Doves Migration (29 page)

Instead, Miranda saw him for what he was, a man with no character.
Realizing his lack of integrity caused him to do the things he had done, and
the thought of him hovering over her fiendishly while she slept crept inside
her mind.
Is there no end to his treachery and deceit?
Then panic filled her
heart as she wondered,
Dear God, how can I continue this charade, when
he makes my skin crawl?
Shaking her head in disgust, she recalled Gilbert confessing his part in
swindling Tad rather than lie to her.
The differences between these two men
far outstretch any class boundaries,
she surmised
. Gilbert may not be as
polished or educated as Tad, that much was true. However, what he was
lacking in social skills far surpassed Tad in character and integrity. Thank
heavens, I found out the truth before it was too late.
Recalling their passionate embrace several weeks earlier in the garden,
she quivered in disgust.
How could I have ever felt close to a man with so
few scruples?
Deep in her thoughts, Miranda had not realized the carriage had turned
into the Honeycutt’s drive until she spotted Tad waiting outside his
grandparents’ home As she returned his nod, she planted a smile to her lips
for his benefit, while thinking,
Only
a
fortnight to go . . . You can do this.
Smile Miranda.
“Ah, Miranda dear. I was worried about you,” Tad called as the cab
paused beside him.
“Worried? Why ever for?” Miranda said calmly, accepting his hand as
she stepped out of the cab. “You knew I was at the orphanage.”
“You are later than usual.”
“Am I?” she asked, avoiding eye contact with him, knowing that he
came to meet her only to have a few private moments alone together.
Nodding to Montgomery, the servant obediently pulled away and Miranda
calmly began walking toward the Honeycutt mansion, determined not to be
alone with Tad more than necessary.
“Oh dear, I suppose you’re right,” she said casually, glancing down at
her lapel watch. “Felicity was telling me the news of her cousin Rupert and
his newlywed bride, Annabelle coming for a visit. I suppose I forgot the
time.” Glancing at him, she appeared to be excited, by adding. “It appears
they will be returning with Joshua and Elise. Isn’t that grand news? You do
know that Annabelle is Lavinia’s sister don’t you?”
“Yes. Of course. Must we speak of them now? It occurred to me that
we’ve not taken a walk in the gardens for quite some time.”
“Oh Tad, that does sound lovely. However, considering the lateness of
the hour and all, I really need to freshen up before dinner. You don’t mind
do you? Perhaps another time would be better.” Again, she forced a smile
to her lips and hoped that her eyes did not betray her.
Gently grasping hold of her elbows, Tad drew her closer to him and
huskily whispered, “Are you certain that’s the only reason why you are
declining my invitation? Lately, I have the distinct impression that you are
deliberately trying to avoid me.”
Feeling his breath on her neck, the blood drained from her face and she
trembled slightly, fearful he had somehow become wise to her deceptions
or worse that he was going to kiss her.
“Don’t be silly,” she whispered, giddily. “Why, I see you nearly every
night.”
Not releasing her from his grasp, Tad looked deep into her eyes.
“Miranda, for weeks after I moved in with father and Sarah, you asked me
repeatedly if there was something wrong. Now I am asking you the same.
Have you grown tired of my advances and no longer wish for me to court
you?”
Tempted to end this farce here and now, but deciding the risk would be
too great, she shyly said with the most sincere look she could manage,
“Perhaps I have been a little distant of late. I won’t deny it troubled me
greatly that you had withdrawn from me there for a while, despite you
saying otherwise. Nevertheless, I can assure you Tad, my feelings for you
are just as strong as before.”
Satisfied she had not lied entirely--after all she did dislike him just as
she had before he had been courting her--she pasted a smile to her lips as
she had seen Elise use countless times before. Then subtlety, she gazed into
his eyes to gauge if he detected her insincerity. Judging by the relief she
saw looking back at her, Miranda knew she was successful in not arousing
his suspicion.
“You know how your grandmother detests lateness, and from the
sounds I hear from inside, everyone has already gathered.”
