Journey's End (Gilded Promises) (23 page)

Of course, it would be the height of impoliteness to assume such a thing without checking first. She excused herself.

Her aunt’s voice stopped her.

“No, dear, I didn’t mean here. We shall go to the Waldorf,” she declared. “That is where all the best people take tea. I have already made the arrangements.”

Caroline hesitated, turning slowly around to face her aunt once again. Despite her aunt’s imperious tone, if she was honest with herself, the suggestion was not an unwelcome one. Perhaps a public setting would be a better place to try to trick her aunt into revealing something important. Not that she believed Katherine St. James was guilty. So far, the older woman had treated Caroline with nothing but kindness.

Then again, that could all be part of her game.

“What a lovely idea,” Caroline said. “Let me see if Granny wishes to join us.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized she’d spoken as if the older woman was her first priority, as if Granny were her
real
grandmother.

Caroline should be so blessed.

Unfortunately, her suggestion was met with a hint of disapproval from her aunt. “The invitation only includes you, Caroline.” Her voice was firm but not completely unkind. “Seeing as this is our first chance to get to know one another, I would prefer today’s outing only include immediate family.”

Family
. Her aunt said the word with such warmth and acceptance, as if Caroline was truly one of them, as if she truly belonged. Under the circumstances, she found herself warming to the older woman and quite unable to argue the point.

Elizabeth had no such qualms. “But, Mother. What does it matter where we take tea? I had hoped we would do so here, with Granny and her little dogs.”

“Those horrid creatures?” Katherine visibly shuddered. “They are a nuisance. If they are not nipping at one’s toes, they are shedding upon one’s dress.” Her lips pursed in displeasure. “I think we can all agree on that point.”

Caroline didn’t mind the dogs—they were really rather adorable—but if her aunt considered them a
nuisance
, then perhaps she should make her excuses with Granny.

Caroline teetered on indecision.

It was Granny herself who solved the problem. “Is that my dear Elizabeth’s voice?” She entered the foyer with her chin lifted and one of her little dogs tucked under her arm. “Oh, Katherine, you are here, too. Do come in and join me in the parlor. Caroline was just about to ring up some tea.”

Katherine shook her head. “We were just heading out.”

A moment of tension fell over the two women. Was there to be an argument, then? Over something as innocuous as where they were going to drink their tea?

Who knew something so frivolous could turn into a battlefield. Caroline would never understand society. Never. She wasn’t altogether sure that was a bad thing, quite the opposite, actually.

Of the two, Granny was the most strong-willed. “Nonsense, Katherine, I won’t hear of you and Elizabeth leaving now that you are here. Now, follow me.”

The older woman spoke with such authority Katherine St. James had little recourse other than to relent. So polite, her manners so impeccable, she even gave in to Granny’s request with a gracious bob of her head.

Almost as soon as the four of them were settled in their chosen seats in the parlor, the tea tray arrived.

“Be so kind as to serve, Caroline.”

“With pleasure, Granny.” Caroline performed the ritual of pouring the fragrant brew into four matching teacups. A plume of steam wafted over her hand as she passed them around their tiny group. A cheerful rattle of spoons followed as each woman added varying amounts of sugar and cream and, in Caroline’s case, lemon.

“Well, my dear,” Katherine began, setting her spoon on the edge of her saucer and looking Caroline in the eye. “How are you settling in?”

There was no subterfuge in the question, just general curiosity. “Quite well, thank you.”

Smiling, Caroline passed a plate of shortbread around. A
marmalade-hued dog jumped on the table and began nosing around the tea service.

At Katherine’s disapproving scowl, Caroline quickly picked up the furry troublemaker and set him back on the ground. In the ensuing silence, she worked the next round of conversation through her mind. This was her chance to find out who had commandeered her mother’s letters. Surely her aunt knew something.

In fact, Katherine St. James might have been the one to commit the tragic sin herself, although that seemed unlikely. Her aunt had been kindness itself to Caroline. And yet, there was something not quite right in the way she treated her. It was as if Katherine were intentionally trying to appease Caroline. But to what end?

If only Caroline had prepared herself better for this opportunity. “Aunt Katherine, would you tell me about my mother? You were friends with her, yes?”

“Your mother and I were great friends.” Katherine set her cup and saucer on the table beside her and smiled. “The very best.”

Despite the smile, the grief was there, in her eyes, in the catch in her voice. Caroline couldn’t fault the woman’s sincerity. And yet . . .

“You miss her,” Caroline said.

“I do.” She sighed. “Oh, but I do.”

