Beloved (12 page)

He drew in a deeper breath this time. “You’re right, Father. There is much more we need to say to each other. Perhaps we should go into the library where we can speak in private.” He looked at Diana. “Would you ask Mrs. Brown to prepare a room for my father?” He hoped she saw the apology in his eyes. He never should have allowed his father’s anger to fall upon her shoulders. Not again.

“Of course. I’ll have his things taken to the green bedchamber.”

Tyson gave her a nod, then looked at his father. “The library is across the hall.” He led the way.

After closing both doors, Tyson rounded the desk and sat in his chair. Jeremiah took a seat opposite him. Ironic, wasn’t it? After all the times they’d faced each other in his father’s library with his father seated on this side of the desk.

“Do you hate me so much, Tyson?”

His father’s question took him by surprise. He’d expected a dressing down. “I don’t hate you.”

“Don’t you?”

“No.”

“Then why did you let me believe you were dead?”

A fair question. “It took a long time for me to get over my anger. Maybe I did hate you for a time. At least I hated the way you tried to mold me into being like you. I resented the way you tried to control me, even after I was an adult.”

“Not a single letter after your mother died. You didn’t even write to your wife.”

Guilt pressed upon Tyson’s shoulders. “I was determined to keep you from interfering again. The only way I knew to do that was to stop writing completely and try to go where you couldn’t find me.” He shook his head. “But I was wrong to handle matters that way. It wasn’t fair to you, and even more, it wasn’t fair to Diana.”

“And your mother. You broke her heart.”

“I know.” Emotion formed a knot in his throat, but he persisted. “Since it was too late to ask Mother for her forgiveness, I had to settle for God’s alone. But I hope she knows how sorry I am.”

His father’s eyebrows rose.

“Thankfully, it isn’t too late to ask for your forgiveness, Father.”

The man in Tyson’s memories had never been in want of words, but his father appeared speechless. If Tyson didn’t know better, he might even believe his father was fighting tears.

At long last, Jeremiah rose from the chair. “Perhaps we could
continue this conversation at another time. If you wouldn’t mind showing me where I am to stay …”

“Of course.” Tyson stood.

“Son?”

“Yes?”

“I have never been happier than at the moment I learned you were alive.”

It was as close as his father had ever come to telling Tyson he loved him, and it was Tyson who now found himself speechless. He motioned with his hand and led his father from the library.

After talking to Mrs. Brown about a room for Jeremiah and then informing Mrs. Cuddy there would be one more for supper, Diana went outside. Her mother was seated on a stone bench in the shade of a gnarly tree, her knitting needles moving in a steady rhythm.

“Oh, Diana. Come sit with me, dear. I have been enjoying the gardens so much. Imagine how they shall look in another month.”

“Yes, it is lovely here.” Diana sank onto the bench. “We have a houseguest.”

Her mother chuckled. “I hope it isn’t another stray cat or another orphan.”

“It isn’t. It’s Tyson’s father.”

“Mr. Applegate is here?” Gloria’s smile faded. “Good heavens.”

“I don’t know how long he plans to stay.”

“Was Tyson expecting him?”

“No. At least, he didn’t tell me so.” Diana glanced toward the house. “I believe he hoped to avoid this confrontation awhile longer.”

“I should think that would be true of you too.”

Jeremiah Applegate had never liked Diana. He’d thought her unworthy of marrying into his family, and he’d never tried
to disguise those feelings from her. He’d blamed her for Tyson’s absence as well as his continued silence as months stretched into years. Jeremiah’s feelings and his words would have driven Diana away, if not for Nora.

“Are we to dress for supper now that your father-in-law has come?” Her mother’s question intruded on Diana’s thoughts.

Diana shook her head. “No, he is family. We will treat him as such.”

“As you wish, dear.” Her mother gathered her knitting items. “But I believe I had best go inside and freshen up before Mr. Applegate and I are reintroduced.”

Diana stayed on the stone bench, wanting time to quiet her nerves. She’d tried not to let on—to either her father-in-law or Tyson—but the arrival of Jeremiah had shaken her. His raised voice had brought back a host of bad memories. In an instant, he’d made her feel like the young, naive, inexperienced wife who couldn’t keep her husband from deserting her, like the bride whose groom didn’t want her.