Kissing her forehead, he said, “The Sterling’s aren’t here yet, so she
won’t even notice if you’re running slightly behind. But go ahead, we can
talk later.”
Entering the mansion, she continued smiling all the while desperately
wanting to wash off the grime of a hard day at the orphanage and Tad’s kiss
from her forehead. Much to Miranda’s delight, the evening activities were
halted to discuss the arrival of Lavinia’s sister, Annabelle, and Rupert
Robbins. It was agreed upon right up front that Rupert would feel more at
ease with the Honeycutt’s, rather than having to choose between staying
with his cousin Felicity or his wife’s sister.
Clearly excited at the thought of someone so prominent visiting their
home, Vivian suggested the welcoming home party already underway
should now be a welcome party for both couples. This way, the finest of
New York society would have the opportunity to meet ‘the war hero’ who
married her granddaughter as well as the elite of society from Europe.
Immediately she began planning to extend her guest list.
While suggestions on who should be included were offered, Miranda
impatiently glanced at the clock periodically certain that it must be running
slow. Trying to figure a way of checking if the time was correct, her
thoughts were interrupted when she heard, “Oh Miranda dear . . .”
Immediately Miranda’s back stiffened, knowing by now whenever she
was addressed in such a manner, Vivian expected something in return.
“Yes. Mrs. Honeycutt?” she replied politely.
“It suddenly occurred to me that our dear Felicity probably hasn’t been
out from under those ghastly urchin’s feet since Benjamin has been in
Washington. Tomorrow, you must see to it that she joins us for dinner. Can
I count on you to see to that, my dear?”
Hearing Vivian’s comment, Lavinia taking a sip of her wine, started to
cough and looked at her friend in shock. An exchange of glances passed
between the two women and Lavinia immediately chimed in.
“Yes. How long has it been since
dear
Felicity has been without her
Benjamin? When does he intend to return, for goodness sake? Surely
Rupert would find it most unsettling to find out his dear cousin has been
left alone for so long.” Snidely she looked at James and smiled coyly. “Do
you know James, darling?”
Raising her hand frantically before her, as if uninterested in James’
reply, Vivian looked at her husband frantically. “Alfred, I insist you send
for Benjamin and Lucas at once. Why I simply can not allow our dear
Felicity to be alone tending to all those children while the two of those men
try to change the minds of stubborn bureaucrats. Surely, with all your
influence, you could see to it that Benjamin gets the support he needs to
run that orphanage properly. Why, when I think of the sacrifices both
Benjamin and Felicity have unselfishly made for those children, I’m
ashamed that we haven’t done more to help ourselves.”
Nodding his head, Alfred puffed on his pipe slowly while grinning
snidely at his wife. “Mother, why I had no idea you had such an interest in
the orphans, or for that matter Reverend Myles and Felicity. However,
since you have brought it to my attention, consider the matter closed. I will
take care of the situation straight away.”
“Thank you, Alfred.” Turning her attention back to Miranda, she said,
“Well Miranda dear, will you see to it that our dear Felicity dines with us
tomorrow evening then?”
Never in all the years that she had lived with the Honeycutt’s had she
ever heard Vivian refer to Felicity with such endearment, or the orphans for
that matter, and Miranda knew precisely why the sudden change of heart.
With Rupert Robbins, being first cousin of Felicity, it would not set well
with him to know how his cousin had been treated in the past by his
hostess. Trying not to show her disgust at Vivian being such a hypocrite,
Miranda nodded politely.
“I can’t promise Mrs. Honeycutt, but I will certainly try.”
Pouting, Vivian nervously tapped her index finger against her lip as if
trying to think. Then as if having an idea, she smiled at Miranda. “Come to
think of it dear, there is no need for you to say a thing. I’ll make a point to
drop by in the morning and invite her myself. Why, I will even offer to help
with those poor children for a spell. Surely, there must be something I
could do that would be beneficial for their upbringing.” As if answering her
own question, she quickly added. “Ah, of course. I will read to them. What
do you think of that, dear?”
