He raised up on one elbow to gaze down at her, murmuring, “Lovely…so lovely.” His lips found hers once more, while his hand traveled downward in a teasing descent. He caressed the slimness of her waist, the swell of her hip, and the flatness of her belly. Instinctively, her hips arched against him as fire licked at her veins in familiar, uninhibited response.
“Take me,” she begged shamelessly, nails raking the hard flesh of his back as she urged him onward. “Take me, Colt, please—”
He moved to mount her as the moon dared to slip from behind cover to cast an ethereal glow upon their naked, perspiration-slick bodies. “I’ve loved you before,” he huskily proclaimed once more. “I don’t know where or when, but I’ve known this joy before…but never since.”
He entered her, and Jade moaned with delight at the deliciously fierce assault. Time reverted, and there’d been no ’twixt and ’tween those wondrous falling-in-love days they’d known in Russia, France, and the honeymoon splendor spent cruising the seas on the Imperial yacht. This was heaven, this was now, and Jade prayed the moment would never end.
Together they left the world, soaring into the realm of ecstasy. When they finally drifted their way back to earth, Jade knew this was where she belonged…but was suddenly and painfully aware she had no right to remain. The visit to paradise was an illusion—she could not take up permanent residence…did not have the right. This was all they could ever have, and it was this reality that brought tears to her eyes.
Colt held her tenderly against him as he urged, “Tell me who you are. Tell me when, where, we loved before.”
“You tell me something, Colt. Tell me all about your marriage, how you came to marry Lorena Vordane.”
His sigh was one of deep vexation, and he rolled away from her to lie on his back and stare pensively into the night. “What can I tell you? I know only what I’ve been told—that we met in Paris, where I was visiting my family. We fell madly in love. We got married. Then, when we were coming here, on our honeymoon, there was a bad storm at sea. I fell. Something struck my head. I don’t remember anything,” he finished miserably.
Anxiously Jade wanted to know, “What do your doctors say—about the possibility of you getting your memory back?”
He gave a helpless shrug. “Oh, they don’t know much about this kind of thing. Maybe I never will, and then maybe I’ll wake up one morning and remember everything. Who knows?” He rolled over onto his side to place his arm across her waist and gaze down at her lovingly.
“I’d reached the point I didn’t care. I mean, I do have a son, and since he was born, he gives me some reason for living. Lorena and I—well, to be honest with you, I can’t figure out why I would ever love someone like her. She’s sweet, kind, and she’d make somebody else a wonderful wife—but not me. The feelings just aren’t there. Anyway, as I said, I’d reached the point I didn’t care. I accepted my life for what it was.”
His smile in the faint moonlight was bittersweet. “But then I saw you, and everything turned upside down. I was driven, like a man gone mad, to find out who you were, and even though I still don’t know that, I know I did love you before, and now I’ve got to know how I could have ever let you go. And how did I wind up married to Lorena? How did I get from there to here? You can tell me, Jade, please…” He searched her face in desperation for some kind of answer to his torment.
She closed her eyes, struggling for the wisdom to say the right things, but so many other thoughts were crowding her mind—such as why did Lorena tell him they had been married in Paris? And what was behind her scheme to trick him? When Jade had talked with her on the ship, she’d claimed to be madly in love with the young man her mother had made her leave. And hadn’t Bryan said he thought they’d married after arriving in New York? Just what, exactly, did the Pinkerton report say? She recalled with annoyance that he’d snatched it from her hand, wouldn’t let her read it herself. Why? What was he hiding? And what was Lorena hiding?
Jade asked another question. “Your family in France. What do you hear from them?”
He was puzzled by her inquiry. “Did you know them? Is that where we knew each other before? Paris? You have a slight accent, but I don’t distinguish it as being French. A mixture…”
“Russian and Irish.” She saw no harm in telling him that much, then suddenly decided she didn’t have to tell him the whole story, just enough to soothe his desperation. “We were lovers in Europe, Colt. We knew each other there. A long time ago. I met your family.”
He grinned, relieved. “Then I’m not losing my mind. I did know you before, but why—”
“Your family,” she prodded again, wanting to skirt the other subject. “What do you hear from them?”
“Lorena takes care of all the correspondence with them, and she says they’re fine.” He went on to explain lest she think him uncaring where his family was concerned. “You see, reading and writing seem to provoke my headaches, so I let her handle all that.”
How convenient! Jade thought.
Suddenly Jade sat up straight as yet another question assailed her. Were Colt and Lorena really married…or had Lorena just told him they were? Had there even been a ceremony? If so, why the lie about Paris—because the wedding damn well could not have taken place there! So many, many unanswered questions!
Colt sensed her sudden anxiety. “What’s wrong? What are you thinking?”
Jade knew she had to be very, very careful now. She did not want to answer any of his questions, or ask any more of her own, until she saw that Pinkerton report for herself.
Finally she told him it had all been a shock, seeing him again, that she wanted time to think things over. “After all, we’re married to other people now, Colt. What we’re doing is dangerous.”
