Chapter Eighteen
Haven Point, Maine
ANNA
The morning after Julia’s daring, reckless escape dawned crisp and bright. The few clouds in the sky were perfectly defined, as if they had been pasted onto the bright blue sky.
Elizabeth and Anna sat in wicker chairs on the south porch, looking out at the bay, but the lovely view was doing little to dissipate the ominous feeling that had been dogging Anna.
Before Lillian left for Portland yesterday, Anna sensed she had something up her sleeve.
Clarissa had written, and after Lillian read the letter, Anna detected a subtle shift in her expression, from its usual impatient sourness to something resembling satisfaction.
This would be welcome in someone with less malevolent motivations, but it was not what one wished to see on Lillian’s face.
Anna, preoccupied first with her own misery about Mr. Lockwood and then by the terrible apprehension about Julia, had pushed it from her mind until Lillian returned from Portland an hour ago with a malicious gleam in her eye.
When Anna finally heard Lillian’s heavy footsteps in the living room, heading in their direction, she felt her heartbeat accelerate.
Lillian emerged on the porch and stood before them, her shoulders tight, her head jutting forward slightly, like a cat about to pounce.
“I am glad you are both here because I have come across some deeply disturbing information.” She turned to Anna. “I will begin with what I learned most recently, which involves you. I will ask you a question, and I demand an honest answer.”
Anna detected a glint of triumph in Lillian’s eyes, and a bubble of anxiety formed in her chest. Not trusting her voice, she merely tilted her head and raised her brows. Well, out with it, then.
“Are you the author of that infernal book Liberty Island?”
The bubble burst, and regret spread through Anna’s bloodstream like poison. She had never been a good liar, and she knew she would likely give herself away. Yet somewhere in the mix of chemicals coursing through her veins, she located one potentially helpful emotion: anger.
“What gave you that notion?” she replied coldly, though she knew the answer probably lay in the telegram on the hall table that had been waiting for Lillian when she returned.
“I learned it from Judith’s sister-in-law, Mrs. Howland,” Lillian said, confirming Anna’s suspicion.
“Furthermore, William got his hands on a copy and noticed similarities between what the girls in the book do and what Julia and her friends have been up to under your supervision on that island. Positively feral!”
Anna felt she had little to lose at this point. “If the book is so harmful, I wonder that you did not tear it from William’s hands.”
Lillian’s face reddened. “You know as well as I do that girls are uniquely vulnerable to certain themes in literature,” she spat. “Judith has already raised the alarm about this book, and for good reason. It is pernicious in every conceivable way. Now, I demand an answer.”
Anna knew the residual heat in her face was telling on her, but unwilling to give Lillian the satisfaction of an answer, she rolled her eyes instead.
“I cannot say I’m surprised that you refuse to be forthright.
You have showed yourself to be extremely underhanded in your dealings with my granddaughter.
” Anna sensed Elizabeth stiffening next to her, but whether she was offended on Anna’s behalf or fearful of the truth of Lillian’s accusations, she could not say.
Now Lillian turned to Elizabeth, the malicious gleam back in her eyes. “As reprehensibly as your sister has behaved, it is nothing to what I learned about you.”
“Oh?” Elizabeth’s tone was clipped.
“That guttersnipe Julia has been fraternizing with is not just some orphan. She is the daughter of your former lover, a man who was, from all accounts, entirely unsuitable.
Louisa is Calvin’s daughter? Anna, stupefied, wondered briefly if she was not actually awake, but rather in the midst of a vivid and very unpleasant dream. Could this possibly be true?
“You have deceived my son in the most scandalous manner and have obviously consorted with this man since your marriage. And really, who knows if the child’s mother is actually that Murphy woman? I have held my tongue through Julia’s many transgressions, through all her outrageous behavior…”
When? Anna wanted to scream. When have you ever held your tongue?
“I remained silent because I did not wish to distress Jerome, but my hopes that you would heed my advice were obviously in vain. Given how little you have seen to her upbringing, I fear the child’s character might well be beyond redemption.”
She paused then, tilted her head, and looked at Elizabeth.
“I notice you have not spoken a word. Do you deny that this is the child of a man you once loved?”
“I do not.” Elizabeth’s tone was even, but Anna felt as if the world had tilted.
“Well, I am glad you are honest, at least,” Lillian said with a patronizing nod.
She continued with smug certainty, knowing she now held all the cards.
“Now we can speak about what will come next. Julia will go to Newport with me, of course, but arrangements must also be made for September. I would have preferred to wait until Julia was old enough to attend Sacré Coeur or one of the better convent schools in Paris, but I am sure Jerome will agree that there can be no delay in removing her from unwholesome influences. I will consult with Judith at the first opportunity about a school that will accept her immediately.”
