The strains of a Strauss waltz filled the immense ballroom of Matthew's home the next evening, catapulting Alexandra back to the night of the Silver Lake Quartette's musicale a hundred lifetimes ago.
"Do you remember?" she asked Matthew as he swept her into his arms and led her onto the floor.
"We danced in the hallway at Sea View." He held her close to still her trembling. "We'll dance there again, Alex," he whispered into her ear. "I promise you that."
She wanted nothing more than to rest her head upon his shoulder and forget everything but the music and the wonderful feel of him but that was a luxury forbidden to her tonight.
At Matthew's insistence, she had spent the day in their suite of rooms, venturing into the hallway only to fetch water for Katie who had responded well to the concoction of herbs brought from Sea View. Leaving the baby to attend this ball had been a triumph of need over desire for the last thing on earth she wanted was to spend any more time in this house than necessary.
The upstairs parlormaid had proved to be a most cooperative young girl and Janine's story about a clandestine meeting with a secret lover had captured the girl's romantic heart. Eager to be part of Janine's rendezvous, she had readily agreed to care for Katie while Janine was gone.
One hour ago Janine had lowered herself out the second story window and climbed down the trellis to the ground. If the Almighty was with them, the young red-haired maid was halfway to the Miller estate by now where she would deliver a handwritten letter from Matthew, complete with wax stamp, containing his urgent request for assistance.
As Matthew twirled her around the ballroom, Alexandra felt as if she were suspended between two worlds: the real world of danger and deception and this fairyland world of wealth and glamour beyond imagining. All around her danced the most elegant couples in northern California: Goulds and Stanfords, Hearsts and Athertons mingled with lesser-known luminaries whose stars were ascending higher in the San Francisco sky.
It was a tribute to Madolyn's social-climbing skills that she could attract such a splendid array of guests to such an out-of-the-way place and Alexandra was duly impressed.
At another time, in another place, she would have thrilled at the sight of the elegant ladies with their velvet trimmed Figaro jackets and their jeweled lace overskirts. White aigrette feathers delicate as spun glass adorned intricate coiffures that surely took all afternoon to assemble in such artful disarray.
And Madolyn was the most stunning hostess imaginable. As beautiful as a porcelain doll, she played up that delicate fragility by wearing an exquisite gown the color of the palest English rose with a low bodice finished with a fichu of crepe de chine. She was witty and graceful and charming to everyone and had Alexandra not seen her behavior of the previous night with her very own eyes, she would not have believed it possible.
Stephen, of course, was impeccably turned out in a black evening jacket and snowy white shirt of French batiste. His ubiquitous flower bottle was pinned to the lapel and, instead of daisies, he sported one perfect hothouse violet.
Alexandra doubted she would ever be able to enjoy the scent of violets again.
"Smile, Alex," Matthew said, following his own advice to the letter. "Let everyone see what a wonderful time you are having."
Let the Millers be at home... let them believe Janine... let them hurry!
A second hour passed.
Matthew disappeared upstairs to check on Katie and reported the parlormaid to be quite engrossed in the latest copy of Godey's Ladies Book.
A third hour vanished and still Janine did not appear.
Alexandra knew her panic showed in her eyes for she saw it reflected in Matthew's, as well. The ballroom was so crowded that it was difficult to keep track of both Stephen and Madolyn.
Ah, yes. There was Stephen, flirting shamelessly with a tiny brunette who looked to be at least a decade too young for him. But no Madolyn.
"Matthew! I do not see Madolyn anywhere."
"In this crush that is not surprising," he said soothingly, but she could feel the acceleration of his heart against her breast.
Matthew navigated them around the circumference of the dance floor. Madolyn was nowhere to be seen.
"Janine," Alexandra said, tugging at his sleeve. "She is taking too long, Matthew. Something has gone wrong—I can feel it in my bones."
"You are tired. Your imagination is running away with you."
"I beg you, go outside and see. Janine would not disappoint us this way."
"Stay here," he ordered, dancing her over to a seat near a potted Areca palm.
He disappeared through the arched doorway and Alexandra sat perfectly still, watching the dancers whirl by as she concentrated on keeping a pleasant smile upon her face. Still no sign of Madolyn. The tension within her grew more intense and once she actually thought she saw the upstairs parlormaid peer into the ballroom. Before the second waltz ended the need to check on Katie could not be denied. Matthew would simply have to understand.
She raced at breakneck speed through the long corridor leading to the main staircase. The vision of Madolyn's vacant China-blue eyes as she held Katie in her arms danced before her.
Let Katie be all right, she prayed as she kicked off her slippers and ran up the winding staircase. Let her be sleeping soundly, dreaming of her own room in her own house with her own things around her.
