Seductive Lies (Secret Lives Series) (14 page)

Yet as much as she missed Arthur, she had never regretted her decision. The moment Victoria lay in her arms, the whole of her being lived for her daughter.
She never had imagined the feeling her daughter evoked within her.

The respectability she desired for her child hinged on the deception of being a widow. Carlisle arranged that also. Mrs. Stuart’s nephew died from injuries sustained in the war. The timing worked to Harriet’s advantage and she became the widow of Lieutenant Nigel Whitmore.

Mrs. Stuart lived on a small estate of twenty acres including a lovely lake. Bagden Manor became home to Harriet and her child. The house itself was overly large. If Harriet wanted, she would not have to interact with the elderly woman, but she found Aunt Eleanor most welcoming. The lady asked no questions of her past, but took to her as if she were indeed family. Perhaps in a way, they were. Neither had anyone else. They had only each other and Victoria.

Harriet found acceptance in her new life. When she arrived, she had been shy and withdrawn. It was to be expected
, having only thus lost her husband. A normal reaction. One that Harriet did not have to feign, for she had indeed lost the love of her life. Over time, Harriet was thrust into the activities of the village. She hadn’t a choice. She discovered that Aunt Eleanor was the heart of the community.

“Mrs. Whitmore,” a familiar voice called from behind her. Harriet turned to find Mrs. Gleeson, the vicar’s wife. A pleasant woman with a smile plastered upon her face seemed quite pleased to see her. “Your young one seems to be enjoying herself. Such a lovely child. Always so joyful.”

“She has been a delight,” Harriet said, turning back around. She watched her daughter’s blonde curls bounce around while she played with the other children, giggling and laughing. “We are fortunate to have such glorious weather for the festival.”

“It seems to grow larger every year,” Mrs. Gleeson agreed. “The festival serves well for the donations at the church. Why
, Vicar Gleeson says it will be a great year!”

“He well deserves the reward for all his hard work.”

“You are too kind,” Mrs. Gleeson said. Her face brightened with the compliment to her husband. She drew in a deep breath. “Such a glorious day! I love the beginning of spring. It holds such promise. Life springs anew, flowers bloom, trees burst forth with life. It gives us hope.”

Harriet smiled her agreement. How long ago did it seem to her there was no hope. She had lost the life she had known. Everything she thought defined her was no more. Then slowly the clouds lifted. She found life carried on with or without her. She began to live again. Though looking at her child, Harriet would have to acknowledge Victoria was the ray of sunlight in her world.

Carlisle had kept his promise and given her a life she would not have had otherwise. A life she could accept. Carlisle came once or twice a year to visit. He was there when Victoria was born and seemed greatly relieved that both Harriet and Victoria came through the ordeal. Victoria knew him as Uncle James and her 
uncle
 spoiled the little one greatly.

Carlisle never mentioned Arthur or his cousin. She never asked. She couldn’t allow Arthur to intrude upon her life in any form. Arthur was not part of Danbe Dale and the life she lived now.

Soaking up the warmth of the sun, Harriet glanced up to see Aunt Eleanor walking toward Victoria. Victoria screeched and ran up to the elderly lady. Taking her hand in hers, Victoria led Aunt Eleanor to the center of the green. Aunt Eleanor clapped her hands in playful delight as Victoria and her friends attempted to wrap the free ribbons around her aunt.

“I know well the pain you suffered losing your husband so, but it seems that God works in mysterious ways. You have been heaven
-sent to Mrs. Stuart.” Mrs. Gleeson reached over and patted Harriet’s hands.

“It is I
who has been fortunate, Mrs. Gleeson. I could never repay Aunt Eleanor’s kindness. To be truthful, I wasn’t so certain at the time whether this was the best course of action, but you are correct. I have become quite content,” Harriet said. Glancing to the side, she found they had company. A distinguished looking gentleman walked gingerly up to their side. Bowing his head with a tip of his hat, he acknowledged the ladies.

