The Lightkeeper's Ball (40 page)

“Come back!” Olivia sprang after the man, as much to avoid Harrison’s stricken expression as to catch Richard. She raced through the crowd, but he disappeared in the throng and she lost sight of him.

Harrison reached her. She stared into his face, desperately wishing he would be able to explain away his part in this. “He’s gone,” she said.

“He won’t have gone far. I’ll find him.” Pain contorted his features. “Let’s go to the library.”

Every eye watched them exit. Olivia held her head high but nearly lost her composure when her gaze met Addie’s. Her friend’s eyes were brimming with sympathy. Olivia stepped into the library, and Harrison shut the door behind them.

He swept the mask from his face and stared at it in his hands. “I didn’t know he was Pixton.”

“I believe you,” she said. She steeled herself for his questions and accusations. “I wanted to tell you who I was, but you’d made it perfectly clear you could never love Olivia Stewart. I couldn’t find the words to tell you.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “It appears my distrust of the Stewart family was well-founded. You’re as deceitful as your sister. I hate lies.”

Olivia clasped her hands together. “It wasn’t exactly a lie. I do possess the title of Lady Devonworth.”

He turned the mask over in his fingers. “Why did you hide your identity?”

“I wanted to find out what happened to Eleanor and thought I might accomplish that better if no one knew I was Olivia Stewart.” The explanation felt weak, even to her. “After someone tried to throw me off the boat, I also feared to reveal my identity, in case the murderer made another attempt.”

“I would have protected you,” he said.

Olivia shriveled under the contempt in Harrison’s eyes. They’d had a measure of trust between them, and it was gone now. Scattered and destroyed like his plane. She’d gotten used to seeing admiration in those brown orbs. Now they were cold, so cold.

“I
had
to find out what happened to her,” she said. “My mother wanted me to marry you in Eleanor’s place, but I told her I wanted to see if we would suit first. Once the masquerade was in place, I felt trapped. I planned to tell you, then you informed me that you wouldn’t marry Olivia Stewart if she were the last woman on Earth. I wasn’t sure what to say after that.”

“You thought I killed her.”

She hung her head at his accusation, unable to deny it. “I didn’t know you then.”

“So you went into this deception to try to prove I murdered her.” His voice was shaky. “I honestly thought you loved me.”

The pain in his voice stopped her heart. “I-I’m sorry, Harrison. I didn’t think you killed her once I got to know you better.”

“Yet when you saw Eugene, you assumed I knew he was your brother.”

She bit her lip. “I was overwhelmed. I’m sorry. I should have trusted you more.”

“Yes, you should have.” He tossed his mask onto a chair. “Our entire relationship has been a masquerade. How appropriate.” He turned and exited the library, leaving the door gaping behind him.

“Harrison!” she called after him. When he didn’t turn, she slumped onto the desk chair and struggled not to give in to tears. This was her fault.

After a few moments, she rose on stiff legs and went to the parlor with a smile pasted onto her face. Her guests turned curious faces her way, but she moved through the crowd reassuring them that all problems had been smoothed over. If only it were true. By the time the grandfather clock chimed four in the morning, she was limp with the effort of keeping the smile in place.

“We want to tally the donations,” Addie said. “Are you okay?”

Olivia managed a smile. “We’ll talk about it later. Let’s find out if the ball was a success, at least as a benefit.”

“Want to do the honors?” Katie asked.

“Go ahead.” Olivia didn’t have the brain for figures tonight. She watched as the other women counted.

Katie glanced up, her eyes shining. “It’s nearly twenty thousand dollars, Olivia!” She choked up and tears filled her blue eyes. “I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it,” Addie said. “God always sees our needs.”

“I was beginning to believe that until tonight,” Olivia said. Her vision blurred and she grabbed her hanky to mop her eyes.

Addie embraced her. “What did Harrison say? Was he terribly angry and hurt?”

Olivia clung to her, inhaling her friend’s comforting perfume. “He was. I feel terrible. But there’s more. His valet is Richard Pixton.”

Addie stiffened. “Pixton? The man we’ve been looking for?”

Olivia nodded against Addie’s shoulder. “So all this time that we’ve been looking for the man, he was right under our noses.” Fresh tears poured down her face. “Richard is the one who has been terrorizing me. Calling on the speaking tube. He’s the one behind Eleanor’s murder. He tried to kill me too.”

Addie hugged her. “Oh my dear, I’m so sorry. But this isn’t Harrison’s fault. I can’t believe he would have known this.”

“He said he didn’t. I believe him.” She mopped her eyes again. “But he’s hurt and angry I didn’t tell him I’m Olivia Stewart, and he has every right to be.”

Addie bit her lip. “I was afraid of that.”

Olivia sniffled. “I know I should have told him.”

“Have you gone to the constable yet?” Katie asked, putting her hand on Olivia’s back.

Olivia pulled away from Addie. “Not yet.”

Addie squeezed Olivia’s fingers. “Olivia, trust God with this. He is there for you.”

