This was good! she thought. This was right! This was the two of them, sharing what they were born to share. Her pulses quickened and she recognized immediately the ache deep within her.
When Jacob drew away, he stared into her eyes for several moments before he said, “Well, my dear; are you ready to tell me about it?”
Jacob’s change of mood shocked Pandora back to reality. She knew she could postpone her full confession no longer. Somehow, without bringing Ward Gabriel’s name into the discussion, she had to tell him all and make him understand. She took a deep breath and began.
“You’re right, Jacob, I didn’t tell you everything that upset me the other night. I did see visions—deeply disturbing visions—but they had nothing to do with the two of us or our marriage. What I saw later concerned two people I don’t even know. They seemed to go through some sort of marriage ceremony on a beach. Later, I witnessed their wedding night. I saw every intimate moment of it.” She could not bring herself to confess to him that she had actually physically experienced the whole thing as well.
Jacob was staring at her as if he wanted to say something. She paused to allow him to speak, but he held his stunned silence.
“That wasn’t the first time that evening that my mind traveled back to eavesdrop on strangers’ lives. Just before I came down to the party, Angelica and I were in my room. While we were talking, I grew dizzy. Angelica and all our surroundings disappeared. I said something to her. An instant later, I was someone else, repeating the same words to a woman named Isabel. The woman I saw had dark hair and she held a baby in her arms and she was afraid of Isabel. Afraid and jealous of her. What’s happening to me, Jacob? Am I going insane?”
Pandora covered her face with her hands and began to cry.
Jacob put his arms around her, trying to comfort her. “Hush now, my dear. It’s not so terrible. Let’s try to figure it out together. Do you know the woman’s name—the woman with the baby?”
Pandora shook her head. “No. But she was the same woman I saw later—with the man on their wedding night.”
“Do you have any idea who he might be? Do you know anything about either of them or this Isabel?”
This was the question Pandora dreaded most of all. How could she tell Jacob her feelings about these strangers from the past? He would never understand; she didn’t understand herself. He would think she had lost her mind.
“No,” Pandora answered slowly, “I don’t know who the man was. I do know that he and the woman loved each other very much. So much that I could feel it like a tangible force. I became a part of it, or it a part of me.” She shook her head. “Oh, Jacob, it’s so difficult to explain! When he made love to her, it seemed as if I became that woman. I felt what she was feeling. I knew what she was thinking. Lately, I feel like I’m two different people. I’m so afraid!”
“Please, Pandora, don’t be frightened. I wish I could help you. Maybe Dr. Pinel will be able to unravel the mystery.” He brightened. “Do you suppose this could all be from some book you read? Or some story you heard as a child? Nettie is always telling you wild tales about Laffite and his pirates. Perhaps she’s put the seed for all these imaginings in your head.”
Pandora stared at Jacob as if he were the one losing his mind. “You think this phantom lover might be Jean Laffite? Oh, come now, Jacob!”
“I know it sounds farfetched,” he admitted. “I suppose I’m grasping at straws, but it would explain everything.”
“I’d like to know how.”
“Don’t you see? Ever since you came to Galveston as a little girl you’ve been fascinated with the Laffite legends. You used to haunt the grove, looking for his treasure. The site of Maison Rouge is still one of your favorite places. You’ve listened to Crazy Nettie’s tales of pirates and brigands and now you’ve made up your own legends about the man. Maybe your mind is just playing everything back. Like photographs in the mind, taken with one of those newfangled cameras. I don’t think you are actually seeing scenes from the past. I’m convinced it’s your vivid imagination at work, Pandora. I’d be willing to wager that Dr. Pinel will tell you the same thing.”
Pandora gazed at Jacob and smiled, trying to make him believe that he had comforted her. He was a dear man. He tried so hard. And she wanted to believe him. Oh, how she wanted to! But Jacob was wrong this time and she knew it.
