Forbidden Love (38 page)

A tremendous burst of sympathy welled up inside Lisa. She hugged Emma, her eyes wet with tears of compassion. "Oh, my dear, we shall help each other." With final words of comfort and last-minute instructions, she gathered her things together. She considered her morning well-spent and prayed that they could, indeed, help each other.

* * *

In the short time between her trip to
Homestead
and her return to her new house in Allegheny, a warm spell had settled over the area, turning the newly-fallen snow to dirty slush. Lifting her skirt, Lisa proceeded carefully along the sidewalk as she headed for her house on
Resaca Place
, but despite her precautions, the hem of her skirt hung soaking wet with melted snow. Frigid moisture seeped through her shoes, turning her feet ice-cold. Winter still held the city in its unrelenting grip, of course, and Lisa knew this warm spell was only a temporary respite. Good heavens! Christmas hadn't arrived yet. Months of cold, freezing weather stretched ahead.

Lisa scraped her high-button shoes on the outside mat and entered her parlor, happy to be home again. It took some time for her eyes to adjust to the dim light in the room, and at first, she didn't recognize her visitor. Upon seeing Mrs. Gilmore rise to her feet, she quickly recovered her senses, offering a cheery greeting.

"Mrs. Gilmore, it's such a pleasure to see you again." Lisa removed her cape to hang it on the hall coat stand. Observing the woman's somber face and noting how uncharacteristically quiet she was, something told Lisa the housekeeper had brought troubling news.

"I trust everything is all right at
Ellsworth Avenue
?" Lisa's uneasiness increased, for the woman didn't return her smile. "Is anything wrong?"

 
"I . . . I don't rightly know, Mrs.
Enright
," the housekeeper said in a wavering voice. Quickly, she reached down to the chair and handed Lisa a large envelope, as if wishing to relieve herself of a burden. "This telegram came for you late yesterday afternoon, too late for me to get it to you then. So I came here this morning as soon as possible."

Lisa glanced at the telegram, her face set in a neutral expression. "Ah, then, I fear I've kept you waiting a long time." While the woman pronounced a disclaimer, Lisa thoughtfully tapped the envelope against her hand as she attempted to staunch her worries. Certain the message was from William, she wondered why that should surprise her. He was bound to come home sometime, she realized with a sick lurch of her stomach. A cold sweat broke out on her face, her ears ringing.

 
"I have no doubt it's from Mr.
Enright
, informing me he's on his way back to
Pittsburgh
." Even as Lisa spoke, she questioned why she still continued this ridiculous charade of the caring wife, when Mrs. Gilmore knew better. And how will the woman manage William in my absence?
she
agonized with an increasing lightheadedness.

Lisa swayed on her feet, the room spinning around her. What a time to feel faint! Bending her head, she clutched a chair for support as she fought to throw off her sickness.

"Mrs.
Enright
--"

She dreaded to open the envelope but knew she couldn't prolong the agony, scarcely able to wait for Mrs. Gilmore to leave. Time, then, to discover the contents of the telegram.

"Mrs.
Enright
--"

 
Would the room ever stop spinning?

"Mrs.
Enright
, are you quite well?"

Lisa kept her head down.
"Just a trifle faint, Mrs. Gilmore.
I'll be fine in a moment."

In spite of her discomfort, she thought of the servants, knowing William would take his anger out on them upon finding her gone, reserving special ire for Mrs. Gilmore. Still dizzy, Lisa swallowed hard. As if from a distance, she heard Mrs. Gilmore urging her to sit down.

Slowly, Lisa raised her head, speaking with more calmness than she felt. "I'm quite all right, Mrs. Gilmore, truly I am. If I just rest a little . . ." She sank into an upholstered chair. The dizziness left her, replaced by a peripheral awareness of her surroundings. She looked up to see the woman standing in front of her, waving a newspaper in front of her.

 
"I feel a little better now." Lisa tried to smile.

"Are you sure?" Mrs. Gilmore looked down at her for a few moments, frowning with concern. "If you're certain you're all right--" Setting the paper aside, Mrs. Gilmore gave her a comforting smile as she collected her purse and gloves. "Mrs.
Enright
, I don't want to encroach upon your time any longer," she said as she slipped on her coat and drew on her gloves. "But I want you to know that if I can help you,
do
anything for you . . ." Suddenly practical, she asked, "Do you need any groceries?"

Lisa drew an unsteady breath, ashamed of her momentary faintness. With difficulty, she kept her voice controlled and light. "No, thank you. I have enough groceries to last me for quite a while. I paid a neighbor boy to get me a few items yesterday."

Mrs. Gilmore nodded briskly. "Well, then, I shall leave you now. But dear Mrs.
Enright
, please let me know if I can help you in any way."

Lisa straightened in her chair, fired with determination. She'd face the problem of William's return as she had other troubles, never letting it get the better of her. Her face set in calm acceptance, Lisa returned her thoughts to everyday concerns.

"Thank you for your offer, Mrs. Gilmore. I shall remember that." Cautiously, she rose to her feet. "And thank you for coming here today."

After the door closed behind the housekeeper, Lisa returned to her chair and tore the envelope open, her heart beating frantically. She smoothed the telegram on her lap,
then
held it up to read it. As she'd expected, it was from
San Francisco
.

