Journey's End (Gilded Promises) (21 page)

His grandmother’s booming laugh filled the air while Jackson tucked the dog under his arm as though it were a satchel. The tiny animal didn’t seem to mind but rather settled in. Obviously, the creature felt safe in the man’s arms.

Caroline knew the feeling. There had been a moment when they’d entered this room when she’d wanted to curl up in his arms and allow him to protect her, too.

He plans to marry your cousin.

Why—oh, why, why, why—couldn’t she remember that important piece of information?

Deliberately moving her shoulders so she would no longer be able to make eye contact with the elegant bundle of temptation, she turned her full attention to his grandmother. “Mrs. Montgomery, I’ve been wondering—”

“Now, girl, there will be none of that in this house.”

None of what? “I’m sorry?”

“You will call me Granny like everyone else does.”

But the woman wasn’t her grandmother. “You want me to call you Granny?”

“I insist upon it with everyone.”

“Everyone?” Caroline rather doubted that. Then again, at eighty-seven the woman was entitled to a few eccentricities.

With a twinkle of mischief lighting in her eyes, the older woman glanced at something—or rather someone—standing behind Caroline.
“Everyone.”

“Well, then, Granny, tell me—” Caroline stopped midsentence, remembering what Sally had said earlier about needing to be careful what she chose to discuss with
these people
. “Tell me about your husband. What was he like?”

A faraway, happy look came into Granny’s eyes. “He was very much like my grandson.”

Caroline turned to look at Jackson, who was conversing quietly with his mother now, his fingers stroking the head of the little dog still under his arm. There was obvious tension around the corners of his mouth.

I know what you have endured.

Perhaps he’d been speaking the truth yesterday. Perhaps he had carried his own set of burdens. Something inside her softened at the picture he made. “How is Jackson most like your husband?”

“The obvious answer is his looks. The boy inherited that full head of thick black hair from his grandfather. The broad shoulders and square jaw, too. Handsome men, the both of them. Sometimes when I look at that boy I find myself lost in pleasant memories from another time.”

There was a melancholy in Granny’s tone that was hard to miss. “How old was Jackson’s grandfather when he died?”

“He didn’t make it out of his fifties.”

Caroline couldn’t imagine what it would be like to love so well only to lose that love to premature death.

The matriarch sighed, as if caught up in a mixture of memories, some good, others sad. She sighed again, nuzzled the dog in her lap, then scowled at something behind Caroline. “That boy is far too patient, just like my Jasper. He offers grace when he should be doling out a bit of hard truth every now and again.”

Caroline couldn’t help herself. She glanced over at Jackson once again. He’d set the dog on the ground and was now leaning over his mother, listening intently. To an outsider, he looked enraptured. If Caroline didn’t know him as well as she had come to in the past few days, she might have missed the hint of annoyance deep in his eyes.

She looked away, shocked at the direction of her thoughts. She didn’t know Jackson Montgomery. They were veritable strangers. A shared kiss did not make them kindred spirits.

“He’s a good man.”

“Yes,” she agreed, not bothering to pretend she didn’t know who Granny meant. “He is a very good man.”

“He’ll make some young lady an exceptional husband one day.”

Caroline agreed. But since that particular young lady could very well be her cousin, Elizabeth, she kept her opinion to herself.

“That is”—Granny lowered her voice to a whisper—“once he lets go of his need to be the sole protector and restorer of our family’s good name.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“You are not acquainted with the story of our scandal?”

Caroline shook her head. When conducting her research, she’d only dug into Jackson’s involvement with her family. Now she wished she’d gone deeper. He’d read her mother’s letters and thus knew the particulars of her past. Wasn’t it only fair she knew something of his?

“The short version is that his father, my son, ran off with his wife’s sister.”

Caroline gasped.

Granny pulled one of the little dogs into her lap. “My son, Edward, was never a malicious man at heart, just extremely selfish. He lived for the next pleasure. He played hard, drank hard, and took whatever he wanted, never thinking of the consequences.”

Caroline had met men like that at the gaming halls in London. They had been the easiest to take money from and yet the hardest as well, because she always walked away feeling as though she’d taken advantage of them. But more than that, she’d been aware that those men probably had families who were the real victims of their carelessness and excess.

She understood Jackson’s mother better now.

