She colored guiltily. What had she done to merit his faith? Listen to and consider another man's adulterous proposal? She hung her head as the disgusting truth of her own actions overcame her. Drew had corrupted her. Hadn't he always?
The words of Con's simple note sang through her head and bubbled onto her lips. "I'm sorry." There was nothing else to say. Her softly spoken words danced through the still air, but to her disappointment did not wake Con.
Life seldom gave one a fair set of circumstances. Con might be all the terrible things she accused him of, but he was not afraid to take blame and responsibility.
She spun on her heel and ran down the hall to her room through a haze of tears. She closed her door and leaned her forehead against it, tears streaming down her face in earnest. Thoughts of a dozen thoughtful and romantic things Con had done came to her. The way he charged through the fire to rescue her, the look of concern on his face. His expression when she first proposed to him. The hurt when she said it was a matter of business only. Why hadn't she given them any credibility before?
Her life came into clarity before her. The picture of Con and Olive on the parlor sofa flooded her mind again. Con, his face firm and handsome even in sleep. The spray of freckles across his forearm as it fell over the sofa edge. She wanted that same man in her bed sleeping beside her. She would accept no substitute.
She pushed aside insecure thoughts of losing the business. The business was only a thing, nothing compared to losing Con. Somehow, together, things would work out.
She would send Drew away. And while Con was gone she would find a way to salvage the businesses. A small nasty thought niggled at her—what if she couldn't?
"The time for negative thinking is past," she said softly to herself. "What if I can?"
She turned from the door toward her bed and gasped. Her coverlet and pillows were covered with rose petals. "Oh, Con!" Tears spilled down her cheeks. She didn't bother to wipe them away as she shimmied out of her clothes and curled up on the bed in the midst of the petals, exhausted by the heavy emotions of the last hour. Tomorrow, she would make everything right. Her eyes felt heavy, but her was heart light as she drifted into a perfumed sleep.
Morning dawned too clearly, forcing Con to admit the truth. Fayth didn't love him. Never had, never would. Stiff from a night on the sofa, he rolled his shoulders and shoved clothes into his duffel. He'd made every conciliatory gesture he could think of, and she had ignored every one. This morning he found her door closed. He'd waited up for her and slept on the sofa intentionally, hoping she would see the rose petals and come to him. But she hadn't. It was time to concede defeat. He had been patient, but every man had his limit. If she wanted her freedom, she could have it.
Fayth woke to the sound of the Captain shuffling in the kitchen. He was leaving? He couldn't. Her heart pounded out of control. She had to catch him. By the time she pulled on a robe and raced to the kitchen, he was headed toward the door, his duffel in hand.
"Safe journey." Why couldn't she say what she felt?
He turned, as calm and composed as ever. But something about his stance and lack of expression colored her with a wash of fear. His eyes were blank, a hazel void. Oh, please, let him feel something!
"Godspeed." Where was her tongue?
He nodded and turned back toward the door. Why didn't he say something?
"Wait!" She rushed to his side and took his arm. "I'm sorry."
He grunted an unintelligible reply, started to say something else and stopped himself. "So am I."
She dropped his arm. His words were not a mate of her own, a request for forgiveness. They were an admission of defeat. But how could that be? Where was the romantic who had sprinkled her bed with flower petals? Did a romantic ever lose hope? Stunned, she dropped her hand from his arm.
He left without uttering another word.
Confused, she stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking at the floor until she heard the screen door bang shut. She hurried to the window in time to watch him walk down the drive with his shoulders set, back straight.
Fayth's heart beat double time as she sank into a chair by the table. With trembling fingers, she picked a fallen petal from where it rested in the shadow of the vase on the table. Tears filled her eyes. She had lost him. No. She couldn't allow herself to think such a thought. She would not lose him. She sniffed, and brushed a tear from her cheek, letting her thoughts wander. Adversity strengthened her will to succeed. What she must do to keep him ticked through her mind like a finely honed battle strategy.
