Journey's End (Gilded Promises) (19 page)

Of all her relatives Caroline had met over the last few days, Elizabeth was the easiest to like. Even from the beginning of her quest, when Caroline was determined to hate every St. James, she hadn’t been able to rustle up much animosity for her cousin. The girl was just too kind and sweet. Warm, caring, friendly.

Hard to dislike those qualities.

“You are certain you don’t mind that I have come to see you without an invitation?” Elizabeth stepped back and braided her fingers together at her waist. “I wouldn’t wish to intrude.”

Intrude. That might have been true only a day ago—had it only been a day?—but something remarkable had happened since Caroline had confronted her grandfather the previous night and then met with him this morning. She’d forgiven him.

With that forgiveness had come sympathy. Richard St. James, for all his sophistication and polish, was suffering as much as Caroline. Perhaps more.

“I had breakfast with Grandfather this morning.” Elizabeth unwound her hands and looked around. “He told me you would be staying in New York for a while and that you were thinking of—” She cut herself off as her gaze landed on Caroline’s trunk in the other room. “Oh. Are you leaving after all?”

“Just the hotel.”

“Well, good.” Elizabeth moved forward. “When I saw your trunk, I thought . . . Oh, never mind what I thought.” She spun to face Caroline directly, then shifted from one foot to another. “Would you care to go for a walk with me?”

“I am in the middle of packing, with my maid’s assistance.” She indicated Sally with a nod of her head.

Elizabeth didn’t so much as look in the other woman’s direction. “Won’t you take a break? I do so want to get to know you better.”

Caroline caught Sally’s expression. She knew what that eye roll meant. She hid her own responding sigh. Although Elizabeth wasn’t intentionally trying to be rude, she spoke as though she and Caroline were the only two people in the room, as if Sally weren’t any more important than a piece of furniture.

For the first time since embarking on her journey to America, Caroline recognized that there was one reason to be glad her grandfather hadn’t received her mother’s letters. If he had, if he’d opened his arms to them when Caroline had been but a child, she might have ended up just like Elizabeth.

Sweet and kind, to be sure—
probably
—but her cousin was also oblivious to much of the world around her.

“Well, Caro, what do you say?” Elizabeth took her by the arm. “Shall we take a walk together?”

Caroline flinched. “What did you just call me?”

“Caro. It’s short for Caroline.” Elizabeth looked at her oddly, as though she couldn’t understand why she would object. “Do you not like the nickname?”

Mary was the only person who called her Caro, but that didn’t mean Elizabeth couldn’t. “I—yes. Call me Caro.”

“So you will accompany me?”

The girl was certainly tenacious.

And there was nothing keeping Caroline from accepting her invitation. She wasn’t checking out of the hotel until the following morning, and she was very nearly packed. “Why not.”

“Wonderful.”

Caroline started for the door with Elizabeth but stopped midstep when Sally cleared her throat. She spun back around, the question stalling on her lips when she noted the gloves dangling from the maid’s hand. A hat hung in the other.

Of course.

She’d nearly forgotten where she was and whom she was with. Proper attire was necessary for a walk with the girl. Caroline was suddenly very tired of all the rules. But she would follow them if for no other reason than to get to know her cousin better. She liked Elizabeth, rather a lot, actually. The girl couldn’t have intercepted her mother’s letters. She was far too young. But one of her parents probably had, and maybe Elizabeth knew something.

Perhaps this walk would prove beneficial for uncovering more information.

Gliding back through the room, Caroline accepted the hat and gloves from Sally, then mouthed the words, “Thank you.”

Sally nodded, the silent warning in her eyes unnecessary.

Once outside the hotel, Caroline drew alongside her cousin. Elizabeth looked to her left and then to her right, evidently debating their route. She considered a moment longer, her fingertip pressed to her chin. Eventually, she turned to her left. “I think we should head to Sixth Avenue. I want to see if Macy’s has any new dresses on display.”

“You buy your clothes at a department store?”

