Irish Meadows (15 page)

Instead of feeling relieved to be out of his annoying presence for the day, an odd sense of disappointment plagued Colleen's footsteps as she followed Sister Veronica down the long corridor.

B
RIANNA
REMOVED
HER
graduation cap and gown and laid them over a chair in the back of the classroom. The chatter of her classmates trickled around her, but she remained detached from the festivities. It had been two weeks since her birthday—two weeks since Gil had left—but it felt like two years. Depression followed Brianna like a fog wherever she went, and today was no exception.

“Come on, Bree,” Rebecca Nolan sang out. “Our parents will be waiting for us in the hall for the reception. I can't wait to see the cake Mrs. Stephens baked for us.” Rebecca looped her arm through Brianna's and pulled her out into the hallway. “Wasn't that a wonderful ceremony? We are now official high school graduates. We have our whole lives ahead of us.”

Brianna winced at her friend's enthusiasm. Had it only been a few weeks ago that she'd looked forward to her graduation with such excitement? She pulled herself up straight and drew in a long breath, giving herself a stern lecture. She needed to stop moping over Gilbert Whelan and get on with her life.

Brianna forced a bright smile. “So, what big plans do you have for the future, Becca?”

The girls' shoes tapped over the tiled floor. “I'm going to wait until the summer's over before I make up my mind.” She bent her blond head closer to Brianna's. “I'm still hoping Ben Walters will ask to court me. He's been hinting at it, but I think he's too afraid to approach Papa.”

“Ben's crazy about you. I can't believe he's taking so long to speak up.”

Rebecca sighed. “If he doesn't act before the fall, I guess I'll head off to college. Maybe I can catch myself a college man.”

Brianna pressed her lips together to keep a silent scream from coming out. She'd give anything to be in Becca's shoes and have the support of her father to go on to college. But Becca was merely waiting around for Ben.

Why did a woman's life always seem to hinge on the whim of a man?

They came to the room where the principal and the teachers had arranged a reception for the graduates and their families. Somehow Daddy had managed to invite Henry along—a fact that irked Brianna to no end. After all, he wasn't a member of the family, and . . .

It should have
been Gil
.

She'd always imagined Gil's proud face in the audience when she accepted her diploma. Not Henry's.

Brianna swallowed the ball of emotion that seemed permanently lodged in her throat since Gil's departure. For her mother's sake, she attempted to pull herself together and pasted on a smile as she crossed the room to greet her family.

“Congratulations, darling. We're so proud of you.” Her mother hugged her tight, surrounding Brianna with the comforting scent of her perfume.

“Very proud,” her father repeated, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head.

For once, her father seemed pleased with her. Of course he was, since she was doing exactly as he wanted. That wisp of truth stole her fleeting happiness.

Henry came forward and pulled her into an awkward hug. “The next celebration will be our wedding.”

Brianna freed herself, shock wiping the smile from her face. “But that won't be for a long time yet.”

Her father raised a bushy brow. “Why wait? The sooner the better, I say.”

Mama patted Daddy's arm. “James, darling, don't forget how much preparation is involved with a wedding. Especially the type of event you're talking about. Why, the invitations alone could take weeks.”

Unease slid along Brianna's spine. “I don't want a big, fancy wedding. A simple ceremony at St. Rita's will suit me fine.”

Henry frowned at her. “Between all the O'Learys, the Sullivans, and our combined business associates, it has to be big.”

Mama glanced nervously at her and squeezed her arm. “There's no need to discuss this right now. Tonight is about Bree's graduation. Let's all go over and get some of that cake before it disappears.”

By the time Brianna returned to Irish Meadows, her nerves were strained to a high pitch. All she wanted was to escape to her room and hide under the quilt until everyone forgot all about wedding plans.

Her parents, however, left her to say a private good night to Henry on the porch. Now that they were officially engaged, her father afforded them a lot more freedom to be alone—a turn of events Brianna did not welcome.

Henry led her to the side of the house where the porch wrapped around the brick wall like a hug. They each took a seat on a wicker chair. The summer night was the perfect temperature, yet despite the warmth, a chill ran through her.

“I can't stay long, Henry. I'm afraid I'm quite exhausted.”

“Of course. It's been an exciting day for you.” His condescending tone did nothing to endear him to her. “I'll give you a few days to rest before we begin planning our wedding.” He reached over to take her hand in his. “Your fingers are like ice.”

He massaged her hand with his own, bringing warmth back to her skin. How she wished Gil were holding her hand instead.

Lord, I know I'm supposed
to honor my father, but how can I accept Henry
when my heart is crying out for Gil?

As soon as she could, she gently disengaged her fingers. The one thought that had circled her brain these last few days came back with a vengeance. Could she marry Henry and still obtain the education she wanted? If that were possible, maybe she could endure this marriage after all.

She bit her lip and glanced at Henry's profile. “Henry, how would you feel about . . . ?” She hesitated.

“About?” He lifted a brow.

“About me going to college after we're married?”

His thunderstruck expression made her hopes sink faster than a horseshoe in a bucket of water.

“Why would you want to go to college? Shouldn't your priority be our marriage?”

She straightened her back against the chair. “One thing doesn't have to contradict the other. You'll be at work all day, and we'll have maids to take care of the household duties. Why couldn't I continue my education?”

