Doves Migration (15 page)

“It is indeed,” Miranda replied softly. “Until Father and I came north,
I’ve never seen a lilac bush. Of all your grandmother’s flowers I enjoy
them the most.”
“Did you enjoy gardening at your home?” From his question, she knew
he wasn’t trying to pump her for information of their way of life on the
plantation, but rather what she enjoyed doing while she was there.
“Well before the war, I did. Unfortunately, after the war began, when
mother and I were forced to work the fields out of necessity to survive,
gardening seemed to lose its luster.” Thinking of Catherine Brown, her
mother, Miranda was able to picture her in filthy and torn clothing, which
brought a tear to Miranda’s eye.
“And now?” Tad asked.
“And now I think we should head back inside. Don’t you?”
Lovingly Tad gazed at her, his blue eyes dancing in the moonlight.
“Miranda, why not let me accompany you to the theatre, let’s say this
Friday, and we can begin again?”
Accustomed to his sandy hair and good looks over the years, never had
he looked as appealing as he did tonight, and her heartbeat quickened.
Embarrassed suddenly by his closeness, she softly asked, “Friday you say?
Of this week?”
Recalling how difficult it was for her father at the last minute to secure
tickets to a particular show that they had wanted to attend last fall, Miranda
asked, “Will that give you enough time to reserve seats?”
“Oh trust me, my dear, I mean Miranda. If you would honor me by
accepting, I will find a way.”
“Well Tad, with such kind words. How can I possibly refuse? Yes. I
would love to attend the theatre with you.”
Smiling fondly at him, Miranda suddenly was aware that she still had
her hand nestled in his arm and began to remove it as they reached the door
to reenter the Honeycutt’s home. Feeling her hand withdraw, Tad took her
hand and tenderly brushed it with his thumb before releasing it while
gazing at her lovingly as only a man does to a woman he adores.
“Thank you, Miranda. You have no idea how much you have pleased
me by accepting.”
Not certain how she should respond, Miranda stepped forward, waiting
for Tad to open the French door. Seeing him stand to the side, she frowned
at him. “Aren’t you coming inside?”
Shaking his head, Tad said, “No. I have another engagement.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize . . . I hope I didn’t detain you,” Miranda said,
puzzled as to why he had not appeared anxious to leave while they were
walking.
“Not at all. I look forward to this Friday, and I’m sure I’ll see you
tomorrow.”
Noting that Tad didn’t mention where he was going and knowing he
owed her no explanation, Miranda only smiled politely while turning--her
cheeks flushed and heart pounding like a schoolgirl--then she went inside.
As she entered Vivian’s private sitting room she was aware that all eyes
were on her, including Michael who had joined them.
“Ah Miranda, I thought Tad was with you?”
“He was, Mr. Honeycutt. However, he had another engagement,” she
said, hesitantly, seeing the concerned look on his face.
“Another engagement? This time of night?”
“I’m sure he won’t be out too late, darling,” Sarah said reassuringly,
noticing the look of concern in her husband’s eyes as she smiled lovingly at
him.
Not the least bit interested in listening to Sarah and Michael, Lavinia
said, “Miranda dear, we were just discussing having dinner at our home
this Friday night. I do hope you and Tad will be able to attend.”
“Friday, you say?” Miranda said hesitatingly, not believing her bad
luck and softly added. “I’m afraid I’ll have to excuse myself.”
“Oh no. It just wouldn’t be any fun without you and Tad there.”
Meekly Miranda, said, “I’m sorry, I’ve just agreed to dine out with
Tad, and attend the theatre this Friday evening.”
Flashing a smile toward Vivian, Lavinia said, “Oh how lovely! Well,
let’s you and I go shopping for a dress then tomorrow, shall we?” Turning
to look at James, who had now joined them, Lavinia said, “James dear, you
wouldn’t mind me buying a new dress would you? I seem to have ruined
my favorite last evening.”
Acting as the dutiful husband, James answered. “Why of course not,
dear. Anything you like will be fine with me.”
Taking advantage of a lull in the conversation, Benjamin looked at his
host and hostess, and said, “As lovely as this has been, I’m afraid my dear
wife and I must be calling it an evening. Six a.m. comes rather early.”
Lavinia winced inside at hearing Benjamin call Felicity his dear wife,
but concealed it by looking at Felicity with a tender smile. “Oh dear, what
a dreadful hour. Surely Benjamin, you know a woman needs her beauty
rest.”
As sympathetic as Lavinia’s words sounded, Felicity knew this was
Lavinia’s way of snidely saying she looked dreadful. Suddenly feeling very
homely and awkward, Felicity glanced at Benjamin. “Well, the children
need a lot of care. Hopefully someday soon, we both will have enough help
so the two of us can catch up on some badly needed rest.”
Judging by James’s eyes as he traced Felicity’s face adoringly, Lavinia
knew that her husband thought of his tart as anything but homely and
haggard. Silently she cringed as her jealousy mounted, yet she knew she
could do nothing about it but grin and bear the humiliation for the time
being. Realizing there wouldn’t be an opportunity to discuss her problems
with Vivian now that the gentlemen had joined them, Lavinia vowed to
make the time tomorrow morning.