Chapter Four
The following days went by at whirlwind speed as Pandora made last-minute preparations for her trip to Europe. Accompanied only by her maid, Cassie, she would travel from Galveston to New York on board the Morgan Line’s new steam vessel, El Valle. She still maintained her parents’ suite at the Fifth Avenue Hotel at the junction of Twenty-third Street, Broadway, and Fifth Avenue at Madison Square. She and Cassie would stay there for a few days before leaving on the SS France to cross the Atlantic to Le Havre. In less than a month, she would be in Paris, the city of lovers and romance. She tried not to think about her visit with Dr. Pinel, concentrating instead on the thought of renewing her art classes.
This morning, Pandora had too much on her mind to spend long considering the journey ahead. In the course of packing her mistress’s fourteen trunks, Cassie discovered that a number of items were missing. Where they had disappeared to, only heaven knew.
A thorough search of Pandora’s room finally turned up a cozy nest far back under the armoire, elegantly feathered with lace gloves, embroidered hankies, and shredded silk stockings. Pandora’s spoiled kittens protested with hisses and growls as Cassie—down on all fours—dragged the ruined articles into the light.
“Miss Pan,” the outraged maid huffed, shooing and swatting at the furry little pests, “I don’t know what you’re going to do with these naughty cats. Just look at this tangle they made! They every one needs a good paddling!”
Pandora swept around the room, giving her precious pets a ride on the train of her dressing gown. “Don’t fuss so, Cassie! They meant no harm. I’ll simply drive down to the Emporium and buy what I need. The gloves and stockings were getting too tight anyway.” She knelt down and fondled her purring babies. “Oh, I wish I could take all six of you with me!”
“You do that and I’m staying right here in Galveston!” Cassie declared, her hands on her hips and her eyes glaring at the tiny, blue-eyed felons as they tumbled and frolicked over Pandora’s skirts, snagging the peacock-colored silk with their claws.
Pandora pooh-poohed Cassie’s threat. Then, placing the kittens in their wicker basket, she dressed and headed straight away to Sherwood’s Emporium on the Strand to replace the vandalized articles.
The morning was one of those bright, balmy days in late September that set Galvestonians in mind of spring rather than fall. As Pandora—dressed in apple-green the exact shade of her eyes this morning—drove her matched team of white horses along the Strand, heads turned and gentlemen tipped their derbies in salute.
Pandora nodded and smiled, feeling a special elation as her departure drew nearer. She would miss Jacob while she was away. But, once she was gone, every day that passed would bring her nearer to her return and her wedding. She had high hopes that Dr. Phillipe Pinel would be able to cure her of her troubling second sight. When next she drove her fancy surrey down Galveston’s palm-lined streets, she would be as normal as anyone else.
Galveston’s business district—often called “The Wall Street of the West”—bustled with commerce that morning. Servants scurried from shop to shop, baskets balanced on their heads, as they made the daily purchases for their various households. Businessmen in frock coats moved determinedly along the raised sidewalks or stood in clusters outside the ironwork facades of the buildings, discussing cotton prices, shipping rates, and the new bridge being built to the mainland, which would be the longest wooden structure of its kind in the world.
Pandora halted her team before the glassed-in front of the Emporium. She glanced toward the windows of the three-story building, noting that her uncle’s dis
plays ran from A to Z—Austrian blown glass to zinc washtubs. The Sherwood family’s “fancy grocery” had grown over the years until it rivaled some of the finest galeries in Paris. Starting out small twenty years ago, Horace Sherwood had expanded his business to include additional mercantile stores in Houston, Dallas, and New Orleans. Now he was a wealthy man—almost as rich as Pandora’s father had been.
Gathering her skirts about her, she stepped down from her carriage and, mounting the step to the sidewalk, hurried into the store.
“Ah, Pandora, you’re out bright and early this morning,” her uncle said, greeting her.
“I need a few things, Uncle Horace. Lace gloves, stockings, and handkerchiefs.”
“Well, help yourself, my girl. You know where everything is.”
The store was busy, the customers adding their scents of orange water and bay rum to the pervasive smells of tobacco, spices, and hemp that always reminded Pandora of her uncle’s store. She made her way down the center aisle, past pickle barrels, displays of imported chinaware, buggy whips, basins, and beehives. She had to wait her turn at the glove counter. While she was sorting through the stacks, trying to find the right shade of blue, someone walked up behind her. Another customer, Pandora assumed, not bothering to look.
