A Hope Beyond (38 page)

Carolina felt her breath quicken and her heart race. Just the suggestion of such things was far more than she’d ever related in conversation with a man.

“I would give you my name, my fortune, and my daughter. You in turn would give me a stable home for the child and oversee my affairs, thus freeing me to leave the state. You would have my entire fortune at your disposal to do with as you saw fit. My lawyer would handle the actual paper workings of my affairs, however he would be left with instructions to yield to any decision you might make.

You would be Mrs. Blake St. John, and you would be mother to Victoria.”

Carolina was stunned beyond words. There was no need to worry about responding in haste to his suggestion; she could scarcely breathe, much less voice a protest.

“I would then be able to leave before the summer is out and make my way first to New York, where I have other matters to settle. It would be my plan to winter in Chicago and hook up with a team going west to Oregon in the spring. I would give you my solemn vow to never again return to Baltimore, nor seek to make any claim upon my rights as your husband.”

“What if the West didn’t agree with you?” Carolina asked, suddenly finding her voice.

“I promise you, I would not return to Baltimore. Perhaps I would venture to Europe or maybe farther yet, but I would not impose myself in your life, of that I assure you.”

“But what of the vows made? What of the pledges to God to take care of each other, to cherish, and to love? You are suggesting that I promise before the God I esteem and worship that I will say one thing and do an entirely different thing?”

Blake eased back in his chair and ran a hand through his ebony hair. “It matters not to whom you make the pledge. I see no reason to set this thing up in church. I do not esteem God, as you put it, and I certainly have little regard for the church. A quiet ceremony here, in the parlor, would be far more to my liking. There is little need to make the rhetorical pledges when we both know that such matters do not concern our arrangements.”

Carolina shook her head. “I do not believe I could marry under those circumstances. I just don’t know how I could promise my life to a man I had no intention of being wife to.”

Blake pounded his hands down on the desk and swore softly. “You stand on ceremony and religious nonsense when the life of a child is at stake?”

“Why condemn me, when you have little regard for that child?”

“At least I am honest about it.”

“How dare you?” Carolina jumped to her feet and leaned menacingly across the desk. She felt a rage inside her that would not be ignored. “You know full well that I love Victoria. You dangle her before my nose like some kind of human carrot and expect me to yield to your idea of justice and resolution.” Her voice was unnaturally calm as she met Blake’s angry eyes. “Like a coward you run from life and love and throw your only living offspring into the path of oncoming destruction with nothing more than the simple explanation that at least you are honest. Well, good for you and your honesty, Blake St. John. A more selfish creature I have never had the misfortune to meet.”

“Calm yourself, Miss Adams. You may rage at me all you like, and it will not change my offer. I will not be moved from my decision to leave.”

“And if I say no to this preposterous proposal?” She was breathing hard and pulled herself back from the desk, as if hoping the distance would dispel her misery.

“Then I will take Victoria and deposit her in the care of the state orphanage.”

Carolina gasped. “You wouldn’t. Even you can’t be that cruel.”

Blake stood up. “You underestimate me if you think not.” He walked to the door of the study and opened it slowly. “I believe I have said all that I care to on the matter. This is my final offer, and I will need your answer by the end of this week.” He turned to go, then glanced back at her with a cold and calculated look. “I promise you one thing, Miss Adams, this is no idle threat. I mean to be about my business within two weeks’ time.”

42
Reconciliation

On the final day given Carolina to make her choice, two letters arrived by post. One was from her father and the other was from Lucy. Taking herself to her room, Carolina opened her father’s letter first.

1842, July 20

Dearest Daughter,

I have seen your mother safely to Boston, and she seemed content that
the nurses were so congenial to her condition. One woman, Nurse Ribley,
offered your mother a baby doll, and she took to it with great comfort. The
doctor suggests no contact with her for at least three months, and while it
will be difficult to heed his advice, I am convinced that nothing else can be
done to benefit her.

Virginia believes the timing to be a godsend, as she announced that
she will deliver a child at the end of September. This, of course, is very
stunning news, given the fact that she shows no sign of this condition and
yet it is already July. I assume she kept it to herself because of her three
previous miscarriages. Hampton seems pleased with the prospect of an heir.
He works from sunup to sundown, and often I don’t see him for days as he
masterminds one innovation or another. He is too heavy-handed with the
slaves, and I’ve often admonished him to ease up, but he is quite capable of
turning a profit for us. And given the way Oakbridge has flourished when
many around us have failed, I must give the man credit.

Carolina scoffed at this idea. Hampton Cabot was a man who sought to benefit himself and no one else. She would never trust him.

She read on and learned that Georgia was quite happily settled and, for the first time in a long time, seemed to have found the perfect place for herself. There had been a brief missive from Maine. It seemed he had spent time in the ever-growing settlement of Dubuque, on the Mississippi River. He told of the incredible beauty of the land and the impressive expanse of the Mississippi, while also relaying that lead mining was the main attraction to the progressive nature of this particular community.

“Of course,” her father wrote, “the letter was dated in June, only weeks after he’d departed from Oakbridge. He must have made good time indeed in reaching the Mississippi in that short time.”

The letter concluded by asking about her general state of health and the conditions in which she was enduring the summer. If only you knew, Papa, she thought and folded the letter to replace it in the envelope. She suddenly longed for a lengthy chat with him and wondered what he might say regarding the matter of Blake St.

John’s proposal.

