Glittering Promises (32 page)

Will smiled and sat down across from me, visibly relaxing. “Come now, I doubt it will be as bad as all that.”

“No?”

“Well,” he said, tilting his head back and forth as if weighing the thought, “maybe.”

I let out a long breath and considered him. “Was I a fool, firing Simon? Perhaps he’d be helpful in this sort of situation…”

“No,” Will said assuredly. “You will need assistance to manage in many ways, especially when you return home.” His green eyes met mine. “But you can decide when to speak to reporters and when not to. Even Simon couldn’t have kept them from taking our photograph yesterday, out as we were, in public.”

I hesitated, remembering thinking of how it would appear. “May I see?”

He leveled a gaze at me and then rose to walk over to the corner table. He snapped open a paper and then brought it over to me.

It was exactly as I’d imagined. But it was odd seeing myself looking so not myself, clearly in a dead faint, and Will, appearing virile and strong, easily carrying me out of the Coliseum. The combination of our modern clothing—or lack thereof, in Will’s case—and the millennia-old building behind us was striking.

I sighed again, folded the newspaper, and tossed it to the coffee table. “Yes, that will be passed from paper to paper for certain. It’s like catnip to the cats.”

“Indeed,” he said ruefully. He took a sip of his tea and studied me. “Cora, when it happened you said…” He paused, as if anxious about bringing it up again, perhaps fearing it would upset me.

But I knew exactly what he was going to say. “I said I think someone pushed me,” I whispered.

His eyes held mine, looking stunned all over again. “Did you see anyone?”

I shook my head. “No. I was walking, looking around, but I sensed the chasm. I almost stumbled down into it. I had just managed to regain my balance when I think someone gave me the barest of pushes.”

Will’s frown deepened, and he set down his cup with a clatter. “Who? Who would want to do such a thing to you?”

“I don’t know. All I can think of is…” I hated to say it. Aloud. It would make it real. Set things into motion that I—

“Andrew?” Will whispered, now behind my settee.

I looked up at him and then nodded, feeling shame for my suspicion. The man was a lout in myriad ways, but did he deserve this?

Will came around the corner of the settee and sat down across from me again, leaning forward, elbows on knees. “Let’s think it through. Why would he do such a thing?”

I shrugged and then leaned forward so we could whisper even more quietly. “Because I’ve turned Vivian against him?”

“But Vivian hasn’t broken it off with him, has she?”

“No. But he’s certainly feeling the effects of my influence. Viv only manages to be civil to him, as far as I can see. It’s as if she’s playing a role. Andrew is smart. Surely he senses what’s happening…”

“Is that enough for him to attempt to murder you?” he said, eyebrows lifted in disbelief. He cocked his head. “That’s a serious, serious allegation.”

“But think it through. If he gets rid of me so it looks like it’s an accident, he can comfort Viv, maybe even win her back. Perhaps my portion of the Kensington-Diehl Mine would revert back to the Kensington estate.”

“Would it?” Will asked.

“No. I made certain it would go to my parents. Only if my parents died would it…” My eyes shifted to meet his. “He… If something happened to me, he wouldn’t go after my folks, too, would he?”

Will stared back at me. “I don’t know.” He rose and resumed his pacing. “I think that we might need to hire a private detective. Someone unassociated with the Kensingtons or Morgans heretofore.”

“That’s impossible,” I said. “Andrew would pick up on our new suspicions. And that is liable to change every one of our relationships. We’ve come so far, Will. I don’t want to end this tour with that in the air.”

Will lifted his hands. “Tell them that you need additional security, given the media scrutiny and Grunthall’s departure. Especially now, after this event at the Coliseum.”

“And then what? Have the man accompany us all the way home to America and then pay for his return voyage?”

He looked at me with a wry expression. “It’s not as if you can’t afford it.”

I laughed softly at myself. He was right. But still, it grated. I’d rather give that money to a charity than spend it on myself. I thought about Eleonora and her orphanage, but that led me down yet another troubling path. I brought my attention back to Will, who had asked me something.

“Who else could it be?” he whispered again.

“I don’t know,” I returned. “Another reporter, trying to enliven the story?” I gestured to the paper. “It certainly worked.”

