by Nikki Poppen
I want to kiss you, and I shouldn’t. Gannon answered Audrey’s well-timed question silently in his head. Thank goodness for the intervention. A few seconds more and he would have acted on his impulse to sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless, an impulse he’d been fighting since he’d walked into the sitting room and seen her serenely reading in the window seat, sun filtering through the panes and catching her hair so that she appeared to him as a chocolate-haired angel.
Gannon stepped back, schooling his features into impassivity. A kiss would be anathema to her. Audrey had been very clear about that. A kiss might very well drive her away, and he needed her too much for Camberly’s sake to risk creating a divide between them. Yet he couldn’t believe she was entirely indifferent, regardless of her plan. Even now, when she was exerting a conscious effort to resist him, her eyes told a different story as they searched his face with stunned recognition of what they’d fleetingly seen there. Perhaps later, when she had the objectivity of distance between then and now, she’d forget what she’d seen or convince herself she was mistaken. He hoped so.
“Are the roses nearby?” Gannon asked in a neutral tone. “I want to be able to give your mother a full report” He pulled out his pocket watch and made a show of studying it. “Then I must be going. I’ll want to arrange for funds for the railroad venture.”
“They’re over here” Audrey gestured to a side path that led to a tall, white, arched arbor. Roses climbed up the arbor’s trellised sides and grew along the path in well-tended bushes. Bees buzzed happily, ignorant of the pair’s approach.
The roses were lovely, well worth the visit, but Gannon watched Audrey bend toward a rich red bloom and immediately understood why Violet St. Clair had insisted on Audrey’s showing off the flowers. In her pale pink afternoon gown, Audrey was the perfect complement to the lush, dark crimson roses. A painter could ask for no better setting.
Gannon thought of the herb garden at Camberly, with its mixture of soft scents-lavender and rosemary, mixed with thyme and basil. His mind’s eye placed Audrey at Camberly, a long basket on her arm while she gathered herbs and flowers in his gardens. Gannon shook himself. Such thoughts were not helpful. In fact, they were quite detrimental.
“Thinking of home?” Audrey straightened and steered them toward the house, remarking on his silence.
“Thinking of your mother,” Gannon responded. “I imagine if you were wearing blue, we’d be looking at the lilacs or the bluebells against the wall.”
Audrey shrugged. “I won’t apologize for her, and I won’t say you’re wrong.”
Gannon shot her a sidelong look, struck by a moment’s intuition. “Is that what you want with your freedom? A chance to escape all this?”
“You’re very perceptive, Gannon Maddox,” Audrey said quietly. “I don’t want to be forty-two and have nothing more to look forward to than arranging my daughter’s wedding. There should be more than that, don’t you think?” Audrey sighed heavily and shook her head. “But there isn’t,” she said, answering her own question. “All around me, there’s nothing but women who waited to come out, had a year or two of socializing, then married, established households, and spent their lives trying to marry off their children to one another in spite of all the competition to outdo each other.” Audrey sighed heavily. “There’s a new world out there. It doesn’t have to be that way. Not for me at least”
There was desperation in her voice, not disgust, Gannon noted. She might have said more, but Wilson St. Clair appeared from the house and waved to them with a loud “Halloo! Camberly, I hear you’ve come to talk business.”
“Duty calls,” Gannon said in a low voice to Audrey. “May I see you tomorrow?”
Audrey nodded. “But it will only be for a few minutes. We’re going to the Casino to do some shopping in the morning. You can see me then”
Wilson St. Clair was eager to see him and discuss the railroad. Gannon found himself swept into St. Clair’s study while Audrey was left to her own devices.
Within moments, Gannon was ensconced in a deepseated leather chair across from Wilson St. Clair’s massive desk, an expensive brandy in a heavy, cut-glass tumbler in his hand. Gannon tried to pay attention to all the information St. Clair was imparting about stock dividends, but his mind kept returning to his conversation with Audrey. Now he had an idea why she wanted her freedom. But what did she think she would do with it? Had she thought beyond the immediate goal? Did she recognize how difficult it would be to live with that freedom? The choices she’d have to make?
