by Jerri Hines
Ian was dying. The doctors warned he hadn’t much longer. Wasting no time after her discovery, she was rushed to his side at Lyon’s Main, Ian’s family home.
“We prayed you would be found. Thank the good Lord, Ian will see you.” Esther hurried into the room. “You must have so many questions, but for now it’s important only he knows you are safe. He is ready.”
Rebekah nodded. She spoke no words, but followed the woman in front of her. A short woman, Esther Daventry wasn’t a handsome woman by any measure: her nose too pointy, her chin too long, her eyes were small and squinted when she looked closely at an object, but there was kindness in those eyes.
“Come,” Esther urged. “Ian has wanted only to see you.”
“Thank you for your kindness,” Rebekah said. Reaching for the woman’s hand, she squeezed it tightly. “I know you have yourself suffered a loss.”
“One that was of his own making,” she responded without emotion. Her hand reached over and tucked a stray strand of hair out of Rebekah’s face. “Come. I believe that Pierce is telling Ian you have been found. Be prepared though, my dear. Find strength in the knowledge he hasn’t rested since you disappeared and will do so now.”
Esther heaved a heavy sigh and choked back tears of her own. She forced a smile and gestured Rebekah forward through the foyer. The grandfather clock chimed nine o’clock as Rebekah ascended the winding staircase toward a series of bedrooms.
Rebekah fought back a wave of nausea. She could never remember feeling worse. She hadn’t slept but for a few minutes over the last day. She steadfastly refused to talk to anyone other than Daniel. She cried at any mention of questions, which at this moment kept them from her.
Esther led Rebekah to a closed door. Rapping lightly, Esther opened the door for Rebekah to enter. Immediately her eyes fell on her friend. Oh, my God! So thin and pale. So frail, so terribly frail. His eyes sank deep into his hollow face. He sat in a long chair, resting his eyes.
Not waiting for an invitation, she hastened to his side and fell on her knees.
“Ian,” she said softly. “Ian. It is me, Rebekah.”
His eyes opened and a slight smile appeared. His chest heaved with great effort. She grasped his hands, his cold, oh, so cold hands. She gazed up into his eyes.
"Ian, I’m so confused. It makes no sense. And you…your health." She choked to get her breath.
"I have worried so about you. You don’t know. It is all my fault. All my fault!” He made an effort to stand, but his breathing became labored. Rebekah's hand pressed him to sit. Gasping for air, his man, Jasper, rushed forward.
The elderly Negro man placed his hand gently on his master’s shoulder. The gentle soul of the aging man had been Ian’s companion since childhood, long before Rebekah had known Ian. "Take a deep breath, Mr. Ian. Easy. She is here. Calm yourself."
Rebekah's heart beat frantically. "Oh, Ian, what have I done to you?" she cried. “If anything should happen to you…”
Ian’s gripped tightened on Rebekah's hands. "We both know it will. I want only to take care of you now." He paused, catching his breath. "I have been so worried." He gave a tender smile. "You look well...beautiful."
"To your eyes," she replied tearfully.
"No, you have color in your cheeks. Your hair. Even with all, it is better than being prisoner in your uncle’s house." He paused momentarily. "Forgive me, Rebekah. Forgive me."
"Whatever for?"
"This is my fault. All my fault."
"No, no. How could any of this be your fault? You have been my best friend when I had no one else."
"You don’t know…yet. Oh, my God, Rebekah, have you been harmed? Oh, Rebekah, I will never..."
"I am fine," her voice quivered. "It has all..." She wiped back her tears. “I have been confused...Oh, Ian, I don’t understand what has happened. Why me? Why was I abducted? Daniel keeps trying to tell me it was your brother …" Her hand covered her mouth, overcome with the undercurrents of emotions she had refused to feel.
His hand clutched his chest. Rebekah looked up at Jasper. Concern etched in her face, but Ian fended Jasper back from him.
"I have to say this. You have to know, Rebecca. I feared..." He let out his breath slowly. "I feared so much, Rebekah."
Jasper leaned down, helping his master with his words. "He hasn't slept since you disappeared. He has been so worried."
"I should have never let you go back that night. I should have insisted," Ian cleared his throat. "Layton found papers from my solicitor, Henry Peterson. He saw the changes..."
