Love on a Dime (11 page)
Then Harlan rescued her from the shame of fading into the wallpaper. He deserved every ounce of her gratitude and loyalty. He treated her with the admiration accorded the most sought after heiresses, raising her self-assurance, diminishing her shy awkwardness. She had felt cherished and esteemed for the first time since Jack’s abandonment.
Yet, was it enough?
The luster of the evening dulled. Suddenly, the French furniture set against priceless tapestries seemed overdone and the rococo details of the ballroom pure ostentation. Even if the other guests were delighted to prance around the dance floor or indulge in the rich delicacies served in the supper room, she wanted the seclusion of her home and her own bedroom. She knew this wasn’t the abundant life Jesus spoke about in Scripture.
Tears stung the back of her eyes as she stood alone in the midst of the crowd. How ironic that Jack had returned right after she ’d finally gotten over his betrayal and found the man to take his place. Was she so superficial she couldn’t appreciate Harlan’s steadfast devotion? Why did Jack still attract her as no one else ever had? She buried her head in her hands.
Lord, please help me to banish Jack from my life. I can’t seem to do it on my own
.
With a frown furrowing her brow, Irene approached from the noisy ballroom. Harlan trailed behind looking equally upset.
“Is something the matter, Lilly?” Irene drew close and Lilly caught a subtle whiff of her sister-in-law’s gardenia corsage.
Harlan’s rather bland face squeezed with equal concern. “I saw Jackson storm off. I hope he didn’t upset you in some way. He hardly has the manners of a gentleman, given his upbringing.”
Lilly flared. “I assure you his manners are impeccable. And he comes from a respectable family, even if they aren’t rich.”
Harlan shrugged his sloping shoulders, looking bored. “Perhaps you’re right. I certainly don’t wish to quarrel over
Jackson Grail
.” He emphasized the name with a roll of his eyes.
Glancing back toward the ballroom with unconcealed longing, Irene sighed. “Do come. The evening is young and there ’s so much more dancing to do.”
Lilly shook her head. “I’m sorry.” She lifted a hand to her forehead. “I suddenly have the worst of headaches. I’d like to return to Summerhill.” At Irene ’s crestfallen face, she softened. “Please don’t offer to go home with me, either one of you. I’m fine, only dreadfully tired. You two enjoy the rest of the evening.”
“If you’re sure . . .” Irene clasped Lilly’s hands. “I would love to stay a while longer. Dancing is such fun. Harlan can ride home with George and me and Mr. Grail.”
“Splendid.”
Harlan hesitated. “Are you certain, Lilly? I’d be delighted to escort you home. In fact, I really ought to.”
“Thank you, but I refuse to cut your evening short.” She tossed him what she hoped was a warm, reassuring smile.
Excusing herself, Lilly wound her way toward the ladies’ dressing room. Dozens of maids clustered in the area, ready to repair ripped gowns or smooth disheveled hairdos.
In front of the doorway she spotted Annie shaking her head as she inched away from the fellow with the reddish curls—the same man who’d cornered Irene among the plants. Lilly slipped behind the fountain. Through the spray of crystal droplets, she saw only a blurred outline of their faces, but by squinting, she could distinguish Annie ’s furtive glance around the foyer. Why was this man pestering her maid?
While Lilly considered whether to approach the pair, Annie disappeared into the dressing room and he slunk back to the ballroom. What a strange little man, bony and white as a corpse, ogling her sister-in-law and now her maid.
Lilly crossed the vestibule and found Annie packing up her sewing kit. “Who was that man you spoke to a few moments ago?”
Annie frowned. “I don’t know, miss. He didn’t say.” She rearranged a pin cushion and an assortment of colored threads.
Lilly tapped her fan against her skirt. “I’m curious. What did he want from you?”
“He stopped at the door and asked for Mrs. Westbrook’s maid. Since I help both you ladies, I came forward.”
Lilly held her breath. “And?”
Annie avoided Lilly’s steady gaze and fussed with her sewing kit. “He said Mrs. Irene Westbrook needed a pin to mend a tear in the hem of her gown.”
“Don’t you think that was unusual?”
“Why yes, miss, I most certainly do, but the gentleman explained she was dancing and didn’t want to take the time out to get it fixed proper like.”
Lilly nodded. That sounded like Irene, though it still seemed odd she wouldn’t pause for a necessary stitch or two. It seemed a task more appropriate for a husband than a stranger.
