“Timothy has told me nothing about you. Why are you here?” the big woman asked pointedly.
“To enjoy the party, of course,” Rebecca replied cautiously.
“Humph,” Octavia grunted loudly. “That’s not what I was asking.”
“I’m sorry,” Rebecca turned to Octavia and squared her shoulders. “I must have misunderstood your question.” Uncomfortable with the woman’s inquisition she chose to face her head on.
“Why are you here at Timothy’s?” Octavia showed her impatience.
“I’m visiting with him and his son briefly. I won’t be here long.” She thought she’d address Octavia’s real concern.
“I see,” the woman replied and Timothy crossed the room in long strides towards them.
“No, Timothy, don’t spend all of your energy dancing with the old women. You must save more dances for me!” Octavia exclaimed and Rebecca could not help but notice that her entire demeanor had changed as the woman slipped her arm into Timothy’s possessively.
The man seemed uncomfortable and Rebecca was sure it had something to do with her. She tried to excuse herself politely, but found it nearly impossible to speak without interrupting Octavia’s endless complimenting of the man and his numerous charms and assets. Octavia stood between Rebecca and Timothy chatting on without so much as catching her breath and when her gossip turned to talking about the dancers on the floor, Rebecca was positive she could stay no longer. Timothy seemed to become tenser every moment, glancing towards her several times and she wanted to leave the couple alone.
“And of all the things, the fool man had the audacity to attend with one of those horrid picture brides, why, I never in all my life would have imagined such a thing!” Octavia blurted out.
Timothy choked on his merlot, struggling not to spill the wine and turned to Octavia. Behind the babbling woman the color drained from Rebecca’s face. As her legs began to give way beneath her, he stepped quickly past Octavia to catch the fainting girl capably in his arm.
Everyone was concerned with the beautiful stranger’s condition, alarmed as they watched the big man carry the helplessly limp girl hurriedly up the stairs, calling for the maids.
When Rebecca revived, Timothy was dabbing her face with a cool cloth while Octavia stood over him, her arms folded across her generous chest.
“Ah, you’re awake.” Timothy looked down at her, his face pale with concern.
Rebecca saw the glaring look on Octavia’s face. “I guess I had too much wine,” Rebecca lied.
It seemed to Timothy that the girl neither ate nor drank all evening. “You should eat something. Fetch her something from the kitchen.” Timothy sent the maid scurrying, certain that Rebecca’s fainting was not a result of alcohol.
“She looks fine to me,” Octavia declared. “We must return downstairs, Tim. We have a house full of people. Surely you can’t spend the evening fussing over this girl.”
At Rebecca’s insistence Timothy returned to his guests reluctantly, concerned over what exactly had upset the young woman and irritated with Octavia’s thoughtless remark over the guest’s new bride. Had things gone differently he might have a woman of his own in attendance at the blasted party and whoever she may have been, she did not deserve to be talked about in such a cruel way.
The party wound down, Timothy stopping every maid he could find and inquiring about the girl’s condition. His guests, pleased with a fine meal and whispering with curiosity over Rebecca and her condition, waved farewell to Elgerson and Octavia and departed in their carriages.
Timothy was exhausted and worried about the girl and it seemed forever before he ushered Octavia into her waiting coach. Her breath smelled strongly of wine and her slurred advances were now embarrassingly forward. He watched with resignation as she rode into the night.
He ran upstairs briskly and tapped on Rebecca’s door where he had instructed the maid not to leave her side.
The servant appeared at the door, informing him that Rebecca was sleeping and Timothy went to his room preferring to have seen her.
Without a moment’s reprieve from Octavia all evening he had been unable to put his attention to getting the men together he needed to inspect the shack. He had only taken the time to arrange a visit from the sheriff late the next morning so that he could get the information he’d need from Rebecca. With the girl ill, he wondered in frustration if the meeting should wait. Timothy had never had the opportunity to inform Rebecca of the appointment and decided he’d have to wait until the light of day to see about the meeting.
