by Jina Bacarr
Ava squeezed her eyes tight. She should be the happiest woman in the world. She’d proven to all New York she was the Countess of Marbury.
She should be, but she wasn’t.
And it was all his lordship’s fault.
38
3 May 1912
‘I’ve been expecting you, Captain Lord Blackthorn,’ Mrs Benn-Brady said, her voice as smooth as the mauve silk of her day gown and her curiosity as obvious as the large emerald-cut diamond ring squeezing her forefinger. She leaned forward in anticipation. ‘Well, out with it.’
‘You know why I’m here?’ Buck said, surprised.
‘It must be important, your lordship. You demanded to see me, pounding on the front door at the first sign of daylight.’
She bade him sit down in her private study while the housemaid opened the deep green taffeta drapes. A diffused light crept into the room with its teal velvet writing desk equipped with a telephone and Empire chairs covered with plum linen. Spring daffodils stood up tall in a red Chinese vase and embraced what little sunlight there was.
So much had changed since last night. Shortly after Buck had left Lady Pennington sulking in her expensive suite, he’d raced back to the Palm Room, but Ava had already left.
Frustrated, he took a taxi to the Fifth Avenue residence, then decided against barging in at that time of night. What he had to say would take some planning. After what Irene had told him, he couldn’t go through with this insanity any longer.
He wanted Ava back.
Would it be so wrong? He would never have this opportunity again. What harm could come from fighting for her, from speaking his mind and using the faith she’d instilled in him to believe that anything was possible.
Buck had racked his brain all night, trying to figure out what to do. In the end, there was only one way out of this mess.
For that, he needed Mrs Benn-Brady’s help.
‘I’ve come about Ava—’ he began.
‘You’re in love with the countess,’ she said with a calmness he didn’t feel.
Buck froze. And strangely, he didn’t doubt for a moment she had known all along. ‘When did you first suspect my feelings for her, Mrs Benn-Brady?’
‘The night the Carpathia arrived. The docks were filled with anxious people grabbing each other, hoping to find a loved one, with excited reporters following them around like hungry cats.’ She paused, observing him. ‘It was obvious, the way you acted so protective toward her, while Trey… well, my son is a good man, but spoiled rotten. I’ve made many mistakes with him. It’s time I fixed this one.’
Her sentiment toward him was unexpected. She’d struck him more as a woman who had perfected the art of ignoring what she didn’t want to see and covering up her mistakes with convenient lies.
He tried to imagine Trey as a child drawing comfort from the motherly touch of this woman. Someone who loved him, who would heal his sorrows and patch up his bruises. Instead he saw Mrs Benn-Brady more as a woman who couldn’t afford to show any weakness in front of anyone, even her son.
‘If you knew how I felt about the countess,’ Buck asked, ‘why did you invite me into your home and encourage me to instruct her in the social graces?’
‘At first I thought it would be amusing to see if she was in love with you. I must say, it’s been fascinating, watching you two together, trying to deny what is so apparent to everyone, even Trey.’
‘Did he—’
‘No, he never said a word. He’ll do as I ask to get his inheritance, nothing more. That saddens me, but I can’t change it.’ She withdrew a fresh yellow daffodil from the vase and inhaled its scent. ‘Such a sweet fragrance, but its loveliness will fade if it’s left to wither. It would be a pity if the same thing happened to the countess.’
‘I don’t follow you, madam.’ Her words irritated him more than he cared to admit, though he was reluctant to tell her that.
‘She’s trapped by her feelings for you. She’ll never love anyone else.’ Her eyes were so bright when she looked at him, Buck didn’t know whether it was a request or command when she said, ‘Why didn’t you marry the girl when you had the chance?’
‘I have nothing to offer her,’ Buck said honestly. ‘Everything I had was lost when the ship sank.’ He could still hear the screams of the passengers jumping into the cold, freezing sea, hear their pitiful cries for help, and he wondered again why he’d survived and others didn’t.
Mrs Benn-Brady’s eyes sharpened. ‘A girl like that doesn’t care about money. It’s you she wants.’
