Heiress (20 page)

“It’s a lie, Mother. He isn’t the playboy Foster has made him out to be.”

“So he says. Considering your situation, I might argue otherwise.” Her mother moved over to her desk, opened the drawer. “You will invite Foster home.” She pulled out stationery, a quill pen, and ink. “You will throw yourself into his arms and beg for his love.”

Jinx burned inside at her words, tasting the shame.

“You will make sure that when he leaves again, he believes this child is his.”

This child would never, ever be his.

Jinx found her voice, somewhere under her disgust. “He won’t come home to see me. He must have a reason to return to Rosehaven.”

“You have one. The motor carriage cotillion. He won’t refuse your reminder to be the charming host of Newport’s most coveted ball.”

“What about the bed rest?” The other solution lay in the unspoken. Getting up and going about her daily activities, even strenuous ones, might guarantee that Foster never discovered her indiscretions.

Which indeed might be God’s will.

“If I go to bed, word will leak out. Foster will discover the truth. Perhaps—perhaps I should let God determine my fate.” But even as she said it, she wanted to weep.

Oh, indeed, she was a wretched woman. She couldn’t lose this child.

Her mother drew in a long breath. “Very well. We will leave it to fate. She piled the stationery on a bed desk, moved it over to Jinx. “No more driving.”

No more driving, indeed.

“I should tell Bennett.”

Her mother stared at her as if she’d announced she might bathe naked at Bailey’s Beach. “Have you lost your mind? Bennett must never, ever know.” She took Jinx’s hand. “If he finds out, he will want to woo you, to make it right between you. I promise you this, Jinx, no good can ever come from following your heart. You must be clever, my daughter, and don’t let fate betray you, or your sins will follow you forever. This is the only way out. Your future is in your own hands.”

Never had Newport seen such a party. And never had God provided a more beautiful night for a woman to betray her heart.

After all, what choice did she have? She hadn’t miscarried, which seemed a divine joke, of sorts. The stars glittered overhead, scorning Jinx as she watched her guests dance in her glorious ballroom to the orchestra from New York City, the waltzes and polkas of Debussy and Chopin swirling through the marble hall and spilling out on the open doors of the terrace.

Parked in the front circle, around the fountain, motorcars of all styles decorated her yard—De Dion Bouton’s model L’s from Germany, and Peugeots from France. Even a Ford quadricycle. Foster had his stable of motorcars polished and bedecked with wreaths of flowers, vines and ivy twined into the spokes of the wheels. Among the wreaths, glow lights sparkled, capturing the greens and reds and gold edging of the vehicles, accentuating their magnificence.

For the cotillion, Jinx had salvaged a gold-edged dress from her pregnancy trousseau, with an accompanying picture hat, swaths of red and gold ribbon at the brim to match Foster’s driving clothes.

He appeared the master of his kingdom in a black satin jacket, black leather pants, and a plaid derby he wore during the parade. He’d swept in two days before the ball as if he hadn’t spent the past month away, and spoken as few words as possible, it seemed, to accomplish his orders. Now he stood on the terrace, engaged in conversation with men from the Newport Reading Room. She recognized William Vanderbilt and John Jacob Astor, who had driven their newest acquisitions, their wives beside them on the leather seats.

Jinx rode with Foster, despite her mother’s silent objections. But really, she had no choice if she hoped to stay in Foster’s favor.

If she hoped to woo him into her charade.

She’d survived the past two weeks without Bennett’s dangerous companionship, her secret growing inside her, waiting every day for the cramping, the grief.

She hadn’t miscarried. Which meant that God indeed intended her sins to be displayed, to follow her all her days.

She knew she should be afraid. Instead, she wanted to weep with gratitude.

Meanwhile, Bennett and Elise’s social appearances in the
Newport
Daily News
dug a furrow through her.

What would Bennett do if he knew? She longed to tell him, to see his expression. Would he feel the same sweet agony that swept her to tears in the thin hours of the night? How could such a terrible sin reap such joy?

She already loved the child inside her. And if she had to behave like a wanton chorus girl to seduce her husband, to conceal her secret, she would find the strength.

“You look most lovely tonight, Jinx.” Grayson Donahue edged up to her, his flute of champagne glittering against the electric lights on the terrace. He appeared regal and very eligible in a gold-threaded black waistcoat, top hat, and a pair of pinstriped breeches.