“Edward’s charm usually smoothed over any feathers he might have ruffled along the way—until he did the unthinkable and fell in love with the wrong woman. Jackson was barely twenty-three years old at the time and was left to pick up the pieces his father left behind.”

I understand what it’s like to take on burdens that seem too heavy to bear at times.

Oh, Jackson. She’d been wrong to scoff at him.

“I offered to help, to pay whatever debts Edward left behind, but Jackson would hear none of it. He wouldn’t allow me to bear the shame, so he did. He took over the business and set out to restore the Montgomery good name.”

“By living his life above reproach.”

“I see you understand him.”

“Yes.” Oh, how she understood him. Jackson wasn’t boring, as Elizabeth had claimed. He was honorable and wise, a protector and a man of great integrity. He was a . . . a . . . hero.

“As you can imagine,” Granny said with a sad look in her eyes, “Jackson walks the straight road every day of his life. Ever since his father abandoned his mother, honor and duty have ruled the boy’s every decision. And that’s the worst tragedy of all.”

Was it?
“Why do you say that?”

“I married Jackson’s grandfather because the Montgomery men were known for their unconventional ways. They were the quintessential rebels. Godly, yes. Moral, without question. But until Jackson, they never allowed society to dictate their behavior.”

How . . . intriguing.

“Jackson comes from a long line of men who did what they believed was right, not what society told them was right.” She smiled fondly at her grandson. “The first Montgomery came to America before the Revolution. He was a smuggler during that war, as were his descendants during the Civil War. Turns out transporting contraband and supplies during wartime is not only a patriotic duty to a Montgomery, but a very lucrative business as well.”

Ah, that certainly answered the question about where the family money came from.

“Montgomery men have always lived life to the fullest. They play hard and work harder.”

Jackson joined them just as his grandmother finished having her say. “Not all Montgomery men play hard, Granny.” Frowning furiously, he added, “Some of us do know the meaning of honor and duty.”

“Yes, Jackson.” The older woman patted his arm. “Some of you understand a great deal more than you should on the subject.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Jackson made the decision to exit his grandmother’s house before dinner was served. Not merely because her comments about Montgomery men had left him unsettled—although that was reason enough—but also because he was fed up, stretched to his limit, and wasn’t in the mood for more verbal combat.

His mother had been in rare form all evening, complaining about the New York winters and lack of quality people left in town to attend the theater with her. He’d suggested she travel to Florida this year, whereupon she began a rant on the heat and insects and various other points of contention.

Shaking his head, he refocused on his grandmother. She was whispering softly to Caroline again, the topic of discussion the décor of the room. Their ease with one another was evident in their hushed tones and bent heads. He liked seeing the two get on so well, liked it a little too much.

He was supposed to tutor Caroline in business, not bring her into his family fold.

Their kiss. He blamed his lack of better judgment on that earth-shattering kiss.

Once his grandmother came up for air, he made his excuses for the evening.

The women fell silent, each looking a bit guilty, as if they’d been caught telling tales. What had he missed? What secrets was his grandmother revealing to Caroline? “I see I’ve interrupted, again.”

“Well, yes.” Caroline spoke in that straightforward manner he was beginning to appreciate. “But that doesn’t mean it’s an unwelcome intrusion.”

His grandmother let out a chortle. “Oh, well played, Caroline. Well played, indeed.”

Caroline gave her an affectionate look, then smiled up at Jackson. “Please, join us.”

“I’ve only come to make my excuses,” he said again. “I have another engagement this evening.”

Caroline lifted an eyebrow, the question in her gaze clear. She thought he planned to spend the evening in the company of her cousin. Which, considering the fact that he was supposed to have already begun courting Elizabeth, was where he should be going.

He couldn’t drum up the enthusiasm.

“My plans are with Luke.” He elaborated for his grandmother. “You remember my friend, Lucian Griffin—he was at the St. James dinner the other evening.”

“Ah, yes, a lovely young man.”

Jackson stifled a smile at his grandmother’s wording. Lovely young man. Luke would shudder at the fanciful description. “I’ll be sure to give him your regards.”

“Yes, yes.” She waved him on his way. “Go on, go on. As you can see, I’m in the middle of a very important discussion with your friend.”

“Indeed.” Caroline shot him a challenging stare. “Just before you made your way across the room, we were discussing the origin of your family’s fortune.”

He scowled. “That is not an appropriate topic of conversation among polite society.”

