Before the Scarlet Dawn (32 page)

Reaching the house a half hour later, Hayward halted his horse and brought Darcy down. He glanced up at the window that belonged to his bedchamber. The curtains were open, and a single candle glimmered in the broad casement.

Before he mounted the steps, Sarah hurried out the front door, her face drawn and haggard with worry. Her dress was torn and the hem muddy. He had no time to question why. In silence, Hayward passed her and carried Darcy inside. He set her down, pulled off his coat and hat, and yanked off his gloves.

His house had changed. It seemed somber and dim. No streams of moonlight flowed through the windows as before. The house smelled old, and a musty odor hung in the air.

At the foot of the staircase he paused, then took Darcy’s hand and proceeded upstairs. Ahead of him, Fiona opened the door, and he stepped over the threshold. He tugged at his neckcloth to ease the knot in his throat. A grim pall lay over his wife’s face, which he knew would haunt him the remainder of his life.

The embroidered coverlet over her hadn’t a single crease upon it. A stump of a candle burned on the table beside the bed, the tiny flame shimmering over a glass bottle of water and a drinking glass. On the dressing table were her brush, comb, and powder box, the lid of the box cracked. He had done that—in a moment of rage. He should not have dashed them to the floor the way he did, but he justified his action. Anger and pain had driven him to do it—it was Eliza’s fault.

She lay dressed in a white chemise, the bedclothes tucked about her body. The lids of her eyes were motionless, and her face looked as pale as the sheets on which she lay. His heart tightened in his chest to see her in such a state. Deep within, the love he had for her forced its way through steel and stone. The thought of losing her caused a deeper wound to open. But it twisted shut when he thought of Eliza’s betrayal, and his bitterness beat back any tender feelings.

Darcy peeked around his leg. He looked down at her, saw how her eyes widened. She whimpered at the sight of her mother. Fiona turned her away, but Hayward insisted she stay.

“Come. Look upon your mother, Darcy.” He moved her gently forward.

“Wake up, Mama,” Darcy whispered.

Hayward set his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “She cannot.”

Darcy shuddered and looked up at him. “Why, Papa?”

“She’s going away.”

“To Heaven to be with the Ilene?”

“I do not believe so, Darcy. You’ve heard of Hell, have you not? Well, that is where your mama will be. You see, if you are a bad person and sin—that is where you will go. That is where your mother is going . . . forever.”

Aghast, Fiona threw her arm around Darcy and moved her back. “Mr. Morgan! That is a cruel thing to tell the child.”

“Why should I withhold the truth from her?”

“It is not right to put such things in her head and cause her to fear.”

He felt the heat rise in his face. “I will not have you instruct me.” He reached for Darcy, grabbed her hands, and yanked her against him. Darcy took in a quick breath. Tears fell from her eyes, down her cheeks, and over her trembling lips. She snatched her hands away from her father’s rough ones and stood back with balled fists.

“Mama won’t be there, Papa. Mama will go to Heaven.”

“You have to know the truth, Darcy. Bad people do not go to Heaven.”

She shook her head. “No, Papa. Mama will be in Heaven with Ilene. Mama is good.”

Jerking away, Darcy hurried to her mother’s bedside. She climbed into the bed and put her hands upon Eliza’s cheeks. “Wake, Mama! Wake!”

The warm touch of her child’s hands against her cheeks caused Eliza to open her eyes. When she saw Darcy’s troubled face, she wrapped her arms around her and held her close. She looked over to see Hayward standing nearby. “Hayward. You have come back.”

He said nothing at first. “I am leaving in the morning on business. I may be gone several days. Are you well enough to care for Darcy?”

Weakly she smiled. “Yes.” She caressed the curls falling down Darcy’s back. “I will recover now that she is with me.”

“Then it is just what I thought. Pretense.” He turned away and walked out. The bang of the door sounded deliberate as he passed through it. Eliza’s heart sunk. She read in his movements, in the tone of his voice, that he had not forgiven her, that she had not won back his heart.

Before the scarlet dawn broke, the candle on her bedside table died. Darcy curled up beside her and set her hand in Eliza’s. Fiona sat in the chair across from her, with Sarah nearby on the window seat.

“Go to bed, Fiona, Sarah,” she said.

Fiona rose and shuffled toward the door. Eliza smiled over at her when she looked back and pulled the door closed. But Sarah stayed. “I won’t leave you until I know you are sleeping well,” she said, then turned back to the window and the moonlight coming through it.

As the sun rose, Eliza listened to footfalls going down the stairs. A moment, and the front door opened and slammed shut. Outside, Gareth whinnied and the hollow sound of hoofbeats retreated down the lane.

Hayward. Come back to me. Forgive me, my love.

She closed her eyes and prayed God would make a way where there seemed to be no way.

30

L
ess than a week later, Hayward returned to River Run. Though Eliza had no idea what day he’d step through the door, she had prepared herself for his homecoming. She gave special attention to her hair, washing it with an egg mixture and rinsing it with rainwater from the barrel outside. She bathed and powdered her body, and scented her clothes with lavender.

She was standing out on the porch when he rode up and dismounted. A gentle smile graced her lips, and he looked at her, somewhat pleased at her appearance. Still, she wondered where he had gone.

“You are looking well, Eliza. Feeling better?”

