Heart of Glass

by Jill Marie Landis

  “May I help you, sir?”

  “I’m Colin Delany. I wish to see Katherine Keene Delany, my wife, and I’ve been told she doesn’t live here.”

  The assistant manager stared at him in silence for a moment.

  “That’s correct. Miss Keene, excuse me, I mean Mrs. Delany, is no longer in residence here, sir.”

  “But I have met her here twice. We were told this is where we can reach her.”

  The assistant manager glanced at the young clerk who was listening to the exchange and then motioned to Colin to follow him to the far end of the counter. He lowered his voice and leaned across the marble surface.

  “Mrs. Delany has not been here for quite some time, sir.”

  “But we had dinner here the day before yesterday.”

  “That may be, but she’s no longer in residence. She moved out quite a while ago.”

  Colin searched the man’s expression. He appeared to want to be helpful.

  “Do you know her? She lived here for a time with her companion, a woman named O’Hara.”

  “I know Mrs. Delany, sir.” The man sighed and then glanced around the lobby. “She receives mail here — letters and parcels — but I can assure you, she does not live here anymore.”

  Outside the massive hotel Colin stared up and down the street with no idea where to start looking for Kate, until he remembered Roger Jamison. Surely her employer knew where she was staying.

  He hired a hack and rode to the architect’s home. He asked the driver to wait and walked up to Jamison’s front door. The sound of laughter and conversation drifted out onto the portico.

  Relief tempered his anxiety as Colin lifted the door knocker. Surely Kate was inside.

  A maid answered the door.

  “May I see Roger Jamison?” Colin asked.

  “He’s having dinner with guests.”

  “I’m here on a matter of import. If you wouldn’t mind disturbing him I’d appreciate it.”

  The maid left and in a moment Jamison appeared carrying a linen napkin. He smiled when he recognized Colin.

  “Merry Christmas, Delany. This is quite a surprise.”

  “Hello, sir.” Colin removed his hat. “I’d like to see Kate. Is she here?”

  “Why, no, she’s not. She was invited but decided to spend the day at home.”

  Colin felt his collar tighten. “Where is home? I thought she was staying at the St. Charles.”

  Roger Jamison waved Colin inside and closed the door behind him. The aroma of a holiday feast, along with raucous laughter, filled the house.

  “Why I also assumed she was in residence at the St. Charles,” Jamison said.

  Colin’s heart sank. “They claim she isn’t.”

  “I doubt Kate would have them lie to you.”

  “They didn’t appear to be lying. Do you have any idea where she might be staying? Are you sure she never mentioned it?”

  “I’m sorry, Delany. You can bet I’ll ask her when she comes in after the holidays.”

  “If you find out before I do, please let me know.”

  “Is everything all right at Belle Fleuve?”

  There was no denying the man’s sincerity. “Everything’s fine.”

  “You’re welcome to join us.”

  “Thank you for the invitation, but I’d best be on my way.”

  Though he was hungry, joining a group of merry revelers was the last thing on Colin’s mind as he walked back to the carriage.

  “Where to, sir?” The driver looked as if he’d rather be at home enjoying his own dinner.

  “Give me a minute.”

  How was he ever going to find Kate in a city this size with no idea where to start? He looked down the street. Holiday greenery decorated the front doors of the well-appointed houses. Here and there couples and families with packages in hand rang doorbells and joined others in celebration.

  Colin had left Damian and Marie to celebrate with the Boltons so that he could see Kate. He could return to the St. Charles, leave Kate a note, and let her know that he had been here, but it would be hours before he was home again. He needed to eat before he began his journey back.

  The driver opened the door for him and Colin instructed, “Take me to Antoine’s.”

  Ezekiel Stevens held the door for Kate as she stepped out of the restaurant. Pausing on the sidewalk, she made certain her hat was tipped just right, pleased that the captain had kept his promise. He hadn’t flirted once, nor had he encouraged her to confide in him about her marital problems.

