Heart of the Ocean (24 page)

A stooped man stood behind the counter, dressed in a clean
white apron. His watery gray eyes surveyed her with surprising steadiness.

“I’m looking for Goodwife Temple,” she told him.

The man nodded and rang a bell. Soon a woman appeared from
the back room, looking as aged as the man behind the counter. “Yes?”

“My name is Eliza Robinson. The constable said I could find
a room for the night here.”

Goodwife Temple appraised her then nodded. “I’ll show thee
the way.”

Eliza followed the woman’s slow step up the back stairs. Two
rooms were at the top of the landing, one occupied with personal belongings,
the other bare except for a washbasin and bed.

The goodwife motioned her to follow. “This will be thy room.
Master Temple and I are next door if thou needest anything.”

Eliza crossed to the window and looked out across the
street. “Have you lived above the bakery long?”

“Many years now. After Mistress Talbot passed, we bought the
place and turned the downstairs into a bakery.”

Eliza spun around and stared at the elderly lady. “Mistress Talbot?”
So this was where Helena grew up. This might be her bedroom.

“Aye.” The woman looked at her with curiosity. “We didn’t
need all of the room and didn’t want any space to fall into idleness.”

Eliza sank onto the bed, lost in thought. Downstairs was
where Helena had probably first noticed Jonathan Senior watching her. The walls
looked recently whitewashed and the floor polished. She traced the quilt
beneath her and wondered if this was the same bed Helena had grieved for her
lost lover. Goodwife Temple left the room, shutting the door softly behind her.  

The absolute silence woke her.

Stillness surrounded her like the soft quilts Aunt Maeve
used to stitch. Eliza closed her eyes and tried to imagine Maeve’s home. The
sturdy clapboards formed a square, and the second story sat upon the first like
a well-designed birthday cake. Then the walls changed and stretched upward, narrowing
toward the top.

The lighthouse.

Eliza sat up in bed.
Helena is in the lighthouse.
Eliza
thought back to the last conversation she’d had with Gus. What had he said
about where they hid the body? He
hadn’t
said.

If Helena’s body was somewhere in the lighthouse, then it
hadn’t been buried.

“Now I understand,” she whispered into the gray light of
dawn. “You want your body to be properly buried.”

The sun had yet to rise, but Eliza couldn’t waste another
moment. She rose and dressed quietly, trying not to disturb her slumbering
hosts in the next room.

Once outside, she saddled the hired horse Master Temple had
tied behind the bakery for her. The mount stepped cautiously along Main Street,
as if he knew it was prudent to be quiet. When they reached the end of the
buildings on the road, Eliza urged the horse faster. Soon they were galloping
along the way leading to Maeve’s property.

Only when the lighthouse came into view did Eliza rein the
horse in. She panted as hard as the animal. Heart beating wildly, she climbed
down and tied the horse to a nearby tree then she let herself into the
lighthouse.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimness
inside. She wished for a candle. She took a deep breath. “I’m here, Helena.
What do I do now?”

After waiting several moments in silence, Eliza felt
foolish. Here she was, just before dawn, standing alone in a lighthouse,
talking to herself. Not to mention she was still wearing her nightdress. Eliza
turned and reached for the door. Then a shuffling sound above made her stop
cold in her tracks.

She groped for the door handle in the dark then she saw the
knob, suddenly illuminated in an orange glow. A deep shiver ran through her
entire body as she realized with horror that a candle had been lit behind her.

“Thou hast returned,” a guttural voice said.

Eliza turned, terror filling her. Two large eyes peered from
the shadows, grotesquely illuminated by the flickering flame of the candle Gus
held in front of him. She covered her mouth, stifling a scream.

“Don’t be afraid, my dear,” a woman’s voice spoke behind
him. “We’ve been expecting thee.”

Eliza stared as a slight figure stepped from behind Gus.

“Ruth?” Eliza managed to whisper. She was confused. “What
are you doing here?”

Chuckling, Ruth took the candle from Gus. Her thin gray hair
hung in strands about her wrinkled face, and the nightgown she wore was
crumpled and soiled. “We might ask the same question of thee.”

Something cold and dark seeped into Eliza’s heart. Had Ruth
been hiding Gus? Is that why no one had seen him in town?

“I heard thou was in Maybrook. I knew it was only a matter
of time before Helena led thee here.” Ruth moved closer, eyes glinting in the
candlelight. “She speaks to me, too,” Ruth said, linking her arm through Gus’s.

Eliza felt a sense of relief flood through her. Ruth wanted
the same answers she did. But why would Ruth care for Gus now? Why would she
harbor a criminal? “Then you know Helena wants a proper burial.”

