The Loyal Heart (17 page)

When they heard the last door click shut, Robert turned to the servants. “How bad was it?”

“Not as bad as it could have been,” Belle said.

“Do they come here often?”

“They used to come once a month,” Emerson replied. “But it's been almost six months since they stopped by. I suppose they were due to make an appearance.”

Winnie shook her head. “They're up to something. They must feel that they have something with that lawyer.”

Belle shivered dramatically. “I am not going to be able to work for those biddies.”

“You won't have to worry about them,” Cook said. “They're gonna fire us right away. They're not going to want anyone who was loyal to Mrs. Markham. Mrs. Miranda Markham, I mean.”

“I fear you are right,” Robert agreed. “However, try not to let their visit worry you too much. Something about their confidence didn't sit well with me. I'll look into it.”

“All I can say is that Mr. Phillip would be rolling over in his grave if he knew how his mother and sister were treating his wife. He treated her like gold, he did.”

“I wasn't aware that you had worked here when Phillip lived here.”

“I've been here for years. Mr. Phillip hired me when he first inherited the mansion. Emerson too. I was here when he brought home his bride, and thank goodness his mother and sister had already moved out.”

“Besotted, he was,” Emerson said.

Winnie shook her head. “They were in love. He doted on her.
And Miss Miranda? Well, she was a sweet little blushing thing. Remember, Audrey?”

Cook fanned her face. “Don't want to shock you, Mr. Truax, but Mr. and Mrs. Markham only had eyes—and hands—for each other. Practically spent their first week of married life in their room.”

Robert laughed. “It's going to take more than the amorous affections of a newly married couple to shock me, Winnie!” Sobering, he said, “Your description doesn't sound much like the lady I've met.”

“She was hard hit by him going off to war. He came back three times, but each time he returned, he looked more weary and thin. And, I am afraid, more distant. She worried about him fiercely. Then when word came about his imprisonment and then death . . . well, she changed.”

“And his family didn't support her?”

“No. The older Mrs. Markham had a different woman in mind for Phillip. When he ignored her wishes, she wasn't happy. Then when he was on leave, he didn't want to give them any time at all and they resented it,” Winnie said. “But they were still respectful to her.”

“But when the lawyer read the will, everything changed.”

“They became mean as snakes, they did,” Winnie said. “To our Mrs. Markham and to us.”

“I was afraid to be in the same room as them!” Belle said.

Robert didn't even try to hide his smile. “I can imagine why.”

“Do you truly think you can help our mistress with them?” Winnie asked.

“Yes,” he said after a pause. He almost said he would try his best. Then he realized that such a promise was not only going to mean little, it wasn't true. He'd come here to make Miranda Markham's life better and he was going to do that. If he couldn't
handle these women and their lawyer by himself, he would contact as many of his fellow comrades as it took. They'd made each other a promise to see their lives through and he intended to do just that.

No one had ever claimed their journeys would be easy. On the contrary, no one had imagined it would be. Monroe had practically guaranteed that the road to recovering their lives after the war would be anything but simple or quick.

But after the things they'd been through, Robert felt he probably wouldn't even trust something simple or quick. Experience had shown that trial and pain and patience and hard work were what guaranteed success.

That was what he understood and had faith in.

“Now, I had best see how Mrs. Markham is doing with her relatives. Winnie, if you would accompany me, please? If the women are staying, we'll need you to see to that.”

“Yes, sir,” Winnie said as she bustled to his side. “Though, if I may be so bold, I have to tell ya that I don't think they'll be staying.”

“You sound certain,” he commented as he opened the back door to the kitchen and ushered the portly housekeeper through.

“I am.” With a look of distaste, she added, “They come here to make her miserable, they do. If she's turned the tables on them, then their fun ain't going to be the same. They'll head back to their own home.”

Opening the door to the main house, something occurred to Robert. Before they entered the doorway, he said, “Winnie, it just occurred to me that I don't know where they live. Are they on the island?”

She shook her head. “No, they live just on the other side of the bay. They'll have to take the ferry across. But if they can't take it today, they'll stay somewhere else.”