Strange words that he never expected to hear from this society grande dame. He regarded her closer, the deep gray of her hair showing only at the temples, her finely penciled brows giving her face a queenly lift. She hid her humble past well.
‘I shouldn’t have come here. I have no right to jeopardize Ava’s future with Trey,’ Buck said with a determination in his voice that sounded more like a growl.
‘And what kind of future is that? Fancy balls and nights at the opera? A husband who has no purpose in life? Silly women with nary a serious thought in their heads, all vying with each other to see who has the most elegant frock or the best cook?’ Mrs Benn-Brady threw her arms up in the air. ‘That’s not a life for her. She’s untamed and unspoiled and needs a fine man like you. Go to her and tell her how you feel.’
‘What about the marriage contract she signed?’ he asked, still suspicious of her intentions. Using the handwritten letter by the countess as a guide, Ava had executed her signature perfectly.
Mrs Benn-Brady smiled, the corners of her mouth crinkling. ‘Tear it up. You have my blessing to pursue the countess, your lordship… Buck, if I may call you that. What are your plans?’
‘I intend to stay in America, Mrs Benn-Brady. I’ve had a fine education and I have a good Army record. That will take me places.’
He’d never reveal to her that Ava couldn’t return to Ireland and he’d made a bet to pass her off as the countess.
‘What about Trey?’ he asked.
‘I have no doubt the dear boy will find himself another peeress.’ She beckoned the footman to serve the tea with toast and sweet blueberry jelly. ‘He can book passage on a ship to England after he recovers from his disappointment.’
Now it was Buck’s turn to smile. ‘He may not have to, Mrs Benn-Brady.’
‘You mean Lady Pennington?’ she said coyly, and then helped herself to a liberal spoonful of blueberry jelly on her toast.
‘Yes,’ he said, surprised. He left his tea untouched. ‘How did you know?’
‘I have my spies,’ she said, consuming her breakfast quickly. She was eager to continue the conversation. ‘I heard all about what happened last night in Peacock Alley and later at the Palm Room. Her ladyship has an impressive pedigree. Daughter of a baron, widow of a lord. I don’t see why she would be interested in my son.’
Buck dropped his voice low so they wouldn’t be overheard, and then spoke slowly. ‘Her ladyship received a distressing telegram aboard ship from her late husband’s solicitor. After all his lordship’s debts were paid and his books audited, there was little left for his grieving widow.’
He went on to explain Lord Pennington had made the mistake of investing his fortune in a failed company abroad. No doubt the shock of losing everything had brought about his early demise.
‘Shall we say the lioness is on the hunt again?’ Buck said with a hint of the devil in his smile. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out her scheme. Her eagerness to meet the countess and flirting with Trey. Then trying to seduce him to find out about his old friend’s financial interests.
‘Now that is a fascinating possibility. Lady Pennington strikes me as a woman who knows her primary duty in life is confined to looking beautiful and well-bred.’ She twisted the large diamond ring on her forefinger nervously.
Mrs Benn-Brady thought a moment, then smiled to herself.
‘My dinner guests are expecting a big announcement tomorrow night at the charity
event for the Titanic survivors. I don’t intend to disappoint them. I will introduce the countess as my esteemed guest then... well, you’ll see.’ She pushed away her breakfast tea and empty plate and walked over to the telephone on the desk. ‘I knew this contraption was good for something. Leave everything to me.’
39
4 May 1912
The pink satin corset pinched her ribs so tight Ava couldn’t breathe.
Blanche, her bouncy lady’s maid, hadn’t stopped chattering about Ava’s small waist and lovely shoulders. Perfect to show off at tonight’s party, she’d said, and then off she went to get her ladyship’s gown – leaving Ava alone in her bedroom, pulling and tugging on the long lacings on her corset.
She was all in a tempest, wanting to pull out the pins in her hair and let it swirl around her shoulders like hell’s fire. She should have fought harder for the man she loved, but time had run out for her. She’d give it all up to spend those restless nights again on the Carpathia, sleeping on the floor next to his lordship, listening to him breathe, then wrapping his arm around her when no one was looking.
