by Calia Read
The two of them remain very polite, however the tension radiating from Rainey causes me to shift uncomfortably in my seat.
I’ve never been happier to see a train station in my life. But as we collect our tickets and head toward the platform, I realize the small enclosed space and tension isn’t done.
It’s only begun.
We take our seats. I’m not surprised to see that when Rainey sits down, she pointedly drops her handbag and hat onto the seat beside her, and solemnly looks out the window. Sighing, I take the aisle seat beside Leonore.
I stretch my legs out in front of me, preparing for what will be a very, very tense and quiet ride. I’m right about one thing. It’s tense. But sitting beside Leonore, it’s not quiet. Rainey’s momma can discuss shards of grass and make them one of the world’s greatest wonders.
Leonore taps her throat, and winces. Immediately, Rainey takes notice. Her black brows furrow as she leans close. Her and her momma may bicker but her concern is evident. “Is everythin’ okay?”
“I do believe all that talkin’ I did with Matilda caused my voice to become sore.”
“Do you want me to order you some hot tea?”
“Would you, dear?” Leonore asks, her voice becoming more strained by the second.
Rainey stands and goes in search for one of the waiters. Leonore tips her head toward the aisle, and then looks directly at me. “That was an … interestin’ trip,” she says in a clear voice.
I arch a brow. What sore voice?
“It certainly was.”
Leonore continues to stare at me with her solemn eyes. “I don’t care much for travelin’ but I think of Nathalie as a daughter. I would do anythin’ for that sweet girl.”
“I’m glad to hear that. She’s always thought fondly of you, and I know she will need all the support possible as time goes on.”
Almost instantly, Leonore’s eyes tear up. “Losin’ a spouse is certainly difficult.”
Nervously, I look around. I didn’t mean for my words to make her cry. I’ve seen enough tears these past few days to fill the Ashley River, and I don’t want to see more. Leonore gathers her composure, and smiles. If it wasn’t for her glassy eyes, you’d never know she’d been tearful.
“You intend to spend eternity with one another but life has other ideas.”
I nod as though I understand when in reality I don’t. Perhaps, I never will. For as long as I can remember I’ve wanted it that way, and now I’m not so sure …
Leonore tilts her head and looks at me. “Tell me, Livingston do you intend to marry?”
I sit back in my seat and cross my arms. I can’t help but arch a single brow; there’s a reason for her question, and I want to know the direction of this conversation. I’m far too tired and not alert enough for Leonore or her daughter. I lift a shoulder and fix the sleeve of my jacket. “Oh, Mrs. Pleasonton I don’t believe marriage is in my future.”
“That’s what I believed about my Rainey before she began these …” She pauses, trying to formulate her words. “Before these men began courtin’ her.”
I sit a bit straighter in my seat. “That so?”
She nods. For a woman with a sore throat she’s remarkably talkative.
“People have always said you and Raina have a brother and sister bond, but I never agreed.” She stares straight ahead, a faraway look in her eyes. “When she was born you were not impressed with her.” She smiles softly. “Of course you weren’t. You were only a child yourself. But when Miles left the room you reached out and wrapped your hand around her small one. I don’t think either of you have let go ever since, have you?”
Her words cause a shiver to rock through me. I hold Leonore’s gaze, reminding myself to appear indifferent. I smile at her. “I suppose one might consider us close when we’re not bringin’ one another agony.”
“That may be true, but I think we show the best and worst parts of ourselves to the people who love us the most.”
“Here you go, Momma,” Rainey interrupts, holding a teacup with steam rising from the top.
At once, Leonore places a hand against her throat and winces as though every swallow since Rainey’s been gone has been agony. “Thank you, dear. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Oh, I believe you would manage,” Rainey mutters beneath her breath.
“Maybe for a day here of there, but I would notice your absence; you’re all I know.” Leonore smiles at her daughter and takes a sip of tea, as she lowers the teacup she gives me a pointed look.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Livingston
Where is love born from?
Does it take a second of direct eye contact? Or is it an accumulation of innocuous moments that start the fire?
I’ve looked at this question from all angles, and I still don’t have a definite answer. There’s a possibility I’ll spend the rest of my life searching for the answer.
But I need an explanation now because I don’t know if I can take being in this purgatory for much longer.
My footsteps feel as heavy as my heart as I walk toward the front door of Belgrave.
There’s no headache to mock me over the previous night’s actions. I’m clearheaded. Didn’t have a drop to drink. I knew alcohol would only incite me to make my way out of my house, toward Rainey’s. I cannot be trusted around her.
Right now, she’s hurt. She made that abundantly clear at Brignac House. It’s only been a day since we came back from Savannah, but the urge to see her is overpowering. However, when she’s hurt, she needs time to herself. But I need to explain my feelings before it’s too late. Yet this situation is beyond me. I’ve spent nearly my entire adult life escaping the clutches of love, only to fall right into its possession and now I don’t know what to do.
I hesitate at the threshold of Belgrave. I grew up here, and I’m questioning whether I should enter or knock. At the last second, I decide to knock. Rainey might be here and as badly as I want to see her, I don’t want to see any more pain in her eyes.