On the drive back to Summerhill Lilly leaned into the plush cushion of the carriage, exhausted from the last few days. Could she believe the girl’s explanation? Because of Annie’s sweet, guileless nature, Lilly couldn't imagine otherwise.
J
ack wandered the perimeter of the ballroom, restless and anxious to leave now that Lilly had gone home. Stepping carefully, he sidled between the twirling dancers and the overdressed and overstuffed matrons who lined the walls in their gilded chairs. He surveyed the ocean of faces and recognized quite a few. Though several were school chums, many were business associates from the city who had taken him up as the season’s newest bachelor, a dance partner for their sisters, a challenge for their mothers. Only George qualified as a true friend.
Filled with remorse for firing off at Lilly, Jack refused to play the gracious gentleman and make small talk with the ladies. His disgruntled mood would show right through a congenial façade and he’d fool no one. Better to bow and move on.
After so many years of holding back his opinions, he ’d finally blurted out the truth. He ’d earned the right to occasionally pontificate now that he had made his money and apparently won the respect of society. But good sense dictated he remain silent when nothing could be gained by spouting off. Criticizing Lilly’s beau was stupid, especially since he was a guest in her home. And it displayed a streak of envy he’d rather deny.
From now on he’d curb his impulse to spew unwanted advice. But Lilly’s attraction to the man seared Jack’s insides.
LATE THE FOLLOWING morning Lilly’s heart fluttered when she spotted Jack leaning against the veranda railing, engrossed in a small leather Bible. Surprised by his open display of faith, she tugged at Harlan’s sleeve. “Let’s say hello to Jack.” She ought to stay far away from him, especially after late night’s spat. But his interest in Scripture sparked her curiosity.
“He looks too busy to be disturbed. What about our walk?” Harlan grumbled, glancing toward the rose garden.
“We ’ll go in a minute.”
He gave a long-suffering sigh. “If we must, my dear.”
She led him around the corner of the house where the veranda semi-circled into a spacious porch, open to the sea breezes beneath its conical roof. Why didn’t she wave a casual greeting and stroll off to the garden with Harlan? Nothing required her to speak to Jack, now or ever again, but even after their heated exchange, an invisible force pulled her toward him.
She’d first noticed him the summer he visited her family in Bar Harbor. Her brother George often invited friends, but none were as handsome or as attentive as Jackson Grail. They spent many sunny afternoons swinging on the porch glider, flirting, and playing board games. Jack spun out wild adventures that caught her imagination. One day he planned to sail around the world in search of lost treasure, the next day he expected to mine for gold or silver. He constantly looked for future opportunities to make his fortune. She lost herself in the gleam of his dark eyes as they sipped lemonade and nibbled tea cakes. She didn’t doubt that this scholarship student at the top of his college class would someday succeed at anything he set out to do.
Jack looked up from his Bible and smiled warmly at Lilly. “Hello, Lilly. Harlan. Come join me.” Apparently Jack didn’t hold a grudge from last night’s quarrel.
“Good day. I see you’re reading Scripture.” Lilly and Harlan climbed up the shallow veranda steps. Slipping into a rocker set on a wide Persian carpet, Lilly rearranged the potted palms to catch a better view of him.
Harlan thudded down beside her. As his fingers drummed on the arm of the wicker chair, Lilly struggled to control her annoyance.
Harlan never seemed comfortable around Jack; he fidgeted, fussed, and fumed. She tried to keep the two men apart, but this time curiosity about Jack’s Bible reading overcame her better judgment.
Jack sat beside them, his dark eyes glowing. “I was reading Luke, chapter twelve. Do you mind if I share it with you?”
“If you must,” Harlan murmured.
Lilly ignored him and stared at Jack. “Please,” she encouraged. Lilly leaned forward, curious to learn more about his faith. Years before when they courted, they’d seldom discussed the Lord, but apparently Jack’s interest had increased over the years. After Jack left her, she ’d clung to the Lord because she couldn’t face the loneliness and the hurt by herself. Apparently, he ’d discovered God’s goodness as well.
Jack looked down at the Bible. “And he said unto them, Take heed, and beware of covetousness: for a man’s life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth.”
“Do you find that comforting?” Harlan smirked. He crossed his legs and swung the right one back and forth like a metronome.