He removed his dress clothing slowly in exhaustion and laid on the bed staring into the darkness. Timothy Elgerson drifted off to sleep with the thought of the girl’s perfect face in the moonlight thanking him for the little he had done. He asked himself who the girl might be, suddenly aware that he had more questions than answers about Rebecca.
Chapter Twenty
Rebecca lay awake in the bright morning sunlight watching the poor servant soundly sleeping upright in the big upholstered chair. She hated the burden she had become to everyone and finally rose and gently woke the girl.
“I’m fine, please go get some sleep,” she pleaded, insisting that the promise to stay at her side had been fulfilled.
The maid rose reluctantly, unsure that she ought to abandon her post, but, with gentle persuasion, Rebecca finally sent her on her way. She returned to her bed too depressed to face the day. When she had first awoken in the dark hours before dawn she resolved to ask Timothy if it would be possible to post a letter. She hated to ask the man for any further favors, but this one could not be avoided. She had ruined the man’s party. She must write Emmy at once.
As soon as it could be arranged she would return home, obtain some sort of employment and find a way to repay Mark and Timothy for their kindness. She rose from the bed and donned a soft satin robe that had come with the other clothing, feeling the rich cloth and overwhelmed by the man’s kindness. It was best that she leave as soon as possible and in the meantime she would do her best to avoid the man and not increase her indebtedness to him. Rebecca cried bitterly, feeling trapped by the generosity of others.
When a maid arrived to ask her to join Timothy for breakfast she declined, deciding she’d skip some meals, not even bothering to dry her eyes. Within minutes she heard a knock on the door and asked the returning servant to leave her be.
“Rebecca?” Timothy stood outside of the bedroom door, sick with worry over the girl.
“How can I possibly face him?” she thought, fighting her tears.
“Would you like me to call you a doctor?”
“No,” she thought. “I cannot put the man out further.”
“I’m perfectly fine,” she replied. “A bit under the weather from the wine I believe. I’m sure I’ll be just fine.” She had learned from watching David that a morning after too much alcohol left you exhausted and ill.
“Rebecca, I really must speak to you,” Timothy insisted.
She wiped her eyes quickly and called for the man to enter. She turned her face away in shame and fear of looking at him as he walked into the room and stood over the bed.
“Rebecca, I don’t believe for a minute that you are hung over. What’s wrong?”
Bursting into tears at the discovery of her lie she sobbed wretchedly and the man’s frustration increased in his confusion. The girl was behaving so strangely and he needed to know if something was seriously wrong with her.
“Are you or are you not ill, Rebecca? I need to know.”
Rebecca decided that her outburst was only succeeding in making the man more suspicious and decided to try a different approach.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “No, I am not ill. I’m just exhausted from the party and everything. I will be down to eat shortly.”
“Then why did you try to tell me you were hung over? What’s wrong?” Timothy sat in the chair beside her bed. “Look at me, Rebecca,” he said firmly.
The girl looked up at
him, her eyes red from crying and the hopelessness of her situation obvious on her face. Her color appeared fine, but something in her expression spoke of a torment she had chosen not to voice.
Timothy was confounded by the girl and suddenly regretted his harsh tone with her.
“Rebecca.” He tried to sound patient with the girl. “Tell me what’s bothering you. Maybe I can help.”
“I don’t want to take any more of your help. Don’t you see that? You’ve already done so much and I can’t ask for anything more. Please,” she begged. “Please understand.”
“No, Rebecca, I don’t. You needed clothing and I dressed you. Would you prefer to be running about in Mark’s clothing? I think not!” Timothy was completely exasperated. “If you think I’ve done too much for you, then do something for me. Get up if you are not ill and come down to breakfast. The sheriff is coming in an hour and he needs to talk to you about the people who took you captive. You do that and we’ll call it even.” Timothy Elgerson rose and left the room, closing the door behind him.
