Doves Migration (30 page)

From an early age, Miranda had witnessed her father manipulating
people and situations to get what he desired, and now hearing Alfred justify
bribing officials merely to protect his good name and standing in society
sickened her. His motivation to help Gilbert wasn’t merely to undo the
injustices brought down on him, no matter how he tried to sugar coat it to
her now. She knew his gestures were ultimately to protect Tad and his
loathsome friend from disgrace and shame, and that outraged her.
With Gilbert out of the way across the nation, both men would be free
to enjoy life as they pleased while the death of David O’Sullivan would go
unpunished. For the first time since she had known Alfred, she viewed him
no better than she viewed her father who also proclaimed himself an ethical
man.
Hastily she wiped her tears and said, “Excuse me for asking, sir. By
your own admission, aren’t you also abusing your wealth and position?
Please don’t misunderstand. I am extremely grateful for your offer to help
Gilbert. More than you can know. But by doing what you are proposing,
aren’t you using whatever is at your disposal to get what you want?”
“Before you pass judgment on me Miranda, might I point out that
Gilbert O’Flaherty was not a guest in my home at my request. Rather you
brought him here without my consent. So in doing that, you too have used
whatever was at your disposal to get what you wanted.”
The truth in his words shook her very foundation and she knelt by his
feet. “Oh Mr. Honeycutt, I’m so sorry...I don’t know what’s come over
me . . . I’m so confused . . .” Her words broke between sobs.
Leaning forward, he patted her head. As she continued to cry, he
whispered softly to the distraught young woman before him. “Get it all out
Miranda. Let it go.” Taking comfort from his words, she rested her head on
his knee while he tenderly stroked her head.
“From the day you entered my life, I have thought of you as a member
of our family. I’ve watched in admiration how you handled the most
adverse situations, while maintaining dignity and self-respect. However,
my dear, what has always puzzled me over the years is why someone with
such breeding as yours has grown to distrust those of prestige and shy
away from your inheritable social standings.”
Sheepishly, she glanced up at him and whispered, “What you call as
my inheritable social standing has come with a price that I’m not willing to
pay. My mother, God rest her soul, paid the ultimate price for such prestige
and that was her life.”
Frowning by such a comment, Alfred said, “I was under the impression
your mother’s death was from ingesting poisonous mushrooms.”
“Oh, that may be what stopped her heart from pumping, but what
killed her soul was what society accepted from men of power and means.
Polite society closing their eyes to despicable acts too shameful to discuss
aloud.”
“Now it is I who am speechless. Clearly, you have been hurt deeply.
Perhaps talking about it could help ease the burden you carry in your heart.
That is, if you trust me enough to open up to me now.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at him in earnest. “Oh Mr.
Honeycutt, I do trust you, honestly I do . . . its just I’m so ashamed . . .”
Speaking softly, he interrupted her. “Miranda dear, you of all people
know the great shame I bare in my heart having my grandson commit such
heinous acts. Surely I am in no position to judge another.”
Nodding, understanding for the first time how painful this had been for
him, knowing what Tad had done, she relived the painful childhood
memories that haunted her. As she spoke of Lucas’ infidelities and of her
mother’s drinking to mask her pain, Miranda was grateful that Alfred
showed no reaction of shock or disgust while listening intently to her every
word. When she had recalled the accidental shooting of her half-brother
Joseph, he stopped her and asked, “Our Elise shot him?”
Realizing by his comment that Alfred had truly adopted all of them in
his heart as members of his family--just as he had said earlier--she smiled
fondly at him and nodded.
“So now perhaps you can understand why position and power hold
little meaning to me. Was it able to save my mother from living a
nightmarish existence at the hands of my father’s betrayal?”
Softly he replied, “It did not indeed. In truth, I have often wondered
what it was that kept you aloof, and now hearing your reasons, I must say
you surprise me.”
“Surprise? Why is that?”
