The Brightest of Dreams

by Susan Anne Mason

Disappointment rushed through her with astonishing force. “Why? Because you couldn’t coerce me into returning with you?” Despite her best efforts to contain her emotions, sarcasm seeped into her words.

  “Please let me explain. It’s not as diabolical as you make it sound.”

  She lifted her chin. “By all means.”

  He exhaled and ran a hand over his jaw. “When your uncle first requested my help to locate you, I wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about the idea. I figured I would have enough to worry about trying to find my siblings.” He shrugged. “In order to sweeten the pot, his lordship offered me one of his tenant farms if I managed to bring you back with me.”

  Julia’s breakfast soured in her stomach. Hearing him admit it aloud was somehow worse than her imaginings. Now every encounter they’d had since he first saw her scrubbing floors in the hospital was ruined. Tainted by his ulterior motives.

  The sting of tears bit at the back of her eyes. Was every man in her life destined to let her down?

  Desperate to put some space between them, she pushed up from the sofa and moved to the far side of the room, facing away. She couldn’t bear to look at him right now. Not with her emotions so raw.

  Soft footsteps came up behind her.

  “Julia.” His tortured whisper sent shivers down her spine. “I admit that at first the idea of gaining a home for my family was a huge incentive. But the more I came to know you, the more I came to care for you, and the farm simply faded in importance.” He moved closer.

  She held herself rigid, willing him not to touch her.

  “All I wanted—then and now—is your happiness. I hope you can believe that.”

  “How can I believe anything you say now?” Her voice quavered, and she berated herself for her weakness.

  Quinn gently turned her to face him, a plea evident in his eyes. “Because you know my heart. Have I done anything underhanded to persuade you to come with us?”

  Her chin quivered, but she couldn’t seem to form an answer.

  “Did I try to dissuade you from taking this job?” he continued. “A job that would enable you to stay in Canada?”

  “No.” She dropped her gaze to his vest, confusion twisting her stomach into knots.

  A storm of emotion passed over his features. “I can’t deny that I still want you to come back with us, but that has nothing to do with the farm and everything to do with my feelings for you.”

  Before she could utter a word, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. A thousand sensations passed through her at once. Shock, pleasure, and then anger. How dare he try to confuse her by kissing her again? She wrenched herself away from him.

  Right away, he held up his hands. “Forgive me. That was . . .”

  “Unconscionable?”

  “Yes.” He hung his head. “I couldn’t think of any other way to show you how I feel. How the thought of leaving here and never seeing you again is unbearable.” When he raised his head, abject misery swirled in his eyes. “But once again, I’m being selfish. Not considering what you want.” He took a tentative step toward her. “Did I misread the attraction between us, Julia? If so, please be honest with me.”

  She stared into his eyes, now the color of warm pewter. Despite everything, she couldn’t lie. “I can’t deny the connection between us, but as we discussed after our trip to Peterborough, it will do us no good to pursue it. My life is here now.”

  “Why is that? Is it really due to the lack of freedom back home? Or is there something else keeping you here?”

  She almost laughed out loud at the ludicrousness of his question. Being unwed and pregnant meant she would be a pariah, shunned by society no matter where she lived, especially in England. At least here, she could remain anonymous. She released a weary sigh and stepped away from his nearness, her shoes sinking into the thick area rug. “There are reasons I can’t disclose. Extremely personal ones that dictate I must remain here.”

  In the ensuing silence, the distant toll of a church bell could be heard.

  “If you have a problem, I’d like to help,” he said quietly.

  “Please don’t press me on this, Quinn. You’ll only make matters worse.” She held his gaze with a determined stare of her own.

  At last, he let out a long breath. “Very well. If this is what you want, I will respect your decision.” He gave her a long look. “But don’t ask me to like it, because I never will.” Without another word, he shoved his cap on his head and strode out of the room.

  After Quinn left, Julia sat in the parlor, absorbing the depressing fact that she might never see him again. Within a matter of weeks, he would be heading back to England. And he wouldn’t be returning.

