M. Donice Byrd - The Warner Saga (36 page)

So, was it this newly discovered love for her that prompted his visit to Rebecca? Was he going to say goodbye? Meredith wanted to believe him when he said he and Rebecca were not involved. Rebecca had denied it as well. But there was some kind of connection that continued to draw them together.

The fact that he had been honest when she asked if he was going to see her made her believe there was nothing for him to hide, nothing for her to be jealous about. But if it was a friendship and nothing more, he knew she didn’t like it and he’d gone to end it. Why else would he go? He’d been honest when he said it was the last time as far as he knew. It would have been so easy for him to say what she wanted to hear and even though it hurt a little to imagine there might be a time when he would seek her again, as far as he knew, this would be the last time.

Meredith rode around the course of smaller
jumps twice before she returned home. It was still early and cold and the park had been nearly empty which was why she enjoyed riding after breakfast. It was actually the first time she’d gone by herself but she had been there enough times with Blake that she had no trouble finding her way there or back.

Meredith groomed Viper before returning to her room to change her clothes. Blake kept asking her if she wanted a lady's maid to assist her with her hair and change her gowns and Meredith kept saying no. She rarely needed assistance fastening her gowns and when she did, Blake could help her. Her hair was a different story. Despite how rustic it may appear, Meredith chose to wear it in a single braid down the middle of her back or just straight. The only time she ever wore it up was when she went out for the evening and that was the only time she struggled. Thankfully she had discovered the hairnet which seemed to be acceptable in all but the most formal
situations and when she had to wear it up, she seemed to be able to manage a simple chignon.

As Meredith finished dressing
, she went to the mirror on Blake’s chest of drawers to check her hair. She was about to turn to go downstairs when Meredith noticed Blake’s shaving kit sitting atop the chest of drawers. She picked up the mug with the spicy scented soap in it and held it under her nose as she closed her eyes and deeply inhaled the scent. It was his shaving soap that always made him smell so good.

Meredith set down the mug and picked up his razor. She knew now, the gold initials inlaid into the ivory were his father, Randolph Knight’s. She reverently touched the initials. It was the first time Blake left the razor out. Normally
, he kept it in his pocket and at night, he put it in the drawer with his unmentionables. This razor, he said, was the only item he owned that he would’ve come back to their cabin for the morning after he took her innocence. How odd, she thought. Blake must regard it with a great deal of sentimentality. Perhaps it was a gift from his mother to his father and passed on to him when he began to shave.

Meredith opened the blade and was struck by the looseness of the hinge; surely most men would prefer the hinge to be tight as they shaved just to ensure the blade didn’t move when it wasn’t supposed to. The blade itself showed wear from the decades of sharpening.

Meredith toyed with the idea of having it repaired but thought sentimentality being what it was, he’d probably preferred she not have it refurbished. If it bothered Blake, he’d get it fixed himself. But then she wondered if she could buy him a new razor. Perhaps she could have one made to look exactly the same except with his initials inlaid into the ivory.

Suddenly, the door swung open and Blake strode into the room. Meredith jumped with the guilty start and
thrust her hand and the razor in it behind her back.

“What…?” Blake said as he saw her hide something behind her back. It only took a moment for him to figure out what was in her hand. She stood next to his chest of drawers. There was nothing there for her to feel guilty about looking at except one thing.

Blake felt the color drain from his face and fought to keep the bile from rising in his throat.

“Give it to me,” he shouted, between clenched teeth.

Meredith blanched at his tone. Shakily, she pulled her hand out from behind her back and uncurled her slender fingers from around the razor, handing it to him palm up.

“I-I’m sorry, I –”

Blake angrily snatched it out of her hand and pocketed it.

“What the hell are you doing, Meredith? How many times do I have to tell you
, I’m not having an affair with her? I can’t believe you’d be in here thinking of opening a vein over me going to talk to her. Criminy!”

Blake grabbed his carpet bag out of the wardrobe and began stuffing clothes into it.

“Blake, I wasn’t – I would never –Where are you going?”

“I have to go somewhere. I can do this, Meredith. I can’t be married to someone who could do that.”

“Do what? I didn’t do anything. I wasn’t even thinking about doing anything.”

“I saw it in your hand with my own eyes.”

“My God, you’re leaving me? Over touching your stupid – good luck charm?”

Blake stopped dead in his tracks and eyed her
menacingly. “Go to hell.”

Reaching into his pocket
, he pulled out his money and threw it on the bed. “When I get back, I’ll open an account for you. Make that last until then. Have a maid packed my clothes in my trunks and send them to the Regent Arms.”

Blake turned on his heel. “Decide whether you want to keep Pete and Lolly or you want me to have them. My lawyer will contact you when I get back.”

34

Meredith stood in the bedroom staring at the door for an interminable stretch of time, trying to understand what happened. How could he think she would even entertain the idea of killing herself? She was happy. She was in love and pregnant and he finally told her he loved her.

Was he so unwilling to give his heart to anyone that he was seeing things just to keep him from loving her? Did something happen when he visited Rebecca? Could Rebecca turn him away from her? Were he and Rebecca going somewhere together? Did he want her to come after him to prove she loved him? Was this some kind of game he was playing?

