by Joanna Shupe
He shot to his feet. “If that were true, then you would not have left in such a hurry. You would also know when you plan to return. Why do you bother lying to me? You forget how well I know you.”
On the contrary, in the past few weeks she’d realized how utterly mismatched the two of them would have been. “You do not know me nearly as well as you think. If you did, you would see why your presence on this train is pure madness, Henry.”
“Wrong.” He paced as much as one could in the small sitting area of the car. “I’ve known you since we were children, Lizzie. Cavanaugh’s known you for what, three months? You and I are so much alike. We make sense. Cavanaugh is nothing but a lowborn laborer. He’s—”
“That’s enough,” she snapped, then glanced around. Thankfully, the car was not crowded, the other passengers far enough away that they would not overhear. Still, she lowered her voice. “Do not say any more. You sound like an aristocratic snob, Henry. My husband is hardworking and a good man.”
The train swayed, and Henry had to reach out to steady himself on a chair. “Do not tell me you actually have feelings for the big ape.”
“If you call him another name, I shall switch trains at the next stop—after I throw your baggage into the wilds of Pennsylvania.”
“Touching, but you should know that your husband doesn’t reciprocate your tender feelings. If he did, then he certainly wouldn’t have told me where to find you. How else did I learn which train you had taken?”
Lizzie lost her breath. “He did what?”
Henry shrugged. “Even he realizes I am the man you should be married to. So do not think he is at home, pining for you. He’s probably trolling the vaudeville houses as we speak, looking for an actress to—”
“Do not say it,” she gritted out, though there was every possibility Henry was correct. How could Emmett have thrown Henry at her like this? Only last night, he’d forbidden her to even be alone with the other man. She closed her eyes, hurt and confusion now strangling her insides.
He doesn’t want you, Lizzie. He never did.
A terrible pressure built behind her lids, a signal that her emotions were about to crash. She bit her lip, trying to hold back until she could be alone.
Henry shifted closer. “Fine. But you should also know that Cavanaugh’s planning to take over your brother’s company. I have it on good authority that he’s trying to bribe the Northeast board to gain a majority share.”
She blinked at Henry. “What? Why would Emmett want to take over Will’s company?”
“As revenge for forcing the marriage between you, obviously.”
Her chest burned, a bitter hurt mixed with fury. Damn Emmett Cavanaugh. She knew he hated Will, but would he really try to take away her family legacy? Granted, there had been some financial difficulty of late—
Oh, heavens. The balance sheets from the storm . . . It had obviously been a railroad company. Had Lizzie been looking at Northeast Railroad’s books? If so, then Will had been bilking investors by selling more stock than he should, which meant he could be investigated. Possibly prosecuted for fraud.
Only one person could answer these questions, and he was not aboard the train. And all this speculation produced nothing but an ache in her temples.
“Henry, you need to stop.”
“Fine, but let me ask you: Who is here now? Who has rushed to your side to help you? I have wanted you for years.”
“Yet you did nothing. That is not the way I wish to be wanted by my husband.”
His expression clouded. She knew he didn’t understand, but how could she begin to describe the desperation that overcame her every time Emmett touched her? The need for him was essential, as necessary as air and water.
She didn’t prefer to be worshipped from afar while a man bided his time. She would rather be ravished and devoured by a man who took what he wanted, damn the consequences.
“I do want you, Lizzie. I swear it.”
“Then why did you leave for Maine instead of attending my birthday party last year? Why did you escort other women to dinner? Or take them sailing?”
“Because I needed to live first, before settling down. I was not ready to marry you then.”
“But you are now?” she asked with a skeptical tone.
“Yes!” he nearly shouted. “And if my doing those things upset you, why did you not mention them before now?”
“They didn’t upset me. I was never jealous, only surprised.” Which was true. She’d never cared about what Henry did or who he was with. Not like with Emmett, when the mere thought of him with another woman caused bile to rise in her throat.
Henry frowned, his boyishly handsome face unhappy. “I don’t understand why you are arguing with me. Your husband has turned his back on you, but I’m here. I love you and I want to marry you.”
Suddenly, all became clear. Everything Henry had ever wanted had been handed to him. He’d never had to work, struggle, or fight for anything. Women, money, friends . . . it was all so easy for him. And he couldn’t comprehend why she was denying him what he assumed was his due.
How could she make him understand?
“Henry, you should return to New York. We shall always be friends, but that is all.”
His lips thinned in displeasure, and she could see by the stubborn set of his chin that he didn’t believe her. “You do not mean that. The travel has obviously overset you, and you’re not thinking clearly. I’ll let you rest and then see you for dinner.”
Taking several strides, he reached the door. Before turning the latch, he shot a look over his shoulder. “I care about you, Lizzie. I only want to see you happy.” With that, he disappeared into the vestibule leading to another car.
* * *
Emmett paced the length of his bedroom, uncertainty gnawing at his gut as his feet chewed up the distance. Walk, walk, turn, walk. And back again. That damned letter. He couldn’t get it out of his head. He’d read the thing so many times, the words were committed to memory.
Emmett,
I am to leave for a trip today. I am uncertain when I will return.