Across town, Tad joined in a game of five-card stud. Sitting next to his
friend Daniel Hobbs, at a round table in the back of the dingy, poorly-lit
room of Jake’s pub, he dealt the last card to himself. Determined to win
some of the money he lost last night to that damned Irishman, Gilbert, Tad
casually slipped himself the ace that was buried on the bottom of the deck.

Casually picking up his hand, he showed no emotion at the ace-high
straight he dealt himself. Only the glimmer in Tad’s eyes betrayed his
excitement, knowing he was certain to win this hand. Glancing at Gilbert
over the top of his cards, Tad’s desire to shame his enemy intensified. Not
for the money he had consistently lost to the Irishman. But more
importantly, after seeing Miranda’s interest in Gilbert earlier in the garden,
Tad was hell bent on proving he was far more worthy of her attention than
this man he deemed as a worthless son-of-a-bitch. Clearing his throat, he
turned to Daniel.

“Hobbs, it’s up to you.”
“Not so fast, Honeycutt.” Gilbert grabbed Tad’s arm from across the
table. “Let’s be showing us all the ace of spades that was buried low hole.
I’d be wagering it has found its way miraculously into yer hand!”
Glaring back at him, Tad said, “Are you accusing me of cheating?”
“I’m doing more than calling you a cheater, ya lousy bastard! I’m here
to prove it.” Gilbert shouted, reaching across the table before Tad had a
chance to react, and grabbed him by the coat lapel, while knocking his
cards across the table.
Daniel, noticing the ace at the same time as Gilbert, reacted by
knocking into the table, resulting in the cards, money, and ale crashing to
the floor at Tad’s feet.
“Why you dirty low down scum! Can’t win the honest way can ya?
Gotta deal off the bottom of the deck?” Gilbert shouted.
“You damned liar!” Tad shouted back, knowing it was now his word
against Gilbert’s, since all the cards were scattered on the pub’s floor in a
pile. “You’re drunk and don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”
“That may be so, yer lordship. But why is it then that you got yourself
the ace of spades that was buried on the bottom of the deck? I saw it with
me own damned eyes when you were shuffling!”
Tad, outraged, reached on the dirty floor to retrieve the money and
cards that had fallen, spotting the ace of spades on top, he placed his boot
over the card and then threw the money at his accuser. “You don’t know
what you’re talking about! Here, take your damn money! Who needs it!
You’re only pissed off that the lady prefers me to the likes of you.”
“What the hell you talking about? What lady?” Gilbert shouted back.
“You know perfectly well what lady, you slimy bastard. Can I help it
that Miss Brown would rather associate with someone of means, rather
than a good-for-nothing like you? And since you can’t have her, you’re
trying to destroy my good name. Before you start accusing someone
unjustly of cheating, you better be damned sure you’re right in the future
you slimy-Mick.”
Realizing everyone in the entire bar was staring at the both of them,
Tad pulled the table back to an upright position and kicked the tin tankards
at his feet. Dramatically he then straightened his suit coat and took his seat
again. After confidently leaning back in his chair, with a snide look on his
face, Tad added for the benefit of those who were listening, “Hear me real
good O’Flaherty. People get themselves killed for trashing the good name
of honest folk here in America.”
“Bullshit! There ain’t an honest bone in yer body. And I caught ya dead
to rights!” As he flung himself across the table, his first blow clipped the
corner of Tad’s eye. Knocked off balance, Tad fell back in his chair onto
the floor of the pub. Recovering quickly, Tad jumped to his feet and flung
himself onto his attacker. Gilbert, anticipating Tad’s reaction, made his way
around the table to deliver another blow to Tad, but found the taller man
pinning him down across the table with a forceful strike to the head
instead.
The remaining men that had been sitting around the table, jumped from
their seats as the two men continued striking each other with their fists.
Within moments the fight ended abruptly when the owner of the pub,
breaking a whiskey bottle on the side of the bar, yelled, “Get out, Irish! We
don’t need the likes of you and that bad temper of yours tearing up my
place. Get out and don’t come back.”
“Me! I ain’t the one who’s just been caught cheating. You’d let that
bastard remain, but yer throwing me out? What the hell is going on here?”
Gilbert demanded.
“That’s right, Irish. I said get on out of here and don’t you be coming
back! Or the next time I’ll send for the constable and throw your ass in jail,
and have you deported back to Ireland, where you belong!”
With victory in his eyes, Tad again picked up his chair and after
brushing his blonde blood-soaked hair across his head, yelled at his
attacker, “You heard the man. Get on out of here ya damned lying bastard!”
From the look on Gilbert’s face, it was obvious he was outraged.
Glaring at the rest of the men around the table who had been playing cards,
he yelled, “Tell ’em! Tell ’em what ya saw, damn it!”
None of the men would come to his aid and glanced away from his
accusing eyes. “What in the hell is the matter with you dumb bastards? His
lordship steals your money right from under your noses and you protect
him.” Disgusted, he waved his arm at them. “Ah the hell with ya.”
Turning his attention back toward Tad, Gilbert glared at him with
contempt, grabbing his money, and spouted, “Watch your back ‘yer
lordship’, cause I’ll be getting yer ass! You can count on that, and the rest
of you lying bastards too!” Then he stormed out of the pub indignantly.
Daniel, glancing at Tad, announced to the rest of the onlookers, “That
dirty stinking liar has tried to dishonor my good friend’s reputation here. A
round for the house, on me!”
Dramatically patting Tad on the shoulder he added, “I tell ya all,
Honeycutt is a man of honor! It was that low belly O’Flaherty. I saw the
whole thing. Isn’t that right?” he yelled, looking at George Hornsby and
Harry Pike to back him up. Readily, the other poker buddies agreed, but
they knew differently, seeing Tad deal from the bottom of the deck as well.

