by Joanna Shupe
And what of Hugo’s wife in China, the woman Calvin maintained he’d married? Calvin had promised Hugo never to reveal the truth, lest the wrong people discover Hugo’s secret. Someone like Lee, who would not hesitate before turning Hugo’s wife over to those men in China who still wished Hugo dead.
To go back on such a promise now would be dishonorable. Hugo was like family to Calvin, and Calvin would never be able to live with himself if he broke that vow.
Until Hugo was reunited with his wife, Calvin had no right to interfere with Lily’s life. He thought of that night, the one when he’d waited for Lily outside her house, and how gay she’d appeared. Perhaps they were both better off this way.
Nothing lasts. Keep moving forward.
Slowly, Calvin retreated, then moved to the other bench. Lily began righting her hair, and he closed his eyes, trying to regain a bit of control. He had no one to blame but himself, goading her as he had, and kissing her hadn’t solved any of his problems. Indeed, it had only worsened them.
“I apologize,” he said. “I shouldn’t have started that.”
“You may make it up to me by helping with Tom and Lee’s daughter.”
He had no intention of doing anything of the kind. “That bracelet, the one you gave Petey. You turned it over without a second thought.”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I, if to help find my brother? I’d give away a hundred bracelets to get answers.”
“Was it real?” He instantly regretted the words. “Forget it. Why would Lillian Davies ever wear paste?”
“You are overly concerned about money. How did I never know this?”
“I’m concerned about you throwing yours away.” That she’d easily parted with something of such high value had reminded him of his parents. “There’s no nobility in poverty, Lily.”
“You speak from experience, I assume?”
He didn’t answer, merely set his jaw and stared out the window. Even during their courtship and marriage, he hadn’t told Lily much about his upbringing. She knew he’d traveled extensively but nothing of his childhood. Certainly no reason to dredge up the past now.
“Why don’t you ever talk about it?” she asked.
“Because it’s in the past. No one cares about the past, only what’s happening now.”
“Spoken like a true newspaperman.”
The carriage turned up Fifth Avenue. A few minutes and they would arrive at Lily’s home at the corner of Sixty-Fourth Street. He had something to tell her, something she wasn’t going to like hearing. “Speaking of the newspaper, I want the Mercury to break the story of our marriage and annulment.”
She gave a swift intake of breath. “Absolutely not! Calvin, you cannot. It might . . . It would be very hurtful to people in my life.”
People meaning Fields, he supposed. “The only way to stop a blackmailer, Lily, is to take away his or her leverage. If the world learns of the annulment, then Lee has nothing on us. It’s the right thing to do.”
“For you!” she snapped, her gaze glowing bright with indignation and fury. “The right thing for you. Which makes perfect sense because you only think about yourself. You care nothing for anyone else.”
Not entirely true, but no use debating it now. “Think about it. When you’re calm, you’ll see this makes sense. If not Lee, then someone else will try to use this against one of us down the road. And if I print it, I can control the story.”
Lily rubbed her temples, not speaking, and the carriage wheels began to slow. “Why would I do anything to help you, Calvin?”
“Lee wants you to produce your brother in four days. If you fail, the annulment becomes a scandal. Why not allow me to print it, when I can spin the story into something less . . . sordid?”
Which meant he could print news of the brief marriage and annulment while leaving out any part of a wife in China. No guarantee Lee would do the same. Controlling information was the key to everything in this world.
“No. Absolutely not.”
He clenched his jaw. Her stubbornness was going to ruin Hugo’s life. Why couldn’t this woman ever do things simply and easily? Be more goddamned agreeable?
“Lily, I don’t need your permission to print it. That I’m even telling you is a matter of courtesy.”
“If you run that story without my consent, I’ll buy your papers and shut them down.”
He was about to ask if she had the money, but then remembered with whom he was speaking. Of course she had the money.
He tried to reason with her. “We can control the story this way. I’ll even paint myself as the villain, say that I seduced you and your father rescued you from my debauchery.”
“Which is the truth, I might add.”
