His father’s graying brow raised. “If you refuse, you will find yourself very much alone. No future. No family. Nothing.”
Ella thought for some time about what Lizzy had said about not forcing Mary’s suspicions to come to light. However, she had heard from Phillip’s own lips that he had killed his father. That he drank to forget what he had done. Surely if Ella encouraged him to talk about it, Phillip might well find himself set free.
She went into her last routine for the night, performing a variety of acrobatic circus tricks atop a team of four horses with Jessie and Debbie. Jessie was the taller and larger of the trio, while Debbie and Ella were petite and blond. It stood to reason that Jessie acted as an anchor for most of their tricks.
For their last number, Jessie rode the team around the track they’d set up. One by one, Debbie and Ella leapt onto the back of the outside horses and made their way across the team, doing a series of jumps and flips. Ella found it exhilarating to perform. She thrilled to the cheers of the audience and enjoyed their gasps at the dangers.
At one point, Debbie took one of the outside horses and Ella took the other while Jessie continued with her two. They jumped the horses over progressively taller obstacles, to the crowd’s delight. When they came back together, Ella and Debbie returned the horses to Jessie’s guidance and began their full acrobatic act.
By the time they finished, the audience was clapping and cheering as wildly as if they were Americans. Ella beamed a smile and waved as they circled the arena. She and Debbie had climbed up Jessie’s side, secured only by a foothold at Jessie’s padded waist, and taken each other’s hands. Stretching their remaining limbs out as far to the sides as they could, they held the pose and rode around the arena to the approval of the audience.
Phillip was there to take the horses from them after the performers had completed their final parade to end the evening. The crowds seemed to love that instead of just waving the American flag as she stood atop Thoreau, Lizzy also waved the Union Jack. Wes took the flags from her one at a time, then waited for Lizzy to dismount.
“You all did so well tonight. Oliver will be pleased to hear about it,” Jason declared as the performers gathered. “The show was sold-out, and we were even asked to consider doing an extra performance on Sunday.”
“We can discuss that later,” Wes replied. “Right now everyone is exhausted. I think it’s more important we get our things put away and load up for the trip back to your estate. Unless you’ve changed your mind about staying in town.”
“No. We have three days until the next show. It’ll be far more restful for the horses to have the freedom of the pasture. Not to mention that it will be more relaxing for the performers as well.”
“And I will be better able to keep an eye on Uncle Oliver,” Lizzy said.
Ella watched as the trio walked away. She saw Phillip leading the Roman team from the arena and hurried to catch up with him.
“How are you feeling, Phillip?”
“Fit as a fiddle.” He threw her a lopsided smile. “I don’t know about you, but I’ll be glad to get back to America.”
“It shouldn’t be long now. Were you at breakfast when Mr. Adler announced that the Expo is going to continue despite what happened?”
“I wasn’t there, but I got the news. I suppose it might change if the president dies. I heard from Wes that it doesn’t look promising. Getting gut shot is never good.”
“No, I don’t suppose so.” Ella pulled off the feathered headpiece she wore for her act. “I can’t imagine getting shot anywhere would be a good thing.”
“No,” Phillip said, shaking his head.
They walked toward the horse stalls in the chilled night air. Ella didn’t know how to bring up what was on her heart, but then Phillip saved her from having to figure it out.
“I want to thank you again for getting me out of jail. I wish you hadn’t had to involve Mr. Adler, but it seems he’s been true to his word. No one has said anything to me about what happened.”
“Phillip, you can’t let it happen again. The risk is too great. The constables didn’t want to let you go. If Jason’s family didn’t wield the power they do, you would still be there.”
“I know.”
He looked so remorseful that Ella could hardly continue. The last thing she wanted to do was make him feel bad, but she needed to know the truth. She glanced around to make sure no one else was near.
“Phillip,” she finally murmured, “did you really kill your father?”
He stopped mid-step and looked at her with eyes wide and mouth open.
Ella immediately felt guilty for bringing up such a painful topic, but she couldn’t stop now. “I promise it doesn’t matter to me, but I think you’d feel much better discussing it.”
“Did I say that?” he asked after several long seconds of silence.
She nodded. “When I asked you the other night why you drank. You told me you did it to forget, and when I pressed, you said it was to forget that you had killed your father.”
With a small jerk, Phillip turned to the horses and appeared to focus on getting them ready for their trip back to the Adler estate. But Ella could see his mind wasn’t on it.
“Phillip, I don’t care what you’ve done in the past. God can forgive anything if you ask Him.”
“God is in the forgiving business, but people aren’t. People have a hard time forgiving.”
“If you’re worried about your brother or the Brookstones, I’m sure you needn’t. They’ll forgive you . . . of that I’m certain.”
Phillip shook his head. His expression was so sorrowful that Ella reached out to touch his arm.
“I know they’ll forgive,” she insisted. “I forgive you—no matter what you’ve done.”
