Authors: Colleen Quinn
Tags: #Romance, #General, #Cape May (N.J.), #Historical, #Fiction
Because of ignorance and poverty, they took their frustrations out on each other. Katie didn’t think she could bear it, so intense were her emotions. Gradually Sean stopped crying, then lifted his small face to her.
“It didn’t matter, Mama. I hit back like Grandpa told me. I don’t like to hurt them. It makes me feel bad.”
“I know.” Katie rocked him in her arms. “They don’t like to hurt you either. Try to stay away from them.”
“I will.” Sean rose, yawning. “Can I sleep in your bed?”
Katie nodded, aware that he wanted some measure of security. She watched him smile, then go upstairs, the latest drama forgotten. With the resilience of a child, the promise of her companionship erased the damage of his injuries.
Almost. Katie sat in the darkness, letting the fire die. She had to do something to help her son.
Before he grew up just like his father.
“For the love of God, what is this? The place looks like a wake. Moira, take a look at this.”
Sean giggled in the bed as Katie awoke and heard her grandfather’s grumblings downstairs. The two of them shared a smile, then Katie bustled after Sean, wanting to know firsthand what all the commotion was about. “Mama…look!” Sean stared in amazement when they reached the bottom of the stairs and looked into the parlor.
The room was filled with flowers. In spite of the lateness of the season, summer roses, bunches of daisies, fresh chrysanthemums, and baby’s breath brightened the room like sunshine. In the center of them all was a wrapped plant, and as Katie approached she saw that it was a shamrock.
“‘Tis for you.” Patrick shoved a letter at Katie, then stared at the profusion of flowers in wonder. “Would take me all season just to garden these. Who are they from?”
“A friend.” Katie ignored his scowl and opened the note, hearing Moira’s pleased comments.
My dearest Kate,
the note began in an elegant scrawl that she instantly recognized as Christopher’s. I
want to apologize for yesterday. I didn’t explain things very clearly, and realized only later what you must have thought. I was trying so hard to be truthful that I omitted what must be the most important fact of all.Katie, when I said that I wanted you back, I meant as a wife, truly. I believe we have a future together. I don’t know if what I feel for you could be called love, but I will tell you this. You mean more to me than any woman I’ve ever known.
I want you, Kate, and I think we can be happy. Do you think that we have a chance?
Christopher
Katie grinned, hugging the note to her chest. He cared about her—he had to. She hadn’t missed the significance of the shamrock. He, too, thought of their wedding night, and what that simple promise meant. Patrick scowled when she whirled around the room, and Moira laughed, her voice sounding like a young girl’s.
“Damned foolishness,” Patrick said. “The world could be falling apart and that colleen wouldn’t care.”
“Let her be, Paddy,” Moira said, then turned to Kate. “When is your gentleman calling?”
Katie hesitated. How could she tell them the truth, that she was married to this man? Could she possibly explain her reasons for what she’d done, the sequence of events leading up to her impersonation of Fan that resulted in a wedding they would surely consider immoral?
Yet how could she not?
If there was one thing Katie had learned, it was that evading the truth only led to more trouble. So taking a deep breath, she quickly spoke.
“He isn’t. I’m going to him. He is my husband.”
Moira looked stunned, while Patrick appeared less surprised. Katie explained the details of her marriage. When she had finished, Patrick frowned, his brows drawn together, looking thunderous.
“Are you saying that you love this man? That you want to go back to him?”
“I’m not certain what I feel,” Katie said honestly. “But I think he does care for me.”
“Many successful marriages have had stranger beginnings than this,” Moira said hopefully. When Patrick grunted, she continued defensively: “Well, it’s true. Remember Jimmy Reilly and Winifred Blake? Their marriage was a silver-glove affair. And then there was—”
“What about the boy?” Patrick interrupted Moira, his voice stern.
“Sean is part of the reason that all this happened,” Katie responded truthfully. “You know how much I love him. I want something better for him than what I can provide.” Her eyes squeezed shut as she thought of those children teasing him. Yes, somehow she would find a way to give him a better life.
“So you’ve told this society man about him? About your son?”
“Not yet.” At Patrick’s disapproving frown, Katie hastened to explain. “At first he thought I was Fan Pemberton. I couldn’t tell him then. By the time he learned the truth, there was no point. I thought it was over and I left.”
“To come here.”
Katie nodded. “I will tell him now. He has a right to know.”
“Good.” Patrick seemed relieved, but he came closer to her and lifted her chin. His hand was like sandpaper, yet it was reassuring. “I just want to ask you one more thing before you go to him. I know you, Katie, and I’ve seen you hurt before. Does this man make you happy?”
Katie nodded slowly. That much was true. Christopher did make her happy, and always made her laugh. And the one night they had spent together as husband and wife…Katie had never felt so close to another human being as she did then. Not even with John Sweeney had she experienced that union, a bonding of spirit as well as flesh.
“Yes,” she answered with conviction. “He makes me happy.”
“Then go to him. Remember, Katie, we have but one chance at this life. You have to take what happiness is offered and don’t question it. Especially you. You’ve had enough hardship. Take it, Katie. And may God be with you.”
The cabdriver knew exactly where the Scotts lived. Katie sank back against the seat in awe as the carriage pulled up in front of the Main Line mansion. Climbing out, she paid the man, then stood in the street, shivering in the wind.
It was every bit as grand as the Eldridges’ house. Katie stared at the clean lines of the Federalist mansion, the elegantly curved windows, the dull red brick, the ivy creeping on the south side. An enormous green door with a brass knocker stood before her, and she lifted the metal with some trepidation.
