Heaven Bound (A Blakemore Family Book: Madame Lou Series Book 2)

by Hoyt, Saralynn

  Adeline felt her heart swell almost painfully in her chest as she watched Jack turn and wander away. It had been stupid of her to mention his mourning and she wished she could take it back and see Jack smile again. She would have to bite her tongue at dinner tonight and allow the countess to distract him even if she flirted with Jackson, no matter how much it grated on Addie’s nerves.

  Walking back toward her father’s luxurious parlor suite, she made her way slowly, taking in the view of New York’s shoreline as the ship made its way out to sea. Addie wondered if she would ever see her home again. It didn’t seem real that she was on her way to marry a man she’d never met and live in a land she’d never seen. It had been difficult to leave behind everything she’d worked for these last few years. She’d become an important part of the labor movement, helping those less fortunate than herself to fight for their rights and basic needs. And now she would have start all over again in London. Although, when she allowed herself to be perfectly honest, she was quite excited to be able to delve into the many new causes that would await her.

  Although she knew it wasn’t proper, and Adeline realized that the working class of Great Britain would probably frown on someone of her station mixing with them, she was determined to bring her American sense of independence with her into her new life. It was silly, really, that people still believed in separation of the different social classes here in the twentieth century. Even on this ship there were clear distinctions. Addie couldn’t wait to put on her factory girl costume and wander below decks to see what the working folks were up to. She was certain they would be having a much jollier time than she, who would be changing outfits four or more times a day and for no reason other than social norms dictated it.

  Addie felt quite restricted by the societal constraints she was held to, especially since shortly after her eighteenth birthday she had discovered the joy she derived from reform and the suffragette cause. Adeline had been more determined than ever to effect some changes in her father’s factories. She’d felt she owed it to the workers who, with their labor, provided for her own privileged life. Over the years, Addie had managed to ensure a fair wage and a few other perks for the James’ employees without her father being any the wiser that his own daughter had been responsible for the changes. Although doing good works anonymously was something she did without complaint, Adeline wished that she could shout from the rooftops that she was responsible for the improvements in working conditions. She longed to take credit for all her hard work, but it was not possible, given her status and situation.

  Besides, the places she went and the people she spent time with would have shocked her friends and family if they had known. Most likely she would have been cast out of all the social circles that her mother had spent so many years trying to get them into. If it wasn’t for the fact that Addie adored both her parents and really didn’t want to disappoint them, she would never have agreed to this marriage plan. If Adeline had been able to make her own decision about the matter, she would have turned her back on any marriage and simply continued her life as an independent woman of means.

  Sighing with resignation, Addie entered their first-class apartments and waited for her maid to begin the long and excruciating process of dressing her for dinner.

  “There you are, Miss.” Emily Stone said with a bright smile. “Did you want to rest before we get started on your toilette?” The young woman was about the same age as Adeline—who was nearly twenty-two—but maybe a few years older, and Simon had brought her all the way from England last year to ensure that Addie would have a proper lady’s maid. Her reference was from the late dowager duchess of Billingsley and father had paid dearly to convince Emily to make the trip to America.

  “Emily...”

  “Stone, Miss, you must address me as Stone.”

  “I don’t know why the English insist on such formalities.” Adeline grumbled as she allowed Emily to unpin her hat and begin the complicated process of helping her to undress.

  “Tradition is very important back home.”

  “Well, I think it’s time for all those dusty old rules to get a bit of shake up, is all I’m saying.”

  “And you off to find yourself an arranged marriage.” Emily snorted. “That’s about as old and dusty a tradition as you can find.”

  Adeline sighed, slumping her shoulders in defeat. “You’re right—Stone. Who am I to bluster on about being a modern woman when I’m about to allow my father to offer me to the man with the best pedigree in exchange for a fortune? I really can’t imagine anything more medieval then that.”

  Emily laughed and Addie grinned ruefully at the discrepancies of her life.

