The last picture was dated February 15, 1945. There were only two people in the picture, Jerod and Augusta. Jerod was in an Army aviator’s uniform and he had his arm around Augusta. They were at a train station. The trees were bare of leaves. Augusta was dressed in pants and a warm-looking coat and she was turned sideways to the camera. The coat did not hide the slight bump in her tummy. Randall knew what it was.
Jerod’s baby...
He put down the pictures and picked up the letters. They were in a bundle held together with a rubber band. Randall slipped off the band and started scanning through them. One letter caught his attention. It was a letter addressed to Augusta but there were two letters inside. Randall pulled them out. The first one was from Augusta to Robert. It was dated December 15, 1944. Randall read it.
My Dearest Robert,
It’s been a month since you left to manage your father’s factory in Lancaster, and I haven’t heard a word from you. I am writing because there is something I must tell you, Robert. I am six weeks pregnant with your child and I am so happy. After our night together, I fell in love with you, deeply and truly. I know it is yours because, believe it or not, I have never been with Jerod. If you will only come home to me, we can be together. I want to be with you always. I know we can work it out with Jerod, he will understand that we are truly in love and won’t stand in our way. He’s a good kid. Please come home.
Yours forever,
Augusta
Randall stared down at the letter.
Not Jerod’s baby, Robert’s baby! My, my, this is getting very interesting!
Randall unfolded the second letter in the envelope. He could see that at one time it had been crumpled and torn in two, then carefully smoothed out and taped back together. There were small, discolored spots on it. Randall was curious and then he realized what they were.
Tear stains!
The letter was dated December 23, 1944. It had been sent from Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Randall read on.
Augusta,
I received your letter and I need to say a few things in response. The truth is, Augusta, our night together was a huge mistake on my part. I was drunk and if you are honest you will admit that you lured me up to your apartment and made yourself very available. I never would have done such a terrible thing to my brother if I had been in my right mind. He loves you with all his heart. I have done him a terrible wrong, and I am filled with remorse.
I don’t want to seem cold, but I don’t really believe your claim that you have never been with Jerod. He is totally in love with you and has hinted many times that the two of you were involved in more than just a friendship. So it is difficult for me to believe that I am the father of your child. If you need anything, money, or help or support for the baby, I am willing to do that, but I cannot marry you, because I do not love you.
I’m very sorry,
Robert
Randall stared down at the letters.
Not the Christmas present Augusta expected, I’ll wager.
The story unfolding in the letters was almost too incredible to believe. Jenny Hershberger and Francis St. Clair were siblings. They had different mothers, but Robert St. Clair was their father. That meant that Rachel and Gerald were half-first cousins. He thought about the intricacies of their relationship and then shook his head.
Randall put down the letters and picked up the diary. Another twist with the lock pick and the book lay open before him. The flyleaf had the name: Francine Bosnan at the top. And then below that, another name: Augusta Moukhransky. Shoved in between the flyleaf and the first page were several pictures. Someone had drawn an X through all the faces, but Randall could still see them. They were of Robert St. Clair and a beautiful, dark-haired girl. A small baby was in Robert’s arms. Randall turned the top picture over. On the back was an inscription.
Dad, this is Rachel, my wife, and your granddaughter, Jenny. Rachel is such a wonderful wife and mother and Jenny is such a delightful little girl. I know you’d love them if you would just meet them. Won’t you relent and let us come see you?
Robert had signed the note. Randall shook his head.
So Augusta already knew who Rachel and Jenny were when they came to the house in 1950. She lied to me!
He leafed through more pages. The first part of the book was filled with girlish ramblings about finding a wealthy, handsome husband and leaving the Bronx and then, several pages in, there was an entry titled, “The Big Day”. Francine was leaving the Bronx and her middle class status behind her forever, moving to New York and changing her name so she would be able to meet the right people. She had chosen the name Augusta Moukhransky.
Randall smiled.
Smart girl! Moukhransky is the name of a branch of the Russian imperial family. Her new background couldn’t really be investigated because the Bolsheviks killed all the Romanovs. She did her homework and she arrived in New York with an exotic name, a mysterious but fabricated family background, and a beautiful face. She probably took the town by storm.
Indeed, she had, as the diary soon revealed. Within a month after arriving in the Big Apple, she met Jerod St. Clair at a USO dance in Manhattan in 1944 and began dating him. Randall read the entry.
July 15, 1944
USO Dance at the Stage Door Canteen. The Andrews Sisters were performing. I met a charming young man, Jerod St. Clair, and he was very attentive. My friend, Cecelia, told me that he comes from one of the richest families in America. I guess I don’t have to look much further.
There were several entries after that detailing a whirlwind romance with Jerod St. Clair. Augusta was careful to point out that she was not in love with Jerod, but she certainly appreciated his money and the idea of marriage to the young man was certainly worth considering, despite the lack of feeling on her part.
And then Randall read an entry that was underlined in red.
