Garden of the Moon (20 page)

“There’s nothing I can do?”

Sara turned to face her. “Yes, there is. You can be my friend, support me and try to understand that I
have
to do this.”

For a long moment, Julie said nothing, and Sara thought she would refuse her request. Then she stood, hugged Sara and then put her at arm’s length. “I’ll always be your friend, no matter what. I will support whatever decision you make, even if I don’t agree with it. And I will try my best to understand why you’re doing this.” She kissed Sara’s cheek. “Now, I’m going to bed. How about you?”

Smiling, Sara linked her arm in Julie’s and together they entered the house and climbed the stairs.

***

Maybe it was because of the talk with Julie and maybe it was because, no matter how much she denied it to herself, missing Jonathan had become a constant agony gripping her heart like a fist. Whichever it was, Sara knew that tonight she would go back to see him again.

When she reached her room, Sara took out Maddy’s diary, and settled in her chair by the window. She glanced out at the garden and inhaled deeply. The mixture of perfumes emanating from it brought a profound peace to her soul. Then, as she always did before going back in time, she cast a glance at the portrait over the mantel.

Jonathan was smiling. Not the smile the artist had portrayed, but the smile that was just for her…for Maddy. She smiled back, and then opened the diary to the last entry she’d read, June 21st. Then, taking a deep breath, she turned to the next page, but the date stopped her dead.

July 3, 1805
.

Sara turned the pages back and checked to make sure they hadn’t stuck together, but they hadn’t. Maddy had skipped three weeks of entries. Why? Until now she’d entered something every day for the past year. Why now had she not entered anything for so long?

Perhaps she’d explain in the entry. Sara leaned back and positioned the book so the light from the candle beside her fell on the pages. Unreasonable excitement flowed through Sara like syrup on a hot day. Unable to figure out where the sensation came from, but with anticipation growing inside her like rising bread in a warm kitchen, she began to read.

July 3, 1805

For a time, it seemed the days passed with all the speed of a tortoise. But now the time has passed quickly, too quickly, and the wedding is nearly upon us. I haven’t seen Jonathan and as a result, have not had the heart to write anything until now. His absence from my life is like a ball and chain around my heart.

But tonight that will change. For a few fleeting moments I will be with him. I’m wearing the blue dress that he likes so much and have brushed my hair until it glows. I’ve left it around my shoulders. Jonathan likes it that way so he can run his fingers through it.

As I write this, I am waiting for the rest of the people in the house to go to sleep. Once I’m sure, I will slip out to meet Jonathan in the grove of trees beyond the barn. He sent word that he has something very important to tell me, something that will make me very happy. I’m hoping that it will be that Katherine has come to her senses and broken their betrothal. But, in my soul, I have little hope of that happening. Had she released him from their betrothal, it would have been big news around the house and no one has said anything of the kind.

My heart is beating so hard, I fear it will burst right out of my chest. Just the thought of being in his arms again is wonderful. Whatever he has to tell me cannot be as important as being close to him again. I have missed him so much.

Yesterday, when we went to Brentwood to see The Bradford’s to finalize plans for the wedding, in which Katherine showed little or no interest in being a part of, I had expected to see Jonathan. However he wasn’t there. The disappointment was stifling. His father said Jonathan and gone to New Orleans the week before on business. The misery that had taken a hold on me from the news was almost paralyzing. I want to take advantage of every moment we still have. Once he’s married, I will no longer be able to make excuses to see him, to be alone with him.

But I must not dwell on what can’t be and what has passed. I must look forward to tonight. It has been hours, and I’m sure the house is asleep. It’s is time
…

The room began to spin and soon Sara was whirling through that familiar tunnel to Jonathan.

***

Maddy made her way through the thick grove of cottonwood trees. Her breathing came hard, partially due to the exertion of fighting her way through the trees and underbrush, but mostly due to the prospect of who waited for her at the end.

