The Lightkeeper's Daughter (16 page)

“Candor is never misplaced, Miss Sullivan. Falsehood, on the other hand, is something I despise.”

“Falsehood? Surely you know me well enough by now to know I say what I think.”

“The problem is not what you say but what you
don’t
say.”

She studied his cold, dark eyes when he finally raised them. “You know,” she whispered. “I wanted to tell you right from the start, but Mr. Driscoll forbade me to say anything.”

“I heard you talking to him a few moments ago.”

She thought about that conversation. Nothing had been said about her identity. All he knew was that she had some purpose for being here, but she couldn’t endure his coldness. “You don’t know all of the story, but I want to tell you.”

“Will it be the truth?”

“Have I ever lied to you, Lieutenant?”

“Right now, I’m not really certain. I thought you were the clearest pool of honesty I’d ever peered into. I admit I’m most disappointed in you.”

She winced. “I’m exactly what you see. The only thing I haven’t revealed is my purpose in coming here.”

“I thought it was to teach Edward. Or is that a lie as well?”

“The moment I heard about Edward, I wanted to meet him,” she said. “He’s very important to me, and I loved him from the first.”

His eyes softened only a fraction at the mention his son’s name. “So what other purpose brought you here?”

“I want to discover my heritage.”

He frowned. “I don’t understand. How could coming here help you learn that?”

“I was born here. To Laura Eaton.” She waited until the light began to dawn in his eyes. “I believe I’m Julia Eaton.”

“That’s impossible! She drowned years ago.”

She pulled her locket out from under her dressing gown and opened it. “Then explain this.”

He leaned over and peered at the picture in the locket. His fingers grazed hers when he cradled the necklace in his hand. She shivered with the overpowering urge to touch his hair. If he didn’t move, she wouldn’t be able to resist. When he finally leaned back, she was able to breathe again.

“It’s Vera,” he said. “Where did you get it?”

“I think I must have been around five when my father gave it to me. When Mr. Driscoll showed up, my mother admitted it was around my neck when my father found me on the shore. I was about two.”

“Julia’s age when the shipwreck occurred.”

“Yes.” She willed him to believe her. “My mother showed me a metal box full of clippings my father had collected about the shipwreck. And someone paid my parents for my upkeep all these years. They were instructed not to turn me over to the authorities but to tell everyone I was their natural child. They were able to do that because my father had just taken the post at Battery Point a few days before the shipwreck. My mother hadn’t joined him yet but arrived a few days later.”

The coldness began to fade from his face. “You’re really Julia Eaton?” He rubbed his forehead. “Does Henry know?”

She rubbed the warm metal of her locket. “Not yet. Mr. Driscoll is searching for more conclusive evidence.”

“What role does Walter play in this?”

“A friend of his took a picture of me at the lighthouse, and he happened to see it. Something about my appearance made him think of my mother, so he came to see for himself. When he saw the locket, he knew for sure.”

“It might have washed ashore and had nothing to do with you. And your resemblance isn’t overt.”

She pushed her hair back from her face. “That’s why he’s searching for more proof. If he can find out who paid for my upkeep, he’ll go to Mr. Eaton then.”

“Why would someone want to keep you from your family?”

“That’s what we want to know.”

He reached over and took her hand. “The attacks on you and Walter might be related to this.”

The press of his fingers comforted her. “That’s what Mr. Driscoll fears. He’s hired an investigator, but the records of the attorney who paid the stipend were burned, and so far the attorney is not revealing his client.”

“Henry will want proof, though the locket will have an impact. Still, it’s not conclusive.”

“Perhaps I should tell Mr. Eaton anyway. If we all work together, we may discover the truth.”

“I’m not so sure,” he said. “Someone had a powerful reason to keep you away from him. What if that’s who attacked you and Walter?”

“If the truth comes out, that person won’t have any reason for another attack.”

“Or it might force him into a more desperate move.”

“Or her,” she said before she could stop the words.

“Her?”

“Mr. Driscoll suspects Mrs. Eaton.”

“I can’t see Clara involved in this.”

“Jealousy? She was in love with Mr. Eaton before he dropped her for her my mother.”

“I have heard that story,” he said slowly. He pushed his half-eaten bread away. “We should retire, Miss Sullivan. This will take mulling over.”

She rose when he did. When he avoided her gaze, she laid her hand on his arm. “Are you angry with me?”

“Maybe. When we drove past the property, you knew then all the plans I had for it would come to nothing, didn’t you?”

She willed him to see the truth in her eyes. “You can keep the land. Money isn’t the reason I came. Please don’t hate me for it. I couldn’t bear it.”

His warm fingers lifted her chin, and he stared into her face. “I fear I could never stay angry with you for long.” He brushed the back of his hand along her cheek, then stepped to the stairs.

S
IXTEEN

L
AST NIGHT’S LITTLE
tête-à-tête was the first thing Addie thought of when she awoke. They’d eaten their bread and she’d drunk her milk by the dim glow of the gaslight. How strange to think that a few weeks ago she didn’t even know John. Now he was all she could think about. The dear man had been understanding when she revealed her identity. She rubbed her eyes and yawned. She’d worked on Mrs. Eaton’s dress until after midnight every night.

A knock came at her door, and she leaped from the bed. “Yes?” she called, grabbing for her dressing gown.

“Miss?” Molly said from the other side of the door. “A telegram has come for you.”

Addie unlocked the door and opened it. Molly held out a silver tray with an envelope on the lace doily. Addie hesitated to pick it up.

“Miss?” Molly asked.

Addie collected herself and picked up the envelope. “Thank you, Molly. Is Edward awake?”

“Yes, miss. He has had his breakfast and is out back on the swing.”

“Alone? Or is his nurse with him?”