“From the first day we met I came to realize you were the quintessence
of a true belle of the south--shy, well versed in proper social refinement.
Yet never had I surmised that beneath your beauty and charm lay the inner
strength and determination of a lioness. What you have been able to
accomplish with the Underground Railroad, along with aiding Mr.
O’Flaherty is astonishing.”
“Now it is you who has surprised me. Considering on both accounts I
have managed to betray the trust of two men who meant the most to me by
being dishonest and conniving. Two very unflattering characteristics for a
woman to possess, and for both I am ashamed.”
“Nonsense! I won’t stand for hearing such rubbish,” Alfred said
indignantly. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. You reacted from sheer
instinct on both accounts for the betterment of others, which shows great
integrity and conviction. As I recall, didn’t you try only moments ago to
convince a rather stubborn man the importance of such fine attributes?”
Blushing again, realizing he had heard nearly their entire conversation
she asked, “How do you know that? Was it you we heard?”
Pointing to a screened vent next to the fireplace Alfred said, “What you
heard was an old man trying to eavesdrop, and stumbling against the poker.
That vent leads directly to the basement.”
“I’m so embarrassed,” she mumbled, looking down at the floor to
avoid eye contact with him.
“No more than I. Please forgive me for invading on your privacy.
However, I had to know if you were indeed serious in going to San
Francisco with Mr. O’Flaherty.”
“Yes, I am. Even though I’m certain he will try to prevent it.”
Nodding, he said, “Yes I should imagine he will. Are you certain that
this is what you want?”
Sheepishly, she nodded. “I love him and I know he feels the same. It’s
just his foolish pride that stands in our way.”
“Ah yes. Pig-headed I think you called him.”
“Oh dear, you really did hear everything didn’t you?”
“Not everything, that’s why I had to get closer to the vent and clumsily
knocked into the poker.”
“Judging from the look on your face, I take it you don’t approve?”
Miranda asked, meekly.
“Before I respond, will you indulge an old man to pry into your affairs
and ask a few questions?”
“You’re not an old man and you certainly have every right to pry.
However, I must warn you, nothing you can say will change my mind,” she
replied stubbornly.
Raising his hand, he smiled wearily. “I wouldn’t dream of trying. I was
just wondering what you intend to do once you arrive in San Francisco?
Presuming Mr. O’Flaherty permits you to come with him, that is. And then,
there is the matter of Lucas. Have you given any thought to how this will
affect him?”
Somberly she looked up at him, and took a deep breath. “Mr.
Honeycutt, I’ve thought of little else. Father will be devastated. What I’m
relying on is that he risked everything he held dear for such desires, having
them once himself, and in time he will come to understand I had to do the
same. I intend to write him a letter and have it posted the day I leave,
explaining my love and longing to be with Gilbert. As for Gilbert . . . Well
in truth, this may prove to be more difficult than Father accepting my
decision. He can be so prideful and stubborn, as you’ve heard.” Not
waiting for a response, she added hastily. “What I intend to do is point out
that the officials are looking for a man, not a husband and wife.”
“Ah I see. So you intend to pose as his spouse.”
“Yes. I’ve booked passage for two under the name of Mr. and Mrs.
Joseph Hourigan.”
Rubbing his brow, looking at her with genuine concern he said,
“Traveling across country will be difficult enough. How do you intend to
mange keeping others from suspecting that you are not truly man and wife
if Mr. O’Flaherty does not agree to this arrangement?”
“Not every detail has been worked out, but I can assure you Gilbert is
no fool. Surely, he will see that he has no other choice, or risk being caught
and brought up on charges.”
Shaking his head, Alfred said, “My dear, do you really believe
deceiving him in such a manner is wise? No man, especially one as your
Mr. O’Flaherty, will welcome being manipulated in such a manner. You
hardly know this man. What if he gets to San Francisco and leaves you?
Then what? Your reputation will be ruined, not to mention the fact you will
be in a strange place with no one there to protect you.”