“My goodness, no.” She looked surprised Caroline would ask such an absurd question. “I have them custom-made in Paris.”

“Why?”

“According to Mother, no woman of fine breeding should be caught in last year’s design. And she should never be caught in the same gown twice.”

Caroline couldn’t imagine such snobbery. “You and your mother buy custom-made dresses from Paris and then wear them only once?”

The expense was astounding.

Elizabeth sighed. “Anything else is considered gauche.”

Indeed.

“I’m not supposed to know this, but . . .” Elizabeth glanced around and then leaned in closer to Caroline. “Apparently, my mother’s father had a bit of a gambling problem. His fortune came and went depending on his success at the gaming tables.”

At the mention of a wealthy man risking his family’s livelihood on the turn of a card or die, Caroline’s stomach dropped to her toes. She’d fleeced men like Elizabeth’s grandfather. Although she often thought they’d gotten what they deserved, she’d also had a twinge of unease at what their losses would mean if they had families.

She should have known better than to pretend consequences didn’t exist.

One more layer of guilt to add to her unconscionable behavior on the streets.

“There was a season in my mother’s youth when her father had been very unlucky. She was humiliated at a ball because she was called out for wearing last year’s gown.” Sighing softly, Elizabeth straightened. “So, you see, no dresses from a department store or anywhere but Paris are allowed. But I do so like to look.”

Caroline thought about her conversation with Mary this morning, and her friend’s dream of creating original dresses to be sold at a department store.

She could just imagine Mary toiling by the low light of her apartment late into the night, her hand stitching a garment that might make it into the display window of Macy’s. Her Irish friend was clearly very talented, her needlework impeccable, hence the reason she was given the task of finishing the dresses for her boss. If only Caroline could lighten Mary’s burdens.

But, of course, she could. Or she would be able to do so very soon, once she began working with her grandfather. She was suddenly excited over what the coming weeks would bring.

“Is New York much different from London?” Elizabeth asked the question with wide eyes, indicating that she had no idea about Caroline’s childhood.

“There are many similarities, I suppose, but the buildings in New York are decidedly younger.”

They turned onto Sixth Avenue.

“I think I should enjoy traveling to London,” Elizabeth said in a dreamy voice.

After what had happened with his daughter, Caroline doubted Richard St. James would allow Elizabeth that pleasure.

That didn’t mean a trip to the British Isles was completely out of the question. “Perhaps you will go once you are married.”

Elizabeth slowed her gait, a thoughtful expression in her eyes. “You mean for my honeymoon.” She tapped her finger to her chin. “Yes, that would be acceptable.”

As much as it pained her to continue, Caroline needed to remind herself of the reality of the situation, of the man who would take her cousin on her honeymoon.

She swallowed hard. The thought of Elizabeth traveling with Montgomery made her sick to her stomach. “Has Montgo—I mean, has Jackson ever been to Europe?”

“I have no idea.” Elizabeth turned to study a window display. “Why do you ask?”

“I thought . . . that is, aren’t you two . . .” What was the word for
almost engaged
? “Promised to one another?”

“Nonsense.” Elizabeth swept away the thought with a flick of her wrist. “Jackson and I aren’t suited at all.”

“But I thought . . .” The newspaper articles speculating about the
blessed event
flashed in her mind. “The talk around town is that there’s an understanding between you. From what I understand, he will soon begin courting you officially.”

Elizabeth lifted her shoulder in a distracted manner. “I can’t stop what people say.”

Out of some perverse need, Caroline continued to press the matter. “Do you not . . . like Jackson?”

“I adore him. He is a very good man.” A slight frown passed across her face. “I am confident he will make some woman a decent husband.”

“There is nothing wrong with marrying a good man who will make you a decent husband.”

“That is not what I meant.” She started down the sidewalk again. “I, for one, do not want a boring, predictable husband.”

Boring? Predictable? Jackson Montgomery was many things, but boring and predictable he was not. And, really, what was wrong with marrying a good, solid man who would treat his wife with considerable care? How could any woman not want that?

