The Lightkeeper's Daughter (35 page)

“I’m sure he did,” Addie said, seeing her mother’s distress.

“He did at first. I believe that. But he grew to love my money more. He killed my father to get his hands on all of it.”

Addie gasped. So did John. Only Lord Carrington remained unmoved, and he’d surely heard this story before. Addie clung to John’s hand. This was going to be worse than she’d dreamed.

“I can tell them about it,” Lord Carrington said. “You don’t have to do this, Laura.”

“I want to.” Perspiration beaded her forehead. “Could I have some tea?”

“Of course, darling.” He sprang to his feet and went to the galley.

Addie swallowed down the massive lump forming in her throat. She wanted to bury her face in Gideon’s fur and cry. Even when her father was after them, she’d held on to a shred of hope that there was an explanation for what he’d done. To discover he had a soul as black as Satan himself left her fighting tears.

“I’m here,” John murmured against her hair. “We’ll get through this. Just rejoice that your mother is alive.”

Addie forced back her tears. “You’re right.”

“When did you find this out? That he’d killed your father?” John asked her mother. “Just before you left?”

She nodded. “He knew I’d discovered the truth.”

“How did he do it?” John asked.

“Poison. It looked like a heart attack, but I found the poison in Henry’s dresser before he disposed of it. When I accused him, he admitted it. He said he was tired of waiting for Father to die. He had a bad case of gout, and Henry claimed death would be a release. A release—from gout!”

“I’m so sorry,” Addie said. She didn’t remember her grandfather, but she could see her mother’s pain.

“There was some reason Henry needed money quickly. He’d asked Father and was refused. So Henry killed him.”

“And you fled,” John said. “With Julia.”

Her mother nodded. “He told me no one would believe me. That he’d put me in an insane asylum and I’d never see my daughter again. So I ran.”

“After you hid the clues. We found them,” Addie said.

“And you tracked me here?”

“We followed . . . Henry.” Addie didn’t want to call him Father. Not after what he’d done.

Lord Carrington returned with a cup of tea and toast. He offered it to her mother, who nibbled on the toast and took a sip of tea.

“Did you finish the story?” Lord Carrington asked, settling beside her.

She shook her head. “Not yet.” She set her tea on the table. “Henry boarded the same ship as Thomas and I, but we didn’t know it. He drugged me, and the next thing I knew, I was at the asylum. It was one he practically owned. I heard him warn them to keep me drugged at all times, because I’d killed my father and was extremely dangerous. That they shouldn’t trust what they thought was lucidity. They were happy to do whatever he said because of the money he’d given them over the years.”

“What about me?” Addie asked.

Her mother’s eyes held grief. “I told him I’d left you at my grandfather’s. I never dreamed he would sink the ship to cover my disappearance. I don’t know how you were saved.”

“I do,” Lord Carrington said. “I’d taken you to my room so your mother could get some sleep. The next morning she was gone. I couldn’t find your mother and feared Henry had thrown her overboard. A storm rolled in. I heard an explosion, then the captain yelled to get to the lifeboats. I overheard a crew member say it was a bomb.”

“An explosion?” Addie asked. She rubbed her head. “I remember a man carrying me on a burning ship, then throwing me into the sea. That was you?”

He nodded. “I actually threw you into a lifeboat. It sank, though, and you ended up in the sea.”

“Henry sank the steamer on purpose?” John asked.

Lord Carrington shrugged. “That’s what I’ve always believed.”

“But how did I end up at the lighthouse?” Addie asked.

“I’m coming to that.” He picked up the tea and put it back in her mother’s hand. “Drink, Laura. You must get something down. It will help fight the drug’s effects.”

She nodded and sipped at her tea, then took another bite of her toast.

“As I said, I ran to a lifeboat with you, but it was too full for both of us. I handed you over to a woman in the boat, then dived overboard. I thought I had a better chance of swimming on my own than going down with the ship.”

“And you made it,” she said.

