[Song of Alaska 02] - Morning's Refrain (15 page)

Minnie would like for you to meet her husband.”

“Perhaps before I leave we can arrange that.”

“Leave?” Jeannette looked aghast. “What are you talking about?

You just got here. Why would you leave again?”

“My home is in Sitka,” Evie replied. “I have no desire to remain here. Once I attend to selling the house and finalizing the business matters, I plan to return home.”

“But you can’t. You belong here. This is your home. Now that Thomas has gone—God rest his soul—there will be more opportunities for you. I know that Marston and Mitchell will never tolerate you leaving.”

Evie kept smiling. “They have nothing to say on the matter. At least nothing of significance to me. Now, tell me about Minnie’s wedding.” She knew that changing the subject to the glorious affair of her niece’s marriage to one of Kansas City’s finest families would persuade Jeannette to move on.

“Oh, it was like nothing you can imagine. I thought we had lovely weddings, but this was the event to top them all.” Jeannette rattled on about the guest list and the importance of each person invited. She was starting in on the flower arrangements when the butler announced the arrival of Marston and Mitchell. Apparently, they had come together.

Evie hadn’t realized how worried she’d been about seeing them again until this moment. Suddenly, she felt like a little girl—helpless and uncertain. This would never do. Her brothers could sense fear from miles away. They would pounce on her like an animal to its prey if she wasn’t careful.

“Brothers,” she said casually. “I see you have journeyed here together.”

They stopped abruptly to study her for a moment. Mitchell seemed quite surprised, while Marston narrowed his eyes as if studying a specimen under glass.

“You are a stunning beauty,” Mitchell declared. “You look exactly like our mother at your age.”

“Our mother didn’t live much past my age,” Evie replied.

“But nevertheless, you look remarkably like her portrait. You’ll have to see it for yourself. It hangs in Jeannette’s main sitting room at the family house.”

“I think she’s too thin,” Jeannette interjected.

Marston stepped forward. “You would,” he muttered, his gaze never leaving Evie.

She couldn’t help but wonder if he still held her a grudge. No doubt he would. He was, after all, a Gray man, incapable of forgiveness when betrayed. Not that she truly needed to be forgiven.

He reached out and took hold of her hands. Evie didn’t stop him. “You are quite lovely. You will turn many heads in Kansas City.” He pulled her forward to embrace her, then kissed her cheek. “I could have you remarried within the month.”

“She says she won’t be here that long,” Jeannette announced. She was clearly frustrated that Evie held all of the attention.

Marston stepped back and Mitchell came forward to follow his example. He kissed Evie lightly, then questioned her. “What is Jeannette talking about?”

Evie steadied her nerves. “I am not remaining in Kansas City. My home is in Alaska now, and I intend to return as soon as my business affairs are in order.”

“Unacceptable,” Marston said, shaking his head. “We need you here.”

“I see no reason to argue the point,” she countered. “I will not change my mind. Now, I have a bit of a surprise for you.”

“I’m not arguing any point,” Marston said, crossing his arms.

“You will stay. You’ve been gone long enough. You brought shame on this family, and by staying, you can erase a part of that. By marrying well, you can perhaps blot it completely.”

Evie laughed out loud, surprising them all. “You haven’t changed.

None of you, really. But I have. I’m not the mousy little girl who left here so long ago. I will not be intimidated by your threats or demands, so before you further embarrass yourselves, please take that into consideration.”

“I knew living with that woman would change you. Lydia has ruined you,” Jeannette said in a huff. She moved to a chair and took a seat as if the entire matter was exhausting her.

“You will not speak out against Lydia if you intend to share my table,” Evie said. She threw a look of warning at her brothers. “This is my house, and I make the rules.”

Marston laughed. “Jeannette is right. You have lived under a bad influence.”

“It sounds as if you are somewhat of an authority on bad influences.”

Evie turned around at Dalton’s comment. Her young brother strolled casually into the room. He came to her side, and immediately Evie felt stronger.

“Who is this?” Jeannette nearly shrieked.

No one said anything for several moments. Then Marston finally replied, “This is our little brother. Dalton Gray.”

“Dalton Lindquist,” he corrected.

Evie watched her sister’s mouth drop, while Mitchell stepped

around Marston to get a better look. She would have laughed out loud had the moment not been so intense.

“I thought it was about time we met,” Dalton said, his voice strong and solid.

Evie was glad Dalton didn’t appear the least bit intimidated by his brothers. She could see that he held their extreme interest— perhaps even their respect.

“I say the time is well overdue,” Marston replied. “You are more than welcome to take your rightful place in our family—the place your mother deprived you of all these years.”

Dalton stiffened and Evie put her hand on his arm in support. “I hardly feel deprived,” Dalton said, “but perhaps if she did keep me from my rightful place, it had more to do with the fact that you tried to have her murdered.”

Chapter 11

E
vie could sense Marston’s anger at the way Dalton had maneuvered the conversation to this undeniable confrontation. Evie knew her older brother was used to intimidating people— especially younger men. Funny it should be his own brother who broke the success of this habit.

Marston toyed with the cuff of his coat. “I’m sure you have had to endure many lies over the years.”

Evie knew Dalton felt that there had been too many secrets and lies in his family, but she also believed he would never admit to such a thing. To say as much to Marston would give him power that Dalton wouldn’t want him to have. She looked to her younger brother as he spoke.

“I know for a fact this one isn’t a lie.”

The smirk on Marston’s face suggested he was enjoying the exchange. “Oh, you do? I find that fascinating.”

“It’s time,” Evie interjected, “that we confront this matter and be honest.”

“Does this mean we won’t be having supper?” Jeannette asked.

“I’m afraid I’m beginning to feel rather weak.”

