For the first time, I saw why Calvin envied Cade, why his dislike was so palpable. At every turn, it seemed Cade was chosen over him.
“Amelia and Calvin married against her parents’ wishes, and Calvin lavished her with all the things her parents had not expected him to be able to give her. Despite the costs, he determined to make her life as grand as possible. We fought over their expenditures constantly, and the last day of her life, we came to blows in the courtyard.”
“Oh, my.”
“We were young and hotheaded, and neither of us cared about anything but proving our point.” He stood up and moved to the window. “By the time we stopped fighting, she was gone. Once I cooled down, I felt badly about the things I said, and I wanted to apologize, but she was nowhere to be found. We searched for her and I happened upon her at the top of the lighthouse. She was hysterical, and I tried to calm her, but she climbed up on the railing.”
He dug a long-fingered hand through his dark hair and breathed deeply. “I tried to stop her. I moved closer, praying she wouldn’t notice, praying I could catch her and pull her down to safety. But she was so determined, so quick. I tried to reach her, but all I caught was the edge of her petticoat. When I came down, Calvin was there beside her body and I held nothing but a bit of white satin in my hand.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Cade. Mr. Calvin is demanding your presence downstairs immediately,” Mrs. Hartley said from the doorway.
“It seems I’ve become a suspect in yet another murder,” he explained, his eyes and face expressionless. “I assume it’s time for me to answer a few questions.”
Chapter Fifteen
Despite Cade’s inexplicable acceptance of their suspicion, my own mind and heart refused to accept that he could be responsible for one death, much less three, and my resolve to prove his innocence strengthened. For the first time in years, hope for the future beat in my chest, and I longed to believe that Cade and I would face that future together.
The days were quickly passing, however, and a week from now Cade would be taken to the jail to await his trial for Desi’s murder. It would be a very brief trial, based on what everyone considered to be an open-and-shut case, and in all likelihood it would end with Cade’s hanging. A cold empty pit formed in my stomach at the thought, and I groaned in frustration.
I could not stand idly by and watch Cade die for a crime I knew in my heart he didn’t commit. If no one else cared enough to look for another explanation for Desdemona’s death, then it was up to me, and I had decided that my first contact should be with Devlin. He was obviously key to my understanding Desdemona’s death, as well as to the life she’d lived here at Almenara.
Dory entered the room just as I finished lacing up my walking boots.
“Good afternoon,” I said as she bobbed a curtsy and began to clear our lunch away.
“Afternoon, miss. Mister Cade said you were to rest for the rest of the afternoon. You already went against the doctor’s orders going to church this morning.”
“To my knowledge, sitting in church has never done a body any harm, Dory,” I told her as I finished with my shoes. I ignored the dull pain the motion of standing caused my body, and, smoothing my hand over my skirts, I shrugged nonchalantly. “Cade must have misunderstood. I feel fine this afternoon, and I’ve decided to go for a little walk.”
“I suppose a stroll around the garden wouldn’t hurt you,” she said. “It’s a pretty day, and there’s benches around, should you get tired. Would you like me to fetch Mr. Cade? His meeting with the others is over, and he might like to accompany you.”
“No!” My voice was much sharper than I intended, and I offered her a reassuring smile. “I think I may walk a little farther than the garden, and I’m sure Cade has enough to keep him busy today.”
“Do you plan to take quite a long walk, then?”
“I don’t know. That’s what I need you to tell me.”
“What?” she asked cautiously, looking at me as if I were an escaped lunatic she wasn’t quite sure how to handle.
“Do you have any idea where I might find Devlin?”
“Devlin, miss?”
“Yes, the man who painted the picture in Desdemona’s parlor. The man who interrupted her funeral. Does he live nearby?”
“I don’t know, miss. He stayed here when he was painting. After him and Mr. Calvin had it out, he left.”
“Calvin?” I repeated. Did that man drive everyone to fisticuffs?
