Doves Migration (13 page)

After the meal was finished, James met the two young lads and started
to head back home just as Felicity was leading the children out to the
courtyard for a brief recess before their afternoon session. Motioning to
Miranda, who instinctively knew what she meant and took the remaining
children outdoors, Felicity called to James, “Mr. Sterling . . .”

“Please Mrs. Myles, can we dispense with the formalities in the future,
of using our Christian names? I’ve known you for many years now and I
would hope you feel comfortable enough to at least consider me a friend.”

“Yes. Friends indeed.” Feeling rather peculiar and shy, Felicity forged
on. “James . . . Thank you again for all that you are doing to help us.”
Taking her hand again as he had at the wedding reception, he kissed it.

“It is entirely my pleasure, dear woman. Why, you’re trembling like a
kitten. Have I offended you?” As he watched her, he began enjoying the
little cat-and-mouse game he had conjured up in his mind.

Suddenly feeling uncomfortable by his familiarity and the look in his
eyes, Felicity withdrew her hand from his and quickly added, “You’ve not
offended me at all. It’s just that I have much to do this afternoon.”
Excusing herself, she politely added. “If you will please forgive me.”

“Of course. Will I be seeing you this evening at the Honeycutt’s,
Felicity?”
Hearing him address her by her first name, her back stiffened, but
feeling grateful for his help, she nodded. “Yes. I look forward to it.”
As soon as she agreed, Felicity regretted her words,
Now I suppose we
will have to attend this evening. Fiddlesticks!
“As do I.” His words were sincere, yet Felicity still felt uncomfortable
around him. Chastising herself for holding on to old misgivings about him
and deciding perhaps she had been wrong about his character, she walked
back to the courtyard where Miranda was still attending the children.
The thought of not having to care for the children for an evening and
being carefree enjoying adult conversation was appealing to her, even if it
were to be only for one night. Realizing her thoughts, Felicity felt
ashamed.
Stop this at once
, she scolded herself.
This is Benjamin’s
vocation and he loves his work. And as his wife you must too! Besides,
these poor children need you. Who else would care for them?
No matter how much she missed being alone with Benjamin as they
were in Washington, without the demands of running the orphanage, she
forced herself not to think of her own needs. She knowingly and willingly
had chosen this life to be with her Ben. And even though it was
burdensome at times, she knew she had been blessed by God to have the
love of such a fine man that she loved with all her heart. She only wished
that he could find fulfillment to serve God by preaching as he had in
England, without the demands of three-hundred children requiring so much
of their time and energy on a daily basis.
Entering the courtyard, she paused momentarily to look at the younger
children playing carefree in the courtyard. Without realizing it, she found
herself envying them. With so much on Benjamin’s mind, worrying where
the money was going to come from to care for all of them, she hadn’t seen
him truly relax since their return. Although he was always tender to her,
she knew he was consumed in worry, and by the time the two of them went
to bed at night they were too exhausted to share the closeness they once
had. Missing that time with her husband, she said a prayer.
Dear Lord,
please bring relief soon. Not just for the children, but for Benjamin and me
as well. I miss his smile and our intimacy with one another.
Seeing Felicity while watching the younger children run about,
Miranda called to her. “My, what a surprise Mr. Sterling was.”
Startled, Felicity said nonchalantly, “Yes he is. Isn’t he?” Still feeling
overburdened, yet not wanting her friend to see it, she smiled softly while
walking closer to her. Noticing the look of apprehension in Miranda’s eyes
for his motives, ashamed for her own uneasiness for his sudden generosity,
and not wanting to discuss it with her, Felicity quickly changed the subject.
“Never mind James. Tell me more of that handsome Mr. O’Flaherty.
What is it about that particular gentleman that seems to annoy you so?”
Noting Felicity had called James by his Christian name, never hearing
her refer to him that way in the past and realizing her friend obviously
didn’t want to discuss the Sterlings, she answered her question. Chuckling
merrily Miranda said, “First off, he is no gentleman! Secondly, that is what
troubles me the most. How could someone with so little manners, intrigue
me so?”
“Ah, so you admit you are still thinking about him. I thought so.”
“As much as I hate to admit it. Yes. There is something about those sad
green eyes of his that I am drawn to. There is something seriously wrong
with me. A very available and most suitable gentleman, refined, educated,
from a well-respected family like Thaddeus Honeycutt showers me with
attention and I push him away. Yet, a man with such lack of regard for
social graces as Gilbert O’Flaherty has just displayed, fascinates me.”
“Ah, he now fascinates you, does he? Pray tell, in which way?”
As Miranda prattled on, Felicity soaked in the sheer joy of conversing
with someone her own age merrily without any demands on her or
consumed with worry. Grateful to have Miranda with her, especially today
when the strains of running the orphanage seemed greater than most,
Felicity smiled lovingly at her friend. Feeling lighthearted again, she
thought,
God does work in mysterious ways.

