Before the Scarlet Dawn

32





The door to Mr. Brennan’s study stood open a few inches, enough for Eliza to see him at his desk working and to know she was welcomed. He wore spectacles, and when he sensed her presence, he looked up from the books before him, pulled off his glasses, and stood.

“Please. Come inside.” He stepped away from his desk. “You might find it a bit austere in here, but I haven’t had . . . there is no . . .”

“I understand,” Eliza said. “But it is pleasant room. You have a magnificent view.” She crossed the room to a large bay window. Beyond it she admired the green fields dotted with sheep, and the line of thick forest in the distance. The sunlit blue sky hung cloudless.

“Indeed.” He joined her. Then he turned to her, and she to him. “Now, tell me who you are. I must call you by some name.”

She sat down in the window seat, her hands clasped. “My name is Eliza.”

He bowed short. “A lovely name. I had an aunt named Eliza. And what brought you to the fields near my house?”

“I was sent here.” She went on to explain. Eliza hung her head. “I had no idea my husband would do such a thing.”

“So you are abandoned here. You cannot go to his mother, for no doubt she will have nothing to do with you. But if you wish it, I shall write to her.”

“I am afraid that would do no good. But I thank you.” She looked at him as he stood in the light of the window. “Part of me wants to conceal my story. But if I could tell someone, it might help.” Though he was a stranger, she felt she could trust Mr. Brennan and that he would aid her in any way he could.

He sat in the chair across from her. “Where does your mother-in-law live?”

“Havendale.”

Instantly he lifted his hand away from his chin. “Havendale? I am familiar with that estate. I ministered there, at Saint Anthony’s.”

Shocked, Eliza felt her mouth drop open, and she gasped. “Then you are the clergyman who took my father’s place. He was Matthias Bloome.”

Equally surprised, Brennan scooted to the edge of his chair. “Yes. I came there after his passing. You were gone by then. I can hardly believe it.”

“And you, your wife, and five children came to live there with you. This is quite amazing, Mr. Brennan.” Oh, his loss. Again he has been reminded. But where are the other four children?

“You were told wrong, Eliza. Emily and I arrived with two children—I left with one—my son. The vicarage was destroyed in the fire. We stayed briefly with a few kind parishioners, but then I received word that my cousin, George Brennan, had left his estate to me. I am raising my son here and God willing shall see him fully-grown. Although I have no pulpit to preach from, and have retired from the church, I am able to devote myself to my studies and to give aid to those in need— like you.”

Eliza shook her head. “I am so amazed I can hardly speak, sir.”

“It is a miracle, I would say.”

Eliza clenched her hands. He, a retired clergyman, should not have a person like her in his house. “I shall leave once you have heard my story.”

“You are free to go if you wish it. But I insist you stay until you are strong enough. Now, tell me about your life, dear girl. What brought you so much sorrow, and why did your husband cast you aside?”

She bent her head and stood silent. While she rallied her courage, Brennan stared at her intently. She then poured out the course of her life, from meeting Hayward on the moor; to her journey and life at River Run; about her dear Darcy, Ilene, Fiona, and Sarah; and then Halston and her fall from grace.

Before he could prevent her, she collapsed back onto the window seat near where she had stood, and laid her head in her folded arms. Her whole frame trembled, and her tears were silent. He bade her rise, but she could not.

A few minutes went by, and then Eliza sat up and wiped her face with the back of her hand. Brennan stood at an arm’s distance, his face etched sharply with concern. “You need have no fear of being cast from this house. I shall pray the Lord gives you the peace you need.”

“I am sorry, Mr. Brennan. I did not mean to cry.”

“You miss those you love. It is understandable.”

“God has a right to punish me for what I have done.”

“And He has the right to forgive all of our sins, no matter how great or how small. Do you believe this?”

No one had asked her that before. “Yes . . . I think for the first time I do.”

“Then you must forgive yourself. I believe God has led you to Fairview for a purpose. Do not answer me now, but would you be willing to be a governess to my son? I had thought of sending him away to school, but I cannot bear the idea of him gone. I will pay you, of course, not much, but a bit for you to put by. And you will have food and lodging. And then . . . if we find a way whereby you may be with your daughter, you will have all you need to accomplish that.”

Brennan leaned toward her. “Ah, I see you are contemplating the offer. Perhaps you should meet my son.” The door drifted open, and a boy with straight brown hair poked his head around the corner. “Come in, Ethan. Meet our guest.”

Eliza thought him a handsome lad. His dark brown eyes looked straight into hers as he walked inside and stood near his father. He held out his hand and shook Eliza’s.

“This is my son, Ethan.” Brennan laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“How do you do, Ethan? You have a firm grip for a boy your age.”

“Thank you, Miss Eliza,” he said. “You were lost, and father found you?”

A quick glance at Mr. Brennan, and she smiled for the first time in many days. “It is true, Ethan. I had lost my way. But I think I may have found it again.”