tell me more of that handsome Mr. O’Flaherty. What is it about that particular gentleman that seems to annoy you so?”
Noting Felicity had called James by his Christian name, never hearing her refer to him that way in the past and realizing her friend obviously didn’t want to discuss the Sterlings, she answered her question. Chuckling merrily Miranda said, “First off, he is no gentleman! Secondly, that is what troubles me the most. How could someone with so little manners, intrigue me so?”
“Ah, so you admit you are still thinking about him. I thought so.”
“As much as I hate to admit it. Yes. There is something about those sad green eyes of his that I am drawn to. There is something seriously wrong with me. A very available and most suitable gentleman, refined, educated, from a well-respected family like Thaddeus Honeycutt showers me with attention and I push him away. Yet, a man with such lack of regard for social graces as Gilbert O’Flaherty has just displayed, fascinates me.”
“Ah, he now fascinates you, does he? Pray tell, in which way?”
As Miranda prattled on, Felicity soaked in the sheer joy of conversing with someone her own age merrily without any demands on her or consumed with worry. Grateful to have Miranda with her, especially today when the strains of running the orphanage seemed greater than most, Felicity smiled lovingly at her friend. Feeling lighthearted again, she thought, God does work in mysterious ways.
Sketch as it appeared in “Harper’s Weekly” on May 13, 1865
Seven
Explosive Encounters
Temperatures soared on this unseasonably hot and muggy May evening while a fire blazed in the Honeycutt’s hearth. The room was stifling—heavy with the scent of burning wood—yet no one seemed to notice as they chatted amongst themselves. From bits and pieces of the conversation Miranda overheard, she knew Michael and her father were debating if it was actually Booth who had been killed as reported.
“For God’s sakes Lucas, who the hell else would it be then, if not Booth? Didn’t you read that among those who identified his corpse was a Dr. John Frederick May? The same doctor who had recently removed a tumor from his neck, and there was also his dentist who had pried open the corpse’s mouth to identify the two fillings Booth had prior to the assassination. Besides, what purpose would it serve the government to portray such an elaborate hoax by falsifying who the corpse was?” From her father’s anxious look, she knew it was more than the heat that was causing his face to redden.
“All I said was, if it really was Booth, then why the need to weight the poor son of a bitch and drop his remains in the Potomac?” Lucas demanded.
“Hog wash!” Michael tooted. “You know that was never confirmed. It’s just some hideous, ridiculous rumor, just like countless others circulating. Come on Lucas, next, will you be joining in with Booth’s followers that he wasn’t involved, when we both know that’s not true? Hell, we were in Washington, we heard eyewitness accounts ourselves.”
Trying to block out the two men’s heated debate, never wanting to think about that dreadful night again, Miranda gazed at the flames of the burning log that was enclosed behind two glass doors. Mesmerized by the reflection of the flickering blaze that danced across the panes of glass which contained the log, Miranda’s attention was diverted by the sounds of an occasional horse and buggy driving past the Honeycutt home.
The sound of hooves clicking upon the stone pavement combined with the reverberation of splashing water from the recent downpour of rain against the surface of the road felt soothing to her. Especially since she hadn’t been able to get Gilbert O’Flaherty off her mind, or what Felicity had said earlier about her being afraid to love someone. Could it be that she was incapable of loving a man? Miranda asked herself repeatedly.
Although she had flatly denied it earlier, she now wondered if it were possible. Feeling flushed, she gingerly patted her neck with a lace handkerchief, waiting anxiously for the arrival of Felicity and Benjamin. A sudden laughter from Lavinia and Vivian caused her to turn her attention in their direction. Pasting a superficial smile on her lips, she nodded politely to them while she surveyed the room filled with the usual guests that gathered nightly to share the day’s events with one another.
As she observed the Sterlings and Honeycutts from afar, Miranda was amused that they thought her too shy to mingle, and seemed not the least bit offended by her aloofness. Realizing Sarah was watching her, she returned a warm smile, but feeling another set of eyes on her, Miranda turned her head to avoid eye contact with Tad.
Noticing he was being detained by Michael, Miranda took the opportunity to escape his attention and head for the gardens. The sudden laughter from Lavinia and Mrs. Honeycutt rang out again, which had a sinister quality to it, and Miranda glanced at them as they b
usily chattered away like two magpies. Hmm … I wonder what dastardly deed those two are cooking up this time, she thought.
