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Authors: Linda Daly

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BOOK: Doves Migration
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~ Six ~
Deceptions

The morning following Joshua and Elise’s wedding, Miranda, who had
been offering her services at the Minority Orphanage during the past
several years, returned to her daily activities. As soon as she entered the
courtyard--just as she had in the past--a sense of solace and peace enfolded
her.

The thought of Joseph’s tragic death never far from her mind and the
role she played ending his life tormented her, yet here her guilt eased. By
helping with the children, it gave her a sense that if she could just help one
of them, then a part of Joseph lived on in their future.

“Good morning Miranda. What a pleasant surprise. I didn’t expect to
see you today with your father still in town. The children are attending
early services so we have time for a cup of coffee, if you’d like.”

“I’ve had mine, but a nice chat would be welcome.”
“You look troubled. Is everything all right?” Felicity asked.
“I suppose I’m being silly, it’s just that I was thinking about Elise and

Joshua’s wedding, which led me to wonder about my own future . . . or
lack of one where men are concerned,” Miranda said hesitantly.

Patting the bench beside her for Miranda to join her, Felicity said
soothingly, “Surely you can’t mean that, considering that Joshua’s younger
brother, Charles, and Tad couldn’t keep their eyes off you last evening.”

“I hardly think they are a testimony to my charms considering I was
the only available female in attendance.”
“Oh come now, Miranda, you and I both know that was not the reason
for their interest. What’s really bothering you?”
“I wish I knew. Seeing you and Benjamin, and Elise with Joshua made
me wonder why I refuse the attention of men.”
“All men, or are you reconsidering Tad’s attentions by any chance?”
Shyly she smiled. “Am I that transparent, Felicity?”
“Not exactly. But considering that you’ve only met Charles, and that
Tad has repeatedly exhibited affection toward you over the years, it was a
pretty good guess.”
“Do you think . . . er . . . I mean, if I should begin taking his
advancements more seriously, what if he feels it was out of desperation or
worse that I’m a strumpet?”
“"Desperation or a strumpet?” Felicity said, trying to mask her desire
to chuckle. “Heavens no! Why on earth would you even think such a
thing?”
“You said it yourself. For years I’ve ignored his advances. Yet now,
after witnessing Elise’s wedding, I suddenly become interested. If that
doesn’t appear desperate or the actions of a tart, then what does?”
Seeing her friend was serious, Felicity put her arm around her shoulder
and hugged her fondly. “Dearest Miranda, if you ask me, you worry too
much. If I know Tad, no thoughts will ever cross his mind. He’ll be so
pleased that you finally are giving him a chance.”
“And what about Michael and Sarah?”
“Oh, you are being silly. I can’t think of anyone they would prefer a
budding romance with their son, than you.”
Continuing to rest on Felicity’s shoulder, Miranda sighed, “Perhaps,
but what if Tad and I didn’t work out. Can you imagine how awkward our
relationship would be then? I just couldn’t bear having a strain between our
families, especially with me living with them so much of the time. I owe
Michael so much. If it weren’t for him helping my father, I shudder to think
what would have come of him or me for that matter.”
“Sit up and look at me,” Felicity said softly. “My dear Aunt Gwen once
told me to follow my heart. Under the circumstance, I think you would be
wise to do the same. You trying to second-guess everything obviously has
caused you more unhappiness than if you and Tad were to make a go of it
or not. Love isn’t planned, or can’t be forced upon two people. So why not
try just letting your heart lead you for the time being and have faith in God
that you will know what is right for you? However, before you can do
either, perhaps you should ask yourself one question. Are you afraid to love
someone?”
Defensively Miranda answered, “I’m not afraid to love. I just don’t
love Tad. When I am with him, I feel he’s not truly being honest with me.
It’s as if he is portraying the person he thinks I want him to be. Does that
make sense? Always saying the right thing, exhibiting the finest mannerism
of a perfect gentleman, yet I just feel there is something I should be leery of.”
“Surely you don’t think he’s sinister?”
“Of course not.” Miranda paused pensively gathering her thoughts
before continuing. “It’s just that I think he’s learned to be a master of
concealing his true feelings to please his grandmother. At times it’s as if he
is suppressing something he is ashamed of from his father as well as the
Honeycutt’s.”
“Dearest, Tad surely can’t be faulted for suppressing his thoughts,
considering you too have done the same. However, if you honestly feel he
is acting strange to cover up something he is ashamed of, then perhaps you
should discuss your feelings with Sarah or Michael.”
“And tell them what? I have nothing concrete on which to base my
suspicions other than his peculiar behavior.”
“Well, perhaps if you tell me what it is that you find so peculiar, that
will help?” Felicity asked sincerely.
Eager to confide in someone she trusted, Miranda asked, “Have you
noticed when we are all together, how he frequently is looking at the clock
and at the slightest provocation he’ll excuse himself to leave early? Where
does he go? If you ask him, Tad cleverly avoids the question never giving a
direct response. Careful not to be caught in a lie, I suspect. In addition, I
find it particularly odd that he didn’t welcome the opportunity to move in
with his father and Sarah considering Michael has been away for so long.
Only after Alfred’s insistence did Tad agree. Now of course I understand he
has a lot of resentment toward his father, but how can he hope to establish
a relationship with Michael, if he remains with his grandparents? In truth, I
think he doesn’t want to move in with them simply because Michael would
know how late he returns every night.”
“I hadn’t realized Tad refused to move in with his father. How sad for
Michael and Sarah. They both must feel just awful . . . Speaking of which,