When a hand touched her arm, she turned to find herself staring up into the storm-gray eyes of Ward Gabriel.
“Good morning, Pandora. I’m glad you stopped in. I was afraid I wouldn’t get to see you again before you left for Paris.”
Pandora took a deep breath, trying to convince herself that she felt perfectly calm and collected. She must not let Ward think anything to the contrary. She realized she had to come to terms right now with the fact that there was no way she could avoid the man. After all, he was a part of her uncle’s business. If she wanted to continue shopping at the Emporium, she would have to continue seeing Ward Gabriel.
Regaining some measure of composure, she answered, “I leave the day after tomorrow, Mr. Gabriel.”
One dark brow arched upward toward his unruly hairline. “The other night it was Ward.”
Pandora felt a blush creeping into her cheeks. Why did this man always bring that reaction? She’d never blushed before in her life until the past few days. He was no gentleman, that she was sure of! How dare he mention the other night, right here in her uncle’s store where anyone might overhear his words?
“Very well, Ward,” she said with deadly quiet. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have several purchases to make.”
She turned from him abruptly, but again he touched her arm, this time gripping her elbow with some force. In order not to create a scene, she faced him again.
“Is there something you wanted?” she asked curtly.
His answer was a slow, crooked smile that infuriated her totally.
“Ward, please,” she whispered. “People are staring!”
He released her arm, but made no move to leave her. “Your uncle tells me you’ll be in New York for a few days before you leave for France.”
She nodded.
“That’s quite a coincidence. You see, I’ll be in the city, too. At exactly the same time.”
“How nice for you,” she said in a cool, sarcastic tone.
“On the contrary, Pandora. How nice for you! Your uncle thinks it would be a fine idea for the two of us to get together—go to the theater or out to dinner, perhaps. He’s uncomfortable with the thought of your being in New York all alone, and he considers me quite the proper escort.”
Pandora could hardly believe her ears. The idea of Ward Gabriel squiring her about the city was outrageous. He had his nerve even suggesting such a thing. She was about to dismiss him totally, sending him on his way in less than friendly terms, when Horace Sherwood came up to them.
“Oh, Ward, I’m so glad you’ve had a chance to speak with Pandora.” The heavy-set merchant beamed at his niece. “Well, what do you think, my dear?”
“If you mean about New York, I think that I have my own plans, Uncle Horace. I’m sure in the eyes of most young women Mr. Gabriel would be the ideal escort, but…”
Sherwood cut her off. “That’s right, my dear. And I’ll feel much better about your being in New York if I know Ward is keeping an eye on you. A big city is no place for an unescorted young lady, in my opinion. Jacob heartily agrees.”
“What?” Pandora gasped. Jacob had been her way out of this. She had planned to tell her uncle and Ward that her fiancé was opposed to her being escorted by anyone but himself. Since he could not go to New York with her, she would simply make her way alone, as she always had before.
“I’m sure your fiancé was quite relieved, Pandora,” Ward added. “I would be, in his place.”
Ward was smiling that maddening smile again. Lord, how she hated it! She had to admit to herself that it was neither Ward Gabriel nor his smile that she hated, but how he made her feel when he looked at her that way. All that had happened the night at his cottage—real or imagined—came flooding back to haunt her.
“Then it’s all settled,” Horace Sherwood said, stroking his gray mutton-chop whiskers. “And a load off my mind, I can tell you!”
Pandora started to object, but decided to hold her peace. Let Ward Gabriel assume that she would be at his beck and call in New York. He would find out otherwise once he arrived. Nowhere was it written that she had to obey her uncle’s orders or even her fiancé’s for that matter. Away from Galveston, she would do exactly as she pleased.
“I’ll call at your hotel as soon as I arrive, Pandora. I have some business to attend to for your uncle which should take no more than a day at the most.”
Pandora smiled with feigned politeness. “Oh, please, Ward, take all the time you need.”