Looking at him with pleading eyes, she said, “You heard him. He does
not believe he is good enough for me. What other choice do I have but to
force him to take me along? By the time we reach San Francisco, I should
be able to persuade him this was the best for both of us. Once he knows
how much I love him, surely he will forgive my deceit.”
“There must be a better way.” Seeing Miranda ready to argue with him,
he raised his hand as if to silence any of her arguments. “Dearest, before
you begin arguing with me, please indulge an old man an opportunity to
help. Surely, between the two of us, we should be able to work out a more
suitable plan. I owe this much to you and your father, not to mention Mr.
O’Flaherty.”
“Then should I assume you approve?”
“No. I did not say that, my dear. However, I do understand the love you
feel for this man. All I hope and pray is that he is worthy of such love.”
For the better part of an hour, Miranda, sitting in the chair next to
Alfred, listened as he discussed other possibilities for the trip west. While
she still feared Gilbert’s safety was in jeopardy, she took solace in trusting
his and her fate in this man she loved as a father.

Exhausted from the evening’s events, Miranda, with a heavy heart,
slowly tiptoed up the stairs to the second floor of the Honeycutt mansion.
Although she was grateful Alfred had offered to assist her traveling to San
Francisco, she knew he did not approve.
How could he? When I don’t
either! No woman should ever throw herself at a man as I’m intending to
do. It’s degrading
.
Have you no shame?
She chastised herself, pausing to
stare at the vacant room once occupied by Tad.

Without warning, memories flooded her mind of the tenderness she
and Tad had once shared. Unable to move from where she stood, stinging
tears welled up in her eyes as she recalled the deep pain Tad had caused her
by his deceit. Such betrayal Miranda knew she would never be able to
forgive.

As a tear streamed down her cheek, Miranda began to question her
motives to leave the life she had made for herself in New York to run off
with a man she barely knew. Was it possible she had deluded herself into
believing she was in love with Gilbert simply to avenge the deep- seeded
pain Tad had caused her? Stunned by such a revelation, she immediately
rushed up the remaining steps to the privacy of her own room.
Dear God,
am I capable of such treachery?
Cupping her head in her hands, leaning on
the wooden door of her bedchamber, she softly wept.

Hearing a cough from the other side of the room, she trembled.
“Miss Miranda, it’s me. Please don’t fret none.”
Squinting across the dimly-lit room, Miranda was able to make out the

silhouette of a man rising from a chair and she hastily wiped her tears. “Oh
Montgomery, you startled me!” she whispered. “With all that has gone on
this evening, I completely forgot we were too meet. How long have you
been waiting . . .” Her voice trailed off as she increased the flame of her
kerosene lamp. “Why it must have been hours. I’m so sorry . . .” She added
apologetically.

“No. Of course not,” she answered quickly, wondering why he would
think such a thing and then realizing he had seen her cry.
Miranda smiled warmly at him. “How kind of you to be concerned
about my well being Montgomery. But no need. It’s been a long day and
I’m a bit out of sorts, is all. Especially, since I’ve just found out Mr.
Honeycutt . . .” Miranda’s voice trailed off realizing it must have been
Montgomery who had informed Alfred that she had befriended Gilbert and
was harboring him. She quickly added. “How foolish of me to forget the
bond between a servant and his master, or in this case employee and
employer.”
The servant, clearly taken off guard, sheepishly glanced down to avoid
eye contact with her, not saying a word. Realizing his actions confirmed
her suspicions, she hastily added, reassuringly. “It’s alright Montgomery.
I’m not angry with you. It just would have been easier if I had known . . .”
Then finding her words amusing, she nervously chuckled. “Who am I
fooling? I never intended for Mr. Honeycutt to know, and if I had, I would
have told him myself.”
“Miss Miranda, I didn’t mean to deceive you . . . but, both Mr. James
and Mr. Alfred made me promise not to tell you.”
Shocked hearing James also was in on this, she whispered, “
Mr.