Elizabeth frowned. “But, Mother, you never speak of her.”

After a long hesitation, Katherine waved a dismissive hand at her daughter. “That is because it is too difficult to speak of her.”

And yet, her aunt seemed to have no problem speaking of Libby now. The contradiction between the woman’s words and her behavior kept Caroline alert. “How did you know my mother?”

“We went to school together.” Her eyebrow twitched before she turned her back on Caroline and focused on her daughter. “Libby is the one who introduced me to your father.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.” Elizabeth’s sigh turned all heads in her direction. “How romantic.”

Romantic? Caroline was thinking how odd it was that at nineteen Elizabeth was only now hearing this important piece of information about her parents. Once again sensing something not quite right, Caroline leaned forward and studied Katherine’s face closely, looking for any signs of subterfuge. She found nothing but a hint of embarrassment in the flutter of Katherine’s eyelashes, in her slightly pink cheeks and stiff posture.

Caroline tried to recall her conversation with Elizabeth during their walk along Sixth Avenue. Due to her father’s gambling, Katherine hadn’t always been treated well by society. She’d been openly humiliated by her peers for wearing a dress more than once.

Libby St. James would have been kind to Katherine despite how others treated her, perhaps even
because
of how others treated her. Sadly, Libby’s soft heart had led to her downfall. No woman filled with that much tenderness could have survived the mean streets of Whitechapel.

“It was indeed romantic.” Katherine released an airy laugh, giving nothing away of her pain as a young girl. Caroline couldn’t help but be impressed. She knew what it meant to be on the outside looking in and felt a moment of kinship with her aunt. “Your father was very sought after. Many young women wanted an introduction.”

“But you were the one who managed to gain his notice.” Elizabeth clapped her hands together in excitement, her dreamy gaze full of wonder. “Tell me how he asked you to marry him.”

“You have heard the tale a thousand times.”

“I adore the story. Tell it again. Please, Mother, for my cousin’s ears, as well as mine.”

“Oh, very well.” Although Katherine’s voice was full of impatience, Caroline sensed that her aunt was happy to tell the tale of how she became Mrs. Marcus St. James. Caroline wasn’t nearly so eager. She would rather hear more about her mother. She desperately wanted to question her aunt about the years prior to and then after Libby left for London. She would have to find a way to do so before the visit was complete.

Biding her time, she listened to her aunt’s story with the hope of gleaning more information about Libby. Perhaps Katherine would reveal something important, some small bit of information that would lead to another, and still another, continuing until Caroline found the missing piece she was looking for, the nugget that would tell her who in her family had wanted Libby St. James out of their lives for good.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Several days after having tea with her aunt and cousin, Caroline woke to the sound of rain scratching against the windows. She’d learned nothing overly helpful during their time together, other than the fact that Marcus St. James was a consummate husband and father. Her aunt had been adamant on those points, a little too adamant, which left Caroline quite suspicious of the man.

It was a good thing she would be meeting him again in a few hours, since today was to be her first day of work at her grandfather’s office. Unable to sleep any longer, she rolled out from beneath the covers and padded barefoot to the fireplace.

She tossed on a few more logs, grabbed the poker, and proceeded to stoke the fire back to life. Hot orange flames exploded upward, the wood cracking and popping. It never occurred to her to wake Sally to help her with the task. She’d spent too many years taking care of the basic household chores on her own that she would never burden another person to do what she could easily do for herself.

Besides, Sally was more advisor now than maid. Caroline had been fortunate to find her at the Waldorf-Astoria, more fortunate still to talk Sally into joining her at Granny’s. Sally was a plethora of information about the inner workings of New York society. Yet, no matter how many times Caroline pressed the girl about her background, Sally never revealed where she came from or how she’d gleaned her working knowledge of this world.

Once the fire burned on its own, Caroline pulled a soft-backed chair closer and considered the stack of books on the nearby table. Last night, she’d padded down the hallway to the library after dinner and, with Granny’s permission, had chosen a few to bring back to her room.

Unfortunately, none of the titles caught her interest this morning. She opened a book, read the first two pages, then immediately lost interest. After repeating the process two more times, she gave up on the idea of reading.

Her mind wanted to wander. She let it. Memories from her time aboard ship mingled with images from her first days with Mary on Orchard Street. Much had changed since those days. Caroline had changed. Her
heart
had changed.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the chair and let her thoughts tangle over one another. She’d come to avenge her mother’s death and had yet to do so. Her grandfather hadn’t ignored her mother’s letters, as she’d thought, but someone had intentionally kept Libby from reuniting with her family. Possibly her uncle. Maybe her aunt, despite their pleasant interaction the other day. Or someone else in the household? A servant, perhaps?