A chuckle emerged from his throat. “More like you seduced me, asking me to meet you that night. Remember, in the tiny garden shed in the back—”
“I remember,” she interrupted, not amused in the least. “How am I supposed to explain our past to my family? Montgomery? All those people who never knew we eloped in the first place?”
He inwardly cursed, knowing what he was about to do and hating every minute of it. How had his life gotten so turned upside down?
He dropped his head against the seat back and sighed. “If you allow me to print the story, I’ll come with you to Newport and help you with your brother.”
Her head snapped up, lips twisting into a sly smile that boded ill for the future. “Deal.”
* * *
The train car bumped and rocked along the tracks. Thankfully, their trip to Newport was on schedule thus far. Lily snuck a glance at Calvin, who occupied a chair in the sitting area, a stack of stories in his hands, pencil flying over the sheets as he wrote notes. His associate, a man named Jim Evans, sat opposite, collecting the sheets once Calvin finished with them. The only other person in the car was Hugo, who had taken up near the door of her private rail coach.
They had departed for Newport at first light. Calvin had agreed to go early, but only if Mr. Evans could ride along to allow the two of them to work. Lily had conceded, anxious to get to the cottage and find her brother.
She’d never seen Calvin work before. His focus was impressive. He scribbled, drew lines, and made edits on the stories at a furious clip, not even glancing up for forty-five minutes. Occasionally, he’d pepper Mr. Evans with questions, but mostly he churned through the stories. Was he so obsessive that he needed to read every detail printed in one of his papers? That seemed a massive undertaking, one that was surely unnecessary. Couldn’t Mr. Evans handle the editing? Or one of the other hundreds of employees at the papers?
Not that she was complaining. If Calvin was busy, that meant he was not trying to kiss her. Or flirt with her. Or touch her. The incident in the carriage had been a colossal mistake, one that could not be repeated.
Why had she allowed him to kiss her? Fair’s fair, you actually kissed him. Yes, he’d goaded her into the contact, but the fault lay squarely at her feet. Her lips had found his, not the other way around. Regardless, she was nearly promised to Montgomery. He was her future, not the former husband who’d taken her father’s money. Nice, predictable Montgomery, who wanted to travel and attend parties. They would have a boring, quiet life, one without the highs and lows she’d had with Calvin. Indeed, she fervently hoped never to experience heartbreak again.
Seeing Calvin these past few days had resurrected longings she’d assumed dead and buried. Yet he hadn’t changed. He was still the same selfish, manipulative rogue as before. He couldn’t be trusted. But she couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss....
“I apologize that your days off were cut short,” she heard Calvin saying to Mr. Evans. “Please pass my apologies to your wife as well. I had no idea I’d need to leave town so suddenly.” Calvin had finished with his stack of paper, the stories now tucked away in Mr. Evans’s satchel.
“Perfectly understandable, Cabot. Mavis doesn’t know what to do with me when I’m home anyway. Now, what’s the story you want to lead
with in tomorrow’s evening edition?”
Calvin tossed his pencil onto the table. “You’d better take this down.”
Mr. Evans picked up the writing utensil and opened a notebook. “Fire away, boss.”
“It’s the story of my former marriage—and annulment—to Miss Lillian Davies.”
Mr. Evans’s jaw fell open and his surprised gaze swung between Calvin and Lily. “I’m sorry... did you say Miss Lillian Davies?”
“Yes, I did.” Calvin locked gazes with Lily. The man’s eyes were twinkling, that was how much he enjoyed this. “We need to paint it as a whirlwind courtship, where I took advantage of her. Then her father stepped in and rescued her from my undue influence.”
“There’s no need to lie on my behalf, Calvin,” she said. “I’m a grown woman and I can take my medicine.”
“Yes, but we agreed to do this my way.” He stretched in the chair, crossing his legs at the ankles. “If there’s medicine to be taken, it’s mine.”
