HOME OF THE RED FOX - Segment Fifteen

Chapter 71

         The three adults sat comfortably on the floor as Samantha started to read from the first journal. “This starts with an entry dated September 23, 1903,” she told them. “It’s written by Mrs. Edgeworth.”

         “We moved into this monstrosity two days ago. I know Jason is proud of his new mansion, but I do miss Derbyshire so much and our charming home there. However, my husband always gets his way, so here we are. The ride from England on the ship was long and tedious, and I suffered from what I thought was seasickness the whole trip. On checking yesterday with what passes here for a doctor, I found out I am with child. Jason, of course, was ecstatic but demanded I produce a son, as if I had any control over it or anything else.”

         Jack shook his head in amazement. “She sure sounds like an unhappy woman, doesn’t she?” The others agreed, and Samantha returned to reading the journal.

         “There’s no more for that particular day, and the second entry isn’t until about a month later.”

         “The weather here in America has been dreadful, snowing every day since we arrived. At least, though, I’m no longer sick in the morning. Jason spends most of his days in his office, leaving me to freeze from the cold.”

         “I’m glad my contractor figured out how to heat the building,” interrupted Walker, trying to imagine what it must have been like back in those days. “Sorry, Sam, go on. I wonder when her baby was due, though, and if it was Hannah.”

         Samantha flipped through the journal for a few pages until she found what she was looking for. “Well, she gave birth to a little girl on March 12, 1904, according to an entry made two days afterwards.” She looked up from the journal when she realized what she had just read. “Why, that’s…,” and suddenly stopped.

         “That’s what?” asked Jack. Walker remembered Sam’s birthday was also on March 12th. Even though it was still a few months away, he was already planning a party.

         “Nothing, Jack.” Samantha returned to the journal and opened it to the last page. “This one ends on January 5th of 1905.”

         “Hannah is growing fast and thriving in such a cold, dreary place. Nancy, her wet nurse from the nearby town, dotes on the child, maybe too much. I must speak to her about taking her outside without telling me first. My husband still insists on locking himself away in his office, although lately he’s started disappearing some place where I can’t find him. A most annoying trait, especially when I need to talk with him about the lazy maids or boorish cook. I do wish we’d brought over our other household staff from England. Jason promises when Hannah is older we can return to Derbyshire to visit our families. Of course, he rarely keeps his promises, but maybe he will this time.”

         “Why don’t you skip forward a bit through the other journals?” suggested Jack. “Maybe to one dated when Hannah was around five years old, probably written in 1909.” He was hoping for some clue about whether the bone belonged to Hannah, and, if so, how she died.

         “All right,” Samantha agreed. She reached for and thumbed through the third journal in the stack. “The last entry here was on May 19, 1908. Hannah would be about four.” She first read it to herself, and said, “Very curious.”

         “What now, Sam?” Walker found himself caught up in the lives of the Edgeworth family and wanted to know more about them, especially the little girl.

         “She’s writing about her child, but not Hannah. It’s a boy named Colin, same as our recent visitor from England.” Samantha started reading it again, this time out loud.

         “Colin kept me up for hours with his crying from the room next to mine. With Nancy sleeping here at night, behavior like that should not be happening. It’s time to have Jason speak to her. She spends too much time with the other child and ignores Colin whenever possible. Jason says I’m imagining the crying, but he doesn’t hear it from his bedroom at the other end of the hall. I’m honestly glad to have had Colin, though. Finally getting a son means Jason no longer comes to my room at night.”

         “By the other child, she must mean Hannah.” Walker felt sorry for these two children, even though they died years ago. He had been fortunate with two mothers loving him, and these kids evidently had one who did not care for them at all.

         Samantha turned to the last of the journals. The entries she read next would shock and sadden these adults. Some of their questions about the death of the small child, however, still would go unanswered.

Chapter 72

         Samantha found an entry, dated July 26, 1911, which finally mentioned Hannah. After reading it silently, she looked over at the two men who were waiting. The sorrow in her eyes had them dreading what she would say next.

         “Hannah would have just turned seven a few months earlier when Mrs. Edgeworth wrote the entry.” Samantha hesitated before she started reading.

         “It’s been a week since Hannah disappeared. The staff first searched the house from top to bottom without finding her, and Jason finally called in the police. His concern for Hannah surprised me because, since Colin’s birth, he’s ignored her. For the last year, only Colin was important to him. My little girl might as well not have been born. The police first questioned Nancy. They didn’t arrest her after Jason gave her an alibi. Evidently, those two have been lovers for years, and they were together in his room the night Hannah disappeared.”