have they found a house yet? With all the excitement of the wedding
yesterday, I forgot to ask either of them.”
“Oh I do wish you had, otherwise it’s as if I’m gossiping. However,
I’m sure they wouldn’t mind you knowing they purchased a vacant home
near Elise and Joshua’s with the intent to move in by week’s end. In answer
to your other comment--although I have never discussed it with either of
them personally--I should think it must be devastating for both Sarah and
Michael knowing Tad’s reluctance to join them. It truly saddens me,
especially knowing what decent and loving people they are.”
Nodding, Felicity hastily added. “Never fear, I’ll not breathe a word of
what we’ve discussed. I do have a question though. With your father now
looking for a place of his own, where are you intending to stay? Surely, this
must be awkward deciding where you should go. On one hand, you have a
lifelong relationship with Sarah, yet on the other, the Honeycutt’s have
been most generous allowing you to be a houseguest for so long. You must
be torn.”
“Actually it wasn’t that hard a decision. You know what a special
relationship I have with Alfred. Well, the dear asked me if I would be so
kind to remain with him and Vivian. Of course, I agreed. Especially when
Vivian seemed so eager for me to stay as well. Not that I believed for an
instant that she really wanted me there. I suspect she had ulterior motives.
With me around she’ll be free to come and go as she pleases without
feeling guilty that Alfred is alone. Besides, Michael, Tad and Sarah need
time to get to know one another, without any outsiders interfering.”
“I would hardly consider you an outsider, Miranda. However I agree,
time alone with one another should improve their awkwardness if nothing
else. As for Vivian, she does spend a lot of time with Lavinia, which could
be hampered if Alfred were alone I suppose.”
“In truth, Lavinia Sterling was the only drawback of remaining at the
Honeycutt’s.”
“Yes well, I can appreciate your sentiments regarding Lavinia. You
know it’s odd, for a time there following Aunt Gwendolyn’s death, I
honestly felt Vivian and I could be close. That was until she and Lavinia
became such dear friends, of course. For the life of me, I simply cannot
understand what those two women have in common, other than their
husbands are in business together.”
Felicity paused for a moment to ponder such a thought then shook her
head, and continued. “Oh never mind about that woman, the least said
about Lavinia Sterling, the better I like it.”
“Yes indeed. However, it was rather enjoyable witnessing Elise beat
Lavinia at her own game, while she kept her occupied so that we could
avoid her nasty digs.”
“As shameful as this sounds, it was glorious. Yet now, thinking on it
some, perhaps it would have been wiser if we allowed Lavinia her victory.
From past experience I have learned that when Lavinia is denied, she will
be hell-bent on getting revenge. Precisely why in part, Benjamin and I were
thinking of begging off tonight. We still have so much to do after being in
Washington for so long, and we were rather looking forward to a peaceful
night alone together.”
“Oh no,” Miranda whined, disappointed. “Please reconsider. Don’t
leave me to tend to her myself, it will be so awkward if you’re not there.”
“Well, I’ll talk to Benjamin . . .” she said, hesitating as the sound of
laughter filled the courtyard. “Oh dear, the younger children must have
been released from church early, and I’ve not even had a chance to prepare
any lessons for today. Where has the time run off to?” She stood up
gathering her few belongings.
“It’s all my fault. Why don’t amuse I them for awhile so you can work
on their lessons?” Miranda asked, helpfully.
“That sounds perfect. Thank you, dear friend.” Not waiting for a
response, Felicity called out as she made her way to open the door of the
small schoolhouse. Turning with a smile, she said, “We can talk later if you
like.”
Nodding, Miranda rounded up the smaller children to play Maypole in
the courtyard. From the corner of her eye, Miranda became distracted by a
man delivering ice who was staring at them. Trying to appear cordial, she
smiled at the gruff, handsome dark-haired man. Even from this distance,
she was attracted to his green eyes.
“Good day, sir. May I help you?” Miranda asked shyly.
The man seemingly surprised that she would speak to him, said, “No,
miss. I’m sorry for disturbin’ ya.”
Realizing he was about to leave and finding herself attracted to the
stranger, Miranda boldly said, “Why, you’re not disturbing me at all.” A
faint smile crossed the stranger’s lips and hoping to draw him into a
conversation, she asked, “Are you Irish, sir?”
At once his smile faded and immediately Miranda regretted what she
had asked and quickly added. “Forgive me for asking, but your accent is
like that of some of the children here.”
“Well you’re a fine one to talk about accents lass, considering yer’s is
different than the rest.”
“I’ve offended you. Oh please do accept my apology.” Walking toward
the stranger, Miranda extended her hand. “My name is Miranda, Miranda
Brown. So nice to meet your acquaintance, sir.”
“Missy, I’m not one of yer high falutin’ society friends that you need to
be shaking hands with. So there be no need to be callin’ me sir, neither. I’m
nothing but an ice deliverer and don’t think you’ll have much cause for
exchanging names with the likes of me.”
Miranda stood horrified that not only had he not accepted her gesture
of kindness, but she detected contempt for her in his eyes. Embarrassed,
she felt her cheeks flush and lowered her hand to her side. Sheepishly, she
said, “There is no cause for you to be rude. I was only trying to be polite.”
Suddenly her embarrassment turned to outrage and Miranda, not giving
the man a chance to speak, huffed, “You seemed like a nice man at first,
but obvious I was mistaken. Good day to you, sir!”
Turning abruptly, she returned to the children as they sang
“Ashes,
Ashes we all fall down.”
Seeing them fall and roll on the ground merrily
laughing, Miranda clapped her hands. “Oh that was wonderful! Shall we do
it again?” she called out to the eager children around her.
Cheers of delight erupted from the children, and at once they merrily
held hands while skipping in a circle singing loudly,
“Ring around the
roses, a pocket full of posies
. . .

