Always in My Dreams (52 page)

Parnell sat up straighter. "He actually said Miss Dennehy had a weapon?"

"That's what I got out of it."

"Perhaps I should talk to the boy."

Annie shook her head quickly. "I don't think he'd tell you," she said. "And if he did, I don't think you'd understand him."

"But you had no such difficulty," he said skeptically.

Annie's reply was forceful and inarguable. "I'm his mother."

Parnell pushed aside the plates from his dinner and rested his forearm on the table. His fingertips followed the embroidered pattern in the linen tablecloth as he thought. "Did your son see the gun?"

"I don't know. Do you think Miss Dennehy is carrying it on her person?"

Parnell refrained from answering that question. "Was she alone with your son?"

Annie nodded. "They weren't gone above twenty minutes. I was on the point of going to get Matt, but Mr. Caide offered to do it for me."

"Mr. Caide," Parnell said softly. "So he and Miss Dennehy were there together."

Annie felt as if Parnell was missing the point. It was not her intention to involve Walker Caide. "Only a few minutes. He brought them both right back."

Parnell had heard enough. "Thank you, Miss Staplehurst. You can go." He waited until she had made a small curtsy before he added, "And keep on going. I expect that you'll be gone as soon as Hank and Walker repair the carriage. Hank will take you into town. I'll have Mrs. Reading arrange it."

Annie's stoic features were shattered by this announcement. Tears welled in her eyes and her complexion went from ruddy to ash. "But, sir, I didn't—"

He held up one hand, stopping her. "You've betrayed your friend," he said. "Miss Dennehy was responsible for you gaining a position in this house and she treated you fairly. Now that she's returned you've proved to me that you can't make room for her. Since I have no intention of dismissing her, you'll have to leave."

"But I did it for you, sir!"

Parnell shook his head, his lip curling derisively. "I'm not a fool, Miss Staplehurst. You did it for yourself." He came to his feet. "I'll prepare a letter of reference for you to take and there will be severance pay. I'll expect you in the library at the end of an hour. Both will be waiting for you. See that you're not late." He went to the door and held it open for Annie. He heard her sob as she passed.

* * *

Skye tensed when she heard footsteps outside her own door. The sun had gone down hours earlier and every lamp in the bedroom flickered. The heavy drapes were drawn against the inky sky and a fire was laid as much for the light it provided as for the heat.

She paused in unpacking her clothes. The armoire stood open, half-filled now with the items from her trunk. "Yes?" she asked. "Who is it?" There was no response. Skye set her gown aside and moved closer to the door. "Is someone there?" There was no single word Skye could identify, but she recognized the sound of someone's pain.

She had used a chair to reinforce the locked door and now she pushed it aside. As soon as the door was opened, Annie stumbled into the room. Skye caught her by the elbow and supported her. Annie's solid, yet somehow frail form rested against Skye. She was sobbing uncontrollably, her grief so profound that Skye felt it as a wound on her own heart.

"What is it, Annie?" Skye patted the back of Annie's heaving shoulders. "Annie, you have to tell me what's wrong. Is it Matthew? Has something happened to Matt?" The door was pushed wider and the little boy in question came into the room. He pressed himself into his mother's skirts, holding onto them with pudgy fists.

Annie straightened and stepped away. Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes, but a single shudder helped her gain control. She was grateful for the handkerchief Skye pressed into her hand. She blew her nose.

Skye knelt and pried Matt's fingers away from Annie's gown. The boy was frightened by his mother's distress and Annie was unable to comfort him. He went into Skye's arms with only a little prompting. She looked up at Annie. "Can you tell me what's wrong?" she asked. "You know I'll help you if I can." For reasons that Skye couldn't divine, her offer prompted another bout of tears. She felt Matthew grow restless in her embrace. He was losing interest now, more confident perhaps in her ability to help his mother. She gave him a small pat on the bottom and let him wander away. He went directly to her writing desk and began plucking papers from the top.

Annie watched him out of the corner of her eye. "He'll make a mess," she said.