         “Well, there goes my theory,” said Jack, quietly. “I had the father down for murdering his daughter.” He looked over at Samantha, “Go on. What else did she write?”

         Samantha went forward a couple pages. “There’s nothing else that day. However, here’s something interesting a month later about Hannah.”

         “Everyone has given up the search for my Hannah, but I somehow feel she’s close by. Maybe she wandered outside during the night and became lost. My baby was out there, hurt and waiting for us to find her, and we didn’t look hard enough. I sit in her room, staring at her toys and small bed, and can’t stop crying. She deserved a better mother than I was, and I know I failed her in so many ways.”

         Tears came to Samantha’s eyes as she felt the pain of the other woman coming through the words. When she turned to the end of the journal, she said softly, “The last entry was written October 20, 1911.” Her voice trembled as she realized what she was reading.

          “Jason insists we take a trip back to England to visit our families. All hope for finding Hannah is gone, and he says it’s not healthy for me to sit brooding in her room. Since Colin is over three years old, he is strong enough to travel safely. Our ship leaves New York next week, and we’ll be staying with Jason’s mother for the next few months. His father died years ago, but he needs to go back and take care of estate business. He says Nancy has to come with us as she still Colin’s nanny. However, I know that’s not why. Everyone knows they are still lovers, and I can’t bear the looks the staff gives me. Perhaps it will be different in England.”

         “The bastard,” muttered Walker. Samantha ignored him and kept reading.

         “Jason is sending me back home after the visit while he stays in England with Colin and, of course, Nancy. They’ll follow me back to here to America, probably at the end of next year.”

         Jack looked thoughtful, “I wonder why she didn’t continue writing in her journals.”

         “Maybe this will explain it,” Samantha said sadly, reading the last part written.

          “The only part of the whole trip I’ll enjoy is leaving them, even if it’s only for a few months. Jason has arranged for me to travel first from Derbyshire to Southampton where I’ll catch the ship sailing for New York the middle of April. It should be an interesting trip as it’s the ship’s maiden voyage.”

         Walker and Jack looked at her in horror when Samantha whispered the last sentence from the journal.

         “The ship’s name is Titanic.”

Chapter 73

         After the discovery of Mrs. Edgeworth’s diary, day after day passed uneventfully for most of the residents of the mansion. Late one afternoon, a gentle breeze caressed the mansion’s walls, seeking entrance through any stray crevice between the stones. Inside, Estelle sat in the rocking chair by the window, although her mind was miles and years away. Last night's television show about New England had brought back memories of her childhood in Maine. The old woman once again was a young child, at least in her thoughts.

         "Estelle, have you been down bothering the people at the lighthouse again?” These scolding words from her mother caused the 10-year-old girl to shake her head in denial.

         "I'm not bothering them, Mama," Estelle quickly replied. "They said I could visit any time I wanted."

         "Child, what is it about the old building you find so attractive? I know the lighthouse is beautiful. Being so close to the water, though, it's much too dangerous for you to play near.” Her mother looked off in the distance towards the harbor where the lighthouse was located.

         Ever since Estelle's family moved to within a mile of the lighthouse, the ocean's shore with its crashing waves drew the child like a magnet. The lighthouse keeper and his wife, an older childless couple, often would visit Estelle's family in the evening. After supper, they would spin tales of shipwrecks and pirates to the impressionable child. One Christmas when Estelle was 17, her mother received a beautifully crafted quilt from the lighthouse keeper's wife. The teenage girl treasured it after her mother's death years later.

         It was a unique quilt made from old hurricane warning flags and currently rested over the legs of the old woman. The years of the woman were winding down, and she looked forward to death. She had led a long and full life, loving one man for over 60 years and raising five healthy children. Today, two months away from turning 90, she had outlived all her family members and most of her friends. Her memory, however, of her wedding day made it seem as if it were only yesterday.

         The lighthouse made a perfect background for the wedding. Estelle and her beau, David, had spent many an evening there watching midnight submarine races, as it is sometimes called today. Sitting there on the dark, deserted peninsula at the foot of the tall building, they knew they were safe under the watchful eyes of the lighthouse keeper and his wife.

         It was there one warm June evening when Estelle had received a beautiful diamond ring from David. The only ones to see their innocent kiss as she accepted his proposal of marriage were a few night birds circling overhead.

