Newport Summer

by Nikki Poppen

  “A good sign,” Audrey echoed.

  He took the ring from the box and slipped it onto her hand. By luck, it fit perfectly. “A good sign.” He smiled at her.

  Was there uncertainty in her eyes in spite of her acceptance? Gannon wanted to pretend he didn’t see the fleeting doubt in her blue eyes, but his conscience wouldn’t allow it. “Are you sure, Audrey?”

  She met his gaze evenly. “Yes. This is all so sudden. It will take me some time to get used to the change in plans” He knew by “change of plans” that she meant the giving up of Vienna.

  Gannon covered her hand with his. “I promise you, I’ll make you happy,” he said solemnly. He meant every word of it. Whatever misgivings she had about her decision to marry him, he would overcome every last one of them.

  She squeezed his hand. “I am counting on it.”

  The date was set. October 4 at Grace Church in New York, with the officious Archbishop Potter scheduled to preside. Violet claimed it would give them slightly over a month upon their return to New York to settle the last details. The Newport Season had only a short three weeks to go until it was officially closed down by the Fishes’ Harvest Ball at Crossways.

  Violet was determined to make those three weeks into a romantic whirlwind engagement, starting with a grand announcement at Caroline Astor’s Summer Ball, the highlight of the Season, occurring just two weeks after the midpoint of the summer.

  Gannon would have preferred to keep the engagement quiet. He would have preferred, out of deference to Audrey, to not formally announce it. But, having snagged for her daughter the most eligible bachelor in Newport, Violet St. Clair would not be swayed.

  Caroline Astor was thrilled that her ball would be the backdrop for the announcement of her dear friend’s daughter’s most successful engagement. She stopped at nothing to see Beechwood turned out in splendid elegance. Expensive American Beauty roses filled the Roman punch centerpiece on the refreshment table, where the best of the Astor china and silver hosted the elaborate finger foods served that evening.

  What could only be described vulgarly as gallons of Champagne were on hand for the supper toast. At each supper table, guests found exquisite party favors to commemorate the occasion: elegant, painted fans from Paris with the occasion and date carefully engraved in tiny letters on the ivory handle; for the men, small silver flasks topped with a jeweled stopper, the occasion etched tastefully on one side in a silver flourish.

  Gannon, Audrey, and her parents stood with Caroline Astor in the receiving line to greet the guests. Beside him, Audrey was pale and lovely in a new Worth gown of palest ocean blue trimmed in a thousand hand-sewn seed pearls to show off the deeper hues of the sapphire ring.

  It had been a week since she’d accepted his proposal. The week had been filled with the business of marriage. Although Gannon was no stranger to the nature of marriages involving a peer of the realm, he’d never been quite so intimately involved in the many details of acquiring a bride. Wilson St. Clair had kept him occupied with the negotiations and contracts attaching to marrying a modern American heiress.

  In the end, despite Gannon’s protests, Wilson St. Clair conferred on the couple the princely sum of 1.5 million dollars in railroad stock with a guaranteed yield of five percent, or roughly 20,000 pounds sterling a year. In addition, there was an initial settlement of 500,000 American dollars. That didn’t count the money St. Clair put aside for Audrey’s personal use and the trust fund for the heirs. For a man who’d been pinching pence for several years, the sums were mind-boggling.

  When Gannon said as much, St. Clair dismissed the largesse with a wave of his hand. “It is in accord with the current expectation. Besides, Violet says the settlement when Consuelo Vanderbilt marries Marlborough will make this one look like pennies.”

  Gannon stifled a laugh in the receiving line, reflecting on the conversation. The poor duke hadn’t even bought a ticket to America yet, and his future was already sealed.

  Audrey elbowed him. “What are you smiling at?”

  “I recalled something your father said.”

  “I am sure my father is much more amusing than my mother,” she said drolly between passing guests.

  “I don’t know about `amusing,’ but he’s certainly as persistent,” Gannon said quietly so as not to be overheard.