No longer masking his amusement by his wife’s sudden interest in
Felicity Robbins-Phelps Myles, Alfred coughed and looked at Michael then
at Sarah, who both tried to refrain from smiling. Shaking his head he said,
“As generous as this offer of yours is my dear, perhaps you might want to
reconsider. Have you forgotten how children bring on your migraines? I
would hate to see you over do it and be laid up for a week.”
Red-faced, Vivian glared at her husband. “What an unkind thing for
you to say Alfred. Why I love children and you know it.” Looking up at her
son for support and seeing he had nothing to say, she huffed, “Well I do!”
“Yes, yes of course you do, my dear. However, perhaps it would be
best for Miranda to extend your invitation to Felicity after all. Considering
all the arrangements that still need your attention, I’m certain that would be
best. A fortnight isn’t that long and I’m sure your time could be spent
making certain our guest’s stay will be acceptable.”
“Mother Honeycutt, if you would like, perhaps the two of us could go
shopping for new bed-linens tomorrow. That is, if you’re free.” Sarah
offered.
Amused at what lengths Vivian would take to make a good impression,
and seeing how Sarah was trying to get her attention, Miranda quickly
joined in on the conversation of the welcoming-home party. “What was it
again Mrs. Honeycutt, you were planning to serve?”
As Vivian prated on about the festivities, Miranda continued to ask her
questions to avoid the tradition of Tad reading to her in Vivian’s boudoir.
Just as she had hoped, as the clock chimed nine, Michael looked at Sarah
and Tad.
“Well, it’s getting that time. Shall we?” Turning his attention to his
father who had stood to send his son off, Michael said, “Dinner was
exceptionally interesting tonight. Thank you.”

An hour later, waiting until she was certain Vivian and Alfred had
retired for the evening, Miranda crept through the darkened halls and down
to the basement of the Honeycutt mansion. Within minutes of joining
Gilbert, she found herself engaged in a heated discussion with him for he
managed to upset her again.

“Ah . . . so his lordship didn’t get to read to you this evening did he?
Tsk tsk, such a pity!” He smirked. “Fret not though, my dear. There’s
always tomorrow.” Acknowledging her scowl, he added sarcastically. “Oh
that's right,
my dear
is reserved for his lordship, isn’t it, Mandy?” His eyes
twinkled at seeing her reaction.

Exasperated, she threw up her hands in despair. “I don’t know why I
bother to put myself through this. Why does every conversation end up
speaking of Tad or you doubting my loyalties? Just you being here should
be proof enough. Yet you still question my every encounter with him.
Why? Haven’t I told you every word that was spoken between us to gain
your trust? What must I do to stop your nasty comments to me, which you
know will only upset me?”

Sheepishly Gilbert looked at her. “Its not you I don’t trust. It’s his
lordship. And for good reason.” Dramatically he raised his arms and
spanned the room before turning his attention back to her. “Might I remind
you I’m locked up like some peasant in his lordship’s dungeon while he
runs fancy free to do as he pleases and read poetry to the fair maiden.”

“Please Gilbert, enough. You know I only have a few minutes to spend
with you. Why must it be spent arguing?”
“Arguing, you say? Why this isn’t arguing, lass. I was merely trying to
find out how your day was. Can I help it that I find it irritating that you
spent so much time with him, after you claim he means nothing to you?”
Inhaling a deep breath to steady her frayed nerves, she continued in a
strained whisper. “Well, to my way of thinking, this is indeed arguing. And
don’t you dare insinuate I have romantic feelings for Tad. You know I can’t
tolerate him even speaking to me because of you. What perplexes me is
why I continue to allow myself to be put through this day after day when
it’s obvious that my kindness has not been appreciated, nor that you will
ever believe me.”
Yearning for a sign of encouragement, or words of endearment to
justify her decision to run away with him, it suddenly occurred to her that
perhaps she had misjudged his awkwardness around her.