“Thank you, Grayson. I noticed your new De-Dion Bouton outside. It’s beautiful. I love the gold-fringed cover. Very practical.”

“I heard about your accident in the park. I’m so sorry about your carriage, but I’m thankful you are unhurt.”

“I suppose you read about it in the
News?”

“Actually, Bennett related the story to me not long ago during a tennis match. He is an adept singles player.”

Just the mention of Bennett’s name could send a thrill through her. She drew in a steadying breath. “Indeed.”

“Perhaps we could challenge you and him to another match,” Grayson said. He had kind eyes. “Or better yet, we’ll best Elise and Bennett.”

Elise and Bennett. After a month of seeing their names appear together, certainly she would have grown accustomed to the cadence of it, but traitorous tears burned her eyes and she had to force a smile, turn into the night. “Unfortunately, I will be closing Rosehaven early this year. Mr. Worth has obligations in New York City.”

“But certainly you’ll stay for the wedding, won’t you?”

She tried to bite back her gasp, the way the words she should have expected dug into her even before she asked, “Whose wedding?”

“I shouldn’t say anything—their engagement isn’t yet announced.” Grayson winked at her. “But I think we both saw it coming, didn’t we? Bennett is a splendid match for Elise. I am happy for them both.” He lifted his glass, as if to toast them, and she nodded in agreement.

The night dipped around her, her stomach light. Perhaps she should sit down. She opened her fan. “When is the wedding?”

“They wanted to accomplish it before the end of the season, but since the marriage agreement was only made two days ago, I suspect they will have difficulty securing the arrangements.” He took a sip from his champagne flute. “Then again, you managed to prepare a wedding in two days’ time, didn’t you?”

She glanced at him, searching his expression for malice. Nothing but innocence, even admiration in his eyes, and she supposed he didn’t know that, in fact, her arrangements took less than an hour’s time.

Sometimes, she went back to that moment and wanted to rewrite it. To stop at the edge of her father’s study, as Foster met her eyes, his solemn countenance hinting at her ruined future, and run.

Why hadn’t she waited for her own match, someone to win her heart? Or perhaps she’d been so set at designing her own future, she couldn’t take her chances at a happy fate.

“Jinx, are you okay? You seem flushed.”

“I’m simply fatigued. I believe I will check with my butler on the evening’s final event.”

“There is more?”

“Of course.” She flashed him a smile.

The dancers were engaged in a German, social coordinator Harry Lehr calling the moves as Jinx moved through the ballroom, toward the dining room. She found Neville there.

Yes, the fireworks display would be lit precisely at midnight, below the cliffs. She wandered out to the front driveway, running her gloved hand over the chrome fender of a beautiful Benz.

“Hello, Jinx.”

The voice trickled through her, set something deep inside on fire. She drew in a breath to extinguish it and turned. “Bennett.”

She’d greeted him, of course, when he entered, breathtaking in the motoring suit she’d ordered for him, adding his own blue pinstriped shirt, a gold threaded ascot, and a matching derby. His blond hair curled out the back and his blue eyes pressed into hers, barely a smile on his lips before he’d taken Foster’s hand in greeting. The two men shared a warm moment and Jinx had to turn away with shame.

Bennett stepped up to her, his gloved hand rising as if to touch her then falling back. “I had hoped to talk to you tonight.”

“It’s a lovely evening, isn’t it?” She turned before he could see the wreckage his movement wrought on her resolve and wandered past a Peugeot. The moonlight cascaded over the shiny, gold-gilded lanterns, the leather seat. She plucked the petal of a white rose woven into the wreath.

Bennett stepped up behind her. “How are you?”

Wounded. Breaking. Wishing I’d had the courage to say yes to you
that day in Memorial Park.
“I’m well.” She fabricated a smile. “I hear congratulations are due?” She couldn’t look at him, not fully, but managed a glance.

He didn’t smile, didn’t even acknowledge her question. “I was so worried about you. But your mother said you didn’t want to see me. That you preferred me to leave. I know I should have come to see you, regardless.”