“Enliven the story at the risk of killing the subject?” he asked doubtfully.

“I know. But didn’t Art Stapleton risk the same with us in France and beyond?”

He sighed and shook his head, continuing to pace.

I closed my eyes, pain suddenly making it difficult to continue.

He came around to me again and knelt beside me, picking up my good hand. “I’ve overtaxed you. Come. Let us get you something to eat and into bed. If you’re certain you want to join us tomorrow, you need a good night’s sleep.”

The next morning, it was far more difficult to rise and dress than I had thought.
Perhaps it’s the lingering remains of the medications
, I thought, cradling my head and opening my bloodshot eyes wide in the reflection of the mirror. Briefly, I wondered if it would be better to stay back and rest, but I couldn’t quite imagine a whole day here in the palazzo, pacing the cavernous spaces, thinking, thinking, thinking about the things I’d discussed with Will.

After a quick knock on my door, Anna arrived, her arms full of a massive vase filled with three dozen red roses, and behind her, two other servants, both carrying identical vases.

My eyes narrowed.
Pierre.

She met my gaze and hid a small smile, settling her vase on my dressing table, while the others set them on my desk and a small table between two chairs. The room filled with the sweet fragrance of the buds, just beginning to open, and I remembered the flowers he’d sent me in Geneva…and how I’d thought they were from Will.

“His note is in that one,” Anna said, nodding to the vase on the desk. I saw it then, the envelope perched among the buds. “What would you like to wear to Tivoli today, Miss?”

“Mmm,” I said absently, tearing my eyes away from the far bouquet. I wanted to read the card in privacy, and I briefly wondered if I might get the maids to throw the flowers out before Will got word of them. But it seemed a sacrilege to do such a thing—the flowers had to have cost a fortune. Back home, even one flower, purchased rather than picked from a garden, would’ve been considered an extravagance…

“Miss?”

I started and turned to Anna again. “Oh, yes. I’ll wear the navy suit. I imagine Will would like us to stay out of our black crepe so we can continue to blend in. Thank you.”

She nodded and went directly to the third red chest and dug out the day jacket and skirt. “I’ll return with it pressed, Miss,” she said, her eyes shifting toward Pierre’s note and then back to me.

“Thank you, Anna,” I said.

The other maids had already left, and she closed the door quietly behind her. I turned back to the bouquet on the desk and hesitated, then moved over to it, as shy as if I were approaching Pierre himself.

My fingers traced the soft, velvety leaves of the nearest bud, then closed around the envelope—a rich, creamy ivory against the blue-red of the flowers. I cracked the red wax seal, slid the note out, and turned to the window in order to better read it.

Mon Ange
,

How I have agonized over your well-being since your accident! Forgive me for my foolishness with William. But can you fault a man with a nemesis competing for his very heart? This time apart from you has left it clear to me that I must win you. I must.

Please do not send me away yet, my love. Not yet. Give me but a few days to persuade you. I know the course of your life has changed over this summer. With all my heart, I wish to be the man by your side to guide you. With your father gone, and your papa so very far away, it is plain to me that you have been like a boat without captain. I can be your captain, steering your ship, so you can sit back and enjoy the pleasures of the life you’re destined to have. A woman’s heart is too tender to manage what you’ve been asked to do. I shall relieve you of responsibility.

Never have I loved a woman as I love you. And I believe we belong together, for eternity. I count the minutes until our reunion.

Forever yours,
Pierre

I lifted the letter to my chest and thought about his words. They were both heart-rending and agitating. Part of me longed for his relentless ardor, accepting his pursuit. But the bigger part of me grew tired of this game. I had made it clear that I’d chosen Will, and Pierre had not respected my decision. What sort of husband would he be? Likely one who would press for his way—seeking to relieve me of responsibility I wasn’t certain I wished to lose—until I succumbed in exhaustion.

My eyes ran over his words again. It was plain he didn’t think I could do it—manage the mine or my increased responsibilities as a Kensington or a public figure. He thought he should rescue me, squire me away,
manage
me…even as Andrew wished to.

