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Authors: Tracie Peterson

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BOOK: A Surrendered Heart
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Sorry?
If you know what is good for you, you will heed my words. In the future there will be severe consequences for such behavior. As I said, I will not tolerate being made the fool, and I will punish betrayal. If our wedding were not close at hand, I’d show you what punishment you can expect in the future. You can count yourself fortunate that I don’t want you marked up for our
blessed nuptials
.”

Her scalp throbbed with pain when he finally released her hair, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her massage her head. She thought he’d finished with her, but when she attempted to take a sideward step, he pushed her back.

“You will move when I tell you to move! Your life with me will be as I direct. The only decision you will make is to follow my instruction. You will not come or go without my approval, and you will see no one unless I’ve given my consent. On the other hand, you will likely hear the servants whisper about consorts who will visit my bedchamber from time to time. I tire of women easily, and I’m certain you’ll be no different than any other. You should prepare yourself to become accustomed to my habits.”

“Then why marry me?” The question slipped from her mouth before she’d given thought to his reaction.

He drew back his hand as if to slap her and then stopped only inches from her face. “You are slow to learn, aren’t you? I am the one who asks the questions.” A cruel smirk played on his lips. “However, this one time I shall answer you because you are a silly woman with naïve beliefs about men and women. My marriage to you is nothing more than a means of repaying your father for the cruelty he heaped upon me when I was a young man. I must admit there is the added benefit of causing other members of your family a great deal of pain.” He shrugged. “Besides, the marriage will require nothing of me. I will continue to live in the same fashion I’ve always enjoyed, but I shall have a pretty young wife on my arm and in my bed whenever I choose. And she’s a Broadmoor. All of society will bow at my feet for the chance to share such an auspicious connection.” He pinched her cheek until she was afraid it had turned bloodred. “I have told you how I enjoy inflicting pain, haven’t I?”

She didn’t know if she should answer, but when he arched his brows, she said, “Yes, you’ve told me several times.”

“Good. I’m pleased to see there’s something you remember. I can play whatever part I need to in order to accomplish what I desire. If you dare to tell anyone of this encounter, I will merely appear as gentle as a lamb, with such tenderness and concern for you that your friends and family will immediately believe you mad. You would do well to hone your own acting skills and portray in public the obedient and desirable little wife that I intend you to be.” He let her go, and Amanda immediately put her hand to her cheek.

“Don’t worry, it won’t bruise. But please remember this. Should you do anything more to betray me—should you mention this incident—should you so much as tell your father that you do not wish to be married, I will find a way to hurt you more deeply than you can possibly imagine. It wouldn’t be all that hard to create an accident for your dear Dr. Carstead.”

“No!” Amanda couldn’t even try to pretend his threat hadn’t hit her hard. “Don’t hurt him.”

He grinned at her coldly. “I see it must be true love for you to react in such a near hysterical manner. At least we both know now exactly how to keep you in line.”

Amanda didn’t respond. There was no need. Finding any hint of goodness in this man would be impossible. Life as she had known it would end on the nineteenth day of August.

Friday, July 28, 1899
Rochester, New York

Blake ignored the knock at his front door. He was unable to offer aid to anyone at the moment. Since his return to Rochester, he’d been rendered completely useless. Each day had been consumed with endless thoughts of how he could rescue Amanda from Ellert Jackson. He didn’t consider himself a poor man, yet he was far from wealthy. There was no way he could raise enough money to save Amanda. With only his small house and his medical instruments for collateral, any banker would laugh at a request for a sizable loan. His thoughts continued to race to and fro as the incessant knocking continued.

“Blake! Answer the door. It’s Paul Medford. I need to speak to you.”

“I can’t see any patients today.”

“I haven’t come about a patient. We need to talk. I’m willing to shout through the window, but I don’t think you want the entire neighborhood listening to our conversation, do you?”

Blake raked his fingers through his uncombed hair and plodded across the kitchen and through the parlor to the front hallway. Twisting the key, he unlocked the door and pulled it open. He met Paul’s startled expression. “Well, what is it that’s so important?”

“You look like death itself, Blake. Have you had any sleep or considered some hot water and a razor?”

Blake rubbed his palm across the stubble on his jaw. “Ever since my return from the island, I’ve been consumed with—”

“Helping Amanda. I told Quincy I assumed that was the case. But locking yourself in the house is not going to help. Quincy wants to speak with you. Perhaps the three of us can put our heads together and come up with an idea. Besides, you look like you could use a good meal.”

Blake took a backward step and shook his head. “I don’t want to be around anyone right now. I’m in no condition to lend aid to the sick. I can’t even help myself right now.”