“Thank you, Addie. Pray for me.” Olivia swallowed hard and pulled away. “I’m going to go see Harrison.”

“Ask God to open your heart and eyes,” Addie called after her.

Olivia rushed from the room. She grabbed a shawl from the foyer and stepped out into the night air. She could call for a car but she’d rather walk. Stars glittered in the black bowl of sky. Cicadas sang around her as she walked up the driveway. Walking through the silent town, she felt a presence. Were her friends praying for her? She was sure they were.

“Where is the truth in all this?” she asked God. “What is my purpose? Surely you have more plans for me than to live a vain existence of spending money and trying to impress people.”

God could see into her heart. Better than she could see herself. If he had stirred some kind of desire for more in her soul, shouldn’t she listen? Shouldn’t she explore the parts of herself that God brought to light? She’d been doing that, but now she wasn’t sure. Maybe it was selfish to want more than she had. To want a noble purpose.

“I’m going to do better, God,” she said. “I’m going to listen more. Be thankful for everything you give me and hold it with an open hand. Even if you want me to be poor. Even if I have to give everything to this unknown brother of mine. I want to become the person you see. Even if it means letting go of Harrison too.”

There was no lightning overhead, no dove flying up from the shrubs. But she could have sworn she felt God smile. Smiling herself, she quickened her step. Harrison’s house loomed in front of her. There was a light on. She’d thought she would have to rouse him and Richard from bed.

Please, God, let him listen. Let him still love me
. Squaring her shoulders, she stepped onto the porch and pressed her finger on the buzzer.

T
HIRTY-SEVEN

H
ARRISON PACED THE
floor of his billiards room. Nealy followed him. He hadn’t wanted to notify the constable, but it had to be done. If someone had asked who his best friend was, he would have named Eugene. To discover he’d been lying all this time—and was almost certainly the man who murdered Eleanor—made Harrison doubt everything in his life. His eyes burned and he rubbed them.

Olivia hadn’t cared enough to trust him with her identity. That could only mean she had never trusted him at all. And she was a Stewart. Now he marveled that he hadn’t seen it for himself. No wonder she knew all their business.

When the doorbell sounded, he stopped and glanced at the mantel clock. Nearly five in the morning. Only the constable would come at this hour. He strode down the hall and threw open the door.

Olivia stood on the porch. She still wore her Juliet costume and the necklace he’d given her. “May I come in?” she asked.

He stepped aside and turned his back on her as he retreated to his office, the closest room. The sooner she stated her purpose and left, the better. He heard her shut the door and greet Nealy, who had stayed behind. Traitor dog.

He flicked on the light in the office and went to stand by his desk as she appeared in the doorway. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

“I needed to talk to you.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. He saw she still wore the ring as well. Why hadn’t she taken it off?

She didn’t look away from his glare. She glanced around. “Is Richard here?”

“I have no idea where he is. I haven’t seen him since he ran off.”

She twisted a long lock of hair around her finger. “He left town?”

“I’m not privy to his secrets. Nor yours.”

A breeze fluttered through the window behind him and ruffled the papers on the desk. A storm was blowing in, but it was nothing compared to the storm in his soul.

Her attention never left him. “You totally trusted him?”

“I didn’t suspect
you
weren’t Lady Devonworth,” he pointed out.

She had the grace to flush. “How long has he worked for you?”

“Four years. I counted him as a friend. My
best
friend. I hate to see him behind bars.”

“Don’t you even care that he killed my sister—that he tried to kill me?” Her voice broke.

He nearly moved to comfort her but stopped himself. “Of course I care. I told the constable to arrest him.”

“Has he?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t heard. When you rang the doorbell, I thought it was Brown.”

The wariness in her eyes faded, and she gave a tentative smile. “I believe you, Harrison. I was just shocked at first when I realized he was your valet. I’m sorry.”

“Why were you so quick to jump to the wrong conclusion?”

Her eyes pleaded for understanding. “I’ve been dressed up and posed just like the Kewpie dolls. Perfect hostess, obedient daughter, scion of society. It’s hard to believe anyone would love me for myself and not for what I can do for them. I allowed my doubts about myself to carry over to you. I was wrong.”

His anger began to ebb. “I only wanted you, Olivia. Not your name or your status.”

Tears filled her eyes. She took a step toward him. The wind picked up again. The gentle breeze changed to a sudden gust that caught the papers on the desk and blew them across the room. She stooped and began to pick them up.

“I’ll get them,” he said.

She reached for a paper and froze. She snatched it up and stared at it, then up at him. His gut clenched when he remembered one of the papers on the desk. The forged signatures.

“Would you care to explain this?” she asked, holding out a paper. Her voice sounded thick.

He knew what it was without looking. “I was going to tell you about it.”

“You forged my father’s handwriting. You let me hope he was alive.” Her voice was disbelieving.

He shook his head and took a step toward her.

She backed up, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. I wanted to believe that there was a good reason for Richard Pixton to be under your roof. You had me convinced I was wrong.”