An Irresistible Bachelor

by J. R. Ward

  Our angel is with the rest.

  Yours faithfully,

  J. J. Rowe

  Callie looked up. Over the tattered edge of the paper, she saw the portrait.

  She reread the letter and went to the painting.

  Reaching out, she brushed her fingertips lightly over Nathaniel’s cheek and then stared at the reflection of the girl he had loved and lost.

  The Battle of Concord had been staged around the time of her death. Which meant that Nathaniel and Anne’s failed midnight meeting had been a matter of weeks before she’d died. Afraid of her father’s reaction, Anne had missed her last chance to see the man she loved, but it had been for no reason. If the general’s letter truly reflected his feelings, he would have approved of the union after all.

  Callie looked into Nathaniel’s eyes, shaking her head sadly at what he had lost. And what might have been.

  Good Lord, to have missed so much out of a fear that was ultimately unfounded.

  Anne would still have died, in all probability, but who knew what would have come of that meeting? A marriage proposal? Perhaps Nathaniel would have taken her with him somehow and she wouldn’t have contracted typhus in the city.

  Callie wondered what kinds of regrets Anne had had. By the time the girl fell ill, it would have been too late to get word to Nathaniel, so her destiny to forgo a last good-bye was sealed. Her father and her love were fighting and away from Boston. Even if she had sent for Nathaniel, it was doubtful she could have reached him in time, given the constraints of communication and the confusion of battle. It was hard not to imagine the sickened girl yearning to see the man she cared for so deeply.

  Callie put the letter down and wandered over to the windows that overlooked Buona Fortuna. The mansion was stunning in its illuminated glory. For a house that appeared so dour in the daylight, at night, with lights shining in all the rooms, it was dazzling.

  And the party was in full swing. Through the firstfloor windows, she could see shapes passing by as people in beautiful clothes mingled with one another.

  Somewhere, Jack was among them, she thought. And she was, once again, on the outside looking in.

  Recalling the evening she’d stood in front of that mansion with her mother, watching her father be with people who were friends to him and strangers to her, she was struck by how her life had come full circle.

  The difference was, now she was choosing not to go inside. There was nothing holding her back, nothing keeping her out of Jack’s life, but herself.

  She pictured Anne again, lying on her deathbed.

  And with a sudden, sickening clarity, Callie relived the last moment between her parents. She saw her mother, weak, unable to speak, her eyes the only things that moved. She saw her father, bent down low, face contorted in an anguish that was clearly from the heart. The words he had spoken washed over Callie and the pain they caused came swiftly, harshly. Immutably.

  As she heard what he’d said once again, she realized it wasn’t just Grace she was protecting by keeping the past out of her life. She, herself, was hiding from the worst truth of them all. It was as if, by not speaking her father’s name to anyone, what had happened, especially at the end, had not been real.

  But it had happened. It was real.

  And Callie knew with complete conviction that if she couldn’t acknowledge the past openly, she was going to lose the one shot she had at everything she had ever wanted. A man who loved her. A family. A place where she belonged.

  Someone who was hers.

  She knew what she had to do.

  On her way out, she picked up the letter, and holding it with care, she headed back to the house.

  23

  WHEN JACK left his study a half hour later, he was surprised by how good he felt, considering he was pouring $100 million or so into something that would at best be a break-even proposition. But part of it was Bryan McKay’s reaction. The doctor was over the moon and so enthusiastic that he was still stuttering a little when they’d hung up.

  Hell, Jack figured, if he couldn’t make things work out for himself, at least he could play fairy godmother to a few others. All he needed was a wand and a tutu.

  Now, there was a campaign ad.

  “Jack! How are you?” The CEO of one of the state’s largest insurance companies was coming down the hall. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about worker’s comp.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  He and the man spoke for quite a while until Jack’s mother appeared in the hall. Nate was with her, dressed in chef’s whites and looking like he was anxious to get back to the kitchen.

  “It’s time,” she said.

  Taking both her sons by the hand, Mercedes led them to the living room and put a halt to the procession when they were in front of the fireplace, right under Nathaniel Six’s portrait. A hush fell over the party and people began to press in close to make sure they could hear her speak.

  Looking across the room, Jack saw Gray leaning against a column in the back, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his eyes narrowed on Mercedes.

  “If I might have your attention for a moment,” she began.

  Jack hoped the speech was going to be quick this year. At every one of the holiday parties, Mercedes paid homage to his father in a litany of praises that stopped just short of being a eulogy. She seemed determined to keep the legend of Nathaniel Six alive. When Jack was feeling charitable toward her, he tried to see love in the gesture, but he was never totally convinced that her motivations were pure. He suspected she wanted to remind everyone exactly whom she’d been married to.

  But what was the harm, he thought, eyeing his brother over her snow-white chignon. Nate was looking as awkward as he felt.

  “My husband . . .”

  Jack tuned out the words and looked around idly, coming to attention only as he saw Callie and Grace edging their way through the front hall. They went halfway up the stairs, until they cleared the heads in the room, and stopped to listen to the speech.