He reached out and pulled her down beside him once more, raining kisses over her face, her throat, her breasts, her belly, as he feverishly, fervently avowed, “I don’t know why I let you go. I had to have been the world’s biggest fool, but I tell you one thing, my love…if this is all we can have, then so be it, because I won’t lose you again…whoever you are.”
He took her home so late that all the servants were asleep, and the next morning Jade excitedly rode her horse out early to meet him in the woods. They had agreed that no one could know they were seeing each other. Their relationship had to be kept secret at all costs. Jade further confessed she did love him but would not discuss the future. Dear Lord, how could she worry about the future when she couldn’t understand the present?
They were together all day, and that night Jade waited till the servants slept, then sneaked outside to where he waited on his horse. She rode behind him to their secret bluff overlooking the river. There, lying on a blanket he’d brought, they made love eagerly, as though they could not get enough of each other.
Then, when exhausted, they spent the rest of the time trying to fit the pieces of Colt’s past together with Jade’s.
He told her the first memory he had was of waking up in a hospital in New York. “They tell me I was laid up for a long time—a couple of months. Blinding headaches. Dizzy spells. All I knew was that I was married. Lorena was a complete stranger, but I was aware she was always there, beside my bed, during the times I’d come and go from consciousness to the black pit where I seemed to want to stay. Then I started staying awake longer and longer, and one day they said I could leave the hospital. By then Lorena knew she was going to have a baby, and I guess she got that way on the ship. Anyway, I don’t remember that, either. In fact…” He paused to laugh with a touch of bitterness. “I can’t remember ever making love to her.”
“But now?” Jade dared to ask. “Since the baby—?”
“She moved into the nursery when I came home from the hospital,” he told her, “and she’s stayed there since after Andy was born.”
“Andy?”
Pride was evident as he declared, “Andrew Matthew, after her grandfather. Lorena adored him. The estate up here was built by him, but it belongs
to Mrs. Vordane now, like everything else,” he added grimly.
“So!” she teased, happy with what Colt had told her. “Now we know the reason you claim to have been so drawn to me. Your wife closed her door, so you were just looking for any woman to satisfy your male urges, weren’t you?”
He did not laugh, did not find her teasing humorous. He put his arms around her and pulled her so close against him she could hear the fierce pounding of his heart as he vehemently cried, “That’s not true, dammit, and you know it. You know things you aren’t telling me, Jade. You and I loved once, and we loved hard, and we loved strong, and something terrible tore us apart. You know what that something was, and by God, sooner or later you’re going to tell me.’’
He was holding her so tightly she had to struggle against him to breathe, and, shaken by his ferocity, his nearness, she feebly affirmed, “Yes, one day I will, but not now. There are things I’ve got to do first…before I have that right.”
“Then do them,” he said, almost savagely, “but for now, show me how you once loved me…”
Chapter Thirty
Jade found herself in the first painful quandary of her life. Colt begged her to tell him the truth; she could not. He said they had to find a way to be together forever, but how could they when there were so many hearts, so many lives involved? Bryan had never harmed her or hurt her, only loved her. Colt could not say Lorena had ever been cruel. And what about his child? So could they just walk away from people who loved them to selfishly be together? They could not, at this point, say yes; they also knew, beyond a doubt, that they could not turn from each other.
When she returned to New York, body and lips warm with the memory of Colt’s caresses and kisses, Jade felt no guilt or sense of betrayal—only sadness…sadness to contemplate the maelstrom that each of their lives had become. The true torment came from wondering why it had all come to pass…and, by God, she intended to find out.
Bryan was not home when she arrived on that Wednesday, and Lita arrogantly told her he had gone to Philadelphia on business and wouldn’t be back until the weekend. It seemed to please her to be able to say, “He wasn’t at all happy that you didn’t come back after the weekend, deciding to stay a few extra days, and he also didn’t like your not taking me with you.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” Jade murmured, moving on to leaf through the stack of invitations that had arrived during her absence. “How did things go at the studio?”
To Jade’s delight, Lita told her fourteen students had registered at the school during her absence—four adult couples for the waltz, and the rest were interested in ballet, which she was happiest to hear.
Thursday morning, Jade rose early and left the house before anyone else was up and about so as to reach Bryan’s office before Miss Pearson arrived, and have a chance to look for the Pinkerton file. It was easy to let herself in, having found his keys in his bureau drawer. The building was quiet, deserted, and she speculated she had at least an hour to prowl about before anyone would arrive.
Bryan’s private office was as neat and orderly as he was. There were no papers on his desk, so she turned first to his file cabinets. Leafing through those, she found nothing but business records. Then she went to his desk and began to rummage through the drawers, careful to put everything back as it was so he wouldn’t know anyone had been through his things.
Still she found nothing.
A glance at the giltwood cartel clock on the wall warned time was running out—it was nearly nine, and Miss Pearson would be coming in at any minute.
She was about to leave when her eye fell on the large painting on the wall behind Bryan’s desk. Of course! She rushed toward it, remembering the safe there. He had opened it one day, taken out money to give to her because the banks were closed.
She slid the painting to one side; her heart leaped at the sight of the round metal door, but sank once more when a quick yank on the handle told her it was locked. A combination, too, and she had no idea where it would be written. Damn, damn, damn, she cursed under her breath. The file was nowhere else to be found. It had to be in the safe!