“I wasn’t there to witness it, but according to my brother, Mr. Calvin beat the living daylights out of Devlin and sent him packing.”
“And you haven’t any idea where he went after that?”
“No, miss.” Dory shook her head for good measure, but I knew her answer was far from true.
Turning her back to me, she began to fuss with the lunch leftovers. I said nothing as I pinned my bonnet in place and pulled on my gloves.
“Well then, I’ll find him myself. Have a good afternoon, Dory.”
As I’d hoped it would, Dory’s characteristic candor won out before I could pull the door open.
“There’s a cabin beyond the cemetery and lighthouse, miss, but you shouldn’t go there. Mr. Cade won’t like it a bit.”
“Thank you, Dory.”
“If you give me a note, I’ll have Donald, my brother, take it there. He’ll deliver a message to Devlin for you. You can have that man meet you somewhere in the village.” She wrung her hands, twisting them together nervously as she second-guessed the wisdom of giving me the information. “Please, miss. Mr. Cade will be furious if you go.”
I had no desire to anger Cade or cause Dory any trouble, but I didn’t want to meet Devlin in the village. I didn’t want to wait, and I didn’t want to risk Cade finding out I was attempting to talk to him.
“Perhaps that would be a better idea,” I agreed, although I had no intention of letting go of my original plan.
“So, you’ll write a note for Donald to deliver?” she asked hopefully.
“I’ll think about it.” I’d always had difficulty lying, and with Dory’s relief so evident, I found it impossible to tell her an outright lie. I would think about it as I walked, and perhaps I would change my mind about going to see Devlin unannounced. I doubted it, but there was always a chance.
I slipped down the backstairs through the kitchen, knowing that if I ran into Cade I’d have a battle on my hands. He wouldn’t agree with my assessment of the doctor’s orders. He appeared to think the doctor had ordered a healthy dose of laudanum every few hours and several days in bed, while I chose to interpret the doctor’s orders to mean that treatment depended upon how I felt. Truthfully, my body protested every movement, but I couldn’t rest until I’d spoken to Devlin.
Following the narrow road we’d taken the day of Desi’s funeral, I skirted the village and went up to the hill where the church and cemetery were perched. I was through the churchyard and opening the gate to the cemetery when I heard Nellie Arnold call to me.
“Yoo-hoo, Ophelia!” She was hurrying across the yard from the parsonage behind the church, and I cursed myself for not thinking to avoid it. Dressed in the loose pink confection of billowing ruffles and rosettes she’d been wearing at the service this morning, Nellie was so far removed from any pastor’s wife I had ever known as to be almost comical.
I wondered if my own mother had been more like Nellie or the quiet, staid women my father’s colleagues had wed. My father had rarely spoken of her, so what I knew of her had come piecemeal from that little he’d said, Mrs. Dupree’s barely concealed contempt of her, and the names she’d bestowed on her daughters. Something about Nellie reminded me of the picture those scraps of information had formed for me, and I wondered if this was why I found myself so drawn to the woman.
I met Nellie halfway across her yard, but she was still panting from exertion as she sank to the bench beneath a large shade tree. She chuckled and fanned herself with her hand.
“I’ve become a great lug, out of
breath at even the smallest movement.” When she’d caught her breath, she looked at me intently. “How are you? We heard about your fall yesterday. I must say I’m surprised to see you up and about so soon.”
“I’m feeling fine and saw no reason to lie about all day. That isn’t something I’m used to doing.”
“No, of course not. With midnight births and break-of-dawn final passages, short nights and early mornings are the normal way of things for women who care for men of the cloth. My James tries to sneak out without waking me, but I’m a light sleeper, so he doesn’t often succeed.”
“My father made people feel so welcome in our home we often had visitors well into the night. Prayer services could extend until the wee hours of the morning or begin hours before daylight. Since I was the hostess, it was up to me to make everyone comfortable for as long as they were there.”
