Doves Migration (24 page)

Intuitively she knew that Tad’s strange behavior to her of late, and
Daniel yelling at this woman was related, yet she couldn’t put a connection
between them. Mystified, Miranda glanced at Margaret-Anne again, and
from the look of determination on the frightened woman’s face, it was clear
the servant did not intend to volunteer an explanation for what had just
happened. More confused than ever, Miranda slowly glanced at Felicity.
Seeing her friend shake her head disapprovingly, Miranda again resigned to
wait, but vowed to herself that before she left the Carmidy’s today her
questions would be answered.

Once the carriage pulled up in front of the house, much to Miranda’s
surprise, Margaret-Anne leapt from the carriage and dashed toward the
front door. Whispering to the stunned Miranda, Felicity said, “Why would
she run off like that when clearly she is no longer in danger? Don’t you
find all of this extremely peculiar?”

“Indeed I do. And by hook or crook, I will get to the bottom of these
queer goings on.” Ignoring, Felicity’s frown, Miranda went directly into
the Carmidy’s home to find the distraught servant removing her hat.

“Tend to your affairs Margaret-Anne and report directly back to the
parlor.”
Not waiting for a reply from the servant, knowing her way around the
home she and her father had lived in from time to time over the past three
years, Miranda went directly to the parlor. As Felicity walked through the
open door, Miranda motioned her into the parlor where they took a seat and
began whispering amongst themselves.
“I know you are upset, seeing Tad there and all. However, please keep
in mind that Maggie has already been badgered and manhandled once
today. Perhaps what she needs is another form of coaxing.”
Perturbed that her friend felt it necessary to point out the obvious and
hearing the servant’s footsteps returning she said, “My, but it is stuffy in
here with the curtains drawn and no air circulating.” Seeing Margaret-Anne
in the doorway, Miranda directed her attention to the servant. “Maggie,
dear, why are all the windows boarded up? Surely, it must be unbearable
for you to work inside all day with no fresh air.”
“Oh I don’t mind none, Miss Brown.”
Smiling sweetly back at her Miranda said, “Well in the future see to it
that some air circulates, dear. We wouldn’t want Joshua and Elise to return
to a musty dank home now would we?”
“No miss. With the cool air of the night, I find that opening the
windows then helps to keep the home cooler, but if you prefer I can do
both.”
“No. As long as you give the home a good airing out that should be
fine,” Miranda said while removing her hat.
“Maggie dear, I know you weren’t expecting any visitors this
afternoon, but would it be too much of a bother to ask for some
refreshments? Suddenly I find I’m parched,” Felicity said while smiling at
the servant.
Turning her attention to Miranda she asked, “Miss Brown, would you
be wanting to wet yer whistle too?”
“Why yes. Thank you Maggie,” Miranda replied. “A nice glass of
lemonade would be most welcoming.”
Without replying, the flushed and obviously upset woman turned and
went down a darkened hall. No longer able to hear the woman’s footsteps
and feeling reassured that they could not be overheard, Felicity leaned over
to Miranda. In a hushed whisper she said, “Not that I’m doubting her, but if
she opens the windows at night, then why when Benjamin and I drove past
here a few nights past, did the house look all boarded up?”
Shaking her head in agreement, Miranda whispered, “It was the same
when father and I drove home from visiting Michael and Sarah’s new home
the night before last.”
Hearing the servant’s footsteps, the two sat back in their chairs and
watched as Margaret-Anne entered the parlor and placed the tray on a table
between them. With trembling hands and seemingly more flushed than
before, she handed a glass of lemonade to Felicity.
“Perhaps you wouldn’t mind opening the curtains for us now, Maggie.
It really is most stifling in here.”
As the servant walked across the room and over to the windows,
Miranda quickly looked at Felicity who was trying to get her attention by
pointing to her drink. Frowning, trying to ascertain what it was that
troubled Felicity, Miranda discreetly shrugged her shoulders as if to tell her
friend she didn’t understand.
As the light filtered into the room when the heavy velvet curtains were
being opened, Miranda’s eyes immediately went to the tray. Glancing at the
pitcher filled with sliced lemons in the drink and a single glass, and not
seeing anything out of the ordinary, Miranda’s eyes trailed back toward
Felicity and discreetly shook her head, still not following. While MargaretAnne was busy opening the other set of curtains, Felicity mouthed back to
her, “No ice.”
Acknowledging her friend with a nod, Miranda’s mind began to race.
Why would no ice be significant?
Then as if a candle had been lit in a
darkened room, Miranda began seeing the connection. Recalling Daniel’s
menacing words, “Where is he?” She knew instinctively the
He
was
Gilbert.
