The Widower's Wife (24 page)

Miss Lorelei Davis looked at the address scribbled on the piece of paper in her hand and then glanced again at the massive estate through the closed iron gates. If there was any doubt that she had received the correct address, it was vanquished when she saw the sign hanging above the gate. It read “Grey Manor.”

Tentatively, she pushed at the gate and walked onto the exquisitely manicured grounds. She was especially nervous to be here, but she felt she had no choice. If this was indeed the family of Miss Jillian Grey, she needed to warn them. Lorelei wasn’t a bad person, and she certainly didn’t want to feel responsible for something evil befalling any person—except for maybe Nathan Shaw—including this unknown woman.

Lorelei approached the massive door and rang the bell. Moments later a well-dressed butler opened the door and gave her an odd look. Ever prim and proper, he asked, “May, I help you, miss?”

Lorelei shifted nervously before replying. “I’m looking for a Mr. Marcus Grey.”

The butler looked her over from head to toe. “Is he expecting you?” he questioned.

“N-no, sir,” Lorelei hesitantly responded, “but I have an urgent message to give him.”

“I’m afraid that we don’t expect Mr. Grey back until tomorrow morning, Miss . . . ?” He looked at her expectantly.

“Miss Davis,” she informed the man. Lorelei started to fret. What should she do? Nathan was already on the train. He would be there the day after tomorrow.

“I can take the message for him, if you like. I will be sure that he gets it upon his arrival,” the butler offered.

Lorelei felt that she didn’t have much choice. “Well, I planned on giving it to him personally.”

“I can fetch you a pen and paper if you wish to leave a note,” the butler suggested.

Lorelei was relieved. Yes, she could write a quick note, and then she would get out of the city. She was tired of being in Providence. Besides, Nathan scared her, and she wanted to be as far away as possible when he came back.

While the butler went back inside the house, Lorelei looked around the yards. Yes, this was exactly how she wanted to live. She had made a mistake in choosing Nathan Shaw, but she wasn’t washed up yet. Just then, the butler returned and set the paper and inkwell on the outside table. Lorelei took the pen from his hand, dipped it in the ink, and wrote out her warning. She blew on the ink until it dried, folded it, and handed it to the man.

“You will make sure he gets this the moment he gets back?” She looked at him sternly, hoping to covey the importance of it.

“Yes, Miss Davis,” he replied firmly.

“Good! Thank you, kindly.” She turned and walked down the steps and back toward the gates.

It wasn’t until she went through and closed them behind her that she finally felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She had done all she could to help the poor girl. Now it was out of her hands. She recalled what had happened two nights past.

Knowing Nathan’s weakness for gambling and whiskey, Lorelei found a job right away in one of the more popular taverns and started spreading rumors about him. Nothing that wasn’t true, as far as she was concerned. He was a cheat and a liar, and his word could not be trusted. Those weren’t good things to be said about a person in a city like this. She had also spoken of his association with women of questionable character and how he fancied sullying their reputations. She was angry with him for humiliating her and was determined to make him pay. Quite quickly, his name was on the black list of both those in high society as well as those who were not.

Eventually word started filtering back to her that Nathan had it in for whoever was ruining his good name. Lorelei wasn’t worried. She had been careful about how she’d gone about spreading tales about him.

She was working at the tavern when Nathan suddenly walked through the doors and glared at her. She wasn’t worried until she saw the daggers in Nathan’s eyes. She decided it would be best to be coy and feign ignorance, on the slim chance he had just happened into her tavern.

“Why, Nathan Shaw, what a surprise it is to see you here!” She walked over to him. “Can I get you something to drink?” She knew immediately that it wasn’t by chance that he was here. He grabbed hold of her wrist and dragged her toward the door. “Let go of me, Nathan, you’re hurting me!” she protested.

“I don’t think so.” He spoke to her through clenched teeth. “Not until you and I have a little talk.” The tavern’s other patrons thought it was only a lover’s quarrel, so no one offered to help her as he led her to the door. Once outside, he dragged her into the alley on the side of the tavern and held her against the wall with one strong hand.

“What do you want, Nathan? Let me go before I scream.” Nathan took his free hand, held it tightly over her mouth, and leaned into her. His body was crushing her.