She knew what he was trying to do: assuage his guilt over letting her father come between them. Part of her knew he deserved it, but she also didn’t need his protection. Don’t expect anyone to take care of you, her father had often said. Warren Davies had raised her to stand on her own two feet whenever possible. She would not hide behind Calvin, even though it might be easier.
“No, Calvin. We’re equally at fault. Tell the truth. I can withstand the public outcry, should there be one.”
“Perhaps I should hear the whole story first,” Mr. Evans suggested gently. “Then we can decide how to spin it.”
“We met four years ago at a party,” Calvin said. “I pursued her, not knowing who she was. By the time I learned she was Warren Davies’s daughter, it was too late. I was smitten. We eloped roughly two months later to Hotel Fauchère in the Poconos. Her father arrived during the honeymoon, annulment papers in hand, and demanded I walk away.”
“Did he pay you off?”
“He wrote a check, but I’m not willing to reveal that information. Let’s just leave it that her father disapproved.”
Mr. Evans blurted out, “He just offered you money and you walked away?” His head dipped in Lily’s direction. “Apologies, Miss Davies. I know it’s none of my business.”
“No apologies needed, Mr. Evans. At the time the news surprised me as well.” An understatement. She’d been devastated, and had clung to the belief that Calvin would return.
“I had no leverage,” Calvin snapped. “Davies held all the cards.”
The way he said it gave Lily pause. Cards, not card. Had he used the expression out of habit . . . or were there more reasons he’d walked away from their marriage? She only knew of her father’s threat to cut off her funds. “Cards, plural? What were those, exactly?”
Hugo cleared his throat loudly, but Calvin ignored everyone except Mr. Evans. “Just print the story the way I want, Jim.”
“May I speak with you?” Lily asked Calvin. “Privately?”
A muscle worked in Calvin’s jaw but he nodded. “Jim, you’ve got enough to keep you busy until you turn around in New Haven, I think.”
Mr. Evans stood, the leather satchel clasped firmly in his right hand. “I do. I’ll leave you to your trip, Cabot. Miss Davies,” he said with a polite dip of his chin.
“Mr. Evans,” she returned with a warm smile.
Mr. Evans strode toward the car’s exit and Calvin said, “Hugo, give us a moment.”
Hugo departed directly after Mr. Evans, leaving Lily and Calvin alone. Calvin lifted his arms and laced his fingers behind his head. “It was a figure of speech, Lily.”
The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Something was not right. “I don’t believe you. What are you keeping from me?”
“Not a thing.” He didn’t meet her eyes, instead staring at a point on the wall behind her.
He was lying. Lily had never been more sure of anything in her life. But she was tired of lies. She was tired of Calvin’s evasions and half-truths. Perhaps there had been another reason for his signing the annulment papers. Or, indeed, three reasons. Fifteen reasons. It no longer mattered to her. The man was like a long ball of yarn: the more you unraveled, the more threads followed. One thing she knew: She did not want to be tangled up in his mess any longer.
“You’re lying to me, which is nothing new. The difference is that I no longer care.”
Chapter Nine
I no longer care.
Those four words rolled around in Calvin’s brain, knocking about to give him a terrific headache. He reached for the glass of whiskey he’d poured moments earlier, just after she’d exited the railcar, and tossed the contents back. The spirits were smooth on his tongue, woodsy, and burned all the way down to his stomach. He refilled his glass and stared out the window.
Of course she was right. He had lied. Any fool would have noticed—and Lily was no fool. In his irritation at Jim’s questions, his mouth had spewed the nonsense about Davies holding all the cards . . . and Lily had picked up on his slip. But he couldn’t tell her the truth. He’d made a promise that could not be broken.
Not that Calvin regretted the final outcome. Once the blush of passion faded, Lily would’ve been miserable married to a man like him, one who worked long hours and couldn’t escort her to parties and on trips. The two of them had married too quickly, just after becoming acquainted. That decision would’ve come to haunt them later on. She was far better off this way.
We must have less so that others may have more.
The door to the car opened and closed and Hugo soon lowered himself into a chair. Calvin reached to pour a drink in one of the clean glasses on the table, then handed the crystal tumbler to his friend. He lifted his own and held it up in a toast. “To women loved and lost.”