“Please come with me, Blake. We don’t expect you to care for anyone. Just come and talk with us. You need some fresh air and a different perspective.” Paul clasped Blake’s shoulder and pulled him forward. “Come along. You’ll feel better. I promise.”

Blake considered shoving Paul out the door and retreating back into the kitchen, but he knew such an idea was foolhardy. He could see the determination in Paul’s eyes. The man would not be deterred. “I won’t stay long.”

Paul didn’t argue or say much of anything except to comment on the warm weather until they’d arrived at the Home and were settled in Quincy’s office. “It’s just as I thought. He’s dejected over Amanda’s approaching marriage.”

Quincy frowned. “You don’t look good, Blake. I know you love Amanda and had hoped to convince her to set aside her marriage plans, but you can’t permit her rejection to ruin your life. You have your work, and there are many eligible young ladies who would be delighted to have you as a suitor. Believe me, I know whereof I speak. Isn’t that true, Paul?”

Paul nodded his agreement. “He’s absolutely correct. Only yesterday Lila Harkness was asking about you. I believe she’s hoping that you’ll come calling.”

Blake massaged his forehead. What were these men thinking? “I don’t believe you understand my dilemma.”

“Of course we do, my boy.” Quincy patted his shoulder. “We’ve all gone through the ups and downs of love and rejection. If Amanda has decided she wants to marry Ellert Jackson, then you must determine to move forward with your own life. It’s simply the way of things.”

“But she didn’t reject me,” Blake said. Before either of the men could interrupt him again, he explained what had occurred when Amanda had come to Round Island. “We love each other, but her father is forcing her to marry Ellert in order to save himself from financial ruin.”

Mouth agape, Quincy sat up straight. “Jonas has bargained away his own daughter? How could he?”

“I’m sure you know him better than I do, but it seems that money and social status are the driving force behind his decision. I’ve tried to come up with a solution that would resolve this entire matter, but money is the only answer. And I don’t have access to enough money to be of assistance.”

Quincy hunched forward and rested his arms across his thighs. “I don’t want to believe my brother would lower himself to such an arrangement, but I don’t doubt your word, Blake. There is nothing left but for me to do but return to the island and speak to Jonas. I knew he had business dealings with Ellert years ago, but I didn’t know they’d recently entered into any business contracts. Then again, Jonas seldom confides in me. I must find out exactly what agreement he’s made with Ellert.” He shook his head. “None of this makes sense.”

“When will you go?” Blake asked.

Quincy appeared dazed when he looked up. “I think I should catch the next train to Clayton. If things are as you say, we will need as much time as possible to get this all straightened out.”

For the first time since he’d talked to Amanda, Blake felt a glimmer of hope. “If you have no objection, Quincy, I’d like to accompany you to Broadmoor Island.”

22

Broadmoor Island

Quincy could barely wait for the boat to pull alongside the dock before he stepped onto the wooden pier. He extended his hand to Blake. “You may not be welcome, you know.”

Blake nodded. “I understand, but even if your brother orders me off the island, I had to come.”

Quincy grinned. “The last I knew, I still owned a portion of this island, so I don’t think he has the authority to order you to leave. On the other hand, your presence may lead to an uncomfortable confrontation, and I’d like to speak to Ellert and my brother before they’re overly displeased with me.” He nodded toward the boathouse. “I see Fanny and Michael are over at the boathouse. Why don’t you ask Fanny if she can arrange a meeting between you and Amanda while I go up to the house?”

Blake sighed. “That sounds like an excellent plan. I was afraid I might be forced to return home without an opportunity to speak to Amanda. I’m certain Fanny will help.”

Quincy patted the young man’s shoulder and then turned to the path that led to the house. Both his brother and Ellert appeared surprised to see him when he topped the hill and neared the veranda. He offered an affable greeting to them, but if their frowns were a gauge of their feelings, neither was particularly pleased to see him.

Nearing his brother’s chair, he said, “I’d like to speak to you and Mr. Jackson in the library.” Without giving them an opportunity to object, Quincy continued into the house. He’d never been assertive with his older brother, and he hoped curiosity would force the two men away from their game of cards.

He sat down in one of the leather chairs. When several minutes passed without the arrival of either man, Quincy drummed his fingers atop the massive desk in nervous fashion. Finally he heard the faint creak of the screen door as it opened and closed. He ceased drumming and folded his hands in his lap. He wanted to appear calm and composed when he spoke to his brother and Mr. Jackson.

“If this turns out to be another one of your brother’s woeful tales that he needs money to help the poor and ailing, I’ll walk out.”

Quincy clenched his folded hands as the comment drifted into the library.

“Don’t concern yourself, Ellert. I can handle my brother.”