A laugh erupted from Ruth’s small frame. As the pitch rose,
Gus joined in.

Eliza looked from one to the other. “Am I mistaken, then?”

When Ruth’s body stopped shaking, she said, “No, my dear.
Thou are correct—almost. Helena doesn’t plead with me as she must you. She
threatens
me.”

Cold shuddered through Eliza. “What about?”

A smile spread on Ruth’s wrinkled face, looking grotesque in
the candlelight. “She wants her revenge. She’s an angry spirit, but I think I
know what will silence her.”

Eliza’s breath caught, and she took a step back until her back
touched the wall. Had Ruth already found the body and buried it? “She wants a
proper burial,” she said again.

Ruth barked out a laugh and shuffled forward, holding the
candle higher and casting her face into a deeper shadow. “Helena doesn’t
deserve a proper burial. She was evil. She tried to hurt my brother—”

“My father,” Gus interrupted. “She tried to leave him and bring
disgrace to his name.”

Eliza stared at Ruth. “Gus Senior was your brother?” she
whispered.

The smile returned to Ruth’s face, and Eliza shuddered. Her
mind spun as she remembered the words in the journal. Ruth wouldn’t have been
happy if Helena had abandoned her brother.

“A sister will do anything to protect her brother and nephew
from being abandoned.” Ruth took a step forward.

Of course
. . . Dread filled Eliza’s stomach. “What
did you do to Helena?”

Ruth chuckled. The sound turned into an eerie high pitch. “We
gave her what she deserved—it wasn’t right that she leave my brother. So I helped
him get rid of her, as we will now do with thee.”

Eliza gulped, and her hands automatically flew to her
throat. She glanced wildly about the floor and along the walls for some kind of
weapon, but there was nothing.

“Helena will never have a proper burial, but I’m sure she’ll
enjoy thy company. She’ll see that she can’t haunt us anymore, for she’ll know
it will only bring more death.” Ruth’s eyes narrowed as she held the candle
high in the air.

Gus tapped the floorboards with his foot. “Under here is
where thou’ll rest thy pretty head.” He sank to his knees and pressed his cheek
to the floorboards. “It’s a secret,” he said, stroking the wooden planks
beneath him. “I won’t tell . . .”

“She’s under the floor?” Eliza asked, her voice thin.

Gus raised his head, eyes smoldering. “Never tell—
I said
never tell
.” He stood and began to move towards Eliza again.

“No,” she said. “I’ll never tell.”

Ruth held a pistol aimed at Eliza. “Revenge is always sweet,
my dear.”

Eliza shrank against the door, grasping for the latch. She
turned and pulled with all her strength.

“Move out of the way, Gus!” Ruth shouted.

Eliza felt his greedy arms encircle her and squeeze. She
gasped for air, and it was as if her lungs couldn’t get enough. Just as she
felt she would faint, the door crashed open.

A cloaked figure yanked Gus away by his hair. A shot from
the pistol rang out, and Eliza screamed. Gus howled in pain and wriggled free
from the figure, then staggered out of the lighthouse.

The stranger turned to Ruth, who switched her aim from Eliza
to his head. With one swift lunge, the man had the pistol wrested away from
her. Ruth screamed and sank to the floor, sobbing.

The stranger ran out of the lighthouse, in pursuit of Gus.

Ruth was crying in hysterics on the floor. “My gun!” she
called out. She struggled to her feet, desperate eyes focused on Eliza. “Thou
hast ruined everything!”

Eliza braced herself as Ruth dove against her. She fought
off the old woman’s clawing hands and kicking feet. Then Eliza was able to
deliver a strong blow to Ruth’s torso, which sent her sprawling backwards.

For a moment, Ruth looked dazed, and then she crawled to the
door. Grabbing onto the handle, she pulled herself to a standing position. “I
must save Gus,” she hissed. She stumbled out the door and ran in the direction
of the ocean.

Eliza wrapped her arms around her quivering body. Several
minutes passed before she felt steady enough to leave the lighthouse. Against
the brightening horizon, she saw a lone figure returning. Panic caught in her
throat. Was it Gus? She ran to her horse then started to untie it with shaking
fingers.

“Wait!”

Eliza froze. She knew that voice. “Jon?” she whispered in
disbelief, letting the reins drop from her hands.

Then she was in his arms.

The trembling came first, then the sobs. He only held her
tighter and stroked her hair, murmuring, “It’s over.”

 When she couldn’t cry any more, she raised her face and
gazed at him. “Are you really here?”

Jon touched her cheek, wiping tears from them. “I thought I
was too late . . . when I saw the horse and the light inside . . . I could only
hope you were all right.”