What if he didn’t
show her affection simply because he wasn’t interested, rather than not
believing he was worthy as she had convinced herself?
Such a depressing
thought caused her eyes to well up with tears.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, if there ever was a woman who could weep
at a drop of a hat it would be you, Miranda. Why would you be crying now,
lass?”
Shaking her head, she turned and cupped her head in her trembling
hands, managing to mumble, “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Aye . . . So I’m not as bright as his lordship, am I? Would he be able
to understand?”
Angered by such a comment, she turned on her heels and glared at him.
“Why you pig-headed fool! Has it ever occurred to you that I was crying
because in two weeks you’ll be leaving and it troubles me?”
A smile crossed his lips, as he came closer to her. “My, but aren’t we
the feisty one tonight. Much like that first day we met at the orphanage and
I angered you. Remember when you were singing that little ditty with the
wee ones?”
Hearing him recall that day, her frown faded and she silently prayed he
would at last express the love she hoped he felt for her. “I’m surprised you
even recall that day.”
“Why is that? I may have been run down, but me head works just
fine.”
“You’re impossible!” She spat in an exaggerated whisper. “I was
merely pointing out I was surprised you recall the day we met, considering
the fact that you remind me practically every day that knowing me has
been a curse.”
“Now Mandy, that’s not exactly what I said . . .” His eyes dancing
merrily as he looked at her, chuckling.
“And that’s another thing. Why must you insist on calling me Mandy?”
Her tone raised more than she intended.
Smirking and stepping closer to her he asked, “Would you prefer me to
call you, my dear, like his lordship does?”
Glaring at him, recalling how Tad had called her that in front of him,
she stomped her foot and planted her clenched fists on her hips. Ready to
retaliate, Gilbert stepped forward and gently placed his hand over her
mouth. “Shh, I hear something,” he whispered urgently.
Listening intently, she heard a strange sound and her heart raced in her
chest. Fear showed in her eyes as she and stared up at him while clenching
his arms. Lowering his hand from her lips, his hand rested on her cheek as
they clung to one another straining to hear where the sound originated. As
the minutes passed, which seemed like hours, Miranda held her breath
frightened for Gilbert’s safety but she enjoyed his nearness, the feel his
breath on her face. Still gazing deep into one another’s eyes Gilbert
tenderly began to caress her cheek and slowly trace the edge of her jaw to
her chin and finally back to her lips. Feeling his touch, her breathing
became unsteady, more like short gasps as her heart raced.
Whispering softly he said, “I call you Mandy, because it suits you
when you get all riled up.”
Smiling affectionately at him, she whispered, “In that case, I approve.
Despite your enjoyment of upsetting me so.”
“That I do indeed. You have a real fire in you . . . I pity the poor fool
who ever crosses you,” he said.
“Then keep that in mind the next time you deliberately try to
antagonize me.”
“Lass, I’m just havin’ a wee bit of fun is all. Just teasing mostly...”
Pausing to look at her hand still clinging to his shoulders, he gazed back at
her with a hunger she had never seen in his eyes before.
Feeling his breathing intensify she boldly asked, “And now, Gilbert . . .
Are you just having fun by teasing me?”
Wrapping his arm around her waist, he brought her closer to him as his
lips came crushing down on hers. Eagerly she wrapped her arms around his
neck and passionately returned his kiss when suddenly he pushed her from
him and coarsely whispered, “This is wrong! You had better be going up to
your room, where you belong.”
Feeling ashamed and fearful he found her actions vulgar she said,
“Why is it wrong Gilbert? I don’t understand.”
“Are you daft? Isn’t it enough that I’ve sunk so low I’ve hidden behind
a woman skirts to save my own skin like some coward? Do you think I
want your pity too?”
Unable to believe he thought himself to be a coward, or that she had
kissed him out of pity she whispered, “Look into my eyes, Gilbert. Surely
you can see what I feel for you is anything but pity.”
“Just leave me be, Miranda. I’m not one of those orphans you tend to. I
don’t need or want your charity.”