"Changes?"
"I wanted everything set. I wanted to give back to you what you have given me. My saving angel. You breathed life back into my world." He brought her hand to his lips, his cold lips. "I wanted to be able to leave this world knowing I made a difference..."
"Ssh...Ian. A difference in what?" She searched his eyes, trying to make sense of his words.
"Oh, Rebekah, I should have told you. We had it all planned, Katy and I. I wanted to surprise you. I have abhorred your situation with your uncle since it became known to me…what you agreed to when you came. Forgive me. I should have done all sooner, but I had to wait until I turned five and twenty. I had to have complete control.” Ian paused and began to hack. Jasper moved forward again, but Ian waved him off. “I wanted to take you away from all. Katy had picked out the most beautiful dress and I had Reverend Marshall readied…I wanted to marry you…to…”
Ian pressed his lips together, coughing a few more times. Jasper poured him a glass of water. Rebekah sat, stunned by his words. Ian swallowed another gulp before he continued. "The whole of the situation is my fault. It's all my fault..." The frail man began to hack again. "If I..."
"Ian, take care," a concerned voice rang out from behind Rebekah. She hadn’t even noticed that Cutler was in the room. He stepped forward. “You are going to have another spell."
"I have to tell her. She has to know…" Ian insisted, but his voice faltered. His hands shook. The next moment, his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped over.
“Ian!” Rebekah cried. The whole of his body shook. His lips were blue, as were his fingers. His touch was cold. Cutler took her gently by her shoulders and moved her to the side.
“Let me get him to a bed. Jasper, call for the doctor. Dr. Kerouac is downstairs," Cutler ordered.
Time had no meaning while Rebekah sat by Ian’s bed. She didn’t move from his side, but clung tightly to his hand, willing him to live. He lay so motionless and so quiet. His chest heaved heavily with every breath. Esther and Cutler waited with her in the deathly gloom encompassing the room.
The hush was broken only by the doctor. Dr. Kerouac sighed heavily after examining Ian once more. He walked toward Cutler and shook his head. “It’s only a matter of time.”
Rebekah swallowed back tears. Her best friend, the one who she had talked with hours on end about all, their dreams for that was all either had. One bound by a frail weakened body; the other by the ties of her family. Fate was cruel, teasing her so. Losing him all over again.
Ian’s eyes flickered. His face paled; his lips tried to move…to speak. She leaned over him. The dam of tears broke and flowed freely down her cheek.
"Ian, oh, Ian. Stay with me, please. You are all I have. Don't leave me..."
He whispered unintelligible words. Frustration driven, he reached up and tried to caress her face. She grasped his hand and held it against her cheek.
"Don't worry. I have taken care of everything..." he managed as he gasped for breath.
"Oh, Ian…I need you so.”
"Rebekah…" He grappled for words. "I never told you. I love you, my dear…dear friend. I want…you to live…" His hand lay limp in hers.
"No, no..." Rebekah cried. Her strength faded as she watched her friend’s life edge out of him. She fell on him, sobbing hysterically. She couldn’t be comforted, for there was no comfort to be found.
Chapter Six
A gray mist settle
d over the garden in the early morning light. Rebekah drew her shawl tight. She walked through the garden until she reached the edge of the riverbank. She didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to know Daniel wasn’t far behind her. If not Daniel, Paul…someone; she was never left alone.
Her thoughts churned in fretful turmoil. A new phase of her life had begun, but she had yet to wake from her nightmare. She ambled through the day in a trance; did as she was told. Restless sleep lent to rising before dawn and long, long walks.
Ian Cahill had been buried in his family burial plot at Lyon’s Main. Rebekah survived Ian’s funeral only with Esther and Katy at her side. Dear sweet Katy had made a brief appearance. Against her nature, Rebekah was certain, Katy did not press Rebekah on her whereabouts; warned no doubt, but Rebekah was grateful. She couldn’t deal with any prodding, not even from Katy. She was like an empty shell, drained of her strength, and senseless to an all-encompassing grief.
She could give no answers as she had none. Her mind felt slow and listless. Nothing made sense. Never had she been so safeguarded. Between Esther and Pierce Cutler she wanted for nothing, at least physically. Most important to Rebekah, she had not had to deal with her uncle.