  “I find that hard to believe.” Audrey rolled her eyes, and Gannon laughed. “It’s not funny. You didn’t spend the week looking at swatches of white fabric. What does it matter? I can’t tell the difference between a color called `snow’ and another called `blancmange.’ That’s not counting all the variations of ecru and pearl. Truly, it’s no laughing matter.”

  It wasn’t, not if the hints of shadows under Audrey’s eyes were evidence of the strain. Gannon reached for her hand and squeezed it in the folds of her silken skirts. “If it’s any consolation, you look beautiful.”

  The last guest passed them with greetings, and their first duty of the evening was discharged. One benefit of being engaged was that he could keep Audrey at his side all evening. Gannon thrilled to the feel of her hand on his arm and the knowledge that it would always be there.

  The orchestra struck up an opening waltz in deference to the English tradition of letting the engaged couple lead out the first dance as a waltz. Amid the applause that followed Wilson St. Clair’s announcement, Gannon swept Audrey onto the dance floor. She fitted perfectly in his arms, and she waltzed with elegance, matching each step with his, but the sparkle he was used to seeing in her eyes was absent. He told himself it was just the fatigue of the engagement. He would speak to Violet himself and tell her to cut back on the planning. It was too much for Audrey.

  By the time they went into supper, Gannon could not convince himself to ignore Audrey’s lack of spirit, although he could tell she was trying gallantly to hide it. He waited until after the Champagne toast to pull her aside. With a gentle pressure on her arm, he guided her out to a private alcove while the others continued to eat their supper.

  “Audrey, are you well?” Gannon asked once they were alone.

  “Yes, of course”

  “You haven’t seemed yourself tonight. I am worried about you” He rather thought a happy bride-to-be would look more radiant. The brides he’d met had looked quite happy during their engagements, especially the ones marrying up.

  “It’s all come as such a shock. There’s been so much so soon,” Audrey hedged.

  Gannon saw the statement for what it was. “Stop, Audrey. Don’t lie to me like that. If you are uncomfortable with our arrangement, you must tell me” It cost him everything to say that.

  Audrey shook her head fiercely. “No, I won’t see you jilted. I saw the settlements my father drew up. That money would secure Camberly for generations. I know how much you love Camberly. I won’t see you lose that because I played the fickle heart”

  “And I won’t have Camberly’s happiness built on your own unhappiness, Audrey. Camberly will be fine. The railroad money will see it through the next few years, and by then I’ll find a way to make ends meet” Gannon took both her hands in his. “Tell me the truth, Audrey. If it were just you and me, there was no title, no Camberly to save, would you still marry me?”

  He knew her answer before she spoke it. Tears welled in her eyes, giving them the appearance of watery gems. “No, not this fall. I am sorry, Gannon. I can’t give up my dreams.”

  “You’re not giving them up. You’re trading them for different ones, new ones,” Gannon argued softly, fighting the urge to kiss away the errant tear that had started to roll down her cheek.

  “I know what you’ve offered me. But it’s not the same. I don’t mean to be an excellent private pianist, Gannon. I mean to be a performer. I am certain that’s not acceptable for a countess”

  “I don’t care. I know a few theatre patrons. I’ll personally see that performances are arranged” He was begging now, and he didn’t care. He was losing Audrey as surely as if she were a boat sailing out to sea and
he still standing on the shore.

  “Please don’t, Gannon. I have to go to Vienna and try this, or I’ll spend the rest of my life never knowing what I could have accomplished.”

  “We’ll change the date of the wedding. We can marry next spring, next summer even. We can marry in June in London, the most fashionable time of all for a wedding.” Gannon dangled every carrot he could think of. “I’ll wait for you, Audrey.”

  Audrey shook her head, a sad smile on her lips. “No, it wouldn’t be fair. I don’t know how long this might take.”

  An awkward silence filled the conversation. When it became clear Audrey wouldn’t change her mind, Gannon said, “The break will be my responsibility. I won’t have you tainted by scandal, and perhaps your parents will be more amenable to having their brokenhearted daughter going off to Vienna to recover.”