“Good day, Mrs. Gleeson
… Mrs. Whitmore.”

“Mr. Padgett,” Mrs. Gleeson said. “It is good to see you. I thought you in London.”

“It was a short trip only,” he responded. “I could not say I was disappointed to be back in time to enjoy the festivities. I came down with Theodore and his children, but they all seem to have disappeared into the activities, although Joel had me promise to participate in the sack race. I only hope I don’t humiliate myself in the process.”

“I’m sure you will not,” Harriet assured him. “I will personally stand and
cheer you on, if you like. I’m certain Victoria will be thoroughly disappointed if Joel does not win.”

Mr. Padgett laughed in response. “Thankfully it is not until later this afternoon. Have you had time to enjoy all the booths, Mrs. Whitmore?”

“I’m afraid I have not. I gave Miss Blake the day off to enjoy the festivities.” She glanced at Victoria. “I don’t think my daughter wants to leave at the present.”

“Oh, I’m quite capable of watching the child,” Mrs. Gleeson quickly offered. “Go. I’m certain Mrs. Stuart and I can well entertain Victoria.”

Harriet was quite certain Mrs. Gleeson had no issue in doing so. She had been quite blatant in her attempts to match make. Accepting Mr. Padgett’s arm, she said simply, “Thank you.”

Mr.
Benjamin Padgett seemed quite pleased. Harriet found she was herself. Over the last year, a friendship had formed. Not love. Harriet doubted she would ever love again, but she felt comfortable. More importantly, content.

A little more than a year
ago, Benjamin Padgett escaped the dredges of London after his wife’s death. His cousin, Theodore Nunes, invited him to visit him in Danbe Dale. He had not left, settling on the connecting estate to Bagden Manor.

Not a tall man, he stood only a few inches taller than Harriet, but he had a distinguished look with his gray
-streaked hair. A kind face but lines etched in his face betrayed the thirty-eight years he had lived. He was a gentle man who loved his late wife. A common factor they shared… losing one they loved.

“You look quite lovely this morning, Mrs. Whitmore, if I’m allowed to express my opinion without embarrassing you. The color in your face. The sparkle in your eyes. You have the look of one
who is quite enjoying herself. Can I hope that my appearance might have a little to do with your mood?”

She gently squeezed his arm. “You may, Mr. Padgett. I will confess I’m caught up in the excitement of the day. I have no worries. My child is enjoying herself in the midst of all the other children. Aunt Eleanor is in good health after the scare this last winter and you have returned sooner than I expected. How was London?”

“Busy and bustling. I could not wait to return home. Happily, I was able to settle my business quickly. I did not hesitate to depart, although my sister, bless her soul, wanted me to stay longer.”

He paused at one of the tables under the shade of an old oak tree. “Would you like refreshment? I have it on good authority from my cook that she has entered her fruit pie
, which I can attest is the best in these parts.”

“Tea would be most wonderful.”

Harriet sat across from Mr. Padgett, enjoying her tea and stealing a taste of his pie. He laughed.

“I say, I saw a fortune teller’s booth across the green. I hear it is a true gypsy with quite the ability to foresee the future,” he suggested after his last bite. “Would you like to go and get your fortune told?”

“No,” Harriet said abruptly… too abruptly.

“Of course, it is nonsense. I thought only it would be fun.”

“I suppose…” she stuttered, not knowing what to say. How silly it would sound to say that she had been cursed by a gypsy. It seemed a lifetime ago. Since her arrival at Bagden Manor, she hadn’t a vision.

Mr. Padgett rose and extended his hand to her. She hadn’t a choice. Swallowing her protest, she accepted with a hesitant smile. In his state of exuberance, he seemed not to notice her reluctance.

Waiting in line, Harriet exchanged pleasantries with her neighbors and friends in the bright sunshine. Harriet even forgot her hesitation. She felt silly for her distress when it was her turn in the booth. Her anxiety lifted on the sight—she had never seen the woman. She sat in front of an old gypsy and a clear crystal ball.