Esther allowed no question to be asked of Rebekah. Rebekah marveled at the woman’s strength. The woman had lost her husband. By Esther’s own admission, her husband’s own actions caused his death, yet the shock would have been no less. Esther had three young sons’ welfare also on her shoulders.
Pierce Cutler had been successful in keeping the blunt of truth from surfacing. Layton Daventry’s death was attributed to Black Rory, but not Layton’s actions that facilitated the murder. No. That had been deemed best to keep quiet for Rebekah’s sake as well. To all the mourners, Rebekah was Ian’s fiancée, grieving his loss.
“It is a shame they weren’t able to marry,” Esther offered. “But Rebekah is family and will be always. She made him happy.”
Grasping slowly her situation, Rebekah understood only all Rory told her had been a lie. She hadn’t been abandoned—far from the truth. Not only had Ian lived, but had searched endlessly for her and paid a ransom for her safe return. In addition to Ian’s concern, Esther showed her letters from the Jenkins’ in Philadelphia offering help and support if needed on her disappearance. Her brothers hunted for clues and to her amazement her uncle offered a reward.
She feared that Pierce Cutler could not be put off much longer. He seemed intent on questioning her and quite interested in the sequence of events leading up to her abduction. He had not been satisfied with her vague answers.
Of what could she tell him! Guilt plagued her. Used as a pawn to inflict hurt! However, would she ever forgive herself? When she closed her eyes, Ian haunted her, his sweet face exclaiming his love for her as he lay dying. She hadn’t known he had planned to marry her…to rescue her. He wanted only to be a knight in shining armor to someone…to her. The thought of marriage had never occurred to her.
“Rebekah.”
She glanced back over her shoulder to see her brother walking toward her. God love him! Neither brother had left her. She nodded in acknowledgement and looked back over the river.
Daniel walked up to her side. “I wish you would tell me.”
“There is nothing to tell,” Rebekah said plainly. She turned to her brother and took his hand. “You worry too much. I am fine.”
“Rebekah…” Daniel paused, biting back words. “In time. When you are ready, I will listen.”
She swallowed hard and nodded slightly. Again, words caught in her throat were left unsaid. Daniel took her hand.
“I was sent out here to retrieve you, Bek.” Daniel spoke firmly. “Mrs. Daventry has sent for Mr. Cutler, but he’s here. Uncle Adam with his lawyer, Deane, Ralph Deane. He’s insistent that you come with him.”
A new terror ceased Rebekah. Her eyes widened; her voice tightened until she could only manage a whisper. “What do you mean Uncle Adam wants me to go with him?”
Daniel’s gaze lowered and shook his head. “Things have been kept from you, sister. For the best, we know…I know you have gone through more than you are telling us. No one wanted to press you. Wanted to give you time, but now Uncle Adam is claiming his rights as your guardian.”
“No, no, no. Don’t make me, Daniel. I can’t go back. I can’t,” she uttered frantically. “Help me. Don’t make me.”
“Then tell me, Bek. Tell me,” he pressed. “Do you not think I don’t know that you have been under some agreement with Uncle? I helped Ian with all that he had planned. We trod slowly and thought carefully, but somehow Layton Daventry discovered Ian’s scheme.”
“What are you talking of, Daniel?”
“What do you think I’m talking about, Bek? For God’s sake, come back to me! Don’t let everything Ian’s planned be destroyed by Uncle. Ian wanted to marry you to take you from Uncle’s clutches. Ian changed everything in his will for you. Everything goes to you. He didn’t even know whether you would be found or whether you would be alive, but he gave it all to you. That’s what he did for you!”
A gasp escaped her lips. Stunned, she suspected Ian left her a semblance to gain her independence; his last words enforced the sentiment he wanted her free from the bounds on her. “Why would Ian do that? Everything? What of Esther and the children?” she asked. Her voice faded into the breeze.
His brow furrowed, betraying his lack of patience. “It is complicated, sister. Ian came to the harsh realization that his brother was greatly in debt. Gambling debts, mounting daily. Ian refused to cover for him any longer. Mr. Cutler feels that Layton was driven to his extreme behavior because of those mounting gambling debts. Ian believed his brother would continue his behavior.
