Shannon's Daughter

by Karen Welch

  She nodded solemnly. “I suppose. It’s been so nice, I almost forgot it was pretend.”

  “Come here.” He patted his knee and pulled her onto his lap. “You know once you’re back in New York, once you’re busy with your work again, this will all fade to pleasant memories. Much as I wish things were different, if we keep this up much longer, it will be too hard to let you go.” Burying his face in her neck, he breathed in her scent. “You have no idea how lovely it is to come through the door and find you here. I have to keep reminding myself that I’m the luckiest man on earth to have you for a few weeks at a time, and I mustn’t get greedy and hope for more. But I do hope. And hope will have to keep me going for now.”

  She exhaled a deep, resolute sigh as though she’d turned a corner. “When do I have to go to London?”

  “Next week. There’s a suite booked at Brown’s for you. I’ll pack up your things, meet you at the station and you’ll make your grand return from your travels abroad. Your father sent a draft to my account to cover your expenses. He’ll inform Aunt Addie of your plans.”

  “He’s worked it all out for me, hasn’t he? And how long do I get to spend in London before he’s flying me back home?”

  “Three weeks. He reckoned that was a suitable period for you to get acquainted with your goddaughter.”

  She stared at the floor, biting her lip. “Will you promise to stay with me at Brown’s? Be my escort everywhere I have to go?”

  “As much as possible. I do have a couple of gigs with the lads, and I’m involved in the negotiations with the orchestra. But I’ll be at your beck and call until you board that plane, I promise.”

  Another few moments of staring blankly and her face slowly brightened. “Margaret? Did they really name the baby after me?”

  “They did. I’m assuming Maeve made the choice to give her daughter someone to emulate as she grows up. It can’t hurt a little girl’s reputation to boast of a godmother who’s both an heiress and prominent New York socialite”

  Peg laughed softly, dropping her head to his shoulder. “I doubt that. She probably just wanted to butter me up for an expensive christening gift. But it is nice. I’m flattered.”

  “Now, what say we put Maeve and little Margaret aside for tonight and enjoy ourselves? Once we clean up here, I’d very much like to see what you’ve done to my bedroom.”

  “Would you? I hope you like it. I wanted it to reflect you a bit more. If you don’t like it. . .”

  “I’ll love it. Just because you did it up for me. And because you shared it with me.” Tipping her face up, he kissed her gently, ignoring the trembling of her lips beneath his.

  As they cleared away the dishes, he gave himself a cautious pat on the back. From what he could tell, Peg was ready to go back to being Michael Shannon’s daughter, ready to resume her place in the family and return to her life in New York. He’d see her through the transition, send her off with an encouraging smile, and then think about how he’d fill the emptiness until the next time she needed him.

  New York City—1958

  Chapter Forty-four

  After Peg’s departure, Kendall expected his life to resume its normal purposeful pace. He anticipated working no more or no less than in years past, spending the usual number of days in Hertford, visiting the home where Jenny resided each month. He envisioned attending the required number of luncheons and dinners with his mother and Patrick, passing the occasional evening with Reggie and Maeve, or others of his old friends. He was certain his life would go on without Peg as it had always done. His mistake was in taking so much for granted.

  Within the month, Kendall Gregg was named the youngest first violin in the history of the London Philharmonic and assumed the respected position of leader. While he was honored by the promotion, he knew it was due at least in part to the abrupt departure of his predecessor once the dust of the contract negotiations settled. His work load increased overnight and he braced himself for the task of smoothing ruffled feathers and encouraging his troops to join him in this new, less lucrative phase of their careers, if not enthusiastically, at least with dedication to their chosen art.

  Within the next month, while Kendall worked day and night with barely time for meals or sleep, neglecting his family and friends in the name of that same dedication, he received word that Jenny had fallen ill. Pneumonia, her father said in his brief telephone call, which the doctor felt could be treated at the home, avoiding the upset of moving her to a hospital. Subsequent calls kept him informed of the hiring of a nurse, Jenny’s discouraging lack of progress, and finally a suggestion that he might want to visit, with the implication that this could be his last such opportunity.

  In all the years since their marriage had ended before it began, Kendall had forbidden himself to contemplate any release other than Jenny’s return to health and her agreement to a divorce. Her death came as a genuine shock, one he was forced to conceal. No one around him knew he’d ever been married, so no one was aware of his sudden status as a widower. Too busy keeping busy to let the news sink in too deeply, he continued to go about his life as he had for years, uncertain just how he was supposed to feel or think about his unexpected freedom.

  When his mother chided him for working too hard, when the lads in the quartet suggested he had the look of a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders, when Reggie repeated his concern about Kendall’s health, he blamed it all on finding his stride in the new job. At night, in the few hours he had to himself, he admitted to feeling unbalanced and uncertain of what to do now that what he had so long hoped for was his. Deep in his conscience, a voice warned him against moving too quickly. Wasn’t the usual rule to wait a year after the loss of a spouse before making any radical changes? While there was nothing “usual” about his situation, it seemed logical to take things slowly, not, as he sometimes fantasized, to rush to New York with a proposal on his lips and an engagement ring in his pocket. That same voice echoed the variety of messages he’d gotten from Peg through the years, from her declaration that she never intended to marry based on her responsibilities to her father, to her wish for things to be “different,” and wistful allusions to that hypothetical ivy-covered cottage. He had no real idea how she would react to the news that he was now free to marry, and he admitted to no small amount of fear at learning that reaction.

