Understanding Mercy

by Janelle Ashley

  “Yes. It’s a perfect hideout. I’ve used it for years. No one will ever find us here. Now we can live together just like you always wanted.”

  “But I don’t want that anymore Ian. I’m getting married…to someone else.”

  He stopped building the fire and turned and looked at her with a dark glint in his eyes that terrified her. “You are mine, Mercy. You know that. Do you think I would let you marry someone else?”

  “I used to be yours. I’m not anymore. I’m in love with someone else now.”

  “Who is it?” When she didn’t answer, he stepped closer and seethed, “Is it Berkeley?” When she still didn’t answer, he screamed, “Tell me.”

  Before he became completely unhinged, she nodded. “You need to let me go, Ian. What we had is over and I—”

  He lunged at her and began kissing her neck roughly while crying out, “No, it’s not over. Don’t say that. I told you once before that I would never give you up. Never.”

  She tried to squirm away, but her arms were still tied and her head felt as if it would literally explode at any moment. He ripped her nightgown open and in humiliation, she realized she could do nothing about it. His hands were everywhere and she knew her only hope was to try to reason with a man who didn’t even understand the concept of right and wrong. Against his plunging mouth, she begged, “Ian. Please stop. This is wrong. Rape is wrong.”

  “It’s only rape when you don’t want it too, but I know you do, no matter what you say.”

  “I don’t want you to do this. You have me tied up. I would stop you if I could.”

  “All those nights in your gazebo I stopped. All those years of taunting me and teasing me are over. I’ll have what I waited for so patiently.”

  Terror gripped her and clawed at her heart like talons and she called out, “Oh, God, please stop him. I beg of you to help me. Please God.”

  He pulled back and shook her shoulders violently. “Stop it! Even if there is a God, he doesn’t care about you. Call out to him all you want. It won’t stop me.”

  His rough hands jerked her down to the floor, and his body hovered over hers, as he ripped her nightgown the rest of the way. While continuing to kiss her neck, he fumbled with the buttons at his breeches. Sobs wracked her body as she begged, “Please don’t do this to me, Ian. Please. I beg of you not to do this.”

  A loud noise caused Ian to stop for a moment, and he looked toward the door and screamed, “Get out!”

  A slow, deep voice said smoothly, “Get off her, Magregor. Now.”

  “Oh, Addison,” she called out, “I knew you would come.”

  “Shut your mouth,” Ian screamed at her, near hysteria, then he turned and shrieked, “Get out or I’ll kill you.”

  “Do you realize we are the ones with the pistol?”

  Ian jerked Mercy to a standing position and suddenly he held a knife to her throat as he shouted, “Get out or I’ll kill her!”

  Shaking violently, Mercy pleaded, “Ian, just give up. You don’t want to kill me.”

  Ignoring her, he screamed again, “Get out!” Mercy watched as Addison glanced at Barry, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. In a flash, Addison lunged toward her and covered her body with his own as Barry pulled the trigger and a deafening boom rattled the windows. Her ears rang and she couldn’t breathe with Addison’s heavy body on top of her, and for several moments time stood still. Addison straightened his arms and pushed himself back, his eyes swimming in tears. “Did he hurt you?”

  “Nothing permanent.”

  He quickly untied her hands and then kissed the raw skin tenderly. “Oh, Mercy. I’m sorry. But it’s over now.” He grabbed a blanket from the chair and wrapped it around her and then covered her eyes as he helped her to stand. “Don’t look.” He swept her into his arms and carried her down the hall as he called out, “Barry, please clean up the mess and let me know when you are finished so we can come out.”

  “Certainly, sir.”

  Mercy buried her head in Addison’s chest, as she mumbled, “Thank you, Barry.”

  “Anytime,” he answered in his typical gruff way.

  Addison walked into the bedroom and shut the door behind him and softly kissed her face in near reverence. “Mercy. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost you.”

  “You didn’t. I’m here,” she murmured against his cheek. “Is Ian dead?”

  “Yes. He’s dead. I’m not sorry. If Barry had not shot him, we would have taken him back and he would have been hung anyway. At least he got to die in private without a cheering crowd.” Ian was gone. Forever. She felt bad for him, but she wasn’t sorry.

  Addison pulled away and stared at her temple and swollen eye and shuddered as he let out a soft groan. “Oh, baby, your face. Your poor face.”

  “Do I look awful?”

  “No, you look beautiful…just battered and bruised.”

  “External bruises heal. Sometimes faster than internal ones I think.” Worry creased her brow. “Do you think these bruises will heal by the wedding?”

  “In two months? Certainly they will.”

  “Well, that is good.” She looked up at him questioningly. “Addison, how did you ever find me?”

  “As deviously brilliant as Magregor could be, he was also quite stupid. The tracks of his horse in the snow led us right here. Did he think I wouldn’t follow?”