Judging by the watchful eye Lavinia had on James, Miranda assumed he must be the next victim to one of their endless schemes. Trying to be as discreet as possible, carefully holding onto both handles of the French doors that led to the side gardens, Miranda opened the door slowly, holding her breath as the door hinges squeaked.
Glancing back into the room to see if anyone else heard the door, she nodded to James, who had paused for an instance to return her gesture, quickly resuming his discussion with Alfred. Judging by the look on his face, he seemed to be anxious. My, this afternoon he was so pleasant … how peculiar, she thought, while hastily stepping into the garden and down a path of cobblestones between the lush ferns and hostas, escaping before Tad would see her.
After walking for several minutes, certain Felicity and Benjamin should be there by then, she headed back to the house. Much to her surprise, along the side fence leading back to the street, was Tad and Gilbert conversing with one another.
What a small world, she thought, while concealing herself behind a large overgrown lilac bush, straining to make out what was being discussed by the two of them. From her vantage point, she watched in fascination at Gilbert who leaned over a hedge. Although she couldn’t make out what he was saying, by the look on his face and by his demeanor, it was obvious he was upset, while Tad remained poised with a smirk on his face. What could these two men possibly have in common? She wished she could hear them.
Her heart quickened when she realized Gilbert was about to make his way back to his ice cart. Without stopping to think, Miranda stepped out from behind the bush, and said, “Good evening Mr. O’Flaherty. Still busy working, I see.”
“Why Miranda, there you are,” called Tad clearly surprised at seeing her. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. How is it you know someone like O’Flaherty here?” he asked suspiciously.
Politely she answered Tad, but her eyes were on Gilbert, hoping he would acknowledge her greeting. “We met while I was helping out at the orphanage today.”
This time, the angry man had a reply, and by the look of resentment on his face, Miranda braced herself for his wrath.
“Some of us work from sunup to sundown, not like those with money who were born with a silver spoon in their mouth, and help out.”
Angered and hurt by such a spiteful comment, Miranda felt the blood rush to her cheeks, while Tad retaliated with a snide comment of his own.
“O’Flaherty, watch your tongue when addressing a lady. Didn’t your mother ever teach you any manners? And you wonder why manual labor is for the likes of you ill-mannered thugs?” he exclaimed, a smirk on his face.
Finding Tad’s words incredibly rude and insensitive, Miranda spoke up in Gilbert’s defense. “How unkind of you to say such a thing, Tad. Why I’m sure Mr. O’Flaherty was merely pointing out that he works very hard.”
“That I do. And I don’t need the likes of you, or your kind, to do my bidding for me. I got a tongue of me own,” Gilbert retorted indignantly. From his reaction, Miranda knew she had hurt his pride and wished she hadn’t said anything, while Gilbert continued. “I’m not one of them wee children needin’ yer charity, lass. Kindly let me tend to me own affairs. Or don’t you have anything better to do with your time than buttin’ yer nose in where it don’t belong?”
Hurt pride or not, Miranda couldn’t believe how he had just insulted her again and was ready to say something when Gilbert turned his attention to Tad, his tone almost threatening.
“As fer you, leave me poor dead mother out of this, hear?”
Seeing the shocked look on Miranda’s face, while taking her by the elbow to escort her back into the dinner party, Tad said, “Grandmother will be ringing for dinner momentarily. Shall we go inside, my dear?”
“Dear?” Miranda whispered hoarsely.
Hearing her say “dear”, Gilbert shook his head in disgust, obviously mistaking her question as a term of endearment and began to walk back to his wagon, much to Miranda’s dismay. Completely outraged, not having a chance to respond either to Gilbert’s rudeness or to Tad by addressing her so familiar in public, she turned her anger on Tad, jerking free of his touch.
“How dare you refer to me as your ‘dear’? I’ve never given you any cause to think of me in that manner.”
“You’re absolutely right. Forgive my insolence. However, it served its purpose, now didn’t it? That low life won’t be bothering such a fine woman as yourself again.”
“Mr. Honeycutt, I’ll have you know I am more than capable of choosing whom I associate with in the future. I need no assistance from you.” She snarled at him, her eyes reflecting the anger she felt.
“Miranda… .”
Interrupting him, she snapped, “Miss Brown, if you please!”
Smiling smugly, as if ignoring her comment he said, “I’ve angered you, which was not my intent. As a guest in our home, I have a certain obligation to assure your safety. Especially from a man that can’t be trusted. The Irish are all alike—good-for-nothing drunks—that fight all day, gamble all night, and think the world owes them something. If it were up to me, along with half the nation, they would all be sent back from where they came.”
