Rapture in His Arms (33 page)

Jillian bristled at Donovan’s comment about Tyler, but she ignored it. Where Tyler Addison was concerned, Donovan didn’t want to hear the truth. Jillian barely squeezed into her gown and knew the time had arrived to begin making other clothes that she could wear during her pregnancy. As she sat by the dressing table, she noticed Donovan’s reflection behind her. He smiled at her. “Havin’ a child agrees with ye. Never have ye looked more beautiful.” And then he turned and walked out of the room before she could reply. He left immediately for the race with his grandfather.

~ ~ ~

“Ma’am, ye shouldn’t be straightenin’ up in your condition,” Daisy chastised Jillian with a warning shake to her gray head. “The master told me what needs to be done, and puttin’ away books wasn’t on the list.”

“Oh, don’t bother about helping me,” Jillian said with a smile. “These books don’t weigh a thing. I can manage to put them on the shelf.”

Daisy came to examine the leather-bound books which Jillian had brought home from Tyler Addison’s all of those weeks ago. A slight pang of regret stung Jillian as she picked up the volumes that Dorcas had treasured. Among the books were the Bible and some works of Shakespeare. “My, what pretty books,” complimented Daisy. She picked up one and frowned. “Dairy of Dorcas Addison,” she read aloud.

“What?” asked Jillian.

“This here book, ma’am. Do ye think it’s about cows or such?”

Jillian took the book and smiled. “No, Daisy, this isn’t dairy but diary. ’Tis a journal that Mrs. Addison kept of her daily activities.”

“Oh, I see,” Daisy told her, “But I don’t know why anyone would keep an account of her daily doings. Will ye be needin’ me, ma’am?”

“Nay, Daisy, you may go.”

Daisy bobbed a small curtsy and left Jillian alone in the parlor. Jillian lovingly caressed the book that had belonged to her dearest friend. She wondered what Dorcas had written in her diary, but a diary was a personal thing and Jillian didn’t want to read it. She felt as if she would be intruding upon her friend’s innermost secrets and thoughts. Instead she placed it on the shelf, but just as she turned away, the book fell to the floor, almost as if an unseen hand had dislodged it. Picking it up, she nearly replaced it on the shelf again, but for some reason she found herself sitting in the chair by the window and lighting the candle to dispel the gloom. And then she opened the diary and began to read.

Most of the entries were dated just a year ago. Evidently Dorcas had had another diary prior to this one. Most of the pages were filled with accounts of household activities or concerned Benjamin. But then, just a few months before her death, the entries grew longer and she mentioned Tyler more often.

He is a terrible man
, read Jillian.
I am very grateful that he no longer seeks me out for his base needs. However, I do feel very sorry for Tilly. She may be a slave girl, but no woman deserves to be abused by a man like Tyler Addison. And the blackguard even leads me to believe that the girl likes his lovemaking. I know for a fact that she abhors it and has complained to her mother about Tyler. But no one can do anything about Tyler. He is the master here.

Jillian read on to an entry dated just two months before Dorcas’s death.

I fear my husband so much. If only I could run away, if only I had some place to flee, I would take Benjamin and never return again. He is so hard on the child, always shouting at him, and then he shouts at me when I comfort the child. Why did I ever marry such a brute? My face is black and blue from where he hit me yesterday. I so wanted to visit Jillian, but I cannot go anywhere until the bruises heal. Sometimes I hate Tyler so much that I would gladly knife him while he sleeps. But I cannot commit such a vile crime as murder. Yet, dear God, I want him dead so much!

Jillian’s hand shook as she read the entries and she felt unspeakably ill. What a monster Tyler was!

Poor Dorcas. Jillian’s heart went out to her friend. Though she didn’t want to read anymore, she felt compelled to do so, almost as if another unseen hand were turning the pages.

The last and most heart-wrenching entry was dated just one week prior to Dorcas’s death.

I am so frightened. I never thought Tyler was capable of harming me with other than his hand, but now I believe he means to do me bodily harm.

I think he means to kill me.