Gannon knew. He had a few female acquaintances in London who owned their own homes and held political salons. They were widows who’d elected not to marry again. But even with one marriage behind them, society continued to look askance at them for being plainspoken and single. Still, it did occur to him that married English women had more freedom than married American women, especially when they had the right husband.
“He’s the right husband for you, Audrey,” Violet St. Clair announced over dinner that night, an hour after Gannon had departed from her father’s study.
Audrey stopped eating, her fork in midair. “Who’s the right husband?” she asked in shock. This was the kind of talk she’d wanted to avoid all summer. What had she missed while she was lining up railroad connections for Gannon?
Her mother gave her a placating smile like the kind given to little children who needed to have something repeated to them. “The earl. Camberly, of course.”
Audrey breathed easier. “We’ve hardly had time to get to know him.” This was part of the plan. This was good.
“He’s all but invited her to his home, Wilson,” Violet went on, ignoring Audrey entirely as she recounted Gannon’s visit. “He brought a picture book of his estate to show her,” Violet said meaningfully. “We’ll need to look ahead and start thinking about booking passage to England”
Wilson nodded. “I’m setting him up with a fortune to be gleaned from this Hudson River Line deal. I can’t have my girl marrying a poor noble. If he lacks funds, I won’t have anyone knowing it. No one will say my girl was married for her money” He beamed proudly.
Her father’s pronouncement got her attention. This was bad. She’d expected her mother to react with en thusiasm, but she’d not expected the same zeal from her father. She’d counted on her father’s providing some resistance, putting up obstacles that would take time-ideally, the whole summer-to overcome if at all. Mutual capitulation was not a good sign. Maybe she could have Gannon acquire an annoying habit or a nervous tic.
“I think it’s all a bit precipitous,” Audrey said firmly, taking a swallow of her wine to hide her anxiety. “We need to know more about him.”
Violet smiled again. “You’re absolutely right, my dear. We have all summer to get to know him better, but so does everyone else. I wouldn’t want to see him get distracted.”
Wilson jumped in, waving his fork excitedly. “It’s all supply and demand, Audrey. Here, there’s only the one earl to go around. We can’t play too loosely with his attentions. It’s not like being in England, where’s there’s more on hand to pick from. Just today, I was explaining supply and demand to..
Audrey hid a smile. Her father would be off on that tangent for at least half an hour. Economics was his favorite topic, just as marriage was her mother’s. Put the two of those subjects together, and they’d have one heck of a conversation-a conversation they didn’t need her for, which was just as well.
She had a lot on her mind. On one level, the plan was going well. Gannon was poised to make his first successful investment with her father. Her parents were both distracted from suitor-hunting by the attentions Gannon was paying her. He’d definitely planted the right seeds in her mother’s mind as to the seriousness of his intentions. Meanwhile, she had to assure herself and Gannon that it was all a game. His intentions were a facade, and they had to remain that way, as did her responses.
The near slipup today in the garden could have been disastrous. It p
roved that the attraction between them could definitely be from a source other than their mutual need to preserve their marriage-free status. When she saw him at the Casino tomorrow, she’d have to tell him to ease up on the ardent courtship. Thanks to her mother’s comments, she had an idea how to do that.
Gannon was waiting for her inside the main courtyard. He was dressed in tennis whites and talking avidly with Lionel Carrington when her group arrived. Gannon’s appearance could hardly appear less contrived. The racquet in his hand made it obvious he was there to play tennis. Audrey’s mother would suspect nothing, yet she missed nothing. Violet immediately noted Gannon’s presence and steered the little group across the immaculate lawns of the Horseshoe Piazza to greet him.
Gannon was all manners, exchanging polite conversation with her mother and the other women with her. Yes, he’d played a little tennis in England. Yes, he’d be at the Lewis ball that evening.
