19

My darling girl,” Augusta said as Doc ushered Hattie through her front door. She looked at Hattie’s split lip and held her arms out, wishing the lip was the worst of it. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

For the first time in Augusta’s memory, Hattie walked into her arms, clung to her, and wept. It was rare to see her cry at all, and the deep, wrenching sobs shaking her frame broke Augusta’s heart into a million pieces and nearly brought her to her knees. She smoothed her hands down the luxuriant wealth of Hattie’s hair and held her tightly.

Doc set Hattie’s dress box on the foyer floor and gestured that he was leaving. Augusta mouthed her thanks. The door closed behind him and they were left alone at the foot of the stairs.

“I am so sorry I disgraced you, Aunt Augusta,” Hattie sobbed into the powdered contour of her guardian’s neck.

Augusta stiffened and, clamping Hattie’s shoulders in her hands, stepped back to hold her niece at arm’s length. “I don’t ever want to hear such talk from you again, Hattie Witherspoon Taylor,” she commanded, staring into her ward’s red-rimmed eyes. “What happened to you should never happen to any woman—and you certainly could not control it. I absolutely refuse to let you be shamed by it. What that man did was criminal, and if it wouldn’t ruin you in the process, I would see to it he was punished to the full extent of the law.”

She put an arm around Hattie’s shoulders and ushered her up the stairs, continuing fiercely. “Do not think Roger Lord will be allowed to get off scot-free, though, my dear. I have already placed a call to him.”

Hattie’s amber eyes flared with sudden panic and she stopped in the middle of the hall. “Oh, Aunt Augusta, I wish you hadn’t done that.” She was ashamed of her craven desire to keep her attack private, but she simply didn’t think she could bear it if it became public knowledge. “Central always listens in.”

“I know they do, dear.” Gently, she urged Hattie down the hall. “I counted on it. Don’t worry, darling, your name was never mentioned. I simply informed Roger he was most unwelcome at Jane-Ellen’s funeral tomorrow and that his services were no longer required as my lawyer.” Her heart still accelerated with fury at the remembrance of Roger Lord’s surprise. Had he thought he could just abuse her ward in the vilest manner possible and have it overlooked? “That will start the grapevine humming.”

“Good.” For the first time since her attack, Hattie felt a faint semblance of her old fire. “I hope they conclude you’ve discovered something truly awful about him. I hope he is shunned in the streets.” As she would be if the truth came out.

“Oh, I intend to make sure of it,” Augusta said resolutely as she turned down the spread and helped Hattie into a clean night rail and into bed. “Doc gave me the idea. We’re going to bury him in rumors. It’s only fair that for once they be directed at someone who truly deserves it. The only thing that worries me is Jacob will hear of it and want to know what is going on. Well!” She waved that away. “We will worry about that when and if we come to it.”

Hattie’s reborn fire cooled considerably at the mention of Jake. It was largely thanks to him she was no longer pure. Now the very thing the gossips had speculated about this past year was true. Not that she was a girl of easy virtue. But she’d always had the knowledge of her own virginity to bolster her when the rumors flew. Now, however, thanks to Jake’s refusal to listen to her, her claim to purity had been ripped from her. “I don’t care whether he hears or not,” she said flatly. But even as she said it she knew she cared terribly. “Yes, I do,” she admitted with her usual honesty. “I think I would die if he knew.”

Augusta, tenderly sweeping a tendril of hair from Hattie’s forehead, thought this was the first time she’d ever heard Hattie utter words that sounded like something her peers would say.

“Aunt Augusta?” Hattie shifted uncomfortably. “What if I quicken?” The violent act Roger Lord had forced on her had not been anything like what she’d imagined when Jake explained procreation to her. But the mechanics were the same. She was very much afraid she might bring shame to the Murdock name after all.

“That won’t happen, dear.” Augusta stilled the perturbed movements of Hattie’s fingers as they plucked the embroidered doves on the pillowcase. “Do you remember when you were twelve and Jacob explained about the seed and the egg?” At Hattie’s nod, Augusta forced herself to continue levelly even as her face grew hot. “Well, Doc said he found no evidence of Roger Lord’s seed, so you clearly used those scissors in a timely manner. There will be no child.”

Hattie sagged with relief. “Oh, thank God. I was worried.”

Augusta sat with Hattie until her ward’s eyelids began to droop. Not until the young woman fell into a deep sleep did she go downstairs. Mirabel came into the parlor wiping her hands on a tea towel seconds later, and Augusta filled her in on the details. Not sharing this latest tragedy never occurred to her—Mirabel had been her confidante for more than forty years, and she’d suffer untold torture rather than divulge a Murdock secret. Also, Augusta knew good and well Mirabel loved Hattie every bit as much as she did.

They had only begun to sip their cooling tea when the front door banged open, then was slammed shut. Augusta met Mirabel’s eyes and her friend made a discreet exit. Augusta set the other woman’s cup and saucer on the service tray as Jake stormed into the room.

“Where’s Hattie?”

“Keep your voice down, Jacob,” Augusta remonstrated. “She’s asleep.”

“Doc said she was ill when I called to ask him to meet your train.” Jake ran a hand through his hair. “I was delivering a foal or I would have been here sooner. Is it serious?” He’d been a wreck all afternoon, worrying.

“It’s a female problem, Jacob,” Augusta said repressively.

He sagged with relief as he sank into a chair. “Yeah. That’s what Doc said.” But his father-in-law’s voice had been uncharacteristically cool, and Jake had wondered if he was trying to shield him from the knowledge of a more serious ailment. “Do you have another cup? I could use some of that.” He hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since the night in the hall.

“Certainly.” Augusta poured. She watched while he devoured several of the dainty sandwiches she couldn’t swallow. When he lounged back in the corner of the davenport with his second cup of tea, she said, “While I was gone, Jacob, I did some thinking. I would very much like it if you would take control of the family affairs.”

Jake slowly eased upright and set his cup on a nearby table. Praying the timing wasn’t too obvious, Augusta rushed to say, “I always intended to turn everything over to you, but when you dropped most of your practice—”

His clear, dark eyes studied her face intently. “You’re not ill, are you, Mother?”

“Oh, darling, no!” She hated that he worried but was relieved he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. Better than asking why she was suddenly intent on dropping Roger Lord. She patted his hand. “I suppose seeing so many Witherspoons in San Francisco made me think of family.”

“What about Roger?”

Augusta poured every ounce of iron discipline into maintaining her facial expression. “I’m sure he will understand, dear. I did warn him, years ago, you would one day handle all my affairs. But if it’s too much?”

“No, of course not. I’ll see to it next week.”

“Good, because I already called to tell him as much.”

They talked for a short while longer before Jake got up to leave. He asked to look in on Hattie before he went, but Augusta vetoed the idea. It was probably the first time in her life she was relieved to see her son leave her home. Blowing out a sigh, she turned away from the door. Rubbing the ache in her temples, she echoed Doc’s sentiments.

Dear Lord. What a god-awful mess.