Journey's End (Gilded Promises) (26 page)

“Yes. Elizabeth and I had a most interesting conversation. We discussed our future.”

Her eyes widened at his blunt declaration, as well as the inappropriateness of tackling the topic at the dinner table, where anyone could hear their words.

A week ago, he wouldn’t have brought up the subject at all, much less in such a public arena. Tonight, propriety took second place to the truth. “Or rather”—he leaned his head close to hers and lowered his voice to a deep, menacing pitch—“the lack of our future together.”

Her spoon wobbled in her fingers, the only sign of her reaction to his words. “But, you can’t mean—”

“Oh, but I do. Elizabeth and I will not become betrothed.”

Her face paled. “But you are so well suited—a merger of our families would be advantageous to us all and—” Her mouth slammed shut.

But the damage had been done. Katherine had considered him a desirable match for her daughter because their marriage would have merged two business empires into one.

Jackson’s stomach roiled in disgust. His plan to marry Elizabeth had never been about money or business. His pursuit of respectability had been genuine, if somewhat misguided.

Compelled, his gaze sought out Caroline’s.

“No.”
Katherine spat the word under her breath, ever mindful of keeping her voice low enough so only Jackson heard her. “Do not tell me you have thrown over my daughter for that . . . that . . . horrid creature.”

Jackson balled his hand into a fist, then forced his fingers to relax and addressed the less volatile of the two accusations. “If you must know, Elizabeth rejected me.”

“My daughter would never—”

“She would. And she did.” And that was all he was going to say on the matter. “While I have your attention, let’s talk about Caroline and her mother.”

“I refuse to speak about either.” She glanced around the table, lowered her voice to a hiss. “Not here.”

“No, you are right. Not here. But know this”—he captured her gaze—“we will have the conversation before this night is through. I—”

A tinkling of silver to crystal cut off the rest of his words. Richard’s voice lifted above the sound. “I wish to propose a toast.”

Resigned to the interruption, Jackson picked up his glass and watched as everyone else followed suit, Katherine the last to join the others.

Smiling broadly, Richard pushed his chair back and stood. “To my granddaughter, Caroline.”

“To Caroline,” the rest of the dinner guests said in chorus. Everyone, that was, except Katherine.

Caroline smiled up at her grandfather with genuine happiness in her eyes. Her cheeks had turned a becoming shade of pink, and Jackson knew why. For all her bravado and tough exterior, for all the outward pretense of not caring one way or another, Caroline wanted to be a part of her grandfather’s world.

Jackson would see she was given the chance to succeed.

With his glass still raised, Richard continued his toast, speaking directly to Caroline. “You have brought me hope for the future. Although I will never have my Libby back, I do have you.” Richard paused, wiped at his moist cheek unashamedly. “It is my supreme joy to welcome you to the family, my dear. Welcome home, Caroline.”

Jackson lifted his glass high in the air. “Hear, hear.”

Conversation erupted around the table. Caroline dabbed at her eyes.

“How long are you to stay in America?” someone called to her.

“Will you be attending the opera tomorrow evening?” came from another diner.

Caroline answered each question one at a time, her composure in place, her poise undeniable. Only the slight tremble of her lips gave away her nervousness.

Jackson watched her with pride, his love for her growing by the minute. For all intents and purposes, Caroline was a raging success among the good people of New York. For her sake, he would make sure that never changed.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

When she’d boarded the SS
Princess Helena
back in Dover, Caroline had done so with one goal in mind, to seek justice for her mother. Now, in hindsight, she realized she’d been lying to herself.

There had been a deeper reason for her journey to America, a longing so strong she’d shoved the need into the very corner of her mind, afraid to hope for a future that could never be hers. Now, in the aftermath of her grandfather’s toast, she allowed the truth to settle over her. Desperate for a place to call her own, she’d come to America to find where she belonged.

At first, her arrival in this country had only highlighted her loneliness
—her aloneness—making her wish for something just out of reach.

Welcome home, Caroline.

With those three words, uttered by her grandfather, she’d found her place. She’d found a family,
her
family.

Her heart swelled with joy, and she remembered one of her mother’s favorite Bible verses.
For I will turn their mourning into joy, and will comfort them, and make them rejoice from their sorrow.

Caroline’s eyes stung from the tears she held firmly in place. This was not a time for crying. This was a time for rejoicing.

Her gaze sought and found Jackson.

He smiled that confident, beautiful smile of his and tipped his glass in her direction, a silent salute to her. Her breathing slowed as another moment of truth hit her. Jackson’s good opinion mattered to her.
He
mattered to her. More with each passing day.

Was she in love with him? she wondered, already knowing the answer.
I love him.
No, no, no.
I love him.
No. Love was dangerous. It could be used against her as a weapon, one that could destroy her, and others close to her.

Including Elizabeth, especially Elizabeth.