With a small sigh, she rose and walked toward the back porch, lifting her chin and straightening her shoulders as she went. She had made a bargain. Having her father-in-law in their home was, she supposed, an expected part of that bargain. She would get through this evening and through as many evenings as were necessary until she could leave this house—and Tyson.

She went upstairs, stopping to check on Ned first. He was asleep with Tiger curled on his chest. The boy’s reddish-brown hair fell onto his forehead, almost touching his eyebrows. Whoever had cut it last had taken no care to keep it even. But despite that, he was a cute child.

Especially while he’s sleeping
.

She smiled as she backed out of the room and closed the door. Then she went into her own bedchamber to get ready for the
evening. They might not dress formally for a family supper, but she wanted to look her best all the same. Jeremiah had always been able to make her feel inadequate with little more than a glance. She needed every tool at her disposal to keep that from happening now.

Her choice for the evening was a cream-and-gold gown with a high neck, pouter-pigeon front, and gored skirt with pleating in the back. The silk fabric was overlaid with appliqué lace squares and black velvet. The design of the gown, along with the corset beneath, provided the perfect S-curve silhouette every fashionable woman hoped to achieve.

Feeling like a soldier girding himself for battle, she rang for Liz.

As Tyson watched Diana enter the parlor that evening, he wondered if his father could see what an amazing woman she’d become. It was more than her beauty, for she’d always been beautiful. No, it was something more, something deeper. Something he couldn’t yet name. Something that made him want to spend the rest of his life discovering the secret corners of her heart.

Was this love?

Diana paused and looked behind her. A moment later his mother-in-law appeared in the entrance.

“Ladies, you look lovely.” Tyson moved toward them, stopping beside Diana, then turning to face his father. “You remember Mrs. Fisher, of course.”

“Indeed.” Jeremiah gave a slight bow. “A pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Fisher.”

Gloria acknowledged his words with a nod but there was wariness in her eyes. The same wariness Tyson had seen more than once in her daughter’s eyes. And who could blame either of them for distrusting the Applegate men? Tyson hoped he’d made a bit of
progress toward changing their feelings about him, and with any luck, his father wouldn’t make things worse during supper.

He offered his elbow to his wife. “Shall we go in?”

“Yes.” She slipped her fingers into the crook of his arm.

He glanced toward his father, who—surprisingly—took the hint and offered his arm to Gloria.

So far, so good.

The pleasant mood continued until they were halfway through the evening meal. Then a thunderous crash from upstairs put an end to their conversation and drew all eyes toward the ceiling.

“What was that?” Jeremiah demanded of no one in particular.

Tyson exchanged a glance with Diana. “Ned.”

“Who’s Ned?”

He ignored his father and rose from the chair. “I’d better see what happened.”

“I’ll go with you,” Diana said, also standing.

The two of them hurried out of the dining room and up the staircase. Tyson opened the door to the bedroom. Ned was on the floor next to the overturned straight-backed chair. Nearby, the chest of drawers lay on its front, the pitcher and bowl that had sat on it broken into several large pieces.

“Ned, what happened?” Diana knelt beside the boy.

“Stupid cat,” was all he answered.

“Tiger?” Diana looked around the room. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know. Under the bed, I think.”

A kitten that weighed no more than five pounds hadn’t knocked over the heavy bureau. Any fool would know that.

Diana glanced at Ned’s injured leg. “Did you hurt yourself when you fell?”

“Nah.”

“Why weren’t you using your crutches?”

Ned gave her a sullen look.

“Tyson.” She looked up at him. “Will you carry Ned to the bed?”

That got a response from the boy. “I don’t need carryin’!”

“Sorry, Ned.” Tyson moved forward and scooped him off the floor. “A gentleman doesn’t argue with a lady.” Three steps and he placed the boy on the bed, then looked over his shoulder at his wife.

“Tiger? Here, kitty, kitty.” Diana placed her cheek close to the floor and peered under the bed. “You poor thing. Come here, Tiger. Here, kitty, kitty. Oh, Tyson. She’s scared to death. Can you get her?”