“I hear you haven’t been saying very nice things about me.” She shook her head vehemently, but it didn’t do her any good. “Oh, don’t lie to me, Miss Lorelei. I know it’s been you. You’ve already caused me enough trouble.” His face was so contorted with anger that she was frightened of what he might do. “You know, if I hadn’t been with you that night, she never would have known. It’s partly your fault that my dear, sweet Jillian broke off our engagement.” Lorelei’s eyes got big. “Oh, that’s right.” He paused. “You thought I was going to marry you.” He laughed hysterically, and the sound of it sent frightening chills throughout her body.

“You meant nothing to me! It was just a game—one I was disappointed at not winning.” He leaned close like he was going to kiss her, but pulled away again. “Jillian saw us together that night, me playing my game and you playing yours.” He paused dramatically as once again Lorelei looked taken aback. “Oh, did you think I believed anything you told me? I knew what you were all about the moment I saw you. But what I didn’t count on was you messing things up for me.”

He’s insane!
Lorelei thought desperately, but he kept going on.

“She must have heard you say my name. I didn’t even know she was watching until the next day when her brother”—Nathan paused long enough to make a hissing sound with his throat—“the high and mighty Mr. Marcus Grey, came and broke my nose.”

Someone stumbled by just then, and Lorelei tried to make a sound to get his attention. Nathan pressed his hand harder against her mouth, causing tears to come to her eyes. He just stared at her for a moment. All of a sudden, his voice turned sweet and milky.

“Come now, Lorelei. I hate to see a woman cry. Please don’t cry.” He took his hand off her mouth and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’ve made her cry, too. That’s why I’m leaving for Wisconsin tomorrow—to bring her back. She’s sad, and I intend to make her happy again. She loves me, you know. She has loved me since she was a child.”

Lorelei stood frozen, wide-eyed. She was no longer crying. This was worse than when he was angry. He kept rambling. “She belongs to me. I’m going to get her back, and we’ll go away together. She doesn’t belong to him. She could never love him.” His voice was growing angry again. Lorelei looked around desperately for a way to escape. “They won’t take her away from me.” His lip curled. “She’s mine!” he shouted and looked back down at her. Instantly, his voice was soft again and he brushed his fingers across her face, wiping away an imaginary tear. She shuddered at his touch. “I’ve made you cry.” He brought his fingers to his lips, and then he dropped both of his hands to his sides and walked away, leaving her standing alone, stunned and shaken in the alley.

Lorelei was still trembling badly when she went back into the tavern. Without saying a word to anyone, she gathered her things immediately and went home. She planned to leave Providence first thing in the morning.

Sometime during the middle of her sleepless night, Lorelei’s conscience began to bother her. Maybe she was partly responsible for sending Nathan over the edge. What if he did something crazy to that poor girl? She knew she should warn her somehow, but Nathan said she was living in Wisconsin. He did mention a brother, Marcus Grey. And she knew her first name, Jillian. She would do right by this woman.

Lorelei turned and looked back at the grand house one more time. “Good luck, Miss Jillian Grey. I pray he does not find you,” she said before walking away and heading to the train station.

The sun was filtering into Jillian’s room. She opened her eyes and groaned. Staying in bed longer would have been wonderful, but she knew she had more to do than she could possibly have time for. As she tried to sit up, her muscles ached in protest. Unfortunately, she had come down with the stomach sickness yesterday morning that Brenn had had the day before. She had spent the better part of the day either emptying the contents of her stomach or unmoving in bed. She hadn’t even felt up to comforting the children after they learned of poor Old Decker’s fate.

Her stomach growled, and with no small effort, Jillian managed to sit up on the edge of the bed, but didn’t move any further. Her head pounded. If she were still living with her parents, she would have crawled back under the covers, but people were counting on her here. She was needed. As it was, Dalton had to miss an entire day of work in the fields to care for the children because Aunt Betty was unavailable. Mrs. Collins, another neighbor, had reached the end of her confinement, and Aunt Betty was helping with the birthing. She wasn’t due home until later today at the earliest.

There was a knock at the door, and Lisa poked her head in for a moment, then quickly backed out, shutting the door. Jillian could hear her scurry back down the hall. She didn’t know what Lisa was up to, but she did know that if the children were already up, it was later than she thought.

Jillian was just about to attempt standing when she heard another knock. She could hear the girls whispering outside the door. This time Jenny poked her head in and smiled. Jillian smiled back weakly. All at once, Jenny was gone again, but only for a second this time. Lisa pushed the door open and held it while Jenny carried a breakfast tray inside the room.