Lilly searched Harlan’s rock-hard face for a spark of interest but found only boredom. “Harlan, please.”
“I’m just wondering,” he insisted.
Jack’s steady gaze held no guile, nor self-protective wariness. “No, it’s not a comforting verse.” He placed the Bible on the table. “I see too many people who value their material goods far above their spiritual treasure. And I’m not exempting myself.”
Lilly winced. Most everyone she knew fell into that category. Though she didn’t care as much for earthly treasure as some, she suffered from other faults. Keeping her light hidden under a bushel came to mind. Perhaps Jack was starting to have doubts about the riches he seemed to crave. She hoped his values were shifting.
Harlan grunted. “It’s easy to criticize wealth when you don’t have many earthly treasures. As for those of us who do, yourself included of late, I say all we have to do is acknowledge our good fortune and thank the Lord for His graciousness.”
And excellent judgment
, Lilly finished his unspoken thought. Harlan, like most in society, believed God blessed him with such earthly abundance because he deserved God’s generosity.
Pushing back into the cushion, Harlan folded his arms across his chest.
Alarm boomed in her mind like a thunder bolt. “You’re a committed Christian, aren’t you, Harlan?” She could never marry him if he weren’t. Oil and water didn’t mix.
“Of course I’m a Christian. How can you doubt that?” His face hardened as he swung his leg even faster. “I confess I don’t know much beyond what I learned in Sunday school as a child. While some men in college were reading Scripture or washing dishes, others gambled and courted women. I, on the other hand, studied business. It’s stood me in good stead—at least in this life— and I’m sure I’m headed in the right direction for the next.”
Lilly squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, blocking out Harlan’s pomposity, and then glanced at Jack. His mouth arced downward.
Jack tapped the flimsy, gold-edged pages. “I highly recommend God’s Word. Nothing is more enlightening. You might consider it a form of post-graduate studies.”
Harlan eased back against the cushion. “Yes, I’m sure you’re correct.”
His words were right, but his tone was clear—he thought it foolishness. Lilly hid her distress behind a perfunctory smile. After spending months with Harlan, she ’d thought they shared common beliefs. Although they’d never discussed their faith per se, she’d assumed, apparently incorrectly, they both cherished their relationship with the Lord.
She touched the sleeve of Harlan’s jacket. “It’s so important to study the Bible. Don’t you agree?”
He patted her hand as if she were a child to be pacified. “Of course, my dear.”
Her chest tightened at his patronizing attitude and she struggled to contain her irritation behind a half smile. He didn’t understand Scripture and didn’t care to learn. Should she marry a man when they were unequally yoked?
The obvious answer jolted her for a moment before she remembered that the Lord often softened the hardest of hearts and the most difficult of people. It was all in His time, not her own. She trusted Him to guide her into the future—whatever it might hold—though sometimes she felt sure He was ignoring her and withholding His wisdom. She held on by a thread that threatened to break. No, the Lord wouldn’t allow their connection to sever. His patience overcame her impatience. She felt sure He would direct her footsteps when the time came.
Lilly rose, unwilling to listen to any more of Harlan’s drivel. “Shall we go for our walk now? Excuse us, Jack.”
As they descended the veranda stairs to the back lawn, Lilly twisted around. “I do hope we can discuss the Bible sometime.”
Jack nodded. “I’d like that very much.”
Her family, while churchgoers, seldom read Scripture except during a worship service. Harlan surely couldn’t object to her discussing spiritual things, even with Jack. Yet she looked forward to a discussion with him more than she should.
“The three of us can all mull over religious matters—sometime— if that’s what you want,” Harlan conceded as he smoothed the yellow hairs of his mustache.
But she doubted that with all their social activities, she and Harlan would ever find the time to discuss the Bible in any depth. And that rankled her.
JACK WATCHED HARLAN and Lilly stroll arm-in-arm across the lawn toward the gazebo. Jack closed his Bible and stared at Harlan’s back. George joined Jack on the porch and he knew he should tear his eyes away, but he found it impossible.
“What’s wrong?” George asked, looking quizzically between Jack and the couple in the distance. “Did Harlan say something to anger you? Or maybe Lilly?”
“Lilly needs a husband who understands her faith and devotion to the Lord, not some snobbish rich boy who presumes his money will buy his way into the hereafter.” If Harlan treated her convictions so lightly, he wasn’t worthy of her. And they were headed toward marital misery.