  By Christmas, fantasy won out over fear. He didn’t go so far as to buy a ring or rehearse a proposal, but he made up his mind to tell Peg the truth. Like any sensible man on a mission, he booked a flight and a hotel room, and sent a telegram informing her of his arrival in early January. Like any dreamer of impossible dreams, he imagined numerous romantic scenarios, including weeping together with relief and planning a June wedding. Pragmatically, he hoped she’d at least agree to make their relationship public and consider a more conventional arrangement—dare he mention marriage—in the distant future. At the last minute, just in case fantasy by some miracle became reality, he packed his grandmother’s engagement ring.

  Apparently the moment she received his wire, Peg telephoned, catching him preparing for a rare early night. “Why are you coming to New York?” He’d expected her to be surprised, but there was also a hint of alarm in her voice.

  “To see you, brat. What other reason would I have?” He juggled the phone while shrugging on his dressing gown.

  “How are you explaining that to everyone? I mean, won’t they question why you’re going to such lengths, just to see me?” He chose to ignore the suspicion in her question.

  “Possibly. But I don’t have to answer their questions. Besides, they’ve all been urging me to take a vacation. You do want me to come?”

  “Of course I do! I’m just a little bit confused. And you don’t have to stay at a hotel. Dad and Adamson are in Florida, and there’s no one here with me but Mrs. Leary.”

  “No, I think I’ll keep my reservation. More privacy. And I always promised myself I’d stay at the Plaza someday.”

  “All ri
ght, but it’s really not necessary. We managed fine the last time you were here.”

  He chuckled at the vision of her pouting on the other end of the line. “I’d rather not live in fear of discovery this time. Listen, Peg, you caught me on the way out the door. We’ll have plenty of time in a few days to talk this over.”

  If he felt any shame at lying to her, he tempered it with the knowledge that in their new relationship, there would be no need for lies ever again.

  He had anticipated many things at their first meeting, joy followed by passion taking the top spot on the list. He had not expected Peg to appear nervous, even wary as she led him into her father’s study after an awkward and all too brief welcoming kiss.

  Hoping to ease her anxiety, he sat on the couch and patted the spot beside him. “There’s something we need to talk about, love. Might as well get it over with.”

  Her eyes darkened further as she took her place some inches from him on the cushion, folding her hands tensely in her lap.

  “You saw the pictures, didn’t you? I had no idea they’d be in the London papers.”

  “Pictures?” His heart, already beating at a steadily mounting pace, accelerated sharply.

  “It was nothing, Kendall.”

  “I’m sure it was. . .nothing. But tell me anyway. About those pictures.”

  “I only went out with him because I had no real reason to refuse. And he’d been so good about taking on my responsibilities while I was away last fall. The papers got the wrong impression. Gerry even offered to talk to some of the editors to try to quiet things down.”

  “Gerry?”

  “Yes. Gerald Morgan.” She hesitated. “You did see the pictures, didn’t you?”

  He wished desperately for a drink behind which to hide his smile. “No, brat. I haven’t seen any pictures of you and Gerry. Would I have been upset, had I been so fortunate?”

  Her shoulders slumped and she spread her hands. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For assuming you came all the way to New York because you thought I was involved with someone else.”

  “A bit facetious, but nothing to be sorry for. Are you. . .involved with Gerry?”

  “No! As I said, the papers jumped to the wrong conclusion because we went out a few times and got our picture taken together looking as if we might be. . .well, close. There were even rumors that we were engaged. We’ve known each other forever. He’s Dad’s right hand at the bank. He’s a very nice man, but not the least bit interesting in that way. And besides, what they don’t know is that I have you and I’m not even interested in any other man.”

  As Peg paused for breath, Kendall breathed a sigh of only partially feigned relief. “Ah, well I’m glad to hear it. And there’s no truth to the rumors that you’re engaged, you and Gerry?”

  “Of course not. You know very well I never plan to get married. I even explained that to Gerry when he. . .” she bit her lip.

  “When he proposed? Sounds as if Gerry’s a whirlwind romance kind of guy.”

  “I was going to say when he asked me what I’d say if he did propose. So he didn’t really get to that point. I’m making a huge mess of this, aren’t I?”

  “I wouldn’t say huge. And who could blame Gerry for trying to sweep you off your feet, or you for accepting his proposal if he’d gotten to that point? Up until now, I certainly haven’t been in a position to offer you anything of that sort.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, blinked at him, and let out a little gasp. Narrowing her gaze, she stared at him for a long moment. “Up until now?”

  Taking her hand, he let another moment pass. “That brings us to what I wanted to talk about before we got off on the subject of Gerry. There’s no gentle way to say this, so I’ll just say it plainly. Jenny is dead.”