  Over an hour later, Adeline joined her father in the small but well-appointed sitting room. The ship had every modern convenience including electric lights, fully-appointed water closets, and even an onboard telephone system. Although they were limited in terms of space, their rooms were probably the some of the finest aboard. They had one of the Louis XIV suites next to a private promenade. The ceilings were set with intricate plaster moldings and it was appointed with expensive French carpets, wall paper and delicate gilded furniture. The fabrics were all the finest silks, velvets, and damasks. Every detail had been thought of, from the crystal chandeliers to the oil paintings on the walls. All this expense in order to serve the richest and most influential of the ship’s guests for the short seven to eight day crossings.

  “You will capture every man’s heart tonight, my dear.” Simon James said to Addie from his seat in front of the marble fireplace. A small blaze glowed as he sat sipping a glass of whiskey in a fine crystal cut glass. For a man nearing fifty, he still cut a fine figure as well, even if he was a bit thick around his midsection. But he had all of his hair, swept back from his forehead with a bit of pomade that made the gray appear darker.

  Adeline enjoyed the praise from her father, although she had heard it from him many times before. Tonight, she couldn’t help but agree. Emily Stone had done amazing things with her hair and the small amount of cosmetics that a woman of her age and class could respectably be allowed. She glanced one last time in the gilded mirror hanging over the mantelpiece and admired the way her sapphire and diamond necklace and earrings enhanced the length of her neck and the swell of her bosom. Her light blond hair was swept up in the latest style, with her curls prominent and perfectly arranged around her head. The dress was one that had been specially made for her by Jean-Philippe Worth himself. The yards of ice-blue satin and Italian lace in the latest style made her appear slightly ethereal. The diamond tiara that crowned her head had been a gift from her father on her twenty-first birthday last year. No expense had been spared.

  Simon James’ fortune and standing in New York was beyond compare. He vied with the Astors and the Vanderbilts for the title of most affluent citizen yet, until his daughter could claim a title, he was still rated below them in rank.

  “Come now, Adeline,” her father said, putting his glass down and standing, “I’m quite famished from exposure to all this sea air. Did you invite Jackson to join us? I do hope we don’t end up with some obnoxious widow at our table. The last time I made the journey there was this awful woman—Mrs. Simpson, I recall—who wouldn’t stop talking about her damned horses. I don’t know why these head waiters think they need to match everyone up.”

  Adeline held back a giggle. Papa was a wealthy widower, and it was impossible to avoid having every unmarried matron vie for his attention. She actually quite enjoyed watching him squirm whenever the situation arose, which was often. Maybe while she was looking for her own husband, she might also spend a bit of time looking for a new wife for the great Simon James.

  “Speaking of which, Lady Henrietta Everton, Countess of Huntingdon will be joining us. She says she knew you and Mama a very long time ago.” Addie watched her father to see what his reaction would be. After all, the countess was still quite lovely and really still very young, especially compared to father.

 
“Henrietta? Oh, yes, I remember her. Your mother was fond of her before she moved to England—took her under her wing, as I recall. Thank goodness I won’t have to worry about her trying to trap me into marriage. She and I never got on all that well.”

  “Why not? I mean, if Mama liked her?”

  “Henrietta didn’t approve of me and my business principles. So I imagine you and she shall be fast friends, Addie; thick as thieves, and I shall hope that Jack will find a reason to defend me instead of taking your side as he usually does.”

  “Since you brought it up, Papa, as I’m not planning on coming home with you after all is said and done, you must promise me that you will consider my proposal for an on-site nursery in all of your factories.” Adeline took her father’s arm as they left their suite to make their way to the dining room.

  “Is such an expense really necessary, Addie?” Simon James tried to argue with his daughter, but she hoped that he would eventually give in to her request. Once she could show him that the small expenditure could increase the laborers’ productivity and pay for the facility multiple times over, he would have to agree.