  They had discussed his steamboat house project and then shared some other outlandish ideas he had for future projects. By the end of the meal Kate found her mood lightened. She wished she knew a suitable young woman who might be interested in Stevens, someone as strong and charismatic as the captain. But seeing as how he had ogled every woman in the room, she doubted he was looking for a lasting relationship.

  The street was even more deserted than before, the sun sinking low in the afternoon sky. Two- and three-story buildings cast the street in shadows that grew chillier by the moment.

  “Thank you for a delicious meal and for sparing me a lonely afternoon,” she said.

  Ezekiel gave the corner of his hat a tug.

  “Thank you, Kate. The pleasure was all mine. Let me just say your husband is a fool.”

  “He’s stubborn, that’s all.”

  “And so are you.”

  She smiled. “You’re right.”

  Too stubborn by half. It was time she went home and forced Colin to listen to reason.

  “I’ll walk you back to the hotel,” he said.

  “No, thank you. It’s not far and I need some time alone. Besides, you’re so close to the wharf that it would be out of your way. I’ll be all right.”

  “Promise me you won’t dawdle. I don’t like the idea of you out alone after dark, Kate.”

  She shook her head and gave him a smile. “No need to worry on my account. I’ll go straight home.”

  The hack pulled up at the corner across from Antoine’s and Colin was about to step out when he spotted Kate walking out of the restaurant with Captain Stevens. He’d taken punches to the gut that hurt less. His wife adjusted her jaunty feathered hat. The captain smiled as if he’d just won a round of faro. The couple was in no hurry. They lingered in front of the restaurant laughing and talking.

  Had Kate ever looked at him in the carefree, buoyant way she was smiling up at Stevens?

  When have I ever given her reason to smile?

  Had he lost her?

  Colin stayed inside the dark interior of the hack and watched them the way a starving man stares at a loaf of bread. Had Stevens given Kate back her joy? Were the haunted shadows in her eyes gone?

  When the captain offered Kate his arm, Colin held his breath. To his amazement Kate shook her head. The two chatted a moment longer before she started up the street alone. Stevens walked off in the opposite direction, whistling as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

  Colin drew back as Stevens passed by on the other side of the street.

  The driver leaned down. “Change your mind, sir?”

  Colin lowered his voice. “Follow the woman in the black dress, but keep your distance.”

  A minute or two passed. The driver waited for Kate to walk farther down the street before the carriage started rolling. The horse’s hooves clattered with a slow, steady beat on the cobblestones. The driver hung back far enough not to draw suspicion.

  Colin leaned back against the leather seat, tapping his fingers against his knees with impatience. They followed her up St. Louis Street for a number of blocks until the carriage turned in the opposite direction of the St. Charles and eventually stopped at an alleyway between two buildings. The driver climbed down off the box and stood in the window.

  “She’s gone down this alleyway, sir,” he whispered. “You’ll have to go on foot from here.”

  Colin climbed out. He could follow only so far before his ankle gave out. Afr
aid he would lose her, haste made him clumsy and he fumbled with his coins as he paid the driver.

  The sound of the departing carriage wheels echoed between the buildings as Colin started down the narrow lane in a rundown section of the French Quarter. Kate was a good block ahead of him. Colin tried to ignore his pain as he hobbled along.

  Ahead, Kate suddenly stopped and disappeared inside a building.

  He waited in an alcove, but when it appeared she was not coming out, Colin continued on until he reached a small shop front. The window was lettered with the name of a cobbler. Like the others on the street, the exterior was coated with cracked and peeling stucco. The interior of the shop was dark. A small sign on the door read: Closed until the New Year.

  Colin cupped his hands and pressed them against the window to look inside. There was no sign of anyone and certainly not Kate. There was another door beside the shop window, this one painted the color of rust. A cracked windowpane was centered in the door above the handle. Colin peered inside this window and saw a dark, narrow stairway leading to the second floor.

