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Authors: Tracie Peterson

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BOOK: Dawn's Prelude
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“But of course,” Trayton replied. “I wouldn’t dream of disgracing either of you.”

Evie was sickened by the conversation. She backed away from the door. Never had she felt so betrayed, so used. Trayton didn’t care at all for her; he was simply playing a part. Her own husband had hired him to seduce her.

Running up the stairs, Evie nearly knocked the housekeeper off her feet. She didn’t bother to apologize to the woman but escaped to the solace of her room. Locking the door behind her, Evie felt hot stinging tears come to her eyes.

Of all the nerve! How dare he do this to me? How dare they?
She went to the bed and threw herself down.

It was so wrong, so unfair. She had very nearly yielded her body and soul to a man whose only interest in her was the money he was getting from her husband. She wanted to vomit.
How could
I have been so stupid? How could I have been so taken by Trayton
Payne’s act?

She hated herself. Hated that her loneliness and longing had nearly robbed her of her wisdom. Pounding her fists into the mattress, Evie wanted to scream. She didn’t, however. She knew she couldn’t say a word about this. The embarrassment was far too great.

As the evening wore on, Evie refused to go to dinner. Instead, she insisted her maid help her to dress for bed. “Tell Mr. Gadston I am feeling unwell. Tell him I will not be traveling to Chicago.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the girl said with a curtsy.

Evie dressed quickly for bed and once the girl was gone, relocked her bedroom door so that no one—especially not that sneaky Trayton—could gain entry to her quarters.

She remained awake until well after midnight, trying to figure out what she would do. Many times she had contemplated asking Thomas to release her—to annul their marriage on the grounds that it had never been consummated. He would never agree to it, of course. No man wanted to admit that he’d not preformed his husbandly duties. But now Evie had something to threaten him with. She could expose him to the whole world and tell everyone of his schemes with Trayton.

But what if Trayton lied? What if he merely laughed at her announcement and called her mad? Evie shook her head. No doubt Thomas would pay the man well to keep silent.

“I’m trapped. I’m really and truly trapped.” Despair crept over her, crushing her, leaving her struggling to breathe. “What am I going to do?”

Chapter 25

March 1871

I
t seems like a very nice house,” Lydia said.

“I’m glad you felt comfortable enough with us to come home,” Zerelda replied. “After over a month in the hospital, I would think any place would feel better.”

Kjell watched his wife evaluate their home. She walked around the parlor looking at the various pieces of bric-a-brac. Some were things she’d acquired after coming to Sitka, but most belonged to Zerelda.

She walked to the rocking chair and ran her hand across the back. “I’ve always liked rocking chairs.”

The comment surprised everyone. Even Lydia looked up in shock. “I’m not sure how I know that, but it just came out. I know it’s true.” She sounded excited, and Kjell couldn’t help but smile.

“It is true,” he told her. “You have always enjoyed sitting by the fire, rocking.”

Her smile broadened. “What else do I like?”

Zerelda laughed. “Well, maybe it will come to you as you explore, but you like a great many things.”

“What was my favorite food?” Lydia asked, looking back and forth between Kjell and Zerelda.

“You’ve always loved peaches. We can’t get them very often up here—they spoil too easily on the trip. But sometimes I make you peach pie with canned peaches, and you think that simply grand.”

“Peaches,” Lydia said, as if weighing the truth of the statement.

“You seem fond of deer roast,” Kjell offered. “And fresh bread.”

“That’s true,” Zerelda said. “You always love to eat it hot out of the oven.”

“I’m looking forward to getting my memory back,” Lydia said.

“Dr. Ensign assured me there was no reason it wouldn’t return in time.”

Kjell watched her move around the room. She stopped and looked down at the violin case. She studied it a moment and cocked her head back and forth. No one said anything. Kjell knew it was important she try to remember it for herself.

“Is this mine?”

“Yes,” Zerelda replied. She came to stand close to Lydia. “You’ve played since you were a child.”

Lydia turned and looked at her aunt. “Do you suppose I will remember it if I try again?”

“You might.”

Kneeling, Lydia reached for the case, then paused. Without touching it, she stood up. “I think I’ll wait. I feel so good about remembering that I like rocking chairs, I wouldn’t want to spoil the moment if I couldn’t remember what to do.”

Kjell thought her quite practical. He couldn’t help but wonder if the music would come back to her. Music had a powerful way of reaching people. It was like a bridge from the heart to the mind, providing a means of expressing what words could not.

“Would you like to see upstairs? There are two bedrooms there.”

Lydia nodded. “Yes, show me.”

Zerelda led the way up the stairs. Lydia followed, touching the polished wood rail with great interest. Kjell walked silently behind, praying that Lydia would find peace in their home.

“My room is the first one,” Zerelda said. “There’s an indoor bath in the next room. See, there’s a small tub and wood-burning stove with a large receptacle for water. You can heat water here and bathe in privacy.”

Lydia seemed pleased. Kjell thought she might even ask to take a bath right then and there. She looked as if she were about to suggest just such a thing when Zerelda pressed on. “This is the sewing room.”

Lydia stepped inside and Kjell couldn’t help but wonder if she would remember that it was to be Dalton’s bedroom. She looked back rather puzzled and questioned, “Do I sew?” Kjell nearly gave an audible sigh of relief.

“You were learning to,” Zerelda replied. “I had been teaching you.” She continued down the hall. “And the last room is yours and Kjell’s.”

Kjell watched Lydia hesitate for a moment before entering. For the past weeks he had tried to help her know him better—to court her in a sense. They had laughed and talked about many things—especially Kjell’s past and life in Sitka.