As she rounded a particularly large tree, something dragged her into the thickening shadows. A hand covered her mouth and stifled the scream that rose in her throat. Fear filled her to the exclusion of all other emotions. Had Katherine decided to abduct her? She struggled to get free.

“Shh, my love. It’s me.”

All struggle stop. She spun in his arms and then snuggled against his broad chest and loop her arms around his neck. “I missed you so much. I’d so hoped to see you yesterday.”

He set her back from him. She could barely see his face in the darkness, but she didn’t need to. Ever line, every wrinkle, every pore was written indelibly in her memory.

“I was in New Orleans making plans for us.”

She stared at him. “Us? I don’t understand. The wedding—”

Gently he stopped her words with fingers to her lips and then moved her to a fallen tree trunk and pulled down beside him. “Forget the wedding. There’s not going to be a marriage…at least none between Katherine and me.”

“Katherine called off the betrothal?” Her heartbeat raced with excitement.

“No. She’s still determined to go through with it.”

“Then how—” Again he stopped her words, but this time with his lips. Fiery sparks sang through her blood. She clung to him, absorbing the sweetness of his mouth on hers. Her heart beat triple time. She buried her fingers in his silky hair and held his mouth to hers.

But he pulled away and cupped her face in his hands. “I would love to go on kissing you for all eternity, but we have to make plans.” Once more he touched her lips briefly, and then dropped his hands to grasp hers. “When my grandfather died, he left me a fortune, but he also left me a shipping business. His manager in London runs the business. One of those ships is due to leave the Port of New Orleans soon, and we’re going to be on it, my love.”

“London? We’re going to London?” Sara held her breath. Could this be true? She and Jonathan together forever? “Am I dreaming?”

He scooped her back into his arms, crushing her against his chest. “No, my love. You aren’t dreaming. I’ve already made arrangements for not only our passage, but also for the captain to marry us aboard the ship. By the time we reach England, you’ll be my wife and no one can change that.”

Jonathan lowered his head and covered her lips with his. His mouth was warm and hungry and the intensity of the kiss would most certainly have been a shock to anyone seeing them. But Maddy didn’t care. She drank in his passion like a flower drinks in a spring rain. She’d waited so long to feel his touch and now, soon he would be hers, all hers.

She wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, unwilling to allow anything to separate them even for a second.

Then her surroundings began to spin out of control. As the spiraling tunnel sucked her in, Sara could hear the hissing laughter of a woman coming from deep in the garden.

Chapter 17

With a sudden jolt Sara was in her room at Harrogate. The details of the scene she’d just lived through ran rampant through her mind. Jonathan and Maddy had been planning to run away and get married. Obviously, since Jonathan had been killed, that had never happened. But why would Phillip kill Jonathan and prevent that? With Jonathan out of the way, that would have left the way clear for him to pursue Katherine.

Unless…Phillip hadn’t known about the elopement plan.

That had to be the answer. He would have assumed the wedding would take place as planned. Clarice did say he was blindly in love with Maddy’s sister. Killing Jonathan was the only way he could prevent losing the woman he loved. It’s just too bad Katherine never appreciated his love and devotion and that something that should have been so wonderful could have led to something so very tragic.

Sara couldn’t believe how many people Katherine had infected with her hatred for Maddy, how many lives she’d touched and destroyed, and how she continued to do so from the grave.

But Katherine wasn’t the only one inadvertently to blame for Jonathan’s death. Maddy had her own guilty cross to bear. If she hadn’t encouraged Jonathan, continued to show her love for him, continued to meet him, and continued to voice her hope that Katherine would relent and turn him free, he might not have gotten desperate enough to arrange the elopement. Then he wouldn’t have been in the garden with Maddy and Katherine wouldn’t have overheard the conversation that would eventually drive Phillip to commit murder in her name.

The more Sara found out about this twisted, doomed triangle, the more she felt the burden of Maddy’s guilt. Weighted down by this new bit of information, she made her way to her bed and without undressing, collapsed on it.