It wasn’t good form to linger overlong with small talk, and Audrey’s mother saw to it that the conversation was done before more than five minutes passed. “We don’t wish to keep you gentlemen from the courts, so we shall be off. Audrey has a fitting at Worth’s for her gown for Caroline’s Summer Ball.”
“We don’t have a court reservation until eleven-thirty,” Gannon said smoothly. “Perhaps I could walk with Audrey over to Worth’s? I have yet to see the famed heart of Newport fashion.”
Her mother couldn’t resist the chance to show off Audrey on the arm of the handsome earl to all her friends and anyone else they passed.
“Do you read everyone like a book?” Audrey asked as she and Gannon made the most of walking ahead of the group.
Gannon chuckled. “It gets easier to do over time. It’s not hard to figure out what most people want and then give it to them”
“We don’t have much time, so I’ll be brief,” Audrey said, casting a furtive glance behind her. “I need you to pay attention to other girls.”
Gannon shot her a confused look. “Why? I thought the plan was to be your suitor.”
“It is, but it looks too easy, too pat. We’ll never be able to drag it out all summer if there isn’t a little drama,” Audrey insisted.
“Ah, I see exactly what you mean. So, I am to dance and flirt with the other girls for a bit, perhaps even settle some attentions on one or two of them, in order to keep Newport guessing as to where my attentions are fixed?”
“Exactly. Two weeks should be enough,” Audrey said, feeling quite pleased with her efforts to circumvent her mother’s well-laid plans.
Unfortunately, it was much easier to prescribe the needed remedy than it was to take one’s medicine, Audrey soon realized. She valiantly hid a grimace that night at the Lewis ball while she watched Gannon sweep a pretty cousin of their host around the ballroom with his customary grace. Audrey uncharitably wished the girl would step on his toes, selfishly wanting Gannon to only dance that well with her. But it looked as if he danced divinely no matter whom he partnered. By the ninth dance, her mother had noticed too.
“You’re losing him, Audrey” Violet St. Clair flipped open her hand-painted fan with practiced grace at Audrey’s side. “He left your side after the first dance and hasn’t been back since.” She gave a disdainful sniff. “You’re managing him poorly”
“He’s not a child or a dog to be `managed,’ ” Audrey shot back in a quiet voice of steel. “He’s a man who is free to come and go as he pleases”
Violet turned to stare at Audrey. “Then may it please him to do more coming than going where you’re concerned. He is a spectacular catch. Give him a reason to stay”
Audrey’s temper escalated. “He’s a poor man, Mother. Like other Englishmen, he has debts and mortgages that have to be paid. Since when has debt defined spectacular?”
“Since that debt came attached to a title.” Violet wasn’t the least intimidated by Audrey’s burst of temper. Instead, she met it with equal steel, which made Audrey all the angrier. “You’re a fool not to see the possibilities, Audrey.”
Audrey was starting to think her mother was right, at least about the “fool” part. It had only been one night, and already she was regretting her plan. How would she ever last the agreed-upon two weeks?
Two weeks of balls and picnics had passed in agonizing slowness for Gannon, filled as they were with an endless parade of uninteresting girls and not nearly enough of Audrey St. Clair. In fact, the absence of Audrey from his circle of acquaintances was precisely the reason that breakfast at Rose Bluff was a stilted affair following the weekly Casino ball. Gannon tried to ignore the tension at the breakfast table by focusing on one of the New York papers that had been placed by his plate. He shot covert looks at Lionel and Stella. Had they fought? He had no idea of knowing what had caused this shift in the usually comfortable atmosphere. But then, the last week and a half had been nothing but a miserable blur of parties and balls.
He’d danced with so many girls, after a while they all looked the same in their pink and white dresses. Goodness knew, their small talk didn’t set them apart.
He missed Audrey, even though he hadn’t been entirely absent from her side during their planned hiatus. He’d danced once a night with her, making it clear to society that he had not shunned her company. He made a point to have regular conversations at the Reading Room and at Bailey’s Beach with her father to keep the business connection strong. But it wasn’t enough. It was plain to him that there was no one in Newport he wanted to spend time with beyond Audrey. He was eager to reclaim his position at her side.
