The sun had touched the tops of the redwoods by the time the doctor announced that Mr. Driscoll could be moved inside. After John assisted his uncle-in-law to a four-poster bed, he strode down the sweeping staircase in search of Miss Sullivan. Two attacks in one day disturbed him.
He found her in the solarium by Clara’s prize azaleas. The greenery framed her and complemented the red glints in her thick hair, now sedately contained with pins and combs. Her face was turned toward the window, and he stood a moment and studied her. There was more to her arrival than he’d been told. Unidentifiable currents pulsed between her and Driscoll. He couldn’t get past the thought that she might be Driscoll’s doxy even though he couldn’t quite see this freshfaced girl in the demure gown on Driscoll’s arm. Nor could he see the straitlaced Driscoll carrying on with such a young woman. The pharmacist took pains to conduct himself respectably in the community.
She put down the book in her hand. “Lieutenant North,” she said, her voice wary. “How is Mr. Driscoll?”
“Resting.” He dropped into the wicker chair opposite her settee. “I wanted to find out more about the attack on you. What happened after I left you?”
“I started back toward the manor right behind you. Someone tackled me from behind and jammed a burlap sack over my head so I couldn’t see.”
“A man?”
She nodded. “It was a man’s voice.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me not to move. When he put a knife blade against my neck, I obeyed.”
John frowned and leaned forward to look at the ivory skin above her blouse. “He cut you?”
She shook her head. “No. He merely tied me up, then ran off.”
“Seems strange two attackers would be on the property at the same time,” he muttered.
“Perhaps it was the same person. He struck Mr. Driscoll, then ran into the woods and attacked me.”
He nodded. “Likely scenario. But for what reason?” He studied the curve of her cheeks and that lustrous hair. He wondered what it would feel like.
“There you are,” Eaton’s jovial voice broke into their conversation. “How is Walter?”
“Recovering, with Clara’s solicitous attention,” John said.
Eaton pulled up another wicker chair. He glanced from John to Addie. “Is something wrong?”
“Miss Sullivan was attacked today as well.”
Eaton’s eyes widened. “You are all right?”
“Yes, sir. He encased my head in a burlap bag, then tied my hands.” She held them out. A faint red line still showed on the translucent skin.
John noticed the color had drained from her cheeks. “Are you frightened, Miss Sullivan?”
She tilted up her chin. “Not exactly afraid, Lieutenant North. I am concerned for Edward, though, if there is even the remote possibility something dangerous is going on.”
“I’ve been considering that myself. Perhaps we should go home, where we have close neighbors and the police are within minutes of the house.”
“Where is home?” she asked.
“Near the naval base in San Francisco. I’m only staying until after Henry’s birthday in order to allow my son to adjust to the changes.”
“I’ll be leaving with you?”
Why did she sound dismayed? He studied her downcast face. “Of course. It would be difficult to teach Edward from here.”
“Mr. Driscoll didn’t mention it,” she said.
“I don’t think we should assume there is any ongoing danger,” Eaton said. “There’s no need for you to take Edward and leave. It might simply have been a robber who attacked Walter. When he fled, he ran into Miss Sullivan.”
John frowned at his father-in-law. “We have no way of knowing what really happened. I’m not sure I want to run the risk to my son.”
Eaton picked up a paperweight and tossed it from hand to hand. “There is no need to react and change plans at this late date. Walter is injured. I’ll need your assistance more than ever. Besides, Miss Sullivan is needed to help Clara with her gown for the ball.”
“That’s hardly my concern,” John said. “Edward is my priority.”
“As he is mine. I want only the best for my grandson. That includes having him here where I can care for him.”
“Whatever you decide is fine, Lieutenant North,” Miss Sullivan said.
He wondered again about her relationship with Walter. “Very well, Henry, I’ll stay for now. But if anything else out of the ordinary happens, I will pack up Edward and take him home.” He kept eye contact with Eaton.
Eaton’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t remark on John’s tone. “Fair enough,” he said, rising from the chair. The sound of his footsteps faded on the redwood floors.
John turned his attention back to Addie. She glanced out the window at the dark yard. “I’d hoped to retrieve my book from the woods. It’s too dark now.”