As if reading a portion of Caroline’s thoughts, Elizabeth sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to marry, someday, but I want more than safety and comfort.”

The very things Caroline most craved.

“Oh, Caro.” Elizabeth looped her arm through Caroline’s and tugged her close. “I want so much to be swept away by a man. I want . . . I want . . .
passion
.” Eyes wide, she pressed her hand to her mouth, as if shocked by her own words.

Caroline was struck a little speechless herself. Her cousin didn’t find Montgomery passionate. How could that be?

When confined in the small space of her grandfather’s motorcar, with his face pressed close to hers, Caroline had felt the man’s pent-up emotions seething just below the surface.

When he’d lowered his gaze over her, she’d known—known without a doubt—that he would kiss with the same expertise he demonstrated in all other areas of his life. And, oh my yes, passion would definitely be part of the experience.

In fact, for one tense moment in the car last night, Caroline had been . . . to use her cousin’s words . . .
swept away
.

Chapter Nineteen

Twenty minutes after they’d returned from their walk, Elizabeth left the hotel suite with a promise to visit Caroline once she was settled in her new residence. Ten minutes after her cousin’s departure, another knock came at the door.

Caroline had had enough of visitors for one day. Thus, she sent Sally to get rid of the unwanted guest, whoever it was. With surprising finesse, and a considerable amount of charm, Montgomery worked his way into the room past Sally.
He
certainly had no problem paying attention to the pretty maid.

“Caroline,” he said. “A moment of your time.”

Sally scurried around him, an apologetic look in her eyes.

“It’s fine, Sally. I’ll take over from here. In fact, why don’t you go home for the evening? We’ll continue our packing in the morning.”

“No, miss.” The girl shook her head adamantly as she lowered her voice to a whisper. “You cannot be alone in a hotel room with a gentleman.”

“Right.” Caroline hid her chagrin behind a taut smile. Would she ever master all the rules propriety demanded? What would she do without Sally’s guidance once she moved out of the hotel?

The answer was simple. She would take the maid with her.

Shooting a quick glance in Montgomery’s direction, Sally dropped a small curtsy. “I’ll be just on the opposite side of that door, tidying up in the other room.”

Caroline nodded with the perfect amount of indifference, or so she hoped. “Very good, Sally.”

Waiting for the maid to depart, Montgomery looked around the room in silence. His gaze stopped on several points of interest, such as her trunks and bags. “So it’s true. You’re moving out of the hotel.”

“As you can see.” Now that she’d played her hand with her grandfather, the Waldorf-Astoria was an extravagance she no longer needed. Although she trusted her grandfather’s motives, she’d refused his offer to move into his home. Instead, she’d chosen a female-only boarding house considered suitable for women of unlimited means.

None of which she deigned to share with her grandfather, let alone the man currently taking stock of her hotel room.

Brows drawn together, Montgomery moved to a half-full trunk and ran his hand along the sleeve of one of the dresses. “I wouldn’t have guessed you for a woman with such expensive taste.”

“We both know that’s not why my clothing is of the first order.”

He toyed with the sleeve a moment longer, his strong fingers ridiculously masculine against the delicate fabric. “You left no detail to chance.”

Why pretend otherwise? “The stakes were too high for me to risk exposure over a forgotten detail, no matter how small.”

“You are a shrewd woman, Caroline St. James.” Jackson dropped his hand and turned to face her. “I have to wonder what you would have done had you discovered that your grandfather truly had abandoned you and your mother.”

Ah. There it was. Proof he was a detail man himself. In order to know her motives now, Montgomery needed to understand her original plan first. Smart. Very smart. “I should think you could figure that out on your own.”

“I know you had set out to ruin him, but the question is, my dear Caroline”—he moved a step closer to her—“how would you have done it?”

She shifted behind the trunk, happy for the physical barrier between them. “Does it matter now?”

“You know it does.” He picked up a small statue of Lady Liberty from a nearby table and rolled it in his hand. “Of course, I have several thoughts on the matter but can’t decide which route you would have taken.”