“Maybe you should’ve told her. We’re getting nowhere as it is. I’m still alone, my wife’s in China, Lee’s not cooperating, and you’re working yourself to the bone.”
An overwhelming sense of guilt formed a knot in Calvin’s chest. He closed his eyes and released a deep breath. “We’ll bring her over, Hugo. I swear it.”
“I know, and I’m not saying it to drive a knife into your heart. You’ve done everything you can.” He paused, set down his glass, and wiped his hands on his trousers. “Maybe it’s time I stop relying on you and go get her myself.”
Calvin straightened. Hugo hadn’t mentioned this in a long time, a possibility they had always discounted because of the danger. “And the men who wanted to kill you? I suppose they are no longer in Yuen Long?”
“No, they’re there. They’d have killed her by now if they knew she’d married me.”
“So how do you possibly think to help her by showing up on her doorstep?” Hugo shrugged, but Calvin knew how Hugo suffered over this. He strove for rationality over emotion. “If Lee finds out, he’ll use that information against us. He’ll turn her over to your former employer.”
While living in China, Hugo had found work with a powerful opium farmer who wanted Hugo to oversee the workers in the field with the same ruthlessness as American slaves had been treated. It was while working in one of these villages that Hugo had met a Chinese girl and fallen in love. He then began helping the workers escape. Unfortunately, the opium grower learned of Hugo’s betrayal and tried to have him killed. To return now would be a death sentence.
At the time Calvin had been working for the superintendent of trade, assisting a British team in the countryside searching for the best place to erect telegraph poles. As both a speaker of English and Cantonese, he’d been the one to negotiate with the opium farmers. He’d met Hugo in the village and the two men had become friends over a shared love of whiskey and poker.
“You cannot go over there. Give me a bit more time. If we stay sharp, we can swap Lee’s daughter for your wife.”
“And leave the missus’s brother in trouble? You know it’s not going to end well for Tom Davies, Calvin.”
“I can’t worry about that. He’s
a grown man. If he can’t protect himself against Lee, that’s no concern of mine. My worry is keeping Lee’s daughter hidden until Lee sets the wheels in motion for your wife to come to America.”
“Do you think he will?”
“He will if he wants his daughter back.”
Hugo stroked his jaw for a moment. “You had this planned the moment you heard her brother took Lee’s daughter, didn’t you?”
“It’s been in the back of my mind, yes. I wanted Lily to find her brother first, then have her inform me where he’s hiding Lee’s daughter. But she would not relent about my making this trip to Newport.” Calvin finished his drink and grasped the bottle once more to refill his glass. “We have no idea if Tom is even in Newport. This could be a waste of two or three days.”
“Not a waste if you can get the missus to forgive you.”
Calvin nearly choked on his drink, whiskey scorching his insides. “Stop calling her the missus—and she’ll never forgive me. Hell, I wouldn’t forgive me. But even if her father had been bluffing about cutting her off, I could not have allowed Davies to reveal the information about my wife back in China.”
“If we have Lee’s daughter as leverage, perhaps it’s time to tell the truth.”
“The truth is what I say it is. I’ve got three newspapers to prove it.”
Hugo shook his head, his mouth pulled into a frown. “You may be many things, but you are not God.”
“Not yet,” Calvin replied and drained his glass. “But I’m working on it.”
* * *
The spring flowers had begun to bloom in Newport, the pink and white cherry blossoms a welcome sign after winter’s thaw. As the carriage traveled toward Barrineau, the Davies cottage, Lily focused on the beauty of the landscape rather than Calvin, who was snoring loudly on the seat across from her.
She suspected he’d consumed too much alcohol on the train, if the strong stench of whiskey rolling off him was any indication. Though he hadn’t been stumbling or making a fool of himself when they disembarked, he had been uncharacteristically quiet. Then he’d climbed into the carriage, settled into the seat, and immediately closed his eyes. Was this a regular occurrence, opium dens and public intoxication?