The door to the suite was slightly ajar. Hands trembling, Alex pushed it open and stepped inside. All seemed well. She approached the nursery and was staggered by an icy wind blowing through the broken windows by the crib.
That icy wind, however, was nothing compared to the icy fear that gripped her when she saw Madolyn standing near that open window once again with Katie in her arms.
"Madolyn?" She struggled to keep her voice calm, even though her pulses hammered at the sight of broken glass at the woman's feet "What happened?"
"It is so cold in here," Madolyn said, holding the infant close to her chest. "He's so cold."
"Come here," Alexandra said, forcing her voice to stay cool despite her galloping fear. "It is warmer by the door."
Madolyn hesitated then stepped closer to the window. Katie let out a cry of displeasure as the cold air whipped through her light pink sleeper.
"He is so cold," Madolyn crooned. "Christopher is so cold..."
Alexandra became aware of a third person in the room.
"Hello, darling girl," drawled the familiar voice of Stephen Lowell as he stepped from behind the Chinese screen at the far end of the nursery. The look he gave Alexandra was one of pure hatred. "This isn't exactly what I had planned, but it will have to do."
Madolyn looked at him and smiled. "I can't get him warm," she said, wrapping her stole around the infant. "Christopher is just like me. He feels the cold so."
Heavy footsteps grew closer and closer and she heard Matthew call out her name.
Stephen ducked behind a large dresser and in the candlelight she caught the deadly gleam of a pistol.
She glanced quickly at Madolyn, relieved to see Katie still held close to the woman's breast. Stephen aimed his pistol toward the doorway and she leaped for him, praying to knock the gun from his grasp.
The explosion screamed through the air and dimly she heard the sound of a body slumping to the floor. No! Don't think about it. It isn't really happening. Dear God, please do not let it be Matthew...
"Too much noise," Madolyn said. "This is a terrible room."
"Don't worry." Stephen's voice once again shattered her hopes. "I can help you, Madolyn."
He bent down by the bottom of the screen and suddenly orangey-red tongues of flame leaped up to devour the silk fabric and began to blaze their way toward the rest of the room.
"Madolyn, why don't you and Christopher come with me," she said, praying she could reach whatever part of the woman capable of responding. "The fire is so warm over here, so cozy and nice..."
She shuddered as the flames destroyed the wooden cradle where her daughter had just lain. Soon the fire would be out of control and—
Stephen pushed her down to the floor then raced from the room, slamming the heavy nursery door behind him. The sound of the brass lock being turned echoed in her mind, a terrifying counterpoint to the crackling of the fire as it devoured the antique dressers and toys.
Through the broken windows she heard a commotion in the courtyard below. Then, clearly, blessedly she heard Janine's voice rise above the rest.
"Janine!" The cry came from the depths of her soul. "Get help! There's a fire!"
Her attention had been diverted for but a second but in that second Madolyn moved to the windowsill and had Katie balanced precariously on the edge.
Alexandra's stomach tightened and she grabbed her middle to keep from retching.
"Madolyn, come here now! Both you and Christopher! Come here this minute!"
"You lie to me," Madolyn said in a childlike voice. "Christopher is dead. Did you not see the carriage? The blood..." Grabbing Katie's tiny wrists, she held the baby out in space.
From below Janine's scream pierced the night. A lick of flame touched the hem of her gown and Alexandra smacked it out with the heel of her hand, never taking her eyes from Madolyn and the baby.
Deep within her own agony, Madolyn let go of one of Katie's arms and the baby hung crazily in mid-air like a broken toy. Her small piteous cries tore at Alexandra's heart. "Christopher is downstairs. He wants his hot chocolate and biscuits." On her knees, she began to inch toward the woman.
Madolyn tilted her head to the side, eyeing Alexandra curiously. "He loved hot chocolate. It has been a long time since he had some."
"Cook is off today," Alexandra continued, moving ever closer. "Besides, Christopher says you make the best hot chocolate."
Just five more feet and Katie would be in her arms.
"I shouldn't have let my brother drink like that," Madolyn confided. "Papa always told him not to race the carriage when he was drinking. They have both had many accidents." She hesitated, her lovely brow furrowing. "Is he—?"
"Oh, no!" Alexandra said with a smile. "He awaits you downstairs, as well. Come along and we'll find him."
Three more feet.
Madolyn leaned over the windowsill, still holding the baby by one wrist. "Ah, yes," she said, her pale blonde hair tangled by the howling winds. "I see him." Still leaning over the sill, she turned to Alexandra with a smile that was totally guileless.
Two more feet.
She was almost there. It was going to be all right. Madolyn shifted position in order to take hold of the baby's other wrist and down below someone screamed, "Oh, my God! She's going to jump! Stop her!"