***

Sara awoke choking and coughing. She pushed herself up and through her watery gaze, was able to see that smoke filled her bedroom. Frozen in fear, Sara watched as the flames curled around three sides of her bed. Some reached up to ignite the lace canopy. Others licked up over the sides of the mattress as they consumed the eiderdown quilt.

Slowly, the flames crept around the bed and would soon cut off any means of escape. She had to get out of here before she was burned alive, but every time she tried, it felt as though something held her back. Again and again, as the flames came ever closer, she attempted to get out of bed. Again and again, she was held immobile.

The flames crept closer. The heat was almost unbearable. The stench of burning material filled her nostrils. She covered her mouth and nose with her hand to block the smoke. But it didn’t help. The acrid smoke continued to sear her throat and eyes. A spasm of coughing overcame her, and it felt as though her throat had been raked raw.

God help me, I’m going to die
!

Then through the flames she made eye contact with Jonathan’s portrait. Somehow, that gave her the strength to break free of whatever had held her down.

Panicked, she bolted from the bed, picked her way around the encroaching flames, and raced to the door screaming. “Fire! Fire! Wake up! My room is on fire!”

Running into the hall, she kept up the steady stream of warning cries to the rest of the house. Another coughing fit ripped from her throat, and she leaned against the wall to catch her breath and wipe the smoke induced tears from her eyes with the hem of her dress.

“Sara! Are you all right?” Julie came running at her from the other end of the hall, her nightgown flapping crazily around her legs. Behind her came Raina, Samuel and several other house slaves.

Unable to speak, Sara pointed at her room and squeaked out “Fire!”

Julie ran past her to look in the room. The others followed. For a moment, Julie stared into the room. Her face twisted in confusion. She turned back to Sara. “There’s no fire in your room, Sara. You must have been dreaming.”

“But there is,” Sara argued.

Summoning what was left of her strength, she pushed past Julie. Astonished, she gaped at the interior of her room. Julie was right. There had been no fire. Where flames had devoured the bed moments before, there was nothing more than a fluttering of the perfectly intact coverlet in the breeze blowing in through the open window. The clean, fresh air held no trace of the smell of smoke that had awakened her and filled her mouth and throat moments before.

“I don’t understand,” she mumbled, vaguely aware that her throat no longer hurt and her eyes no longer watered.

Julie slipped her arm around Sara’s shoulders. “You can all go back to bed,” she told the others who had gathered in the hall. With confusion in their expressions, they did as they were told, but not without a few backward glances at their mistress. “Come on. Let’s get you back to bed,” Julie told Sara, concern filling her voice. “It was a dream.”

Sara shook her head violently. “No! I saw the flames. I smelled the smoke. It was not a dream.” Was she going mad? No! She
had
seen the fire,
had
smelled the smoke. She grabbed Julie’s arms. “I swear the fire was real, as real as you are.” She tried to keep the fear out of her voice, but was unsuccessful.

Poor Julie just stared at her, her eyes full of all kind of emotions—doubt, worry, bewilderment, uncertainty—but not belief. Not that Sara blamed her. If the tables were turned, she wouldn’t have believed it either.

Flopping down on the side of the bed, Sara glanced around her, astounded that everything was intact. How could that be? Then she recalled the bloody words on the wall that had been there, and then gone. Was this fire another of Katherine’s ominous warnings?

***

As she dressed the next morning, Sara looked into her mirror. Reflected back at her was someone she barely recognized. The mirrored woman’s image could have been a stranger. Deep purple circles ringed her haunted green eyes. Her pallid complexion made her appear almost ghostly. Her chestnut hair hung dull and lank around her face.

This couldn’t go on. Before long she’d be sick again and that wouldn’t help her or Jonathan. But how could she stop Katherine from torturing her? One answer to that was to give up her love for Jonathan. The pain that shot through her heart at the very thought made it clear that that was not the answer she sought.

What then?

Perhaps if she got away from Harrogate for a while, cleared her head, regrouped…Suddenly, without explanation, Sara knew she must go to New Orleans and visit her parents for a few days. She had no idea why or how, but something told her that she would find answers there.