Temperatures soared on this unseasonably hot and muggy May evening
while a fire blazed in the Honeycutt’s hearth. The room was stifling--heavy
with the scent of burning wood--yet no one seemed to notice as they
chatted amongst themselves. From bits and pieces of the conversation
Miranda overheard, she knew Michael and her father were debating if it
was actually Booth who had been killed as reported.

“For God’s sakes Lucas, who the hell else would it be then, if not
Booth? Didn’t you read that among those who identified his corpse was a
Dr. John Frederick May? The same doctor who had recently removed a
tumor from his neck, and there was also his dentist who had pried open the
corpse’s mouth to identify the two fillings Booth had prior to the
assassination. Besides, what purpose would it serve the government to
portray such an elaborate hoax by falsifying who the corpse was?” From
her father’s anxious look, she knew it was more than the heat that was
causing his face to redden.

“All I said was, if it really was Booth, then why the need to weight the
poor son of a bitch and drop his remains in the Potomac?” Lucas
demanded.

“Hog wash!” Michael tooted. “You know that was never confirmed.
It’s just some hideous, ridiculous rumor, just like countless others
circulating. Come on Lucas, next, will you be joining in with Booth’s
followers that he wasn’t involved, when we both know that’s not true?
Hell, we were in Washington, we heard eyewitness accounts ourselves.”

Trying to block out the two men’s heated debate, never wanting to
think about that dreadful night again, Miranda gazed at the flames of the
burning log that was enclosed behind two glass doors. Mesmerized by the
reflection of the flickering blaze that danced across the panes of glass
which contained the log, Miranda’s attention was diverted by the sounds of
an occasional horse and buggy driving past the Honeycutt home.

The sound of hooves clicking upon the stone pavement combined with
the reverberation of splashing water from the recent downpour of rain
against the surface of the road felt soothing to her. Especially since she
hadn’t been able to get Gilbert O’Flaherty off her mind, or what Felicity
had said earlier about her being afraid to love someone
. Could it be that
she was incapable of loving a man?
Miranda asked herself repeatedly
.

Although she had flatly denied it earlier, she now wondered if it were
possible
.
Feeling flushed, she gingerly patted her neck with a lace
handkerchief, waiting anxiously for the arrival of Felicity and Benjamin. A
sudden laughter from Lavinia and Vivian caused her to turn her attention in
their direction. Pasting a superficial smile on her lips, she nodded politely
to them while she surveyed the room filled with the usual guests that
gathered nightly to share the day’s events with one another.

As she observed the Sterlings and Honeycutts from afar, Miranda was
amused that they thought her too shy to mingle, and seemed not the least
bit offended by her aloofness. Realizing Sarah was watching her, she
returned a warm smile, but feeling another set of eyes on her, Miranda
turned her head to avoid eye contact with Tad.

Noticing he was being detained by Michael, Miranda took the
opportunity to escape his attention and head for the gardens. The sudden
laughter from Lavinia and Mrs. Honeycutt rang out again, which had a
sinister quality to it, and Miranda glanced at them as they busily chattered
away like two magpies.
Hmm
. . .
I wonder what dastardly deed those two
are cooking up this time,
she thought
.

Judging by the watchful eye Lavinia had on James, Miranda assumed
he must be the next victim to one of their endless schemes. Trying to be as
discreet as possible, carefully holding onto both handles of the French
doors that led to the side gardens, Miranda opened the door slowly, holding
her breath as the door hinges squeaked.

Glancing back into the room to see if anyone else heard the door, she
nodded to James, who had paused for an instance to return her gesture,
quickly resuming his discussion with Alfred. Judging by the look on his
face, he seemed to be anxious.
My, this afternoon he was so pleasant . . .
how peculiar,
she thought, while hastily stepping into the garden and down
a path of cobblestones between the lush ferns and hostas, escaping before
Tad would see her.

After walking for several minutes, certain Felicity and Benjamin
should be there by then, she headed back to the house. Much to her
surprise, along the side fence leading back to the street, was Tad and
Gilbert conversing with one another.