James
. . .”
Seeing the concerned look in the servant’s eyes, Miranda cleverly
changed her tone so as not to let on that he had mistakenly broken a
confidence.
“Mr. James and Mr. Honeycutt have had my best interest at heart all
along and I’m truly grateful for all of your help. Especially yours,
Montgomery. This must have been extremely difficult for you.”
“No trouble at all, miss. I sure am glad the cat’s out of the bag though.”
Not having heard that expression in some time, she smiled fondly at
Montgomery, reminiscing how Chester, her former slave, used to say the
same thing.
“Yes . . . Well it is getting late. Where is that passageway you were
speaking of earlier Montgomery?”
“Right here, miss,” he said eagerly, walking only a few steps to the
corner of the room next to her dry sink and wardrobe. Judging by the tone
of his voice and mannerisms, Miranda knew she had been successful in
concealing he had spoken out of turn.
Before she had time to figure out why James Sterling would benefit
from keeping the truth from her, Miranda’s attention was drawn to
Montgomery. There before her, she observed the servant lean over slightly
and with great ease slid what she had thought to be a wall behind the
wardrobe.
“Oh my! Why, I had no idea,” she gasped. Walking closer to the
opening in shock, she asked, “Now am I to understand you correctly.
Didn’t you say that every bedchamber is equipped with . . . with . . .” Not
knowing what exactly to call such a devise, she motioned to the opening.
“One of these things?”
Nodding his head, he smiled. “Yes, miss. Every bedchamber has a
dumbwaiter. Come step inside and see for yourself.”
Hesitantly, Miranda walked closer to the passageway and saw in the
center of a small area what looked to be a three-sided box made of metal
suspended in mid-air. The platform, sides, and back were connected to two
ropes on either side with a large pulley. Eager to demonstrate, Montgomery
gently tugged on one of the ropes.
“See, this is how you go down. And if you want to go up, all you do is
pull on this cord.’
Fascinated, and not believing she had no knowledge of it until now, she
looked about the small room and noticed to the right of the metal platform
what looked to be a narrow tunnel.
“Ah I see . . . and where does that go?” Miranda asked.
“Why that goes to Mr. Tad’s old room, and if you head the other way,
all the way down to the last chute, that takes you to Mrs. Honeycutt’s
room.”
Confused and intrigued at the same time, she glanced from where she
imagined the tunnel ran in her room and then back into the dark opening.
“But why can’t I see that tunnel from my room? There are windows
right there . . .” Her voice trailed off, looking back inside her room again.
Then as if answering her own question, she smiled, whispering to herself,
“The window seat! In all the rooms, a seat stretches across the wall to mask
the tunnel. How ingenious.”
“Mighty easy on the help too. Years past, before there were dinner
parties every night, the Missus and Mr. Alfred would have their meals
brought up to them. Rather than having to cart their trays up and down the
stairs, the maids used this here dumbwaiter instead. It goes directly into the
kitchen or can go to the cellar too.”
“Really? I wouldn’t imagine anyone could walk, let alone carry a tray
in such a small area.”
“Oh there’s plenty of room. Come closer and see for yourself.”
Pointing at the darkened alleyway, Miranda noticed that from where she
stood, no floor could be seen. Confused, she looked at Montgomery hoping
for an explanation.
“The floor of the passageway is down a few feet, right over Master
Alfred’s library and the dinning room.”
Closing her eyes, Miranda visualized the rooms below her and realized
that the ceilings of those two rooms had lowered panels along the outer
perimeters, which she had always thought was for decorative effects. Never
had she realized they were multi-functional. Directing her attention back to
the dumbwaiter, she asked, “Is this devise strong enough to hold the two of
us?”
“Nah.” Montgomery shook his head. “But if you like, I can pull on this
here rope and you can take a ride for yourself and I’ll come down right
quick.”
Nodding, Miranda stepped inside the iron chute, holding tightly to the
metal rails just below the large pulley and ropes.
