Happily Never After (15 page)

“Around the time she died, Jackson came home.
It was a miracle and my heart broke for them because by then it was
too late. If only he had made it home a few months earlier, things
would have been so much different for all of us. He went to see her
but I don’t know what happened because two days later she died. It
destroyed Jackson. He left for the West and never came back.

“No matter how bad things were for her, they
must have taken a nasty turn after the visit from Jackson. Maybe
William caught her trying to leave. I’ll never fully understand
what happened to my daughter and maybe that’s why I’m stuck here,
to search for Catherine and beg for her forgiveness. We gave her to
that horrible man. We sent her to a life of hell. We killed
her.”

She was quiet for awhile and I was at a loss
for words. I knew how it hurt to lose someone you loved, but I
doubted our pain was similar. I had a million questions running
through my head but before I could ask any, Margaret continued.

“After Catherine’s death, William became even
more persistent. He’d wanted the house before but found
satisfaction by marrying Catherine instead. I figured he was a man
accustomed to having the best and not being denied. Once Catherine
was buried, he took up campaigning for the house again. His offers
and interest in the house became more and more outrageous. He was
not a sane man. The amount of money he offered would have been
indecent, even in your time. My husband didn’t take his increasing
threats seriously. I think he was too numb from Catherine’s
death.

“One day William came to the house. He was
belligerent and demanded that we give him what was rightfully his.
He felt that as the widower of a Roberts daughter, he should get
the house. He was convinced we burned him on the deal because his
wife died so soon. Clearly, he was mad.

“I don’t need to mention all that was said
but William and my husband began fighting and struggling. William
had his hands locked around James' throat and said he’d beat the
life out of him just as he had Catherine before he dumped her in
the river. I don’t remember much of what happened next. We were in
the front parlor and I was standing next to the fireplace. I picked
up the fire poker and struck him in the head. Even after he had
fallen, I kept hitting him until I couldn’t lift my arms again.

“My husband buried William out in the garden
and I don’t remember anything after that day. I died in a
sanatorium, surrounded by darkness and nightmares, haunted by the
memory of my daughter and what I did to her and Jennings. Catherine
is the spirit haunting this house. She wants revenge against her
family and you’re the last one. I’m afraid she wants to hurt you to
ensure our family name dies with you. All because of me.”

It took a few minutes for everything she said
to sink in. I felt scandalized by the fact she, of all people, had
murdered William in this house but it wasn’t as shocking as why
Catherine wanted to end my life. Somehow, realizing that didn’t
scare me as I thought it would. It was a relief to finally know
what and who, I was dealing with and why.

“I guessed most of that or at least sensed
it. The obvious question in all this is how do I stop it? Can she
be stopped?”

Margaret shook her head sadly. “I’m at a loss
as much as you. Right now, she has a willing host who she is able
to use freely. If she were simply a spirit as I am, she would not
have been able to assault you but having a human host gives her
power. She wants the life she was denied. Even more, she wants any
Roberts to suffer as much as she did.”

No matter what, I still wanted no harm to
come to Marietta but separating Catherine from Marietta’s body was
going to be impossible.

The silence dragged on. I really didn’t have
any clue what to say to Margaret. Under normal circumstances, I
would have had a million questions for her but right now, my
predicament felt overwhelming. It had been a long, weird day.

One question popped into my head and I asked,
“Is Jackson here, in this house? Is he the soldier I sense?”

She nodded. “He was destroyed after Catherine
died and I think those strong emotional ties to her and our family
are why he is here. He doesn’t talk much.”

“No, he doesn’t. He’s one of the more
mysterious spirits.”

“He is different than the young man I
remember.” Margaret stood and turned towards me. “However, I think
right now, we should concentrate on getting you to the dance. The
rest can be put on hold for one night.”

“How are we going to do that? I’m locked in
this room. Unless you have a pumpkin that will turn into a
carriage, I have no way of getting there.”

Confusion crossed her face and I almost
laughed.