“But how did you know?” Eliza asked.

“Your father came to me for help when he found your note.
Said you’d come to Maybrook, that you hadn’t been well . . . We came as soon as
we could; your father went to alert the constable.” He paused, gazing at her
long and hard. “And my mother told me you were in the lighthouse.”

Tears filled Eliza’s eyes again. “Her body is beneath the
floorboards.”

Jon released his hold and took her hands, hanging his head
for a moment. When he raised his eyes, they were moist. “We’ll have her
properly buried so that she can rest in peace at last.”

Eliza nodded numbly. Jon led her to a tree and spread his
cloak on the ground, but Eliza pulled back.

“They’ll return soon,” Eliza said, fear rising in her voice.

“No . . . Gus jumped.”

Eliza stared at him. “What?”

“Gus ran straight for the cliff. Didn’t even slow down,” Jon
said quietly. “Ruth is out calling for him. I can’t believe the woman who cared
for me all those years could do such a thing . . .” He sank onto the cloak,
staring in the distance.

Eliza settled next to him. “I don’t think any woman with
half a heart could turn away an innocent little boy.” She did wonder why Ruth
raised little Jon, but perhaps the woman had compassion buried deep inside.
Perhaps she couldn’t reject a little boy who had already been rejected by the
town, even though she was angry at his mother.

They sat together as the sun began its ascent in the east. Its
rays sparkled against the blue-green sea, and it was difficult for Eliza to
comprehend the beauty of the morning after the horror of what had happened. Several
moments passed before Jon spoke again. “Eliza,” he said then stopped, looking
away. “I cannot abide what you must think of me . . . I was a coward to send
that letter. I should have told you in person.”

She swallowed over the lump in her throat, not knowing what
to say.

“I should have come to see you, but I was afraid,” he said.
“Afraid of what I had revealed in the letter.” He looked at her expectantly.

For a moment, she remained silent. “Was it true?”

“At the time it was. I was confused, thinking you would be
marrying Nathaniel,” he said, looking away.

Shaking her head, she whispered, “Oh, Jon, I told you—”

“I know. But I couldn’t believe it then, not after the way
he looked at you.”

Eliza hung her head. He’d said he was
confused
. He
probably hadn’t meant the words in his letter.

“You took my heart with you when you went to France,” Jon
said. “I tried to make the relationship with Apryl work anyway. When she broke
it off, I was angry because of the sacrifices I had made. I knew I was falling
in love with you, but I was still willing to marry Apryl. I didn’t want to be
like my father, abandoning my commitments. It wasn’t until you left that I realized
exactly what I’d lost.”

Eliza raised her eyes, not daring to believe his words.

“My mother knew that I loved you before I did. She trusted
you with the truth, and for that you paid a heavy price,” he said.

Biting her lip, Eliza felt tears begin to form.

“This belongs to you,” Jon said, removing a well-worn
handkerchief from his waistcoat. The initials
E.M.R.
were embroidered in
the corner. “I found it in your aunt’s house last year, and I’ve kept it all
this time.”

She took the handkerchief, amazed that he’d held on to it.

Jon continued. “Until I met you, I was a self-serving man
who cared little for anyone else. My only happiness was found in ambition. But
I have changed.” He reached out and took her hand in his. “Being engaged to Apryl,
I sacrificed my love for you, Eliza.” He took her other hand and stood, pulling
her up with him. “But that has all altered. You have my heart now, if you want
it.”

It was all she could do to blink back the tears. Were
Nathaniel and Thomas really gone from her life? Could she believe Jon’s words at
last? Her resolve melted; and she could no longer remain silent.

With a trembling hand, she touched his face, something she’d
only imagined doing again in her dreams. But the flesh beneath her fingers was
real—warm and alive. She touched his hair then let her fingers travel around
his ear, down his neck, stopping at his shoulder. With each beat of her heart,
she surrendered more.

He kissed her slowly at first, gently, his hands pulling her
close. Then his kiss deepened, searching and exploring, and Eliza felt as if
she’d melt against him. It was as if he couldn’t stop and never intended to.

When he broke away so they could breathe, Eliza clung to him
and buried her face against this neck. His arms cradled her, and she felt safe
for the first time in as long as she could remember. She lifted her head, and
he gazed down at her, the corners of his mouth lifting and his brown eyes warm
in the morning light.

“Will you marry me, Elizabeth May Robinson?” he whispered.

“Yes,” she whispered back.

The galloping of two horses reached her ears; her father and
the constable had arrived. Everything would be all right. Everything would be
taken care of now. Helena would be put to rest, and Jon . . . she gazed into
his eyes and smiled. Jon would finally be hers.