She was still pale. Her wide eyes revealed her stress. “The book will survive the night. You should get some rest.”
“Mr. Eaton seems more concerned that you might leave than he was about Mr. Driscoll’s injuries.”
“He does love the boy,” he said. “Even if his condition embarrasses him at times.”
“The epilepsy is not Edward’s fault!”
“No, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t wish his grandson were whole and normal.”
She winced. “I wish I could help him.”
“So do I.”
She locked eyes with him. “I’d like us to be friends. A team committed to doing what’s best for Edward.”
He smiled at the innocence of her remark. While he sensed something more going on than what he knew now, he didn’t doubt her naïveté. “A friend is always welcome,” he said.
When had he ever heard a woman be so open with her feelings? He couldn’t help it. He liked Miss Adeline Sullivan.
A smile hovered on Addie’s lips when she left Lieutenant North. He might not completely trust her, but she would prove herself to him. She rubbed her sore wrists, and her smile faded as she looked at the red marks still on the pale skin.
She hadn’t had time to consider the assault and what it meant. Nor the attack on Mr. Driscoll. Could her father’s enemy have recognized her already and be trying to drive her away? And to silence Mr. Driscoll? She sighed and opened the door to her room, but the empty space repelled her. Gideon didn’t come to greet her with his wet nose. Retreating, she retraced her footsteps down the hall to Edward’s room. The lad lay on top of the covers in his nightshirt. She pulled the sheet over him and beckoned her dog.
Gideon rose from his post on the rug by the bed. He yawned, then trotted to her side. She petted him until they were both soothed, then tiptoed out. Mr. Driscoll’s door was open when she passed, and she peeked inside to see him propped on pillows.
He gestured for her to come in. “I just sent the maid to ask you to come see me.”
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
“Come closer so I don’t have to raise my voice.”
She peered down the hall, then stepped into the bedroom. Logs had been laid in the fireplace but weren’t lit. She seated herself on the chair beside the hissing gaslight. She folded her hands in her lap and prayed for this to be over so she could retire. She was unutterably weary.
“I heard someone attacked you also, child. Is this true?”
“Yes, sir. In the woods. He put a burlap bag over my head and tied my hands.” She showed him her wrists.
He fingered his temple. “He didn’t hit you?”
“No.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘Don’t move.’ But he put a knife blade to my neck.”
“That’s all?”
She turned up the wick on the gaslight so she could see better. “I suspect it was the same man who attacked you, and he happened to stumble into me. I believe he wanted only to slow me down so he could escape.”
Mr. Driscoll blinked, and his hands dropped back to the sheet. “Have you talked to anyone at all about your past?”
“No, sir. When would I have had time?”
“The attacks must be related,” he said.
“Is this normally a safe area?”
“Very safe. We’ve never had a break-in at Eaton Manor.”
“Did your attacker take your wallet or anything else?”
He shook his head. “It’s all accounted for.”
Addie studied his pallid face. He could easily have been killed. “Do you have any idea what was behind the attack?”
He pointed to the glass on the bedside table. “May I have a drink?”
Was he stalling having to answer her? “Of course.” She lifted the glass to his lips and let him take a sip.
“Thanks.” His head fell back against the pillow. “I didn’t tell Henry, but I think the attacker intended murder. He had a knife, as you know.”
She put her hand to her throat. “How did you escape him?”
“I kicked the knife out of his hand. He shoved me, and I fell back into the tree. Clara came out onto the porch and began to scream as he came toward me. I think her presence prevented him from finishing the job. He grabbed his knife and ran off into the forest.”
“You think the attacker wanted to kill you because you brought me here?”
His intent gaze held hers. “I’m a pharmacist and well liked. No one has so much as held up my drugstore.”
“Why didn’t the man try to kill me, too, then?” she asked, her head spinning with questions. “He merely threatened me until he could tie me up. I was an easy mark if he intended murder.”
He picked at the sheet. “I don’t know,” he said after a long pause. “Maybe he thought it would cause the police to dig into your background and the truth would come out.”
“There’s nothing to be found if someone investigates me. Even those in Crescent City know me as the lightkeeper’s daughter.” She rubbed her eyes. “Have you heard from your investigator yet?”