Just then she heard a sound from the outer office. She turned and through the frosted pane of Bryan’s door she could see the shadow of someone entering. Miss Pearson. Jade froze. What possible excuse could she use for being in Bryan’s office at such an early hour?
Then, miraculously, Jade offered a silent prayer of thanksgiving to her guardian angel for blessing her with a quickly fabricated alibi. Hoping her expression looked properly agitated, she walked straight to the door, flung it open, and, to Miss Pearson’s wide, surprised eyes, breathlessly announced, “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here. Honestly, Bryan can leave at the most inconvenient times!”
Miss Pearson was at once solicitous. “Oh, what’s wrong, Mrs. Stevens? What can I do?”
Jade anxiously waved her into Bryan’s office, feigning exasperation as she lied, “There’s an important paper connected with my studio that I can’t seem to find, and I’ve turned the house upside down. The only place it can be is in the safe, and I’ve forgotten the combination, and I can’t wait till he gets back.” She gave a helpless shrug. “I just hope you know it.”
“Oh, of course!”
It had worked.
When the safe door was opened, Miss Pearson stepped back but made no move to leave Jade alone, and Jade had no intention of looking for the file in front of her. Airily, she motioned her to the door, said, “Thank you, thank you, but run along, dear. This is a personal matter…”
She let her voice trail off pointedly.
Bryan’s secretary took the hint. “Oh, of course. Just take your time. I’ll be outside if you need me.”
“Oh, Miss Pearson,” Jade called shortly.
She turned expectantly.
Conspiringly, Jade grinned. “Let’s keep this between us girls, all right? I don’t want Bryan knowing what a featherhead I am. Might make him feel indispensable, you know.”
Miss Pearson laughed knowingly. “Of course. I understand, and I won’t say a word. I may not be married, but I know how men are,” she added in camaraderie.
Alone, hands trembling, Jade began to search through the papers in the safe. There were stock certificates, deeds to property, the usual business things.
Then, in the very back, she found what she was looking for—a brown envelope scrawled with a single name that screamed out at her: COLTRANE.
Feverishly, she withdrew it. Her knees began to buckle with the immensity of the moment, and she backed toward Bryan’s chair, eased herself down, breath coming in slow, even gasps. It was sealed, but that made no difference. Picking up a silver letter opener from the desk, she slit the envelope across the top, then took out the folded papers inside.
She began to read, and slowly, like the creeping, crawling legs of a giant spider, a web of fury descended. Bryan had known everything!
John Travis Coltrane, read the Pinkerton report, reportedly married to one Lorena Kathleen Vordane in Paris, France, August, 1893.
Jade pressed her fingertips to her throbbing temples as she stared down at the papers. “I don’t believe it,” she hoarsely whispered. “I just don’t believe it. Why? Dear God, why?”
She read on, eyes widening ever more. The Pinkerton detectives had reported that Colt had been injured on board the ship, though they had been unable to ascertain the details of the accident. Checking hospital records, they found that when the ship had docked in New York, Colt had immediately been taken by ambulance to a private hospital where he had remained for approximately two months. During that time he had regained consciousness, but confidential interviews with one of his doctors revealed the diagnosis of amnesia due to a severe blow on the head. He was finally discharged to the care of his “wife”, and his prognosis was listed as “Unknown at this time”, which meant, Jade knew, that the doctors would not speculate as to whether Colt would ever regain his memory.
She clenched her fists and pounded the desk
top, hot tears of rage stinging her eyes.
Bryan had known!
She had no doubt as to why he’d kept the information from her; he knew that if she learned the truth, she would not have married him, and she wouldn’t have, by God. She’d had moved heaven and hell to reclaim her husband! No matter that Bryan’s motive was his love for her. She realized now that all along she’d never made any decisions in their relationship based on her love for him; it was always her awareness of how much he loved her. In the wake of discovering how deceitful he’d been, it was hard to remember ever loving Bryan in any way.
No matter what the future held with Colt, one thing was clear: it was the beginning of the end of her marriage to Bryan.
With rage ringing in her ears, Jade made her way past Miss Pearson and out of the building, the file clutched in her hand. Over on the street, she quickly decided to go to the private hospital mentioned in the report and speak with one of Colt’s doctors.
She arrived at the hospital just before noon. It was situated at the top of a knoll—a stone and wood building of Tudor design. The driveway was lined with meticulously sculptured evergreens, and the entire area was surrounded by a high stone wall. The front gate, of ornate wrought iron, was closed, and a bored-looking guard sat in a little cubicle to one side.
He did not return her greetings of a good afternoon, but instead crisply informed her, “Visiting hours aren’t till two, madam.”
She presented her most beguiling smile. “Oh, I’m not here to visit a patient. I’m only in town for the day, and it’s very important that I speak with one of the doctors.”
He regarded her skeptically. “Which doctor?”
She randomly named one of the three from the report. “Dr. Compton. Dr. Iredell Compton.”
Love and Dreams: The Coltrane Saga, Book 6 Page 29