Surprisingly, the person who greets me on the other side is Serene. Her eyes widen momentarily before they narrow. She stares at me as though I’m the bane of her existence.
“Oh, it’s you,” Serene states with no emotion.
“Yes.”
With my nephew held tightly in her arms, I swear he’s grown since I’ve seen him last. They’ve even begun to call him by his middle name, too. It suits him.
Serene peeks around me as though she’s searching for someone. “You’re by yourself.”
“Yes,” I repeat.
Serene pats my nephew’s back in repeated, motherly gestures, while maintaining the blaze of fury in her eyes. “A smarter man would have showed up with support. You know … witnesses.”
“Well, I never claimed to be smart.”
At that, Serene snorts, and looks me up and down. “What did you do to Rainey?”
The color drains from my face. One day. Just one day is all it took for Serene to get the truth from Rainey. But how much of the truth was she able to get? As angry and hurt as Rainey might be with me, I can’t see her telling Serene everything because if she did, I wouldn’t be alive and Serene would be feasting on my insides for betraying her friend.
I feign indifference and brush past my sister-in-law. “I was a gentleman, and escorted Mrs. Pleasonton and Rainey, so I’m baffled as to why you’re askin’ if I did anythin’.”
Serene snorts and follows me. “Yeah right. And I’m a wilting wallflower.”
Her sarcasm isn’t lost on me. “Has it ever occurred to you that Rainey’s the dangerous one?” I ask without bothering to look at Serene.
She scoffs at my question. “Impossible. You did something, and you need to fess up.”
I lift a brow and look over my shoulder. “What did Rainey tell you?”
“That the two of you had a difficult conversation in Savannah. But it’s obvious you upset her.”
My eyes briefly close. If Serene
wanted to drive the knife deeper into my chest, she succeeded. It’s agony not speaking with Rainey. Even when I was in France I wrote to her, and she always wrote back. Without fail.
Rainey was loyal, fearless, and beautiful. To have something so firm and solid ripped out of my life so abruptly makes me feel as if I’m drowning.
“Now talk to me, or I’ll make you change Trace’s next diaper,” Serene continues, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I once changed Alex’s diaper and nearly passed out from the smell. The fear of encountering something like that ever again makes me speak. “Rainey told me she loved me while we were in Savannah. I didn’t say it back.”
“You said nothing?”
“Well, she might have overheard me tell Nat that I could never love someone like her, and that was a lie. I didn’t mean it! But I didn’t tell Rainey that.”
Serene is ominously silent, staring at me as though I’ve spoken a different language. Then, she springs into action and whacks me upside the head. “You idiot!”
“I realize that! That’s why I’m here!”
Sighing, Serene steps back and shakes her head. The frustration drains from her features, but I’d prefer if it didn’t. This means she’s running out of hope. “Oh, Livingston.”
“What do I do to make this better?”
“Oh, no, no, no, no.” Serene laughs and shakes her head. “This is something you need to figure out yourself. And didn’t you once tell me to remind you to never listen to my ideas?”
“I was a fool. Now, help me.”
Serene’s smile fades. “Livingston, I can’t,” she says gently. “And neither can Étienne. Listen, contrary to what you exhibit to the world, and your party boy ways, you’re a pretty smart guy, and I believe if you thought over this carefully, you’d figure it out.” Serene bites down on her lower lip and looks away, as though she’s knows something.
Apprehension fills me. “What?”
“I know I shouldn’t tell you this, but you should know the bachelors have been relentless since she came back from Savannah.”
“When have they not been relentless?”
“True,” she slowly concedes. “But this time it’s different. It’s as if they know you and Rainey aren’t spending time together anymore.” My heart quickens with alarm for what she’s about to say. “And there’s one bachelor Rainey’s expressed interest in since your return.”
“Who?”
“I cannot tell you.”
“Why not?” I demand.
“Because it’s none of your business. Because you hurt her and maybe this man can make her happy.”
Perhaps truer words have never been spoken but they’re lost on me because the thought of Rainey with another man sends me into a blind rage. Things are in utter shambles there’s no denying that. But Rainey is connected to me.
With my hands on my hips I begin to pace. All the faces of the men I saw the first day Rainey brought them to Belgrave flash through my head. “No, no, no. It’s none of my concern. I don’t care,” I say aloud.
Abruptly, I turn to Serene and snap my fingers. “It’s Beau Legare isn’t it?”
Serene quirks a brow. “He’s not one of the final men.”
Dammit, I should know this. I saw them at the blasted picnic. But I wasn’t speaking to them, I was staring at Rainey, and playing a war of words with her. “Hiscock!” I blurt.
Serene tilts her head. “Who?”
“Taylor,” I amend.
“The dude who doesn’t want his wife farting? We crossed him off the list.”
I rub my fingers against my lower lip and remain in deep concentration. For the next several minutes, I deliver a barrage of names Serene’s way. Serene shakes her head, chuckling at a number of the names.
Soon, I give up the fight and throw my hands in the air. “I don’t care,” I repeat not for the first time.
“Clearly,” Serene murmurs. And then she leans in with an excited smile, and whispers, “I think we may have a love match.”
