The Secret Heiress

“Mr. Maddox?”

“Still here,” he said with a wry note in his voice.

“What was that?” She clutched his arm as they rose to their feet.

“Not sure.” Quickly orienting himself to the dark, he led her to the window and drew back the curtain. Outside, the answer was clear. A huge oak tree a couple yards from the house had been split in two by lightning. Half of the tree’s charred remains had landed across the power lines. Sparks danced from the exposed wires torn from their fasteners. The other half of the tree landed in the driveway, effectively blocking the rental car.

Caution traipsed up his spine. What were the chances that lightning would strike that tree causing it to fall in exactly that way? He wanted to inspect the trunk. But that would have to wait until he had Caroline in a secure location.

“I guess the option of leaving before the storm gets worse is off the table,” Caroline murmured.

“We can borrow a car.”

She made a scoffing noise. “No.”

“Roger that.” Of course she wouldn’t give in that easily.

Horace appeared in the doorway carrying a lit candle. The glow pushed the shadows to the corners. “Mr. Maddox?”

“We’re okay here,” Elijah answered from the bed. “The others?”

“Everyone is accounted for, sir.” He moved all the way into the room to offer Don a pewter candleholder with a thick unlit candle in the center. “Just until the backup generator kicks in.”

Don took the holder, tipping it so the wick could touch the lit one in Horace’s hand. “Is the power out in the whole house?”

Horace nodded. “Yes. Phone lines down, too. Mrs. Maddox would like to meet you downstairs.” From the research, Don knew that must be Abigail Maddox, the wife of Caroline’s uncle Samuel.

“I don’t think we should leave Mr. Maddox,” Caroline said.

From the bed, Elijah said, “Go on, child. I’m tired and need to rest. Mary will be along shortly to keep me company.”

“Nothing can be done at the moment,” Don stated in a low voice.

“We’ll return shortly,” Caroline assured her grandfather.

Elijah nodded, but his gaze narrowed to Don. “Keep her safe.”

“Of course,” Don replied.

They followed Horace downstairs. When they hit the entryway, quick footsteps coming down the hall heralded the arrival of a stylish woman in her early forties wearing tailored black slacks, a pink cashmere sweater and pearls. Her light blond hair was coiffed in an elegant updo. She carried a lit hurricane lamp that added a bright glow to Don’s candle.

The woman came to a stop in front of Caroline. “You look just like Isabella,” she said in clipped modulated tones, her eyes assessing.

Hearing of her likeness to Isabella from this woman was different than hearing it from Elijah. There was no sentiment in Abigail’s matter-of-fact tone. Just a statement of fact that left Caroline feeling hollow. Elijah had clearly loved his daughter, but there was no indication of warmth or affection coming from her sister-in-law.

“This is Caroline Tully and I’m Don Cavanaugh. Her fiancé,” Don said after a tense heartbeat. “And you are?”

“Abigail Maddox.” Gesturing to the teens coming down the stairs, she said, “My children, Landon and Lilly. Fraternal twins.”

Finding her voice, Caroline said, “Nice to meet you.”

“Children, please go out and retrieve…your cousin and her fiancé’s travel cases and bring them in,” Abigail said.

Caroline’s stomach clenched. Cousins. She’d always wanted cousins. Neither of her adopted parents had siblings. But surely they shouldn’t be sent out into the storm. Lightning had just struck.

The twins’ eyebrows dipped in tandem.

“That’s Horace’s job, Mother,” Landon whined.

Lilly crossed her arms over her chest. “And it’s almost time for dinner!”

“The bags can wait,” Don said. “It’s not safe out there right now.”

Impatience flashed across Abigail’s face. “Please. It’s just a storm. I’m sure you’d like to freshen up before dinner.” Her green eyes narrowed on her children. “Do it.”

Caroline flinched and exchanged a glance with Don. Aunt Abigail certainly wasn’t the warm and fuzzy type.

Landon’s shoulders slumped. “Fine.” He turned his dark-eyed gaze to Don. “Where are your bags?”

Don held out the keys to the rental. “The trunk.”

Landon took the keys and headed toward the door.

His sister stood rooted in place, her hazel gaze studying Caroline. “Why are you here?”

“Lilly, don’t be rude. Your granddad invited them. She’s here to get to know her family.”

The girl snorted her disapproval. “More like she wants his money.”

“No, I don’t,” Caroline blurted quickly. “That’s not why I’m here at all.” She turned her gaze to Abigail. “I just want to know where I came from.”

“Of course, you do,” Abigail said, exaggerated understanding lacing her words. “Don’t pay them any mind.”

Landon pulled open the front door. He glared at his sister.

“Come on, Lilly. You have to help.”

Abruptly, Lilly turned and followed her brother out into the rain.

Abigail let out a long-suffering sigh. “I can’t wait until they outgrow the surly stage.”

Caroline gave a silent sigh of her own. She didn’t want to explain her reason for being here any further to her increasingly worrisome relatives.

A middle-age man came out of the adjacent room. “I see our guests have arrived,” his deep voice boomed.

“Yes, darling,” Abigail said. “Come meet your niece and her young man.”

He held out his hand to Don first. “Samuel Maddox.”

“Donovan Cavanaugh. Call me Don.”

“Good of you to come, Don.” Samuel turned his attention to Caroline with a welcoming smile. “I’m so happy to meet you, Caroline.”

As she shook his hand, she couldn’t help staring into his amber eyes and feeling like she was looking in a mirror. He had raven-colored hair and an olive complexion, much like her own. A blood relative. Her uncle.