Just this very morning I ordered the groom to saddle my horse for my daily ride. Buttercup is such a docile mare, never has she given me any trouble. When I went into the barn, Jimmy, my groomsman, had the horse already saddled and waiting. I noticed that Tyler’s horse, a wild and unpredictable stallion whom he named Lucifer, was gone from his stall. Jimmy told me that Tyler had saddled up Lucifer and taken him out to the south pasture. He told me that Tyler knew I wanted to ride Buttercup and Tyler was the one who readied the horse. Though I have only harsh feelings for my husband, I was touched that he had saddled Buttercup for me. I should have been forewarned that Tyler does nothing out of the goodness of his heart, because he has no heart.

I rode Buttercup for some distance, and then I decided to let her run free. Such a mistake. But how was I to know that when the horse bolted, the saddle would fly loose from beneath me? I found myself on the ground, too stunned to move for a few minutes. But finally, I oriented myself and realized that nothing was broken. Slowly I made it to my feet. Luckily, Buttercup was standing a short distance away, apparently waiting for me. As I neared the horse, I felt someone watching me. I turned, and in the distance I saw Tyler atop Lucifer. The man was watching me, and I got the impression that he had seen the fall—and done nothing. When he saw that I had seen him, he turned his horse and rode in the opposite direction.

I checked my saddle and realized the bridle had been cut, sliced cleanly as if by a sharp knife. My hands trembled as I understood what had happened.

My husband had tried to kill me.

I fear that he shall not cease trying. I am so afraid, so fearful of what Tyler might do, but I can’t confide to anyone. I married Tyler against my parents’ wishes and have rued the day ever since. I just know he shall not give up, but how do I protect myself? Perhaps I am wrong, but he knew I fell and he didn’t help me. Is he guilty of negligence or an attempt on my life? And who would believe the man would wish me dead?

When I returned home, limping and sore from the fall, he asked me what had happened. He knew very well what happened, but pretended he hadn’t witnessed the fall. When I told him, he shrugged his shoulders and only advised that I should be careful in the future. What am I to do? Where should I go?

I fear I shall not live out the month.

Jillian’s hands shook so badly that she dropped the book to the floor. Dorcas’s prophetic words caused her stomach to heave. Jillian ran to the chamber pot in her room and was violently ill. After she finished, she found she was crying. The tears streamed down her cheeks and spotted the front of her gown.

Poor dear Dorcas! Jillian knew within her heart that Tyler had murdered Dorcas. She had always thought Dorcas’s death by drowning was strange, and now she knew she had been correct. Somehow Tyler had tricked Dorcas into going to the river that day, or perhaps he had knocked her unconscious beforehand, maybe even killing her instantly, and then thrown her body into the river. No matter how it had happened, Tyler had killed her.

And now Jillian knew the truth.

What could she do about it? Nothing, absolutely nothing, for she had no evidence other than Dorcas’s diary, and that entry had nothing to do with a drowning. But something nagged at Jillian, something Dorcas had said about the saddle being cut. Tyler had engineered the plan, probably cutting the saddle when he readied Dorcas’s horse. Tyler knew she was going to ride that day—just as he knew Donovan would ride today at the annual race!

Tyler had personally invited Donovan to enter the race. And Donovan, ever eager to best Tyler, had accepted the challenge. Jillian knew how much Tyler resented Donovan, and she would go so far as to believe Tyler hated him. Was Tyler capable of trying to murder Donovan?

Yes! Jillian’s mind screamed. She nearly gave in to the sick feeling in her stomach again, but she took a deep breath to quell the nausea. She didn’t have time to be sick. Donovan’s life was in danger. Within her soul she knew that Tyler might attempt to cut Donovan’s bridle. Dorcas hadn’t been seriously injured or died when she fell because Buttercup was basically a docile horse. Goldenrod was not. The stallion was as wild as a summer hurricane and swifter than lightning. If Donovan suffered the same sort of fall it could very well be fatal. And wasn’t that what Tyler was counting on? What better way to be rid of Donovan than an accidental death, something no one would question.