“How insulting! Any man who can’t distinguish an act of endearment
to that of pity or charity is either daft or just pig-headed. In your case, I
would hazard to guess that possibly both applies.”
Judging by the smirk on his face, Miranda knew Gilbert was not
insulted by her comment, but amused by her flared temper. “Aye, so now
I’m daft along with pig-headed. Well you might be right lass, but the fact
remains that you and I are not suited for one another. So again I ask you,
please Miranda, leave me be.”
“No! Not until you explain why you push me away either by nasty
insults or as you just have done.”
“Trust me, you don’t want to get mixed up with a bloke like me. What
kind of future can I offer someone like you? In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a
wanted man accused of murder. And if that weren’t bad enough, I’m hated
for being an Irishmen . . . Hell, I can barely write me own name, let alone
read poetry or fancy literature to you. All I know how to do is work, and
like I said before, your kind has never earned a fair living with his hands in
all your life.”
There was no mistaking the pain in his eyes as he spoke to her, yet she
refused to allow him to say such unkind words.
“I told you before Gilbert, these hands have worked the fields to
survive. So don’t you dare say such hateful things to me.” Angered that he
would deny each of them what their hearts desired out of pride, she added
sarcastically. “How generous of you to make this decision for the both of
us without even consulting me. Do you have such a low opinion of me that
you would even think I give two hoots if you are Irish or if you can read or
write?” Then softening her tone, she hastily whispered, “What matters to
me is your character. I look at you and see a man who never wavered from
his convictions or integrity, despite the injustices you’ve endured.”
“Aye, integrity you say. That’s why I hide in some dank basement
holding my breath every time I hear a strange sound.”
“What choice do you have? Go to the authorities? Tell the truth and be
hung because your accuser is more powerful than you are? There is no
shame or dishonor in what you are doing Gilbert. What matters is that
within a fortnight you will have a new start. A real chance to build a life for
yourself. Don’t you see that?”
Nodding, he said, “What you say may be true, but that still changes
nothing between us. Not until I can offer you a life that’s deserving, will I
ever let what just happened take place again.”
Realizing that nothing she could say would change his mind--being as
stubborn as he was--she shook her head discouragingly. “Considering the
lateness of the hour, I’ll say good night. However, before I go, please keep
one thing in mind. If what I desired was a man of means, then why am I
down here this evening in your arms rather then in Tad’s?”
Turning on her heels not waiting for a response, she quietly crept up
the stairs. As she approached Alfred’s study she paused when she saw a
light glowing from inside. Craning her neck around the door, she was
surprised to see Alfred sitting in a chair looking directly at her.
“Ah Miranda dear, having trouble sleeping?” he asked, rising from his
chair while gesturing her to come inside.
Hesitating for only a moment she nervously said, “Why Mr. Honeycutt,
you startled me. I thought I was the only one who couldn’t sleep this
evening.”
“Yes, well I had a few things on my mind. Please shut the door and
come sit with me for a spell.”
Obediently, she did as he asked and once seated, Miranda looked at
him and saw that he was flushed. Concerned, she said, “Mr. Honeycutt, are
you sure you are all right?”
“Perfectly, my dear. Just a wee tired is all.”
Never hearing him use that term, as the Irish did, she glanced at him
suspiciously. Her eyes widened as she detected a glimmer of amusement in
his eyes, yet somehow Miranda managed to keep her voice calm while
speaking again. “As you should be, working as hard as you do. Shall I get
you some warm milk form the kitchen? I find it most soothing.”
“No, my dear. That will not be necessary. However, do not let me stop
you from getting some for yourself. Assuming that is where you were
headed.”
Not hesitating in replying, she hastily said, “Actually, I’ve been in the
basement, working on my special project.”
“Ah, yes. Your special project. Perhaps it would be better if you moved
your project to a vacant guestroom where you would be more comfortable.
Surely, the lighting down there is poor. Why, as I recall the last time I
ventured down there it reminded me of a dank dungeon.”
