Garden of the Moon (15 page)

***

The next morning, haunted by both fear and the ecstasy from the night before, and armed with the determination to get answers to the myriad of questions racing through her mind, Sara ordered a carriage to take her to Candlewick Plantation.

When Cherry, Clarice Degas ‘ maid, opened the front door, Sara, foregoing the good manners her mother had instilled in her, swept past the surprised maid without waiting for an invitation. After her last visit to Candlewick Plantation, Sara wasn’t sure of her welcome, or if there would be any welcome at all, and she couldn’t risk taking any chances that she’d be turned away.

As before, the old woman, dressed head to toe in black bombazine, was sitting in her parlor. She looked up and spotted Sara. Her expression grew hard.

“I thought I told you never to come back here.”

Girding herself with all the strength she could muster, Sara walked all the way into the room and faced Clarice. Despite not being invited to take a seat, Sara sat on the large settee facing Clarice. “You did, but I have some questions for you, questions I know you have the answers to.”

“And if I don’t want to supply you with the answers?” Her eyes were hard and cold.

“Then I will sit here until you do.” Resolutely, but with butterflies filling her stomach, Sara leaned toward the old woman. “Rest assured that I am not leaving until you answer my questions.”

“You want me to call Josiah, Miss Clarice.” Clarice’s maid, stood behind Sara like a hovering bodyguard.

The old woman studied Sara for a very long moment. Hoping she wouldn’t be ejected from Candlewick, Sara forced herself to meet Clarice’s intimidating assessment head on. The woman’s dark-eyed gaze dropped for a second to the carpet at their feet, as though recalling the crow that had flown through the window on Sara’s last visit. A chill shimmered over Sara. Considering that the bird’s appearance had coincided with the mention of Katherine’s name, Sara thought she knew why Clarice had been so frightened. Katherine Grayson was a formidable woman to anger.

Finally, Clarice waved her fingers at the maid. “No need to call Josiah, Cherry. I’ll speak with Miss Wade.” She turned to glare at Sara. “You
will
make this brief.”

“Should I bring refreshments, Miss Clarice?” Cherry threw Sara a look that said she didn’t think she deserved such a show of such hospitality.

“Miss Wade won’t be here that long,” Clarice said, her dark eyes snapping her ill feelings at Sara. “Now, what is it you want to know?”

Summoning her courage to face off with the daunting older woman, Sara cleared her throat, stiffened her courage, and got straight to the point. “Why was Katherine so determined to marry a man she didn’t love?”

Clarice laughed derisively. “Because she hated her sister. Maddy was everything she wasn’t…pretty, funny, well-liked, smart. All the men in the county were after Maddy’s hand.”

“Why didn’t her family let her marry one of them?”

“Back then it was the custom that the oldest marry first. Besides, from the day of the twins’ birth there was never any question who Katherine would marry.”

Sara shook her head. She’d never understand the archaic views some families had about marriage. Thank goodness her father wasn’t one of them.

“Katherine’s father had made sure that, should the child be a female, her future was assured by agreeing with Henry Bradford to betroth their children the moment she came into this world, and Katherine came first.” She smiled slyly and laughed. “He had no idea his wife would give him two daughters. It was rumored that the betrothal would pay off a long-overdue debt Bradford owed Katherine’s father. The girl came with a sizable dowry. So when Katherine became a Bradford, not only would her dowry settle the debt, but Bradford would also have a ready supply of more cash if he needed it…and he always did.” She raised her hand to cup her mouth, and then lowered her voice. “He spent more time in the gaming dens of the French Quarter than he did running his shipping business.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Why would Mr. Grayson marry his daughter into a family that was on the verge of destitution? How would that assure her future?”

Clarice sipped her lemonade. “Because Grayson knew that when Jonathan reached twenty one, he would come into the enormous fortune left to him by his grandfather, Lord Bradford. Bradford was some kind of nobleman in England. Had a lot of land and owned a large shipping concern over there. Jonathan didn’t get on with his father, so there was no hope of the old man getting his hands on a penny of the money.”

Sara frowned. “I don’t understand what any of this has to do with Katherine hating Maddy.”