Never argue with a lady
, he reminded himself as he joined her on the floor, first on his hands and knees, at last on his belly. It took his eyes a few moments to locate the kitten, cowering in a shadowed corner beneath the bed. It took a few moments more to wriggle forward and clasp a hand around her middle. As he drew her out from her hiding place, she hissed and bit his hand while scratching his wrist with her back claws. He managed to hang on, even though his instinct was to hurl her back to the corner.

He wasn’t sure he should give the kitten to Diana, lest she be bitten or scratched, too, but the decision wasn’t left to him. His wife whisked Tiger away, cradling the feline to her chest and crooning to her. No hisses. No biting. No scratching. In Diana’s arms, the wild creature became completely docile.

Lucky cat.

November 1893

Nora Applegate leaned across the distance that separated them and took Diana’s hand in her own. “My dear child, don’t you know what this means?”

Diana shook her head.

“You’re with child. You’re going to have Tyson’s baby.”

“His baby?” she whispered.

Nora moved to sit beside her on the settee. “This will bring him home.”

Did she dare hope her mother-in-law was correct? Would this news bring Tyson home? But how could it, when they’d heard nothing from him since soon after he left? His single letter had given no forwarding address. He hadn’t shared where he meant to go or whom he meant to go with.

As if understanding Diana’s unspoken doubts, Nora said, “I will speak to Jeremiah at once. I will ask him to hire someone to find Tyson.”

TWELVE

The next morning, Diana awakened with a song in her heart. Happy, that’s what she was. Very unexpected considering the strange turns of her life over the past three weeks.

Last night, her father-in-law hadn’t said a single untoward thing throughout their supper. Even his surprise over the injured orphan staying in the room next to his hadn’t brought the expected harsh criticism.

But it was the memory of Tyson drawing Tiger from under the bed that made her smile now. He’d done it for her. He’d allowed the kitten to scratch and bite him without a word of complaint.

For me. He did it for me
.

Tyson did seem different from the man who’d married and left her years earlier. Oh, he was still as charming as ever. Only the charm seemed more … genuine. Not a way to impress anyone or achieve some goal, but just him being himself. He seemed more at ease with the world, less likely to erupt in anger as he used to. Especially around his father.

Was it possible she could learn to trust him again? To care for him again? The questions caused her stomach to tumble, followed by an urgent need to see Tyson. A need to know if any of this was true.

She hastened to eat the breakfast the maid brought to her room, then washed and dressed in what seemed record time. Still, it was close to three-quarters of an hour before she descended the stairs. Her first stop was the library, but instead of Tyson sitting at his desk, she found her father-in-law, the newspaper open before him.

Swallowing a sound of disappointment, she said, “Good morning, Mr. Applegate.”

He laid the paper on the desk. “Good morning, Diana.”

“I trust you rested well.”

“Well enough.”

“Was the bed comfortable? I’m sure we could—”

“The bed was fine.”

“I’m glad.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the parlor.

“If you’re looking for my son, he’s gone out.”

Diana noticed his choice of words. His son. Not her husband.

“You and I hardly had a chance to talk last night.” Jeremiah motioned to a chair on the opposite side of the desk. “Please, join me.”

She felt like a schoolchild about to get a scolding from the headmaster.

He studied her for what seemed a long time before he said, “You’ve changed, Diana, since I saw you last.”

“Have I?”

“Yes. You’ve developed some backbone.” There was a note of approval in his voice. “I was surprised to learn you were with Tyson. I’d heard you planned to marry a Mr. Calhoun.”

It was no surprise that her father-in-law knew about Brook, even though there’d been no official announcement. Jeremiah made it his business to know as much as he could about everybody in his life.

“Why did you return to him?”

“I’m still his wife.”

Jeremiah leaned forward. “Yes, you are. But aren’t you afraid he might leave you once again?”

“No.”

It wasn’t a lie, really. She didn’t fear Tyson leaving her again. What she feared was that she would want him to stay.

“Excuse me, madam.” Upchurch cleared his throat behind her.

A welcome interruption. “Yes.”

“This just arrived for you.” He stepped closer and held out an envelope.