Anna felt like her heart might break. She had never dreamed that Lillian would have this kind of leverage. Jerome was hardly likely to disagree with his mother’s edicts once he discovered the secrets his wife had been keeping.
Would Elizabeth’s marriage even survive? Ordinarily, the Demarests would not countenance a divorce, but suppose it freed Jerome to marry Judith? Either way, Anna was glad that Liberty Island was selling so well. At a minimum, her own tenancy in their home was certain to come to an end.
Throughout the diatribe, Elizabeth had sat still and silent. When it ended, she straightened.
“Are you quite finished, Lillian?” She spoke slowly, enunciating each word, as if she was only barely containing her temper.
“I am.” Lillian’s chin was up, but she seemed to be faltering slightly. She obviously had expected Elizabeth’s total submission and seemed as surprised as Anna by her defiant posture.
Elizabeth gestured toward the chair opposite. “You have said a great many things. I will ask you to please sit, as I now have a few things to say to you.”
Lillian hesitated before finally lowering herself into the chair with an exaggerated sigh. “All right, Elizabeth, I will hear your excuses.”
“Thank you, Lillian.” Elizabeth smiled falsely.
“You are correct. Louisa Murphy is indeed the daughter of Calvin Stannarius, whom I—and indeed my entire family—once knew and loved.
Until a chance encounter with Mr. Stannarius in Portland on the eve of his death, I had not laid eyes on him since the day I met Jerome.
“I told Jerome about Mr. Stannarius many years ago, and when I learned of his death, I asked if we might find a way to help his child. He readily agreed, though he asked that I not mention my family’s relationship with Louisa’s father, as he thought it might invite unwelcome questions.
” Elizabeth smiled thinly and added, “Though I feel certain he never imagined they would come from his own mother.”
After a pause to let that sink in, Elizabeth continued.
“Louisa’s mother was a woman of great pride, but over the years, we helped the child in what small ways she would permit.
When Louisa’s mother died this spring and Eugenia indicated she would like to take her somewhere for her health, I asked Jerome if we might suggest Haven Point.
Again, he agreed, with the same stipulation.
You are welcome, of course, to say whatever you wish to your son regarding Louisa Murphy, but you will be telling him nothing he does not know. ”
Lillian huffed again, obviously flustered.
Elizabeth’s brow wrinkled in a charade of thought. “Though I suppose it might surprise him to learn that you were prepared to disclose information he wished to remain private, and in the process accused him of being a fool, his wife a deceitful liar, and his daughter irredeemably awful.”
Lillian sputtered, but Elizabeth put up a hand. “I have refrained from sharing with Jerome your countless criticisms of Julia over the years because I knew he would be displeased.”
Lillian interrupted. “The same reason I have refrained!”
“You misunderstand me, Lillian. Jerome would not be displeased with Julia.” Elizabeth’s tone was steady but firm. “He would be displeased with you. I have spared him the knowledge of your unrelenting censure of his beloved daughter because I did not wish to cause a rift between the two of you.”
Lillian interrupted again. “I believe you have spared him the knowledge of his daughter’s behavior.”
“You may say whatever you wish to Jerome. You should know, however, that he will not react kindly to the suggestion that he does not know his own child. He loves Julia as she is. You might consider following his example. I suspect you would be happier.”
Lillian, not ready to accept that she had been bested, reverted to her earlier complaint. “I notice you have said nothing about this book of your sister’s, which she wrote in secret, and which directly insults me!”
Elizabeth shrugged. “I have not read this book. How, precisely, were you insulted?”
“A character in the book is clearly based on me, and the portrayal is defamatory.”
Elizabeth turned to look at Anna. Superficially, her expression was one of calm curiosity, but Anna saw something else in her sister’s eyes: No apologies. Give Lillian nothing.
Anna turned to Lillian. “To what character are you referring?” she asked, as innocently as she could manage.
“The aunt!”
Anna feigned confusion. “What similarities did you note that led you to believe she was based on you?”
This left Lillian in rather a bind. Aunt Phillipa in Liberty Island was Lillian’s physical opposite. To answer the question, Lillian would have to reveal the other ways she believed she resembled an extremely unlikable character.
“Oh, good heavens,” Lillian spat. “This is insupportable.”
“You have misread so many circumstances, Lillian, you might consider that you are misreading this, too,” Elizabeth said, now utterly in command. “I believe it would be best if we both pretended that this conversation did not occur. Do you agree?”
Lillian took a breath, lifted her chin, and summoned what remained of her own dignity.
“I apprehend that I was not in possession of all the facts.” She rose and added, “Of course I had no way to know how many secrets you and my son were keeping from me. I will return to my room. I have delayed my rest long enough.”
If Anna could have cheered out loud, she would have.