Her cousin had made it clear she didn’t love Jackson or want to marry him. Was that still how she felt? Caroline could never consider allowing her feelings for Jackson to spread into her heart, into her life, until she knew for sure.

She would never hurt Elizabeth, not intentionally. But before she could focus on her own happiness, and that of her cousin’s, Caroline needed to finish what she’d come here to do. Tonight.

The dinner drew to a close, at last. Their host rose from his chair and addressed the table at large. “We will adjourn to the music room, where my wife has arranged a performance of Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto Number Five.”

Under normal circumstances Caroline would enjoy a private concert of a beautiful piece of music. But these were not normal circumstances. Caroline wanted the past laid to rest.

She wanted justice for her mother.

She wanted it now.

Holding to her patience as best she could, she took the opposite route to the door as Jackson did. She wasn’t ready to speak to him. Not yet, not with her emotions still raw and her love for him still so new in her heart. She needed her mind clear.

Jackson seemed to have other ideas. He circled the table, heading straight for her, intent in his every step. He looked masculine and determined and very appealing. Caroline fought herself, lost.

She started toward him.

Elizabeth stepped into her path. “You will sit by me, dear cousin.” She twined their arms together in a sisterly embrace. “I wish to speak with you about something rather important that cannot wait another minute.”

The urgency in her cousin’s voice had Caroline’s eyebrows traveling upward. “Truly, it can’t wait one more minute?”

Elizabeth laughed. “You are teasing me.”

How she adored her young cousin. “Only a little.”

“I will not be distracted.” She glanced over her shoulder, looked at Jackson, and smiled. “My news simply cannot wait.”

No. Not good. Had Jackson made his intentions known to Elizabeth? Had she misread his glances during dinner?

Wanting to know, needing to know, Caroline allowed her cousin to pull her into the VanDercreeks’ large, airy music room.

They settled in the back, which suited Caroline perfectly. After a bit of shuffling and the requisite introduction of the quartet, the program began.

Elizabeth remained silent throughout the opening bars. But as soon as the music began in earnest, she leaned her head toward Caroline’s.

Caroline braced herself for the dreaded announcement, torn between happiness for her cousin and sorrow for herself.

“You will be pleased to know I told Jackson I didn’t want to marry him.”

“You . . .” Caroline swung her gaze to her cousin, her mouth falling open. “You . . . what?” she hissed.

“I told Jackson I didn’t want to marry him and he—” Elizabeth paused when the music hit a series of soft notes.

Caroline waited for the movement to hit a crescendo, her mind racing. “I must know, Elizabeth. How did he take the news?”

“That’s the best part.” Elizabeth smiled. “He was in perfect agreement with me. Oh, he loves me, in his own way, but he thinks of me as a sister, nothing more.”

A sister.
Jackson loved Elizabeth like a sister. And her cousin appeared perfectly happy with that. He wasn’t going to court her cousin. He was free to seek out another.

Would he attempt to pursue Caroline now?

Did she want him to?

Yes. Oh, yes.

Joy surged through her, followed by a hard twist of reality. The man was attracted to her, of that Caroline had no doubt. But thanks to her conversation with Granny, she knew Jackson valued respectability more than any other quality in a woman. He would want a wife who had always lived her life above reproach.

Caroline was not that woman.

Her past sins were too great and varied. She’d stolen food, picked pockets, fleeced unsuspecting gamblers. Dignity, honor,
respectability
didn’t fill an empty belly. A reminder of how little she fit in this world, in Jackson’s world.

Eyes burning, she dropped her gaze to her hands tangled together in her lap. Emotion constricted her chest, making her breath come in short, hard puffs.

“Caroline.” Elizabeth covered Caroline’s hands with her own. “Are you not happy at this news?”

What an odd choice of words coming from her cousin. Curious despite her growing agitation, she lifted her gaze to meet Elizabeth’s. The wise look in the girl’s eyes had Caroline reassessing her cousin. She knew Caroline’s secret. She knew Caroline cared for Jackson, and not in a brotherly sort of way.

Elizabeth’s next words confirmed her fears. “I have seen the way you look at Jackson.” The girl’s voice held wisdom beyond her nineteen years. “And he at you.”

“I would never . . . that is, if you had wanted him for yourself I wouldn’t have . . .” Unsure how to proceed, she pressed her lips together and gave Elizabeth a helpless shrug.

“Oh, Caro, I know that.” She took Caroline’s hand as if it was as natural as breathing. “You and Jackson are entirely too good to ever intentionally harm anyone, especially me.”

Caroline wasn’t good, far from it. And she definitely wasn’t a suitable wife for a man who desired respectability and correctness above all else.

“If a man ever looked at me the way Jackson looks at you . . .” Elizabeth released a dreamy sigh. “I would be the happiest woman in the world.”

On cue, the music ended with a dramatic rise, then fall.

More shuffling ensued, preventing Caroline from responding to her cousin’s words. Elizabeth released her hand, stood, and then, after a hasty farewell, left Caroline alone.