He pushed up to pace the length of the porch. “It would be a waste of time and money. What if you found yourself . . . in a family way? You wouldn't be able to keep attending classes.”

Heat blazed in her cheeks at the sudden realization of exactly what being married to Henry would entail. The image, so abhorrent, sent her stomach into a spin.

She rose abruptly, nearly stumbling in her haste. “You're probably right. I really must go in now. Thank you again for
coming.” Eyes averted, she headed toward the front door. She'd taken two steps when he snagged her hand.

“Wait a minute, Brianna.”

She looked up in surprise at the bold intention in his pale eyes.

“I think tonight's occasion calls for a more . . . personal farewell.” He swept off his hat with one hand and cradled her neck with the other as he lowered his mouth to hers.

Brianna froze, shock stiffening her whole body under his touch. This was not Henry's usual polite peck. This kiss branded her as his possession, demanding a response she could not give. When he pulled back a few seconds later, his expression radiated disappointment. She stepped out of his arms, trying to force down the anxiety clutching her throat. “G-good night, Henry.”

Before he could say anything else, she hurried in the front door, hiked her skirts, and ran up the stairs. Once in her bedroom, she closed the door tight and leaned her back against it, the breath heaving in her lungs.

God forgive her, she could not go through with this. She couldn't pretend to feel things she didn't. If she couldn't tolerate Henry's kiss, how would she react on their wedding night? A shudder shook her from head to toe.

Falling to her knees on the carpet by her bed, she poured out fervent prayers to God, begging for His help and for the courage to plan her escape from the undesirable future that awaited her.

The sun had not even peeked over the treetops on Monday morning when Brianna opened her bedroom door. She poked her head into the hallway to make sure no one was about, and then quietly stepped out, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Valise in hand, she tiptoed down the main staircase to the foyer below. Swallowing her nerves, Brianna laid two envelopes on the hall table—one for her mother and another for Henry.

After two days holed away in her room, thinking and praying, Brianna had come to a decision. She may have lost Gil, but she could not marry Henry.

No matter how much her father wished her to.

Brianna took one last long look around her beloved home, her gaze caressing every cherished nook and cranny. Then, before she could succumb to the fear that clutched her heart like a cold fist, she slipped out the front door.

The walk to the train station gave her time to review each step of her plan. A mixture of anxiety and excitement churned in her veins. For the first time in her life, she was taking action, taking control of her future. In her letter to Henry, she'd politely broken their engagement and wished him well. Perhaps she'd taken the cowardly way out, but she believed if she'd tried to do it face-to-face, she'd have lost her nerve.

When she reached the station, she purchased a ticket to Manhattan, and not long afterward, the first train of the morning pulled up to the platform. The conductor helped her mount the steps to the car, which was almost empty. Brianna had left early to ensure she wouldn't be on the same train as Colleen and Rylan. She remembered they volunteered at the orphanage most Mondays and Wednesdays, and though Colleen likely wouldn't care what she did, Brianna felt sure Rylan would feel obligated to stop her.

As she took her seat, she heaved a sigh of relief. Phase one of her plan had gone exactly as she'd envisioned. An hour later, when the train pulled into the Manhattan station, Brianna shored up her courage and marched into the depot. The clerk at the main desk gave her directions to the streetcar that would take her to the street where Aunt Fiona lived, assuming she hadn't moved.

The trip took less than fifteen minutes. Brianna got off at the stop the clerk had mentioned and headed west, per his instructions. Two blocks later, she came to West 94th Street. Her spirits
lifted at the quaint beauty of the houses lining both sides of the street. Most of the residences were tall and narrow, with a set of wide cement stairs leading to the front door.

At her aunt's address, she paused, doubts drowning her certainty. Perhaps she should have called first, but she'd feared Aunt Fiona might seek Daddy's approval before allowing her to come, and she couldn't take that chance.

Squaring her shoulders, Brianna climbed the stairs to the front door and rang the bell. A big-bosomed woman with graying hair opened the door. From the uniform, Brianna guessed this was her aunt's housekeeper.

“Good morning. Is Miss O'Leary at home?”

The woman looked Brianna up and down. “May I ask who's calling?”

“Brianna O'Leary, her niece.”

The woman's eyebrows rose above her spectacles. “Is she expecting you, Miss?”

“No.” She hesitated. “It's a surprise.”

The woman eyed the suitcase on the ground at Brianna's feet, then switched her gaze to Brianna's face, which burned with humiliation.

“Please come in. I'll see if Miss O'Leary is taking visitors at this hour.” She didn't bother to hide the disapproval in her tone.

“Thank you.” Brianna stepped inside the door, gripping her gloved hands together. The Victorian-style house oozed warmth and charm, and immediately Brianna felt at home.
If only Aunt Fiona is as welcoming . . .

In the entranceway, she waited patiently until the murmur of voices met her ears, followed by the sound of footsteps on the narrow staircase. Swishing skirts above high-laced shoes came into view. Brianna found herself holding her breath. She hadn't seen Aunt Fiona in more than five years. Rumor had it she and Daddy had had some type of falling out, and her aunt hadn't visited Irish Meadows since.