  Her heart already felt shrunken in her chest. Had she made a terrible mistake? Should she have revealed her real reason for staying and given Quinn the chance to decide how he felt about it? She ran a hand over her tired eyes. In the end, what difference would it really have made?

  She shifted on the sofa, a crinkling sound alerting her to the letter in her pocket she’d forgotten about in all the turmoil. She drew it out and frowned. There was no postage, indicating it had been hand-delivered by someone in the city. A sense of dread rolled in her stomach.

  She pulled out the letter and unfolded it.

  My dearest Julia,

  If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’ve been trying to avoid me. Perhaps you’re embarrassed about our relationship. I hope that’s not the case, because I haven’t been able to get you out of my thoughts since our time together.

  And I don’t for one second believe you’re serious about that Aspinall character. I think you were only trying to protect yourself because I’m still married. I suppose I can’t blame you for that, but you should know that my circumstances have changed, and I need to speak to you about it.

  Please meet me at the military hospital tomorrow afternoon at three o’clock. I think once you hear my news, you’ll be as pleased as I am.

  With great affection,

  Richard

  Julia crumpled the paper into a tight ball, holding in a scream. She only prayed no one had told him the location of her new residence or she’d never feel safe here again.

  “I take it Mr. Aspinall has left.” Mrs. Middleton entered the room, her features pinched with what looked like a disapproving frown.

  Julia shot to her feet, stuffing the balled-up letter into her pocket. “I’m sorry. I thought you were still busy with your correspondence.” She rushed to take the woman’s arm. “Do you need anything?”

  Mrs. Middleton pointed to her armchair.

  Julia helped her settle there, placing a woolen blanket over her knees. “Would you like some tea? Something to eat?”

  “Sit down, child. We need to have a chat.” The woman’s grim expression made the nerves jump in Julia’s stomach.

  She sat across from her and folded her hands on her lap.

  “If you recall, I asked you only one question when I agreed to hire you, and that was if the father of the child was in the picture. You assured me he was not.”

  “That’s right.” Julia frowned. What did she . . . ? “Oh, no, Mrs. Middleton. Quinn is not the father. He doesn’t even know about—” she lowered her voice, in case a certain nosy housekeeper was listening outside the door—“the baby.”

  “Then perhaps we have another problem.” Mrs. Middleton’s piercing gaze made Julia squirm. “Mrs. Banbury said she saw you kissing Mr. Aspinall in this very room.”

  Heat burned in Julia’s cheeks. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. I never expected Quinn to do that.”

  Mrs. Middleton tilted her head. “Then what exactly is the nature of your relationship with him? It seems more than mere friendship to me.”

  Julia’s stomach plummeted. It was only natural that Mrs. Middleton would question her morals. After all, she was unmarried and expecting a baby. Shame moved through her like a flash flood. “We’ve only shared a kiss. That’s all. Quinn would like it to be more,” she admitted. “But
for a variety of reasons, that’s not feasible. This baby being one of them.” She laid a palm over her abdomen. “Besides, he’s going back to England in a few weeks. I doubt I’ll ever see him again.” Her bottom lip trembled, betraying her.

  Mrs. Middleton studied her. “So, you’re telling me this relationship won’t interfere with your job?”

  “Absolutely not.” Of that, Julia was certain.

  Mrs. Middleton waited, then banged her cane on the floor. “Fine. From now on if you wish to entertain visitors, you will do so on your day off. Which is Monday, by the way. And no more kissing in the parlor.”

  “You have my word.” Julia held her breath, waiting for some other condition to her staying on.

  Instead, Mrs. Middleton leaned closer, softening her voice. “For the record, my dear, if this man truly is your friend, I think you owe him the truth of your situation. From my experience, it’s always best to be up-front with the people closest to you and let God take care of the rest.”