“Now don’t be moving about none, and keep your head still, for there
ain’t no light down the hall so it’s going to get mighty dark,” Montgomery
warned. “The kitchen doorway stays open some so as you pass by you’ll
see a little light, but when you reach the basement you will have to step out
and open the door to the cellar yourself. Can you do that, Miss Miranda?”
She nodded, then asked, “Where will the door to the basement be
exactly?”
Listening carefully, Montgomery gave her directions, like that of a
parent to a child and she smiled, never seeing this side of him before.
“You can’t miss it. Just as soon as you step off the platform, feel to the
left and pull on the handle. The door will open right quick--it’s good and
oiled so as not to stick. Be sure to send the dumbwaiter back up and I’ll
meet you down there in a few minutes.” Looking about the room, he lifted
his finger as a gesture to wait for a second. Judging by the look on his face
Miranda assumed he found what he was searching for and left for a few
moments, returning with an unlit brass hurricane lamp.
“Here miss, you take this here candle and be real careful now.”
Miranda took the candleholder in hand while Montgomery searched inside
his pocket for matches. Once the light was lit and the glass dome securely
replaced in the holder, he looked anxiously at her. “You ready?”
Taking a deep breath, Miranda nodded and smiled nervously at
Montgomery as she watched him pull gently on rope to her right. With
every pull, the platform glided downward with ease. The further she
descended, the darker it became and she was grateful Montgomery had
thought to send her along with a light. Within a few moments she passed
the small opening which she assumed was the kitchen. Nervously she
looked at the candle’s reflection that flickered as an eerie glow against the
wooden tunnel leading to the basement. Being careful not to move as
Montgomery had warned, Miranda became anxious wondering how much
longer this would take. Luckily within moments the platform came to a halt
and holding the candle firmly in one hand, Miranda nervously stepped out
of the dumbwaiter onto the basement floor. Then spotting the handle
precisely where Montgomery had said it would be, she opened the door
with ease.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Miranda turned back and began pulling the
rope to send the platform back where it had originated. Just as before, the
dumbwaiter moved stealth-like with ease. Realizing that Montgomery was
now pulling on the rope from his end, Miranda stepped away from where
she stood and looked about the cellar. Rows of canned fruit and vegetables
lined wooden shelves, with bushel baskets of potatoes and carrots stacked
neatly against the other walls. Turning to face the other opening, she
realized the door was locked from the inside.
Cautiously walking forward, she unlatched the hook from its eyehole
and gently opened the door. Much to surprise, she heard voices, tiptoed out
of the cellar, and gasped at hearing Alfred’s voice.
“Be reasonable, Mr. O’Flaherty. Surely, a man of your keen perception
can see I mean you no harm. All I am proposing is a business deal. Nothing
more.”
“Suggesting I marry Miranda ain’t no business deal! Beggin’ yer
pardon, sir. But why are you so hell bent on getting’ rid of her, too? She
ain’t done you no harm. She was just trying to mend me broken bones is
all, which yer grandson and that no count friend of his caused, I might be
addin’.”
“You misunderstand me, Mr. O’Flaherty. I have no desire to see
Miranda leave this home. On the contrary, nothing would please me more
to see her and Tad one day wed, yet that seems highly unlikely under the
circumstances.”
Unable to believe what she was hearing, Miranda’s hands began to
tremble while she inched her way closer, anxious to hear Gilbert’s reply.
“And what circumstances would that be, sir?”
“Isn’t it obvious, Mr. O’Flaherty? Miranda took great risks, not only to
her own person by bringing you here, but to her position and reputation if
you were ever discovered. She could have easily hid you at her friend’s
home, where your sister lives. With the Carmidy’s abroad, and your sister
more than capable of tending to your wounds, I think you would agree this
would have been the most logical of solutions. That is, if all Miranda cared
about was your safety. No, I think Miranda’s unselfish actions speak
volumes. She clearly cares deeply for you, and if you want to admit it or
not, the facts speak for themselves. And judging by your present condition
and living conditions, I would also assume these feelings are reciprocated.