But why would both Daniel and Tad want Gilbert
? Tad had
repeatedly reassured her that all was resolved between Gilbert and him, yet
after witnessing Mr. Hobbs threaten Maggie in broad daylight, she knew he
had been lying to her.
If he has been lying to me now, what else has he been
lying to me about?
Such thoughts distressed her and to hide just how upset she was,
Miranda rubbed her brow and closed her eyes, as if bothered by the sudden
light. Scolding herself for being so sensitive, Miranda took a deep breath
while pushing back her insecurities, determined to get to the truth once and
for all.
As Margaret-Anne approached, Miranda regaining full control of her
emotions obligingly said, “Oh that’s much better. Thank you Maggie.”
Seeing a faint smile cross the servant’s lips as she returned to pour more of
the beverage, Miranda frowned slightly while accepting it. “Oh dear, don’t
you have any ice?” she whined, in an exaggerated sigh.
“No, miss.”
“Why that surprises me, considering your brother Gilbert delivers ice
and all. Surely, you would think he would see to it that his sister was never
without.” Miranda looked at Felicity, in hope that her friend would
continue the conversation in this direction. “Don't you agree?”
“Why yes of course. I had nearly forgotten that Gilbert and Maggie are
brother and sister.”
Delighted that Felicity was following her lead, Miranda closely
watched Margaret-Anne’s every move. From her fidgeting and flushed
cheeks, it was clear the servant was becoming more distraught, especially
when speaking about her brother Gilbert.
Yes, indeed. This definitely had
something to do with Gilbert. But what?
No longer buying Tad’s
explanation of cheating at cards, or Gilbert’s interest in her, Miranda’s
mind began to race for a reasonable explanation. Thinking of none, she
knew more questions were needed about Gilbert.
“You know, now that I think of it, I haven’t seen him delivering ice at
the orphanage lately. Have you Miranda?” Felicity asked as if reading
Miranda’s thoughts.
Delighted that she was going to be able to question Margaret-Anne
further, Miranda continued the charade of cat and mouse and thought
pensively for a moment before replying.
“Why no. Now that you mention it, I haven’t.” Directing her attention
back to the servant, Miranda asked sweetly, “I trust your brother is well
and that everything is all right, Maggie?”
“Yes, quite well. Thank you, miss for asking.” Anxiously looking
between them, and obviously looking for a way to end their visit, Maggie
said, “Beggin’ your pardon, miladies, I have chores that really should be
attended too. So, I’ll be makin’ my leave.”
“Nonsense,” Felicity said. “As we said earlier, we have come here
today to see how you are getting along.” Pointing to the settee across from
her and Miranda, Felicity gestured for her to join them politely. “Come sit
and chat for a spell.” Seeing hesitation at her request, she quickly added, “I
insist.”
Obediently Maggie did as she was told, but sat at the edge of her seat
all the while nervously patting the front of her skirt. “That was very fine of
you both, but Mr. Honeycutt and his Missus drops by every now and then
to check up on me,” she said timidly.
“How thoughtful of them,” Miranda cooed. “And does your brother
drop by as well?” she asked raising her eyebrow, determined to direct the
conversation back to Gilbert.
“No, Miss,” Maggie answered in a low hushed tone looking down at
the carpet.
Feeling confident the servant was lying, recalling how her slaves had
always done the same when trying to cover up something they had done,
Miranda continued to bait her. “He doesn’t? Why that truly surprises me.
Surely, Mr. Honeycutt wouldn’t have objections to you having a visitor
from time to time. Shall I speak to him regarding this matter, Maggie?”
Hearing Mr. Honeycutt being brought into this, the servant quickly
glanced at Miranda and shook her head. “Oh I wish you wouldn’t miss. Mr.
Honeycutt never said I couldn’t have visitors.”
“Then why, pray tell, wouldn’t your own brother come to see you
then?” Miranda asked, raising her eyebrow. Pausing to give the woman
time to think, and seeing she was not going to answer her, Miranda leaned
forward and in a concerned voice asked, “Are you certain everything is
alright Maggie?”
In a soft tone, Felicity added, “You know Maggie, both Miss Brown
and I mean you no harm. We ask you these questions out of concern for
your welfare. Especially since we haven’t seen Gilbert for at least a
fortnight and now you are saying he doesn’t even come to check on his
own sister.”
Still Margaret-Anne refused to answer, so Miranda tried another tactic.
“Felicity, since Maggie doesn’t seem to trust us, perhaps what we should
do is take matters in our own hands. We both agree that something is amiss
here, yet I can’t for the life of me put my finger on it . . . Perhaps the wisest
thing to do is contact the authorities.”
Playing along with Miranda’s facade, Felicity said solemnly, “Well
perhaps you’re right. After all, we did witness Mr. Hobbs practically
assaulting our Maggie right there in Central Park. We can tell the
authorities that we heard him yelling, ‘Where is he?’ That is what you
heard isn’t it Miranda?”