  He tried the knob, found it unlocked, and went in.

  The stairs were old and worn and Colin figured the building had been standing since the French flag had flown over New Orleans. He used the handrail, grateful for its presence, and slowly made his way to the landing.

  On the second floor, a dingy hall was lined with four doors, all closed. Stale odors mingled with the smell of onions. Kate was behind one of these doors.

  He knocked on the first and no one answered. The second door opened and an elderly man in shirtsleeves and a stained waistcoat blinked at Colin like a mole unused to sunlight.

  “Help ya?” He had but two upper teeth.

  “I’m looking for Katherine Keene Delany.”

  “What you want with her?”

  It had been a long day, Colin’s ankle hurt, and he wasn’t in the mood to be polite.

  “I’m her husband. Now where is she?”

  The man thumbed toward the door at the end of the hall. “I don’t want no trouble here, mister.”

  Colin was already limping down the hall.

  Alone in her small room above the cobbler’s shop, Kate slipped the hat pin from her hat, rethreaded it, and set her hat on an overcrowded dressing table. She barely had room to move between the bed and the armoire crowded against one wall. A washstand and a chair completed the furnishings. Kate liked to deny that a life of privilege had spoiled her, but with no one there to hang up her clothes, there were pieces of clothing strewn all over the bed.

  Kate had found the small room by chance two days after leaving Belle Fleuve. She’d been walking the streets and alleyways, studying balconies and ironwork on older buildings for design inspiration when she saw a small sign in the window of the shoe repair shop on the ground floor.

  The flat was passable, highly affordable, and the landlord did not insist upon a lease. Dan Rosen had congratulated her on her thriftiness. Kate was certain he’d be appalled and worried about her safety if he ever actually saw the place.

  Kate had expected to be there a week or two at the most. Now, two months later, she was still dealing with the cramped room.

  She picked up a small tin of matches to light the candle she’d placed on the windowsill last night. The flame danced, reflected in the glass as it bloomed. Outside, evening shadows expanded around the buildings.

  There are far worse things than being alone on Christmas. Far worse things.

  Kate jumped when a firm knock sounded on the door. Not once had anyone sought her here.

  As she threaded her way around the bed, she smoothed her hand over her hair.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s me, Kate. Open the door.”

  She immediately recognized Colin’s voice and the thread of impatience in it and closed her eyes. How on earth had he found her?

  Fear for the children set her heart racing. Her fingers fumbled on the lock before she opened the door. He was tall and imposing, a formidable force in the narrow, dingy hallway.

  “Come in.” She stepped back to give him room. It must have cost him dearly to climb the stairs. There was nowhere for him to sit so she tossed a pile of clothes off a chair and onto the bed. She folded her hands together to keep them from shaking.

  “Please, sit down.” She saw the room through his eyes: Damian’s peanut necklace hanging around a lamp shade; the repaired Staffordshire dog sitting beside her miniature of Belle Fleuve; Marie’s paintings tacked up to the wall over her bed. The pages of Myra’s long-awaited letter were scattered across the pillows. Kate’s clothing was everywhere, and various pairs of boots and shoes littered the floor.

  “I’m sorry things are in such upheaval.” Kate knitted her fingers together. “Are the children all right? Is there an emergency?”

  She longed to smooth the deep creases from his brow. Instead she waited, felt the anger roiling off him even from across the room. Had he come to ask for a divorce? Would he go that far?

  “The children are fine. They are at the Boltons’. There is no emergency, Kate, but had there been, how would I have found you?”

  She dropped her gaze to her hands, but he gave her no time to respond.

  “I went to the St. Charles earlier and asked for you at the front desk. Apparently you haven’t been in residence there for quite a while.”

  “No …”

  “And yet you led everyone to believe you were — not only your employer, but Cora, Eugenie, the children. Me.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want …”

  “Does Ezekiel Stevens know you live here?”