I rear back as though I’ve been punched in the stomach. “Like hell,” I mutter.
Turning on my heels I walk out of Belgrave. I realize then that this obsession will never fade. She could dance with every eligible bachelor she desires and have dinner with them all until she could eat no more. She could even decide to marry one of the many men at her disposal. But I would destroy this Earth looking for her. I would rip every house from The Battery to Ashley River inside out trying to find a way to be with her.
Just to have a moment with her.
She is the phantom echo of the heart I once had before everything changed.
The amount of love she has for me is irrelevant because every part of me beats for her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Rainey
“Of all the things I thought that would interest you, I didn’t think this would be it.”
I look at Conrad from the corner of my eye before I continue to stare at the endless blue water in front of me. “I am a woman with many unique interests.”
“I could not agree more.”
I was prepared for Conrad to take me to lunch or to the park. Instead, he parked alongside The Battery. He guided us onto one of the main docks toward a smaller boat and asked if I wanted to go fishing. It sounded refreshing and impulsive and the very thing I needed in my life. I took his hand and stepped onto the boat.
I was hesitant of how the time would pass, but surprisingly, I get to know Conrad a bit more away from the constraints of Charleston society. He’s far less suave and more human than I thought.
“I didn’t know you had a boat,” I blurt.
“I don’t. This boat belongs to a friend of the family. They like to go crab fishin’ on occasion.”
The boat moves in rhythm to the waves, and the scent of pluff mud greets my nose for a millisecond before it disappears. It’s been like that since we stepped onto the boat. High tide was two hours ago, but the wind has picked up. There’s a probable rainstorm on the horizon. If you’re not prepared, the scent of pluff mud can be rather pungent and knock you off your feet. I’m immune to it. The dark-brown miasma is a Lowcountry essential that brings character to all my memories. However, it isn’t precisely what you want to smell during an outing with someone you’re attempting to get to know better.
I could picture Livingston shaking his head and leaning into me so he could whisper into my ear.
“Why would he go crab fishin’ at such an hour? You know how to pick ’em, le savauge.”
I find myself looking to my left as though he’s there. I’m going mad.
“My brother and I fancied ourselves fisherman,” I blurt.
I stare at the fishing pole held between my hands feeling the weight of Conrad’s eyes. I’m sure he’s shocked by my confession. He has spent most of the time talking about himself, which I’ve enjoyed. I’ve told him very little about myself, so I continue and ignore the pain I feel in my heart as best as possible.
“Although, when we didn’t have fishin’ rods, we would use a fishin’ net and repeatedly circle it through the water in hopes a fish would swim right into the net.”
“And did you ever catch one with the net?” Conrad asks in a jovial tone.
I fix my gaze onto the water and smile softly. “Every so often, yes.”
I’m being selective with the story. Telling him bits and pieces, because the truth is, Livingston and Étienne are part of that memory. And Livingston was the one to teach me how to use the fishing net. He told me patience was the key. “You’re in the fish’s terrain. Give yourself some time before you pull away. The fish will come to you.”
Livingston was right. With that fishing net, I caught many fish. Each time Livingston would grab the fish, he would cup them between his hands and ask if we should let them go. I always said yes and would never have anything to show for my efforts, but Livingston and I knew. Perhaps that’s why the memory hurts. Because not only is my brother there, but so is Livingston.
An angry heart beats the hardest. It will cause words to pour from your lips. Words you never knew you were harboring. Strength grows inside you until your hands shake and your breath becomes choppy.
An angry heart is remarkably dangerous.
But now? Now I feel a numbness throughout me. I’ve lost enough people in my life to recognize I’m still in shock.
When I returned to Charleston three days ago, I began to nurse my broken heart like a bird tending to a broken wing. I haven’t seen or spoken to Livingston once. I have no disillusions in his absence. I made my desires of what I want out of life clear for him, and in turn, Livingston made it clear he didn’t want the same. What more was there to say?
Naturally, Serene has taken over everything pertaining to the bachelors and the impending ball. Her wisecracks never ceased to put a smile on my face. More than once, I had to stop myself from asking about Livingston. As hurt as I was, I still wanted to know his whereabouts and if he missed my presence as much as I missed his. But Serene and I cautiously avoid the subject of Livingston. I got the sense Serene wanted to touch on the topic, but she didn’t know how. I almost wanted her to bring him up because then I could ask her if she could help me try to understand where everything went wrong. Was it Livingston that changed, or did I?
You foolish girl, you already know the answer. Not once did Livingston ever change. You did.
I’m the one who fell in love and expected him to embrace the change. I wanted him to accept my love.
There are moments I regret what I said. I lost so much. We would look at one another, and there was no need for words. We already knew what the other was thinking.
I missed that so much. I missed him so much.
But I couldn’t regret saying how I felt. It was akin to a secret, and secrets will suffocate you.
“Have you made your choice?” Conrad asks after a beat of silence.
“I’m in the process.”
Conrad becomes silent. “Will you make a choice?”
I appreciate honesty and try to give the same in turn as much as possible. “Absolutely.”