So many men wanting me in a certain compartment, a neat and tidy box they could identify and place where they wished…all except for Will. With Will, I felt freedom as well as support. He wanted me to go where God wanted me to go, not where he wanted me to go. Clearly, it’d be best for him if I agreed to marry him and stay in Minnesota while he went to university. But he hadn’t asked that of me, not since I’d put him off.

I looked over Pierre’s words again, the feeling of confirmation washing through me. I would tell Pierre. As soon as we had a moment together. Send him on his way home so that Will and I could settle again into a semblance of peaceful union. Every moment on the
Olympic
would be one I would want to treasure, soaking up our last days, our last hours together before we would have to part ways to see through the next year of our lives. And in those moments, I hoped we would plan on how soon we could be reunited…forever.

Because staring at these roses, so beautiful, so pristine, I knew in my bones that I’d prefer a single, scraggly bud plucked from a garden if it was from Will. He was the man that God wanted for me.

~William~

They spent the morning touring the dry, crumbling remains of Hadrian’s Villa, hot under the summer sun, and discussing the height and breadth of Rome’s power. Here, his clients were coming to understand the terrific reach of the emperor—his “summer home” was the size of a small town. They clambered through the remains of temples and past pools full of algae. Columns that once had supported roofs now stood alone in the hot sun. The cracked remnants of soldiers’ and firefighters’ barracks rose three stories high above them.

“Rome was terrified of fire, of course,” he said, helping Cora and then Lillian climb across a small pile of rubble and into a hallway that once had held guest apartments, their elaborate black and white mosaic tile flooring still visible. “Under Nero, they’d seen the city fairly destroyed. Hadrian was determined to never leave such a legacy behind him. Only buildings upon buildings. And walls as far as the northern edge of England and Jerusalem. Everywhere you go, it seems, one runs across Hadrian’s name…and his legacy.”

“And he came here to escape the heat,” Felix cracked, fanning his sweat-soaked shirt. He carried his jacket over one arm, as the rest of the men were doing. The women carried parasols, even above their wide-brimmed hats.

“Yes,” Will returned with a smile. But his smile faded as he noted Andrew nearing Cora. His worry was silly, he told himself. There was no way the man would make a move against her here, in the center of them all. If he was culpable at all… “Much like your fathers have taken to moving you all to the lake during the height of summer to escape the heat of Butte.”

“Are you comparing us to Roman emperors?” Sam Morgan asked, his grey brows knitting together in mirth. He shook his head. “Wallace would’ve loved that.”

The others laughed, but Will noticed the shadow of pain on the Kensington children’s faces. “In a way,” he said gently. “But with all due respect, Mr. Morgan, I’m afraid Hadrian’s wealth would’ve made you look like paupers.”

The group looked to him in surprise. “Ah, yes. All of Rome’s coffers were at Hadrian’s disposal. There is good reason that few of Rome’s emperors died of natural causes. That sort of wealth and power…” He paused and dared to look each of them in the eye, even Andrew. “Never take what you have been given for granted. There is great responsibility with the gifts your families have been given.”

“Given?” Andrew said with a scoff. “Our fathers worked hard for what they’ve acquired.”

“Indeed,” Will said, unwavering. “As you must, in order to be wise stewards of it as it becomes yours.” He circled around a figure on a short column, looking up to its headless shoulders. “Hadrian was one of the few decent emperors Rome ever saw. He didn’t spend time trying to figure out how to expand the borders Trajan forged; he spent his time traveling about the far reaches, getting to know his people, understand their unique challenges.”

He gave Andrew and Felix a meaningful look, ducked his head as if thinking, and then looked back up at the statue as if it had once been Hadrian. “Not that Hadrian was perfect. It was under his watch that the bloody Bar Kochba revolt occurred in Israel. He went to Israel, and at first was sympathetic to the Jewish concerns. Some say he even promised to rebuild the temple. But at some point, he received poor counsel, and his heart hardened against them. He outlawed circumcision and decided to rebuild the temple—and yet dedicate it to
Jupiter
. What followed was horrendous, not only for the Jews, but also the Romans. Over the next few years of war, hundreds of thousands died, and over a thousand towns and villages were razed. It’s a sobering story of remembering it’s important, whom we listen to.”