“That is the reason he left everything to you, but requested you care for Esther and the boys. He placed a tremendous amount of trust in you. He couldn’t chance Layton getting hold of the money. He never dreamed his brother would meet his demise before him. The complication came with Uncle and your guardianship. Ian requested your guardianship change to Pierce Cutler if your marriage couldn’t commence. For some reason Ian believed it would not be an issue, but it is. Bek, why would Ian think Uncle would relinquish your guardianship?”
“I…don’t know.”
Daniel would have none of it. He grabbed his sister’s shoulders and turned her to him. “You must. You have to. If not, Uncle will have control of Ian’s estate. You can rest assured that Mrs. Daventry and the boys will be turned out without a penny. And what will he do with you now? Uncle is furious to have been kept from you this long.”
“With you?”
Daniel shook his head. “No, he believes Paul and I are here to gather information for him. He doesn’t suspect I helped in this deception. The issue isn’t me, Rebekah. It’s you. Think! Why would Ian believe it would not be an issue? Why, Rebekah?”
Shaking her head, she couldn’t think. She broke from her brother. Closing her eyes, she needed to focus. Oh, what had Ian told her last fall before she left for Hyrne! She bought books from her uncle’s library for Ian to read. Collapsing her head into her hands, she didn’t know.
There wasn’t anything out of the norm except…except the diary. The old diary was written by her uncle’s grandmother, a sad glimpse into a life unfulfilled; married to a man the woman hated and feared. Ian had asked whether he could keep it. Wanted to research it further; interesting tale, he told her. Nothing…unless…
“Daniel.” She looked up at her brother as if a remembrance came back to her. “Do you know whether Ian left me anything here at Lyon’s Main? Did he bring something of mine here?”
“I don’t know, sister. The only thing I was concerned with was finding you. Oh, he talked of missing reading with you, I think. Something about one of the books you lent him. One he said wasn’t going to relent. He may have brought it with him. I don’t know. Is it important?”
“It could be; I’m not certain. I’m not certain. I know only I’m not leaving with tha
t man…ever!” She spun on her heels and headed back to the main house.
* * * *
Tension riddled the air. Rebekah recognized an imminent threat immediately on her entrance. Her uncle occupied a highback chair and looked straight at her with an air of confidence, his lips pursed as if resisting the urge to smirk. Noticing Rebekah’s awkward pose at the study door, he gestured for her to enter.
With the greatest reluctance, she did so. Glancing around the room, she saw her uncle had not come alone. An exceedingly pudgy and fair-haired man with a size too tight waistcoat stood behind her uncle’s chair and glared at her.
Across the room, Henry Peterson, Ian’s lawyer, sat behind a littered desk of papers. An elderly gentleman with thinning gray hair, he pushed back glasses falling from his nose. “Miss Morse, I’m sorry for the intrusion, but it was unavoidable I’m afraid. I could not push it off any longer. Your uncle…”
“Mr. Deane has already informed you I have no intention of being relieved of the duty to my niece." Adam Reed cut the man’s words off midsentence. His eyes narrowed. He stood and motioned for Rebekah to do the same. "Rebekah is my responsibility. I believe Mr. Deane concurs I have been extremely lenient—letting Rebekah stay here because of the circumstance—but we will leave immediately. Any dealings with the estate will go through me.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Reed.” Peterson cleared his throat sharply. Pushing his spectacles up on his forehead, he massaged the bridge of his nose. “There are issues that have to be settled and finalized for the best interest of everyone. Mr. Cutler…”
“Is not required to be here,” her uncle said abruptly. “Any other legal matters will be dealt through my lawyer.”
“No, Uncle Adam. I won’t go with you.”
The words resounded in the suddenly hushed room. All eyes fell on Rebekah. She gathered courage from an unknown source and stepped forward.
“You made it plain to me before I was abducted, you wanted nothing more to do with me. If not…”
Adam Reed flung up a hand to halt her. “Rebekah, you are confused with all that has happened to you. Nothing, though, changes the fact that you are my ward,” he admonished her. “We will leave immediately. I will have your personal effects sent to Hyrne.”