“No, she was right.” She wanted to weep. Her mother, not his own hurt pride, had sent him away. Had her mother’s lies about Esme taught her nothing? “I was fine. Thank you for finding me, for rescuing me.”

He looked at his shoes, properly shined. “I will always rescue you, Jinx, if you allow me.”

Oh, his words had lethal precision. She moved away from the Peugeot, walked out to the fountain, watching the spray weep into the night, dapple the surface of the platinum pond.

“I don’t need rescuing. Besides, I believe Elise would have something to say about that.”

“I don’t love Elise.”

She turned then. “You don’t love your fiancée?”

“It’s just a match.”

Before she could stop herself, her hand lifted to slap him. He recoiled and she jerked back. “Don’t you say that to me!”

“I’m fond of her, of course, but she is not you.”

She gritted her teeth, closed her hand into a fist. “Then don’t marry her. Don’t do to her what Foster did to me. He hates me.”

“I will honor Elise. I am not Foster. But I am not married, yet. And…my brother is a fool.”

She wanted to tell him, then, wanted to spill out the truth, to cling to him, just for a moment.

I’ll never betray you, Jinx.

“Perhaps I was the fool,” she said. “But what’s done is done.”

Bennett said nothing, examining her face before she finally turned away. “You’re right. What’s done is done. We’ll announce our engagement this week. I wanted to prepare you.”

“I hope you both live happily ever after.” She moved away from him.

He caught her arm. “Jinx, don’t do this. You spurned me.”

Her jaw tightened, and she yanked herself away, out of his grip. “Don’t touch me. Ever.” But her voice betrayed her and she pressed her hand to her mouth.

“Jinx—”

She turned and strode out into the darkness, away from the luminous eyes of Rosehaven.

“Jinx!”

Footsteps in the soft grass behind her made her speed up, made her nearly trip. Bennett caught her, swept his arm around her waist. “Please, don’t run from me.” He turned her to face him.

She couldn’t look at him. “I have to, Bennett. Don’t you see? I have to. You’re going to marry another, and I…I’m going to have a baby.”

The words tumbled out and lay there, brutal. He let her go as if she might be on fire, so fast that she nearly fell. But she should have expected the pain on his face. The look of betrayal.

And right then, she knew. He believed that she belonged to him. Believed her to be his.

And, oh, she wanted to be.

But she needed his hurt to churn up her courage, to push him out of her life before she did something truly foolish. She added a fine edge to her tone. “Yes, Bennett. I’m going to have a child. Foster’s child. So you see, you need to stay away from me. Marry Elise. Make her your wife and please, learn to love her.”

He stepped away from her, whitened, shaking his head. “You can’t be pregnant. Foster hasn’t even been here… .”

His mouth opened. Closed. And he gave her an awful, soul-searing look, one that shook her clear through. “It’s mine. The baby you’re carrying is my child.”

She didn’t expect his softly spoken words to make her want to weep, to throw herself at him, let him hold her. Bennett must never, ever know. If he finds out he will want to woo you, to make it right between you. You must be clever, Jinx, and don’t let fate betray you, or your sins will follow you forever.

Yes, Bennett.
“No. It’s Foster’s. Of course it’s Foster’s.”

He held her gaze until she nearly surrendered, until the truth pulsed at her lips. But she was a woman of society, of power.

She knew how to tell a lie.

Or, not.

His voice shook. “I don’t believe you.” He reached for her hand, but she jerked it away. Still, his voice had the power to hold her captive. “Come to me, Jinx. I will wait for you. I won’t go anywhere until you are with me.”

“Then you will wait in vain.”

A crackle, then a bang sounded in the sky behind her. She jerked as a spray of red fire exploded over the back of the house.

It was reflected in Bennett’s eyes. Then his voice cooled, crisp and quick. “Congratulations, Jinx. I wish you the best.”

He turned and left her there, in the cool, damp grass, as the fireworks destroyed the midnight sky.

* * * * *

Foster was in a good mood. Jinx stood at the edge of the terrace, bidding farewell to the last of her guests, the Wilsons, and heard his laughter twining out of the billiards room, through the ballroom, and out into the night.

It sounded so young, so unencumbered, it roused a long dormant memory. Ice skating on the pond in Central Park, his hand around her waist, laughing as he caught her in his arms, saving her from crashing onto the ice.