Gannon wondered if she felt the same. He’d seen her dancing and chatting animatedly with several young men who were no doubt richer than he was. Did she miss him too? He turned the page of the paper, belatedly realizing he hadn’t read anything on the prior sheet.
Stella set her coffee cup down in its saucer with a sharp clank that drew Gannon’s attention. He peered over the rim of his newspaper. “Is everything all right?” He hesitated, sending an inquiring plea in Lionel’s direction, but Lionel seemed as uninformed as he was as to the source of Stella’s pique.
“No, everything is not all right, Camberly,” Stella said sharply. “You had the St. Clair chit dangling after you practically since your arrival, and you’ve hardly looked in her direction these past two weeks. I’ve tried to hold my tongue, but after last night, I must speak out. Only one dance, and you didn’t offer to take her into supper!”
Gannon set down his paper. “You’re angry because I didn’t spend enough time with Miss St. Clair? Weren’t you the one who told me not to make it easy on her?” He turned to Lionel. “What’s that American phrase you like to use? `Hard to get’?”
Stella rolled her eyes. “Yes, Gannon, play hard to get, not impossible to get. Your credibility will take a tumble once Wilson St. Clair runs a background check on you and discovers what a shambles your finances are in. You need to be entrenched with the St. Clairs before that happens. If he likes you enough, he won’t let his wife spread the gossip all over the town. Impoverished nobles don’t get picnics thrown in their honor by Caroline Astor.”
“I’ve never pretended to be rich,” Gannon said quietly.
Stella threw her napkin onto the table in a huff. “You had a plan, and your plan was succeeding admirably. Then, last night, you turned your back on it. You could have proposed, married, and been on a ship back to England at the beginning of fall with all your worries solved, but you ignored Audrey St. Clair. That’s three weeks of work gone to waste”
“My apologies,” Gannon said for lack of anything else to say in the wake of Stella’s scolding. On the surface, she was right. But Gannon couldn’t tell her what was really going on. The thought of weathering a few more days of Stella’s discontent and Audrey’s absence was daunting. He needed a break from Newport. He’d prefer spending the last days of Audrey’s plan in absentia.
“Lionel, when you leave for New York this evening, I’d like to join you. I have some business I need to see to before
I speak with Wilson St. Clair again.” Gannon was careful not to say more about that business, although it made him feel quite awkward not to be able to discuss the Hudson River Line deal with a close friend. It was quite disconcerting to know he had too much riding on the investment to risk telling Lionel.
Gannon’s breakfast table wasn’t the only tense dining experience taking place up and down Bellevue Avenue that morning. In some houses, where daughters had been singled out for the earl’s attention the night before, mothers plotted their next moves to take advantage of the situation. At Audrey’s, the tension didn’t reach them until noon, everyone having risen late due to the long night. An envelope was waiting on a silver salver next to her plate.
She reached for it and pulled out the short note. She glanced at the signature at the bottom first. “It’s from Camberly,” she informed the table, knowing her parents wouldn’t stop staring at her until she told them. “He says he’s going to New York with Mr. Carrington to see about transferring funds for Father’s railroad deal. He’ll call on us all when he returns.” Audrey looked triumphantly at her mother. “See? The war is not lost. Camberly has not deserted us”
She could kiss Gannon for his cleverness and forethought. Well, perhaps kissing him wasn’t a good idea. But the sentiment was right. She never would have calmed her mother down if Gannon had left for a few days without letting them know. Her mother would have taken it as a sign of clear desertion.
“Of course Camberly hasn’t deserted us,” Wilson St. Clair said, waving his fork in the air. “If he doesn’t do right by our Audrey, I’ll destroy him financially. He’ll live to regret his railroad investment.” He gave Audrey a doting smile. “If he’s the one you want, he’s the one you’ll have”