She had to get their business life in order so they could concentrate on their marriage. She would start by repaying Lou, sewing for her if she had to. She grimaced. There was no other way. She must earn the faith Con had in her. Prove him right—that the loan had done her no damage. Besides, how could they ever overcome the hurt of last night's argument with a source of contention between them? The Captain, however misguided, had meant to help her. She saw the love in the act now as clearly as the rose petals in front of her. Fallen love, fallen hope. She picked another petal up. Tears stood in her eyes as her thoughts continued.
"And I must send Drew away." The room concurred, echoing her words back to her. Braver, more confident, she raised her arm and dropped a petal, watching it flutter as it fell. There was a time to sever with the past. The time for her was now. Drew would never be other than a thorn in her life, always pricking, never blooming.
The petal landed on the table. She smiled softly, tears of hope brimming in her eyes. It was impossible to undo the acts of the past, just like it was impossible to reconstruct a flower using wounded petals. But like the petals on her pillow, maybe it was possible for her to take her hurtful actions of the past, and use them, if only by way of contrast, to build a new future, and prove a mature love.
An overturned picture frame lying face down at the far end of the table caught her attention. She frowned as she slowly reached for it. When she turned it over, Drew's face met hers. The frame trembled in her hand before sliding from her fingers onto the table with a crash.
Her picture of Drew, the one she'd thought she'd lost on Con's ship!
She leaned forward, steadying herself against the table. Con had had it all this time. He knew! He'd known who Drew was all along. That explained his jealousy, but what did he mean now? Was he giving her a choice? Him or Drew?
She should have been despondent, but oddly, a tiny flame of hope flickered inside her. Just last night he had said he loved her. Maybe he still did. She could hope. She would hope. She loved him.
The hall clock struck the half hour. She would start redeeming herself by paying off Lou. A client was meeting Fayth at the shop at nine. But as soon as Fayth could get away, she would be off to call on the madam.
Chapter 17
Con caught Lou alone in the dining room just as she finished her breakfast. He pulled up a chair beside her and pushed an envelope toward her.
"What's this?"
"Payment in full for my wife's debt to you."
Lou cocked an elegantly sculpted eyebrow.
"It's all there."
"I don't doubt that, but why?"
He laughed, hoping he didn't sound as downcast as he felt. His life was in shambles. He'd lost Fayth. Because of Drew, the business, or his own dishonesty, he couldn't say.
Con had spent the evening praying for Fayth's return, futilely waiting for her. He should have gone to the Aurnia, but somehow he'd kept thinking she'd come back, make up. He wrote her an apology, rearranged the flowers, and in a stupid romantic gesture, covered her pillow with petals. Still, she didn't come. Hope turned to a need for normalcy. So he tried mending his pants, reading the newspaper, common things. Nothing helped. When strained normalcy turned to desperation he took the picture of Drew and turned it over on the table. Childish, he knew, but even this morning he couldn't force himself to remove it.
Finally, exhausted, Con cuddled with Olive on the sofa, taking comfort from her unfailing affection
, and mulled over his life. The business was failing. Con needed cash, more than he'd be able to come up with in time to save it. He had no choice now but to sell it and salvage what he could.
Only his honor remained. In that late hour, with Olive purring on his chest, he'd made up his mind to salvage Fayth's business and leave her to her life. If she wanted, he'd annul the marriage and sail away. Then he fell asleep, still hoping she'd come to him.
This morning he'd been relieved to see that she had come home, eventually.
“I'm sorry”, she'd said, and stiffly wished him a safe journey.
Sorry for what, their life together?
This morning, for the first time in Con's life, he took money for personal use from O'Neill Shipping. But what did it matter now? He would sell the business, leave Fayth alone to live her life as she wanted.
"To appease my wife. Fayth found out about the loan," he said to Lou.
"And she was mad as a hellcat, I don't doubt. You're making amends?"
"Something like that."
"She'll be relieved, I'm sure. She's considered me in the same light as the devil since Coral's come back. Though I had nothing to do with that. If only she knew." Lou swept the envelope up. "She knows she's free of obligation to me?"