  As he stared across the crowd, he had eyes only for Callie.

  Standing amid the fleet of high-stepping women and men in sleek tuxedos, she was dressed simply in a black-and-white outfit he’d seen before. Her hair was falling over her shoulders in a glorious red wave, and unlike so many of the other ladies, her makeup was soft, natural.

  To him, she was the most beautiful woman at the party. Hands down.

  At the foot of the stairs, he caught a couple of men eyeing her and talking. One shrugged, as if to indicate he didn’t know who she was, and then they both stared over their shoulders at her.

  The appreciation and hot speculation in their expressions had Jack curling his hands into fists. He wanted to tear through the crowd and kick them out of his house, even though one of them was his squash partner and the other he’d known since kindergarten.

  Callie didn’t seem to notice the attention, though. She was looking at something in her hand, and when she finally lifted her head, their eyes met. A yearning went through his body and he had to stop himself from taking a step toward her.

  With a soft smile, she lifted a tattered piece of paper up and waved it slowly in the air.

  Had she found the answer?

  Mercedes’s voice cut into his thoughts. “And then there is my son Jackson. As you all know, he’s made his father and me so proud with all he’s accomplished, and he’s about to take on another challenge. I’m simply thrilled to say that he will be running for governor of this fine commonwealth next November!”

  Jack snapped his head around. As a wave of cheers rose up into the air, he stared at his mother in disbelief.

  “How the hell could you do that,” he said through his teeth.

  But she was too busy soaking up the adulation to hear what he said.

  Frantically, he looked out to the stairs, but he couldn’t see through all the hands that were in the air. Fuck. He could only imagine what was going on in Callie’s head.

  “Speech! Speech! Speech!”<
br />
  Knowing he wasn’t going to be able to get away until he said something, he held his hands out and quieted down the guests.

  “I don’t have anything to formally announce one way or the other at this point.” Supportive shouts drowned him out. “But thank you for your vote of confidence.”

  As the clapping started again, he met Gray’s eyes. His friend was shaking his head, knowing exactly what would happen next. His mother had effectively announced his candidacy to three hundred of the most influential people in Massachusetts. And almost every one of them had a cell phone in their pocket. The news was going to be all over the Globe and the Herald tomorrow morning.

  When the fervor began to die down, Mercedes turned to him, all smiles, and exclaimed, “Isn’t it fabulous! They love you!”

  Jack leaned in closely, so no one else would hear. “Mother, you’re going to regret this.”

  She gasped and pulled back, but he was already walking away. He had to get to Callie.

  She’d disappeared, probably heading for her room. Jack was on his way to the stairs, deflecting congratulatory handshakes, when Gray stepped in his path.

  “We need to deal with this. Now.” Before he could speak, Gray said, “Did you know she was going to do that?”

  “Hell, no.”

  Gray’s cell phone went off and he took it out and frowned at the number. “We’ve got to caucus and prepare a statement to the press. Then we’re going to have to reach all of the members of the exploratory committee, including those who aren’t here tonight. Pissing off the people who’ve been helping you is the last thing you need to do right now. None of them expected this announcement.”

  Welcome to the goddamn club.

  Jack was infuriated. He had all this shit to deal with because of his mother’s need to be a power broker, and all he wanted to do was to find Callie.

  When Jack’s mother made her declaration and the crowd went wild, Callie closed her eyes.

  “I can’t believe this!” Grace exclaimed. “How exciting!”

  Callie forced a smile. “Yes. He really wants to run.”

  So much so, he hadn’t even bothered to wait for her answer.

  In the corner, she saw Gray cocking a cell phone and putting it up to his ear.

  She had to give Jack and his friend some credit. Having Mrs. Walker announce the candidacy, while under the portrait of Jack’s father, was a brilliant piece of maneuvering. It was a perfect act of calculated spontaneity, a staging that emphasized his family’s lineage and service to the state and country. And doing it at a holiday party, without the press, was ideal. Word was going to get around just fine; hell, the cell phones were already being flipped open. The reporters were going to be forced to come to Jack for details, giving him an opportunity to grant interviews as a form of patronage. As a press strategy, it was magnificent.

  He’d arranged the situation to his advantage beautifully.

  As Jack held his hands over his head and smiled, assuming the quintessential politician pose, she looked away. She had no interest in what he had to say.

  She couldn’t believe he hadn’t bothered to wait. He’d promised to hold off until tomorrow, but now it was all over. He was running. And she was out of his life.

  With half an ear, she heard the guests quieting down obediently, Jack’s deep voice speaking, and then there was an eruption of clapping and shouting again.

  “Callie?” Grace shouted over the uproar.

  She snapped to. “Yes?”

  “You wanted to go upstairs to talk?”

  Not anymore, she thought. Or not for what she thought she was going to say.

  “I just want to show you what I found,” she replied.

  “You found another letter?”

  “The letter, as it were.”

  Callie followed Grace to her room.

  Once inside Grace and Ross’s bedroom, she took a seat on a chintz-covered chaise lounge in the corner. Kicking her shoes off, she tucked her legs under her as Grace took the letter over to a lamp and read.

