her life.
What happened to Aunt Stella?
The only person to have contact with Stella after she was banished was Esther Magruder, Jedidiah’s wife and Stella’s mother. They carried on a secret correspondence for years, and Marianne remembered glimpsing those letters, always written in Stella’s distinctive purple ink. There had been a short-lived scandal after Esther died when it was discovered the old woman had hired an attorney to create a bequest for her daughter. Esther foresaw Jedidiah’s opposition and set funds aside to posthumously battle her husband in court in order to pay her daughter that bequest. She lost. Stella was never even notified of her mother’s attempt to remember her in her will.
Marianne snuck into her father’s office in search of clues as to where Stella had gone. Letters? Her grandmother’s will? Perhaps Clyde had Stella’s address secreted somewhere in case he wished to contact her about important family matters.
After an hour of searching, Marianne finally struck gold. Clyde kept a file of legal papers documenting Esther’s failed attempt to leave her daughter a bequest. One of the papers contained Stella’s last known address in Carson City, Nevada.
Marianne retreated to her room with the prized address and pulled out her copy of Don Quixote. Was she as foolish as Don Quixote, seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses and fighting for impossible causes? Just because Aunt Stella wrote with purple ink and dared to elope with the man of her dreams didn’t mean she was some sort of heroine, but Marianne still liked to hope she was. She hoped Stella found happiness with her dashing husband in the wilds of Nevada, where they built a perfect kingdom of their own.
Near the end of the week, her father came to her room.
“I have a deal with Congressman Dern,” he said in a clipped voice. “Lawyers are preparing an agreement. Delacroix will be released tomorrow afternoon. I have notified Andrew to expect you on the eleven o’clock train to Baltimore tomorrow morning.”
Relief trickled through her along with a wallop of dread. This was suddenly all very real. She had known it was coming, but it was still hard.
“I shall be ready.”
Both her parents accompanied her to the train station the following morning. It was the Baltimore and Potomac Station, the wonderful gothic building she had once explored with Luke. This would probably be the last time she ever saw it, for it was due to be torn down soon. It made the lump in her throat grow even larger.
Vera noticed. “Don’t cry, darling,” she crooned. “You won’t have to stay away too long, and think how much fun you’ll have in Baltimore.”
Marianne nodded. How typical for Vera to completely misread the situation, but she had no desire to clarify things. The train was drawing near, billowing clouds of steam as the engines slowed. The breaks squealed, and heat poured from the locomotive. Clyde looked so stern, even though he had won almost everything. She was leaving Washington and had agreed not to contact Luke. Wasn’t that enough for him?
She met his eyes. Her imperfect, stern, but loving father. They had both disappointed each other, but on this one thing, she couldn’t let him break his vow.
“Please keep your word about Luke,” she said, knowing that even mentioning his name was a risk, but it had to be said. “I know you don’t approve, but I love him, and I’m doing this on his behalf. Please don’t let me down. I don’t think I can bear it if you do.”
Clyde gave the tiniest nod of his head. “I will keep my word. I expect you to do the same.”
She nodded. Vera gave her a farewell hug, but Clyde still seemed angry and offered only a handshake.
Two hours later, the train pulled into the Baltimore depot. Andrew awaited her on the platform, and he was alone.
Good. She would deliver on every promise made to her parents, but nothing extra. She had come to Baltimore exactly like she promised, but now she was free.
“How was the ride?” Andrew asked as she stepped onto the platform. All around her passengers were disembarking, porters unloaded trunks, and people hugged loved ones.
This was not going to be a loving reunion.
“Fine,” she replied. “Papa knows it was you who squealed to the press about my real mother.”
Andrew blanched. “No, he doesn’t.”
“He paid a hundred dollars to learn the source of the story, and what a disappointing surprise it was. He and Jedidiah both want your head on a platter.”
Andrew looked