ʙʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴀᴡɴ

Chapter 22

Victoria made steady progress and the Barnes family came day-to-day for visits; Ivona and Liam went on their routine afternoon. The day before, Pamela was in attendance as instructed by Michael in case Ivona and Liam were in need of anything. Ivona had rebuffed Pamela's coming but Michael insisted. A wink came from her father and that was the only thing that held her lips from further protests.

Anyway, she and Pamela had talked about the twins, Liam—in short, the entire Hunter household. She talked about Margaret luring the twins into the kitchen just to keep an eye on them, Julian's hysterical tales; the recent about Conner O'Fleil screaming all the way from the post office, saying he had seen the picture of Old Mrs Freyman smile and chuckle at him.

"Once aga'n, yo' brin' yo'r fables her'. Wait till I tel' yo'r ma," Pamela had said her mother told Julian.

"Poor Conner tol' me hisself. Erin," Julian had beckoned on his sister. "'plain to Maggie that ghosts are real."

"Oh shush Julian," Margaret cautioned. "Do yo' 'ave a knock on the head?"

"I certainly do not," Pamela said Julian huffed at the end of his statement. To dramatize the event, Pamela fisted her hands, squinted her eyes and let her nose flare. Ivona bust out laughing. "That wasn't all," Pamela continued.

"Are you serious?" Ivona asked. Pamela nodded.

"Liam walk'd in at the wrong time. Julian tugg'd on the sleeve of his shirt, explain'n' to his broth'r. Liam tol' him that he shoul'n't lissen to what them town people talk about."

"You are wonderful company Pamela. I am glad to be away from Liam for a while."

"He'll sur'ly su'vive his lonesome day."

"True," Ivona said. "I—"

Horse's hooves came galloping along. "He su' cou'dn't stay away," Pamela whispered in Ivona's ear.

"Liam," Ivona said getting up to her feet, marching towards the horse. "You should be with Mr Butterfield back in town," Ivona said hastily to Liam. He patted the neck of the horse and slid off.

"Yonder is a fine one. Glad I purchased him from William the horse merchant," Liam said, smiling back at Yonder who could feel the tension rising from Ivona and Liam's discussion.

"Of course Yonder is but—"

"We got done with the meeting. Butterfield wasn't ready to agree to the price I set for him."

"Couldn't you have generous added unto your initial?" Ivona walked after him but he was faster; she gathered her skirt in her hand to catch up.

Liam sighed and turned back to her. "It doesn't work that way. Business is game of chance. Butterfield and Sons is crumpling. He needs the money from sales so that he doesn't run at a loss. I offered better than my competitors."

"Oh Liam," Ivona whined, staring at Liam.

"Ivona," Liam started. "This is why business isn't given out to women to handle. How do I put this? Women are quite the naïve species. For instance, in love and in the delicate art of persuasion."

"What do you mean?" Ivona squinted. Liam said no more but looked at Pamela who seemed uncomfortable to Ivona's ignorance.

"Shall I take my leave ma'am?" Pamela briskly asked.

"You may Pamela," Ivona dismissed in a tone Pamela had never heard her use before around people. Liam stared out into the distance, watching birds fly over the mountains and the caves that laid in the valleys. Ivona nodded and Pamela hurried down.

"When you see me, what do you envision?"

"I see my bride," Liam proudly uttered pulling her in but Ivona put in more weight to the ground and barely shifted.

"Other than that," Ivona commented sternly. "Do you see me as weak?"

Liam's hair tousled in the wind that was picking up; so did Ivona's loose hair. "I don't consider you one. You prove to be braver than any man I have met," Liam softly told her.

"The eyes...a beauty to behold but speaks volumes that a man without giving much might skip," her mother had once told her. Was Liam trying to send a message to her?

****

"You sent for me father," Liam said, walking into the library where his father sat with A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens in his hands. The book was sent by a cousin in London months ago and Liam felt his father was much attached to the book.

He hasn't bothered to the Castle of Otranto or Macbeth by the master of writing himself, Shakespeare, Liam thought as his father careful shut his book and placed it on the table next to himself.

"Your day?" Michael asked his son. Despite the light in the room being a bit dull except for the one close his father's side, he could picture out how those steel grey eyes must be scrutinising him.

"Pleasurable."

"Interesting. How is Sawyer's daughter doing?"

"She is in good health father."

"Her father and I are picking a date for your wedding—" Liam looked away. "—and is there anything I need to know."

"Father I have no wish for the wedding plans to go on."

"Nonsense!" Michael burst out. "You are marrying Ivona—"

"My heart doesn't yearn for her as it once did. I love someone else."

"So it is true?"

"What is true father?"

"You love a petty slave. A slave who lives under my roof!"

"Father—"

"Liam, you and Ivona have known yourselves since childhood. You know everything about one another."

"Maybe that is why I want this charade to end. I can't go on—"

Michael rose up from his chair and moved briskly towards his son. "You will because I wish you to."

"Why do you insist?" Liam inquired, waiting for his father's reply.

***

LIAM HUNTER'S ENTRY

Father's revelation was been quite disconcerting. To marry her is one thing—but to hurt her is another? Whenever I look into those eyes, I wish to tell her what I feel. To open up to her that I have no interest to wed her but father gave a reason that shifted my thinking. He was right but won't my conscious kill me first before my crimes do?

Would I be able to behold her the same way I once did? Can I treat her with such an indifference this plan is craving for?