“Pumpkins that turn into carriages? I have no
clue what you’re going on about but the door isn’t locked
anymore.”

I didn’t believe her so I jumped up and ran
down to the door. Sure enough, it door opened and nothing blocked
its way. I slowly walked back up to her.

“How did you do that?”

“It doesn’t matter. Now, from what I recall
we must find you an appropriate dress. I think I have just the
thing.”

She walked over to an armoire in the messy
part of the attic and opened it. I expected to see old, moth eaten
clothes but instead there were five gorgeous dresses hanging with
an assortment of undergarments.

I walked up behind her, immediately drawn to
a deep purple gown, trimmed in lace and pearls.

“I think this one is perfect,” Margaret said,
reaching in and pulling it out, along with a corset and a hoop
skirt. “We need all this if you’re going to have the right
effect.”

“How can you touch things?” I’d learned a lot
about spirits in the last couple of years and I knew it took a
tremendous amount of energy for her to do what she was doing.

“How can you believe in ghosts and not in
magic? It’s sad, sweetie. All girls and young women should believe
in the promise of magic.” Unsure how to respond, I turned my
attention back to the dress. “Maybe after tonight you will.”

Margaret handed me the clothes. Luckily, like
any good Southern girl, I knew how to put on the corset and hoop
skirt. She came up behind me and tightened the corset to an almost
uncomfortable state.

Before I pulled the dress on, Margaret
studied me closely. “We really should get rid of those awful purple
stripes in your hair.”

I flashed an embarrassed smile. “They are
extensions, I can take them out.”

She looked relieved. “Good and make sure you
curl your hair. I can pin it up when you’re done.”

Almost an hour later I was dressed and ready
to go. Most of my hair was piled on top of my head and I didn’t
recognize myself in the mirror.

I didn’t even resemble the poor girl who
lived in the attic. In this moment I was the lady of the house, one
who had opportunities and a full social calendar. The dark purple
satin of the dress accented my dark hair and with the makeup, my
face glowed. Thanks to the corset, my already small waist was tiny,
standing out in stark contrast to the wide hoop skirt. The corset
also did wonders for my chest, pushing up my cleavage high enough
to entice any man with a pulse. It made me blush which only made it
worse.

I couldn’t deny I looked like a Roberts,
though.

Margaret walked over and studied my
reflection.

“Beautiful. I have one more surprise for
you.” She held up a dainty gold necklace. The pendant was in the
shape of a teardrop. A dark purple stone surrounded by fancy gold
filigree detailing took up the center of the drop. “This was given
to me, when I was a young girl, on the eve of my wedding. I gave it
to Catherine on the eve of her wedding, hoping it would somehow
bring happiness to such a solemn day. William had it in his pocket
the day I killed him. It was meant to be an heirloom. Maybe now it
can be.”

She placed the exquisite piece around my neck
and fastened it. I don’t know how else to explain it - it belonged
there.

Tears pricked my eyes as I turned to
Margaret. “I can ever begin to thank you for this.”

She put an icy cold hand on my cheek. “You
don’t have to thank me. We’re family, darlin’. This is what we do
for each other. I wanted you to have a night to remember before you
faced whatever is coming with Catherine.”

I sniffed and nodded. “Have you dreamed up
any transportation for me?”

“Of course, it’s waiting outside.”

She walked me to the door and my breath
caught in my throat.

A horse drawn carriage sat out in the street
waiting for me.

“It’s perfect.” I kissed her cheek, vaguely
wondering in the back of my mind what the driver saw as I did
this.

Carefully, I walked down to the waiting
carriage, hoop skirt swaying side to side like a cloth church
bell.

“Good evening miss.” The burly driver took my
hand and helped me in.

“Thank you. Do you mind my asking how you
knew to be here?”

He gave me a strange look then pulled out a
cell phone. “This thing rang and I picked it up, followed the
directions.”

I nodded with a wry smirk. The spirit world
was full of surprises.