What a small world,
she thought, while concealing herself behind a
large overgrown lilac bush, straining to make out what was being discussed
by the two of them. From her vantage point, she watched in fascination at
Gilbert who leaned over a hedge. Although she couldn’t make out what he
was saying, by the look on his face and by his demeanor, it was obvious he
was upset, while Tad remained poised with a smirk on his face.
What could
these two men possibly have in common?
She wished she could hear them.

Her heart quickened when she realized Gilbert was about to make his
way back to his ice cart. Without stopping to think, Miranda stepped out
from behind the bush, and said, “Good evening Mr. O’Flaherty. Still busy
working, I see.”

“Why Miranda, there you are,” called Tad clearly surprised at seeing
her. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. How is it you know someone
like O’Flaherty here?” he asked suspiciously.

Politely she answered Tad, but her eyes were on Gilbert, hoping he
would acknowledge her greeting. “We met while I was helping out at the
orphanage today.”

This time, the angry man had a reply, and by the look of resentment on
his face, Miranda braced herself for his wrath.
“Some of us
work
from sunup to sundown, not like those with money
who were born with a silver spoon in their mouth, and
help
out.”
Angered and hurt by such a spiteful comment, Miranda felt the blood
rush to her cheeks, while Tad retaliated with a snide comment of his own.
“O’Flaherty, watch your tongue when addressing a lady. Didn’t your
mother ever teach you any manners? And you wonder why manual labor is
for the likes of you ill-mannered thugs?” he exclaimed, a smirk on his face.
Finding Tad’s words incredibly rude and insensitive, Miranda spoke up
in Gilbert’s defense. “How unkind of you to say such a thing, Tad. Why
I’m sure Mr. O’Flaherty was merely pointing out that he works very hard.”
“That I do. And I don’t need the likes of you, or your kind, to do my
bidding for me. I got a tongue of me own,” Gilbert retorted indignantly.
From his reaction, Miranda knew she had hurt his pride and wished she
hadn’t said anything, while Gilbert continued. “I’m not one of them wee
children needin’ yer charity, lass. Kindly let me tend to me own affairs. Or
don’t you have anything better to do with your time than buttin’ yer nose in
where it don’t belong?”
Hurt pride or not, Miranda couldn’t believe how he had just insulted
her again and was ready to say something when Gilbert turned his attention
to Tad, his tone almost threatening.
“As fer you, leave me poor dead mother out of this, hear?”
Seeing the shocked look on Miranda’s face, while taking her by the
elbow to escort her back into the dinner party, Tad said, “Grandmother will
be ringing for dinner momentarily. Shall we go inside, my dear?”
“Dear?” Miranda whispered hoarsely.
Hearing her say “dear”, Gilbert shook his head in disgust, obviously
mistaking her question as a term of endearment and began to walk back to
his wagon, much to Miranda’s dismay. Completely outraged, not having a
chance to respond either to Gilbert’s rudeness or to Tad by addressing her
so familiar in public, she turned her anger on Tad, jerking free of his touch.
“How dare you refer to me as your ‘dear’? I’ve never given you any
cause to think of me in that manner.”
“You’re absolutely right. Forgive my insolence. However, it served its
purpose, now didn’t it? That low life won’t be bothering such a fine woman
as yourself again.”
“Mr. Honeycutt, I’ll have you know I am more than capable of
choosing whom I associate with in the future. I need no assistance from
you.” She snarled at him, her eyes reflecting the anger she felt.
“Miranda. . . .”
Interrupting him, she snapped, “Miss Brown, if you please!”
Smiling smugly, as if ignoring her comment he said, “I’ve angered
you, which was not my intent. As a guest in our home, I have a certain
obligation to assure your safety. Especially from a man that can’t be
trusted. The Irish are all alike--good-for-nothing drunks--that fight all day,
gamble all night, and think the world owes them something. If it were up to
me, along with half the nation, they would all be sent back from where they
came.”
“Is that right? Well, Mr. Honeycutt, I am indeed a guest in your
grandparents’
home that much is true; however, has it escaped you that
I’m also considered as undesirable by some of your smug friends? As a
matter of fact, as I recall, when I arrived here during the war, you yourself
made no attempt to hide your contempt for me, simply because of my
origin. So, should I assume then that you would prefer me to be sent home
as well?”
“The truth finally surfaces at last! You’re still angry with me because I
made comment of your family being slave owners, years ago. Surely after
all this time Miranda, you can’t be holding a grudge over my curiosity?”
“Angry? No. I even understand you being curious. As you recall, I told
you then, I too was curious coming to a Northerner’s home. However, your