Clarice sat straighter in her chair. “Oh, my dear, Katherine didn’t just hate Maddy. She was insanely jealous of her twin to the point of an obsessive need to deprive Maddy of anything she wanted. Maddy never asked for the things her mother gave her or for men to fall at her feet. There was only one thing Maddy wanted—Jonathan.” She sighed as if talking was taking all her energy. “By marrying him, Katherine made sure her sister would never have him. Katherine had been willing to live her life with a man who detested her as much as she detested her sister to wreak her ultimate revenge.”

Sara had no idea Katherine’s hatred for Maddy ran so deep and so strong. Even in death, she fought to keep Maddy from the man she loved. That certainly answered one of her questions, but there was still one more, and she hesitated to ask it. How could she ask this woman if her son killed Jonathan?

“Well, now you know. So you can leave.” Clarice waved her hand dismissively.

Sara ignored her hostess’s rudeness. Instead of leaving, she faced off once more with the formidable Clarice. “Not yet. I have one more question. When I get the answer, then I’ll leave.” She chose just the right that would encourage Clarice to tell her what she wanted to know.

Clarice raised one impatient eyebrow and frowned. “Well?”

Taking a deep fortifying breath, Sara decided asking outright was the only way to approach the subject that would no doubt bring pain to this poor woman.

“Did Phillip kill Jonathan Bradford?” Just saying the words sent a sharp pang through Sara’s heart.

Clarice’s stern expression melted like hot wax. Sorrow so deep and so ravaging shown from the woman’s rheumy features that Sara regretted asking. She knew the answer before the woman spoke a word. Nevertheless, she waited.

The silence stretched out interminably. Then a lone tear trickled down Clarice’s pale, papery cheek. When she spoke, her voice didn’t come close to resembling that of the vindictive, angry woman who had addressed Sara moments earlier.

“That’s what they said.” Clarice swiped at the tears with a white handkerchief she’d pulled from the sleeve of her dress. “Phillip never talked to me about it.”

“He was in love with Katherine, wasn’t he?”

Clarice nodded. “He’d been totally bemused by her from childhood. God only knows why. There wasn’t a thing about the girl that was likeable. But then I guess there’s no accounting for what the heart decides.”

Sara couldn’t argue with that. Given the choice, falling in love with a ghost would not have been something to which she would have aspired. But she had fallen in love with Jonathan, and now that very love fueled a need to know the whole story behind that terrible night in the Garden of the Moon.

“Their betrothal must have been devastating for him.” Sara could recall the anguish she’d heard in Phillip’s voice.

With effort, Clarice pulled her arthritic body from the chair and hobbled to the large window overlooking the front lawn. “Devastating? More like plunging a knife in his chest. No matter what I said, he was inconsolable.” She turned to Sara. “I can’t tell you exactly what happened that night. Since Phillip never tried to defend himself, all I have to go by is what they brought out at Phillip’s trial, which, along with his confession, seemed to be irrefutable proof of his guilt.” She took a deep breath. “He left here after dinner with a gun and went to Harrogate to confront Jonathan. They faced off in the garden, and Phillip shot him.” She dabbed at her eyes again. “They arrested him the next day. He was tried and convicted. My husband was able to use his standing in the community to prevent Phillip from being sentenced to the gallows. But he might as well have been put to death. He’s in prison for the rest of his life. Two months later, his father died of a broken heart.”

She turned back to Sara. “I always felt that the house slaves at the Grayson’s plantation knew more than anyone, but who would take the world of a Nigra before that of a white man? The servants always know everything going on in the big house. I always regretted that I never questioned the servants at Brentwood. Perhaps, if I had, my son would be here, instead of…”

By the time Clarice said the last words, Sara was fighting back her own tears. Her heart went out to the poor woman. How devastating to lose your only child because of a selfish woman with no room in her heart for anything but hatred, greed, and revenge.

Sara went to stand beside Clarice. “I’m so sorry to have resurrected all these memories for you. And I’m even sorrier that you lost your son.” She laid her hand on Clarice’s frail arm. “Will you be all right?”