         The day of the wedding, town folks walked or drove out to the lighthouse, a place they rarely visited. Fragrant garlands of flowers circled the round building, and picnic tables with benches had been scattered around it. Under an arbor covered with yellow roses, Estelle and David pledged their undying love before friends and family, a love that lasted for the next six decades.

         When her beloved husband died at the age of 80 after a short and painless illness, Estelle made her last trip with him to the lighthouse. After driving her out there once more, her children respected the moment of privacy. They stood at the end of the long driveway watching their elderly mother slowly leave them and walk past the deserted building. She carried the silver urn close to her body, reluctant to let go of his remains. Finally, at the edge of the cliff leading down to the ocean, she said a silent prayer before sadly tossing David’s ashes into the wind.

         The wildly blowing wind suddenly softened to a gentle breeze to carrying the ashes up and out over the waves. “Soon, David, soon I’ll be with you, my love.” These words followed the ashes while the old woman listened one more time to the winds, the waves, and the birds as she had all her life. As if answering her from above, the foghorn warned off passing ships. With the fog rolling in off the ocean, and the air turning cold, Estelle turned her back on the ocean for the last time.

         Her children soon traveled to distant parts of the world in search of their own lives and passed away one by one in the next few years. Alone for the first time in her adult life, the old woman moved to the town’s retirement village, where one of Walker’s recruiters discovered her. From that day on, she enjoyed the company of Walker, his caring staff, and the other guests. She never forgot the days she spent at the lighthouse, though, or her beloved husband.

         Sitting there by her living room window in the mansion, rocking back and forth, she could almost hear the mournful sound of the old lighthouse's foghorn. Her eyes closed, and the rocking gradually slowed and finally stopped. Her soft breathing was the only sound in the room, and it too soon stopped.

         Estelle was the first person to die at the mansion. Over the years, there would be many more. Each would have their life celebrated and their death respected in accordance with their written instructions. Walker himself carried Estelle’s ashes back to Maine and reverently scattered them at the base of the lighthouse.

         Out by the ocean's shore, a woman and man danced in the wind. They and the lighthouse were young and strong again. All would remain so until the end of time.

Chapter 74

         Samantha noticed the man immediately. He stood at the front desk, nonchalantly looking around. Howard Newton was used to women staring at him. Even at the age of 75, he retained his good looks. Under his arm, Samantha could see a copy of Franklin’s book about the mansion.

         “May I help you?” she asked, approaching the front desk. The clerk was currently busy signing for a FedEx package.

         “Yes, I’m looking for Edith Cartwright.” He opened the book to the picture of Edith looking at Walker and his two wards. “I’m an old friend of hers and just found out she’s living here.” He read out loud the caption printed under the picture, “Edith Cartwright with son and grandchildren.” Technically, Sue Beth and Joshua were not her grandchildren, even though this was how everyone at the mansion thought of them.

         “May I tell her who is looking for her?” Samantha asked, for she knew Walker’s rule one. It was always to first make sure the guest wanted to see the visitor.

         “Just tell her an old beau of hers, Howard Newton.” He smiled at her, causing Samantha to frown for just an instant. The frown disappeared from her face even before the man saw it. He looked familiar in some way, although she also felt he was not someone she wanted to know better.

         Turning to the desk clerk who no longer was busy, Samantha said softly, “Can you find Edith? Have her call me on my cell phone. I want to know whether she wants to see a Mr. Howard Newton.” Samantha felt Mr. Newton might not be welcome here.

         “Why don’t you wait for Edith over by the sofa?” She might not like the man, but Samantha always tried to be polite. “I’m sure we’ll find her soon.” She guided him to the sofa and returned to the desk to wait for Edith’s call.

         Ten minutes later, her cell phone vibrated. Making sure the man was not within earshot, she answered the phone.

         Edith’s voice came through clearly. Samantha could hear a slight tremor in it as she said, “I don’t think I want to see him.” The younger woman knew her instincts were right when Edith continued, “Please ask him to go away. It’s too late, much too late.” She said her next words through what sounded like tears, “Please make him go away, Samantha, please.” Edith hung up before she could answer her.

         Samantha was unsure how to proceed. Luckily, she saw Walker coming down the stairs next to the elevator on the opposite side of the room. He walked towards her, glancing without much interest at the older man sitting on the sofa. The man stood up, so Samantha headed for the middle of the room and the two men. She suddenly stopped a few feet away, as what she saw so clearly sunk in.