Chapter Twenty-One

The carriage pulled up in front of Savannah
Shores Resort and Golf Course and I officially started to get
nervous. The Mardi-gras type mask Margaret gave me felt heavy on my
face but I loved the idea of no one knowing who I was. It felt
safer.

After the driver helped me out, I walked to
the entrance trying to appear much more confident than I really
was. I handed my invitation to the lady at the door, another one of
Margaret’s mysteries, and followed the crowd of people inside.

It really was a sight to behold. I’d
literally stepped back in time.

Gleaming marble floors reflected the dancers
as well as a gold and crystal antique chandelier hanging over the
center of the room. All the French doors on the far side of the
room were open to the night, letting in the fragrant air.
Candlelight danced along the walls from brass sconces.

The women were all dressed similar to me,
true Southern belles, and the men were dashing as Confederate
soldiers or wearing a suit and tails. A small orchestra played from
the corner of the room and I saw an ice sculpture surrounded by
large white Magnolia blooms and punch bowls. Magic shimmered in the
air. Not the magic I witnessed with Margaret but the kind that made
dreams come true.

This was another world; one I'd dreamed of
being a part of and now I was.

As I walked farther into the room I got the
uncomfortable feeling that everyone was staring. Sure enough, when
I gazed around, I noticed many glances in my direction. Thankfully,
I looked nothing like Quinn Roberts or else I would’ve turned and
run away as fast as I could. I was fairly certain no one would
recognize me.

I kept an eye out for Marietta and the twins,
though. I didn’t want to test my theory of being unrecognizable
with them. More than anything, I wanted to find Jason.

About halfway into the crowded ballroom, I
saw him. He wasn’t wearing a mask but he looked dashing decked out
in a very authentic looking Confederate soldier uniform. The mere
sight of him made my palms sweat.

He raised his head and searched the crowd,
watching for someone in particular. Finally, his eyes met mine. I
knew he didn’t realize who I was so I lifted my hand and waved at
him. Jason’s eyebrows drew together in confusion as he crossed the
room towards me.

He stopped right in front of me. “I’m sorry,
do I know you?”

I smiled at him. “It’s starting to feel more
and more as if you might be the only one who truly does.”

A couple seconds later he broke into a huge
smile, picked me up and spun me around. “I knew you’d come, Quinn,”
he whispered in my ear.

“Honestly, I didn’t think I’d make it.”

“I sent a car for you.”

“Yeah, my stepmother and stepsisters took
that. I found my way, though.”

Jason set me down, took my hands in his and
gave me a thorough once over. “You’re so beautiful. I mean I love
the way you normally look, it suits you but this...this is
something.”

I blushed and broke eye contact with him. The
last thing I wanted to do tonight was act shy or awkward. Jason
would be leaving Savannah soon. I needed to throw caution to the
wind and finally take a chance on something. Tonight, anything felt
possible.

Looking him boldly in the eyes, I said, “It’s
so beautiful. I never went to prom, but I imagine it was like this.
Well, except for the belles and soldiers.”

Jason drew his brows together in concern.
“You never went to prom?”

“I didn’t have the easiest life in high
school. Who would have asked me?”

He touched my cheek. “Me. C’mon let me show
you off.”

I let him pull me along even as I protested.
“Jason, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. I don’t want anyone
to know who I am.”

He winked at me. “Who says they have to? No
one can tell with that mask on. What should your name be?”

Letting myself sink into the fantasy, I
pulled out the first name that came to mind. “Margaret.” It was
because of her I was here. I figured it was fair.

“Margaret it is.” He escorted me up to a tall
man with a full head of salt-and-pepper hair standing with a couple
of minor actors I recognized from movies and television.

I prayed I’d be able to pull this off.

“Stan, I’d like you to meet a true Southern
belle. This is Margaret.” Jason motioned to me and I smiled.
“Margaret, this is Stan Cooper the director.”

Stan returned the smile. He was a handsome
man with twinkling blue eyes. I felt at ease with him.

“Leave it to Jason to find a genuine belle in
this beautiful city.” He reached for my hand and grasped it in his.
“You are a vision.”