“I have no desire to keep you from eating,” Evie told her sister.

“Please feel free to go to the kitchen and get something.”

“Me? Go to the kitchen?” Jeannette appeared to be completely shocked by the idea. She fanned herself furiously.

“Otherwise, you can wait until we’ve finished,” Evie added.

She then turned to Marston. “I have a few things to say, and I intend for you all to hear them. You might as well be seated. This will take a few minutes.”

Dalton immediately extended his arm to her. As if by previous agreement, he led her to the two Italian throne chairs that graced the right side of the fireplace. He saw Evie situated comfortably and then took the chair beside her, as if they were king and queen holding court.

Mitchell and Marston exchanged a glance and took a seat on the large sofa. Marston studied the back of his hand for a moment, then glanced over to Evie. “Well, do get on with it.”

“You will not lie to Dalton about the past. I won’t have it. I have told him everything I know about the night you arranged to have Lydia killed. If you are uncomfortable with that, you have no one to blame but yourself.”

“Killed?” Jeannette gasped. They now had her full attention.

“Whatever are you suggesting?”

Marston didn’t even acknowledge her question. Instead, he stared directly at Evie and Dalton. “I’m sure you told him what you thought you knew.” Evie found the casualness of his tone quite annoying. How like him to respond this way.

“Why did you despise my mother so much?” Dalton asked. “It wasn’t like she wanted to marry our father. She was forced into that by my grandfather. She tried to make the best of the situation, but you showed her nothing but hatred.”

“This is the story your mother told you?” Marston asked.

Evie frowned. “You know it’s the truth; why try to say otherwise?” Marston fixed her with a hard look. “You were but a little child. What do you know about any of it?”

“I was old enough to know the truth of what happened to our mother,” Evie countered. “I was in the attic when Father came upstairs. I hid so that I wouldn’t get in trouble for being where I wasn’t supposed to be. He didn’t know I was there or he might have thrown me over the same railing as he did our mother.”

“That’s outrageous!” Jeannette declared. “How can you speak against our father that way? First you accuse Marston of trying to kill Lydia, and now this. It’s entirely uncalled for!”

Evie could see Marston knew she was telling the truth. Mitchell, although surprised by her bold statement, didn’t attempt to suggest she had been mistaken.

“Our father was an evil and heartless man,” Evie began. “You may not want to speak ill of the dead for whatever superstitious notions you have steeped yourself in, but I do not have that concern. Our father was a very bad man, and you know it even better than I.”

“You really don’t understand anything,” Marston said, his eyes narrowing. “Our father was a businessman, a man who went after what was important and fought his way to the top by doing whatever was required of him.”

“Even if that requirement was murder?” Evie asked. “Our mother brought him great wealth when they married. It was her money that gave him the foundations for the business ventures he pursued. She served her usefulness to him, and Father simply eliminated what was no longer needed.”

Her brother eased against the cushioned back and crossed his arms. “You are so sure of what you think you saw, but I believe you were just a terrified little girl, imagining that Father was involved because you couldn’t bear the fact that our mother had killed herself.”

“I was right there. I heard them talk. I saw Father lift her in his arms and throw her from the roof walk.”

“I am completely aghast that you should fabricate such a story,”

Jeannette said, shaking her head furiously. “If this were the case, why did you not speak out?”

Evie was ready for this. “I was afraid of being Father’s next victim. After all, if he’d known there was a witness to his act, do you really suppose he would have let the matter go unchallenged?

All this time, Dalton had remained silent, but at this point he reached over to pat Evie’s hand and spoke. “I see no reason for Evie to lie to us about this.”

“Just as you believe her incapable of lying about my trying to have your mother killed?” Marston questioned.

“Oh, there are records that show as much,” Dalton stated nonchalantly. “You hired two brothers, Anatolli and Ioann Sidorov, to kill my mother and bring me to you. They tried and failed, but only because my mother’s will to live was too strong. I want to know what you hoped to gain by such a heinous act.”

“I never wanted your mother killed,” Marston countered. “I wanted you to be protected from further harm. You weren’t in a proper environment, and I feared for your safety, just as I told the judge. I did nothing out of selfish ambition, as you suppose.”

“What of the fact that I stood to inherit a great deal of money and part of the family business? I suppose that had nothing to do with your motives.”

Marston gave him a sardonic smile. Evie had seen her brother take on this stance before. He was sizing up his adversary and preparing to deliver a deathblow.

“Your mother robbed us of our inheritance, or did she fail to tell you that? The complications of our father’s will were manipulated in such a way that she was able to steal a good portion of what he had worked so hard to gain. Knowing her to be capable of that, who could say what her ambitions might be as your mother? We genuinely feared for your safety.”

Evie watched Dalton as he considered what Marston had said, confident he wasn’t fooled. She suddenly realized that Dalton would be able to stand his own ground without any trouble. He was incredibly sensible and intelligent. He wouldn’t allow Marston so much as a foothold.

“So you are saying that our father was either too stupid or remiss to deal properly with his will and business arrangements, and this is somehow my mother’s fault.”

Mitchell leaned forward. “You have no right to speak in such a manner. You are still but a child, and you weren’t even born when our father was alive.”

“He’s right,” Jeannette said in a seething tone. “You weren’t even born. Why, we don’t even know for sure that you are our father’s child.”

Dalton grinned. “I would just as gladly not be. My father, for all intents and purposes, is Kjell Lindquist. The man has shown me nothing but love and purpose for my life. But that isn’t what I want to discuss at this point.” He looked back at Marston. “You managed to finagle out of any responsibility for what you did to my mother. There’s a part of me that would love to exact revenge on her behalf, but she doesn’t want that.”