“Didn’t you share those duties with your sister?”
“No, Desi never took to domestic or pastoral skills like I did.”
“So, you were Martha and she was Mary? You were busy working while she was worshiping?”
“To be honest, except for her mandatory attendance at church services, she never really took to that aspect of our lives either.”
“So what did she do?”
“If it was the middle of the night, she stayed in bed. If it was daytime, she went to our room, took a walk, or went into town.”
“She shared your faith, though?”
“I really don’t know.” I was ashamed to admit the truth. I had regularly spoken to my father’s parishioners about their faith, but it had been many years since I spoke to Desi of such things. As I remembered those long-ago conversations, I couldn’t say for sure whether Desi had really believed as I did or not.
Nellie placed a comforting hand on my arm. “She was raised in church, Ophelia. She sat through your father’s sermons the same as you. No matter about the years in between, she had that knowledge of the Lord, and we can only hope that she called on Him at the end.”
Tears clogged my throat, and I nodded, unable to speak as I got control of my emotions.
“Were you headed up to visit her grave this afternoon? I apologize for detaining you, but James has been called away to attend to Mrs. Morgan. You wouldn’t have met her yet. She’s a dear old woman who’s facing her end days and wanted James there when she spoke to her children about her last wishes. Anyway, I was feeling a bit lonely, and I was thrilled to see you crossing the yard.”
“It’s no problem at all. I could use a friend myself. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, the residents of Almenara aren’t the friendliest bunch.”
She laughed. “I would say not. You must miss Desdemona terribly.”
“I do, but I have missed her for quite a long time now. Desdemona and I hadn’t spoken in years.”
“Oh, dear. I can’t imagine not speaking to my sister. Although we don’t see each other as often as I’d like, we are quite close even now. I can’t imagine what would tear us apart.”
As I had no explanation but the truth for our estrangement, I said nothing. I wasn’t sure whether Nellie realized my reticence or not, but I was grateful when she went ahead with our conversation.
“It’s easy to see that you and Desdemona were quite different. I can imagine that over the years, you disagreed on quite a few things. I’m sure you both had every intention of reconciling, and I’m sorry you never got that chance.”
Once again, I felt the prick of tears, and shook my head ruefully. “You say you’ve become a great lug, and I seem to have become a leaking spigot since my arrival.”
She laughed and patted my arm.
“Well, in the interest of my own transformation into a great lug, I must have some refreshment. I have an apple pie that should be cool by now. Would you care for some?”
I was about to refuse, but before I could, Devlin emerged from the woods just inside the cemetery fence. He still wore the cloak Lorraine had claimed was hers, his hair was ruffled and stood on end as if he habitually ran a hand through it, and I tried to reconcile him to the picture of a gentlemen that Cade had painted of him. It was nearly impossible for me to imagine him as Cade’s friend, much less my sister’s lover.
I stiffened as he neared, but Nellie pushed herself to her feet with a groan and smiled.
“Devlin, how nice to see you,” she said, holding her hands out to him. He took them in his and bent to kiss her cheek.
“Nellie, darling, you look lovely this morning.” His voice was low, cultured, and surprisingly sane. When he turned toward me, his face was illuminated by the bright morning sunlight, and I was once again aware of his masculine beauty. Blue eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he bowed at the waist. “Ophelia, it’s good to see you here. I have been hoping to speak with you.”
“We were just going in for some pie. Would you care to join us?” Nellie asked.
His eyes darted toward the road that led to the village and Almenara beyond it.
“Are you alone, Ophelia?”
“Yes, of course.” My stomach fluttered with nervousness at the thought of sitting across the table from him.
“Then, yes, I would love to join you.”
We followed Nellie into her cluttered kitchen. She pulled plates from the cabinet and asked me to cut the pie as she put the teakettle on to boil.