Lucy’s letter offered the highlights of their steamy summer in Philadelphia. Lucy, however, was glad to be back in her home city. Her father’s health was failing, and it seemed that the doctors believed him to have some sort of liver disorder. Lucy related that his skin had turned positively yellow, and she feared he might not live through the summer. Since VanBuren left office, York and his family had settled in Philadelphia, and he had been working as a congressional aide to his father-in-law. With the man now ill, York had assumed many of his father-in-law’s duties and found that people respected his ability to serve in government. Lucy fully expected him to run for her father’s office during the next election, and with Henry Alexander’s support, she had little doubt he would be elected to Congress. Carolina smiled at this thought, knowing very well that nothing would please her brother more. The letter continued with a surprising addition that, while Amy and Andy were doing well, Lucy believed it very possible that she was again with child. She promised to confirm this in future letters and signed it with great affection.

Tucking the letters into a desk drawer, Carolina took pen in hand and thought to write her father about her circumstance. She hesitated, however, and stared at the blank piece of paper for some time. Her family was doing well, and this brought her great joy, but it also made her realize how unnecessary her presence was in their lives.

Oakbridge ran smoothly without her, and while she might not approve of Hampton’s manner, she certainly believed her father capable of keeping him under control. Virginia would bear a new heir and certainly had no need of Carolina. In fact, Carolina had little doubt but what Virginia would take special delight in pointing out that Carolina was an old maid with no hope for a future beyond playing auntie or nanny to someone else’s children. That was something Carolina could never abide.

Maine was securely away doing the work of God, a noble cause to be sure and one that Carolina actually envied. At least he was out in the world living life as he saw fit. He knew what he was called to do, and he had not turned his back on that calling.

Mother and Georgia were both safely settled, and even her father sounded far happier than she’d known him to be in months. There was no need for her to hurry home to Oakbridge. No one waited there for her return. No one pleaded with her to come back.

She sighed and replaced the pen in the inkwell and walked to the window. Down below, the bustle of the Baltimore street only served as a reminder that the entire world continued on around her, with very little consideration as to where she fit in or what she might do.

Blake St. John was offering her a vast fortune. Not just money. Hardly that. He was offering her the freedom of a married woman whose husband had given her complete control of her life. He was offering her a child whom she loved as her own. There was no telling what the future might hold for her if she agreed to marry the man.

She could certainly buy more railroad stock. That thought made her smile. She could venture to Europe and see the world that so often had held her spellbound in books. Yes, she could travel with Victoria, teaching her as they went along their way. She could speak French adequately enough that they might even take up residence in Paris for a time. The possibilities began to stagger her mind.

“Marriages were arranged all the time in the Bible,” she murmured. “Is it any different only because I myself make the arrangements?”

She thought of Victoria and knew without any further consideration that she could never allow the child to go to an orphanage. So long as there was breath in her body, she would fight by whatever means it took to save the child from that fate. And, in her heart of hearts, she knew that if her only means to save Victoria was marriage to Blake St. John, she would marry him.

Stunned, she stepped back from the window and nodded. “Yes,” she whispered. It was that simple. Blake would have his freedom, and he had already demonstrated his disregard for Victoria. It would matter little to him whether she went to an orphanage or grew up in Carolina’s tender care.

“But it must matter; otherwise he would not have proposed such a marriage to me.” She smiled. He did care about Victoria, if only a little. He cared enough to humble himself and join with a woman he would never love, all in order to meet Carolina’s demands of security and well-being.

It was the first time she had realized that Blake’s proposal had come solely out of his concerns for her reputation and future happiness. Now who was being selfish? she thought and felt a bit of shame for her earlier misgivings.

You only fear that if you marry Blake St. John, you will forever lose any chance of marriage to James Baldwin, she chided herself. But James Baldwin clearly doesn’t even know I exist. He has all but forgotten me by now, and the evidence is in his lack of communication. He could find me if he wanted to. He knows that Papa would tell him of my whereabouts. He surely knows that his own father is in touch with me via the monthly statements regarding the Potomac and Great Falls Railroad.

If James Baldwin loved me as I love him, Carolina thought with a heavy heart, he would long ago have sought me out and declared such a thing. Hugging her arms to her body, Carolina felt an unseasonable chill. It was said that time could heal all wounds and that the heart would forget its sorrow, but five years had done little to dull the ache or fill the void left by James.

Her mind went back in time to Granny’s words of knowing the truth within yourself. “The truth is, I love one man who will never love me, and I will marry another who feels exactly the same way.” She tried not to feel morose. It was still her choice, she reminded herself. She could walk away and forget Victoria. She could close her mind and heart to the entire matter, and no one would ever blame her if she did just that. But deep inside, the one truth she was sure of was that she would forever condemn herself if she walked away from Victoria.

“I am resolved to be happy,” she whispered, choking back tears. “I will marry Blake St. John and take Victoria as my own daughter, and I will be happy, even if it means I might never know the love of any man.”

She went to the desk once again and picked up her pen. She would write her father immediately and request that he come to Baltimore to stand with her as witness to her marriage. Carefully, she worded her message, then blotted the ink and hurriedly placed the letter into an envelope and sealed it before she could change her mind.

Next, she changed into a very becoming gown of mauve silk and mulberry lace. The color suited her and the style made her look very mature with its tight-fitted bodice and high collar. Next, she dressed her hair, parting it carefully in the middle to sweep both sides back into a fashionable bun. She wrapped a mulberry-colored ribbon around her head several times, artfully weaving it into her hair. The final touch of her toilette was to spray on a hint of lavender scent and attach an emerald broach to her bodice.

Standing back to take in her appearance, Carolina smiled stiffly. Whether Blake St. John appreciated her efforts or not, she felt worthy to accept his proposal and to take charge of his household.

Hearing the arrival of his coach, Carolina steadied her nerves and gave him enough time to settle into his office before making her way downstairs. With letter in hand, Carolina walked down the long narrow hallway, pausing at the top of the staircase to whisper a prayer.