Kathleen Y'Barbo (31 page)

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Authors: Millie's Treasure

BOOK: Kathleen Y'Barbo
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It was only when Kyle had returned to the hotel and began to unload the camera and plates from his satchel did he realize he had not told her the truth about his ability to be discreet. For if the treasure was truly from the pirate Lafitte, or a more modern Civil War pirate, then he was obligated to alert the authorities.

Depending on the depth of knowledge and amount of complicity Millie exhibited, she might join her father behind bars. And he would be the man to turn the key and testify against them both.

Millie watched the aviator slip out the window and disappear into the darkness, knowing he had stolen her heart. She closed her eyes and allowed each nuance of their moments together to press in. The conversation, the embrace, the kisses. And then his promise...

A loud knock at the door made her jump.

“I know you are in there, Mildred Cope!” Her father paused as some sort of scraping sound began. “I’ve brought a workman, and he will be removing the door from its hinges. My suggestion, young lady, is that you save him the trouble.”

She froze. This time there was no flying machine by which to escape. Nor could she wait out the man who was intent on coming inside by any means necessary.

Millie was finally well and truly caught.

“Coming, Father,” she called. “I’m just looking for the key now.”

She quickly slipped the chain back around her neck. Only then did she see the foolscap, now fluttering to the floor. She tucked it into her pocket.

How easy it would be to fly away. To escape the tightrope she walked between pleasing her father and buying time until she found the freedom she craved.

“I’ve located the key,” she said as she tried jabbing it into the lock, only to have it fall to the floor.

“Mildred—”

“Just a minute!” Another try and again her shaking fingers failed her. She threw the key into the cold ashes of the fireplace.

“Daughter, I demand you cease your stalling and open the door this instant!”

“I’m afraid I’m locked in.” She looking anxiously around the room and knew she had to move quickly.

Father swore a blistering oath, but by the time the workman had removed the door from its hinges, Millie had managed to fill some of the boxes that had been left in preparation for packing up her things.

Mama’s Bible had already been safely tucked away, along with Millie’s sketchbooks and some of her more precious possessions. In all,
she was able to set aside three boxfuls of items she hoped she might save before Father pressed past the workman to barge inside. He found her placing
Faust
into
a box as if were the most natural thing ever. Perhaps he would believe she had taken up with Sir William again and would be moving soon. Whatever it required to keep her things and placate Father, at least for now, she would gladly do it.

“What in the name of...” He stopped short, causing the valet who had been following him to nearly run him down. After a slow glance around the room, his attention finally landed on Millie.

“I’m terribly sorry,” she said in her most innocent tone.

“What is all of this?” he demanded before turning to stare at his valet. “Did you know my daughter was hiding this place up here?”

“The responsibility is mine alone,” she said, attempting to direct her father’s anger back where it belonged.

“Mildred, you would have me believe you carried all of this up here without assistance?”

“Really, Father,” she said as she closed the box and set it aside. “Does it matter? I’ve done as you asked and kept any hint of my tendency toward the pursuit of science and reading out of the sight of anyone who might be bothered by it.”

Eyes the color of hers narrowed as her father rested both hands on his hips. “You know what I meant.”

Straightening her spine, Millie pressed her palm to the table and refused to back down. “You asked that I not embarrass this family. Well, I have not. So if you take issue with anything, take issue with the fact that you did not specifically outlaw the practice of my hobbies under your roof.”

He looked beyond her to the stack of boxes. “And what is all of that?”

Millie replied calmly, “That is a portion of the items I will be transporting with me when I travel.”

“So you have mended your engagement with Sir William?”

She could have lied and soothed his temper, but no good would come of it. Instead, she remained silent a moment too long, leaving him the opportunity to continue.

“Indeed you have not. Or at least you had not as of this afternoon, when Sir William and I met.”

His expression seemed to require her to respond. Still, she remained quiet.

“Well, no matter. I cannot allow such frivolity.” He glanced over his shoulder at the valet. “Take these boxes out and burn them. Then come back and do the same with all the rest.”

“No!” Millie exclaimed, stunned. “Please, Father, no. Mama’s Bible is in there, and...”

Words failed her then, and she was left to fight tears. The valet offered a pitying look as he collected the boxes.

“I want this room stripped to the walls!” He shouted to the man’s retreating back. “And because it is obvious my staff knew this den of iniquity was under my roof, you can gather every last one of them and send them up here to do the job.”

“Yes, Mr. Cope,” the valet said from the other side of the attic.

Millie was shaking now. Though her father was a strong man, Millie felt no fear as she stood before him. Just sorrow for the incredible loss she was facing. He had struck a blow to her heart for the last time.

His gaze swept her face, and a glimmer of some unspoken emotion flickered in his eyes as his expression softened. “You look very much like her, you know.”

