The Lightkeeper's Daughter (23 page)

“My father will have to listen to what I want,” she said.

He stepped closer. “Has his response been what you expected so far? His goal in life was to marry Katherine to royalty. He nearly had apoplexy when she married me.”

“He’s rich. What does a title matter?”

“Henry is nouveau riche. He wants the old name to go with it. He’ll try to sell you to the highest bidder.”

She shifted. Her father couldn’t possibly be as bad as John said. “I won’t be sold.” She took a step back. “I’d hoped for a warmer welcome from him and Mrs. Eaton, though. Has she always been jealous?”

He continued to wind the curl around his finger. “Clara has had a full life with Henry. They raised a child together. You’re an unexpected wrinkle from the past, disrupting things. I heard Katherine mention a few times that her mother always felt Henry loved Laura best.”

“Why would she think that?”

“Well, he’s refused to take down that portrait in the bedroom they used to share. Walter has it now.”

“What would you do if you remarried?”’ she asked. “Would you remove traces of Katherine?”

His bemused smile faded, and he dropped his hand. “I have Edward to think of. He would need reminders of his mother. And that she . . . loved him.”

Why had he hesitated? Of course she loved her son. “You said his condition embarrassed her, but I’m sure she adored him.”

He pressed his lips together. “What society thought was most important to Katherine.”

“Does Edward remember her?”

“He sometimes mentions her. I think he remembers her good-night kisses. That’s about the only time he saw her.”

Addie tried not to show her horror. How could a mother not care for her child, especially a wounded one like Edward? She resolved to show him even more love and compassion. But firmness too. The lad needed structure and discipline.

John was so close she could feel his body heat radiating across the few inches between them. “I’m sorry if I seem too curious.”

The tenderness returned to his eyes. “You can ask me anything, darling. I have no secrets from you.”

He brushed his lips across hers, then stepped back before she had time to respond. “Sweet dreams.”

“Good night,” she murmured, watching him retreat to his bedroom. When his door shut, she stepped into her room with a smile lingering on her face.

She took a step back when she saw her uncle sitting in the chair by the window. “Mr. Driscoll, what are you doing here?”

He rose. “I think you should start calling me Uncle now, don’t you, Adeline?” He smiled.

“Yes, sir. But what are you doing?”

“Waiting on you. I want to know what you were doing in the library.”

“Looking for evidence my mother hid.”

“Evidence of what?” he asked, his smile fading.

The note had said to tell no one, and though she trusted her uncle, she resolved to honor her mother’s request. “About why she left when she did.”

“I assumed it was for a trip.”

Addie shook her head. “No. She discovered some kind of devastating news. Something she couldn’t handle.”

“What does that have to do with who paid for your upkeep, Addie? That’s our real question.”

“I only care about finding more about my mother,” she said, choking out the words. “I want to know what happened to make her take that trip.”

Mr. Driscoll turned a kind glance on her. “She’s dead, my dear. No matter what you find out about her, you can’t bring her back.”

Her eyes burned, and her throat closed more tightly. “I have this vague memory of my mother singing.” She hummed the song. “Something about hush-a-by baby. I remember her eyes. Green with thick lashes. Her voice was so sweet, and her hands were soft.”

His eyes grew moist. “She sang that all the time. Laura was an excellent mother.”

“So you must understand why I want to know about her.”

He put his hand on Addie’s shoulder. “All you need to know is that she loved you. What else matters?”

“Did she know God? I want to know what things were important to her. I come from her, and I want to make her proud.”

His hand dropped away. “It’s a useless pursuit, child. Help me find out who paid for your care, and we might discover who attacked us. And who killed Mrs. Sullivan.”

“Where did you get the pictures you brought today?”

“The attorney. Though he still won’t tell me who has retained him, he found the pictures in a file at his home. They were the proof we needed to tell your father, so the timing was perfect.”

“Do you think my father was glad to find me? He showed so little emotion.”

“He was crazy about you when you were a child. I think he was overjoyed. I can’t say the same for Clara.”

Addie’s smile faded. She liked her aunt. “I’d hoped she’d embrace me like a daughter, since Katherine is gone.”

“You’re a tie to Laura, and she couldn’t abide her sister.”

She twisted the tie on her dressing gown. “Why not?”

“Clara met Henry first. He courted her before he met Laura, but one look at the older sister, and he never noticed Clara again.”

“He married her, though!”

“I think that was Clara’s doing. Henry was lost, aimless when he couldn’t find Laura’s body. He neglected his work, didn’t shave for days.”

“Poor man.” So much love. She had only to stir the embers and he would love her like that.

“Clara came in and ordered him to bathe and get ready to take her to dinner. To my surprise, Henry obeyed her. She dragged him out of his depression by the sheer force of her will.”

“She doesn’t seem the dragon sort.”

He laughed. “I love my sister, but she can be a bulldog when she wants something. And she wanted Henry. I think she was determined he wouldn’t escape a second time.”

“She must have really loved him to do that.”

“Obsession would be a better word. She never went out with another man, not even when Henry married Laura.”

The more she was around John, the more she understood obsession. “They seem happy.”

“Clara is. Henry changed after Laura died. He was always laughing, joking around. After her death, he became all business and built the town with his money and power.”

What must it be like to be loved the way Henry loved her mother? Addie imagined a life spent with John at her side. Pure bliss.

“Get that look off your face, Niece,” Mr. Driscoll said. “I warned you about John. He’s not for you.”

“Why not? I care about him. I believe he cares about me.”

“For one thing, Clara would never allow it. She plans to marry him off to money and a title.”

“I can’t imagine why Clara would care. He’s not her son.”