No, that didn’t make sense at all. What would a servant hope to gain?

She was more confused than ever.

At least Jackson had agreed to help her uncover the identity of the traitor. They would begin their quest in earnest today. She would insist on some time with her uncle.

“You look peaceful.”

Accustomed to Sally’s light steps, Caroline opened her eyes slowly and smiled. “All part of the illusion.”

Eyes concerned, Sally belted her robe with a hard yank. “You want to talk about him?”

Caroline didn’t insult either of them by pretending to misunderstand who Sally meant. “There’s nothing to discuss. Jackson Montgomery will soon be courting another. It’s really that simple.”

It had to be. For her cousin’s sake.

“Simple?” Sally picked up the poker and moved around the dying embers until flames burst forth once again. Her long, golden hair fell in waves down her back. “Hardly. You’re going to be working alongside him every day.”

Yes, that was true. “It changes nothing.”

Gaze averted, Sally moved to the window and looked out. “Rain’s stopped. Dawn will be here soon.”

“I suppose I should begin dressing for the day.”

Picking up a hairbrush off the vanity, Sally directed Caroline to the chair in front of the mirror and pressed her into the seat. “Let me help you with your hair.”

Caroline captured the girl’s hand. “I’m perfectly capable of brushing my own hair.”

“I know.” Sally smiled at her in the mirror, her light blue eyes shining in the glass. “But I want to do this for you. And you should let me. It’s what you pay me to do.”

“No, it’s not.” She squeezed Sally’s hand. “You are here because you’re my friend.”

Something came and went in Sally’s eyes. “Humor me, Miss—”

“Caroline.”

“Humor me, Caroline.”

Their eyes met a moment longer. Caroline released Sally’s hand. “Thank you, Sally. I would like nothing more than to have you brush my hair.”

With a hard swallow, Sally nodded and promptly got to work.

Two hours later, dressed in a dark green skirt and high-necked, cream-colored lace blouse with a cameo pinned at her throat, Caroline stepped into the elevators of her grandfather’s building.

“Good morning again, miss.” The attendant seemed to recognize
her from her previous visit. He’d been running the elevator that day, too.

“Good morning.” She smiled at the older gentleman. He struck up a conversation about the weather, which gave her an opportunity to study him more closely. He had a full shock of white hair, matching handlebar mustache, and the kindest eyes she’d ever seen. There was wisdom in their depths. She doubted much got past him. “Is Mr. St. James in his office yet?”

“Yes, ma’am, he arrived at seven o’clock as usual.”

A full hour ahead of her. She made a mental note to arrive earlier tomorrow morning. If her grandfather could get himself to the office at the crack of dawn, then so could she.

“And Mr. Marcus St. James? Is he here as well?”

The attendant’s lips pulled together in a tight smile. “No, miss, he doesn’t usually arrive for several more hours.” He focused on the elevator door. “But Mr. Montgomery is here.”

The comment confirmed what Caroline had already suspected. Jackson and her grandfather ran the company, not father and son. How would she ever get to know her uncle, and thus find out whether he was behind the intercepted letters, if he wasn’t in the office on a regular basis? Perhaps she should have taken her grandfather up on the offer to live in his home after all.

No, that would have been the very worst beginning. If she was to build a lasting relationship with her family, she needed to do so carefully, slowly, deepening the connections over time.

The thought pulled her up short, and she twisted her hands together at her waist. Did she want a lasting relationship with her grandfather, with any of her family?

Yes, yes she did. Desperately.

Somewhere between her entry through Ellis Island and the discovery that Richard St. James had not abandoned his daughter, Caroline had discovered a desire to open her heart, just a little. To find a place where she belonged.

Home. Family.

Permanence.

What did she know about any of that? She knew she wanted all three.

You do not receive because you do not ask.
Was Mary right? Was the secret to Caroline’s happiness as basic as a prayer? No. God hadn’t answered her prayers before. She dared not hope He would do so now.

The elevator bounced to a halt.

“We’re here, miss. The fifteenth floor.” The attendant reached across her to pull back the metal gate.

“Oh, yes, I . . .” Caroline shook her head. “I realize I don’t know your name.”

“It’s Harold, miss.”

“Thank you, Harold.”

“Go on, now.” He nudged her out of the elevator. “The boss is waiting.”

Refusing to give in to the sudden bout of nerves, she brightened her smile, adjusted her attitude, and stepped onto the landing.