With a swish of green skirt, Pandora turned and hurried out. The other things she needed, she could buy in New York. She planned to have plenty of time for shopping… alone!
A slow, easy smile curved Ward’s lips as he watched Pandora sashay out of the store, her bright hair like a blazing halo in the morning sun.
So, he thought, you plan to avoid me, eh, Pandora? He chuckled softly, already figuring how he could break down the wall formed between them the night of her party. She was a tricky one, all right! Well, he had a few tricks up his sleeve too. By the time he finished, she would be putty in his hands.
He frowned suddenly. Pandora’s spirit was what he had always admired most about her. He had no desire to break it. Even if she was engaged to be married, he found her desirable just the same. Could the fact that her betrothal to Jacob Saenger put her beyond his reach make him want her more? Very possibly. He knew himself for the rascal he was. He had no plans to disrupt Pandora’s wedding. Still, he did want to be with her in New York. He hoped they could become friends—close friends. He had often wondered what it would be like to have such a spirited young wife. If they could be real friends, he would settle for that. He would have to. New York would give him the chance he needed to cement their relationship.
There was something very odd about the way Ward felt toward Pandora Sherwood. He didn’t understand it. His feelings toward her were almost protective. He knew that he would do anything for her; he would even lay his life on the line, if it ever came to that. But why? He shook his head. There was no answer to the question. Pandora was special, Pandora was troubled, and, as much as he wanted her, Pandora belonged to another man. Ward was obsessed with her.
Outside the Emporium, there was a regular melee in the middle of the street. Pandora stood on tiptoe and craned her neck to see over the heads of the crowd. All she could make out was a tussle going on and a blur of bright colors.
She heard a familiar voice. “I didn’t do it, Mr. Sheriff. How come they always accusing this poor old woman of takin’ stuff? Don’t throw me in the jail. Please, Mr. Sheriff!”
Pandora, recognizing the woman’s voice, shouldered her way through the crowd.
“Come along, Crazy Nettie!�
�� Pandora saw the sheriff trying to haul the woman away. Nettie clung desperately to a lamp post, digging her bare toes into the shells and sand of the street.
“Sheriff,” Pandora called. “What seems to be the problem?”
The florid-faced officer turned to her and rolled his eyes. “The usual, Miss Sherwood. Caught her red-handed. Old Nettie helped herself to Mr. Appleton’s wallet, but he managed to grab her and I happened to be passing by. We’ve got the goods on her this time.”
The sheriff’s attention was on Pandora. The crowd was staring at the sheriff as he spoke; only Pandora saw what Nettie did next. Giving her body a brief, hard shake, the town’s antiquated eccentric managed to dislodge the wallet from somewhere inside her clothing. It fell to her feet and she quickly kicked it some distance away.
Nettie flung her arms wide and wailed, “Search me! Go on, I dare you! I got nothing to hide. I’m innocent as a newborn babe, Mr. Sheriff.” Her words were followed by her familiar wild cackle, a sound that announced her presence and contributed to her neighbors’ belief that she was, indeed, deranged.
Nettie stood, defiantly daring the sheriff to search her. A gentleman in the crowd called out, “Look here. Is this the article in dispute?” He held the leather wallet on high.
“Why, that’s mine!” a red-faced Mr. Appleton declared. “Where did you find it, sir? Oh, my apologies, Sheriff. I must have dropped it in my haste.”
The crowd began to disperse, grumbling their disappointment that no arrest was necessary.
Pandora hurried over to Nettie, shaking her head, but smiling in spite of herself at the cunning old woman’s outlandish garb. Underneath the threadbare uniform coat of a Confederate officer, she was wearing a tattered ballgown of scarlet lace. Her feet were bare; her hands and arms were covered with cheap rings and bracelets. She wore a wide-brimmed straw hat, decorated with flowers, a stuffed bird, seashells, and bits of bright ribbon. Her gray hair straggled down past her knees in ugly tangles. Nettie smiled at Pandora and the old woman’s eyes lit up like two star sapphires and her face took on a girlish look that belied her advanced age.
Forever, For Love Page 7