“I received a call this morning. The attorney’s office that processed the funds sent to your parents was destroyed by the Great Fire. All records were lost, so my investigator can’t find out anything by examining them. I’d hoped he could bribe someone to let him look at the records without involving the attorney.”
“Oh no! Will we be able to find any proof?”
“If he can locate the attorney, my agent might be able to persuade him to reveal the story, but that’s a long shot. If not, the locket and your resemblance will have to do.”
“What resemblance?”
He pointed to a painting over the fireplace that she’d paid little attention to. “Look at that picture of Laura.”
She rose and stepped to the painting. Her mother. Addie had longed to see what she looked like, but she hadn’t yet found a photograph. She drank it in. “Her hair is redder than mine. And she has green eyes.” The woman’s demure smile said she knew she was beautiful. And she was. Lustrous red hair lay coiled at the nape of her neck. The turquoise gown she wore accentuated the depth of her eyes.
Some dim memory struggled to bubble to the forefront of her memory. Soft hands, a sweet voice. Words of love. “She’s much more beautiful than I,” Addie whispered.
“Look beyond her more vivid coloring. Notice the shape of her nose, the fullness of her lips, the dimple in her right cheek. The similarities are subtle, but they’re there if one knows where to look.”
“Many people have dimples.” Her fingers pressed the outline of the locket under her bodice.
“Perhaps it’s easier for me to see because I loved Laura. You have her smile.”
“But why would anyone want to prevent me from being united with my father?” She could look into the woman’s laughing eyes no longer. She went back to the chair. “Do you have any idea who would have paid for my upkeep? You mentioned one of my father’s rivals. Is there anyone else?”
Mr. Driscoll sipped his water. “I have some ideas.”
“Such as?”
“You are nearly twenty-five, correct?”
She nodded. “My mother said I was about two when my father rescued me.”
“I suspected Clara in the beginning. She met Henry first, and he sought her hand until he met your mother.”
Addie liked her aunt, and the thought she might be behind her situation disturbed her. “Clara? What would be her reason to keep me away?”
“She might have wanted to wipe away all traces of Laura and her relationship with Henry.”
She leaned back in the chair. “That seems so Shakespearean.”
“He wrote about human nature. Jealousy is a powerful motivator.”
“I suppose. What about an inheritance?” she asked.
Driscoll pursed his lips. “Laura’s grandfather Francis died about two years ago. You are the beneficiary in his will. The will dictated the estate would go to you on your twenty-fifth birthday. In the event of your death, it would go to Clara, who intends it to be Edward’s.”
“Why Clara? This wouldn’t be her grandfather, right? You and Clara had a different maternal grandmother.”
He nodded. “That’s right. But Laura was his only living relative at the time he drew up the will. He liked Clara, and when the attorney recommended a contingency bequest, Francis decided to leave his estate to her. I believe Henry forgot about the inheritance until recently. When he realized the passing of ownership was due to take place, he realized he had to have you declared dead.”
“Just me? What about my mother?”
“He had her declared dead before he married Clara. I assume he thought it wasn’t necessary for a child.”
“And maybe he thought my great-grandfather would change his will.”
He nodded. “The legal step has taken some time, and it’s not yet completed. When that happens, the land will pass to Clara, who has drawn up papers for Edward to receive it.”
“A great-grandfather.” Addie clasped her hands together. “I always wished for grandparents.”
“He was a remarkable man. He doted on you.”
Yearning tugged at her heart. She’d missed out on so much love. “But all this still doesn’t tell us who had anything to gain by keeping my presence a secret all these years.”
Mr. Driscoll set his glass of water back on the bed stand. “We need to find out.”
“What difference does it make now? I don’t want anything from the Eaton estate. All I want is to make my father love me.”
“I mentioned I feared for Henry’s safety. The other possibility in today’s attack is that he was the intended target, and the assailant didn’t try very hard to hurt me when he realized he had the wrong man.”
“I see,” she said slowly. “You think whoever paid for me to be kept away is now about to move against Mr. Eaton.”
“And perhaps you.”
She gulped. The sensation of cold metal against her throat had been terrifying. But nothing was enough to drive her from the family she was just coming to know.