The man, still standing alongside the fence hailed to her. “Pst, Miss
Brown is it?”
Hearing him, Miranda, still angered, turned slightly not looking at him,
but keeping her eye on the children, and said, “Yes?”
“Gilbert O’Flaherty, is me name. I lost me senses fer a wee minute. It’s
been a while since anyone, especially one so lovely as yerself has shown
me kindness in this ‘great land of opportunity’ and I forgot me manners.”
Aware of the sarcasm in his voice referring to America, Miranda noted
he had complimented her, and she glanced over at him. Immediately her
heart began to race, seeing tenderness she had not expected as he gazed at
her.
Never had Miranda met anyone who confused her more. At one
moment he could appear kind and gentle, yet at a drop of a hat he seemed
capable of displaying anger and resentment. Even his comment of her
appearance seemed contrary and completely inappropriate for two people
who had just met, and rather than continue with this obviously rude and
unrefined man further, Miranda sharply responded, “Yes you did Mr.
O’Flaherty! Forget your manners, that is.”
Expecting him to leave, Miranda was startled to see him remain where
he stood with a devilish grin on his lips as if deliberately trying to annoy
her further. Their eyes locked on one another’s and she firmly placed her
hands on her hips.
“Well aren’t you going to offer an apology for embarrassing me by not
accepting my hand and then inappropriately commenting on my
appearance?”
Chuckling, he said. “Well lass, not only am I not sorry fer what I said,
but less you’re daft, I did apologize.”
Miranda’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped. “Daft? Well clearly,
you are no gentleman!”
“Aye. Never said I was, lass. As I told you before I’m a laborer who
works hard for his money rather than parade around town with more
money than brains.”
It was clear to Miranda that he resented the upper class, and against her
better judgment, rather than end the conversation, she stepped closer to
him. “Mr. O’Flaherty, I’m sure you work very hard for a living, which is
admirable. What I don’t find gallant is that you insist on behaving rudely.
Not that it matters, but all I was trying to do was be kind, and in return you
have managed to insult me repeatedly. What possible reason does this serve
other than prove you’re mean-spirited?”
“Mean-spirited you say? Well coming from a fair maiden who has her
fists clenched at her hip while her pupils are watching, I’d say you are a
fine one to talk, Miss Brown. Now is that how a fine upstanding lady of
America behaves?”
There was no mistaking the amusement in his eyes and Miranda’s back
stiffened while glaring at him, realizing he had managed to goad her into
losing her temper. Taking in a deep breath to try and regain her composure,
she turned her attention to Felicity who stood ringing a bell for the children
to line up.
Without saying another word or looking back, Miranda, flushed by
such an encounter, rounded up the children and walked across the
courtyard of the orphanage, feeling his eyes still upon her.

BOOK: Doves Migration
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