August 15, 1944
Jerod has invited me to spend a week at his family’s vacation compound at Martha’s Vineyard!!!! This is the most exciting thing that has happened to me, ever! I’m sure Jerod is going to propose while we are there. We are leaving tomorrow and taking the train. I have so much to pack.
Followed by a very interesting entry two days later...
August 17, 1944
Yesterday, we took the train to Boston and then the Cape Flyer out to Woods Hole. From there we transferred to the ferry to Martha’s Vineyard. And then the most amazing thing happened. When we arrived at Martha’s Vineyard, Jerod’s older brother, Robert, was waiting for us with a car. Robert is wonderful!!! He’s taller than Jerod and has bright red hair and the handsomest face I have ever seen. As soon as I saw him, I actually started sweating and my heart pounded. I guess I fell in love with Robert at first sight. What am I going to do? Jerod is going to propose, I know he is, but Robert, oh, Robert! I have to be with him. I have to be careful with Jerod, though. He’s madly in love with me. If I don’t play my cards right, I could lose both of them and be back where I started. But I won’t back down. I’ll just put Jerod off until I know where I stand with Robert. One of the St. Clair boys is going to marry me. I’d prefer that it be Robert, but I’ll take Jerod in a pinch.
The plan of seduction unfolded on page after page until Augusta found a way. Randall smiled as he read of Augusta’s conquest.
October 22, 1944
Last night I was with Robert. We were all supposed to go out to dinner, but Jerod got sick, so he made Robert take me to the Stork Club anyway. It was a cold night and after dinner I invited Robert up to my apartment for a drink. After I plied him with some really good champagne, I turned on the charm and Robert couldn’t resist me. It was wonderful! But it didn’t work out exactly the way I planned.
There was much more to the entry, but Randall closed the book and pushed the knob on his wristwatch. The dim glow showed him the time.
My, how time flies when you’re having fun! I’ll get to this later but now I’ve got to finish up and get out of here!
Ran
dall pulled a tiny camera out of his pocket, laid the diary down on the table, and quickly began taking pictures of all the pages. When he had photographed everything, he scanned through the notebooks. He photographed anything that looked interesting. At one point, he came across a list of negotiable securities that were being held at a local bank.
Nice! Over a million dollars’ worth!
He snapped a picture of the list. When he was finished, he carefully put everything back in the order he had taken it out, closed the drawer, and locked it. Then, after looking around to see that everything was in order, he turned off the light, left the vault, and locked the safe. He checked everything to make sure it was back in place, opened the curtains in the office, and exited the room.
He slipped down the hallway, went out the door, put on his overshoes, and went back down the path. As he walked, he patted the camera in his pocket.
I’ve got you, Augusta. I’ve really got you now.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Diary
Back in his room, Randall opened the camera and removed the flash card. He put it into the memory card player, lifted up the small screen, and began to go through the material he had photographed in Augusta’s office.
Digital cameras! Who would have believed it—you have to hand it to those Japanese. It makes you wonder who really lost World War II...
Randall opened the slides he had taken of the journal and flipped to the entry about Robert and Augusta. He began reading where he had left off and kept on reading. After a while, he whistled softly. The story read like a television soap opera.
Augusta, Augusta! So you had to fall back to plan B, after all. You are a very naughty girl...
October 22, 1944
Last night I was with Robert...but it didn’t work out exactly the way I planned...
Augusta stirred. The bed was warm against the October chill of New York City. She pulled the covers up around her shoulders and snuggled down. From outside her window, the sound of brazen taxi horns and buses grinding their gears filtered up from the parade of traffic passing down 5th Avenue.
Augusta listened to the sounds of the city for a moment. Then, reaching out her arms, she turned to the place next to her in the bed, but there was no one there. The spot where Robert had slept was empty. Augusta raised herself up on her elbow and looked around her bedroom. The clock next to her on the bed stand said eleven. Bright sunlight streamed in the opened window blinds. Augusta stretched like a cat and lay back down. Memories and images from the night before flooded her mind with delight. Robert! Oh, Robert!
“Robert?”
There was no answer. Augusta called out a little louder.
“Robert?”
The silence in the apartment was deafening. Augusta got up, grabbed her silken robe off the chair next to the bed, and slipped it on. She remembered the look on Robert’s face when she had taken it off the night before.
You’ve got the goods, girl! There’s not a man in this city that could stay out of your bed if you really wanted him to be there!
The hardwood floor was cold against her feet as she padded to the closet and got her slippers. Then she went out into the living room. There was nobody there. She went to the front door of the apartment, opened it, and looked up and down the hallway. The morning New York Times was in front of her door. She picked it up. The headline blared at her.
MACARTHUR IN PHILIPPINES! HUGE YANK ARMY SWARMS ASHORE, CAPTURES CAPITAL OF LEYTE ISLE!
Augusta went back into the apartment. She dropped the paper on the coffee table and then looked around again. Where was Robert?
“Robert?”
She walked into the dining room and then into the small kitchenette. Robert St. Clair was gone! She glanced down and saw a note lying on the kitchen table. She grabbed it and read it.