  Addie tried not to think about the fact that she was going to miss her father deeply once the time came for him to go. She didn’t want to ponder the fact that she was going to be all alone, with a husband who would be a virtual stranger to her. It was times like these that Adeline especially missed Clara, who would have teased her and promised that she would help Addie find a man who would fall madly in love with her and be a Romeo to her Juliet. Of course, Addie didn’t really believe in that fairytale anymore. If Clara could die and Jack’s heart could be so completely broken, why would she even want to fall in love and live in fear of such a thing ever happening to her?

  * * *

  Jackson allowed his valet, Griffin, to help him dress in a tuxedo for dinner. But once the young man was finished brushing off his jacket, he dismissed him.

  “Don’t bother with helping me undress tonight; I can manage on my own.”

  Griffin bowed slightly, used to Jackson’s gruffness lately. To his credit, the man was never put off by it and managed to appear as if by magic whenever Jack required his services.

  The only reason Jack was dressing for dinner was because he’d spent the last three months drinking alone in his mansion in New York. He’d barely received any visitors and, even then, only Addie and her father, who hadn’t been able to get him to do anything other than plan for this trip back home.

  The last time he’d been on an ocean liner had been when he and Clara left England over ten years ago. Back then, their cabin had been a tiny one-room third-class affair with only a bed and wash basin. He and Clara had been so in love that the meager accommodations had not mattered. Now, he was in a first-class cabin that had its own water closet and a sitting room. Smaller than the one the Jameses had, but a vast improvement over that cramped space all those years ago.

  Crazy as it sounded, Jack could remember that voyage as if it were yesterday. He and Clara had been so young when they’d gotten married without his father’s approval. As the youngest son of an earl, he’d been expected to purchase his commission with the Royal Navy as an officer. The old earl had insisted that the post also would include marriage to an equally well-born lady. A girl who would hopefully have an inheritance or dowry that would keep them accustomed to a lifestyle that is required by those born into the right lineages.

  Unfortunately for the earl, Jackson did not share his father’s eagerness to ensure such an antiquated tradition continued to survive. Much to the earl’s chagrin, Jack had fallen head over heels in love with a wholly inappropriate girl; ‘the village’s tavern wench’ was the term Lord Abingdon had used. But Jack couldn’t help it; he’d taken one look at Clara and never even considered another woman again. Not for over ten years.

  And now they were going home, but Clara wasn’t sharing the luxury suite with him. Instead, her cold body lay below deck in a coffin, never to see the light of day again. What Jack wouldn’t give to trade every penny he had for a cramped third-class cabin if only it meant that he was sharing it with his beautiful bride again.

  Feeling his throat tighten with the familiar pain of loss, Jackson clenched his jaw, determined to join his friends for dinner instead of drowning his pain in whiskey. With one last look at his grim reflection, he forced himself to find his way to the dining room.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Madame Lou’s London Tea Shop was closed for the evening, but a glimmer of light was present within its gypsy-themed interior. The silk on the walls whispered from an unknown breeze and the smell of Frankincense wafted enticingly through the air. Madame Lou had received advanced notice of a pending spirit contact—something quite unusual in itself, especially in the manner it had arrived. Her cousin, Madame Francesca, who lived in New York City, had sent her a letter, of all things. What good was their spiritualist ability if they had to resort to using the postal system to communicate? Of course, the letter had been addressed to Cassiopeia Blakemore, Madame Lou’s Christian name, since Fran thought Cassie was silly to use a stage name. But for Cassie, it was important to keep her ladies employment agency and her medium activities separate. Especially since during the last year, that handsome Lord Suffolk had been sniffing around both the tea shop and Cassie when she was being Miss Blakemore. She still wasn’t sure what he wanted from either of her personas.

  Reading the letter again, Cassie had to admit that she was impressed with her cousin’s psychic gifts. It seemed that one of her clients needed their combined help. This young woman had been at death’s door, which meant that Madame Francesca had helped ease her way into the next world by telling her fortune. But now that the lady’s spirit had entered the nether realm, Madame Lou would need to step in and take over. But the essence that had been Clara Bradley remained silent.

