“My only instruction was to deliver it. Now that I’ve done that, I’ll leave you two alone.” Ian shook Tom’s hand and smiled at Abby. “Congratulations, by the way.”
“Thanks. And Ian—thanks for everything you’ve done with the estate.”
“You’re welcome.”
When he was gone Abby ripped open the sealed envelope. There was a handwritten letter on embossed stationery. That was all.
Tom pulled up a chair and sat across from her, putting his hands on her knees. “Are you okay to read it?”
She nodded, touching the old paper with her fingertips. “I think so.”
Tom’s hand tightened on her thigh. “Would you rather be alone?”
She looked up into his eyes. “No, I want you with me. We’re partners now. I don’t have any secrets.”
She unfolded Marian’s letter.
Dear Abigail,
I’m sorry you and I never got to meet. By now you’ve had time to fall in love with the house. I hope you have, anyway. It’s a very special place. Not without its secrets, of course. But I’ve always thought the secrets were part of its charm.
You’re probably wondering how the family got separated. I wish I had more complete answers for you. I remember my mother only vaguely, but I remember the emptiness I felt when she was suddenly no longer with me. I don’t know what truly happened that night, and my father would never speak her name in this house. I remember Iris, too—just a tiny baby in my memory. I always thought maybe Father couldn’t bear to look at her and that was why he sent her away. He confessed right before he died that we had different fathers, but if there was ever any evidence of it, it’s long gone.
Abby paused. Looked up at Tom. “She didn’t know. About Kristian. About Edith’s death. All of it. She must have blocked it from her mind.” It also meant that Edith’s ghost hadn’t revealed herself to her own daughter. Why had she chosen Abby?
Tom squeezed her hand and she turned back to the letter.
I want you to have this house. It can never make up for the past, but if there is a scrap of Edith—my mother—in you, it is in good hands. By the time it falls to you, I’m afraid it will need some loving care. That is why I directed Ian Martin to deliver this to you after you’ve decided to stay in Jewell Cove. If you’re staying, I know you love this house and this town as much as I did. Treasure it. Be happy in it. It needs happiness.
/> My father was a hard man, and I wish I could say I loved him but if there was any love it was born out of duty and not affection. Before he died he told me how he paid the Prescotts to take Iris and made them promise to never contact us again or else he would ruin our mother’s name. I can only assume the scandal was her infidelity.
If we had to be separated, at least she was with our family. I do wonder at times if her life didn’t end up being easier than mine. After Father died, I initiated contact between us. She’d been denied her family but so had I. Unfortunately, I think some wounds are just too deep. Iris was determined to leave this part of her life behind.
There has always been speculation about why I ran a home for unwed mothers. The truth is that I fell in love once, and with someone utterly unsuitable by Father’s standards. Father forced me to go away. The delivery was early, though, and the baby was stillborn. The complications left me unable to ever have more children. I made it my mission to help as many girls as I could—either finding good homes for their babies or helping them get started on their own. I never made a cent brokering adoptions, though I could have more than once. That’s not what it was about.
So now we come to the box. Inside you’ll find a few keepsakes I wanted to pass on especially. I’m leaving you my pearl earrings, which were the only jewels I have that were my mother’s. There are some pictures too, and knickknacks that have sentimental value—including a jewel box that someone very special made for me many years ago.
I wish you love, and happiness, and peace. It’s past time that this house had enough of all three.
All my love,
Your Aunt Marian
“She could have told me all this when I inherited the estate,” Abby said, folding up the letter and handing it to Tom. She was touched by the sincere words and emotion with which her aunt had written.
Tom skimmed the pages, holding her hand the whole while. “Wow,” he said, coming to the end. “Even Marian had her share of secrets.”
Abby smiled a little. “We might not have a pirate, but it seems there are lots of bones rattling in the Foster closet.”
“Why do you think she sent this to you now?”
Abby sighed and slid over into his lap. She leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment. “I suppose because I’d proven myself. Because I’m staying and I’m in it for the long haul.” She smiled and looked into his eyes. How she loved looking into the dark depths of them. It felt like she could see right into his soul, and he into hers.
“You definitely are,” he decreed, and he smiled, little crinkles forming at the creases of his eyes.
A movement caught her attention at the threshold of the kitchen. Edith, dressed in the same plain blue dress. But this time her lips held a secretive smile. Abby felt Tom stiffen beside her, and he swallowed thickly as Edith turned and walked away without looking back. It was, Abby realized, good-bye. And with a startling realization, Abby knew that she was going to miss her.
“That was her, wasn’t it?” Tom’s voice was low and awestruck.