There was no use crying for what she couldn’t have. She had agreed to his lordship’s plan and now she had to pay the price.
Ava opened the window and a hint of springtime found its way inside.
Now Fifth Avenue was her home.
She took a deep breath and smelled the violet and iris perfumes of the ladies strolling along the fashionable avenue below and heard the honking horns of motorcars. So unlike Queenstown with its cooked cabbages and salty smell of the sea.
No holy saint could change her back into Ava O’Reilly.
The voices in her head had been quiet since that night at the Waldorf. As if no one listened to her sorry self, praying for guidance.
Tonight she would be introduced to Mrs Benn-Brady’s society friends as Trey’s fiancée, the Countess of Marbury.
Sweet Jesus, what would Mary Dolores say?
All she knew was what Ava had written to her.
My dear sister Mary Dolores,
Don’t worry if you don’t see my name on the list of survivors. I’m safe in America. I have a job in a grand house in New York and I’ll write to you soon.
With lots of love, Ava.
It was all she dared tell her until she could send for her.
She laughed with glee. What a time they would have then with Mary Dolores not believing her sister was a grand lady and a countess.
It wasn’t as simple with the countess’s butler, Benson.
Ava lost her smile. Copying Fiona’s handwriting, she’d penned him a letter and told him that the countess had gotten into a lifeboat and was saved. She could never tell him the truth.
She could never tell anyone.
Thinking about Fiona with her gentle ways and fierce love for his lordship, Ava vowed then to use her position as a society lady to help the Titanic survivors and collect money for the relief fund. Then something fine and holy would come of her grand pretense.
And so Ava, who’d never asked to be a countess, who’d never dreamed she’d ever wear silks and velvets, was determined to make it her mission to help those injured when the ship went down and who needed financial assistance.
That didn’t mean her heart would ever heal. There was one man she’d never forget and would always love.
Captain Lord Buck Blackthorn.
When they’d walked through Peacock Alley and he’d leaned down to whisper in her ear, it had pulled her back to the night they’d clung to each other in his cabin. Each knowing it couldn’t last in the class-divided world they lived in, but they couldn’t resist grabbing onto a stolen dream.
Standing in her underwear, Ava let out a deep sigh and shivered with delight as those wonderful thoughts soothed her while she waited for Blanche to bring her gown.
When the door opened, it wasn’t Blanche who barged in, but Mrs Benn-Brady, looking very smug. She was the epitome of elegance in her deep gold satin gown with a black chiffon overskirt and exquisite embroidery around the waist. Diamonds and white crystals gleamed through the veiling on her skirt as she walked.
‘There’s been a change of plans, Countess,’ she said.
‘I don’t understand, Mrs Benn-Brady.’
‘You’re not to wear the blue dress tonight.’
What was she about?
The woman had made such a fuss over picking out what she considered the perfect gown for the dinner party. An empire blue satin draped dress with a pink chiffon overlay embroidered with delicate jet beads.
Why the change?
Standing in front of the French maid, partly cloaked by shadows, Mrs Benn-Brady stepped aside and her eyes flashed with brilliance when Blanche came forward, her arms filled with white satin and filmy netting.
Ava’s jaw dropped. So beautiful a gown could only have been fashioned by nimble fairy fingers.
The maid held up a clinging white gown made from satin-faced organza, a richly beaded and embroidered satin that draped softly around the body with cap sleeves dripping with silver Bordeaux lace.
Ava let out a sigh of pure female pleasure when she ran her hand over the white satin ribbon trim and marveled at the yards and yards of ivory net covered with silk flowers and pearls that formed a long, elegant train.
A gown fit for a princess. And she was just a countess.
‘Magnificent, isn’t it?’ said Mrs Benn-Brady. ‘It lends extreme grace to a woman’s figure and shows off her curves.’
She cast her a quick glance, making the girl blush.
‘Why am I to wear this dress, madam?’ Ava asked. ‘A white dress.’
‘Don’t ask any questions, Countess, just do as I say.’