  The cards had been reverently pulled from their antique wood box, unwrapped from great, great, great-grandma Blakemore’s old black silk shawl, and delicately mixed and shuffled. But they refused to be read without the presence of at least one of the interested parties.

  Cassie sighed, and called out again for Clara to join her, but the spirit was not ready to discuss the matter of her husband’s future happiness. Not that she blamed Mrs. Bradley. After all, it couldn’t be an easy thing to help your loved one in life find love again after your own untimely death.

  Adeline gazed around the first-class dining room, watching for Jack to make his entrance. She hoped he hadn’t decided to stay in his room moping, as he’d been prone to do since Clara’s passing.

  “You seem distracted, daughter,” Papa said as they sat at the lavishly sumptuous table, all aglitter with crystal, silver, gold plating on white china, and decorations of flowers and ice sculptures.

  “Just worried about Jackson,” she said sipping the champagne the waiter poured freely, while nibbling on the various hors d’oeuvres. “He seemed different today on deck, almost like the Jackson we knew before Clara got sick.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?” Simon asked. “I thought you wanted him to come back to the world.”

  “Well yes, but…” Adeline stopped herself before confessing that she’d wanted to be the one he’d first smiled at and laughed with, not Lady Huntingdon.

  “There he is, and I think I recognize Henrietta with him. Look at that; he is transformed, isn’t he?” Simon stood as the countess and Jack approached. He even allowed Lady Huntingdon to kiss him on the cheek as he pulled out her chair for her to sit down. “Jackson, I say you look a might more cheerful than I’ve seen you in months.”

  “Thank you, Simon,” Jack said acknowledging both of the Jameses. “I think I just needed a change of scenery. I was even thinking I might want to open up that London office my partner and I had been considering recently.”

  “You are planning on staying in London?” Adeline asked trying to hide her surprise. She hadn’t expected the possibility that she might actually run into Jack after she had married her
titled gentleman.

  “I’m considering it.” Jackson leaned back as the waiters began serving dinner. “I have no reason to go back to New York. Jeffrey can run the American offices without me and I can expand the business in Europe.”

  The thought made Adeline decidedly uncomfortable. It was one thing to be married to a man she probably was not going to be in love with, but it was quite another matter altogether to have Jack around to observe her in such a situation. If it was anyone other than Jackson Bradley, it might not bother her so much, but since she had always thought of him as the one man she could never have but who was everything she had ever hoped the man she did marry would embody—well—she didn’t want to have to think about it. It was unnerving to imagine having to face Jack once her wedding night was over, especially after what she had witnessed all those years ago.

  Images from the past flashed in Adeline’s mind and she tried to think of anything else. But once she let loose that particular memory, there was very little she could do to stop it.

  She’d been barely eighteen and Papa was on one of his long trips. Clara had seen how lonely Addie was and invited the girl to stay with her and Jack. Adeline had just discovered the book written by Mrs. Van Vorst, The Woman Who Toils, which described how she had disguised herself as a factory worker and investigated the plight of girls and women who labor for a meager living. It had been a pivotal moment for Adeline as she suddenly realized in that instant that she wanted to help in the reform movement.

  Even though it had been the middle of the night, Adeline was so excited that she couldn’t help herself, so she went running through the Bradley mansion to tell Clara about what she had decided. Not wanting to scare her friend by waking her too suddenly so late at night, Adeline had entered Clara’s bedroom quietly. But her friend wasn’t asleep nor was she alone. Instead, Addie found herself observing one of the most intimate moments imaginable between a husband and wife. She froze in her steps and held her breath as she saw Jackson looming above Clara, both completely naked. Their bodies were slick with sweat, gleaming in the moonlight that streamed in through a window. Hidden in the shadows, neither of the Bradleys saw Adeline standing there, transfixed by what she was observing. Jack was touching Clara’s breasts and kissing her while moving over her body in a rhythm that sent foreign tremors through Adeline’s own body. She watched as Jack pressed himself into Clara’s flesh over and over and over again until the muscles in his back flexed and he cried out, finally collapsing into the sheets.