Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Elizabeth was escorted to the Fitzgerald drawing room where she waited for Amanda Fitzgerald.
It was a massive room, elegantly appointed without the oppressiveness of the Spencer mansion.
Toys were scattered about for the Fitzgeralds had several children.
She tapped her finger to her lips. Homey.
This was a home. Where family could laugh, tease and experience the joy of one another.
The more she observed, the sadder she became for what she wanted lay impossible.
She felt like she had swallowed yeast, and the loneliness inside was festering and had doubled in size.
Part of her wished she’d never met Zachary.
There would have been no need to want him.
No need for loving him. No need for crying over him.
No need for pain and tears and heartbreak.
Did his proper southern roots scorn women who had babies out of wedlock? No. She’d not go there.
How she had turned everything upside down, forward and backward.
Nothing made sense. There was something more and she was going to do her damnedest to get to the root of the problem.
Oh, he was attracted to her. She felt it in her bones.
What on earth held him back? Why did he always withdraw?
Why did he leave her in a constant state of turmoil?
She stared down at her palms as if to divine an answer. There was something more, and she was going to do her damnedest to get to the root of the problem.
Amanda Fitzgerald swooped in like a fresh summer wind.
A servant provided a tray of tea and scones and then departed. “I’m so happy you came to visit today, Elizabeth. Shawn is busy at the factory and, honestly, prying him away from that place is like wresting Heathcliff from the deathbed of the proverbial Catherine.”
“If I may ask, how did you meet? You were from the south–”
Amanda smiled, almost conspiratorial. “There was much intrigue involved. Shawn was an officer in the Union Army. He was kidnapped and held captive in Virginia by Irish thugs from New York. They starved and beat him unconscious. He was dressed in a Rebel uniform to be photographed and hanged.”
“Why photographed?”
“The Irish thug wanted control over Shawn’s sister, Catherine, and the Fitzgerald fortune by painting him as a traitor and shaming the family.”
“How did he get free?”
“My eight brothers came upon the tableau. All of them are sharpshooters. Some of the thugs met their fates, the rest scattered. In the melee, the horse under Shawn darted from beneath him. My brother shot the rope in two and Shawn hit his head on a rock. They brought him home with Shawn not having a clue who he was. I nursed him back to health, hoping he’d regain his memory.
During his convalescence, we fell in love,” she said wistfully in a soft Virginia drawl.
“I imagine it might have been difficult under the watchful eyes of eight brothers.”
“And then some. All of them, except one, returned to the war. He was born with a crippled leg and unable to enlist. Despite my brother’s all-seeing presence, a very serious romance blossomed.
The regretful part occurred with the swift return of Shawn’s memory and to discover he was a Union officer entrenched behind Confederate lines.
He had heard enough during his captivity with the thugs to know he had to return to save his sister, Catherine, from the Irish mob boss, Francis Mallory.
Shawn departed on a dangerous journey and made it to Union lines, yet the war separated us. ”
Over the brim of her teacup, Elizabeth gave a sideways smile. “Something tells me there is more to the story.”
Amanda blushed and dipped her head. “I discovered I was in the family way. I don’t know if my brothers were angrier about Shawn being a Yankee or getting their sister pregnant.
The war ended a few months later, and I thought another war would begin with all eight of them charging to New York to hang him.
Suddenly, a well-dressed man appeared on our porch, an attorney from New York hired to escort me to Mr. Fitzgerald.
Enraged, my brothers’ weighty and forceful response was to accompany me for a shotgun wedding.
The attorney had no choice in the matter.
“I was huge at six months when I landed on Shawn’s doorstep.
I looked up at a huge mansion. Did Shawn work here?
Was I to be hired as a maid? You see, Shawn never discussed anything about his wealth.
Dreadfully exhausted from traveling, I started to cry.
All I wanted to see was Shawn to make things right.
My brothers started shouting. How they were going to kill the Yankee bastard.
They raised their guns. The cook and kitchen staff came armed with knives and cleavers.
The household servants, including the butler, came running with brooms and dust-mops.
The hollering was deafening. No one knew what to do about the pandemonium.