The bemused expression on her face left no doubt it was a command.
Ava knew something had changed and it had more to do with this dress than the woman was telling her. Could it have something to do with her obsession with the royals?
The Irish girl smiled back as she wiggled into the gown with Blanche helping her, but it was not a smile of submission. Ava guessed what was going on and her smile said so.
The society matron wished to show her off in a white court dress.
Glory be, would she be forced to make a grand curtsy in front of everyone?
There was no doubt in her mind Mrs Benn-Brady was excited about something as she chatted on about the exclusivity of her guest list and how excited she was that Fleischman’s could fulfill her flower order on such short notice. All day long the fragrant bouquets arrived until the mansion was overflowing with vibrant blooms and fresh-smelling greenery.
As the maid finished buttoning up Ava’s dress, they heard a knock on the door. It was Niles. He whispered something in Mrs Benn-Brady’s ear.
‘Tell him to wait. I won’t be but a moment.’
Who could it be? Not Trey. She’d seen him leave for the Waldorf and his cronies.
Buck? He was the guest of honor tonight. Why would he arrive so early?
She had no time to think about it as Mrs Benn-Brady circled her, studying every seeded pearl on her gown. ‘Perfect,’ she said, ‘but there’s one thing missing.’ She turned to Blanche. ‘Hand me my Tossar tiara.’
‘Oui, madame.’ The maid snapped open a round mahogany box and Mrs Benn-Brady lifted the most exquisite tiara Ava could have imagined off a sea of black velvet. The elegant headpiece consisted of a diamond flower spray with seven large emeralds mounted atop the diamonds.
‘Oh, it’s beautiful!’ she said, her voice barely a whisper. The society matron set the Victorian tiara on Ava’s head as if she were performing a coronation.
‘Emeralds contrast well with your hair, my dear Countess,’ said Mrs Benn-Brady, finally giving her approval of Ava’s red hair. She added that the tiara had originally been designed for a Russian princess, with jewels captured from an emissary of Napoleon during the Battle of Waterloo. It was later reset for a lady-in-waiting in Queen Victoria’s court.
Ava didn’t dare
move her head. She had a great desire at that moment to cry for the pure joy of it. Never had she dreamed the likes of her would wear a crown.
‘When I first met you,’ the society matron continued, ‘I said you had the title and I had the tiara. Now you shall have the tiara.’
‘And you the title, Mrs Benn-Brady.’
She waved her hand. ‘Not yet, Countess. Things don’t always work out as planned, though I shall have the pleasure of impressing my guests tonight with an even bigger surprise.’
‘Surprise?’ Ava asked, curious.
‘Yes, but it’s a secret.’ Laughing to herself, she left, but didn’t close the door behind her, leaving it open slightly.
Surprise, was it? By the saints, what was going on?
Ava listened to each beat of her heart. The sound seemed to fill her ears, leaving no room for the words the maid was saying to her, fussing with her hair and setting the tiara in place. She wasn’t listening.
Buck was there. Outside her bedroom, breathing hard, waiting. She had no doubt. Though she couldn’t see him or catch even the slightest glimpse of his broad shoulders, his pure masculine scent lingered. She knew he was there. Waiting for her. But why?
To see her one last time before he collected on his bet, then vanished into the night with Lady Pennington?
‘Shall I bring your white opera gloves, Countess?’ Blanche asked, a twinkle in her eye. She nodded toward the door.
‘That would be lovely, Blanche,’ Ava said, smiling. The French girl understood. She scurried from the bedroom, but she left the door open wide enough so Ava could listen to the conversation in the hallway.
‘Is everything ready for tonight, Mrs Benn-Brady?’ she heard Buck say. Suddenly her pulse was beating rapidly.
The society matron chuckled. ‘Yes, the countess doesn’t suspect a thing.’
‘Excellent. I wouldn’t want to frighten her off.’
‘Even you can’t tame that wildness in her, Buck, though I have to admit I like that about her.’ She rustled her silk skirts. ‘I haven’t had this much fun since Mr Brady and I woke up the local judge at three in the morning to marry us.’