  Her eyes widened in fear and she asked with a gasp, “How is Daisy?”

  “She will be fine. She is a brave girl. Even though being half unconscious, she had the presence of mind to watch you leave on a horse, and then awaken Barry, who came and got me.”

  Unbelievably, Mercy’s lips turned up into a slight smile. “Oh, Addison. The last time we did this was just pretend. But now…but now it’s real. You are my real life dashing hero.”

  “I suppose I am. And look, I’m even wearing my black cape. Does that mean I get to kiss you ardently and passionately now?”

  “Please do.” He covered her mouth with his own, but his kisses were not ardent and passionate. Instead, they were sweet and achingly gentle. After all she’d just been through, she appreciated his tenderness. There was plenty of time for ardent and passionate kisses later. She could hardly wait.

  Understanding Mercy

  Understanding Mercy

  Chapter Seventeen

  Carrying a box of treats in her hand, Mercy strolled down the street with Daisy as the first of the cherry blossoms burst forth from the trees in much the same way that thankfulness burst forth from her heart. All her life she’d accompanied her mother when she brought treats to her husband. Now she had Addison to bring treats too. She imagined his face when she walked into his office. He would be thrilled to see her. Imagining his smile made her smile. Daisy patted her arm as they walked along. “Just two more weeks and you will no longer be Miss Creed, but Mrs. Berkeley.”

  “I know. And what about you? Mr. Seeger, the handsome blacksmith seems quite smitten with you. Perhaps you will soon be Mrs. Seeger.”

  “Perhaps.” She couldn’t contain her pleasure as she continued, “I hope so. He is going to ask your father if he can court me.”

  “And of course my father will say yes. He thinks of you as a daughter, you know.”

  “I know. That is why I told Mr. Seeger he needs to ask your father for permission.” Daisy reached up her hand and caught some falling blossoms and examined them. “Um…I got a letter from my real father, from Mr. Turner yesterday. Cordelia is getting married.”

  “Poor man.”

  Daisy giggled. “Yes, well, Mr. Turner says the man is a widower with two children and known as being a strong person who will not easily be wrapped around Cordelia’s finger. He is one of the richest men in the south, so Cordelia should be happy.”

  “I don’t know if I want her to be happy,” she replied, only half teasing.

  In her sweet way Daisy reprimanded, “Mercy, maybe Cordelia just needs to grow up. Hopefully she’s learned her lessons.”


  “Hopefully, but I doubt it.”

  “Do you pray for her?”

  “No. I do my best to forget about her.”

  “You should pray for her. The Bible tells us to pray for our enemies.”

  Mercy teased, “Oh why did I ever teach you to read. I could do without you giving me scriptures I don’t want to hear.”

  Daisy smiled. “Well, the Bible is not like a buffet where you can just take what you like and leave what you don’t. As I said, the Bible says we should pray for our enemies so therefore you should pray for Cordelia whether you want to or not.”

  “All right, all right. I’ll pray for her.” She stopped in front of Addison’s office.

  “Well, we are here.” She swung open the door to see the friendly face of Cecil Branson. “Good day. I brought these treats for Addison, but I know he won’t mind sharing them.” She placed a piece of cheesecake on his desk. “I got all his favorites.”

  “You can leave the box, and I might give him some when he returns,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

  “He isn’t here?”

  “No, he left a while ago. For the last few weeks, he leaves daily at two and comes back at about four.”

  “Where does he go?”

  “I have no idea. Your fiancé can be quite secretive.” A sick, uneasy feeling seeped through her, but she tried not to let it show. “Well, give the treats to Addison if any are left when he returns.”

  “Will do.”

  As she headed home, she tried to tamp down her feelings of distrust, but something wasn’t right. The night before when Addison had stopped by after work she could’ve sworn she smelled perfume on him. A strong, spicy scent. She had discounted it that maybe a perfume bottle broke in one of his shipments. But now in combination with this, it chafed at her. She heard that some wealthy men had mistresses. Oh, she didn’t want to think this way.

  Daisy’s voice interrupted her worrisome thoughts, “Are you upset about something, Mercy?”

  “No. I’m fine.” How she wanted that to be true.

  When Addison came over that night for dinner she greeted him at the door with a hug, and the strong, spicy smell of the perfume almost slapped her in the face. As casually as her pounding heart would allow, she asked, “So Addison, why do you smell like a woman’s perfume?”

  He laughed nervously and shrugged. “Do I?”

  “Yes, you do. A strong, spicy scent.”

  “I don’t know.” He looked a little embarrassed and she realized that he was nowhere near as good a liar as Ian. He quickly changed the subject. “Oh, thank you for the desserts you brought by today.”

  “You are welcome. Did Cecil leave any for you?”

  “Two.”

  “I brought six.”