Augusta,
I am very remorseful this morning about what happened last night. I have betrayed my brother and I feel like a lowdown heel. I am leaving for Pennsylvania tomorrow to take over my father’s factory there. It will be a good thing. I want to be as far away from you as I can. You are a beautiful woman, and hard to resist, but I have made up my mind that last night will never happen again. Please don’t try to contact me.
Robert
Augusta crumpled up the note and hurled it against the kitchen wall.
“That’s what you think, Robert St. Clair! That’s what you think!”
December 24, 1944
It was the day before Christmas, two months later. Outside her apartment window snow was falling lightly, filling the streets with a soft whiteness that matched the season. The sidewalks of uptown New York were filled with revelers, and Christmas music came from the department store across the street as people dashed in to do their last-minute shopping. Augusta sat at the kitchen table, her lovely face a stony mask. Tears ran from her eyes and fell upon the letter spread out in front of her. The news it contained was not good. Robert wasn’t coming home. Robert didn’t love her.
She sat for a long time in the dark room. Finally, her instinct for self-preservation took over. She folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. There was another letter with it. It was the one she had sent to Robert, telling him she was pregnant. He had sent it back to her along with his letter. Augusta rose slowly and went to the telephone sitting on the small desk in the living room. She dialed a number and waited. Finally, a voice answered. It was Jerod St. Clair. Augusta smiled faintly and then, working up a slight sob in her voice, began to speak.
“Jerod? Oh, hello, darling. Listen, I...I need to talk to you. Yes, I know we were going out tonight, but there is something I need to tell you and it can’t wait. Can you come over early?”
She waited a moment until Jerod answered.
“All right, darling, I suppose I can wait until then. But come as early as you can. It’s very important. Yes, dearest, I’ll see you at five.”
Augusta hung up the phone and smiled. Jerod was on his way. She went into the bedroom. She went to the closet and got the small box down from the top shelf. She opened it and put the letters on top of the diary inside. She closed the box and set it back on the shelf. Then she began to look through her clothes.
Hmmm, what shall I wear to bait the trap?
She looked through several dresses but passed over them.
Too hot, too naughty, too revealing... Wait, here’s what I need.
She pulled the white dress from the closet and held it up in front of her as she looked in the mirror. It was modest, came below her knees and the neckline was high. Her long, blonde hair and her stunning figure would make her look like a Christmas angel in the dress.
Perfect! The innocent virgin, all in white, confesses her sin. If Jerod doesn’t fall on his knees and beg me to marry him, then I am not the girl I think I am.
By five o’clock, Augusta was ready. She had put on just the tiniest bit of makeup because she wanted her face to look pale. Her long, blonde hair framed her lovely face and the white dress was exactly right. At five minutes after five, the doorbell rang.
We’ll train the young man to be more prompt after we are married, won’t we?
Augusta went to the door and opened it a crack. Jerod St. Clair stood in the hallway, an anxious look on his face. Augusta opened the door and the young man quickly came inside.
“I’m sorry I’m late, Augusta. Traffic was terrible.”
Augusta managed a wan smile. “It’s...it’s all right, darling. I...”
And then she burst into tears.
Jerod stood for a moment and then took the sobbing girl into his arms. “Why, Augusta, what’s wrong?”
“I’m so ashamed, Jerod. We should have been more careful...”
“More careful?”
Augusta pulled Jerod inside and closed the door. She leaned against the door, took a deep breath, and then turned to Jerod. Everything depended on what she said next. “Yes, more careful.”
She paused and then put her face in her hands and began
sobbing again. The words came out in a broken rush. “I’m...I’m...pregnant, Jerod.”
Jerod’s face was a study in bewilderment. “Pregnant? But when...how? We never...”
Augusta pulled away and looked at him, trembling. “You don’t remember?”
Now Jerod really looked confused. “Remember?”
Augusta turned her back and began reciting the story she had gone over and over in her mind before he arrived. Her voice was pitched with just the right combination of sultriness and shame. “It was in October. We went to the theater and then to the Stork Club. We were both a little tipsy when you brought me home and you fell asleep on the couch and stayed until the next morning?”
Jerod smiled and looked embarrassed. “Yes, I remember. I made rather a fool of myself, didn’t I?”
“Well, the truth is, Jerod, you didn’t stay asleep the whole time.”
“I didn’t?”
Augusta changed her voice intonation to that of an innocent virgin. She turned back to Jerod and put her arms around his neck. “No, you did not. In the middle of the night you came into my bed. I was so sleepy that I didn’t realize what was happening until you were kissing me.”
She moved up close to him, very close. “You were so strong, so wonderful, I...I couldn’t resist you. We made...”
Jerod looked into her wonderful eyes and Augusta knew she had won. Jerod’s face flushed red and then white. “We did? And you got...well, in a family way?”
“Yes, dearest. And now I don’t know what to do.”
The Amish Heiress (The Paradise Chronicles Book 1) Page 21