"I'll let her know when I get back. For now, it sets my mind at ease. I know I've done the right thing by her. When the time comes it might soften the blow."
"What are you talking about, Con O'Neill? You're not going to take that offer you told me about? You'd be a fool to ignore my advice. And I tell you myself, as someone who has lived both places, Seattle is much the superior city to San Francisco."
He shook his head. "Many would agree with you. But I hear the open waters calling. Been landlocked too long." He stood to leave. "Appreciate it if you would keep what I've told you quiet until everything's official."
Lou smiled graciously. "Con, I am discretion itself. But I do hope you'll reconsider."
Con was gone, but life still went on. Fayth had business with Lou. At the parlor house, Maddie let Fayth in, and showed her to Lou's office. The evening crowd was already filing in.
"Miss Gramm's with the latest professor." Maddie wrinkled her nose. "She's reprimanding him. His skills at the piano aren't up to her standards, and he's been sniffing around a little too close to the ladies. Men!"
"You said it."
Maddie looked momentarily taken aback, but broke into a chuckle ready enough. "Seems we all got our problems with them, one way or another. Miss Gramm will be in as soon as she's finished."
"Thanks, Maddie." Fayth seated herself in the red velvet chair opposite Lou's desk, and settled in to wait. Lou bustled in a scant five minutes later. "Hello, Lou. You've put the latest professor in his place so quickly?"
Lou waved a dismissive hand in front of her. "Maddie talks too much. Unfortunately, I'm stuck with him for another week. The next man on the circuit won't be here until Friday."
"Have you considered hiring one of the women from the Christian Committee? I hear many play nicely."
Lou's throaty laugh filled the room. "What a dry wit you are! Trying to shut me down, Fayth? How very devious. What a picture that would be—pious ladies playing church hymns and preaching about the dire consequences of immorality and lust. Wouldn't that bring in the customers! And my girls—what would I do if they got religion?" Lou's laugh calmed to a chuckle.
"Hire more, I expect."
"You are so very right, but why borrow trouble?" She pointed at Fayth. "You must play?"
"Sorry, never learned. My hands were always busy with needle and thread. Besides, I've been banned from proselytizing, so what would be the point?"
"That's what makes you so very acceptable." Lou settled into her desk chair. "Well, we're both busy. I don't suppose you came to pay a social call, Fayth. What brings you here?"
"I came to make arrangements to repay my loan."
"Oh?"
Fayth could tell that she had caught Lou off guard.
"The Captain told me about it. You don't need to feign ignorance." Fayth straightened her skirt nervously. "Look, Lou, I know that he's been making the payments, but it's not his responsibility. It's time I took care of my own debts. I'm afraid there's only one problem—at the moment my cash flow is tight. I've come to ask for lenient terms. I was hoping that you would let me keep my interest current by allowing me to work off some of the debt."
Lou cocked an eyebrow in an exaggerated expression. "The Captain is a liberal man! He's consented to lend you to us?"
Fayth shook her head. She refused to let Lou’s sense of humor rile her. "With my sewing skills."
Lou smiled. "You can't pay me back at all."
"What?" A dozen angry thoughts welled up inside Fayth, but she was astute enough to bite them back. "Whatever our personal differences, I never imagined you to be vicious."
Lou held up a hand to silence her. "I'm not being vicious at all, my dear. Con paid off your debt before he sailed."
Fayth had to fight to keep her surprise and fear from showing. Somehow she finished her business with Lou. Minutes later, Fayth sat in Lou's parlor staring at the promissory note Lou had given her, waiting for Coral. Elizabeth wanted to adopt her baby.
Stunned surprise prevented Fayth from recalling with any accuracy the last minutes of her meeting with the madam. Her thoughts were consumed with Con. How had he managed it? Why? Part of her leaped with hope that he meant the gesture as a way of making amends. Another part feared that he was cutting his losses, and running. Paid in Full was stamped across the document just as if Lou were an institution as legitimate as a bank. Fayth cringed, remembering Lou's familiar use of Con's name, but her worry over it was trivial compared to larger issues.