How could he possibly reason with her? She’s so unfathomable, he thought. The big man descended the stairs in frustration, certain that the girl made no sense and that informing her of the meeting with the sheriff had gone nothing like he had hoped. His growing discomfort and distraction with the young woman made him uneasy and tested his disposition.
Rebecca threw back the covers as the man left, completely aggravated with herself for her display. She splashed cold water on her reddened face and chose her clothing carefully. One day she would repay him for everything, but until then she would have no choice. She knew something about her unnerved the man and she wished she could avoid him in any way possible.
When the young woman entered the cozy family dining room for breakfast, her hair was carefully brushed, pulled back from her face and tumbling freely down her back, a soft lock across her forehead. She had chosen a crisp, organdy dress with a raised pattern in a clear, crystal blue, her full petticoat rustling as she entered the room. The dress featured a high collar, trimmed in delicate, white lace and the bodice fit her perfectly.
Timothy studied her carefully, noting that her cheeks were a bit rosy from her earlier outburst. He watched her sit down in a chair and arrange her napkin neatly on her lap. He told himself that he would not be distracted from his mission of understanding the girl by her disarming beauty. She looked so fetching in her fitted dress, an appropriate choice for her meeting and Timothy found himself admiring her trim figure and the soft spill of her gleaming hair down the length of her back.
“Rebecca.” His voice was sharper than he intended.
Rebecca bit her lip and nodded.
Mark watched the two adults, sure that something was amiss. His father had gone up to check on the woman a bit earlier and Mark thought that he was concerned about her, yet he had returned angry and silent. Now it appeared that Rebecca had been crying and both adults were behaving strangely. The boy had watched the two dancing together the previous evening and Mark thought that his father was starting to like the woman. In fact, he thought they might be falling in love or something, but now he was worried. He had hoped he would like her enough to ask her to live at Stavewood, but he knew his father, and, if Rebecca angered him, things would not go well.
The adults ate in silence while Mark tried to devise a way to make his father accept the lady. He thought he might talk to Rebecca later and tell her what kind of things he knew the man liked.
Rebecca tried to avoid Timothy’s gaze as he stopped eating several times and studied the girl. He wondered why she had to be so sullen. It was a perfectly beautiful day and she had been so cheerful the day before, what could possibly have gotten into her?
Gebhard brought the sheriff into the room as soon as he had arrived and Timothy offered the lawman breakfast.
“Ben, this is Rebecca,” he introduced the girl tersely. “If you’ll excuse me I want to ride out and speak to a few of the men. Mark, why don’t you take a ride with me?” Timothy suggested.
The boy bounded from the table and he and Timothy exited through the kitchen.
Rebecca took a deep breath and ventured a look at the lawman. She was relieved to see that he was a kindly, if rugged looking, older man, and she hoped he would not pry too deeply into why she had arrived in his territory, preferring only to discuss the events of her captivity.
“Why don’t we take a walk outside and talk?” he suggested.
She sent a girl up to her room to gather a wrap, and then she and the sheriff walked out into the bright fall day. There was a crisp nip in the air and the threat of an approaching frost chilled the surrounding woodland. He led her out past the gazebo to a path along the trees and commenced with his questioning.
“Tell me how it all began, Rebecca.”
Rebecca started by telling him that she had felt ill on the train and gotten off, but could not recall the name of the stop. The man there had told her she could catch the next train and she was hoping to do that, but had fallen ill and he had left. Rebecca omitted the part about the strange drink the man had given her, ashamed that she had lost consciousness and also her clothing. She went on to say that a large woman had taken her to the woods and she woke up in a filthy, broken down shack where Mark had untied her.
“That’s all, Sheriff.” Rebecca hoped that her brief summation of the events would satisfy him.
“The man at the station, did he have a name?”
“Finn. He said his name was Finn. He was rather pleasant actually.”