“She’s poorly this morning and stayed in bed. He wanted your dog to go, but Gideon refused to budge from your door.” She pointed to the dog lying on the floor in the hall.

“Oh dear, Gideon should have gone with him. I’ll be right there.” She thanked the maid and called Gideon to her. She gave him a quick pat, then hurried back into the room.

Selecting a white lace blouse and a black skirt, she quickly dressed. On her way down the back stairway, she tore open the envelope and scanned it. She froze on the middle step when she realized it was from Josephine.

Have taken position at Mercy Falls Lighthouse. Stop. Will be there today. Stop. Want to see you. Stop.

Addie’s first instinct was to rush to the lighthouse and embrace her mother, but she knew it would be fruitless. She’d tried to earn Josephine’s love for twenty-three years and had never succeeded. Still, what was behind the summons? She stuffed the note in her pocket and stepped into the warm kitchen with the dog on her heels. Oatmeal bubbled from a pot on the stove, and the scent of bacon hung in the air. Her stomach growled, but she didn’t have time for a real breakfast, not with Edward outside alone.

She stepped to the back door. “Go find Edward, Gideon.” After the dog glanced up at her, then slowly went out, she shut the door behind him.

“Breakfast?” the cook asked.

“Might I take a few pieces of bacon with me? I need to be caring for Edward.”

“But sure, let me get that for you.” The cook forked four pieces of bacon onto a thick slice of bread and put it on a plate.

Addie scooped off the sandwich and left the plate. She thanked the cook, then hurried into the backyard. Nibbling on her sandwich, she scanned the yard for the boy, but the swing hung empty. Maybe he was in the front yard. She hurried around the back. No Edward. She shouted for Gideon, and he came running back to her side.

Maybe Edward had gone back inside through the front door. She took the last bite of her sandwich, then stepped into the front hall. “Have you seen Edward?” she asked the butler.

“No, miss. Not since he went outside.”

She checked with the cook, and Edward hadn’t come in the back door. Trying not to panic, she went back to the front. Still no Edward.

John came down the steps. “Is something wrong?”

“I can’t find Edward.” Aware her voice was rising, she made a conscious effort to modulate her tone. “I checked outside, and all around the house. Is there anywhere else he might have gone?”

John reached her side. “There’s the falls. I’ve told him never to go there alone, though. And another pond that’s a little closer. Let’s try there first.” He held open the door for her, then hurried down the steps. “This way.”

She and Gideon followed John along a brick path through the large redwood trees. Trunks big enough to drive a buggy through reached for the sky on both sides of the path and blocked out the sun. Insects hummed around her ears, and she heard the sound of trickling water.

John strode ahead of her but paused long enough to point out their destination. “It’s in the grove ahead.”

As she quickened her steps, she prayed they’d find the boy happily skipping rocks. They broke through the towering trees into a clearing where water lilies floated on a clear pool. Wildflowers formed a blanket and perfumed the air.

“He’s not here,” John said, an edge to his voice. “How did he get outside without you or his nurse?”

“He went out before I was out of my room, and his nurse is ill,” she said evenly. “We need to instruct the servants not to allow him outside without supervision.”

“My fault,” he said. “I should already have done that. I didn’t take the attacks on you and Walter seriously enough.” He raised his voice. “Edward!”

Gideon bristled, and a low growl rumbled from his chest. “What is it, boy?” Addie placed a hand on his head.

His ruff stood at attention, and he focused on a patch of bushes on the far side of the pond. She saw the vegetation flutter.

“It’s probably just a deer or a squirrel,” John said. He shouted for his son again.

Gideon’s growl intensified. “I don’t think it’s an animal,” Addie whispered. “He’s not typically alarmed at animals.”

“Could Edward be playing hide-and-seek?”

The back of her neck prickled. “He wouldn’t growl at Edward.”

Gideon walked on stiff legs toward the thick vegetation. She and John followed. The green leaves went into violent movement. A man with Edward under his arm broke from the cover of shrubs. A muffled shriek came from Edward, who had a rag in his mouth.

“Get him!” Addie shouted to Gideon.

The dog broke into a run and reached the fleeing man in seconds. He leaped onto the back of the criminal and knocked him to the ground. Edward rolled away, and the dog jumped between the man and boy. Baring his teeth, Gideon stood guard over Edward.

John rushed toward his son and the would-be kidnapper, but before he reached them, the man leaped to his feet and vanished into the forest. John dropped to his son’s side and snatched the gag from Edward’s mouth as Addie reached them. She knelt beside them as Edward burst into noisy sobs and flung his arms around his father’s neck.

She exchanged a grim glance with John. None of this made sense to her.

The army of servants had been called together and questioned, but no one had seen anything. Though John had threatened to remove himself and his son back to San Francisco, he was reluctant to do so. If the kidnapper had penetrated the Eaton estate, how easily could he bridge the defenses of John’s house? He had only a housekeeper and cook to defend his son while he was at work. Both were middle-aged women. Though he could take Addie with him, he wasn’t sure if her arrival had plunged all of them into the fire with her.

What could Edward have to do with Addie’s true identity? There was no clear connection he could see.

Henry had called a family meeting in the drawing room. Beside him on the sofa, Clara dabbed her eyes with a hankie. Addie stood by the window to the formal garden. Driscoll was in the easy chair by the fireplace, and John dropped into the matching seat.

Henry took out a cigar and chewed on it. “I’m going to hire a Pinkerton agent to investigate this,” he announced. “They’ve a branch right here in Mercy Falls, and plenty of guards for hire.”

“I’d feel immensely better if they were here,” Clara said. “Abraham Lincoln employed Pinkerton’s for his own protection. Did you know that?”

“I’ll secure some guards to stand watch around the property,” Henry continued. “I intend to find out who dared touch my grandson.”