“Such as?”

“One of the elder Mrs. Markham's friends. I believe she has at least one or two who haven't turned against her because of the rumors about her son.”

Now that they were in the back hallway in the main house, he lowered his voice. “Do you know these friends of hers? Do you know anything about them?”

“I know staff at a couple of their houses, but we don't speak much to each other. Not anymore.”

“Did they not have use for you after the rumors began or did you choose not to associate with them?”

“We chose not to associate with them, of course.”

Robert shook his head. “I'm sorry. I was a soldier for years. I have no knowledge of what it is like to be a gossiping woman, or to have a staff to do that.”

“It's like this, sir. Mr. Markham being thought of as a traitor is a terrible thing. But no one seems to know how such a rumor started. And Mrs. Markham's disintegrating reputation is difficult to hear but not so hard to believe. But her actions weren't what started the mean talk. And these threatening letters . . . well, they're filled with information that shows the writer knew a lot. A whole lot.”

Now Robert wished he and Jess had asked to see all the letters.

Lifting her eyes to his meaningfully, she said, “All that got me to thinking about who has the most to gain from all this talk.”

“I see,” he said. “Any idea who it is?”

“Well, I've got my ideas, and they begin and end with the two women who were sitting in that kitchen like they have any business even to step foot in it.”

“Do you think Mrs. Markham suspects them?”

“No, sir. I don't think any of us has imagined Lt. Markham's
own family would want to hurt his reputation. But they do have resentments about this house.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Winnie.”

“No, sir. Thank you for caring.”

Stunned at how much her words meant to him, he strode into the mansion's foyer. He'd intended to go up the stairs and knock on Miranda's door, but there was no need. She was standing by the front window, her focus completely fixed on the two women's retreating forms.

“Did they leave, Miranda? Or have they simply gone outside to tell their driver and collect their belongings?”

She turned his way. “They are gone,” she said with a bit of wonder in her voice. Then, still gazing at him, she smiled.

Truly smiled. It was beautiful.

T
HOUGH SHE COULDN
'
T EXACTLY BE SURE
, M
IRANDA KNEW
there had been a time when she had neither trusted nor loved Phillip Markham wholeheartedly. She was old enough and wise enough now to realize that love was not instantaneous.

It just was sometimes difficult to remember such a time.

She recalled their initial meeting as clearly as if it were yesterday. She'd gone in her family's carriage with her cousin Beatrice to Houston. After hours of primping and prepping, they walked into the assembly hall fairly bursting with exuberance.

An orchestra was playing, flowers were planted in vases, and there were so many men in resplendent gray and gold that Bea had actually gasped at the sight. And in the middle of it all was Phillip.

He had recently graduated from West Point. In addition, his family had purchased him commissions. Therefore, he was a striking, young second lieutenant who was a little in awe of his company when she and her cousin entered.

He and several men his age were talking to a pair of older-looking officers next to a table laden with lemonade and cookies. His hands were loosely clasped behind his back, and he was nodding at something one of the older men was saying.

Miranda thought he was the most handsome man there.

“Oh! There's James!” Beatrice had squealed.

Miranda giggled when Bea practically dragged her across the room toward the men. “Watch out, Beatrice,” she'd cautioned. But in truth, she hadn't minded getting pulled along. The men they were approaching were handsome, debonair, and close to their ages.

They were also standing conveniently far from the long line of seated chaperones. The older women were gossiping and sipping tea. No doubt feeling they had fulfilled their duties by simply showing up.

Walking toward the young officers by her cousin's side, Miranda had felt so grown up and full of herself. At last she was in the big city. She was dressed like a lady and even had her hair styled into an elegant twist. She had on a tight corset that reduced her waist to nineteen inches and enough crinolines and petticoats under her skirt to feel as if she were floating instead of merely walking. She wasn't a particularly vain girl, but she knew she had never looked so fine.

And then Phillip lifted his head and looked her way. He had curly blond hair, light blue eyes, and dimples. She thought he looked like an angel. And then he smiled at her.

