distraught daughter and said soothingly, “I’m as shocked as you, sweetheart. Of course, I knew—we both knew—how much he wants to go to the academy. But, my God, I never dreamed he would…” Patting her trembling back, he said, “Mary Ellen, darling, unfortunately those of the lower classes prey on people like us. There’s nothing they wouldn’t do, nothing.”
Mary Ellen sobbed heartbrokenly, “Clay’s not like that…He wouldn’t—”
Interrupting, her father said, “Have I ever lied to you?”
Ignoring the question, she said, “If he had said those horrible things, you wouldn’t have allowed him to stay and—”
“I did that for your sake. In fact, I commanded Knight to stay for dinner just as if nothing had happened. I made him swear he would say nothing to you about any of it.” He hugged her closer to his chest. “I didn’t want that black-hearted son of a bitch to be the one to tell you all this.”
“No…No!” she sobbed, refusing to believe. “Clay wouldn’t hurt me. He wouldn’t have held me in his arms and stayed…”
“He didn’t stay long. I heard you come in,” said her father. “Didn’t he make excuses to leave early?”
Confused, hurt, Mary Ellen thought back to their final moments together. She had tried to get Clay to stay. But he’d gone. For no good reason, he had left her. Had he been anxious to get away from her?
Suddenly she remembered the faint taste of liquor in his kiss. She’d never known him to drink before. Had he needed a drink to propose his ungodly bargain? Had he known, as he kissed her good night, that he was kissing her good-bye?
“I’ll ask you again, dear. Have I ever lied to you?” John Thomas said softly.
“No, but—”
“And I never will. There, there, my precious baby girl, your papa will take care of you.”
12
J OHN THOMAS PREBLE TOOK a seat in his tall-backed desk chair. He drew his weeping daughter onto his lap and held her while she cried. He rocked her just as he had when she was a child, and he cooed to her and promised he would make everything all right again.
When finally Mary Ellen had cried herself out and was so totally exhausted that she went limp against him, the powerful master of Longwood rose from his chair and carried his pale, heartsick daughter upstairs to her room.
Gently he laid her atop the high, soft featherbed and murmured, “Rest now, dear. Sleep. Sleep, my baby, and when you awaken your papa will have put an end to this terrible nightmare.”
Knowing she wouldn’t sleep, feeling as if she would never sleep again, Mary Ellen closed her puffy, red-rimmed eyes. She wanted her father to leave. She wanted to be alone. Alone with her grief.
Hoping his beloved child had cried so long and so hard she would soon be dozing peacefully, John Thomas kissed Mary Ellen’s smooth forehead, tiptoed from the room, and quietly closed the door.
Outside in the corridor, he exhaled deeply, then went in search of his wife.
“It’s done,” he told the worried Julie, ushering her into his book-lined library and closing the door. “Clayton Knight’s on his way to Baltimore, and in a couple of days you and Mary Ellen will be on your way to New York and then on to England.”
“How did she take it, John?” asked his troubled wife.
John Thomas Preble shrugged negligently. “As you would expect a starry-eyed, trusting young girl to take the betrayal of her sweetheart. At the moment Mary Ellen is devastated, but that won’t last.” He smiled confidently and touched his wife’s cheek. “A month from now she will have forgotten all about Clayton Knight.” His smile broadened when he added, “She’ll be the blushing bride of Daniel Lawton and honeymooning happily in the sunny South of France.”
Skeptical, Julie Preble said, “I don’t know, John. She’s truly fond of Clay. They’ve been soulmates since they were small children.” She paused a moment, then said, “Besides, how you can be sure Daniel
Mary Ellen sobbed heartbrokenly, “Clay’s not like that…He wouldn’t—”
Interrupting, her father said, “Have I ever lied to you?”
Ignoring the question, she said, “If he had said those horrible things, you wouldn’t have allowed him to stay and—”
“I did that for your sake. In fact, I commanded Knight to stay for dinner just as if nothing had happened. I made him swear he would say nothing to you about any of it.” He hugged her closer to his chest. “I didn’t want that black-hearted son of a bitch to be the one to tell you all this.”
“No…No!” she sobbed, refusing to believe. “Clay wouldn’t hurt me. He wouldn’t have held me in his arms and stayed…”
“He didn’t stay long. I heard you come in,” said her father. “Didn’t he make excuses to leave early?”
Confused, hurt, Mary Ellen thought back to their final moments together. She had tried to get Clay to stay. But he’d gone. For no good reason, he had left her. Had he been anxious to get away from her?
Suddenly she remembered the faint taste of liquor in his kiss. She’d never known him to drink before. Had he needed a drink to propose his ungodly bargain? Had he known, as he kissed her good night, that he was kissing her good-bye?
“I’ll ask you again, dear. Have I ever lied to you?” John Thomas said softly.
“No, but—”
“And I never will. There, there, my precious baby girl, your papa will take care of you.”
12
J OHN THOMAS PREBLE TOOK a seat in his tall-backed desk chair. He drew his weeping daughter onto his lap and held her while she cried. He rocked her just as he had when she was a child, and he cooed to her and promised he would make everything all right again.
When finally Mary Ellen had cried herself out and was so totally exhausted that she went limp against him, the powerful master of Longwood rose from his chair and carried his pale, heartsick daughter upstairs to her room.
Gently he laid her atop the high, soft featherbed and murmured, “Rest now, dear. Sleep. Sleep, my baby, and when you awaken your papa will have put an end to this terrible nightmare.”
Knowing she wouldn’t sleep, feeling as if she would never sleep again, Mary Ellen closed her puffy, red-rimmed eyes. She wanted her father to leave. She wanted to be alone. Alone with her grief.
Hoping his beloved child had cried so long and so hard she would soon be dozing peacefully, John Thomas kissed Mary Ellen’s smooth forehead, tiptoed from the room, and quietly closed the door.
Outside in the corridor, he exhaled deeply, then went in search of his wife.
“It’s done,” he told the worried Julie, ushering her into his book-lined library and closing the door. “Clayton Knight’s on his way to Baltimore, and in a couple of days you and Mary Ellen will be on your way to New York and then on to England.”
“How did she take it, John?” asked his troubled wife.
John Thomas Preble shrugged negligently. “As you would expect a starry-eyed, trusting young girl to take the betrayal of her sweetheart. At the moment Mary Ellen is devastated, but that won’t last.” He smiled confidently and touched his wife’s cheek. “A month from now she will have forgotten all about Clayton Knight.” His smile broadened when he added, “She’ll be the blushing bride of Daniel Lawton and honeymooning happily in the sunny South of France.”
Skeptical, Julie Preble said, “I don’t know, John. She’s truly fond of Clay. They’ve been soulmates since they were small children.” She paused a moment, then said, “Besides, how you can be sure Daniel
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