The Willows (50 page)

“
Peter, Paul, Christopher,
where are you?”

It do not help of the clouds were fast
overtaking the sun, that the rapidly shifting sky charge that air
with a sense of urgency. Driving through the swamp night would be
hard enough; rain will make it impossible.

She was almost to the rose garden when
she spied the boys at the dock, deep in conversation with Lance.
When she called for them to come to the house, Lance smiled
pleasantly and went on his way. There was nothing sinister in his
talking to the children, she told herself, yet she had the mounting
sensation that something was wrong.

“
Gwen?”

She couldn’t stop the tiny whimper of
alarm as her uncle touched her shoulder. “Uncle, my heavens, I had
no idea you were behind me.”

“
I had not meant to frighten
you. I saw you out strolling, and realized it’s been far too long
since I had a chat with my niece.”

He was trying to be nice, Gwen suppose,
but in her present mood, it struck a false note. “I am rather busy,
uncle.”

“
I’m sorry if I was a bit
mean earlier, but this business with your father has been hard for
all of us. You must see that you are not making things
easier.”

“
If this is about me
marrying Lance-“

“
Not at all.” He shook his
head. “I reckon you must have your reasons for giving
up.”

“
Uncle”

“
The thing is, I fear I’m
partly to blame for your ordeal. It might seem terribly romantic,
him chasing after you and caring you off, but the sad truth is
honestly, Michael was merely taking his revenge on us.”

“
I doubt that. We have
talked about it.”

“
Did he mention why your
father chased his family from the Willows?”

About sick of plain that he never let
her finish a sense, Gwen became instantly attentive.

“
It pains me to tell you
this, but I reckon you are old enough to know now the truth. Your
father liked Michael’s mother. The only reason he kept leasing the
land to them, was so John could keep that woman under his
thumb.”

“
No,” he protested. “He
loved it mother.”

“
That he did, but he’d been
raised to be the Lord of the Manor, and saw no reason why he
couldn’t have both, his lady and his mistress. Only his mother
would not comply. Even with her husband dead, she refused to give
into John, until he was angry enough to evict her. I was there the
day he was ordered her off. Young as he was, Michael stared your
father straight in the eye and swore to get revenge.”

Poor Michael, she thought. How like him
to say nothing of her father’s cruelty. Unlike Lance, he’d never
been one for carrying on tales.

“
Is partly John’s fault that
you were kidnapped,” he went on, “but I’m too to blame as well. I
still think Michael cheated, but he so smooth at playing cards, I
never could prove it. All I know for certain is I woke up one
morning owing him a large amount of money. I think it is the same
amount he asked for in the ransom note.”

“
Did you pay it?”

“
There is no need. Not now
that you’ve come home to us.”

In made her furious, that he’d never
meant part with a penny to spare her life, yet he could stand and
pretend family devotion. “I did not come home for you,” she
snapped. “I’m here to get the money Michael needs.”

“
Now wait-“

“
No, you wait. You made a
good profit with that tournament, part of which should be mine. I
suggest you pay my husband the money you him, before help people
discover just how much you owe to everyone.”

His eyes narrowed. “Lance is right. You
have changed.”

He meant it as an insult, but Gwen took
it as a compliment. “I hope so. I’m not a little girl anymore, to
be bullied into be lied to, and I will not tolerate either you or
Lance disrespecting my husband again. If you can keep that in mind,
you are welcome to stay at the Willows, but if not, perhaps it is
time you found a home elsewhere.”

He bristled, looking down his nose at
her. “You need to be married. You need a man to put you in your
place, a husband who knows how to curb your
willfulness.”

His arrogance made her so angry she
shook. “I already have a husband, a man who knows quite well how to
deal with me, and had to handle men like you. I can tell you right
now, uncle, you’d better practice up on dealing with us both in a
more respectful manner, or in the long run, you will wish you
had.”

She turned then, still trembling with
anger, missing the dark lower her uncle gave her back.

***

Jervis watched Gwen walk off,
frustrating and loafing building in his chest. He thought Lance had
conjure stubbornness, but he could see now that there would be no
convincing the girl she’d made a mistake. If Gwen would demand
money for that worthless Michael, then she wasn’t about to wed
Lance while the man was still alive.

As of three boys darted past, he grown
in frustration. Couldn’t Lance do anything right? He had told them
to ask the little one-Christopher-for the location of Michael’s
house. He thought he would be most likely to reveal the information
since he was so young.

Whispering an oath, Jervis himself went
after the boys to get the information. Hattie his father insisted
that he get anything done correctly, you must do it right yourself?
Gazing up at the house, aware of how little time his brother had
left, Jervis new he was left with far too few options. Gwen had to
be freed to marry Lance, and soon, or his plans would explode in
his face.

Look like tonight they would be taking
a trip to the swamp.

Chapter 22

Gwen stepped quietly into her father’s
room. She thought herself prepared, but it still came to a shocked
to see him so with her. This couldn’t be her real father. It was as
if someone had taken out all of this stuffing, and let the remains
of this scarecrow of the man.

Throat tightening as she approached,
Gwen felt the same dread she had as a child, knowing nothing she
could do would justify her actions to him. She could help but wish
that just once before he died, her father would judge her and not
find her lacking.

It hurt how little time she had. Death
had become far more than some abstract concept; it was a thief,
lurking in the shadows, waiting to take her father away. His
labored breathing, each line of pain etched into his face, made it
clear that he had it much longer, then this could be the last
chance they had to understand each other.