         “I’m here to see Edith Cartwright,” she heard the stranger say to her unsuspecting employer. “My name’s Howard Newton. You must be William Walker.” He spoke in a friendly manner, extending his hand in welcome.

         “Yes,” responded Walker, shaking hands with the other man. “Has anyone located Edith yet?” He looked over and saw Samantha standing at a distance from them. “Sam?”

         Samantha smiled at the men, and said, “Walker, may I speak to you privately?”

         “Of course, Sam. Mr. Newton, please excuse me.” Walker went to where Samantha was waiting and followed her, as she moved further away from the sofa. “Is something wrong?” he asked, as soon as they were standing by the front desk.

         “Well, I’ve already heard from Edith, and she doesn’t want to talk to him.” She looked at Walker for help. “I’m not sure how to handle this since she’s your mother.”

         “Did she tell you why? Do you know who he is?” Edith’s refusal surprised Walker. Since coming to live at the mansion, she had always gotten along with everyone.

         “Ah, no, but she probably has a good reason. Mr. Newton did say he was an old beau of hers.” Samantha was not going to be the one to tell Walker anything more.

Chapter 75

         Walker looked over at the stranger waiting by the sofa. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the elevator door opening. His mother stepped out and shook her head in a warning not to say anything.

         "Sam," he said quietly, "would you go talk with Edith?” Samantha followed his gaze and saw the older woman trying to hide from view in the third corridor by the elevator. "Maybe you can find out what's wrong. I'll go keep Mr. Newton busy until you get back."

         Without acknowledging his request, she headed across the large room towards Edith. Passing Mr. Newton, she gave him a friendly nod and kept walking. Close behind her, Walker tried to keep the worry about his mother from showing on his face.

         "Mr. Newton," he said, as he reached the sofa. "I've been told Ms. Cartwright is indisposed at the moment and can't see any visitors.” That little white lie was the standard excuse given to unwelcome people, but the other man seemed satisfied.

         ”Well," the stranger replied seriously. "It's you I need to see, anyway."

         "Me? May I ask why?” Walker was curious, though not overly so. Once he started taking in his guests, many of their relatives came out of the woodwork. Most thought to share in the many benefits Walker generously handed out. Others threatened to make trouble for Walker for various reasons. He had a large legal firm to call on for any problems related to his philanthropic way of life. So far, the lawyers were worth everything Walker paid them, and it was a substantial amount.

         He waited for the man to answer him. Walker was facing the far side of the room and could see Samantha and Edith quietly talking. He could not hear what they were saying, but Edith looked upset. Who is he? Wondering this, he looked more closely at Mr. Newton. He seemed familiar, although Walker knew they had never met before.

         "Edie and I go back a long way," Mr. Newton continued, with what appeared to Walker to be a slight leer on his face, "if you know what I mean."

         "No, I'm afraid I don't. Why don't you explain?” Walker was starting to dislike Mr. Newton and his innuendos. He narrowed his eyes to stare back at the older man, daring him to continue insulting Edith.

         "Please call me Howard…for now.” The strange comment caused Walker to take a step backwards, as a sudden suspicion crept into his mind. He glanced over towards the two women, and then returned his attention back to the man facing him.

         "Okay, Mr. Newton, what may I do for you?” Walker bluntly ignored his invitation to be more informal.

         Howard Newton sat down on the sofa and waited for Walker to join him. When he leaned back nonchalantly, Walker got the distinct impression Newton, for some reason, felt he held a winning hand.

         Howard finally asked, "How old are you?"

         "Why is my age of interest to you?"

         "I'm guessing you're in your 50s, right?” Howard took a cigar out of his vest pocket and was about to light it. This was despite the large sign near the front desk asking people to not smoke anywhere on the first floor. Walker had nothing against smoking, but he knew it was not good for the health of his guests and staff. If they wanted to smoke in their own living quarters, they had every right to do so.

         "Sir," he politely said, "I must ask you not to light your cigar. There's no smoking allowed here.” The other man's hand stopped with the match still unlit, and he was slow to remove the cigar from his mouth. Walker watched him debating whether to put it back in his pocket or not, but eventually he did.

         "Am I right about your age?” Howard relentlessly pushed for an answer.

         "I'll be 51 in August, on the 26th. Again, why do you want to know?"

         "Well, son," Howard answered, stressing the last word, "I guess Edie didn't have an abortion after all."

Continued in next segment.

HOME OF THE RED FOX - Segment Sixteen  (18+) Chapters 76 thru 80 #1082894 by J. A. Buxton