Two blinks later, Jackson filled the seat her cousin had just vacated.

“I haven’t had a chance to speak with you all evening.” He dropped his gaze over her in a slow perusal. “You are the most beautiful woman in the room. Though I doubt I’m the first to say so.”

The appreciation in his eyes sent a tremble of hope through her. “Perhaps not the first,” she whispered, “but certainly the most longed for.”

That earned her a wide smile, and she found herself relaxing for the first time all evening. When had this man become her rock?

And, oh, the way he was looking at her. Not for a very, very long time had she felt so . . . special, so accepted for herself. The loneliness of recent years waned under a strange, soothing calm.

“Is that the dress Lappet raved about this afternoon?”

Her stomach fluttered. “Monsieur declared no other woman should have this exquisite creation but me.”

“The man is a genius.”

She couldn’t deny that particular truth. “He does seem to have an eye.”

Reaching to her, touching her arm softly, his face grew suddenly very serious, his gaze troubled. “Caroline, I—”

At the same moment, she said, “Jackson, I—”

They laughed, then fell silent.

After a moment, he began again. “You first.”

“No.” She shook her head. “You.”

Impatience rolling off him in waves, he glanced to the other side of the room, frowned, then returned his attention to her. “I noticed . . .” He stopped, seemed to rethink his words, began again. “That is, I noticed that you and Elizabeth were in deep conversation during the musicale.”

She flinched. “We weren’t intending to be rude.”

“You misunderstand my meaning.” He brushed a hand down her arm, his touch casual and intimate and highly inappropriate in such a setting. “I doubt anyone else noticed. I merely meant to comment on the closeness you two seem to be building.”

“We have become friends.”

“I’m glad.”

A sense of recklessness, the one she usually stifled, poured through her reserve, loosening her tongue. “We discussed you and her and your future and . . .”

She couldn’t quite finish her thought.

“And . . . ?” he prompted.

Caroline opened her mouth to relate the rest, to tell him she knew he wasn’t going to marry Elizabeth, when she caught sight of her aunt scowling at them from across the room. No, not them—Caroline. Katherine St. James was looking at Caroline with unmistakable contempt in her eyes.

“And.”
She answered her aunt’s glare with one of her own. “I know who intercepted my mother’s letters.”

“Yes.” Jackson followed the direction of her gaze. “As do I.”

Jackson felt the first stirrings of concern when Caroline swiveled her head and simply stared at him with a blank expression. He’d expected her eyes to narrow with anger, rage, maybe even hate. But this calm, careful focus? No, he hadn’t expected that from her. Although now, in the face of her icy control, he realized just how much alike he and Caroline were.

He’d experienced the same need to keep his emotions in check when he’d confronted George Smythe outside his tenement houses. John Reilly’s presence had been invaluable that day, a silent physical reminder for Jackson to keep a tight rein on his temper.

He would offer the same service to Caroline. “We should confront your aunt together.”

She said nothing.

“Tonight. We should make our move tonight.”

Still, she said nothing. She didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t react at all. She merely waited. On him. Keeping a firm hold on her emotions.
Phenomenal control.

“We will speak plainly and only in absolutes,” he said. “There will be no hysterics, no pointless accusations, just an adherence to the truth as we know it.”

She blinked at him, her brows slightly lifted, withholding her opinion until he finished.

“It would be best if we avoided involving Richard, at least during our initial confrontation.”

At last, she broke her silence. “Agreed.”

“Let’s go.” He stretched out his hand. She took it without question.

Her fingers were cold, even through her gloves. A primitive urge rose inside him, a powerful need to soothe, to comfort, to defend and protect. “Remember, you aren’t alone anymore. I won’t leave your side.”

A single hitched breath warned him of the storm brewing beneath her calm exterior. “You had better do the majority of the talking.”

“I planned to allow you the honors.”

She grimaced. “You said no hysterics. No pointless accusations. I can’t promise to refrain from either. In fact”—her icy stare skimmed across her aunt—“you may have to physically restrain me before I am through with her.”

“Then who will restrain me?”

His words elicited a short laugh from Caroline. “We’ll just have to be each other’s better judgment.”

He liked that suggestion, liked knowing she was not only accepting his assistance but counting on it.

She offered him a brief, nervous smile before her lips pressed into a hard line. “My uncle has retrieved their coats. They are leaving.”

“We’ll maneuver a ride with them in their carriage.”

Frowning, Caroline disengaged her hand from his. “That will present a problem. I came with my grandfather. He will expect me to leave with him.”

Holding steady, Jackson considered their next move but then caught sight of their hosts heading their way. “I’m afraid we’ve missed our chance.”

Caroline turned her head and sighed. “So we have.”

He turned her to face him, spoke quickly before their hosts arrived. “First thing in the morning, before work, I’ll fetch you at Granny’s. By the time we travel to St. James House, Richard will already have left for the office.”