“I did, but the lifeboat didn’t. The storm upended it. The waves tossed me onto the beach farther up the shore, and when I came to, I thought you’d been drowned with all the others. A couple of days later, I came back to this area to search and saw you on the lawn with the lightkeeper. You were giggling and fine.”

“So you said nothing?” she asked.

“I knew I couldn’t raise you myself. For one thing, I had no visa, so I’d be unable to adopt you. I’d hoped to catch up with your father as well, and a child would slow me down. I arranged for one of my lawyers to offer Roy Sullivan money to care for you.”

Addie’s head whirled. “It was you! So you knew all along where I was?”

He nodded. “I was quite dismayed to find you at Eaton Hall a few weeks ago. I knew it was only a matter of time before your father eliminated you. He would never let you live to take his money.”

Her chest constricted. “So you were trying to protect me for all these years. Why?”

He shrugged. “You should have been mine.”

“I wish you were my father,” she whispered. She turned and buried her face against John’s shoulder.

“What’s next?” John asked Carrington.

The three of them stood on the stern of the ship watching the dark sea. Addie’s mother had fallen asleep below.

John gestured to the water. “You realize Henry’s yacht is one of the fastest. I’m sure he’s chasing us.”

“We’re running with no lights, and it’s a big ocean,” Carrington said. “I hope to make Eureka and summon the police. We have Laura as a witness.”

“Will he say she’s insane and can’t testify?” Addie asked.

Carrington’s lips tightened. “He might, but the three of us know better.”

John expected a battle. Henry wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Addie gasped and put her hand to her mouth. “Josephine. The woman who raised me. Someone killed her. W-Was it Henry?”

He put his hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know, Addie, but it makes sense that he might have. Or, more likely, ordered it done. I doubt Henry would sully his own hands.”

“But what about the attack on Mr. Driscoll? And me? And the man who tried to take Edward? Are those incidents tied to Henry as well?”

She was trembling. John embraced her, his arm circling her waist. “I can see how he would think you and Driscoll were a threat, but Edward is his own grandson!”

“But he’s also the heir to everything.”

“Not while your mother lives. She is. And you after her.”

“And he knew she was alive. So Edward would be the one he would want to eliminate perhaps?”

He shook his head. “For what reason? Henry won’t live forever. Who would inherit if Edward were out of the picture?”

“Wait a minute,” she said slowly. “I found a blackmail note in Henry’s office right after I first came.”

“Blackmail? Any idea what someone might have against him?” Carrington asked.

“The note demanded ten thousand dollars or the blackmailer would tell the world about Henry’s child. At least I assumed it was Henry’s child. There was no one named in the note.”

“His child. Could that be you, Addie?” Carrington asked. “Who knew of your existence besides me?”

“No one that I know of,” she said. “We lived quietly in the lighthouse.” She paused, her brows gathering in a frown. “Oh wait. There was the solicitor you hired, Lord Carrington. But Uncle Walter was unable to find out anything from him.”

“I suppose it’s possible he told someone. An employee, perhaps, who deposited the money into Mr. Sullivan’s account.”

Addie stepped away from John’s side. She paced the deck. “So my father knew of my existence before I came to the manor?”

“I suspect that’s possible,” John said. “If so, when you arrived, he would understand he had to work fast. There could be only one reason you were there—you’d found out the truth.”

“And of course he would know of Driscoll’s involvement, as he was the one who brought you,” Carrington said.

Addie returned to John’s side. Gideon accompanied her. “But if I’m the child mentioned in the blackmail note, why would Edward be threatened? That piece still doesn’t make any sense.”

A splashing sound wafted over the water. John held up his hand. “Listen. I hear a boat. If that’s Eaton, we may have a chance to capture him and get him to the authorities. Then he can explain it all.”

An explosion battered his ears, and in reaction, he swung Addie behind him. Seconds later, something splashed in the waves off their starboard. “He’s firing on us!”