“Why yes, of course. But if we go to the authorities, won’t that bring
more people questioning poor Maggie about her brother’s whereabouts?”
Turning her attention to Margaret-Anne, she whispered, “Maggie, we both
know Mr. Hobbs was looking for Gilbert. Do you really want more people
looking for him too?”
Being asked such a question obviously upset Maggie judging by the
color of her cheeks, which now matched her red hair. Avoiding eye contact,
she mumbled, “Miss, please, I really should be gettin’ back to my chores.”
Leaning closer to the distraught servant, Miranda gingerly held her
hand and patted it gingerly. “Alright Maggie, we won’t pressure you, or go
to the authorities just yet. But it’s very hard not to be concerned, especially
when we see how upset you are. How can we make you see that you can
trust us?”
Shaking her head from side to side, and pulling away from Miranda,
Maggie said, “There is nothing to talk about, miss.”
Before Miranda had the opportunity to further persuade the obviously
frightened woman to speak, a sound from the rear of the house alerted her
that the back door had just closed. Rather than react to the sound, or
acknowledge she had even heard it, Miranda looked at Margaret-Anne and
smiled sweetly.
“As you wish, Maggie. But please remember what I said earlier. Mrs.
Myles and I mean you no harm and if we can be of help, we will.” Turning
her attention to Felicity, Miranda added. “Well I really must get you back
to the orphanage if I’m to be on time for dinner at the Honeycutt’s.”
“Oh my, where has the time gone?” Felicity said, looking at her watch
pendent pinned to her collar. “Mrs. Honeycutt will never forgive me if I
detain you.”
Within moments, the two women made their hasty good-byes, aware
that Margaret-Anne was watching them intently as they made their way to
the carriage.
As soon as they reached the rig, Miranda sternly whispered to the
driver who stood beside the carriage door. “I know you saw who left
through the back door, Montgomery, so don’t you dare try to deny it. If you
value your position, you will follow him at once. Have I made myself
clear?”
The educated Negro driver had always intimidated Miranda from the
first moment she had met him years earlier, but never as he did now. His
dark eyes were cold and piercing and sent shivers up her spine, yet she
forced herself to show no fear, returning his icy glare.
“Montgomery, I’m warning you. Either you do precisely what I say or
you will be looking for a new position by sundown. Now you tell me,
what’s it going to be?” she asked, while turning to wave at Margaret-Anne
and praying silently that Montgomery would do as she asked.
Relief filled her as she heard the servant reply, “As you wish, miss. But
Mr. Honeycutt is not going to like this.”
Saying not a word, Felicity followed Miranda into the rig. Once they
were on their way, she whispered, “Are you sure this is wise? Before long
the sun will set and we won’t be able to see a thing.”
Shaking her head, Miranda said defiantly, “Nope. But how else are we
to get to the truth?” Turning to look along the street edge, she squinted
against the bright sun that was starting to set. Placing her hand above her
brow, she looked frantically from side to side hoping to see a man hiding in
the bushes.
“How did you know Montgomery had seen anything? And if he did,
how did you know it was a man?” Felicity asked, while looking also.
Nervously Miranda chuckled. “Well, in all the years I’ve known
Montgomery, never has he stood by the rig waiting. Normally he sits on the
buckboard. I just guessed he would have noticed something peculiar and
had stepped down to investigate. And I was right wasn’t I? As for a man, I
just figured it had to be Gilbert. As soon as I heard the door, it made sense
to me why Margaret-Anne was acting so strangely. He was probably
listening to our every word, and when we threatened notifying the
authorities he took off.”
“Yes, I tend to believe that was the case too. But why the urgency in
following him tonight? If we should find him, have you thought what
we’re supposed to do then? We still haven’t a clue as to why Tad and Mr.
Hobbs are after him.”
“I’m not sure . . .” Pausing to look at her surroundings, she directed her
attention to Montgomery. “Why are we heading back to Central Park?”
“You said to follow that gentlemen, didn’t you, miss?”
Squinting and looking straight ahead, Miranda couldn’t see anything.
“Where, Montgomery?” she whispered hoarsely to him. Without
responding, Montgomery began pulling softly on the reins and drew the rig
to the side of the road, just as they entered Central Park. Then stepping
down off the buckboard, he opened the door to the rig, and whispered,
“Miss, if I can see him, he can see you. Step out so I can latch up the
cover.”
Extending her hand so he could help her out of the carriage, Miranda
looked into the driver’s eyes and softly said, “Thank you, Montgomery.
Will you kindly tell me where he is precisely? I promise I’ll be discreet,”
she said reassuringly.