  Audrey nodded. “I would be grateful. We can do it at the Fishes’ Harvest Ball, August twenty-second. It closes the Season”

  “Very well,” Gannon said stiffly. “And until then?”

  “I think we’ll have to act as if nothing has changed. I hope it isn’t too much to ask,” Audrey said.

  “Nothing is too much for your happiness.” Gannon found he meant it, even if it meant losing her. It was better this way instead of finding out five years into a resentful marriage, when there was nothing to do but tough it out. However, he rather suspected the next three weeks would be akin to rubbing salt into a wound.

  The following three weeks were indeed frenetic. Gannon often wondered if it truly was more hectic, more crammed full of activities, or if that was merely his perspective. But perhaps everyone was feeling a certain desperation, knowing that the luxurious Season was about to end and the idyll would be over. Back to New York, back to Paris, back to the Continent.

  Not that the Newport Season was any kind of vacation. Gannon barely had a moment’s peace. Now that the engagement had been announced, Wilson St. Clair took him everywhere. Only Gannon and Audrey knew the engagement was a sham, so Gannon played his part dutifully, accompanying Wilson to the Reading Room, crewing admirably on the St. Clair yacht in preparation for the cup races the last week of the Season.

  At least the physical exertions of sailing took his mind briefly off the debacle with Audrey. But then evening came, and the reminders were back tenfold. Every night he squired her to a ball or entertainment, danced her around the stylish Newport dance floors, laughed with her, took countless mental pictures of her in his mind to store up against all the time that would come without her.

  Soon after their private decision to cry off the engagement, Audrey had asked how he was. He’d smiled and said he was fine, that he understood perfectly the motivations for her choice, that he supported her. She had a talent she could not waste. She’d smiled broadly and hugged him. His acceptance made her happy, and so he hid his broken heart, even though he’d meant every word of his support.

  Whatever free time he had, he spent it in the St. Clair’s conservatory listening to Audrey practice. The St. Clairs had moved a small desk into the room for him so he could conduct his business and correspondence while not stepping away from Audrey’s side. Gannon snidely wondered if that was more out of Violet’s fear that Audrey would let the eligible earl slip away than it was out of generosity.

  Gannon studied the curve of Audrey’s shoulders from his desk in the conservatory, his mind only half on the letter he was penning to Garrett Atherton. It would be the last letter he’d send. Anything he had to say to Garrett, he would soon be able to say in person. Idly, he flipped the pages of a small desk calendar. In three weeks, he’d be home.

  The cup races, a two-day affair, started tomorrow. The beginning of the end. The last week of the Season would start with the races this year and end with the traditional Harvest Ball at Crossways. He would leave for New York two days after that, take rooms at the Delmonico Hotel for a night, and sail the next day. Alone.

  “You’re staring,” Audrey said from the piano bench.

  “I’m thinking,” Gannon corrected, stretching and rising from his desk.

  “About what?” She rose too, meeting him at the window overlooking the garden. They’d been able to continue their companionable friendship since their decision, and Gannon cherished these quiet moments with her. He would miss this the most, having someone to talk with about whatever was on his mind.

  “About going home. I’ll be home in time for the harvest. It seems I’ve been away for ages instead of a few months. And you, Audrey. When do you leave? Have you made your arrangements?” Gannon asked quietly. For propriety’s sake, the door to the room was left open.

  Audrey shook her head. “I have not been able to find a sailing schedule without drawing undue suspicion. I think I’ll have to rely on my father to make the arrangements at the last minute, or else it will look awkward for me to have purchased a ticket so far ahead of time.”

  Gannon nodded. “That makes sense. Still, come here.” He drew her by the hand to his desk and opened a small drawer. “Here’s a sailing schedule. It’s the one I brought with me in case I needed to change my ticket.” He ran a finger down the column of sailing times and gave her a sidelong grin. “I took the liberty of marking a few dates for you. Here, there’s a ship sailing from New York on the tenth of September. There’s one earlier, on the first, but you may need more time to convince your parents”

  Audrey placed a hand over his. “I can’t believe you did that for me. I know this can’t be easy for you.”