He lay immobile, and inaccessible, with
his head turned away. “Hello, daddy,” he said, stopping beside his
head. “It’s me, Gwen. I’ve come home to see you.”

He turned, his eyes taking her in, but
his expression gave nothing away. She wanted-needed-some physical
contact, but he his hands crossed at his chess, buried beneath the
covers. “Don’t you take pity on me, girl,” he rasped.

“
I’m not,” she said quickly,
but, of course, she was. It must be awful for him, and having so
little control over what life you had left.

“
I neither want nor deserve
sympathy,” he went on, typically ignoring her. “I lived hard and
now I’m going to die hard.” He nodded at envelope on the bedside
table, propped against a glass. “That says pretty much all there
needs to be said, but I want you to wait until after I’m gone to
read it.”

He looked away, holding his body rigid.
“Never been good with words. Most likely lost me your mother. That
and my own conceit.”

Thinking back, she saw that mother had
been proud, too. How many of the problems could have been avoided,
if they just kept talking to each other? Gwen had a sudden strong
urge to be with Michael, to hold himm and straighten out their own
misunderstandings, but heard father seem so small and lost on the
huge white pillow, and she knew she must talk to him
first.

“
One thing I need to tell
you now,” he said is suddenly. “I will be leaving the Willows to
your cousin.”

He study her carefully after shooting
the canon blast, no doubt to assess the damage. Ghen was stunned-no
denying it-yet the more she got used to the idea, the more she
liked it.

“
That makes you
smile?”

Actually, it did. Better her cousin get
the plantation than Jervis. “Edith deserves the Willows. She stayed
by you, nurse you, been more like a daughter you and mother
wanted.”

He winced. Hard to tell if it was his
pain or her words that caused it. “All the hard work, and my own
child doesn’t want my plantation?”

Her first thought was to argue, to
reassure him that he punished are well with his file gesture, but
perhaps it was time she started talking truthfully. “I used to
think I couldn’t live without the Willows, that being its princess
was the answer to all my dreams. But I have fallen in love, daddy,
deeply in love, and because of it, I realized that the Willows was
your dream, not mine.”

“
Love? You talking about
Michael?”

She nodded. “Remember how you used to
say I was too stubborn and independent for my own good? Well, now I
have a husband just like me. Michael is too proud to walk in the
shadow, and the Willows would always come between us. I’m glad
Edith will inherited it, because she’ll do right by it, but I need
to be free to build my own dream, with Michael.”

He closes eyes. She waited for him to
say something, anything, but the quiet built, and the wall between
them strengthened. Her hand reached out, aching to touching, to
reach them, but he remains stiff and closed to her, so she let it
drop uselessly to her side.

“
You hold onto that love,”
he said in a broken voice. “The hardest part about dying, I’ve
found, is dying alone.”

All at once, she could see her father
clearly. John was a proud man, whose pride had kept him in prison.
Even now, in the last hours of his life, it prevented him from
saying what he felt in his heart.

Determined not to make his mistake,
Gwen swallow the lot in her throat. “You are not alone,” she told
him quickly, again reaching out with her hand. “I am here, daddy.
I’ve always been here. I never stopped loving you.”

His eyes stayed close, his body stiff,
but a tentative hand still out to cover her own.

The tears slid down her cheek as she
gazed at their joint hands, then another as he tightened his grip.
Taking his hand in hers, she brought it to her lips. The famous
smile passed over his features before his face went slack, in the
hand in hers went limp.

Still she stood there, holding his
hand, until Homer came to pry her fingers loose. “Let him go,
Missy,” the old servant said softly. “Your daddy has gone to your
mama.”

***

Jude stared at the cabin door, feeling
a spur of hope with every sound, a rush of anger at each
disappointment. “It’s getting dark, Patrick,” she said. “She is not
coming.” She meant to sound aloof and uncaring, but the words came
out spiteful.

Her brother shook his head. “He said to
trust her,” he said firmly.

What a fake he was, pretending to carve
his wood. Anyone with eyes could see he’d glanced up at much as she
did. “You heard Michael. She will get in her big, fancy house, and
she will want to stay here. The boys neither. They are not coming
back, none of them. She felt hurt, but trade, and she wanted the
ugly feeling to go away. Touching the locket that Gwen had said was
a link between them, Jude willed this silly old door to
open.

***

“
Looks like the vat is
leaking. This whole sugarhouse is ready to fall down on its
ears.”

Nodding at Casper, his field hand,
Michael eyed of that in question. Everywhere you turn he found
another problem. Was there anything on this plantation that hadn’t
fallen into ruin? The sugarhouse near a complete overhaul, but
there was neither funds, nor time. Michael only hope was to work
day and night, making minimal repairs, and praying he could keep
the place functioning throughout the harvest.

Bringing his lantern closer, he leaned
down to inspect the league. He knew he should make the repairs at
night, since he had a long list of other tasks to do to finish in
the morning, but as Michael kept drifting back to the
cabin.

All day, he was thinking of his return,
half hoping, and half dreading what he’d find when he got there. If
Gwen were waiting with the children, and they could talk and iron
out the differences between them, but if not, he noted he drilled
her off with his doubts and accusations. He had forced her into
what he’d been trying so hard to prevent. By demanding she make the
choice, he sent her straight into the arms of Lance?

Did it matter? He couldn’t win anyway.
Keeping Gwen took money, which meant the voting every walking out
to the harvest. This posed a problem, when he also had to be with
her to explain himself and make a man’s. It all took time,
something he did not have at the moment.