Otherwise, why else would you risk living under the very roof of the man
who accosted you?”
Hearing Alfred’s declaration, Miranda’s heartbeat quickened.
Dear
God this can’t be happening!
Clenching the handle of the lamp, she inched
closer, determined to hear Gilbert’s response.
“Look sir, beggin’ your pardon, but you know nothing of me. What
you’re suggesting is ridiculous. Hell, I don’t know the first thing about
packaging fruit, besides, a man just don’t go up to another and offer him a
job and then say, ‘oh and by the way, why don’t you marry this lass too’?
Even if I were so inclined--not saying I am, mind you--but for argument
sake let’s say I was. Who says Miranda would agree to such a marriage?”
Before Alfred had a chance to reply, his attention was directed to the
entrance where Miranda stood dumfounded. “Ah, Miranda dear,” Alfred
said, stretching his hand out for her to join them. “As you can see, I’ve
taken the liberty of introducing myself to our guest.”
Feeling the blood drain from her face, she slowly stepped closer, her
eyes never leaving Gilbert’s. “I didn't mean to eavesdrop . . . I just found
out this very evening about the dumbwaiter . . . er . . . When I heard voices,
I came to see where they were coming from.” Her words broken, she was
clearly shaken and unnerved at what she had overheard.
Taking Miranda’s hand as she approached, Alfred lovingly patted it and
tenderly said, “Yes well, our business was just about over.”
Turning his attention back to Gilbert, Alfred said sternly, “Mr.
O’Flaherty, I’m a man of business and don’t make it lightly when offering
a man employment. As I said before, with the proper training, I’m certain
you would be an asset to my food brokerage company outside of San
Francisco. It will be hard work, but a man like yourself doesn’t strike me as
the kind who runs from a challenge. Think on it some and I’ll get back with
you tomorrow for an answer. As for my other suggestion, well . . . Why
don’t you and Miranda sit for a spell? I’m sure you two have plenty to
discuss.”
Gilbert’s eyes trailed from Alfred to Miranda, and he blushed as their
eyes locked. Just then Montgomery walked out of the cellar and upon
seeing him, Alfred turned and smiled fondly at Miranda. “Well, if I had
known it was going to be so crowded down here this evening, I would have
had cook prepare us a snack.”
Turning his attention back to Gilbert, he raised his eyebrow.
“Tomorrow afternoon while Mrs. Honeycutt is away, perhaps you and I
could visit again.”
Nodding, Gilbert said, “Yes, sir.”
Then patting Miranda’s hand again, Alfred smiled warmly at her and
winked. “Well my dear, it’s late. Before long, cook will be up making us
breakfast, so do be cautious.”
“I will,” Miranda whispered.
Turning to leave, Alfred said, “Ah, one more thing. Do see to it that
you don’t use that dumbwaiter during the day. Cook will be wondering
why, and be inclined to investigate.” With that, he turned to Montgomery.
“Come, old friend, we’ve got a few things to discuss.”
Both Miranda and Gilbert speechlessly watched as Montgomery
assisted Albert up the wooden stairs leading to the main floor. Slowly
turning back to Gilbert, she looked sheepishly at him, praying he would say
something to break the tension between them.
“He’s quite a corker that one. Did you know he was coming here
tonight?”
“No. Of course not!” she replied indignantly. “Why, I just found out
only a while ago that he even knew you were here. Why do you ask?”
“Nothing, except when he saw you, he wasn’t surprised.”
“What are you implying Gilbert? That I sent him down here to ask . . .”
Unable to say the words, and angered by his innuendoes, Miranda glared at
him before continuing. “It just so happens that when I returned from seeing
you this evening, Alfred confronted me. In a most embarrassing manner, I
might add. Not that you would care.” She spat indignantly.