From the construction bids, Fayth knew the cost of building her second story. Con could not have paid such an amount without robbing a bank, or cleaning his own business out of every dime of operating capital it had. His actions made no sense. Why should he rob his business to keep hers going? Did he have a plan? If he meant to sail out of her life, but had the decency to leave her solvent, had he succeeded? Couldn't her business be seized to pay his debts? Without consulting a lawyer, she couldn't answer the question. Instead, her head kept spinning around the inconsistencies and worries surrounding his actions. Indecision restrained her from action.
Coral walked into the room. Fayth told her about the adoption plans she'd made with her childless cousin Elizabeth, how much Elizabeth and Sterling wanted a child, how Coral would be sent away and her expenses paid for during her pregnancy and for several months after. Coral accepted the offer readily enough. As Fayth prepared to leave, Coral grabbed her harm.
"Your Mr. Tetch has been in here throwing away large sums of money, lately," she said. "Spending time with the most expensive ladies. Bringing them gifts. Buying the best liquor. He's spending as if he owns Con's business rather than works for Con. Watch him, Fayth. Something doesn't feel right about his new habits."
"What are you saying?" Fayth wanted to hear the accusation spoken.
"The Captain can’t pay him half what he’s spending. Just watch him."
Fayth spent the night on the edge of sleep. Morning came as a welcome relief. Restless thoughts plagued her. What did Con's actions mean? Mr. Tetch had to be embezzling from him. It all added up, but how to catch him? She brewed herself a cup of tea, made from dried mint she'd picked from the garden last summer and hung in the carriage house to dry. A knock on the front door shook her from the baffling puzzle of thoughts.
"Captain Bailey?" Fayth was momentarily taken aback by the presence of Con's friend on her doorstep so early in the morning. Worse still, he appeared worried and nervous, decidedly uncomfortable calling on her. "Won't you come in?" She stepped aside to let him pass. "If you've come to see the Captain, I'm afraid you've missed him. He sailed yesterday."
"Yes, ma'am. I know. Ran into him yesterday out on the water. Had a little race." As he smiled, the crow's feet at the corners of h
is eyes deepened. He swept off his hat and moved just inside the entry. "I'm sorry to bother you, Mrs. O'Neill, but I've come to see you. I hope I'm not inconveniencing you?"
"Me? No. I was just having a lonely cup of tea. Won't you join me?"
He followed her back to the kitchen, though she meant for him to wait for her in the parlor while she got the tea tray. But as he seemed more relaxed in the casual setting, she motioned him into a chair and set a cup of tea, the sugar bowl, and a spoon in front of him. He set his hat on the chair next to him before scooping two teaspoons of sugar into his tea and stirring vigorously. She wished she had a sweet to serve him, but he didn't seem to mind her lack of hospitality.
"You have my curiosity, Captain Bailey. What brings you out to see me?"
He blew across his cup and took a sip before speaking.
She smiled and matched his sip, liking his easygoing manner.
"I don't know exactly how to begin. I had my thoughts all organized, but now that I'm here…well, I'm a little nervous speaking to a lady. Especially about the matter that brings me."
Oh, heavens, what now? Fayth forced a smile. "Then speak to me as you would the Captain."
"I don't think so, ma'am." The teasing twinkle in his eye quickly disappeared as he continued. "Truth is, I'm worried about Con. I'm worried his business is in trouble."
Although she should have been steeled to such news, although she believed it herself, her stomach tightened. She set her cup on the table. "What makes you think so, Captain?"
"I'm sure you know Con subcontracts his mail runs to me when he can't make them."
She nodded. Oh, no, here came the demand for payment.
"When Con got the government contract last summer we entered into a gentleman's agreement, just shook hands. No paperwork, didn't need any. I've known Con since he was fourteen."
She nodded again, unsure where the conversation was leading.
"Are you familiar with the way government contracts work?"
"No, I can't say that I am."
The Last Honest Seamstress Page 28