Addie peered past him. “How could he do such a thing?”

Carrington ran to the helm. “If he sinks us, he’s rid of everyone standing in his way.” He yelled down into the hold. “Start the engine!”

A few moments later a rumble started under John’s feet. The yacht picked up speed. It had been running silently on sails, but now that they’d been discovered, speed was all that mattered.

“Get below!” John yelled to Addie. “Your mother will need you.” When she ran for the salon with Gideon, he turned to Carrington. “Do you have guns?”

Carrington shook his head. “I’ve never had any need of something so barbaric.”

The yacht in pursuit fired on them again, and John realized it was getting closer. Why hadn’t he brought his pistol at least? He paced the deck.

“More speed!” Carrington shouted.

The rumble in the bowels of the ship grew, and a bit more distance opened between the two yachts. “Is that Mercy Falls?” John asked.

“Yes,” Carrington said. “If we can make it to town, he won’t dare do anything to us there.”

“You don’t know Henry,” John said. “He’ll twist this around and accuse us of something atrocious.” He strained to see through the gloom.

“I think we’re leaving him behind. When we reach shore, I’ll go to the constable, while you get the women to safety. We’ll meet back up when I’ve finished pressing charges.”

John shook his head. “Henry owns the town, and it was his influence that got the constable the position. I fear we’ll be hard-pressed to convince the constable to arrest him.”

“You might be right. We could press on to Eureka.”

“It might be best.”

Addie’s head rose from the opening to the hold. “What about a decoy?” She stepped onto the deck. “My mother is terrified. Mr. Eaton can’t be allowed near her. I want to take her to safety.”

John folded her in his arms. He could feel the shudders that seized her body. “What do you have in mind?”

She glanced at Lord Carrington. “We have the dinghy. Mercy Falls lighthouse is just ahead. Mama and I could hide out in the lighthouse. I can padlock the door from inside, and we can go up into the light tower until you come for us.”

“He’ll follow Carrington’s yacht.”

“Yes. You can lead him away and find help so Mama never has to see him again. Once the authorities have him in custody, I’ll unlock it.”

“I don’t like it,” John said. He held her close. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“We’ll be fine.”

“You could go with the women,” Carrington said.

“I’d rather do that,” John said.

Addie shook her head. “Lord Carrington, you need the strength of John’s word with yours. Henry is too influential a man for a foreigner such as yourself to challenge alone.”

John held her close. “I don’t trust your father,” he said.

She pulled back and gazed up at him. Her eyes were brilliant in the moonlight. “What could possibly go wrong? My father won’t have any idea we’re not on this boat.”

He couldn’t argue. The other yacht was distant enough that he could no longer hear the flap of its sails or the water on its hull. Eaton would never know a dinghy had left with the women.

“All right,” he said. “But I still don’t like it.”

Carrington ordered the dinghy prepared, and the men helped the women into it. Gideon leaped into the boat with them. The hollow spot in John’s chest grew as he watched it lowered into the sea.

T
HIRTY-SEVEN

A
DDIE’S MOTHER
increasingly lucid, but chills still racked her body. Addie rowed for shore with all her might. The oars in her hands were like long-lost friends. She put her back into the effort and steered the craft toward the light winking on and off on the spit of land to her northeast.

“Are you okay, Mama?” she asked.

“I’m so c-cold,” her mother whispered.

“You probably need more medicine,” Addie said.

She should have brought the laudanum. What had she been thinking to leave it behind? She rowed harder until the dinghy bumped against the sand in shallow water. She leaped from the boat and dragged the craft onto the rocky shore, then helped her mother.

“Let’s get you inside,” she said.

Wading through calf-high flowers, she half carried her mother up the steep incline to the house. Gideon ran on ahead. The lighthouse beacon drew her attention. Who had wound the light? She hadn’t stopped to wonder who was tending the light since Josephine’s death. No lights shone from the home, so maybe neighbors had stopped by to help out.