And she? Well, she lost her heart right then and there.

The rest of the night was a blur of emotion. He bowed gallantly when they were introduced. She stammered and pretended she wasn't affected. When he immediately asked for her dance card and filled in his name in three places, she stopped pretending and enjoyed the attention.

Dancing in his arms had surpassed every girlish dream. He held her properly and sure, his right hand curving protectively on her waist. In between dances, he stood on the side and watched her dance with his friends. She'd had no experience in courtship or relationships, but even she knew he'd marked her as his.

And instead of being dismayed or afraid, she'd been glad.

After their three dances and countless glasses of lemonade and one long stroll along the building's back balcony, it was time to go. And then he raised her gloved hand to his lips and pressed his lips to her knuckles. She was so entranced she wished she could feel his touch on her bare skin.

Miranda had no doubt she would have stayed with Phillip until dawn broke if not for Beatrice and her mother's insistence that it was time to leave.

But when she finally turned away from him, trying not to cry, Miranda knew that in that one evening she had forever changed. Phillip Markham might not have been perfect, but he'd been perfect for her. And by the time they settled back into their awaiting carriage Miranda knew she had fallen in love.

In fact, Miranda had known without a shadow of a doubt that if he had proposed to her that evening she would have said yes.

She did say yes not even one month later and they were married the very next day. Her love for Phillip had been wild and overwhelming and all-consuming.

And then, of course, he went to war, and the battles that no one expected to happen did. Phillip fought and marched and commanded men. He'd been imprisoned and finally gone to heaven.

And she learned that just as nothing ever began from nothing, nothing ever lasted forever.

Now, as she looked at Robert Truax standing in the foyer of her boardinghouse so seriously, Miranda didn't know if she was falling in love. Part of her hoped that certainly wasn't the case. If she was falling in love, why, it made no sense.

Robert was nothing like Phillip. He was hard and bull-nosed where Phillip had been caring and amiable. He was rough around the edges where Phillip had always been smooth elegance. He was
also direct and blunt and loud and willful. She'd suspected Phillip was many of those things as well, but he'd always taken care to shield her from his baser emotions and actions.

Robert may have secrets, but he didn't hide anything he was.

For some reason, she found his honesty about himself strangely compelling. Attractive.

He was also going to move on one day soon. Even if he asked, Miranda wasn't sure if she'd leave with him. As hard as her life had been in Galveston, it was also her home.

All she currently understood was that she needed Robert right now. She was grateful for his presence, she liked being in his company, and she was tired of pretending that she didn't care about him.

Noticing that he was still standing still, his expression carefully void of any emotion, she walked to him.

Knowing he was still reeling from her in-laws' visit, she attempted to lighten the mood. “Before they left, my mother-in-law said I was a sinner and an embarrassment to the Markham name.” She smiled slightly so he would know that she wasn't too terribly hurt by the hateful statement.

But instead of looking amused, a muscle in his jaw clenched. “And Viola? What did she say?”

“I believe it was something to the effect that she was glad her brother had died so he would not be able to witness the type of woman his wife has become.” She did her best to remain looking amused, though Viola's words had been difficult to hear.

Robert sighed. “Miranda, I have heard a lot in my lifetime. But I have to tell you that I've never been forced to listen to any statements more appalling.”

“It wasn't that bad. You've been on the battlefield, after all.”

“I've also lived on the streets. But try as I might, I can't think
of any person who would target a lady such as you with such purposely cruel words.” His voice lowered. “I beg your pardon, but I don't believe I had ever had the misfortune to meet such ill-mannered women in my life before today.”

Though the women's words did pinch her feelings, Miranda realized they hadn't devastated her. Furthermore, she couldn't help but agree with his assessment.

“They certainly did come here with cruel intentions. I think they would have fired my whole staff and put them on the streets if they had been able to.” Thinking of how upset and dismayed they looked, she added, “I'm going to need to visit with them later and assure them that even if the worst happens I'll look after them as best I can.”

Robert began pacing. “Have they always treated you as such?”