  Gannon stiffened and withdrew his hand. “Don’t, Audrey. I’ve given you my heart. That won’t change simply because you don’t want to marry me at present”

  A pained look flitted across Audrey’s face. “This is not easy for me either. Gannon, I-”

  Wilson St. Clair made an ill-timed entrance into the room. Whatever Audrey had been about to say would be left unsaid. “My dear boy, come down and see the boat. We’re ready for tomorrow. Not even Astor’s yacht will catch us”

  Audrey smiled gamely at Gannon. “Let me get my hat, and I’ll come too”

  Men had all the fun, Audrey pouted the next afternoon, sitting in the open-air carriage with her mother. The day was beautiful, blue skied and white clouded, the wind on the water perfect for racing. Gannon was out on the water, with the wind in his hair, the sun on his face, while she was stuck in the carriage wearing a hat, twirling a parasol, and viewing all the excitement through binoculars.

  The races had started that morning, and those who wished to watch the yachts’ progression could follow their course from the cliffs in carriages once the racers came around the bluffs. To kill time before the boats came into view, a grand picnic had been planned, but Audrey had little interest in eating. She’d kept picking up the binoculars, eager for the sight of Gannon and her father’s boat. At last, a call had gone up from the picnickers that the sloops had been sighted. Everyone had piled into their carriages.

  Audrey found her father’s boat in a tight competition with two others at the head of the race. Proudly, the St. Clair colors flew from the rigging-green and goldthe color of money, someone had once joked. “They’re tied for second with the Fishes, and the Astor yacht has a slight lead,” Audrey reported, breathless. The race was close, and it was exciting. Not everyone crewed their own boats. Many of the boaters hired captains and crews for the big race, much the way horse owners hired jockeys and trainers. But Audrey’s father captained his own yacht and sailed with his own crew. Today, he was holding his own against the professionals.

  Through the lenses of the binoculars, Audrey searched for Gannon on board the ship. She found him at the wheel and bit her lip. He was devastatingly handsome. His white shirt billowed against the wind, sleeves rolled up, collar open at the throat. Already the sun had given a golden cast to his face. His hair blew back from his face, and Audrey could see every aristocratic line of his features. He was laughing at something her father said, and then he began turning the wheel hard.

  The
Astor carriage came up beside them, Caroline proclaiming an early victory for the Astor boat. “Audrey, I didn’t know you were such an avid yachting fan,” Caroline noted, exchanging a knowing smile with Violet. Audrey blushed, prepared to take the teasing.

  “I think many women would enjoy racing more if Camberly crewed their ship.” Violet laughed. “Audrey has a handsome fiance”

  “She got the last good one… ” Caroline’s voice drifted off into gossip about someone’s husband, who’d turned out to be more trouble than he was worth.

  Audrey turned back to the binoculars and looked for Gannon again. He was handsome. More than that, he was kind and caring. Single-handedly, Gannon had been setting her stereotype of the titled nobleman on its ear since she met him. What if Caroline was right, and Gannon was the last good one? What was she throwing away by declining his offer?

  Audrey chewed her lip, putting down the binoculars as the carriage moved to a new vantage point. Gannon was unlike anyone she’d ever met. She’d never encountered a person of privilege or rank who cared so deeply for his people. He took his noble responsibilities seriously. She remembered the night at the Casino ball when he’d taken her outside to recover. He’d told her how reluctant he was to marry for money but how necessary it had become. She remembered the self-loathing in his voice and his commitment to doing his part nonetheless. And then there were his kisses, sharp reminders that he was not all nobility and stuffiness but a hot-blooded man with passions that went beyond the fields and crops and bank accounts.

  Oh, yes, Audrey doubted she’d ever find another person like Gannon Maddox again. Was she making the right choice? Was Vienna worth giving up Gannon? The question had plagued her in the weeks since their decision.