“That’s real sweet of you, Ella, but it doesn’t matter.” He shook his head again. “I can’t forgive myself.”
eighteen
Chris woke with a start. He’d had the nightmare again. He could still see his father’s scowling face sneering at him through the bars of the jail as he awaited his execution. Chris had wrestled with his conscience ever since finding out that his father and brothers were sentenced to die, and had finally given in to go see them and make whatever kind of peace he could.
“You grew up to be the disappointment I thought you’d be,” his father had snarled.
Chris had known a void all of his life where his father should have been. Even when he was very young, his mother would hide and protect him from this man—this vicious savage who hated everything and everyone.
“I may be a disappointment,” Chris had replied, “but I’m the one on the outside of the bars.”
His father had laughed and told him he had no use for Chris unless he had a means to get him out of jail.
Chris, hoping to hurt the old man as much as he had hurt his son, had smiled. “I wouldn’t help you even if I could.”
The words had come out of his mouth before he realized it. It was probably the only thing he’d ever said that his father could respect.
The older man had stared at Chris for a moment, then shrugged. “I have no use for you then. Guard! Get him out of here,” his father had commanded.
The guard had come and escorted Chris from the room. “Do you still want to see your brothers?” he had asked.
Chris figured since he’d come this far, he might as well see it through. “Show me the way.”
The reaction of his two younger brothers had actually been somewhat rewarding. Ray and Tom had told Chris how glad they were that he’d not gone the same way they had. They were sorry to be losing their lives and wished they’d made different choices. Chris had few memories of them, but they shared several they had of him. It was like wiping a spot on a frosted window to peek into the house of strangers. The scenes they painted were interesting, but Chris had no memories or connection to them.
The last person he’d seen was his oldest brother, Luke. Luke was just like their father—hard and bitte
r through and through. He didn’t care at all that Chris had come to say good-bye. As far as he was concerned, he had no brother named Christopher.
“You might as well leave before the hangin’,” his brother had told him. “Ain’t gonna be anything like you think. It’ll damage your delicate sensibilities.”
He’d been right on one account. The hanging hadn’t been like anything Chris expected. There was nothing dignified about seeing a man put to death—especially hanged.
Chris pushed back the down-filled quilt and got out of the luxurious bed. He had known similar luxury most of his life, but the Adlers were definitely higher up the social ladder than his grandmother had been. They were English, after all, and Henry Adler’s father had been an earl. Adler’s family were friends with Queen Victoria’s family—both immediate and extended. It was even expected that Henry would receive some form of title—most likely only for his lifetime and not one that could be passed to Jason. But even so, a title was a title, and with Adler’s financial and business successes on both sides of the Atlantic, he would no doubt make the best of it.
The valet assigned to Chris appeared from the dressing room. “Good morning, sir. I have your bath ready and your clothes laid out.”
Chris had enjoyed a valet’s services when he lived with his grandmother, but it was hard to get used to the idea again. Once free of someone shadowing him, Chris found that he didn’t like having servants. He wanted privacy most of the time, and servants meant always having someone listening in.
“Thank you, Brumston. It’s much appreciated.”
“Will there be anything else, sir?”
“No. Feel free to go see to Mr. Brookstone’s needs.”
“Very good, sir.” Brumston didn’t have to be encouraged twice. Chris had the feeling the valet didn’t like having American guests from a wild west show, much less that he should have to lower himself to wait upon them.
After a quick bath, Chris dressed and made his way downstairs. He was happy to find Mary and Lizzy just sitting down to breakfast. He was even happier to see that they’d chosen the end of the table closest to the fireplace, which glowed with a large blaze.
“Ladies, good morning. How pretty you are today.”
They both looked up and smiled, but Lizzy spoke first. “Might we return the compliment?” She looked to Mary, who nodded.
“You look dashing in that navy wool.”
“Yes, well, with the chill the air has had, I needed the extra warmth.” He went to the buffet and helped himself to the typical breakfast he’d known growing up: grilled tomatoes, poached eggs, sausages, and a rack of toast.
“Mary and I were discussing what to do today,” Lizzy announced. “Since we have a nice break between shows, we wondered if it would be possible to take a little side trip.”
“To where?” Chris asked, taking a seat opposite them. He immediately reached for the butter and began to slather his toast. When a servant came offering tea, he nodded. “Yes, please.”
“What do you suggest? We only have a short time before we leave for home.”
“Let’s see. You’ve been to Parliament and Westminster Abbey,” he said, thinking aloud.
“I really don’t care to do another museum,” Mary said, shaking her head.
“Perhaps we could go into London, and I could take you on a walk around the city. We could enjoy a nice lunch while we’re out and maybe ride on the tourist omnibus. They drive around to the other sights you haven’t seen, like the Tower of London and Tower Bridge.”
“That sounds like fun,” Lizzy admitted. “Just a nice day out to enjoy the sights.”
Chris checked his watch. “After we eat, you ladies can round up all those who wish to come along. I’ll check with Henry Adler and see if he has any other suggestions, and we can plan to leave here in time to catch the train at ten. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” the ladies said in unison.
Jessie and Debbie entered with Ella. They were discussing something about their act, and when Lizzy posed the question about touring London, Ella shook her head. “We want to work on something new for the routine. Debbie had a wonderful idea, and we want to get right to it after breakfast. Phillip and Carson agreed to help, and Alice plans to practice some new tricks for her act.”