  She met his dark gaze and saw hurt and jealousy there.

  “Of course not. Why?”

  “I saw you leave Antoine’s with him.”

  “You were at the restaurant? Why didn’t you say something? Is that how you found me? By spying on me? Following me?”

  “I wasn’t spying. When I didn’t find you at the St. Charles, I went to Jamison’s. He had no idea where you were, so I decided to have dinner before I left town. That’s when I saw you and the captain coming out of the restaurant—”

  “I ran into him coming out of church. He asked me to dine with him.” She met Colin’s unwavering stare with one of her own. “That’s all it was. As you are well aware, I returned alone.”

  She expected a comment. He fell silent. The tension in the air was as thick as gumbo.

  “My dinner with the captain was completely innocent. Can you say the same for your association with the redheaded woman Stevens saw on your arm when you came to town seeking your loan?” It was impossible for Kate to imagine him going to another woman after what they had shared the night before.

  His brow knit in obvious puzzlement. “Redhead?”

  Kate held her breath.

  “You don’t mean Tillie Cutter?”

  “I don’t know. Do I?”

  “She’s a prostitute, Kate.”

  She pressed her hand to her heart, aghast.

  “She means nothing to me,” he insisted.

  “You slept with her?” she whispered.

  “Of course not. I originally met her on the train from Texas, and I ran into her when I came to town with Jason. She helped me cross the street, that’s all. That’s when Stevens saw us. I’ll bet he couldn’t wait to tell you.”

  Kate wanted to believe him.

  “Oh, Kate, come on. Ask yourself why he would want to make more of it than it really was.”

  Stevens’ behavior had been above reproach today, but it wasn’t beyond the captain to try to stir up trouble between them.

  “I sent Tillie away when she came to Belle Fleuve, and I sent her on her way that night too, Kate. Please, say you believe me.”

  She met his gaze and saw the truth. There were far more threats to their marriage than Tillie Cutter. Awkward silence stretched between them in the confined space.

  His gaze traveled to Marie’s paintings on the wall above the bed, to the ma
p showing the way to Belle Fleuve above her desk. Then the heat of his stare returned to her.

  “Oh, Kate, why are you here”—he indicated the room with a wave—”living like this?”

  Like the candle in the window, a flicker of hope ignited inside her.

  “Why are you here, Colin? What do you want?”

  Colin wished she’d move closer. How could he even begin to tell her what was in his heart when he was so worried about what she was doing in a place like this?

  Suddenly he surged to his feet and crossed the room. Kate’s eyes widened as he took hold of her shoulders. She had to tip back her head to stare into his eyes.

  “Tell me you did not spend your entire inheritance on Belle Fleuve.” He could see her mind racing and could feel her shoulders rise and fall on a sigh.

  “I have not spent everything on Belle Fleuve, not that it would matter to me if I had. My accountant warned me my funds are running low, but he is making investments for me.” She smiled at Colin as if she hadn’t a care in the world. “I’m sure that soon I’ll have no worries. We’ll have no worries. I’m staying here to save money. That’s all.” She shrugged. “I don’t need more than this.”

  He glanced at the mountain of clothing on the bed. “You might not need more room but you could certainly use some help.”

  “I’ve told you what you wanted to know,” she said. “Now tell me why you are here.”

  He swallowed and smoothed his palms along the black silk across her shoulders.

  “I came to apologize.” He felt lighter already. “I came to take you home.”

  Tears filled her eyes. He hated himself for causing them.

  “If you can forgive me,” he added. “If it’s not too late.”

  She reached up, traced her fingertips across his brow.

  “I had no idea my actions would cause you such embarrassment and pain. I had no right …”

  “You saved Belle Fleuve. You saved me, Kate.”

  Colin slipped his arms around her, pulled her close, and kissed her, hoping that his kiss would convey everything his words lacked, everything that was in his awakened heart. When Kate kissed him back, when she melted against him, his heart soared.