“Hmm, I suppose you’re right. Lilly does have strong spiritual ideals. I doubt Harlan has ever given the Almighty much thought.”
Jack shook his head. “My parents showed me the importance of sharing deeply held beliefs with one ’s spouse. Without that bond, a relationship skims the surface at best.”
George pulled on the tip of his goatee. “You have a deep mind, Jack. Deeper than I thought.”
Jack chuckled. “No, but I understand the obvious.”
His father instilled in his sons a love for learning and for the Lord. He taught them the satisfaction of working hard at a job you enjoyed and that benefited others. Money was always in short supply, but if they were deprived of anything, they didn’t realize it. The love they shared for God and for each other compensated for what they lacked.
“I imagine Lilly hopes for more than Harlan can ever provide. He’ll shower her with more riches than love and eventually disappoint her,” Jack said.
“You paint a dismal picture for her future.”
“I do, indeed. But that’s what I envision.”
Sadness for Lilly compressed Jack’s lungs, leaving a dull ache inside his chest. “Still, Lilly is a grown woman who has made up her mind to be courted by Harlan. She wouldn’t appreciate my interference.” He’d tried to subtly warn her against settling, but she ’d bared her claws at his comments and he ’d retreated.
Why was he torturing himself about Lilly’s future happiness? She neither paused nor hesitated to run straight into Harlan’s outstretched arms. This was her life to ruin. He couldn’t stop her, though he ached to talk some sense into her.
As the sun rose high over the ocean, Jack watched Harlan lead Lilly into the garden.
After he secured Lilly’s help in locating Fannie Cole—and convinced her to come out of hiding—he’d return to New York, his job completed. No more moping over the “happy” couple and wishing for a different ending. He had a publishing house to run and no time to waste on a dead romance.
THAT AFTERNOON ALL the Westbrooks and their houseguests attended a garden party at Grassy Knoll, the Carstairses’ summer cottage on Bellevue Avenue. With cups of punch in hand, Lilly and Miranda wandered the grounds with a few hundred other guests. They stopped beneath the wide skirt of a maple tree when Mama spotted them and strode over, a determined set to her mouth. Lilly breathed deeply and then gave a tentative smile.
“Grand party, isn’t it, Mama?” she asked as her mother joined them in the shade. Her mother looked especially lovely in her burgundy silk frock, matching hat, and parasol.
Mama’s eyes narrowed. “It is,” she said without enthusiasm. “While I have the opportunity, I must share some disturbing news. One of my friends—who shall remain nameless—spotted you at an Elna Price book signing with Jackson Grail. Well, naturally, I informed her she was mistaken. But she insisted she was not. What do you have to say for yourself, Lillian?” Mama had a difficult time putting outrage or authority into her voice, but Lilly heard the high note of panic. No one could survive socially if one ’s name was bandied about town.
“I did go to the book shop. I know Irene enjoys her dime novels. Jack happened to be there as well. But we certainly didn’t go together or plan to meet. Your friend needs to stop telling tales, Mama.”
Her mother’s hunched shoulders relaxed and her usual smile returned. She glanced nervously at Miranda. “I am quite relieved. I was so afraid you’d compromised your reputation. What would Harlan think if he heard you were off with Jackson?”
Lilly stiffened while Miranda turned away, obviously embarrassed to witness such a private discussion. “Harlan would believe me because I’m telling the truth about Jack.”
“Be that as it may, he might not overlook damaging gossip. Certainly his mother wouldn’t. Guard your reputation, Lillian.”
Lilly choked back an unkind comment about Dolly Santerre, keeping in mind that she was Harlan’s mother—not to mention Miranda’s aunt and Mama’s friend.
A gust of wind lifted the brim of Mama’s hat and stirred the silk flowers, greenery, and tulle wrapped around the crown. “I’ve noticed how Jackson follows you all over Summerhill. I’m not accusing you of encouraging him. But you must not give him any reason to hope you’ll return his affection. I’m quite sure Harlan will propose soon, yet he seems a bit unsure about your feelings. Don’t give him cause to doubt you.”
“No, of course I won’t.”
Mama leveled a serious gaze. “You do want to marry Harlan, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course I do.”
She couldn’t marry Jack. Even if he wanted her, she ’d have to tell him about her writing. He ’d insist she make Fanny Cole a household name and face. The publicity would ruin them all. Not that she could ever trust him—