Sincerely,
Elizabeth
The note was as cold and impersonal as he’d ever seen, but he knew what she meant. Brendan had sworn Emmett was wrong, that she planned to return. But Emmett had been through this before. Another woman, another note . . . and their mother had never returned, either.
Brendan had confessed about his conversation with Elizabeth, that he’d spilled the real reason Emmett had attended the dinner at Sherry’s. Guilt weighed heavily on Brendan, and he’d apologized profusely. Yet Emmett could not be angry with his brother. Emmett alone was the reason his wife had left.
Gone. She was gone.
Even in all the turmoil since the stock purchase, he had never thought she would up and leave. He’d been angry, yes, but he’d assumed she would stand up to him. Yell at him. Poke and prod him until he relented. He had wanted her to prove him wrong. But she hadn’t done any of those things, and now she’d walked away.
He had no intention of letting her go, however.
As soon as he’d finished reading her brief letter, he’d started packing. In the meantime, he’d ordered Kelly to Grand Central Depot to discern her destination. That had been over an hour ago. So where in the hell was Kelly with answers?
With the packing now complete, the wait was intolerable. Emmett strode to the bed and closed his small bag. He’d go to the train station and find her train himself.
Just as he reached to open his door, Kelly burst in, out of breath, his cheeks dry and red from the cold.
“About damned time,” Emmett snapped, stepping around him and into the corridor. He hurried toward the stairs, and Kelly fell into step at his side. “What did you learn?”
“She took the 10:49 Cuyahoga Express.”
“That’s a Northeast train, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Kelly replied as they started down the staircase. “But there’s more.” Kelly put a ha
nd on Emmett’s shoulder to stop him. Emmett saw the uneasiness on his friend’s face, the trepidation.
“What is it?”
“There was another person on the train.”
A moment passed as Emmett tried to understand what Kelly was saying. Another person, one whose identity made Kelly uneasy. The pieces fell into place, and Emmett’s free hand clutched at the bannister. Rutlidge. “Son of a bitch.”
Emmett’s teeth ground together, a paltry outlet for the rage currently coursing through him. She’d run off with her ex-beau. Jesus Christ. How could he not have seen this coming? Stupid, so fucking stupid. Emmett wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. Here he was, ready to charge after her and bring her back . . . when she’d left him for another man.
You didn’t really think you could hold on to her, did you?
Emmett shoved his bag into Kelly’s arms. “Take that back to my room.” He thumped down the steps, trying to keep from hitting something.
“Bish, wait up. Where are you going?” Kelly called from behind. “I’ll come with—”
“Leave me alone. I’m going to swim,” Emmett snapped. “I don’t need a damn nursemaid.”
Several of the footmen and maids visibly shrank from Emmett as he stomped through the house. No doubt his face conveyed precisely what he was feeling, that the tightly held leash on his control was slipping. By the time he stripped down and dove into the heated water of the swimming pool, he could barely breathe. He hadn’t felt this way in a long, long time, so vulnerable and raw. So empty.
Cool silence enveloped him as his arms cut through the water, his legs kicking hard. He did this often for exercise, mostly as a way to keep his head clear. The solitude and the quiet helped him think. He had taught himself to swim years ago, as a boy. It had been either that or drown, considering he’d been tossed into the East River by rival gangs one too many times. More proof that he need not rely on anyone else. The only person you could count on was yourself.
When he returned to the end, he noticed his brother’s boots planted on the tile. Emmett didn’t acknowledge him, just kept going, arms churning and legs pounding. Brendan would try and reason with him, and Emmett felt entirely unreasonable at this moment. There was nothing to say. Nothing he wanted to hear, at least.
So he ignored Brendan and swam until his muscles gave out. When he could no longer lift his arms, he clung to the side of the pool. His lungs bellowed as he struggled for air, and he figured he might as well get it over with. “Well?”
“You’ve got to go after her.”
Emmett made a noise. “The hell I do.”
“Don’t be a fool.” Brendan huffed in annoyance. “You did not see her face this morning, Em. That woman cares about you. She was crushed to learn that you hadn’t met her of your own free will.”
“Yes, crushed enough to run away with Rutlidge,” Emmett muttered.
“That’s just it. I don’t think she ran away with him. The note she left for the girls said she wanted to take some time for herself—”
“Not that she could tell the girls about Rutlidge.” Brendan started to argue, so Emmett held up a hand. “Why would I bother? Give me one good reason to chase her down.”
“Because you love her. And because I suspect she loves you, but you’re both too stubborn to admit it.”
Emmett said nothing, just stared at the far wall. Did he love her?
“At the very least, you must give her a chance to explain. Em, think. For once, pretend this is a company you’re thinking about buying—not your wife. She had years to merge with Rutlidge and resisted him. You know her. This is the woman who walked in off the street and asked you to back her investment company. If she had wanted Rutlidge, she would have married him long before now.”
That did make some sense, he supposed. Elizabeth was nothing if not resourceful. Elizabeth sounds like a woman strong enough to change history, to chart any course she chooses. His own words went through his mind, bringing doubt along with them.