Suddenly, Lolly bounded into the room. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she said. “Mrs. Obermeyer says luncheon is ready. Why does she call it luncheon? We always called it dinner. And she calls supper dinner.”

Meredith forced herself into the present and tried to focus on what the beautiful little girl was saying.
“I suppose it’s just one of those things we farm girls have to get used to when we move into the city.”

“Where’s Uncle Blake?”

“I don’t know. He told me he needed to go on a trip.”

Lolly’s bottom lip pouted out. “He didn’t say goodbye to me and Petey.”

Meredith herself didn’t understand what happened or how to explain it to Lolly. Blake hadn’t even taken time to fold his clothes. It was as if the hounds of hell nipped at his heels.

“There was an emergency. He didn’t have time to say goodbye.”

Why was she making up excuses for him? He didn’t deserve it. But she knew she was doing it for Lolly’s sake, not his.

“Uncle Blake wanted me to tell you, he loves you and is going to miss you.”

“When is he coming home?”

“He didn’t know.”

“Oh.”

Meredith could see the disappointment in the girl’s face. Lolly was very attached to Blake. In the evenings, after dinner, she loved to curl up in his lap and let him read her a story. Meredith couldn’t count the number of times she fell asleep in his lap or how many checker games he let her win.

Pete was waiting in his place at the table when they arrived.

“Uncle Blake’s gone away,” Lolly told Pete before she climbed into her chair.

Pete pulled out his tablet and wrote a note to Meredith. “Is he dead?”

Meredith read the note but couldn’t fathom why he asked that. Had he once been told that someone who died had gone away? Meredith didn’t want to offer more explanation in front of Lolly. She picked up his pencil and wrote a note back. Pete was old enough for the truth.

“Blake is fine but I don’t believe he is coming back. We had a fight and he has left me. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. He just can’t stay here with me.”

Pete’s eyes grew wide.

“Everything is going to be fine,” Meredith said her voice wavering slightly. She reached for a platter of food and frowned, unsure exactly what was on it. With a sigh she put some on her plate and a little on Lolly’s before handing it to Pete. “What do you suppose it is?” she asked, glad for any distraction.

Pete looked at her and shrugged as he passed a
platter with two different meats on it to her.

“Roast pork, roast beef, some sort of meat pie and one unidentifiable vegetable,” Meredith lamented. “I’m afraid this food is too rich for me.”

“I want,” Pete began signing but stopped when he didn’t know the word, “n-o-r-m-a-l food.”

“What did Petey spell?”

“Normal,” Meredith said. “I want normal food, too. After dinner, let’s make a list of what we like and we’ll make up menus for Mrs. Obermeyer. Let’s show her your ma’s recipes and see if she can cook them.”

Meredith got through the next few days by keeping busy with the children. She even sat in on their lessons. Since there hadn’t been a school in New London as she grew up, she found the process Mrs. Banyan used both foreign and strangely familiar. But mostly she watched Sam so she could attempt to keep up with Pete and Lolly.

It was the nighttime and the evening hours after Pete and Lolly went to bed that were the hardest to get through. That was when the tears came.

35

Blake stepped into the ante-chamber of his father’s
Washington senatorial offices. Not surprisingly, it was filled with his secretary sitting at his desk, aides, pages and people waiting for their turn with the senator. Seeing all the tidily attired men, Blake became acutely aware of his rumpled appearance.

“May I help you?” the secretary, a balding man ten years Blake’s senior asked with a haughty air.

“Blake Warner to see Senator Knight.”

The man checked his appointment ledger. “You don’t seem to have an appointment.”

“He’ll see me. Please, inform him I’m here.”

“Sir, ten people a day
tell me the same thing. You’ll have to make an appointment. He can see you in three weeks.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to curse the man and tell him he was Senator Knight’s bastard son. That was the kind of mood he was in. “I’m a friend of his daughter, Donna. I’ve brought news about her husband, Hamilton Daily. I only need five minutes.”

The man hesitated then asked his name again and disappeared into the inner office. It only took about fifteen seconds for the secretary to reemerge with the two men who were currently meeting with the senator.

“You may go in,” the secretary said in a condescending tone as he gave Blake’s appearance an obvious look.

His father was coming around the desk when Blake entered. “Blake is Hamilton…?”

“I’m sorry to have worried you, I haven’t heard anything,” Blake said closing the heavy door behind him. “Your secretary wasn’t going to let me in. I-I need to talk
to you; if not now, maybe later tonight.”

“Those men are just lobbyist. I can squeeze them in later.”

Randolph Knight embraced Blake. “You look terrible, son. What’s the matter?”

Blake had never been to his father’s offices so his presence there was enough to alarm him but combined with his appearance,
Randolph sensed something was wrong.

He hadn’t shaved since he left
Chicago. He couldn’t look at the razor without seeing it in Meredith’s small hand. At night, he dreamed of his mother’s lifeless body but before the end of the dream, her face became Meredith’s face. As a result, he barely slept.

“We’ve never spoken about Beth.”

“Your mother?” Randolph puzzled, having never heard Blake refer to her by her pet name. “No, we never have.”

“Do you know where she’s buried?” Blake tried to sound casual despite his inner turmoil. He wasn’t asking because he had plans to ever visit her grave but he was using it as an excuse to break the ice.