“Good thing we aren’t in polite society.” Caroline released a short laugh before focusing her attention on his grandmother once more. “If I’m not mistaken, Granny, you mentioned something about . . . smuggling?”

The woman was baiting him, very effectively, too. It took every ounce of his self-control to laugh off her words and address the matter as if every good New York family had such an infamous beginning. “The important part to remember is that my forebears played a patriotic role in two wars.”

“So I’ve been led to understand.”

Caroline reached out and placed her hand on Jackson’s sleeve. “It takes courage and strength of character to rebel against an unjust system of rules and regulations.”

She thought she was so clever. He knew precisely what she was about, openly challenging him to question the rules of society.

From the amusement in his grandmother’s eyes, Jackson wasn’t the only one to notice the ploy.

The floor shifted beneath his feet. Caroline St. James had gained another ally while Jackson had lost considerable ground.

Hoping to communicate his displeasure, he captured Caroline’s gaze for longer than was polite. For one insane moment he experienced a sudden urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her again. Right there in front of his mother and grandmother.

He resisted.

Barely.

Remembering himself, he broke eye contact and took his grandmother’s hand. “I will stop by tomorrow morning at our usual time.” Without looking directly at the other woman, he said, “Good night, Caroline.”

“Good night, Jackson.” She used the same intonation as he had, mocking him with her answering civility.

The tight rein he had on his control snapped. Unable to stop himself from giving in to his temper, he hauled her to her feet. “Walk me out,” he said. “I have something I wish to discuss with you in private.”

“Sounds ominous.”

“It will only take a moment.”

Without giving her a chance to argue, he pulled her out of the room.

She didn’t resist, not even a little, her wary expression communicating that she knew she’d pushed him too far.

Good. She should be wary of him.

Striding quickly through the house, he bypassed the foyer and went straight for a small alcove beneath the stairwell.

“Jackson, this isn’t necessary. You have made your point quite successfully.” Eyes wide with apprehension, she pressed herself against the back wall of the cubbyhole. “You must know I was only trying to antagonize you earlier.”

“You succeeded brilliantly.” He stepped into the shadows with her, braced his hands on either side of her. “Maybe it’s time you learned what happens when you push a man to his limit.”

“I . . . I don’t think this is a good idea. Maybe we should—”

He cut off the rest of her words by pressing his lips to hers.

As if she’d been expecting the move, she gripped his lapels and . . . pulled him closer.

Her unexpected reaction sent his control slipping all the more. He furiously tried to remember that he was a man of integrity, one who lived by the solid Christian precepts of behavior, a man who honored women, who protected them from . . .
this
.

He had to pull back, had to stop kissing Caroline right this very minute. He had to remember he wasn’t his father.

Fighting for the last remnants of his control, Jackson yanked his head back. He dragged air into his lungs, one hard gulp at a time.

Even with the shadows curtaining her face, he could tell his behavior had stunned Caroline. Though she didn’t appear entirely upset about this turn of events.

The woman made him crazy. She made him act completely out of character. And, God have mercy on his soul, he liked the sensation. Liked it enough to know he’d completely lost his mind.

What had he gotten himself into?

What had she gotten herself into?

That’s the thought that ran through Caroline’s mind as she stared up at Jackson. He was breathing as hard as she, gasping for air as though his life depended upon it. The wall sconces in the foyer illuminated him from behind, casting him in a halo of light. Ha. The man was no angel. And Caroline was starting to like that most about him.

From the start, she’d underestimated him. As had Elizabeth. For her cousin’s sake, Caroline must send Jackson on his way.

“Weren’t you leaving?”

“Caroline.” His gaze softened, his voice thickened, and he was making it very difficult for her to remember that he didn’t belong to her. “I’m not usually such a brute.”

“Only when you’re around me.”

He speared a hand through his hair, the gesture leaving the thick tufts slightly disheveled. It was a good look for him, one that matched the hint of wildness in his eyes. “Apparently, I am at my worst in your company.”

If that was his worst, she couldn’t imagine what he was like at his best.

She had no right to think such things.

“You should go,” she whispered.

“Yes.” His hand reached for her, as if of its own accord, then slid back to his side. “Will I see you at the VanDercreeks’ party later this week?”

“As I will be attending the small, private party as my grandfather’s personal guest, yes, I’ll be there.”

“Then I’ll say good-bye.” He placed his palm on her cheek. “Good-bye, Caroline.”