He pushed off from the wall and floated on his back, Hades and Persephone directly above him. He’d always sympathized with Hades, the misunderstood brute who had to resort to trickery to keep a woman. And wasn’t that precisely what you did to Elizabeth by never telling her the truth?
“Also,” Brendan continued, “if she didn’t love you, she never would’ve been so upset over what I said.”
Emmett didn’t know if that was true or not. Women were complicated creatures, which was why he’d avoided anything emotional before now.
“I know it’s easier to believe the worst in people, Em. Less chance of someone’s letting you down that way. But you have to trust her. If she were my wife, I’d be halfway to Ohio by now.”
There was that word again, trust. Hadn’t Elizabeth accused him of the very same thing, of not ever trusting anyone?
“So what would you have me do?” Emmett asked up at Hades. “Chase after her and steal her away from Rutlidge?”
“Well, for starters, get out of the swimming pool, get dressed, and then find a way to stop her train.”
“I can accomplish that with one telegram. The question is, why would I bother?”
Brendan stayed quiet for a long minute. When he spoke, his voice cracked with emotion. “We were too young to chase after her, Emmett. Neither of us had the ability to stop her, and then she was gone.” Emmett heard him swallow, and a sudden tightness lodged in his own throat as well. “Do not squander this opportunity. There may be no getting it back. Even if you fail, at least you’ll have tried. Isn’t Lizzie worth the fight?”
Brendan’s footsteps faded and Emmett remained in the pool, floating. Was his brother right? Did Elizabeth love him? If so, then why did she leave?
“Harvard’s called it, you know.”
Kelly’s voice rang out from the other end of the room, where he’d clearly been eavesdropping.
“I wondered when you’d show yourself,” Emmett said. “You couldn’t leave it alone, could you?”
“Did you leave it alone that time I was knifed by the Dead Rabbits? Did you leave it alone when Rebecca died, and I nearly drown in a bottle? Or when I started fightin’ again, takin’ risks in back alleys?”
Emmett said nothing. He’d done those things for the same reason his friend had followed Emmett down to the pool: because they were family.
“Bish, I know why you keep pushin’ her away. You think you ain’t worthy of her, that you don’t deserve happiness. Do you remember what you said to me when Rebecca died?”
Kelly had nearly been destroyed by his wife’s illness and slow demise. When Rebecca had finally died, Emmett had stayed with Kelly for weeks, afraid to leave his friend’s side for fear of what Kelly might do.
“I never hid my past from Rebecca. She knew where I came from, what I’d done in Five Points. Said she loved me all the more for my past because I overcame it. But when she died . . .” Kelly’s voice trailed off and then he cleared his throat.
“You said it was punishment for your sins,” Emmett said gently. “That it was your fault she became ill and died.”
“And you told me I was wrong. That my time with Rebecca, no matter how short, was my reward for makin’ it out of the slums.”
“What’s your point?”
Kelly came to stand at the pool’s edge and stared down at Emmett. “You hate to admit you’re wrong, always have. But your wife is nobody’s fool. If you think she doesn’t know you, doesn’t know the kind of man you are, you’re wrong. She knows, and she loves you anyway.”
“She doesn’t know everything. Not about Five Points.”
“Wrong. Brendan has been fillin’ her in on a lot of it. She knows more than you think, and she was still willing to put up with you.”
Emmett frowned. Brendan had no right to tell Elizabeth any of it, not without discussing it with Emmett first. How much had his brother told her?
“She left because she believes you never wanted her—not because she doesn’t want you,” Kelly
said. “You need to get out of the pool, Emmett. Get dressed and go after your reward before it’s too late.”
Chapter Nineteen
A young lady should be very careful as to the formation of traveling acquaintances . . .
—American Etiquette and Rules of Politeness, 1883
“May I join you for breakfast?”
Lizzie glanced up to find a well-dressed Henry Rutlidge by her table. With the dining car near full, it would be rude to refuse, though she truly did not want company. Especially Henry.
Manners won out. “Of course.” She gestured to the opposite seat. Henry dropped down, a wide smile on his face.
“Good morning,” he said brightly, and then turned to the waiter to order.
She did not feel nearly so chirk this morning. Though she had skipped dinner in an effort to avoid Henry, sleep had not come until the wee hours. Instead she’d lain in her berth and stared out the window, wondering why Emmett had instructed Henry on where to find her. Why hadn’t Emmett just been honest with her? And why, despite everything that had happened, did she still miss her husband?
“I thought for certain the train had broken down last night,” Henry remarked after the waiter left, interrupting her thoughts.
“Broken down? Why?”
His brow creased. “Didn’t you notice how long we stopped in Martinsburg? It was a few hours, at least.”
She hadn’t noticed. Misery tended to obliterate one’s surroundings. “Was there something wrong?”
“No one would tell me. We just stopped and waited. And when the train did finally start up, the wheels creeped over into Ohio.”
Now that he mentioned it, the train did seem to be going rather slowly. Lizzie had never traveled this far west, so she had assumed this to be the normal cross-continental pace. But at least they were moving.
“Have you ridden this direction before?” she asked Henry.