"Never mind about Matt. He's fine." Skye rose and led Annie over to the bed to sit. "Tell me why you're crying and what's to be done."

Annie pressed the balled handkerchief against her mouth to stifle a sob. "He's dismissed me."

The words were almost unintelligible and Skye strained to hear them. She frowned, not certain she'd heard correctly. "Annie, I don't think I understood. It sounded as if you said you've been dismissed."

Annie's nod was violently affirmative. Her tightly closed eyes squeezed out another round of tears. She knuckled them away. "He says I'm to go. Right away. Tonight. I've done a terrible thing, Skye," she said miserably. "A terrible thing."

Skye couldn't fathom the behavior that would have prompted Annie's dismissal. "You'd better tell me the whole of it."

"It's a betrayal," she said. Her eyes pleaded with Skye for understanding. "Just like he said. I didn't do it for him. I did it for me. Oh, that I could be so selfish. Even if you can forgive me, I won't be able to forgive myself."

Alarmed, Skye placed her hands on Annie's shoulders and gave her a little shake. "Tell me, Annie. What have you done?"

"I told him about your gun. I know you have one. Matt told me. It's true, isn't it? Matt wouldn't have lied."

"It doesn't matter now," Skye said. She let her hands fall away from Annie and crossed her arms in front of her. She felt cold suddenly. "You didn't give me an opportunity to explain. You went directly to Mr. Parnell. Why didn't you ask me about it?" Skye saw Annie's eyes dart away and the flush of pained embarrassment color her complexion again. "Oh, Annie," she said sadly. "You thought he'd dismiss me."

Annie nodded. "I thought he'd be grateful that I was lookin' out for him," she whispered. "Instead he saw right through me. Matt and I have got to leave and you'll be staying." She dabbed at her eyes again and risked a glance at Skye. "I'm sorry. I truly am. I should have learned my lesson the first time."

Skye was still thinking hard, wondering how to handle Parnell when he confronted her. It was inevitable that he would. She would have to lie, and it would have to sound plausible. "What do you mean?" she asked absently. "What lesson?"

"That you always land on your feet."

It wasn't what Skye expected Annie might say. She frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"The time you went to the cellar," Annie said. "One of the first nights you were here. I was on my way to the kitchen myself, and I glimpsed you going in that direction. I thought you probably didn't want company, so I let you go on. When I went down a little later, your pan of milk was warm by the stove and you weren't around." Annie sniffed. She brushed the tip of her nose with the handkerchief. "I heard you in the cellar. You knew you weren't supposed to go down there. We've all been warned off right from the start. It came to me suddenly, just a thought that I should have pushed to the back of my mind. But I couldn't."

Now Skye knew what she was going to hear. She remained quiet, letting Annie say it.

"I shut the door and locked it. I knew it was wrong—you'd been so very good to me—but I thought if I could secure your position, things would be better for Matt and me."

"Is that all you did?" asked Skye. "Did you tell anyone?"

Annie shook her head. "I didn't think I'd have to. I thought you'd be discovered there and the matter would take care of itself. I was glad when I realized the next day that you'd got out. You have to believe me. I felt terrible about what I'd done."

"Not so terrible that you let me out."

"But I didn't give you away when I had the chance." At Skye's questioning look, she explained, "Mrs. Reading came through. I could have told her where you'd gone, but I didn't."

"She asked about me?"

"She asked about the milk on the stove."

Skye remembered putting the milk on to warm. She was going to have graveyard stew to help her sleep. The sugar and cinnamon were sitting out on the table. So were a few crusts of bread. She had prepared the same thing for herself the evening before, the first night at Granville, and Mrs. Reading had watched her. "Did you tell her the milk was yours?"

"I did," Annie said. "But I told her I didn't want it any longer. I was going to put it away, but she told me to leave it."

"And then you left."

"That's right. I could have told her where you were. Surely it counts for something."

"It's all right, Annie. What's done is done. There's no sense making yourself sick over it." It was clear to Skye that Mrs. Reading hadn't believed Annie about the milk. Corina might not have realized that she was in the cellar then, but the cook knew she had been around recently. "You'd better begin packing your things. There's nothing I can do for you here. Mr. Parnell isn't going to change his mind."