“Father,” she said carefully, “you’ve taken everything else. Please, do not take the rest. I am begging you.”

But the words died away without so much as a reaction from him. And then, just when Millie thought he might speak, might relent, he grasped her necklace and pulled, the gold links tearing tender flesh as they broke and fell free. The locket landed in his palm, and the cypher went rolling away to lodge beneath the worktable.

“What are you doing?” she cried.

“Making good on a promise,” he said as he regarded the locket for a moment and then slipped it into his vest pocket. “Sir William has assured me you may have your bauble back after the wedding. As he and I have formed a business relationship I am not keen to see end, I am in agreement with him on this. Now, compose yourself and find a way to remedy the trouble you have caused.”

She could never wed Sir William. Not after the lies he had told, and especially not when thoughts of the handsome inventor had begun to
steal her heart. Even to save Mama’s locket, she could not do that.

“There must be another way,” she blurted out.

“I assure you there is not.” Father turned his back to walk as far as the door before pausing. “I hope someday you will realize I am doing all of this for your own good, Mildred.”

“My own good?” Her back stiffened and she clenched her fists. “It appears I am losing everything, while you and Sir William have gained it all. How can you possibly insinuate that I might—”

“You always were dramatic,” he said, cutting her off. “You should find Sir William at my office tomorrow afternoon. Do not miss this opportunity.”

“If I will speak to him, would you allow me to keep my things?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I doubt he wishes to be burdened with a wife whose mind is on something other than him.” And then he was gone.

She fell to her knees on the stained rug and pressed her face into it. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied the cypher and hurriedly stuffed it into her pocket as tears joined the linseed and turpentine and the flecks of paint on the floor covering beneath her.

Vaguely she became aware of footsteps returning. The staff arrived, eyes downcast, and their attentions were focused anywhere but on Millie. Books and paintbrushes and all the other accouterments of her private sanctum went into boxes headed for the burn barrels, while she remained anchored to Mama’s favorite rug, her heart too numb now to hurt.

Sometime later, she must have closed her swollen eyes and dreamt of flying machines and handsome aviators who thought her interesting and not an embarrassment, for at a tap on her shoulder she awakened with a start. Pale lamplight illuminated the now nearly bare room.

Cook knelt before her. Without a word, she gathered Millie into her arms and held her while she cried.

Finally Cook held the younger woman at arm’s length and offered her a handkerchief of fine linen embroidered with the stylized family crest.

“Land and sea,” she said when she noticed Millie looking.

“The same as my pearls,” Millie whispered as she looked up into the old woman’s eyes.

“It was a gift, and now I’m giving it to you.” She paused to take the square of cloth from Millie’s hand. “Now, let’s see what we can do to get
you fixed up here,” she said as she dabbed at Millie’s face. “You’re still just as pretty as your mama.”

“Father said I look very much like her.”

“You do,” she said gently, “and that may be why he finds it so hard to see you when he just as well might be looking at her.” She sighed. “Come on, child. Let’s get out of this room. There’s no reason to stay and watch it all go.”

Millie allowed Cook to help her stand and then followed as far as the door. Pausing in the doorway, she turned back to see the effect of the dismantling of her sanctuary.

“Why did You allow this, God?” she whispered as her fingers curled around the edge of the door.

“Come on now,” Cook urged. “You don’t need to be asking things of the Lord Almighty unless you want to hear the answer. And I’m not sure you’re ready for that.”

Millie turned to face the woman who had known her mother since childhood. “I’ve lost everything—including the locket,” she said as tears once again threatened. “I cannot imagine a better time to hear from Him.”

An expression Millie could not quite define crossed Cook’s face and then quickly disappeared. “He got the locket and the cypher too?”

“Just the locket,” Millie said. “I have the cypher in my pocket.”

“Then I guess maybe you’re right, but you haven’t lost everything.” She touched her sleeve. “You got family it’s about time you knew about, child.”

“Family?” Millie’s heart surged. “Really?”

“Come on down to the kitchen and let’s you and me have a talk. See, a Mrs. Koch who is kin to your grandmama just might still be living on Royal Street down in New Orleans. I bet if I look for it I can find the paper where I wrote the house number down.”

“A relative?”

“That’s right. Now come on out of this room. You have not left anything you need. It is all right there in your heart.”

Eighteen

K
yle circled around the Cope house to follow the plume of black smoke. There he found a raging bonfire in the alley with a half dozen servants milling about in the cold. Though he could not hear their grumbling, it was obvious their exercise in fire building was not one they were keen to complete.

He glanced up at the room where he had left Millie some time ago. Why he had come back was a mystery to him. He had developed the photographs and found all he needed within the pictures. The items he had lined up to document for evidence showed perfectly in the light, and even the writing on the back of the locket’s miniature was visible if he used his spectacles.

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