  CHAPTER 22

  A few days later, Julia stood beneath the oak tree on the corner of the church property, seeking relief from the hot sun. It was a quiet Monday afternoon, and in the heat of the midday, not many people were out walking. The church itself stood as a silent sentinel, empty of worshipers for the time being.

  Yesterday morning, when Julia and Mrs. Middleton had attended service here, Julia had encountered Mrs. Chamberlain with Quinn and Harry. Harry had been enthusiastic to see Julia again, and it had done her heart good to see the improvement in the lad.

  However, the awkwardness between her and Quinn had left Julia with a huge knot of regret in her stomach.

  She’d had a few days to process all the things he’d told her during their last conversation. And when all was said and done, Julia believed him. Believed that the farm might have started out being his initial motivation to find her, but that his growing feelings for her had made him rethink the situation. The fact that he cared for her was evident. Not even he could be that great an actor. And in the end, he’d left without trying to convince her to come home or to coerce her to disclose the reason why she needed to stay. Overall, Quinn had treated her with nothing but respect.

  Well, except for stealing that last kiss.

  The more she considered Mrs. Middleton’s advice, the more she came to believe that the woman had a point. Maybe Quinn should know the truth. She’d discovered his secret, and they’d gotten through that. And as scary as it would be to tell him, perhaps he deserved to know hers. That way, nothing would remain unsaid between them.

  When the service had ended and the congregation filed out into the vestibule of the church, Julia followed Quinn outside.

  “I have something I need to tell you,” she’d whispered. “But not with so many people around. Could you meet me here tomorrow around two o’clock?”

  He had frowned, glancing over in Harry’s direction, but at last he’d nodded. “Very well. Two o’clock.”

  Now, after pacing the walkway for twenty minutes, Julia looked up at the clock tower. Ten minutes past two. Perhaps Quinn had decided not to come after all. Part of her hoped he wouldn’t, since it would save her from having to see the shock and disappointment on his face when she told him about her pregnancy.

  She blew out a long breath. She’d better get used to being the object of people’s disgust, for once everyone learned of her condition—which was becoming harder to conceal by the day—it would become an all-too-common reality.

  “Hello, Julia.”

  She whirled around to see Quinn standing on the sidewalk. Her heart leapt at the sight of him, so solid and familiar. His serious gray eyes studied her, as if he might be able to determine what she was about to disclose.

  “Quinn. I thought maybe you weren’t coming after all.”

  “The walk took longer than I anticipated. I decided to forgo the streetcar today.”

  She wanted to ask why but pressed her lips together. He was here now, that was all that mattered. Best to get the conversation over with.

  “I thought we could sit on the garden bench.” It was tucked far enough out of the way that any pedestrians wouldn’t notice them there.

  Quinn followed her across the short span of lawn to a spot near the rectory where roses, dahlias, and an assortment of wildflowers grew in profusion. Apparently, the garden had belonged to the minister’s wife, and ever since her death, he’d kept it up in her memory.

  Julia took a seat. Quinn sat at the opposite end of the bench, putting as much space between them as possible. She lifted her chin, not wanting him to see how much that hurt. The last time they’d been together, he couldn’t sit close enough to her. But perhaps given the nature of the impending conversation, it was for the best.

  A pair of squirrels dashed across the lawn and up the tree trunk, causing the leaves to rustle.

  “What is it you wish to say, Julia?” Quinn faced forward, looking out at the street.

  This was it. Time to bare her soul. She ran her tongue over her dry lips. “I didn’t like the way our last conversation ended,” she said slowly. “After all you’ve done for me, I owe you a better explanation for my actions.” She paused to glance over at him, willing him to look at her, but he continued to stare straight ahead. “The truth is, I’ve been keeping something from you, something I’ve dreaded having to tell you.” Her heart beat too quickly in her chest. She inhaled deeply, but no amount of air would help.

  He turned to look at her. “You needn’t be afraid to tell me anything.”