“Mornin’, Ma,” Jenny said shyly.

“Mornin’, Ma,” Lisa echoed.

“Pa said we should bring you some breakfast when you woke up, ’cause you’d be real hungry.” Jenny walked over and stood in front of her with the tray.

“And you’re awake now.” Lisa noted and walked over to stand beside the bed.

Jillian smiled down at her. “Yes, I’m awake.”

“You need to sit back so I can put the tray on your lap so you can eat your breakfast in bed.” Jenny informed her.

“Oh, is that what I’m supposed to do?” Jillian quizzed her with a smile.

“Uh-huh,” Lisa answered this time. “That’s the way we always do it ’round here when we is sick.”

“When we
are
sick,” Jillian corrected.

Lisa nodded and then continued, “ ’Cept Brenn. He’s still too little.”

Obediently, Jillian sat back in the bed, and Jenny placed the tray on her lap. She looked down at the food before her. There was a bowl of some sort of soup, a piece of bread, and a glass of milk. Off to the side, there was a small vase with a few wildflowers in it. She reached over and caressed one of the petals thoughtfully.

“I picked the flowers myself,” Lisa offered. She came closer to Jillian, leaned over, and looked at the food on her tray, wrinkling her nose. “You really gonna eat that stuff?” Jillian nodded her head. “It don’t look real good to me. Pa made me hotcakes. They wasn’t as good as the ones you make, but I just put some extra syrup on.” Lisa licked her lips. “I tried to get Pa to let me bring you hotcakes—not that stuff—but he says you can’t eat hotcakes today.” She wrinkled her nose again. “It has veggietables in it, you know. I saw Pa put them in. He cooked them first and mashed them up.” Lisa leaned in conspiratorially. “Maybe so you wouldn’t know they was in there,” she whispered. She peered into the bowl of soup again. “You real sure you want to eat that?” Jillian smiled and as if in answer to her question, her stomach growled again.

“Lisa, I think you’d better leave your ma alone long enough to get something into that noisy stomach of hers.” Jillian looked up, startled at the sound of Dalton’s voice. She blushed as she thought again of his last visit to her room. With her sudden illness, she hadn’t had the time or the strength to analyze his abrupt departure that night. Dalton stood leaning in the doorway watching them.

“But Pa,” Lisa grumbled, “I want to see if she really eats it!”

“Now, Lisa, do as I say,” Dalton said firmly. He looked over at Jenny. “You too, Jenny. Why don’t you both go see what Brenn’s up to before he tears the house apart.”

“Thank you, girls!” Jillian called as both girls started toward her bedroom door.

As Lisa walked by him, still grumbling, Dalton reached down and ruffled the top of her hair. When Jenny walked past him, he put his hand on her shoulder to stop her, moved it under her chin, and turned her face up to look at him. “You were a lot of help to me, Jenny, both yesterday and today. I’m real proud of you. Now, run off to school.” Jenny smiled up at him before giving him a big hug and skipping the rest of the way out of the room.

Dalton remained in the doorway, looking at Jillian for a moment. She suddenly realized how frightful she must look, and immediately her hands went to her hair.

Dalton smiled. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Much better, thank you.” Realizing how silly she must look, she dropped her hands back down in front of her. “And thank you for the food. It really does look wonderful.” And as if by perfect timing, her stomach growled once more. “My stomach thinks so too,” she added with an embarrassed grimace.

Dalton laughed as he walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. Without looking up, he reached over, took one of her hands in his, and began tracing the lines on her palm with his finger. It sent a familiar tingling sensation up her arm, and she felt goose bumps appear as she watched him. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. She heard him take in a deep breath and let it out again.

“Jillian.” It was the first time he had called her by her given name, and her heart responded to the sound of her name from his lips. He finally looked up into her eyes. “I was thinking that maybe when you’re up to it,” he paused a moment before continuing, “that is, if you would like to—” He looked back down at her hand and began tracing the lines again. He took a deep breath again and looked into her eyes once more. “The thing is—I’ve been thinking about a lot of things. Things we’ve said to each other and things we haven’t.” He paused again, but didn’t look away this time. His eyes were mesmerizing her, yet she was keenly aware that he was still playing with her hand. He had no idea of the effect it was having on her. Obnoxiously, her stomach would not be ignored any longer, and it let out an angry roar. Dalton dropped her hand and stood up.