"I don't want him to change his mind," she said. "I didn't come here for that. I wanted you to know what I've done. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I wish I could take it back." She saw Skye's skeptical expression. "And not because I lost my position. This is a frightening place, Skye. There's part of me that's glad to go. I can't sleep most nights for hearing the Granville ghost pace the floor."

Skye didn't want to hear Annie's stories about the ghost. "Annie," she said firmly. "If Mr. Parnell is telling you to leave tonight, then—"

"Do you forgive me?"

"Yes, I forgive you." She took Annie's large, hardworking hands in her own. She captured Annie's gaze, held it, and then spoke deliberately and slowly. "Listen to me. I'm not angry with you. Of course, I forgive you. I want you to pack your things and go to Baileyboro. Get a ticket for New York and present yourself to a house at 50th and Broadway. Ask for Mrs. Cavanaugh."

Annie was uncertain. "What sort of house?" she asked. "You know I ain't the kind that—"

Skye squeezed her hands. "Annie, it's not a brothel. It's a family home, and I'm known there. Mrs. Cavanaugh. Can you remember that, or shall I write it for you?" Annie repeated the name. "Good. You'll do fine. Tell them I'd like you to have work there. They'll take you in and let you stay as long as you behave yourself."

"Oh, I will. I
will.
" She leaned forward and hugged Skye. "The others think you like Mr. Parnell's attentions," she said. "I know it's different with you. That's why I could believe Matt about the gun." She drew back and glanced around. "Where'd he go?"

Skye swiveled around on the bed and looked for Matt. "He must be hiding. He hasn't left the room. The door's still closed." She dropped on her knees beside the bed and looked under it. Matt hadn't crawled there. "Where are you, Matt?"

Annie was up and looking behind the chair. She tried Skye's trunk next, lifting a few of the topmost belongings. Her son's little towhead didn't appear. "Matthew Staplehurst! Show yourself right now!" Both women listened. There wasn't so much as a giggle to reveal the whereabouts of the boy.

Hands on her hips, Skye surveyed the room. "This is silly," she said. "He can't have disappeared." Her eyes fell on the armoire. The door to it was still ajar from when she had been interrupted. She placed one finger over her lips and pointed it out to Annie.

Annie nodded, understanding. She tiptoed quietly toward the armoire and opened the door fully. Without any warning, her hand snaked in. Her plan was to come out with a handful of boy. She pulled out crumpled linens instead. "I'll be darned," she said, staring at them. "I was sure—"

Skye was sure, too. "I had those folded," she said. "The little scamp must have made a nest for himself." She dropped down in front of the deep armoire and leaned in, rooting around for an ankle or wrist that wasn't hidden as well as the rest. "Matt, come out—" Her voice broke off abruptly when her hand seemed to go through the back of the wardrobe. "Annie, go next door to Parnell's room. See if Matt's there."

"Why in the world—"

"Just go, Annie." As soon as she heard Annie leave the room, Skye pressed forward, crawling into the armoire in just the manner she was sure Matthew had. The panel at the back was already open, swinging outward into Parnell's room, or more specifically, into Parnell's own armoire. The opening was small but easily negotiated by someone on their hands and knees. Skye had no difficulty moving through it. She understood now that Parnell had had no difficulty either.

Skye yanked on her gown as it caught beneath her, then she pushed the rest of the way through, opening the outer doors to Parnell's armoire. She grinned when she saw Annie sitting on Parnell's bed with Matthew in her lap. "Look at that. You've got him. As soon as I found the opening, I knew he'd be in here." It took Skye a moment to realize that Annie wasn't sharing her satisfaction. Even Matthew looked unusually subdued.

"What is it?" she asked. She started to climb out of the wardrobe. It was an awkward journey and her gown impeded her progress. She was startled when she felt herself being hauled upward, a firm hand grasping the coil of hair at her nape. Her hands went automatically to the back of her head to keep her hair from being torn out by its roots.