“Where are those kids?” Abigail gestured toward the front door with a graceful, bejeweled hand. “Sam, darling, the children are supposed to be bringing in our guests’ bags. I’m afraid they may have gotten distracted by the split oak.”

The front door burst open on her last word and the twins stumbled in tugging the suitcases behind them. The sound of heavy rain pelting the earth filled the entryway until Lilly slammed the door shut. Pervading humidity made the house damp like a mausoleum. The teens shook their heads, like shaggy dogs, spraying water on everything within reach of the flying droplets.

Abigail said nothing to the twins, though her lips pursed in disapproval. Instead, she turned back to Caroline and Don. “Come, I’ll show you to your rooms.”

Don handed Caroline the candle, then he grabbed the cases and followed behind. The second story was decorated much like the downstairs—once-elegant furnishings worn bare and shabby. As they passed the open door of one room, Caroline glanced in. Aided by the glow from the candle she carried, she caught the brief impression of cotton-candy-pink walls and ruffles. Most certainly Lilly’s domain. Yet the girl didn’t seem like the frilly type.

Abigail led them to the end of the hall and stopped before a closed door. “Mr. Cavanaugh, you’ll stay here. Caroline, you will be over here.” She moved to the closed door directly across the hall and pushed the door open with a flourish.

Caroline entered to find a beautiful four-poster canopy bed with white linens, a dresser and a vanity and spindle chair. A bench seat stretched beneath the window overlooking the back of the property.

Don set her suitcase on the floor just inside the door. A flash of lightning, lit up the window, making the delicate lace window coverings appear translucent. A second later thunder rumbled. Caroline noticed Don’s slight flinch. She was glad they’d made it to the house before the storm had worsened.

“As soon as you come back downstairs we’ll serve dinner,” Abigail said, clearly unperturbed by the raging weather outside.

Caroline waited until the other woman was out of earshot to whisper to Don, “I hate to think that one of these people wants me and my grandfather dead.”

“Your uncle has the most to gain with you out of the way,” Don stated. “He’d be the sole heir apparent.”

She swallowed back the unease clogging her throat.

Her uncle had greeted her with such warmth. He, like Elijah, had seemed truly glad to see her. Was it all an act? She’d have to use her time here to find the truth. It was the only way she could be safe—and the only way to help her grandfather. Elijah Maddox needed someone to believe him. Someone to protect him. And with her private bodyguard/fake fiancé’s help, she was that someone. And maybe while she searched for answers, she’d be able to learn about her mother, as well—something she’d wanted to do for as long as she could remember.

Despite the apparent danger, she was staying.

Don escorted Caroline to the dining room to find the family already seated at the formal table. Three tall candelabras spaced equal distances apart on the table provided barely adequate light.

Two empty places awaited them. Sensing tension as thick as mortar smoke, Don curbed his desire to whisk Caroline out of the creepy place and instead held out the empty chair next to her uncle at the far end of the table. Landon sat in the chair next to her. Don rounded the table to sit across from Caroline on Samuel’s left next to Lilly. Abigail sat at the opposite end of the table. Gold-rimmed china gleamed in the candlelight.

“Lucky for us, dinner was ready before the power went down,” Abigail said.

“Horace mentioned there was a back-up generator?” Don asked.

“Yes, in the cellar,” Samuel answered. “It’s gas powered. I told Horace it could wait until after dinner.”

“Dining by candlelight is such a treat,” Abigail said. “Don’t you agree, Caroline?”

“The candles certainly add ambiance,” Caroline replied.

An older woman emerged from a swinging door carrying a steaming platter of vegetables, Horace followed with a platter of sliced roast beef.

“Asparagus? Ugh,” Landon whined as the woman placed the green spears on his plate.

“Mind your manners, young man,” Samuel said.

Landon shot a venomous glance toward Caroline, as if she were to blame for the vegetables. Perhaps the kids were not required to eat veggies regularly. Still, the animosity coming off the kid grated on Don. He pinned the boy with a stare until Landon noticed and dropped his gaze to his plate.

“Elijah’s illness, was it sudden?” Don asked Samuel, trying to gage his reaction.

A look of sadness passed over the older man’s face. “This fall he suffered a nasty bout of pneumonia. According to Dr. Reese, the pneumonia triggered an Addison crisis.”

“His body attacked his glands and chewed ’em up like mini, hungry carnivores,” Lilly said with relish before stabbing a chunk of meat and devouring it in one bite.

“Gross,” Landon complained, dropping his fork with a clatter.

“Lilly, that’s enough,” Abigail commanded.

“But it’s true,” she countered with a smirk at her brother.

“Yes, it’s true,” Samuel said. “Father’s body attacked his adrenal glands. It’s an autoimmune disease.”

Samuel had confirmed what Elijah had said. Don knew very little of the disease but he did know that with proper treatment, people who had it could live fairly normal lives. It didn’t make sense that Elijah was still so sick.

“Dr. Reese has tried everything to bring the disease under control, but my father’s body isn’t cooperating.” The sadness in Samuel’s eyes appeared genuine. But it could have been a trick of the flickering candle flame.

Don met Caroline’s gaze across the table. Candlelight shadowed the contours of her pretty face but he could see her unspoken concern. Was someone slowly killing Elijah, or was he dying a natural death?

As soon as he could, Don would contact Dr. Reese and find out. But the old man wasn’t Don’s primary concern.

Caroline needed him to protect her. He’d promised. And he never broke a promise.

Even though his gut instinct screamed for him to get Caroline away from the ominous events unfolding around them.

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