He felt a momentary sense of satisfaction that today’s meeting would have nothing to do with requests for his charitable organizations. Both of these men would learn a thing or two today. They thought him lacking in business acumen, but today they would discover he wasn’t quite so laughable.

Quincy remained seated when Jonas and Ellert entered the room. “Thank you for accepting my invitation,” he said.

“Invitation?” Ellert said with a frown. “It sounded like a command to me. And for future reference, Quincy, I do not take orders. I give them. Had Jonas not persuaded me to humor you, I’d still be on the veranda playing cards.”

Quincy gritted his teeth. He’d be dealing with two pompous men, not an easy task under the best of circumstances, and what he had to say would likely make matters even more difficult. He waited until they had settled in their chairs.

Jonas rested his arms across his wide girth. “Well, speak up. We didn’t come in here to sit and stare at one another. What is so important that you’ve arrived unexpectedly and called us away from a private discussion?”

“Discussion? I thought you were playing cards.” His brother scowled and Quincy turned serious. “I have recently been informed of the ill-conceived plan the two of you have entered into, and I have come here in the hope that we can set things aright before it is too late.”

Ellert chuckled. “Ill-conceived plan? I don’t know what you’re talking about. And how
you
think you could possibly help me with anything is beyond my imagination.”

“Let’s don’t mince words, gentlemen. I know that Amanda is being forced to marry Mr. Jackson in exchange for a sum of money. It’s a bargain I find unconscionable.”

Ellert’s eyes turned dark, and he shook his head. “Who told you this? Amanda? You’ve been misinformed, Quincy. To be sure, the marriage has been arranged by your brother and me, but I did not pay for Amanda’s hand in marriage. I loaned your brother some money, which he will be required to repay even though Amanda and I will be husband and wife.”

Quincy straightened and threw a glance at Jonas. “Amanda said nothing to me, but I can see that the situation is as I’ve been led to believe. I can read it on my brother’s face.”

“So Jonas has been complaining of his situation? Is that it?”

“I’ve said nothing, Jackson. You know full well that I wouldn’t.”

“Then where has your brother gotten such ideas?” Ellert shot Jonas a hard look.

“Look, I know how to do business as well as you do.”

“Ha! If that were the case, you would never have found yourself in such a bind,” Ellert countered.

Jonas and Ellert continued to spar until they realized Quincy knew what had transpired between them. When the truth was finally spread out before them, Quincy leaned toward his brother. “Why didn’t you come and speak to me, Jonas?”

“For what reason? So you could revel in the news that your brother has made a mess of the family finances?”

“Is that what you think of me? That I would gloat over your misfortune? Surely you know me better than that. Did you think I wouldn’t offer aid?”

Jonas sneered. “What aid? I needed money, Quincy. You’re the one who has spent these past years begging and pleading with others to give
you
money for your charities. What would you have done? Arranged another benefit and asked for pledges to pay your brother’s debts?”

The sarcasm dripped from Jonas’s words. His brother held him in greater disdain than he’d imagined. “If that’s what it took. I have friends who would no doubt help.”

Jonas jerked away as if Quincy had slapped him. “And let the entire world know that the Broadmoors were in financial crisis? We would be the laughingstock of Rochester. Society would turn its back and never allow a Broadmoor to darken its doorstep.” He shook his head. “You would quickly find that we have no friends.”

Ellert guffawed and pointed an unlit cigar at Quincy. “You have no idea the sum of money I’ve loaned your brother. Your miserable friends and their donations wouldn’t be enough to sway me in the least.”

Quincy scooted forward on his chair. “Can we come to an agreement, Mr. Jackson? Surely you do not want to impose marriage on an innocent young woman. She had nothing to do with causing the bad feelings between you and Jonas.”

Ellert slammed his hand on the desk. “The only agreement I’m willing to make is the one I have already secured. I want your brother to suffer as much as I did. I want to take the only thing away from him that truly matters—his family’s respect.”

The remark caused a stab of pain, and Quincy gave his brother a sideward glance before returning his attention to Ellert.

“But it’s unfair to punish Amanda for her father’s offenses.”

“Members of my family were hurt by your brother. That was unfair, also.” Ellert shrugged. “I’ve learned that life isn’t fair, and therefore I seek my own methods in order to repay those who have wronged me.”

“ ‘Avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.’ Romans 12:19.”

“No need to quote the Bible to me, Quincy. I have no interest in what your Lord has to say about those who have wronged me or how I choose to retaliate. I don’t look to God for help, and I don’t plan to wait on Him to mete out His vengeance. I prefer my own methods.”