Caroline shrugged. “What would you say if I told you I didn’t know how I was going to destroy him?”

He set the statue down. “I’d say you were lying.”

She pressed her lips into a tight line. The need to defend herself was strong, too strong to continue to play this game. The situation demanded honesty. “My plan was to get close to him, to study his every move. Once I learned his comings and goings and his likes and dislikes, as well as the particulars of his character, I would have then focused on the best way to exploit his weaknesses.”

Something flashed in the man’s eyes, something Caroline recognized as surprise.

“Come now, Montgomery, everyone has a weakness, something that can ultimately be used to destroy them.”

“Not everyone.”

“Everyone,”
she reiterated, wondering what his weakness was. What would make Jackson Montgomery fall to his knees and beg for mercy?

Her cousin? Elizabeth had intimated that she wasn’t in love with the man, but was he in love with her?

She hated that it mattered so much.

“You mean to tell me,” he began, “that you traveled to America without a specific plan in mind.”

Caroline gave him a haughty look. “I just told you my plan.”

He scrubbed a hand down his face, the first sign of his growing agitation.
Good.
If he was going to make her uncomfortable, then he should share in some of the agony.

“Caroline, these games have to stop.” His voice came out painfully calm. “If I am to teach you the family business, I need to know how your mind works.”

“
You’re
teaching me? But I thought Grandfather was going to . . .” Her words trailed off as she tried to recall exactly what her grandfather had said that afternoon.

“Richard will be involved in your education, of course, but I will be instructing you for now since much of your family’s holdings are tied directly to the majority of mine.”

Perfectly logical. Then why did she sense her grandfather had some unknown agenda here, one that would put her in daily contact with Montgomery? “You don’t find it odd that my grandfather has involved you.”

“We are supposed to be on the same side.”

“And what side is that?”

“Your grandfather’s, yours, and, of course, your mother’s.”

At the mention of her mother, in that soft, gentle tone, her heart stuttered in her chest.

Montgomery’s expression softened to match his tone. “Libby St. James is the true victim in all this.” He stepped around the trunk and closed the distance between them with three quick, easy strides. “She is the one for whom justice must be served. Don’t you agree?”

Caroline managed a nod.

He reached out and laid a hand on her arm.

She should shove him away—she knew she should—but his touch brought surprising comfort. Confused, she took a shuddering breath. Why was he being so kind, so understanding?

Eyes dropped to half-mast, he slid his palm down her sleeve, captured her hand in his, and squeezed gently. Without her gloves there was nothing between them now. At the intimate contact, everything in her calmed. Her heartbeat. Her breathing. Even her thoughts.

It took every ounce of control not to give in to a sigh.

“I read your mother’s letters.”

“You . . .
what
?” Yanking free of his grip, she stumbled back a step, her heart dipping to her stomach. “You—you . . . had no right.”

His tone turned apologetic. “Your grandfather thought otherwise.”

Caroline knew what was in those letters, knew how much her mother had revealed not only about herself but also about her daughter. About
her
.

Jackson Montgomery knew more about her childhood than any living soul, aside from her grandfather.

“How could he have shared them with you?” Her words slipped out in a croaked whisper. She felt betrayed and . . . and . . . What was this strange new emotion? Hope? Relief? Was she so tired of being alone she would risk sharing the burdens of her childhood with this man?

“Your grandfather trusts me, Caroline, and so should you.” He reached for her again and caught her hand. “I won’t hurt you.”

It was the worst thing he could have said, the very words that could cut through her remaining defenses. Despite every instinct to run in the opposite direction, she wanted to stop and lean on someone for a change. She wanted to know there was someone who would fight for her, not against her.

Two cords are stronger than one.

Holding steady, Montgomery didn’t make a move toward her. Not one step closer. “Caroline, you aren’t alone anymore.”

He knew.
He knew how utterly alone she felt. Oh, how she wished she could trust him. But life had taught her well. She couldn’t allow herself the luxury of relying on anyone but herself.

You aren’t alone anymore.