She scanned the telegram. A sharp jolt of alarm struck her like an electric shock, and she read it again, scarcely believing the words. Looking up from the paper, she stared around the room. How in the world would she tell Owen?

* * *

 
"Dead?"
Owen faced Lisa across the table in the visitors' room of the jail, a look of stunned disbelief on his face. Conscious of the guard who stood in the background, he lowered his voice. "Are you sure?"

"Owen, there is no doubt. The telegram--"

"Yes, yes, I know. You told me about the telegram, about the self-inflicted gunshot. But I can't help thinking there must be some mistake." He gave her a long, searching look, his mouth tightening with concern.

Lisa tried to ignore the strong disinfectant smell of the room that made her eyes sting. "No mistake." Torn between relief at William's death and guilt for her feelings, she forced herself to look and act placid. "His address was found on his person, the gun at his side. No mistake."

"I see." Owen nodded thoughtfully, his hands folded on the table. "This still doesn't mean we can get married right away. It wouldn't look good for you . . . respectable. As for me, I'd marry you tomorrow, if I could. It may be at least a year--"

"I know." Regardless of guilty feelings, a smile found its way to her face. "But Owen, the fact remains, we can get married. What was impossible before--unless I got a divorce, and you know William refused to grant me one--is now a certainty." Lisa's voice brightened with enthusiasm. "We can get married, sweetheart."

"But not very soon."

 
"If you're having any doubts--" She tried to stifle the sick feeling inside her. After all this time and all they’d been through, did he no longer want her as his wife? She twisted her hands in her lap, wondering how she could bear his rejection.

"Oh, come now. Let's not have that kind of talk." His fingers touched hers, his thumb caressing her palm.
"Doubts?
Your Owen unsure of his love for this dear, wonderful lady who's come into his life?
You know me better than that."

Relief welled up inside her, and she wanted to shout for joy. She should never have doubted him. "Forgive me, darling. It's only that after all these months--a year, really--and all we've been through--"
And I haven’t been thinking clearly, she wanted to say. I’ve been so worried about you, about us.

"I know, I know." Owen smiled with encouragement. "The time will go by quickly. Before you know it, you'll be Mrs. Owen Cardiff. There! How does that sound?"

Her smile was dazzling. "I think it sounds beautiful." Yes, his wife! How she loved him, how she wanted to share her life with his, to know all the joys that marriage would bring. How could she wait?

"You think?"

"I know!" An idea came to her. "Owen, we could have a secret wedding."

 
"Um," he said with a thoughtful look, "that's something to consider." Smiling, he nodded. "Good idea! And we can marry in public later."

"Wonderful!" She wanted to spring from her chair and rush over to kiss him, to let his hands run over her body and feel his caresses.
But not here, not in this place.
Later, ah, later . . .

"Now, I want you to return to your house in Allegheny, and that reminds me. Didn't I tell you I don't want you visiting me in jail? This is no place for a lady.”

“Darling, I had to tell you about William. Besides, how do I know when I'll see you again?" Lisa said, her voice rising.

"It should be very soon, because my trial is coming up within the next day or so. The others charged with treason have already had their trial, found innocent and released."

"Why didn't you tell me that in the first place, as soon as I got here?"

"You didn't give me a chance. Now go home and remember I'll be with you again before the end of the week."

Lisa touched her fingers to her lips,
then
placed them on his mouth. "I love you so much, Owen."

"And I, you, sweetheart.
I can never tell you how much. When I see you again--and it will be soon, I promise--we can start to make plans."

"Goodbye, darling."
She left him then, walking self-consciously past the prison guard. A feeling of optimistic happiness enfolded her and accompanied her all the way back to their home in Allegheny.

* * *

 
Innocent of treason!

Owen left the Court of
Oyer
and
Terminer
a short while after his acquittal, heading for Lisa's home in Allegheny. Within minutes, she was in his arms. He held her close, kissing her again and again.

 
"Didn't I tell you they'd never find me guilty of treason?" he exclaimed.

"Thank God!" Returning his kisses, she touched his cheeks and ran her hand through his hair, her fingers tangling in his thick locks. "Oh, darling, thank God you're with me again!" She drew back to take her fill of him, pressing her hand to her thudding chest.

"I came straight to you, Lisa. I'm a free man now." Owen looked down at her, his eyes moist as he clasped her hand to lead her to the sofa. He tilted his head and observed her close.

 
"Why the frown, sweetheart?
Aren't you happy to see me?" he asked with a teasing grin, and made as though to rise from his seat. "Shall I go back to jail?"

Lisa laughed shakily as she tugged at his arm. "Don't you dare go
back!
You're going to stay here with me." She was quiet for a moment. "It's just that . . . I've been thinking about William."

"William!" He grimaced.

"Owen, I feel so guilty about his death . . . as if . . . as if I'm to blame." Lisa wrung her hands together. "God knows, I wanted to be free of him, but I never wished him dead."

Taking her in his arms again, Owen brushed his cheek against hers. "You mustn't think like that, sweetheart. How in the world are you to blame for his suicide? Don't ever think that. From what you've told me, he was depressed over unwise investments, losing money . . ."