  She’d been so ready to take the leap, Callie thought. To tell Jack everything and beg him to find a way for them to be together. And she’d decided that even if Grace was uncomfortable with Jack knowing about their past, it didn’t matter. She was going to speak the truth anyway and choose Jack over everything she’d spent her life protecting. As well as what little family she had.

  Only she’d been too late. Or maybe he hadn’t been serious about not running, after all.

  “This is extraordinary.” Grace looked up. “We were right.”

  Callie glanced at the paper. “You were right.”

  “Have you shown this to Jack?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll wait until tomorrow. He’s got a lot on his hands right now.”

  “He certainly does.” Grace put the sheet down on a bedside table. “How much do you have left to do on the portrait?”

  “I finished the cleaning this afternoon. All I have to do is apply the fresh varnish coat and the project is done.”

  Grace sat down at the foot of the chaise. Her fingers went to work on the heavy diamond studs she was wearing in her earlobes. “And then what?”

  Callie laughed quietly. “And then I’m heading back to New York.”

  At that moment, the door opened and Ross walked in. He was wrenching his bow tie off like he hated having the thing around his neck, and he stopped when he saw Callie.

  “Am I interrupting something?”

  Callie got up and retrieved the letter. “Not at all. I should go. It’s late. What time are you leaving tomorrow morning?”

  Grace followed her to the door. “Right after breakfast.”

  “I’ll see you first thing in the morning, then. Good night, Grace. Night, Ross.”

  As she went down the hall, she thought that tomorrow she would show Jack the letter, put the varnish on the painting, and then it would all be over.

  She was surprised that she was actually looking forward to going back to her studio. However modest it was, everything in it was hers. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do for a job, but she figured she’d solve that problem eventually.

  After she shut her door, she hesitated. And then she slowly turned the lock.

  She had a feeling Jack would come to her tonight, and she didn’t have the energy left to deal with him. She just wanted peace.

  And she would never find it with Jack Walker in her life.

  24

  IT WAS two o’clock in the morning by the time Jack could get himself out of his study. Members of the exploratory committee and Gray had turned it into command central and they’d all spent hours working every phone line he had. Calls were coming in from reporters, legislators, and business contacts. He did eight interviews with the press before midnight.

  Although it wasn’t as if he had much to say.

  Against the overwhelming consensus of opinion in the room, Jack had stood firmly behind a noncommittal holding statement. Even Gray had hotly disagreed with him, convinced that capitalizing on the rush was a good idea.

  But Jack refused to make it official before he got to Callie. Even if it would be messy, it still wasn’t too late for him to back out, and he had hope that she would still come around. Slim though the optimism was.

  After thanking Gray and the two advisers who were still in the room, he went upstairs to find her.

  Striding down the runner in the hall, he thought he should have known his mother would pull a stunt like that. A woman who could change her entire identity, and walk away from her mother, father, sisters, and brothers without ever looking back, was capable of anything when she put her mind to it.

  And she’d made it very clear how badly she wanted him in office.

  Well, first thing tomorrow morning, he was going to take care of his mother.

  Jack stopped in front of Callie’s door and tried to prepare himself for whatever was going to happen. He knocked, and when there was no answer, he went to open it. Th
e knob didn’t turn.

  Unable to comprehend the problem at first, he jiggled the brass with a curse.

  And then he slowly released his hand.

  He couldn’t believe it. She’d locked him out.

  He was about to start pounding the door down, had raised his fist and leaned forward, when he stopped himself.

  Jack dropped his hand to his side. Sat back on his heels. Stared at the door.

  Not only didn’t she trust him; she clearly had no faith in him, either. She hadn’t even bothered to let him explain that his mother’s announcement had been rash, unexpected, and wrong.

  Abruptly he felt as though he couldn’t breathe. With an uncoordinated hand, he undid his bow tie, loosened his collar. Opening his mouth, he dragged some air into his lungs.

  So this is how it ends, he thought.

  How appropriate that it was with him being locked out of her room.

  Jack laid his palm against the door.

  He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, but eventually he resurfaced and knew he needed to face up to reality.

  No matter what she said, Callie didn’t love him enough. She’d made her choice. She didn’t want him in her life.

  So be it.

  Jack let his hand fall from the door and walked away.

  He wasn’t sure where he was going or why. The only thing he was certain of was that standing in front of her locked bedroom wasn’t where he wanted to be when the sun came up.

  When he found himself downstairs, there were waiters still milling around. The men and women were carrying trays of dirty glasses into the kitchen and stripping the dining room of the remnants of the food. It dawned on him that he’d missed saying good night to the guests.

  Probably just as well, he thought, heading for his study. He wouldn’t have been able to stomach all of the good wishes for his candidacy.

  Gray was in the room by himself, packing up papers.

  “Hell of a night, huh,” his friend murmured.

  You have no idea, he thought.

  He stared at Gray for a minute and then spoke sharply. “Tomorrow morning, I want the committee members downtown in my office early.”