Jackson stood waiting for her. Of course. The man always seemed to arrive just when she needed an ally. Solid. Handsome. Present. When had the fragile line between enemy and adversary transformed into something more like comrade and friend?

Here we go again.
As was becoming their habit, they spent the next few heartbeats staring at one another. The memory of their remarkable kisses—not kiss,
kisses
—had her releasing a shaky sigh.

Her heart picked up speed. Her mouth went dry. Her thoughts collided together into one big knot of confusing, unrelated words.

Smiling, Jackson reached out his hand to her. She took it, felt something akin to pins and needles shoot through her.

“You’re early,” he said, tucking her hand around his arm, a hint of respect in his voice.

A pang of guarded tenderness spread through her lungs. “You’re earlier.”

“So I am.” From beneath his dusky lashes his gaze moved across her face. The contemplative pull of his eyebrows made her wonder if he even realized he was studying her so closely.

“Since we have the same destination”—he turned her in the direction of her grandfather’s office—“we might as well proceed together.”

Proceed together, as if they were a single unit heading toward a common goal. They were, of course, if only on a temporary basis.

A sense of belonging swept through Caroline, making her feel as though this was exactly where she was supposed to be at this very moment in time.

Home. Family. Permanence.

Dare she hope all three were within her reach?

Oh, Lord, please, I so want . . .

She had no idea how to finish the prayer. What did she want? And from whom? Jackson?

Alarm tripped along her spine, stealing her breath. She wasn’t supposed to be this connected to a man who was so completely out of her reach.

Even without her cousin in the picture, they weren’t well suited. Yet, for now, at this brief moment, their steps were in sync, each of them moving in silent accord with the other, as if they’d walked this path before. And would do so again.

Caroline cast a quick glance in his direction, not at all surprised to find that he was equally lost in thought.

Jackson pulled them to a halt outside her grandfather’s office. “Ready for this?”

With his solid presence by her side, she was ready for anything. “I am.”

He smiled, a tender sweet lift of his lips. “I believe that you are.”

After a cursory knock, Jackson twisted the knob, and they stepped inside the office together.

Despite her earlier calm, her feet turned to lead and her thoughts were riddled with doubts. Her life changed today. Her entire future hung in the balance. The only thing that helped her take a step deeper into the room was the knowledge that she wasn’t alone. She had her grandfather on her side. And Jackson.

She had Jackson on her side, too.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jackson watched Caroline closely. Sensing her nerves, he kept his arm linked with hers. A silent show of support. She’d grown uncharacteristically quiet since they’d entered Richard’s office.

Richard set down his pen and stood. “I see you two have found one another.”

An odd choice of words. “I ran into Caroline by the elevators.” Jackson didn’t add that he’d been awaiting her arrival, thinking she might need, perhaps even want, his support this morning.

He hadn’t been wrong. She was still holding on to him, and he wasn’t about to let her go, either.

Richard smiled at his granddaughter. “I’m pleased by your punctuality.”

She didn’t try to brush aside the compliment but accepted it with a nod of her head. “What can I say? I’m eager to begin.”

“Then it’s fortuitous you ran into Jackson.” Richard leaned back against his desk and waved the two into the matching chairs facing his desk. They extricated themselves from one another and took their seats.

“He’ll be in charge of your orientation today,” Richard continued, “assuming that’s satisfactory with you both?”

They each nodded their agreement.

“Does this mean I won’t see you at all today?” Caroline’s shoulders slumped slightly forward, the only sign of her disappointment. “I had hoped to spend at least a portion of the day with you.”

“As had I, but something has come up, an issue with a client that needs my personal attention.” He straightened to his full height. “I will make it up to you tomorrow.”

“That will be fine.” She sounded disappointed.

“Do you have any particular thoughts as to where I should begin Caroline’s education?” Jackson asked.

Richard lobbed the question back at him. “What would you suggest?”

He’d been thinking on the matter for some time and had decided on several plans of attack. He quickly sorted through them in his head and then made his decision. “An overview of all our holdings would be a wise place to start, then perhaps a tour of—”

“The tenement houses on the Lower East Side,” Caroline finished for him.

He wasn’t surprised she’d want to start there. Of course, now that John Reilly was making unannounced visits on Jackson’s behalf, it wasn’t necessary they go there today. But if Caroline wanted to start her tour of their properties on Orchard Street, then that was where they would start. Jackson looked at Richard and lifted a questioning brow.

The older man glanced out the window. “I see the rain has let up. You might as well start with the tour first, before the streets become too crowded. You can review the holdings after lunch.” He turned to Caroline. “Do those plans meet with your approval?”