Jillian hurriedly pulled on her cloak. She rushed down the stairs and called for Zeke.

Zeke, a tall and gangly young man, appeared and instantly he readied the skiff for her when she explained they were going to the Laytons’. He helped her into the skiff, and she ordered him to hurry. She prayed they wouldn’t be too late, that she’d arrive in time to warn Donovan. She didn’t stop to consider that she might be mistaken.

Jillian knew she wasn’t.

As soon as Zeke tied up the skiff and helped her onto the dock, Jillian ran toward the small racecourse where she had spotted a number of people. She scanned the crowd, but she didn’t see Donovan or his grandfather. A feeling of doom claimed her, and as she walked forward, Cyrus Witherspoon materialized before her.

“My dear Jillian!” he exclaimed with a worried frown upon his face. “Whatever are you doing here? This is no place for a woman in your condition, especially now—”

“What do you mean ‘now’? Has something happened to Donovan?” She clutched at Cyrus’s arm. “Has he been hurt?”

“Now, now, don’t become alarmed,” he said in a soothing voice. “Donovan is fine. A near tragedy, but he is all right. The governor was here, and his men are looking for Tyler Addison right now.”

“What happened, Cyrus? Did Tyler do something?”

Cyrus patted her arm. “I don’t wish to worry you, but you’ll discover the news for yourself. Tyler was seen cutting your husband’s bridle and when discovered, he ran off. No one has seen him since, but the governor’s men are searching for him. They’ll find him, never fear.”

“Where is my husband?” she pleaded, feeling slightly faint.

“Inside the house, my dear.”

Jillian waited a few seconds until the world righted itself and then she rushed into the Layton home. She discovered Donovan with Grayson Chandler in the parlor. Elliot Layton was pouring each man a sherry and Sabrina was cutting an apple pie. John Lattimore stood extremely close to Sabrina. At Jillian’s sudden appearance, everyone grew silent. Not caring about propriety, Jillian rushed headlong into Donovan’s arms. “I’m so grateful you’re all right!” she cried, not hiding her happy tears.

“Aye, I’m fine, Jillian. What are ye doin’ here?” His arms wrapped around her waist and held her close. It was some seconds before she could speak, so overcome was she by her joy that Donovan hadn’t been harmed.

“I—I was reading Dorcas’s diary,” she began. “Tyler had tried to murder her by cutting the bridle on her saddle. And—and somehow I just knew that he intended to do the same thing to you today. I had to warn you—and I was right. Thank God someone saw Tyler before you mounted Goldenrod.”

Donovan gazed down at her in what she read as disbelief, but then he smiled at her with such warmth that Jillian’s very body grew heated. “Ye and God were lookin’ after me.”

Elliot came forward. “I assure you that Tyler Addison will be apprehended, Mrs. Shay.”

“Yes,” agreed Grayson with a kind smile for her, “Governor Berkeley has given me his word that the blackguard will be found and convicted for trying to murder my grandson.”

“And for murdering Dorcas Addison,” put in Jillian. “I truly believe he drowned her. Dorcas was frightened he was going to kill her, she wrote her fears in her diary.”

“Oh, how horrible!” Sabrina chimed in.

“I think Governor Berkeley would be interested in reading Mrs. Addison’s diary,” Elliot told Jillian.

“Donovan, why don’t you escort your wife home?” Grayson said to his grandson. “I shall handle any other problems which may arise because of this attempt on your life. Take my coach. I’ll take Goldenrod.”

“Aye, I think I’ll do that,” Donovan agreed and with fond farewells to all, they then headed for Grayson’s carriage which they found at the back of the house. The driver clucked to the horses, and the coach began its journey home. As they sat together on the cushioned seat, Jillian rested her head on Donovan’s shoulder. Her entire body shook, now that she was going home and Donovan was safe.

“I believe Dorcas wanted me to read her diary,” Jillian confessed. “I’ve had the book for a very long time, and I didn’t have the inclination to read it until today. She wanted me to read what Tyler had done to her, to know that your life was in danger from him. Do you think he’ll be caught? He’s such a horrid man.”