“Is that right? Well, Mr. Honeycutt, I am indeed a guest in your grandparents’ home that much is true; however, has it escaped you that I’m also considered as undesirable by some of your smug friends? As a matter of fact, as I recall, when I arrived here during the war, you yourself made no attempt to hide your contempt for me, simply because of my origin. So, should I assume then that you would prefer me to be sent home as well?”
“The truth finally surfaces at last! You’re still angry with me because I made comment of your family being slave owners, years ago. Surely after all this time Miranda, you can’t be holding a grudge over my curiosity?”
“Angry? No. I even understand you being curious. As you recall, I told you then, I too was curious coming to a Northerner’s home. However, your prejudices against those different from one of your upper-class snobs, I find particularly offensive. And so that we have no further misunderstandings, in the future, if you have an urge to make decisions for me, since it’s viewed by your class that Southerners are dimwitted, unable to make decisions wisely, and since I’m clearly a Southerner, kindly confine your attentions to someone who wants them, and is worthy of all your so-called superior knowledge. Now if you will excuse me, I’ll see if Mr. and Mrs. Myles have arrived yet.”
Turning on her heels, not giving Tad a chance to respond, Miranda rushed back to the house only to be angered further by Tad’s laughter.
Walking into the drawing room, she saw Felicity and Benjamin being joined by James. Much to her amazement, Lavinia went to greet them as well, gushing over Felicity and even welcoming Benjamin. From the suspicious look on Felicity’s face, Miranda knew she wasn’t the only one who wondered why the sudden change of heart from Mrs. Sterling. When James greeted them both by asking, “I was wondering if you were going to make it. Trouble at the school this afternoon?”
“Nothing we couldn’t handle. I do hope we didn’t detain anyone,” Benjamin said. Accepting James’s hand, the two men shook a hearty greeting. Then turning his attention to Felicity, James took her hand, kissing it politely. “Hello, Felicity. How good to see you again. My, you look tired this evening.”
Hearing him address her by her first name, Felicity politely responded accordingly.
“Good to see you too, James. It was a long day, and now I look forward to the company of adults, rather than children this evening.”
“Indeed! Well, we’ll try to make the evening enjoyable then. Won’t we, my dear?” Lavinia’s smile faded, hearing the familiarity in the conversation between the Myles’ and her husband. Glaring at Felicity, she thought, So now it’s James, is it? Why you little bitch.
Having little else to do but try to grin and bear this humiliation,
Lavinia said, “Why of course, darling. If you’ll excuse me.” Turning, she went to the fireplace while Miranda, Sarah and Michael greeted the Myles’ as well.
Hearing them carry on about how lovely the wedding had been, Lavinia felt sickened. Get a hold of yourself, Lavinia! She scolded herself, Or you’ll come across as a scorned alley cat rather than a poor helpless kitten. Glancing back at Felicity, who seemed to enjoy all the attention she was receiving, Lavinia shook her head. Well, I’ll give the bitch this much. She is a master at appearing sweet.
Trying to regain her composure, painting on a smile for the Myles’ benefit, Lavinia turned and faced the fireplace. Upon doing so, out peeked Alfred leaning away from where he was sitting, nestled in the high back Queen Anne chair.
“Why Mr. Honeycutt, I had no idea you were over here,” Lavinia cooed, trying not to sound surprised.
“Every now and then, I enjoy a good crackling fire. The flames are mesmerizing. Don’t you agree? The mystery of the fire so vibrant and alive, until it nearly consumes the log then dwindles away loosing its luster and power with nothing left but a non-menacing spark every now and then. Look there …” Alfred paused, gesturing at a small withering spark. “The flame trying to regain its strength but never quite achieves its youthful splendor. Ever notice that, my dear?” Alfred asked, while gazing at what was left of the fire with a smug look on his face.
Why you old coot … Instantly she knew he could see through her and felt suddenly sick to her stomach. Dear God, was she so transparent that she couldn’t even fool an old man any more?
Deciding she would not be intimidated by him, she played along with his little game. “Yes, but the fire does devour the log eventually.”
Alfred shrewdly turned to look at her again, his eyebrows arched. “Only if it goes undetected, or the log wishes to be consumed. I like to think that someone can always douse the flame with a little water if need be.”
Standing, he took a glass of water from a side table next to the chair then poured it dramatically over the flame with a snide grin. Turning to her, he said, “See, the fire is out. The wood is no longer threatened by the flame.”