prejudices against those different from one of your upper-class snobs, I
find particularly offensive. And so that we have no further misunderstandings, in the future, if you have an urge to make decisions for me, since
it’s viewed by your class that Southerners are dimwitted, unable to make
decisions wisely, and since I’m clearly a Southerner, kindly confine your
attentions to someone who wants them, and is worthy of all your so-called
superior knowledge. Now if you will excuse me, I’ll see if Mr. and Mrs.
Myles have arrived yet.”
Turning on her heels, not giving Tad a chance to respond, Miranda
rushed back to the house only to be angered further by Tad’s laughter.
Walking into the drawing room, she saw Felicity and Benjamin being
joined by James. Much to her amazement, Lavinia went to greet them as
well, gushing over Felicity and even welcoming Benjamin. From the
suspicious look on Felicity’s face, Miranda knew she wasn’t the only one
who wondered why the sudden change of heart from Mrs. Sterling. When
James greeted them both by asking, “I was wondering if you were going to
make it. Trouble at the school this afternoon?”
“Nothing we couldn’t handle. I do hope we didn’t detain anyone,”
Benjamin said. Accepting James’s hand, the two men shook a hearty
greeting. Then turning his attention to Felicity, James took her hand,
kissing it politely. “Hello, Felicity. How good to see you again. My, you
look tired this evening.”
Hearing him address her by her first name, Felicity politely responded
accordingly.
“Good to see you too, James. It was a long day, and now I look
forward to the company of adults, rather than children this evening.”
“Indeed! Well, we’ll try to make the evening enjoyable then. Won’t we,
my dear?” Lavinia’s smile faded, hearing the familiarity in the
conversation between the Myles’ and her husband. Glaring at Felicity, she
thought,
So now it’s James, is it? Why you little bitch.
Having little else to do but try to grin and bear this humiliation,
Lavinia said, “Why of course, darling. If you’ll excuse me.” Turning, she
went to the fireplace while Miranda, Sarah and Michael greeted the Myles’
as well.
Hearing them carry on about how lovely the wedding had been,
Lavinia felt sickened.
Get a hold of yourself, Lavinia!
She scolded herself,
Or you’ll come across as a scorned alley cat rather than a poor helpless
kitten.
Glancing back at Felicity, who seemed to enjoy all the attention she
was receiving, Lavinia shook her head.
Well, I’ll give the bitch this much.
She is a master at appearing sweet.
Trying to regain her composure, painting on a smile for the Myles’
benefit, Lavinia turned and faced the fireplace. Upon doing so, out peeked
Alfred leaning away from where he was sitting, nestled in the high back
Queen Anne chair.
“Why Mr. Honeycutt, I had no idea you were over here,” Lavinia
cooed, trying not to sound surprised.
“Every now and then, I enjoy a good crackling fire. The flames are
mesmerizing. Don’t you agree? The mystery of the fire so vibrant and
alive, until it nearly consumes the log then dwindles away loosing its luster
and power with nothing left but a non-menacing spark every now and then.
Look there . . .” Alfred paused, gesturing at a small withering spark. “The
flame trying to regain its strength but never quite achieves its youthful
splendor. Ever notice that, my dear?” Alfred asked, while gazing at what
was left of the fire with a smug look on his face.
Why you old coot . . .
Instantly she knew he could see through her and
felt suddenly sick to her stomach.
Dear God, was she so transparent that
she couldn’t even fool an old man any more?
Deciding she would not be intimidated by him, she played along with
his little game. “Yes, but the fire does devour the log eventually.”
Alfred shrewdly turned to look at her again, his eyebrows arched.
“Only if it goes undetected, or the log wishes to be consumed. I like to
think that someone can always douse the flame with a little water if need
be.”
Standing, he took a glass of water from a side table next to the chair
then poured it dramatically over the flame with a snide grin. Turning to her,
he said, “See, the fire is out. The wood is no longer threatened by the
flame.”
In absolute shock, Lavinia’s eyes drifted from the gray smoke to her
host.
Politely, Alfred asked, “Are you ill, Mrs. Sterling? All of a sudden you
look pale. Shall I ring for a bit of
brandy
? I understand a little of its nectar
works wonders for what ails you.” Alfred smiled wickedly at her as more
smoke from the fire filled the air.
Dear God, James told him everything! How could he . . .
Finding her
voice, Lavinia said, “No, that won’t be necessary.”
Not waiting for a response, Lavinia turned on her heels.
Why, that no
good bastard is going to ruin everything!
Tad, who had the misfortune of being detained by his grandmother,
looked grateful for the distraction, as Lavinia approached. “Oh my,
Lavinia, you’re so flushed. Has that husband of mine kept you by that fire
of his too long? He has such a fascination with them, even in this