“No. They were nicer when Phillip was alive. But they were always rather judgmental, I'm afraid. As I told you, I didn't have a lot of city polish and Phillip was quite a catch. They never thought I was good enough.”

“They were wrong. Phillip Markham was a man of many good qualities, and as far as I can tell, you are his equal in every way.”

“I don't know if that is quite the case, but it is very kind of you to say. For what it's worth, Phillip was never particularly close to them. They didn't visit all that often.”

Robert paused to stare at her. “I can't imagine that he would have wanted them here. What's more, I shudder at how he would have reacted if he'd witnessed such a scene. The man I was honored to know wouldn't have allowed any person to speak to you in such a manner.”

“Well, they wouldn't have spoken to me that way if he was here.”

Robert resumed his pacing. “I can't believe he comes from that
same family! The women were cold hearted and vindictive. Even when we were in prison, I never heard Phillip speak unkindly to anyone.” For the first time, humor entered his features. “Not even the guards.” He waved a hand. “Why, even when he was bossing us around, he was a gentleman. It used to annoy me to no end.”

“I imagine it would have. You don't seem like the kind of man to say please and thank you while being told to march.”

He chuckled. “I'm afraid I wasn't that kind of man even on my best days. And that, of course, is why Phillip was about to be made captain and I was advised to shape up and quickly.” At last, he stopped pacing and leaned against the banister leading upstairs.

“The problem, I believe, is that Mrs. Markham never wanted Phillip to marry me. She wanted him to marry one of the local girls.”

“Instead, he chose you.”

“He did. We had a whirlwind courtship. I think she might have come to accept me if Phillip had taken more of a concern for her feelings. I learned after Phillip brought me here that Ruth was hurt that he hadn't brought me to her for approval before he proposed.”

“I wonder why he didn't do that.”

“There wasn't time.” Feeling her cheeks flush, she corrected herself. “Rather, we didn't make time. We fell in love almost on sight and corresponded with each other for barely one month before he proposed. Actually, the moment he was given permission to obtain a week's leave, Phillip came to my house, informed my parents that he couldn't go into battle without making me his wife, and literally whisked me away.”

Robert fanned his face dramatically. “My goodness. Who knew Phillip had such impetuousness in him?”

“I suppose I did.”

“Your romance sounds like a fairy tale. It's good your parents
gave their permission.” He paused. “I'm assuming they did give their permission?”

She nodded. “My father said he and my mother worried that I'd simply elope if they didn't give their blessing.”

Robert raised both his eyebrows. “I guess you both were rather willful back then.”

“Oh, yes. Seriously, I think they would have been shocked if it hadn't been Phillip. But it was.” She shrugged. She had never been one to make the deceased into saints or paint them as perfect. But Phillip actually had been very close to perfect. “We got married that evening in Houston and he brought me here the next day. His mother and sister knew what he was going to do, and they left the premises immediately. My mother had all my things delivered here over the next few weeks, and we packed up theirs and sent them to their new home across the bay.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “You are blessed to have known such love, Miranda.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Before all this hullabaloo, I came downstairs to post a letter. Would you care to accompany me?” His voice gentled. “We could take care of your weekly deposit at the bank as well.”

“Yes, thank you. I would like to accompany you very much,” she admitted. Perhaps it was time to reclaim a little bit of that impetuousness she once had.

Looking down at the gown she was wearing, she knew it wouldn't do. “Robert, would you be able to wait a few minutes? I need to change my gown. I promise I'll hurry.”

For the first time since he walked into the foyer, something tender entered his expression. “Mrs. Markham, I may not be the gentleman Phillip Markham was, but even I know never to rush a woman.” They had stepped from the foyer into the parlor, and
now he walked over to one of the wing chairs situated in front of the for-once roaring fireplace. “I'll cool my heels here as long as you need. So take your time.”

The absurdity of his words made her flirt a bit. “Your offer is very gallant, Mr. Truax. However, I'll do my best to make sure your heels don't have too long to cool in front of the flames.”

He laughed. “Touché, madam.”

His laughter rang in her ears the whole way upstairs.