“Well, it seems there won’t be as many of us as we thought,” Chris said with a shrug. “It’s no matter. I’m sure we’ll have fun nonetheless.”
“Wes asked me to give you this,” Ella said to Lizzy, handing her a note.
Lizzy read it and shook her head. “It looks like it will be just you and Mary. Wes has plans for us.” She smiled and picked up her teacup. “He says I’m to put on old clothes and good boots. Apparently we’re going on a long hike.”
Mary looked at Chris. “Can we still go?” She looked afraid he might refuse.
“Of course,” he said. “I’m keen to go with you alone or with others.”
She rewarded him with a smile and dug into her breakfast. “Then I’d better finish this so we won’t miss the train.”
A few hours later, after walking for miles around the city, Chris suggested they make their way to one of his favorite places for lunch. It was an out-of-the-way shop that served the best fish and chips a person could buy.
When they reached the counter and placed their order, Chris was delighted by Mary’s surprise when the owner handed her a newspaper cone with the fried fish and potatoes inside.
“How marvelous,” she said, following Chris to a table. “This is charming.”
“And delicious.” He procured some malt vinegar and two mugs of cider before taking the seat beside her at the tiny table.
Mary warmed her hands on her cider mug. “Brrr.” She sampled the beverage and smiled. “This reminds me of my opa’s cider. He makes it every year, and we celebrate Oktoberfest with it instead of beer.”
“I used to join some of my friends here from time to time. We’d play darts and talk politics.” Chris bit into the fish. It was as good as he remembered.
Mary followed suit, picking a piece from the cone and popping it into her mouth. She smiled, her eyes lighting up.
Chris was glad for the time alone with her. He’d enjoyed their afternoon together and found Mary’s company soothing after his nightmares. He wondered what she would think if he told her that his father and brothers were convicted killers who’d been hanged the previous spring. Would she be so eager to venture into the city alone with him? Would she dislike sitting this close together—close enough that their shoulders nearly touched?
“I love London,” Mary said after another sip of cider, oblivious to his concerns. “It’s like a world unto itself. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
He chuckled. “Having seen Kansas farms, I’m sure it’s a far cry from growing up there.”
“It is, of course, but there’s something else. There’s something about being surrounded by all these wonderful old buildings. Even the grand way in which they perform their church services makes me think of kings and queens in glorious castles.”
“Instead of God?” Chris questioned.
She shook her head. “No, along with Him. It’s all formality and pomp. I wouldn’t like it all the time, but it makes me more mindful of God’s glory.” She ate another chip and then shrugged. “It’s a sense of walking in the past, yet moving toward the future. I can’t really explain it.”
“Yet you did, quite eloquently. London has always struck me the same way. Here there is a sense of the old world. Perhaps not as ancient as Rome.”
“You’ve been to Rome?” she asked, looking amazed.
“I have. Grandmother and I traveled quite a bit. When my step-grandfather was alive, he went with us when he could but sometimes had to stay behind. His work for the government kept him busy, and he felt that Grandmother and I should still enjoy ourselves. Each summer he would travel a bit with us and then return to London while we continued.”
“That sounds amazing. So have you been a
ll over the world?” Her excitement was almost contagious.
“I have.” Chris laughed. “Just about every corner. I’ve seen India, Egypt, and all of Europe. I think it’s what brought out the writer in me. I saw the details of each place and the cultures there, and it all begged to be written about. I kept all sorts of journals.”
“I’d love to see them.”
He grinned. “Maybe one day I can show them to you.”
Mary nibbled on a piece of fried potato, then asked, “What do you plan to do after your travel with the show is complete?”
He shrugged. “I can’t really say. I suppose I’ll return to New York and continue to write for the magazine. However, lately I’ve thought about writing a book. Nothing specific, but I’m thinking of the possibilities.”
She turned, and suddenly their faces were only inches apart. “With all the experiences, ah, you’ve had,” she stammered, “I-I think it would make a wonderful book. You know . . . for all the people . . . who can’t travel around the world as you have.”
Chris had considered the idea, but at the moment all he could really think about was Mary and how beautiful she was. She looked equally at ease in the house of a fine family or here at a local pub. There was something enthralling about her, something that made him want to throw caution aside and kiss her.
“Do you trust me?” she asked.
Chris swallowed the lump in his throat. He thought from the look in her eyes that maybe she had read his thoughts.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shock you,” Mary said, eyeing him as if trying to gauge whether to go on. “I’m known for speaking my mind, and that just came out without thought.” Still, she didn’t move.
“I suppose you must have a reason for the question,” Chris said, trying to force his quickened breath to calm. He found looking away impossible.
“Oh, I do. Oma always told me that people couldn’t be really close . . . friends unless they trusted one another.”
Chris nodded. “I believe that’s true. I suppose the answer to your question is that I do trust you . . . at least as far as our time together has allowed for trust to build. Now, may I ask you an equally bold question?” Neither one seemed to consider moving apart.
Wherever You Go Page 19