Realizing Gilbert had said something similar only minutes earlier, her
heart raced.
Two comments in less than a minute was no coincident, was it
possible he knew?
she wondered while avoiding his eyes.
“Oh I don’t mind. It serves it purpose quite well. Thank you for your
kind offer though.” Then pretending to yawn and covering her mouth,
Miranda offered an apology as she stood up. “Excuse me, I must be more
tired than I had thought.” Smiling in his direction, she headed to the door
careful to avoid eye contact with Alfred again.
“Yes of course, Mandy.”
Hearing his response, Miranda stopped abruptly. With cheeks blazing
and her heart racing, Miranda slowly turned back to face the man who had
obviously overheard Gilbert and her. With fear gripping at her heart she
asked, “How long have you known?”
“From the day he arrived of course,” Alfred replied boldly.
“I see,” she whispered, unable to look him in the eyes. Miranda closed
her eyes to think of what she could possibly say to excuse her actions,
feeling immense shame and fear at the same time.
“Mr. Honeycutt, I’m at a loss for words . . . I never meant to deceive
you. Please don’t notify the authorities.”
“Miranda if that was my intention, I assure you, my dear that would
have already been done. Why don’t you take a seat and we can discuss why
you feel the need to leave with this man you barely know, but obviously
care deeply for.”
“How do you know . . .” In shock, unable to think clearly, her voice
trailed off. Suddenly sick to her stomach and feeling as if the room was
spinning around her, through a haze, she saw Alfred stand to take her arm.
“Come over here and sit down Miranda, you’re overwrought and
exhausted.”
Glancing at him as he assisted her and seeing the look of concern on
his face, tears welled up in her eyes. “Oh Mr. Honeycutt, I’m so sorry. I
never would have dishonored your trust and hospitality if it hadn’t been a
matter of life or death. You must believe me,” she sobbed hysterically.
“Dear, you have not dishonored me. If anything, I owe you a debt of
gratitude for saving my grandson from having the blood of another on his
hands. If you and Mrs. Myles hadn’t reacted so swiftly the night my
grandson and his so called confidant ran that man over, I shutter to think
what would have resulted from such a heinous act. Not only have you two
women saved the life of an innocent man, but in doing so, I have come to
know who the true perpetrator of David Sullivan’s murder was. And
although Tad is not blameless in his actions, at least he has done nothing
that cannot be rectified, with the exception of losing you that is. Which was
why I felt the need to discuss Mr. O’Flaherty with you tonight.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Miranda said sheepishly through her tears.
“Who told you . . . I mean, how did you know?”
“Does that really matter, dear? What matters is that I have taken extra
precaution to assure that Mr. O’Flaherty remains safe. Mind you dear, I did
not say Tad. What he has done is inexcusable, but he is my grandson. After
Mr. O’Flaherty has left safely for San Francisco, and has an opportunity to
begin a new life with no fear of retaliation from Tad, I will see to it that his
name is cleared of any wrong doing.”
“Not that I doubt you, Mr. Honeycutt. But why are you doing this? And
how can that be done, without exposing Tad’s part in this?”
Smiling at her, he said, “In answer to your first question, do you think
you are the only one who possesses scruples and morals Miranda?
Throughout my life, I have tried to live by a code of ethics, which I
believed were fair and just. In doing so, never once have I set out to
physically destroy another man. It shames me that a member of my own
family had such a lack of regard for human life that he was compelled to
silence a man at any cost. As the patriarch of this family, it is my duty . . .
No! It is more than that dear. I truly believe it is the least I can do for Mr.
O’Flaherty who has suffered so great at the hands of a Honeycutt. As far as
your second question--my dear Miranda--need I remind you that I am a
man of means? Money does have a way of remedying even the most
delicate situations. It won’t be the first time that new information has
become available to our noble police force that clears a man of suspicion.
So fear not, by the time Mr. O’Flaherty reaches San Francisco, he will be
exonerated. Then both he and Tad can put the past behind them and rebuild
a new life for themselves.”