Her breath caught in her throat. What if she let this man become her ally? What would that mean? For her, for Elizabeth?

Elizabeth. How could Caroline lean on Jackson Montgomery, knowing he might very well become her cousin’s husband someday?

Because this wasn’t personal for him, even if it was for her. She didn’t want this man in her life; she couldn’t want him. Love couldn’t be lost if it had never been found.

She smoothed her expression free of all emotion.

“Caroline, I understand what it’s like to take on burdens that seem too heavy to bear at times.” His fingers twined with hers, creating a bond between them that went beyond the words he spoke. “I know what you have endured. I—”

“How can you know?” She extricated her hand from his, furious at herself as much as at him. For a brief moment she’d allowed herself to believe. She’d allowed herself to hope.
Weak, weak girl.
“How can you dare compare us to one another?”

“I know what loneliness is,” he said, his voice full of gravity, his eyes earnest and intense. “I know what it means to be desperate, to—”

“No. Don’t say anything more.” She refused to be moved by the sincerity in his eyes or the undisguised vulnerability on his face. He could be bluffing. She needed him to be bluffing. “You can’t possibly understand what desperation feels like.”

“In that you are wrong. So very wrong.”

“Montgomery, listen, I—”

“Enough talking.” He swooped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him.

Too stunned to move, Caroline held perfectly still as his head lowered toward hers, his blue eyes dark with intent.

Mesmerized, she felt her breath stall in her throat. One word echoed in her mind, sealing her doom. Finally.

Finally.

Jackson had never given in to his base desires, had never allowed emotion to rule his actions. Of course, he’d never been this moved by another person’s pain.

Common sense disappeared, as did all signs of the respectable man he’d fought ruthlessly to become.

Unable to do otherwise, he pressed his lips to Caroline’s. Slowly, gently. She softened in his arms. He murmured her name, and she relaxed further still.

He tightened his hold, pulled her flush against him, and then—

Cold, hard sanity returned.

What was he doing? Caroline was Richard’s granddaughter. Elizabeth’s cousin.

Elizabeth.

Hot tendrils of guilt shot through him. He pulled back. One beat passed, two.

Caroline blinked up at him. Her eyes were glassy, her lips shiny, her breathing erratic. She looked thoroughly kissed.

He’d done that to her.

Sadly, he couldn’t find it in himself to be sorry. Disgusted with his behavior, he released his hold from her waist, only just realizing they were still wrapped in each other’s arms.

He took yet another step back. Away from Caroline. Away from temptation.

“I’m sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair, cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

He’d allowed his control to slip. He’d ignored propriety and had taken what he’d wanted. One forbidden kiss and he’d become no better than his father.
There is none that doeth good, no, not one.

He’d been kidding himself to think otherwise.

Caroline continued to blink up at him, her thoughts unreadable in her expression. “Have you ever kissed my cousin like that?”

He shut his eyes briefly against the guilt racing through him. “No.”

She touched her lips and looked at him strangely, as though taking his measure and seeing him for the first time. “Maybe you should.”

“Pardon me?”

Her hand fluttered back to her side and gripped her skirt. “Maybe you should kiss Elizabeth with that same sort of enthusiasm behind it.”

He simply stared at her. “You cannot be serious.”

She shook her head at him. “That’s the trouble with your kind.”

“My kind?”

“You gentlemen who play by the rules,” she clarified, her tone turning to disappointment. He would prefer her anger. “You are determined to keep your women locked in their perfectly boring, utterly safe little worlds, unaware that these same women might not mind a little rule-breaking every now and again, especially in the areas of kissing and . . . whatnot.”

“Whatnot?”

“Honestly, Montgomery, do I have to spell out everything?”

“Apparently, you do.”

“You are about as obtuse as any man I have met.” She stepped forward and poked him in the chest. “If you want to win my cousin’s hand, you should start by kissing her like you just did me.”

How could the woman speak so casually about this? A long glance in her eyes and he realized she wasn’t as casual as she let on. She was shocked and hurt and lashing out at him.