“Then Shawn came through the door. My brothers caught him, ready to draw and quarter him. I ordered them to let him go. Shawn saw my condition, hugged me and begged my forgiveness for taking so long. I cried on his shoulder, telling him this was a nice house to be employed at. But how was I going to work as a maid with my gigantic abdomen? I also said we must apologize to the owner for our behavior. He laughed and swung me around. ‘You will never have to work a day in your life. This is to be our home for our family. I own it.’ We were married in less than an hour under the approving gazes of my brothers. Soon, I was ordered to complete bedrest. The doctor confirming I was to have twins. You couldn’t have seen a happier man than my husband. ”
“That’s a lovely story.” Elizabeth cleared her throat and then looked about the room. “I didn’t come here to have tea today.”
“I know,” Amanda said, sampling a buttery scone.
Elizabeth’s jaw dropped. “I’ve come on a personal matter.”
A five-year-old towheaded boy rushed into the room. “Mama, will you play checkers with me?”
“Later, Cade. I’m entertaining Miss Spencer. Please do not interrupt me.”
“I can’t find my shoes and nanny says if I don’t find them, I can’t have dessert.”
“It is an excuse to go barefoot.” Amanda waved her hand to an army of tin soldiers lined up on the floor for battle. “I told you to pick up your toys earlier.”
“I couldn’t because I couldn’t find my shoes.”
“You know exactly where you placed your shoes. Now march.”
“Nobody loves me, not even my mother.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake. You are the most spoiled of the bunch.”
“Who is Pete?”
“Quit delaying and close the door,” Amanda admonished, handing a cup of tea to Elizabeth. When her youngster departed, Amanda sighed. “If there was ever an award for the sorriest hang dog expression, that child would have it.”
Amanda was the feminine head of the Fitzgerald household, the hub which everything was surrounded by bestowing her love, firm gentleness and laughter. Suddenly, Elizabeth desired more than anything else in the world to have what Amanda possessed: children, a loving husband and a home.
Elizabeth took a deep sip and then placed her teacup in the saucer. “I have feelings for Zachary, but he is reluctant–”
“You are perfect for Zachary. I know the man will go far. He’s brilliant and hard working.”
“I know.”
Amanda rose and sat next to her. “What you don’t know is what has happened to him.”
“I know about the Comanche.”
Amanda clicked her tongue and held Elizabeth’s hands. “What happened to him was far worse than what the Comanche did to him.”
“What happened?”
“The ugliness and humiliation have turned him inside out. He trusts no one. He feels to start to get ahead, someone will pull him down. He assumes all people are unethical and only want to benefit themselves. God forbid those close to him ever show a shred of disloyalty.”
“Go on,” Elizabeth whispered.
“For Zachary, he cannot trust women. He was terribly hurt by one woman back in Missouri. But that is a story for Zachary to tell. The poor man feels better off to be alone than to be betrayed again.”
So that was the reason he was in Missouri. He was seeing a woman. She could well imagine what he’d do if he was ever deceived again. “But I would never betray him.”
“Perhaps you wouldn’t, but your family might interfere, considering him an inferior. You would have no choice. Knowing Zachary, he’d not take the risk of losing you, or coming between you and your family. That is why he cannot share himself with you.”
Amanda peered at her over the rim of her teacup. “I hear rumors you are to be wed to a duke.”
“I will never marry him.” Elizabeth grimaced, a rising bitter taste in her mouth. “I want you to know I’d do anything for Zachary.”
Amanda placed her teacup on the table and looked directly at her. “I know you would. I also know who gave him the anonymous money to get his company back on its feet.”
Elizabeth gaped under the older woman’s penetrating gaze. “You must never tell.”
“Oh, I won’t. The man’s nature is tied up in his pride.
He’d never take money from you. Lord no.
He’d be angrier than a hornet to discover you were his benefactor.
” She squeezed Elizabeth’s hands. “There will be a time you will need to confront Zachary and tell him your feelings. You will also need the strength to stand up to your family. You belong together.”
With her head held high Elizabeth walked down the steps of the Fitzgerald home, planning for obstacles and strategizing ways to overcome them.
Zachary posed the biggest stumbling block.
She must find a way to make him understand that they were one soul and that whatever door they came to, they’d open it together.
Fate more than mere coincidence had determined that consequence.
Hadn’t their initial meeting in Missouri, and then years later in New York, suggested some cosmic order, driving them forward along an unstoppable plan?
God had placed them on a path. Destiny had knocked.
Zachary didn’t realize it yet. No longer would she allow him to ignore unavoidable events, inevitabilities and mechanisms behind them.