Onlookers who might see the exchange of well wishes between James
Sterling and the Myles’ outside the mansion of their mutual friends, the
Honeycutt’s, would think they were old friends, rather than estranged
adversaries with a sordid past. No longer able to witness the shameless way
her husband was trying to wiggle his way into the Myles’ good graces
merely to be closer to Felicity, the scorned woman turned her head in
disgust.
You will pay for this, you miserable bastard. If it is the last thing I
ever do!

Trying desperately to figure out a solution to her current predicament,
Lavinia called upon the dead spirit of her father, Randolph Bailey-Smythe.
Father, this is all your fault! If you hadn’t left all your holdings to that
pathetic daughter of yours, I would have some leverage against that
worthless husband of mine rather than be forced to kowtow to his every
whim. Help me father please,
she pleaded.
Haven’t I suffered enough with
the humiliation of losing everything I value? Do you want to see me locked
away in an asylum too? If James and that old coot Alfred have their way,
that is precisely what will become of me, while your precious Annabelle
and her traitorous fiancé Rupert live in luxury off your holdings and
protecting his vast fortune no doubt!

On the verge of tears from frustration and the sheer irony of how life
had changed since her father’s death, Lavinia gave in to the images of the
past that flashed before her now. A single tear ran down her cheek as she
recalled her beloved Ashwillow, the family home her father had
bequeathed to her only sister, Annabelle, and the life she had once known
in England. Her memories were halted when the image of Annabelle living
in the lap of luxury with Rupert at her side, crept into her tormented mind.

In desperation, she again pleaded to her deceased father.
How could
you do this to me, father? Annabelle has everything, while I am forced to
live here in this godforsaken country with these inept simpletons who think
they are of quality breeding.

Living in the colonies these past three years, it had become painfully
clear to Lavinia that the prestigious life she had once led as the daughter of
the Squire Randolph Bailey-Smythe meant little to those in New York
society. All they seemed to care about was who had money and power.
James, who had invested wisely in the meat-canning venture, was now
looked upon as quite influential in New York.