My hands shook slightly as I sliced through the pie, feeling Devlin’s eyes on me the entire time. Did he realize he was the cause of my nervousness? By the time we were all seated, I could do little more than pick at my pie as he continued his silent perusal. Finally, he sighed and sat back in his chair.
“I find it hard to believe you and she are so different.”
“I’m sure in some ways my sister and I were quite alike.” I looked at him. “You had a sister. Certainly you and she were alike in some ways.”
Except for the slight tightening of his jaw, I would have thought he hadn’t heard my mention of Amelia.
“I don’t mean in obvious ways like your appearance, your shared history as sisters, or as women in general,” he retorted. “I mean in other ways.”
“Other ways?”
“I loved your sister, Ophelia, and she loved me. We knew each other inside and out, and I don’t see her in you at all.”
“That’s because I am not her, Mr. Devlin.” I sounded positively waspish.
“You’re a bitter little thing, aren’t you?”
I stared at him in surprise. Bitter? No one had ever called me bitter. Yet something in the description resonated within me, and I looked away from his knowing gaze.
“Devlin, that was quite unkind,” Nellie scolded. “You should apologize to Ophelia.”
“No,” he drawled, shaking his head. “I think she just might need to think on it, twirl it over in that busy little mind of hers—Desi always said that was her way—and determine the truth of it herself. After she’s had some time to do that, I’ll answer all the questions she has.”
“How could you possibly know I have questions?”
“I doubt you wanted what your sister did when she called on me.”
I blushed at the innuendo in his words, and gathered my dignity about me like a cloak.
“I’m not calling on you,” I said haughtily. “I’m calling on Nellie.”
“You were on your way to see me.”
“No, I wasn’t. I—”
He laughed before I could finish forming the lie. “Donald Calhoun brought a message from his sister that you were on your way. She was concerned you’d break your foolish neck on the jetty rocks trying to find me. Probably afraid Cade would fire her for telling you where to look, too, but that wasn’t in her message.”
“That’s where you were going?” Nellie gasped. “Thank goodness I stopped you. Those rocks are dangerously slick and sharp. Many a man’s cut himself badly on those things.”
“You won’t tell him she told me, will you?” I asked him, ignoring Nellie’s exclamation.
“My dear Ophelia, I won’t tell and he won’t listen, so Dory’s little secret is safe between us.”
“What do you think happened to my sister?” The question was out before I could stop it, and the next one was even more of a surprise. “Do you think Cade killed your sister, too?”
“I just told you I wasn’t telling you a thing, even though your use of the word ‘too’ opens up a whole new can of worms. Bitterness can tint all one sees, even those you love.”
“I am not bitter,” I enunciated each word.
“Yes, you are. And until you accept it, you’ll never forgive her.” His voice softened, and he looked at me sadly. “Why couldn’t you just forgive her, Ophelia?”
“Forgive Desi? For what?” Nellie asked, her natural curiosity taking over.
Devlin cocked one dark eyebrow at me. “It seems my little bird stole her sister’s future. Now, the only way for Ophelia to get it back is to forgive the past.”
I gasped. Was he saying he knew something that could keep Cade from hanging, and he wouldn’t tell me until I forgave Desi? Would a posthumous pardon quiet the ghosts that haunted my nights? Suddenly desperate for both, I leapt to my feet.
“I forgive her!” I cried, leaning toward him. “I forgive her. Now, tell me how she died!”
“Liar!” he hissed. His eyes went cold, then hot, burning with hatred and something wild and frightening. He stood up slowly, his face pale except for two bright splotches of color high on his cheeks.
“Devlin, sit down. There’s no need to get worked up,” Nellie coaxed, as if she were talking to a mad dog.
He ignored her as his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. Nellie cried out as he dragged me through the door.
I dug my feet into the ground, but it was no use. He overpowered me with every turn. Nellie followed behind us, begging him to stop, but he paid her no heed. His grasp on me only tightened, sending pain shooting through my wrist and up my arm.
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