  The affection and longing in his eyes threatened to undo her tightly held control. “I am afraid,” she said, “because once you know, you’ll never think of me the same way again.” She swallowed the lump forming in her throat, determined to get through this without resorting to tears.

  “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

  “Very well.” She twisted her clammy hands together on her lap. “The reason I can’t go back to England, and why I can’t entertain any sort of relationship with you, is because . . .” She exhaled, her heart pounding. “I’m pregnant.” The words seemed to hang in the air. She gazed down at the grass beneath her feet, unable to bear the shock that must be evident on his face.

  After several long seconds, she turned to look at him.

  He stared at her, looking as though someone had just punched him. “You’re pregnant?” A host of emotions raced across his features—shock, anger, and then hurt.

  She nodded. “Almost five months along.”

  A few beats of silence ensued, broken only by the twitter of some nearby birds.

  “Wh-who is the father? Was it Sam?”

  Julia hung her head. “No.”

  “Then who else—” He stopped abruptly. “That doctor. The one you were so frightened of. Is it him?” Disbelief rang in his voice.

  She nodded again, her throat too tight to form a reply.

  Quinn jumped up from the bench and began to pace the lawn. “Did that cretin force himself on you?” Rage leapt behind his eyes. He looked like a wild man, bent on revenge.

  She gripped her fingers together. It was imperative to keep control of her emotions. No matter what, she had to keep Quinn from seeking retribution on her behalf.

  “It was my fault for trusting him.” Julia released a shaky breath. “He’d never given any indication. . . .” She paused. That wasn’t entirely true. In hindsight, when she recalled several of their conversations, she recognized times she’d ignored comments that no married man should have uttered. She’d learned too late that just because she viewed Dr. Hawkins as a father figure didn’t mean he felt the same. “I never imagined he would take advantage of me that way.” A shudder rippled through her as unbidden memories surfaced. The man’s hands on her body. His lips assaulting her face and neck. Even the amount of medication she’d been on couldn’t make her forget those horrid sensations.

  “Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened?” Though his voice was low, tension emanate
d from him.

  She hesitated, her stomach churning. The last thing she wanted to do was relive the experience, but she owed him the truth, as much as she could remember.

  “The day after Sam died, I was still distraught, despite the pills Dr. Hawkins had given me.” She took out her handkerchief from her handbag, certain she would need it. “Sam’s cousin ordered me to pack my bags and leave the premises. I told him I had nowhere to go, but he didn’t care. He said his solicitor would be by the next day to make sure I’d left.” A soft breeze ruffled Julia’s skirt and lifted her hair from her neck. “Dr. Hawkins came to see how I was doing and found me beside myself—nearly hysterical, I’m ashamed to say. I didn’t know what I was going to do. Sam still owed me a month’s wages, and without it, I had very little to live on.” She twisted the handkerchief between her fingers. “Dr. Hawkins tried to comfort me. Gave me another pill and insisted I drink some brandy to calm my nerves.” She shrugged. “I figured since he was a physician, I could trust his judgment, so I did as he said.”

  Quinn paused in front of her. “Pills and liquor? What was he thinking?”

  “He seemed so caring, like he truly understood what I was going through. I remember sobbing on his shoulder . . . and then not much else after that.” Her account wasn’t one hundred percent accurate, but Julia didn’t wish to impart any of the more sordid details she could recall. She sucked in a breath. “When I vaguely realized what was happening, I wanted to do something. Scream for help. Anything. But it was as if my bones had turned to jelly. I couldn’t even speak, let alone fight him off.” Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes. She blotted them with her handkerchief. “I should never have taken those pills. I should have recognized his true intent earlier.”

  “That’s not true. He took advantage of you, Julia. He should be arrested and lose his license to practice medicine.” Veins stood out in Quinn’s neck, and his fists were clenched.

  Julia swallowed hard, forcing back the tears. “I don’t remember much of anything until I woke up the next morning. I felt terrible. My head hurt, my mouth was dry, and I was sick to my stomach.”