God-forsaken heat . . .” Vivian prattled.
“It is rather warm this evening. We never had this type of heat back in
England.” Lavinia mumbled, still in shock. “I’m just a little parched-nothing that a cool glass of water won’t cure,” Lavinia cordially answered,
trying to regain her composure as Vivian Honeycutt watched her grandson
Tad join Miranda.
Gesturing in their direction she muttered, “Why must that girl
constantly push my dear grandson away like that? The thought has
occurred to me that it may serve someone’s interest to persuade Miranda
into having a change of heart.”
“Funny you should bring that matter up. I was just thinking how the
two of them are suited for one another.” Disliking Tad Honeycutt from the
beginning, viewing him as a weak man, sure to make someone miserable,
Lavinia looked at Miranda and smiled coyly.
“Vivian, your grandson is exactly what that woman deserves. Perhaps
if someone like myself were to help a budding romance along, then
perhaps someone like yourself would be willing to return the favor.”
“Splendid idea. Now what is it that you need from me, my dear?” As
the two of them put their heads together to advance their own desires, Tad
spoke softly behind Miranda.
“Do you intend to stay annoyed with me all evening?” Tad whispered,
coming up behind the unsuspecting Miranda, who immediately turned and
peered up at him. Realizing that everyone’s attention, including that of her
father’s was now on them, she politely excused herself and Tad to the side,
far enough away as to not be overheard.
With a pasted smile to her lips, she whispered, “Tad, I find it extremely
ill-mannered, even contemptible, that you find it necessary to further
agitate me by bringing up the incident in the gardens. Clearly, you must
know that such behavior will only make matters worse.” Since she had his
undivided attention and her anger wasn’t satisfied, she added. “Solely for
the purpose of not being misunderstood, let me make myself perfectly
clear. I am not angry, nor annoyed with you. I just believe firmly that our
differences are far too vast to ever expect anything more between us, than
that of an acquaintance. Therefore, for the sake of risking an unpleasant
evening, I would prefer you drop the entire incident.”
“Only if you promise me one thing.”
Trying very hard not to appear angry, although she was livid, Miranda
took a deep breath and asked, “What is that?”
“Let me make it up to you by taking you to the theatre next week?”
“The theatre? Why on earth would I go to the theatre with you?” she
answered sharply, her resentment unmasked. Realizing her tone was
extremely rude, she quickly added. “Tad, I’m very sorry. What an unkind
thing for me to have said. No matter how annoyed I am with you, I had no
right to be so rude.”
“Ah ha! By your own admission you are annoyed with me, after all?”
he said smiling at her.
As hard as it was for Miranda to admit it, Tad did know how to be
charming and she couldn’t help but smile.
“Perhaps just a little.”
“Well then, please, let me make it up to you. Come with me to the
theatre and dine out for an evening, rather than sit here night after night
listening to the same old rubbish.”
An evening out did sound delightful
, Miranda thought, gazing up at
him, suddenly aware that he looked exceptionally handsome tonight.
“I’ll think on it and let you know after dinner,” she whispered.
Nodding, Tad’s smile faded as he gazed lovingly at her and cupped her
elbow in the palm of his hand. “Miranda, truly I am sorry.”
The sincerity in his voice startled her, as she looked into his eyes that
reminded her of the sea. As their eyes met, her heart stirred and no longer
could she be angry with him.
Was it possible she had misjudged him?
Just then, Jerome announced dinner was being served. Still gingerly
holding onto her elbow, Tad whispered, “Shall we?”
Accepting his arm, Miranda and Tad followed Vivian and Alfred into
the dining room, rather than being accompanied in by her father which
normally took place when he was in town. A smile passed between Michael
and Lucas as they accompanied Sarah into the dining room, while Lavinia
glared at James, knowing any hope to continue the farce that he had
attacked her was futile.
Suddenly everything became clear to Lavinia.
If James had told Alfred,
which she was certain that he had, then could it be possible he had
confided in Benjamin too?
Recalling the sudden familiarity among the three of them sent chills
through her, as her mind raced.
Why you miserable bastard, gathering
sympathy were you?
Then another thought crossed her mind and she felt
nauseous.
Or, were you simply trying to be closer to that tart
?
Seeing a smile being exchanged between Felicity and James, she knew
instantly it was the latter. Remembering how he had been so keen on
hearing every detail of Benjamin and Felicity’s mudslide episode,
especially where Felicity was concerned, her stomach coiled.
Dear God, he
wasn’t aroused by my advancements, but rather he lusted for her.