Clarice glanced at her. “I’ve lived with this for many years and survived. I’m sure that won’t change just because you asked a question, and I answered you.” She smiled weakly at Sara. “When you have your own children, you’ll find that a mother’s heart is an amazing thing. It can be broken over and over and still continue to beat.”

Warmth poured from Clarice’s eyes, the first warmth Sara had ever witnessed in the old woman. Along with it, Sara read a friendliness that had also been missing. Having formerly judged her as a cold, hard woman, Sara now realized she’d been using her pain as a shield against the terrible memories that haunted her.

Sara’s heart softened. “I know you won’t come to Harrogate, but may I come back to visit you?”

A genuine smile erased some of the lines of age from Clarice’s face. “I’d like that.”

Sara walked back to the settee and picked up her reticule, then started for the door.

“Child.”

Sara turned toward her. “Yes?”

“Be careful. Some would call me crazy, but I know Katherine’s spirit haunts Harrogate. I could feel it every time I stepped into that house. That’s why I stopped going. She is a hateful, evil woman, who is capable of doing anything to reach her ends.”

Chapter 12

All the way back to Harrogate Sara thought about Clarice’s parting words.

I know Katherine’s sprit haunts Harrogate
.

Had she, too, experienced Katherine’s spirit at Harrogate? Had there been more than that one incident with the crow? She had said she never came to Harrogate anymore. Was it more than just having felt Katherine’s presence in the house? It seemed Sara had gotten answers by coming to Candlewick and was now going away with even more unanswered questions. She made a vow to discuss it with Clarice on her next visit with the old woman.

Deep in thought on the ride home, Sara didn’t note that anything was wrong at Harrogate until they were more than half way down the long drive leading to the house. Then she saw it…a huge column of black smoke filling the sky and coming from behind the house. It billowed and curled over Harrogate like the hand of a fiery demon, throwing sparks into the air with all the abandon of a child.

Samuel must have seen it, too, because he’d whipped the horse into a run. Instead of stopping in front, he drove the horses and carriage around to the side of the house. Only then could she see the most frightening sight she’d ever witnessed.

The horse barn was a pillar of roaring flames licking at the afternoon sky. Field hands raced from the well to the barn carrying buckets of water to throw on the inferno. Julie tried to organize them into a bucket brigade. Her strident voice could barely be heard above the roar of the fire. Sara jumped from the carriage. The intense heat from the fire slapped her in the face.

She gasped for air, then sped toward Julie. “What happened?”

Julie continued to direct the field hands. “Get more water on the doorway. We have to get the horses out.” She turned to Sara. Beads of sweat ran down Julie’s cheeks, mixing with the soot that streaked her face. “I don’t know…what happened. Chloe…spotted the flames from the kitchen…window and alerted me.” Julie’s breathless voice was growing raspy from yelling orders and breathing in the smoke. “By the time…I got here, the barn…the barn was engulfed in flames.”

Sara couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The loss of the barn was nothing in comparison to the livestock trapped inside. No sooner had the thought passed through her mind than the door burst open, and the noise of a dozen plow horse and four riding mounts racing from the fire while screaming in terror filled the air. They all disappeared into the trees bordering the road.

Heaving a relieved sigh, Sara’s attention went back to the burning structure. At the top of the barn, flames licked out the hay hole like a dragon belching fire. Their long orange fingers curled around the old wood igniting it in seconds.

Sara jumped into the fray, grabbed a bucket, and passed it on to the line of men and women leading to the well. Bucket after bucket passed through her hands until her shoulders burned with the exertion and her palms were almost raw. Still the fire raged. The hay and the dry wood the building was made from continued to fuel the fire, and the pitiful amount of water they were able to pour on it had little effect on extinguishing the inferno.

“It’s no use,” Julie screamed from beside her. “We may as well just let it burn until it goes out.”

Sara nodded and set the bucket she’d been holding on the ground at her feet.

Suddenly a deafening crash rent the night air and the barn collapsed in on itself. Burning embers shot into the sky and fell on the ground around them. Sara and Julie screamed for everyone to back away. Her and there a few flames licked at the remaining unburned wood. Bright red ashes covered the ground where the barn had once stood.