“Come, my dear, look into my crystal ball,” the gypsy urged. “Tell me what you see.”

Harriet tentatively looked over. She saw nothing.

“You need to come closer, my child,” the old woman said. Reaching across the table, she took Harriet’s hand and placed it upon the crystal ball. It happened.

Harriet looked up but could not speak. Suddenly, she was alone. The whole of the day had changed. The bright sky dissipated
, overcome by a darkening haze. No more was the common green crowded with merriment.

The sky grayed as a harsh wind blew over barren land. Then Harriet saw a beautiful woman standing in the midst of the desolate field. It was her
… Vadoma, the gypsy who had gifted her years ago. She was dressed as Harriet had seen before, in a white blouse and multi-colored layered skirt. Her long, dark hair flowed in the wind.

Vadoma stared at Harriet. Gradually, a smile emerged on her face. “It is time. You have fought against my gift for so long. Ah, you still don’t understand.”

Harriet shook her head, confused, so terribly confused.

“Listen true to my words. The shadow lies in wait.
 Behind the lies and betrayal, there are secrets. You need to discover the truth. If ever you want the peace you seek...the truth...Henrietta Burke. Danger and death surround you....I have given you the power. Trust it.

“You are afraid of what you don’t understand. There will come a time when you will have to trust the unknown. Face your fear. It is a gift I have given you. Accept what is yours...”

Then
, just as suddenly as her surroundings vanished, they appeared again. She sat across from the old gypsy, whose smile had not changed. Startled, Harriet jerked her hand back and stumbled out of the chair, out of the booth into the bright day.

Composing herself, she didn’t notice Mr. Padgett standing beside her, staring at her strangely.

"Are you well? You look as though you have seen a ghost."

“No, I am fine,” Harriet said. She still felt her heart beating rapidly. Calm. She had to calm herself. She glanced around the green. All was as it had been. “It was silly. She said I would meet a tall, dark, handsome stranger. Not quite original. It was only
… dark. It was so dark inside. I’m afraid of the dark.”

“You should have told me. I would have gone in with you,” Mr. Padgett said. He took her elbow and led her to a chair under the large shade tree. “I thought for a moment she said something to cause you worry. Some do take offense to those people. It’s said that gypsies aren’t to be trusted.”

“It was not that way at all. The woman…seemed quite nice,” Harriet assured him, thankful, though, she could sit. Her legs still trembled. “I believe she only wanted to make me happy. It is not her fault I do not do well in the dark.”

“Then I will think no more of it,” he declared. “It is too beautiful of a day. I would much rather convey my news to you.”

“News?”

“More of a confession, I fear. I had a purpose besides business for my trip to London. I made it a point to call upon Mr.
James Carlisle.”

“You saw
James? I would have not thought you would have had the opportunity, not with the Season ongoing.”

“Most times, I would not.” He paused and gave her a slight smile. “I realize I have not broached the subject with you, but had a desire to do things properly. You have told me that your father died years ago as well as your mother, but I needed to know
whether there was anyone else I should approach…

“
I hope you do not think me presumptuous. I believe we have had an understanding between us for a time now. Am I wrong to think that you would not be averse to the thought of a union between the two of us?”

She had not expected him to talk of such matters during the festival. She forgot the vision for a moment. Her full attention turned to the man across from her. Her eyes softened. She was touched. No, it was no
t the love she felt for Arthur, but she saw well she could be content with the life Benjamin offered to her. She pictured her daughter growing up in the comfort and warmth of a loving home. “I would not be averse at the possibility if it existed.”

“It is what I hoped,” he said, shuffling his position with a nervousness that Harriet had never seen. “There is an age difference, but it does not seem an obstacle. I would care for Victoria as she was my own…”

Harriet reached over and squeezed his hand to stop his ramblings. “I do believe we could be quite suited. Although I don’t know what you asked James… Mr. Carlisle… if this indeed is the path you want to endeavor.”