She leaned into his hand. “Good-bye, Jackson.”

He turned to go, then spun back around. “I know you do it to annoy me, but I like the way you say my name in that street urchin accent.”

Before she could shove him away for his impertinence, he withdrew from the alcove and walked to the exit without a backward glance.

With her fingertips pressed to her lips, she stared after his retreating form.

That man. Oh, that infuriating, honorable man who’d borne his own share of family burdens. Why did she have to know that about him? Why did she have to care?

Dropping her hand to her side, she slumped against the wall behind her. Trouble. Jackson was turning out to be trouble, and not in any way she could have conceived.

“Miss St. James.” Her grandmother’s butler peeked into the alcove. “Dinner is being served in the main dining room.”

She rose to her full height and snapped her shoulders back. “I must have lost track of time.”

“Yes, miss, that happens rather often in this house.”

That response made her smile. “Where, exactly, is the main dining room?”

“Down that hallway.” He indicated the corridor to her left. “Third door on the right.”

In silent defiance, or perhaps to prove she was still the same Caroline she’d always been, she looked the man straight in the eye and smiled brighter. “Thank you, Burke.”

“You are welcome, Miss St. James.” He returned her smile. “Might I say, miss, it’s a pleasure having you with us.”

She touched his arm in a moment of solidarity, then set off in the direction he’d indicated. She entered the room in time for Jackson’s mother’s next complaint.

“Really, Granny, cranberries? You chose to serve cranberries when you know I cannot tolerate them.”

Seemingly unmoved by the woman’s hard tone, Granny lifted an elegant shoulder. “Eat around them, Lucille.” She smiled up at Caroline. “Please, my dear, take your seat.”

Caroline settled in the chair opposite Jackson’s mother. Had Granny not shared the story of her husband’s desertion Caroline might have been less likely to put up with the woman’s incessant criticizing of every little detail of the meal. But now that she knew the source of Lucille Montgomery’s discontent, Caroline simply smiled and nodded.

“I trust Jackson got off all right?” Granny asked.

“He did.”

Not to be ignored, Lucille entered the conversation with a snarl. “What was so important that he couldn’t speak in front of his own mother and grandmother?”

“Yes, dear, what did the boy want with you?” Granny’s eyes sparkled in a way that said she knew exactly what
the boy
had wanted from Caroline.

She contemplated telling them both that he’d kissed her until her eyes had nearly rolled back in her head. But that would be pandering at best, petty at worst. Caroline was not in the business of hurting people intentionally, not even a confounding gentleman who couldn’t seem to remember he was supposed to be courting Caroline’s cousin.

“Jackson wanted to discuss our schedule next week. It seems I’m to spend part of my time inspecting the tenement houses with him.”

She didn’t know if that was true or not, but now that the idea had surfaced she wondered why she couldn’t make that happen. The tenement buildings were where she’d first met Jackson, where she’d witnessed the portion of his personality no one but she knew existed. Now that they knew each other’s secrets, it seemed fitting they should begin her business education on the Lower East Side.

Best of all, she would get another opportunity to see Mary.

“I wasn’t aware Jackson made a habit of inspecting the tenement houses.” His mother’s voice held decided disapproval.

Caroline pretended grave interest in smoothing her napkin across her lap. It was either that or say something she would regret. An arm reached around her and set a plate in front of her.

Tired of pretending she was someone she was not, she lifted her eyes to the server before he retreated. “Thank you,” she said.

His eyes widened at her boldness, and he quickly looked away, evidently embarrassed by the brief interchange.

Caroline performed a mental shrug. One step at a time. Looking up, she noted two pairs of eyes staring at her from opposite ends of the table. Both appeared shocked at her behavior.
Oh, for goodness’ sake.
She hadn’t done anything wrong or criminal or even immoral. She’d simply thanked a man for serving her a dish of soup.

She sighed. Did no one but Caroline think the rules of upper-class society were utterly ridiculous?

At least Granny seemed more amused than condemning. Sensing a supporter in the older woman, Caroline cleared her throat and brought up a completely different topic. “I saw you have a well-stocked library on the second floor.”

Granny set down her spoon. “It was my husband’s pride and joy. Jackson has kept the titles current.”

“Has he?” Caroline leaned forward, her food all but forgotten. “How wonderful.” Excitement made her voice shake. Not just a library filled with old books, but new ones, too. Oh, the joy.