Quincy bowed his head and considered a response. He couldn’t permit Ellert’s statement to go unchallenged, yet he didn’t want the man to storm out of the room before they’d arrived at a better solution. He looked up at the man. His features had hardened into an angry sneer. “None of us is perfect, Ellert. We’ve all sinned and come short of the glory of God. You, me, Jonas—everyone who has ever lived. And we’ve all been hurt by others. But freedom from the pain of injustice doesn’t come by inflicting misery upon others. You may feel some fleeting pleasure when you force Amanda into marriage, but you’ll gain no permanent relief by hurting her. Forgiveness is what heals wounds. Just as Jesus forgives our sins, we must forgive one another.”

Ellert held out his palm as if to stave off the words. “Enough! I said I don’t want to hear your Bible verses, and I don’t want a sermon, either. I have no desire to forgive or forget. My wounds are as fresh as the day your brother inflicted them, and that’s exactly the way I want them. Pain is what makes people remember they are alive.”

Quincy shuddered. “Surely you do not truly believe what you’re saying. It is love and kindness that—”

“If you will not heed my admonition, this meeting is over.”

“Wait.” Quincy reached for Ellert’s arm. “I promise I’ll say nothing more about forgiveness or the Bible, but please remain a few moments longer.”

Fearful he might be detected before he could speak with Amanda, Blake silently followed Fanny up a steep path she’d declared safer than the main trail. She waved him to a halt as they neared the top. “Wait beside this tree and watch for me to wave you forward,” she instructed. “Many of the windows are open, and I want to be sure no one will see you and call your name.”

Blake nodded and stationed himself between two half-grown fir trees that would keep him well hidden. He inhaled shallow breaths while he awaited her signal. When he heard a faint whistle, he stepped out of his hiding place and topped the hill.

“This way,” she said, waving him close to the house. “Keep low so you’re not spotted if someone should look out one of the windows.”

He was surprised by Fanny’s stealthy maneuvers until he recalled the stories Amanda had told him of the three cousins and their escapades around the island as well as in the city of Rochester that still remained a secret. They’d obviously learned many useful tricks. He wondered what any family members might think if they should see the two of them creeping beneath the window ledges as they circled the house. He pushed aside the thought. Fanny would likely tell them it was a game they were playing with her cousins. And they just might believe her.

As they edged toward the rear of the house, Blake could hear an angry exchange taking place inside. He recognized Quincy’s voice and then heard a heated response. What if Mr. Jackson stormed out of the meeting before Blake could speak to Amanda? His mouth went dry at the thought, and he pushed Fanny forward.

“Hurry. I think the meeting is going to end.”

Fanny turned and placed her index finger against her pursed lips. Her searing look was enough to silence him. She motioned for him to remain hidden behind a small bush while she checked the kitchen. A moment later she waved him forward and pointed to the rear stairs. They crossed the kitchen on tiptoe and then hurried up the steps. After passing several bedrooms, she lightly tapped on a closed door and turned the knob, not waiting for an answer. With her free hand she grasped Blake’s wrist and yanked him into the room.

Shock registered in Amanda’s eyes when she looked up. The book she’d been reading clattered to the floor, and Fanny lunged forward and clapped her palm against Amanda’s lips. “Remain quiet and I’ll remove my hand.”

Amanda bobbed her head, and Fanny slowly released her hold. “You two don’t have long to talk. I’ll wait outside the door and keep watch.”

“It might be best if the door remains ajar. I don’t want any accusations of impropriety,” Blake replied.

The moment Fanny stepped outside the door, Blake clasped Amanda’s hands in a firm grip. “I have wonderful news.” He stroked the back of her hand while he explained Quincy’s hopes to put an end to the forced wedding. “Quincy believes he can solicit the help of old family friends and raise enough money to see this matter dealt with. I can’t imagine Mr. Jackson will refuse. I believe he loves money above all else, don’t you?”

Amanda bowed her head. “No.”

“No? You believe he truly loves you?”

“No, of course not. But Ellert will not agree to take the money. He has already told me that his greatest pleasure is inflicting pain upon others. No matter what Uncle Quincy offers, he’ll never agree.” She withdrew her hand from Blake’s grasp and caressed his face in her palm. “You will never know how grateful I am that you are attempting to help, but neither you nor my uncle Quincy will convince Ellert to change his mind. He is cruel and evil. His deepest desire is to punish both my father and me.”

“I don’t understand why he would want to punish you. The financial transaction took place when you were a young girl. You had nothing to do with it.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. “He saw us,” she whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“At Round Island—he saw us kissing. He was in a skiff out on the river—he’d come looking for me.”

She shivered, and he longed to pull her into his arms.

“He has threatened to harm me if I ever disobey him or if he should receive a report of me seeing any other man.”

“I’ll not stand for this. How dare he threaten you! I’m going downstairs and confront him. I’ll not stand for—”

BOOK: A Surrendered Heart
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