The door opened instantly and Katie gaped in surprise as Christopher stood on the other side, still wrapping a robe around him. He had evidently just awakened. His hair was tousled from sleep, and his chin bore the stubble of a beard. Still, he was so handsome and Katie wondered how it was possible for someone to be born with so much.
“Kate.” He seemed surprised and very pleased. “Come in. I suppose you received my message?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Katie stood shyly inside the grand house, then glanced around and was stunned to see that it was virtually empty. Christopher didn’t seem to notice that there were no furnishings, no curtains, no gaslights or servants. Instead he led her back to the kitchen, talking all the while, and proceeded to light the stove for his morning tea.
“…so glad you came. I had to go back to the church to find you. It was only when I proved to those nuns that we were married that they would help me. I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t think—”
“Christopher,” Katie said softly, unable to take her eyes from the crates. “You don’t have any tables.”
“Oh, that.” He waved a dismissing hand. “We sold them. Aunt Eunice and I needed money to live on during the last few months.”
“But everything? Even your rugs…” She stared down at the bare wood floor. There wasn’t even a little throw rug to keep the chill away.
“We had to. We were desperate.” He said this in a joking manner, and she stared at him in wonder. “Katie, I meant what I said in that note. I really do want you back.”
She nodded, then sank down on a crate to think. Everything she had wanted to say to him went out of her head. She had wanted to talk to him about Sean, to explain, but confronted with this…Katie shuddered. Somehow she hadn’t envisioned things as being this bad. At the shore, Christopher and his aunt had been able to maintain a facade of wealth. Here, their situation appeared desperate.
“What happens when you have guests?” Katie asked. “Don’t they wonder?”
“We haven’t entertained since we’ve been back.” He looked at her in confusion. “Katie, none of this matters. If we get back together, we get the money to replace these things. If that’s what you want to do.”
Her mind was in a whirl. Poverty and financial problems were nothing new to her; they apparently were to him. If she should go along with this plan and the Scotts didn’t change their style of living, they would soon be more broke than now. They needed much more than the dowry under these circumstances. Ella’s offer, generous as it was, would only give them a start.
“Christopher, I’ve given the matter a lot of thought. I do think you’re right, that we make a good team. And together we could be successful.”
He grinned, obviously pleased. “I think so, too. Katie, I really do care about you—”
She held up her hand and looked at him pityingly. He didn’t understand. Somehow she had to make him. “Christopher, I will come back, but there are some conditions. I don’t know if you’ve really thought this through, but we will have to make some major changes. Ella’s money is only temporary; we have to find a way to reinstate your fortune. Otherwise we will go through the fund in no time at all. Just to refurnish this house, hire servants…the cost will be unbelievable.”
Christopher nodded, then sat beside her at the table. “I know, but we’ll be able to do something. Once we’re reestablished.”
“We can’t wait that long.” Katie sighed, aware that her knowledge would now be extremely useful. “Trust me, I know what I’m talking about, and I know how to survive. I will help you. I’ll live with you as your wife, I’ll cook and clean and keep house for you. But you’ve got to listen to me about this.”
Christopher nodded. “Sure. Whatever you think.”
“Good.” Taking a deep breath, Katie accepted his hand and looked him right in the eye. “Christopher, starting today, we’ve got to find another source of income.”
“Like what?”
“Jobs.” She smiled at his shocked expression. “You and I must become gainfully employed.”
C
hristopher stared at her in stunned silence, then broke into a light laughter.
“No, no, you don’t understand.” He spoke quietly, as if explaining the most rudimentary facts to a child. “We are society people. We don’t work.”
“You do now.” Katie smiled, undaunted. “You might still be society, but you aren’t rich. And without a plan, that will soon be evident to everyone. We have to get through the next year, Christopher. After that, if we’re still together, we get the money.”
Eunice joined them, quietly taking a seat and hearing the end of the conversation. Pouring herself some tea, she frowned thoughtfully, then turned to her nephew.
“I’m afraid she’s right. Christopher, I’ve been thinking about the same thing. Ella’s money will only last a few months. We need a more permanent solution.”
The condescending smile died on Christopher’s face as he realized the truth in her words. Worse, he couldn’t find a single flaw in their reasoning.
“So what are you two saying?” His eyes lifted to Katie’s and he frowned. “You want me to dig ditches or something? If I take a job, people will know I’m poor. We might as well give up now.”
“Not necessarily.” Katie procured a sheet of paper from the top of a crate and reached for a pencil. Putting his name on top, she gazed at him contemplatively. “Now what are you good at? Gambling, billiards, parlor games. You are a great host, know how to make people comfortable. You are conservative in appearance and have many contacts in the business world.”
“Money.” Christopher laughed at the irony. “I am good with money. Charles used to say it was the gambler’s instinct, but I can usually pick winning investments. If I could get my hands on some damned capital…”
“Use someone else’s,” Katie said, ignoring his look of confusion. “That’s perfect! Don’t you see? You could be one of those men in banks, who make money for other people!”
“An investment banker.” Eunice nodded thoughtfully. “You could manage trusts and estates, like the Wellingtons or the Chesters.”
“And produce an income for yourself.” Flushed with excitement, Katie put down her pencil and grinned.
Eunice’s brow wrinkled thoughtfully. “You know, that could work. Charles Pepper’s family owns one of the largest banks in the city. I’m sure he’d help you get started. And it would look natural. Lots of your contemporaries do this kind of work as a hobby. They really don’t need the money, but they want to carve their own niche. Stop scowling, dear,” Eunice said, seeing his expression. “So if you were to take this kind of position, it wouldn’t look like you’re destitute.”
Katie nodded enthusiastically, ignoring Christopher’s thunderous expression. “Now let’s do the same for me.” She turned over the paper.