“He’s her grandson’s father. That says it all.”

“You said he was a philanderer. That’s untrue.”

“I wanted to warn you off. If you think he’ll escape the future mapped out for him, you’re deceiving yourself. And your father will begin to play his queen on the chessboard of life. He won’t let you deny him that pleasure.”

“I think I’ll wait and see what the Lord has planned for us,” she said.

He snorted. “Your future is what your family makes of it. Nothing divine in that calculation.”

She followed him toward the door. He was so wrong. God moved them about at his will. If her Maker intended her to marry John, it would happen. If that wasn’t his plan, she’d have to find a way to accept it.

After he left the bank the next day, John found Clara reclining on the davenport with a damp cloth to her face. “Headache?” he asked.

“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Shut the curtains, if you would. The light is stabbing my eyes.”

“Of course.” He pulled the heavy drapes across the windows. “I’m going to town with Addie and Edward.”

She pulled the cloth away and winced. “Whatever for, John?”

“I’m going to take Miss Sullivan to see the constable, and I thought I’d take Edward to visit my parents. They were away on vacation and returned yesterday. They’ll expect to see us as soon as possible.”

“Please get used to calling her Julia, dear boy. Henry will insist on it.” She peered at him through puffy eyes. “You’re not . . . interested in her, are you? That will never do, you know. Henry has plans for her already.”

John’s elation at the thought of a few hours with Addie and his son vanished. “What kind of plans?”

“Lord Carrington,” she said. She put the cloth back on her head. “Leave me be, John. I can’t talk now.”

Carrington. A man much too old for sweet Addie. But she would be influenced by her father’s desires. When he reached the yard, he found Edward with Addie and her dog under a redwood tree. She was lying on her back with her slippers resting on the trunk. Edward’s head was on her stomach, and the dog lay with its head on its paws. Her hair hung from its pins, and his eyes traced the silken strands looped on the grass.

“My nymph,” he said.

She jerked to an upright position and began tucking her hair back into its proper position. Though she sprang to her feet, bits of mud and grass clung to her skirt as a reminder of the unladylike position in which he’d found her. His smile broadened.

Edward sat with his knees clasped, and John beckoned to him. He got slowly to his feet. “Are you ready for our visit to Grandma?”

Edward scuffed his feet in the grass and grimaced. “Do I have to go, Papa?”

He steeled his voice. “Yes. Grandma would be very disappointed if I didn’t bring you.”

"Her house stinks.”

John winced. “That’s very rude, Edward. Get in the buggy.” He turned his smile on Addie. “Can you bear to spend the day in my company?”

Her dimple came. “I think I can endure the suffering.”

He took her hand. “I’ll take you to lunch to ease the pain.”

Her eyes smiled. “What about Gideon?”

“We couldn’t leave our guard dog behind.” He clasped his hands around her tiny waist and assisted her into the seat. The honeysuckle fragrance drifted from her skin. He lifted Edward up beside her, then whistled for the dog to leap into the back of the buckboard. John sprang onto the front seat beside them and took the reins.

The buggy clattered down the cobblestone drive to the street. He reined in the horse, then pulled onto the thoroughfare. Weekdays were normally busy in Mercy Falls, and this Thursday was no exception. Buggies and automobiles jostled for position on the narrow streets. John and Addie passed street vendors hawking food.

He reined in the horse in front of the brick police station. “Why don’t you wait here and I’ll see what I can discover. I’m used to dealing with officials.”

The animation had drained from her face. “Thank you.”

He went inside and found the officer in charge of Josephine’s murder investigation. There was little the man could tell John, and he said they wouldn’t be able to release the body for a few more days. John strode back to the buggy and climbed to his seat. “He’ll call when we are able to pick up the body,” he said. “You’ll have a few more days to make arrangements.”

“I still can’t believe it,” she said. “It seems so pointless. She knew nothing.”

“You’re convinced her death is related to your identity?”

“Are you not?”

Was he? He picked up the reins. “I think it’s likely,” he admitted. “I’m sorry you’re having to deal with this.”

“God is in control,” she said. “I rest in that.”

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “What was it like growing up in a lighthouse?”

“I loved it. Helping my father maintain the light, working around the property. When a shipwreck happened, he would be called upon to rescue the survivors. There often weren’t any, though, and that was hard to endure.”

He winced at the woeful tone in her voice.

Her gaze wandered to Edward, who leaned against her with his eyes closed. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about Edward. How long has he had-this condition?”

“Since he was about two.”

She pleated her skirt with her fingers. “What is the cause? I know little about it.”

“No one knows. It’s thought to do with impulses in the brain, but they are uncontrollable.”

“Has his condition stayed stable? Does he normally have as many episodes as he’s endured since my arrival?”

He slapped the reins. “It’s worsened a bit this year.” The truth of that was like having an injury probed with a knife.

“I’ll try to find an herb that will help. I shall research it.” Her voice held determination.

He smiled. “My little healer. You try to fix everyone. Can you fix my heart?”

“Has someone harmed it?”

“I fear it’s been irretrievably ensnared by you.”

Her smile widened, and she placed her small gloved hand on his forearm. “That’s a perfect state for it. I shall endeavor to keep it that way.”

“And what of the state of your own heart?”

She sobered. “I fear it is as entangled as yours.”

“I pray it stays that way, no matter what your father plans.”

“I’m sure he has more important things to worry about than the state of my heart.”

“There is nothing more important than that.” The buggy entered the city limits, and he slowed the horse. “Have you had any more thoughts as to the meaning of your mother’s cryptic note?”

She withdrew her hand from his arm and adjusted her glove. “I did. Dust could be the attic.”