“Finn Morgan?” the sheriff seemed surprised.
“He never mentioned his last name as I recall, but I doubt he had anything to do with my abduction. I never saw him again after I…” Rebecca paused, “after I fell ill.” She felt panicked that the man recognized the name, and decided she had regrettably supplied him with too much information.
The sheriff studied Rebecca carefully. “And the woman, did she give you a name as well?”
“Bedra,” Rebecca replied hesitantly, confident that he knew Finn’s name and would recognize the woman’s as well. She sighed hopelessly, pleading silently to herself that the man had enough information to complete his investigation and cease his questioning of her.
“Bedra? Are you sure?”
“Yes, positive,” Rebecca assured him. “I will never forget it. Do you know her as well?” Rebecca felt a lump in her throat. If the sheriff knew the woman he might arrest her and she might talk about what might have happened while Rebecca was sleeping and, worse yet, tell the sheriff how she had come to be on the train as well.
Rebecca began to shiver with fear and became increasingly pale.
The sheriff could tell that he had probed the girl enough for the time being and kept his remaining questions as short as possible.
“Rebecca, could you describe the woman to me?”
Rebecca began to shake, announced that she couldn’t answer any more questions and dashed back to the house.
The sheriff stood at the edge of the lawn, puzzled by the girl’s responses. He could understand that she might be quite upset by her ordeal. Elgerson had filled him in on a few details he had gotten from the boy. If Finn was there he knew where Rebecca had left the train. But the part that baffled him most was who was this Bedra?
Chapter Twenty-One
The sheriff rode off to the prearranged meeting place to catch up with Elgerson and they planned to gather a few men and start out at first light the next day towards the shack. He wrestled with the information the girl had given him, hoping to come up with some possible reason Finn Morgan might be involved.
When he caught up with Elgerson he asked the man’s opinion.
“Finn Morgan? Are you sure it was Morgan?” Timothy asked, as surprised as the sheriff. The two men rode side by side toward the home of the next man who was joining their posse to check the shack.
“She said he told her his name was Finn and that he was at the train station,” the sheriff confirm
ed.
“Finn Morgan keeps the Hawk Bend Station alright and it’s not terribly far from your cabin and that shack we’re going to check out,” the lawman continued.
“But Finn’s not much brighter than a child, Ben.” Elgerson reasoned. “How and why would he possibly want to hurt Rebecca? The man’s got no history of bothering any woman that I know of.”
“That’s what I can’t figure, Tim. She talked about a woman up there, too. She said her name was Bedra.”
“Bedra? That’s even odder. Are you sure that’s right?” Elgerson asked.
“Girl says she’ll never forget the name. Just the mention of it seemed to upset her so much that she took off into the house, white as a ghost, before I could get a description out of her.”
“Was she alright?” Elgerson was concerned that Rebecca had behaved so oddly. Maybe the visit from the sheriff was too much for her. He tried to remember her ordeal and thought he probably had been too hard on her. He thought he had better finish up his business and check on her.
“I expect so, just upset was all. I sure would like to question her again though. If I knew what train she was on we might be able to pinpoint the time better. From what your boy said, she’s not even sure herself how long she was in the shack. Maybe next time I talk to her it’d be a better idea if you and the boy were there. She seemed fond enough of you on the dance floor last night, Tim,” the sheriff smiled slyly.
Elgerson thought that however Rebecca had behaved while dancing wasn’t her demeanor now. He hoped that by the time he returned, her mood would have improved.
The men and the boy finished their roundup of the men for the following day’s investigation and Ben left Elgerson and Mark and headed into town to ask around about Finn Morgan. Maybe there was something someone knew about the man he was unaware of.
Elgerson stabled the horses while Mark played in the yard with his bicycle and then headed inside, unsure of what awaited him. Birget said she had last seen Rebecca in the rose garden inspecting the flowers. Timothy returned to the yard in search of the girl.
Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 1) Page 13