  He laughed. “Well, that is just as good. I don’t want to look fat in my suit on our wedding day.” He pulled her against him and lowered his mouth to hers for a kiss. He spoke against her lips, “Which I’m eagerly anticipating.” He kissed her again, and she melted against him, loving the way she felt in his arms, yet wondering if she was again being deceived.

  She pulled her lips from his and asked, “Where were you when I came by today?”

  “Here and there. I had things to do.”

  “What type of things?”

  “Just things.”

  The words spilled out before she could stop them, “Are you involved with another woman?”

  He let out a harsh breath and frowned. “No, of course not. How can you ask me such a thing?”

  “I’m sorry. But you understand how important faithfulness is to me, don’t you? I know some women put up with affairs, but I’m not one of them. Unfaithfulness would be a deal breaker for me.”

  “Yes, of course, sweetheart. How could you think I would ever want to be with anyone else?” He pulled her to him and with great skill assured her in words and kisses. But she’d been through this before.

  That night she hardly slept and she decided if she was being deceived again she wouldn’t just sit back and be stupid this time. Right after lunch, she slipped out of the house and made her way down to the docks and waited outside Addison’s office. She knew it must be almost two o’clock and she hid behind a building as she watched his front door. A few minutes later, the door swung open and he stood on the front stoop as he adjusted his gloves. What a glorious looking man. No doubt he had woman throwing themselves at him every day and she just could not be with him if she couldn’t trust him. Living with a man who you knew was involved with other women would be torturous. She would rather be a spinster than to be in a marriage like that. Better to be alone than to wish you were.

  Addison happily walked down the street, whistling a tune and she noticed how almost everyone stared at him in awe as he passed. Hopefully, he was just going shopping, or to a meeting, or something else innocent. She followed from a distance for a least a half a mile until he made his way up the steps of a charming little house, and walked right in the front door without even knocking. What on earth could he be doing here? Pain gripped at her heart as she came up with only one explanation. But she had to catch him. She knew how charming men twisted things around until you thought you were the crazy one. Addison could make up some story unless she caught him.

  The most horrendous, torturous, ten minutes passed until she walked up the steps of the little home and followed him inside. She tiptoed around downstairs, but sure enough, he wasn’t there. He’d gone upstairs. Quietly, she made her way up the steps until she heard laughing coming from behind a closed door. She heard Addison’s lighthearted voice tease, “ Revenez ici. ” She knew enough French to know he said, “Get back over here,” and then she heard a female voice laugh and say, “ Mais vous êtes si mauvais ,” followed by more laughter. Merci knew that meant, “But you are so bad.”

  In anguish, she placed her ear against the door and heard a steady thumping sound and quiet murmurings. She’d felt pain before many times in her life, but nothing quite like this. Addison had promised her she could trust him. He promised. Hot and angry tears streamed down her face and she turned to leave. She would never trust again. Never. She would remain a spinster. A bitter spinster. She got halfway down the stairs and stopped. No. As humiliating as this was, she needed to catch him.

  With dread, she walked back up the stairs. Placing her hand on the doorknob, she took a deep breath to steady herself and pushed open the door and stepped inside. But what she saw was not what she expected. An old white haired man stood in the middle of the room pounding a stick on the floor to keep time, while Addison held hands with an old, white haired woman as she taught him the steps of the Virginia reel. Addison stopped and stared at her in shock. He shook his head in confusion, “Mercy, what are you doing here? Did Cecil tell you where I was? He weaseled it out of me this morning.”

  With a trembling voice, she squeaked out, “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m learning how to dance. I wanted to surprise you and dance with you at our wedding reception.” He gave a one shouldered shrug. “Oh, well. So much for surprises. Get over here and help me learn. According to Mr. and Mrs. Marseille here, I’m completely hopeless.”

  With a laugh, Mrs. Marseille corrected in heavily accented French, “I said you were quite hopeless. Not completely. There is a difference.”

  He laughed as well. “Oh, thank you for the encouragement, Mrs. Marseille. I feel much better.” Addison walked toward Mercy and his laughter died away. He leaned in and said quietly, “Mercy you are so pale. Have you been crying? What is wrong?”

  Slowly, she shook her head. “Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Everything is right. Perfectly, wonderfully right.” Placing her hand on his face, she gazed up and whispered, “Do you know how much I love you?”

  “From the look in your eyes, I would say quite a bit. But the question is do you know how much I love you?”

  She scrunched up her nose, as she titled her head. “Quite a bit?”

  “I love yo
u with all of my heart and soul and everything that is within me. I love you, and only you , for the rest of my life. Don’t ever doubt that.”

  “I won’t. I won’t doubt it again.”

  “Good. Then come and teach your clumsy fiancé how to dance. You once promised me that if I learned, you would dance with me. I’m holding you to it.” She smiled at him as he led her to the dance floor and her heart burst with thankfulness to God that this amazing man belonged to her.