Chapter 5 - The Voice of Her Father
Elena did not scream.
She wanted to.
Instead she sat very still while Rosa destroyed the story of her childhood one piece at a time.
Clara Ashcroft had survived Elena’s birth.
She had suffered a breakdown when Elena was two. That was the official story inside the family.
When Elena was four, Clara was moved to Saint Agnes Sanatorium in Connecticut.
When Elena was eight, she died there.
“Why did Father tell me she died giving birth?” Elena asked.
Rosa’s voice shook. “Because he wanted you to remember her as beautiful and innocent.”
“That is not a reason.”
“No.”
Victoria poured herself a drink.
“William wanted control of the narrative. He always did.”
Elena turned on her. “You knew my mother?”
“Very well.”
“Were you friends?”
Victoria smiled without warmth. “Once.”
Daniel looked between them. “Mother, what aren’t you saying?”
“More than you deserve to hear.”
Samuel Pike opened a narrow wooden box from his case.
Inside was a wax phonograph cylinder.
Elena stared at it.
“My father?”
Pike nodded.
“He instructed me to play this only if the second will became relevant.”
They moved to the library, where an old Edison machine sat beneath a cloth.
Pike loaded the cylinder.
The machine hissed.
Then William Ashcroft’s voice filled the room.
Elena had not heard it in four years.
Her knees nearly gave way.
“My darling Elena,” the recording began. “If you are hearing this, then someone has made your marriage dangerous.”
Daniel looked at Pike.
Victoria stopped drinking.
William continued.
“You will be tempted to believe the Whitmores are your enemies. That is only partly true.”
Elena’s heart pounded.
“Daniel Whitmore may have married you for reasons he has not confessed. Before you condemn him, ask who asked him to marry you.”
Daniel went white.
Elena turned slowly.
“No.”
He said nothing.
The recording continued.
“I did.”
Silence swallowed the room.
Elena stared at the machine.
William’s voice crackled.
“Three years before my death, I paid Daniel Whitmore to enter your life when the time was right.”
Elena looked at her husband.
“You knew my father?”
Daniel’s eyes were wet.
“Yes.”
“You were paid to meet me?”
“At first.”
Her hand moved before she thought.
The slap turned his face.
Victoria laughed softly.
Elena rounded on her. “You think this helps you?”
“No,” Victoria said. “I think it helps me because William lied to Daniel too.”
The cylinder kept turning.
William’s final words came through the static.
“Daniel, if you are listening, I am sorry. I chose you because your mother was never the greatest danger to my daughter.”
The recording ended.
Then Pike opened the wooden box again.
Beneath the cylinder was a folded contract.
Daniel recognized his own signature.
Across the top were the words:
After the recording stopped, Elena replayed one section twice. William’s voice saying, “I chose you.”
Daniel stood by the mantel like a defendant waiting for sentence.
“When did you first see me?” Elena asked.
“Your twenty-first birthday.”
“We did not meet until two years later.”
“I know.”
“You watched me for two years?”
“Not constantly.”
“That is a very poor defense.”
He almost smiled, then thought better of it. “I received reports from Pike. I attended public events. I made sure nobody from my mother’s circle got close to you.”
Elena’s stomach tightened. “So when you rescued me from that overturned motorcar outside Tarrytown?”
“I was following you.”
She remembered believing that accident was fate. Their first long conversation. Daniel’s coat around her shoulders. The way he made her laugh while rain ran into his eyes.
Now even the sweetest memory had a hidden door behind it.
“Did you arrange the accident?”
“No.”
She searched his face and believed him. That was the cruelty of it. Some of their love might be real. She just no longer knew which parts.
PROJECT MERCY — PROTECTIVE MARRIAGE AGREEMENT.
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