There was a resounding crash as the fire destroyed the heavy wooden door separating the master bedroom from the nursery. Madolyn turned abruptly back toward Alexandra and, as she did, her wrist hit the sharp edge of the railing. Her hand flexed wide with pain and Alexandra watched in horror as the baby slipped from her grasp.
The second Katie's downy blonde curls disappeared from view, maternal instinct took over and with a furious rush she leaped past a confused Madolyn and soared out the open window, grabbing frantically for one of Katie's plump legs.
The ground rushed up toward her as she managed to catch the edge of the nightgown and pull the child over her in a desperate attempt to cushion the blow when they hit the ground.
I love you, Matthew, she thought. I always will.
Such a short distance and yet it took so long.
Who would have imagined it took forever to fall?
#
Matthew found Janine near the edge of the woods. The maid had delivered the message to the Millers and their groom was now preparing a coach that would arrive before the party was over. All that remained was to fetch Alexandra and Katie and be off for Strawbridge's house.
Janine was talking non-stop about the thrilling staircase at their estate when Matthew caught the pungent and unmistakable smell of fire and, leaving the stunned young girl behind, he leaped a fallen pine tree and raced up the hill toward the house.
Why in hell had he allowed her to convince him to search for Janine? The maid was as dependable as the coming of the dawn. Had he half a brain, he would have stayed as close to Alex as possible, not left her alone with Madolyn and Stephen Lowell and the hundreds of faceless people who had come to drink his liquor and dance to his music. Would he spend the rest of his life making wrong choices?
Matthew reached the foot of the drive and the sight of flames bursting through a third floor window was like a sharp blow to his stomach. Madolyn leaned out of the window and the brackish taste of terror filled his mouth as he saw his daughter, his Katie, dangling helplessly out in space. Not again--not when he was so close to having everything real and true and lasting.
Guests streamed out into the yard. "We need water," one of the men yelled and a score of them ran toward the carriage house to grab buckets and form a water line. Matthew's legs were leaden; his mind, empty of everything but the memory of Christopher... of the carriage... of the scream he would never forget.
But then he saw Alex at the window, saw both her terror and her strength, and he knew that the time had come to break free of sorrow and guilt. Nothing would ever bring Christopher back to him but there was still a chance for his woman and his daughter.
Alexandra and Katie would live, if he had to sacrifice his own life to make it so.
This time he would not be denied.
#
She was falling... she'd been falling for days... tumbling head-over-heels through blackness... rushing through a dark and winding tunnel rich with the scent of pine... racing toward Matthew... toward the light....
"Alex! Open your eyes for me."
She obeyed and immediately the room filled with a blinding light and she lifted her arm to shield her eyes. "Matthew." Her voice was raspy and hoarse. "You're alive."
He grinned and touched his bandaged ribs. "Thank God for haphazard gardening."
He leaned over so she could see his face. His high cheekbones stood out in sharp relief and a growth of new beard covered his chin.
"Katie?" she whispered, her heart pounding against her broken ribs. "Is she—?"
He disappeared for the longest moment of her life and then placed their child in the crook of her arm.
A plump fist reached for Alexandra and she couldn't control the warm tears flooding her cheeks. "How?" she managed. "How are we so lucky?"
"Sleep now, Alex." He kissed away her tears. "We have the rest of our lives to figure out the answer to that question."
"Thank God," she whispered, closing her eyes. "Thank you, God."
#
Matthew watched as Alexandra drifted back into sleep, their daughter nestled against her heart. A peaceful smile lingered on her beautiful mouth and not even the pain of his broken ribs could dim the joy he felt.
The rest of his life wouldn't be long enough to understand what had happened the night of the fire. Janine called it a miracle that Katie and Alexandra had survived the fall and Matthew would not dispute that. He would never forget the power that had surged through his body when he saw his woman and his child tumble through the open window. He had broken the impact of their fall with his own body, cushioned by the heavy shrubberies along the first floor windows, and while both he and Alexandra had been injured, Katie had not.
A few broken ribs between them seemed a small price to pay for a lifetime of happiness. He touched his daughter's cheek and shivered for, in the blink of an eye, the outcome could have been vastly different, as it had been for Madolyn. Beautiful tormented Madolyn had turned from the open window and walked back into the fire. Some thought she went looking for Christopher but Matthew believed her own guilt had been so great she'd sought to end her life.
Whatever it was, Madolyn Porter McKenna was finally at peace and for the first time, Matthew was able to banish the last of his own doubts and fears. Both times he had done his best.
For Christopher his best had not been enough.
For Katie and Alex it was, and he would be forever grateful.