  Her gasp this time was one of genuine dismay. “Oh, Kendall, I’m sorry! How? When?”

  Moved by her sympathy more than he’d expected, he cleared the lump in his throat. “Pneumonia. Early November.”

  She reached up to caress his cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  “I wanted to tell you in person. It didn’t seem the sort of thing to write about. And frankly, it took some time for me to adjust to the fact myself.”

  “It must have been a shock.”

  “I’d never really imagined it ending that way. I suppose I’d resigned myself to the idea that it might never end at all.”

  “How do you feel about it?”

  He took a deep breath. “Honestly, a little unbalanced. It changes things.”

  “Things?”

  “My future. My present for that matter. And yours, too, I hope.”

  Her only answer was a whispered, “Oh.”

  When he reached for her, she came into his arms gently, nestling her head on his shoulder and running a comforting hand over his chest. “Not something we have to discuss right now. I’d hope you’d let me take you someplace nice for dinner, maybe even dancing. A date, I believe they call it. Preferably, somewhere we’re likely to get our picture taken.”

  Peg seemed to think about that. “We don’t have to hide anymore, do we?”

  “No. And you are forbidden to introduce me to anyone as your cousin. I’m willing to be your friend, at least for now, but I am not going to pose as a member of your family any longer. We are two unattached adults engaging in whatever unattached adults get up to. If that’s agreeable with you, of course.”

  “Um. That sounds nice.” She nestled closer, turning her face up. “It will take some getting used to though.”

  “No hurry, love.”

  “Were you sad, when Jenny died, I mean?”

  “A bit. Sad for her and her family. Sad for what never happened. But I also felt relieved, for Jenny and for myself.”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to comfort you. You must have felt so alone.”

  He let out a long sigh. “It’s over now. And I want very much to get on with life. So no regrets, all right?”

  “All right.” She pressed her lips to his jaw. “If we’re going out, I’ll need to get ready. I want to look my best for our date. Where are we going?”

  “You chose. Make a reservation and I’ll pick you up in one of those shiny yellow cabs at eight.” He reluctantly untangled himself and stood. “And if you have any engagements planned with Gerry or any other man in the next two weeks, I’d appreciate it if you’d cancel them. While I’m here, I intend to occupy your every waking hour. Once I’ve gone you can make it up to them, can’t you?”

  Peg snaked her arms around his neck and grinned up at him. “There’s nothing to cancel, and no one to make anything up to, silly man. And I still don’t see why you can’t stay here. It would be so much more convenient, for ‘occupying’ all my waking hours.”

  “But highly improper, given the newly elevated status of our relationship.”

  “Newly elevated?”

  “We are no longer engaged in a clandestine affair, sweetheart. This is all-out courtship, or it will be if you’ll let me have my head.” He saw the waver in her gaze, the instant of surprise, before she grinned again.

  “I see. Is that a promise or a warning?”

  “Take it any way you like. I’ve never courted a woman before, so it’s probably a bit of both. I’m afraid I’ll be making it up as I go along.”

  Her grin softened to a smile. “Since I’ve never let a man court me before, we’ll both be making it up as we go along. Sounds kind of exciting to me.”

  He pulled her to him, lowering his face to within inches of hers. “I’m so glad you think so.”

  She stopped him just short of the kiss he’d been anticipating since his arrival. “But we’ll take our time, won’t we? I’m not sure what you expect of me.”

  Lifting his head, he was struck by the uncertainty in her eyes. “I don’t expect anything, but I hope for a great many things. And yes, we’ll take all the time you need.” The uncertainty faded. “Now what does a man have to
do to get a proper kiss from you, beyond flying across an ocean and risking life and limb in New York traffic?”

  She drew his head down, cool fingers caressing the back of his neck. “Just ask.”

  Chapter Forty-five

  Hindsight told him he should have taken those words to heart. If he’d only asked her, they might have cemented their relationship in those first days. If he’d been bold enough to take out the ring—tucked in his pocket on more than one of their “dates”—fallen to one knee and said something traditional like “marry me,” there was the possibility she might have said “yes” before she had a chance to think too much about the direction that would turn them.

  As it was, they took advantage of all New York had to offer, laughed more than usual, made love at every available opportunity, and never once talked seriously about the future in general or theirs in particular.

  He was aware of the warning signs, as Peg repeatedly emphasized how busy her work with the foundation kept her, how much she enjoyed the fundraising and how many young artists, fledgling ensembles and deserving programs had been funded through her efforts. She mentioned Michael’s increasingly fragile health with pointed frequency, revealing his plan to purchase property in Florida which she would be refurbishing for him in the coming months. Too happy to simply spend time with her in this new context, he chose to ignore them.

  “You’re a busy lady. I can see I won’t have to worry about your getting bored.” Across the candlelit table, Peg seemed nervous on this, their final evening together.

  “And your schedule must be full, with the orchestra and the quartet. I’m surprised you could take the time to come to New York right now.” Her eyes wide and luminous, she flashed him a suggestive smile. “I’m so glad you did, though.”

  “Are you?”