Now, coming back to the house—to the very room where she’d been shot—Kjell couldn’t help but wonder what Lydia might remember. He’d taken away any reminders of the baby. He’d stored the clothes and cradle outside in one of the large sheds and figured if Lydia ever found them there, he would plead ignorance. The idea of ever telling her the truth was more than he could imagine.

How could it benefit her to know that she had once had a child and now he was dead?

“It’s a pretty room,” Lydia said, looking around. “I like it very much. It’s so big.”

“Remember I told you that you and Kjell purchased this house from the man I used to work for, Mr. Saberhagen? He spared no expense in making his wife comfortable. Most of the furnishings were ones he left here when he moved back to Germany.”

Nodding, Lydia touched the oak headboard of the bed. Kjell thought she might be trying to imagine lying in it—perhaps even resting there with him. She moved across the room to the window and pulled the curtain aside. “It’s so pretty here. I can see why I would want to live in this house.”

“Well, today is exceptional for the season. We haven’t had a sunny day like this in quite a while, but you’re right,” Zerelda offered. “The view is incredible. That was one of the reasons Mr.

Saberhagen built the house here. You can see the water from here, but in the other direction are glorious views of the mountains.”

“I like the fireplace, too. The blue and white tiles are pretty.”

She pointed to the white mantel. “They really look nice against the painted wood.”

“Mr. Saberhagen brought them from Holland. That’s the country where his mother was born and raised.”

“How nice.” Lydia continued to look around the room.

Kjell had been silent since coming upstairs. He couldn’t help but reflect on a conversation he’d had with Lydia only a few days earlier. She had told him that she was resolved to be a good wife to him—that she could sense in him a compassion and love that was genuine. He had told her they could live separately upon her return to the house, especially since she was still weak from her injuries. She had thanked him and added that she felt confident her memory of him would soon return, and she would be comfortable again sharing his bed.

The thought of living in the house so close to Lydia—and yet so distant—was going to be trying. Kjell knew there would be times of sorrow when he couldn’t help but think of Dalton, as well as moments of anger when he remembered all that had happened. It was Zerelda who had asked him if it would be easier if she returned to the cabin so that he and Lydia could share the house alone. He had told her no, then realized that perhaps it would be best if he stayed in the cabin instead. Moving his things there had been one of the hardest, most discouraging things he’d ever done, but he felt it was the right thing to do. Lydia needed time, and he might be tempted to press her recovery if he had to see her so intimately day in and day out.

“Everything is so bright and cheerful,” Lydia said, finally coming to stand in front of Kjell. “It seems so fresh and clean, too.”

“Kjell did a lot of work in here while you were in the hospital,” Zerelda said. “He wanted to make it nice for your return.”

Lydia looked into Kjell’s eyes and smiled. “Thank you so much. You are so considerate of me.”

Oh, how he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her! He wanted to stroke her long brown hair and tell her that everything would be just fine, but of course he couldn’t do either one. He stepped back a pace to set an even wider distance between them.

“You’re very welcome. I was glad to do it,” he told her. “I would do anything for you.”

After weeks of contemplating what she would do, Evie had come to the conclusion that she would push for a divorce. She would suggest an annulment but be prepared that Thomas would never want to admit to his failings as a husband. Divorce would be the last thing he’d want—she knew his family would be staunchly opposed. Perhaps, however, if she approached his parents, explaining that it was entirely her desire—that he was without fault—then they would not disinherit their son.

After a great deal of thought, Evie decided that she would say nothing about Trayton. Just thinking of the man made her angrier than she could bear. Keeping away from him had been like trying to avoid mosquitoes in summertime. He always seemed to be at the house, and he always seemed to be looking for a way to be alone with her. Evie had triumphed, however, even dashing up the servants’ stairs one evening when he followed her into the kitchen.

Now Trayton was away on a trip. She had heard Thomas say he would be gone for at least a month, and that suited her just fine.

It would give her plenty of time to plead her case with Thomas and perhaps even find a small house for herself.

With careful consideration to her wardrobe, Evie dressed in a dark plum- and pink-striped dress. The bodice was delicately pleated and embroidered with the finest designs in black silk thread.

It was one of her newest gowns and had cost a small fortune, but Evie knew her husband could afford it. He owed her far more than a mere gown.

Sweeping across the foyer and past the stairs, Evie made her way through the large sitting room. At the far end of this, she passed through another large room, this one devoted to music. It had been where she had danced with Trayton on that fateful evening so long ago. At least it seemed long ago—a lifetime in the past. She had grown up a great deal in a few short weeks.

Thomas’s office could be accessed off of the music room. It had another entrance from the main hallway, but Evie had purposefully chosen this path to remind herself of her anger. She spied the small alcove where Trayton had first tried to seduce her. It was here that he had convinced her to adjourn upstairs with him to share a private moment.

Evie squared her shoulders. She was now sufficiently ready to face Thomas. She would be firm with him, but reasonable. Reaching for his office door, she was surprised to hear the voices of her brothers. She had thought Marston was still traveling.

“Ah, Evie. How good of you to join us,” Thomas said, seeing her at the door.

Evie nodded. “I didn’t know my brothers were here.”

“You are positively grown up,” Marston said, crossing the room. “Look at you. You’ve become a very beautiful woman.”

She frowned. “It isn’t like you to flatter, Marston.” She allowed his embrace. “Welcome back. Where did you go?”

“Well, it’s a long story. But I’m glad to be back, and there is something of great importance that I wish to discuss with you.”

“With me?” she looked at Mitchell and then at Thomas. “What could you possibly want to discuss with me?”

Just then a baby began to cry. Evie’s forehead furrowed as she tried to see around Marston’s broad shoulders.

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