“I am. Even more, now that you are home.” She lingered where she stood, even though the desire to hurry into his arms overwhelmed her. She waited, her palms slick and her heart yearning, as he dusted off his tricorn hat against his thigh and proceeded to the door.

He paused in front of her and looked down into her face. “I’ve had a long ride and am worn out. But I wish to speak with you.”

Swallowing her worry, she followed him inside. He pulled her by the arm into his study, then shut the door and locked it. “I do not want anyone disturbing us. Open the windows, if you would.”

The sashes went up easily for Eliza, and she breathed in the fresh air. Feeling hopeful, she turned back to Hayward, set her hand on his arm, leaned up, and kissed his cheek. He did not draw her to him as he used to. But he was tired, she thought. She must give him time to recover from his journey.

“Sit down, Eliza,” he told her in a level voice, absent of anger.

He sat across from her and leaned forward. Then he told her his plan—things she had not expected. But what good was it to argue? He was her husband, her head, and her law.

“Now, you must listen to me carefully,” he began. “I will have no opposition from you. My word is my will, and you must accept it. Remember wives are to obey their husbands in all things. Do you understand?”

A small spark of hope still lived within her. Perhaps his plan would somehow heal their marriage, and bring about the forgiveness she longed for. With her head low, she nodded. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good. Be silent as I speak.” He took a breath and proceeded. “I had this time away to think about our situation. I can forgive the fact you went to Halston thinking I was dead, that you were grieving and in despair, thus making you vulnerable. I can believe this was the first and only time you were alone with him. But I have no doubt he courted your friendship in order to weaken you to him. Everything you have told me, his aid during the snows and when the Indians attacked, gave him opportunity to win your affection. You were here alone, without me, and your loneliness was his mark. I cannot deny I am grateful he came to your aid, especially in regards to your capture. I have seen with my own eyes what the Indians can do to a woman. We can praise God you were spared.”

Eyes warm, she looked up at him. “Then you understand?”

“In some things I do.”

She touched his hand with gentle fingertips. “Then you are willing to begin again?”

Withdrawing, he settled back against the chair. “Yes, but not in the way you may be thinking.”

Disappointed, she felt her eyes flicker with tears. She fought them, steeling herself for the blow. “What do you mean, Hayward?”

“Your reputation has changed, Eliza. Did you not notice the way the women at Sabbath services snubbed you? How the men glowered. How Reverend Hopewell looked at you with a strange pity. They all know.”

“I am sorry, my love,” she said, her emotions rising.

“I know you are. But for both our sakes, and for Darcy, you must do the following if you are willing to save our marriage and safeguard our daughter.”

Determined to keep him, she answered, “I would do anything.”

“I am glad to hear it, because what I require you to do will cause you pain. But you must bear it. With God’s help you will.”

Her heart stood still and her blood ran cold. “Sometimes pain is necessary to heal a wound. Tell me, Hayward, what it is you want me to do.”

Shifting in his chair, he hesitated. Then he stood. “You and I are going to Annapolis. We leave tomorrow.”

A smile graced her lips, warmed her heart. Time away. Time to renew their love and commitment to one another. It seemed the perfect plan. “Annapolis? Yes, it will be good for us to go away for a little while, to get to know each other again, love again . . .”

Displeasure glinted in his eyes. He raised his hand to stop her from going any further. “No, Eliza. Say nothing more. Just listen to me.” His gruff tone arrested her, and caused her hopes to plunge.

“I received word that my father has passed away—a heart ailment of some kind, or more likely a blood vessel ruptured when he was in a rage. It has caused a malaise to overtake my mother. She is gravely ill. I met with Will on his way to settling in a house not far from here. His wife is too frail to leave his side . . .”

Eliza’s sadness lifted. “Your half brother, his wife and children? They are settling here after all?”

“Must you interrupt me?”

She lowered her eyes. “I am sorry. I did not mean to. It’s just that this is very good news.”

“It has little to do with what my plans are for us. In Annapolis, you will board a ship, where you are to go back to England . . . You are to help my mother recover.”

Fear pulsed through her, and she stood. “No.”

“You will obey me in this, Eliza.”

“Hayward, please. Oh, God . . .”

“You are to stay at Havendale until she is well.”

“It could be months, perhaps a year or more. And Darcy is too young to be without me. And why can we not all go to England together? Why must you send me alone?”

“I have already explained why. I shouldn’t have to repeat myself.”

Tears drifted down her cheeks. “Can I not take Darcy with me?”

“Not when my mother is so ill.”

Bewildered, she shook her head. “Why should we separate and give up our life because of a few gossips? In time, they will forget. I know that is the true reason you want to send me away. You are worried about your good name, which you say I have blackened. Our love is more important than what people think.”

“Stop the tears, Eliza. I won’t be swayed by them.”

She swiped the tears off her face and sat down. Indifference shone on Hayward’s face. Sunlight came through the window, blanching her face, and she gazed up at him. If words could not plead her case, her look could. “Do not send me away. Please. I cannot be without Darcy or you. Do not separate us.”

The silence that came over Hayward said it all. Eliza knew she could not reason with him, or change his mind. Her remorse deepened. Her sin had damaged all those she loved. Even River Run suffered in the heat, in the flame that consumed all their hopes and dreams for a good life and a lasting legacy. No longer would this be the blessed land Hayward had fought for. She had shattered both his heart and his dreams.