America
For the next month, Julia was treated like a Hollywood movie star. Cal pampered her in every way. He brought her champagne, and asked for the most delectable dishes and desserts for dinner. He took her out riding in the mornings and she loved showing him how the mist rose from the fields and sunlight glistened on dew. They had tea on the lawns under the spreading branches of an oak, while the lawn mowers clacked. In the evenings, they walked through the woods with the estate’s dogs following them. They would return and sit with the terrace doors open to the breeze, drink cocktails, then go up to bed...where the most decadent and naughty things happened. Day by day, Cal healed her from the shock of Bradstock’s attack.
After all the fear and pain that had come before, it filled her with joy to be building this life with Cal at Worthington.
Diana wanted to stay longer at Worthington and she fussed over Julia, and seemed happy with her more sedate life and spending time with David. Julia knew they must take Diana away soon. They did not tell Diana, Cassia and Thalia about John. The Duke of Bradstock never went to trial—he hanged himself, taking his own life, and Cal had not told the police about John’s involvement. In the end, he decided justice had been served by John’s death and he didn’t want to hurt his cousins’ futures.
But the dowager and Cal did not speak to each other. Julia believed the dowager would not hurt Cal by exposing what his mother had done, since Cal had protected John.
A week after the attack, on a morning Cal went out, knowing she was now safe, Julia visited the ladies she was helping. She saw Mrs. Billings, who lived in a cottage alone, now that Mr. Billings had passed on. They had lost all their sons in the Great War and Julia had suggested that one of her widows, a young woman with three children, share Mrs. Billings’s cottage. Mrs. Billings was delighted to have children around her. Julia had also introduced Mr. Toft to a widow of another farm. They were working their farms together. She hoped that in time a romance might take root.
She drove to Lilac Farm, knowing that soon the Brands would be leaving it. They now knew what had happened to Sarah. It had broken their hearts, but Brand had insisted there was peace in knowing the truth. They were to move into a cottage on the estate.
But as she reached the farm, Julia heard a great deal of banging. She followed the sound, and stopped her car on a rise. Below her, men scurried everywhere around all kinds of newfangled equipment. Wood from the sawmill lay in huge stacks. Houses were being built on land that had once been the fields of Lilac Farm.
She quickly drove home. Heart in her throat, she found Cal in his study. “You are building houses? But what about Lilac Farm? The land is needed for the farm.”
He shoved back his golden hair. “It’s sold, Julia. It was the best land to begin building and I received a damn good offer for it. For the Brands, the farm is wrapped up in sad memories. I’m going to take care of them.”
“But...but you never talked to me about this.” She felt numb with shock. “Have you sold more?”
“Yes.”
Then he told her what he had sold. Three farms belonging to families no longer able to farm. Nausea rose in her belly. “How could you?”
He paced on the Aubusson rug in front of the fireplace. “With the money I’ve made on the land, the families are living rent-free in new homes. The children of those families will be sent to school. I’ve seen the squalor of slums. It’s the same here. People live on top of each other while I have acres of underused land.”
She could see the benefit, but still felt fear over such abrupt change. “But you did not talk to me about it.”
“You would have said no. The truth is, Julia, I can’t stay here. The dowager can destroy my mother’s name if she wants and I’ve realized I can live with that. What matters is that I can still hear the condescending sneer in the dowager’s voice. It cost my mother her soul to do what she did. It cost her life. Do you look at me now and see only a man with a mother who whored herself because her boy was too late to protect his father, too late to protect her?”
His words went through her like a blade of ice. The pain in them broke her heart. “I see a man who loved his parents and who would have risked his own life to help them.”
He looked away from her. She saw that—but he didn’t. How could she make him see?
“This place will never be a home to me, Julia,” he said harshly. “What matters is us and not Worthington Park. We can be together anywhere. It doesn’t have to be here.”
Leave and never come back? Then she saw the truth. “Cal, you have to stop running away. You cannot run from your past. You have to heal from it.”
“We could be happy if we were away from here. I want to build a future for us. Don’t you want that?” His golden brows drew down.
“Yes, but I feel we do belong here. You’re angry and you are doing rash things—”
“These changes aren’t rash. My desire to leave here isn’t rash.”
“But when you proposed, you told me you wouldn’t destroy Worthington.”
“So it was the damn estate all along. Julia, do you even love me?”
“Of course I love you.”
“But if I’d been honest, if I told you that Worthington wasn’t part of the deal, you never would have said yes.”
“Honest? Do you mean you lied to me?” Shock hit her.
“Yeah, I lied to you. I made a vow to my mother as she was dying that I would make the Carstairs family pay. How in hell could I ever be lord of this when she had to condemn her soul?” He raked back his hair. “Julia, which do you choose—Worthington or me?”
“This is ridiculous. It should not have to be a choice.” They were echoing the night he had proposed in Paris and she had only the same answer to give.
“It is. For me.”
“Cal, I can’t accept this.” She wanted Cal to find happiness in the same life that she did. And it hurt that he’d lied. Her father had lied to her mother. Mother had found out about all his affairs. His lies had made her desperately unhappy.
“Julia, damn it, tell me which you choose.” He stalked toward the window, his shoulders stiff and tense. “It’s Worthington, isn’t it? You’ll always love it more than me.”
How could she trust anything he told her now? She would always worry about what was unsaid. “Why couldn’t you have been honest?”
He turned. “That night in Paris, would you have said yes if I told you I still wanted to sell Worthington?”
“I—” She wouldn’t have done.
“You would have said no. I can see it in your eyes.”
“I am not to blame for this!” she cried. “Cal, Worthington is my place in the world. It is where I belong. I once thought love was all that mattered in marriage. But you’ve shown me I was wrong. Love is meaningless without one thing—honesty.”
“Hell—” He broke off. “Julia, I’ve never been honest with you. What Bradstock told you about me was true. He may have been a vicious killer, but he was right about that. That’s what Kerry O’Brien was going to give you. All the rotten details of my past. You’re right—you deserved honesty. And you deserve better than a man like me.”
Then he was gone. He walked right out of the room, walking past her.
She shook with pain. He’d lied to her from the very beginning. She didn’t know how to fix this. She didn’t know how to stop feeling sick with betrayal. Or how to stop what he was doing to Worthington.
For all her training to be a lady and to handle any situation, she felt powerless. Brokenhearted. Afraid.
* * *
Cal did not come down for dinner. Nor did he come to her room that night. The next morning, she marched upstairs and pushed open the door to his room. A modern woman would sort this out.
But the bed was smooth and a sheaf of white paper sat in the middle of it. Her heart stuttered when she saw her name at the top. It was a letter written from Cal.
I don’t even know how to write this. I’m no good at putting things into words.
I made a vow, a promise, when my mother died. Mam told me to forgive the old earl. I told her she was worthy of justice. When the dowager looked down on Mam, it made me almost choke in my guilt, so I think I was lying to myself when I thought I sold the land for good reasons. I did it in anger.
I saw your face when I admitted that most of the things Bradstock told you were true. I did run with the Five Points Gang. It was work with them or be targeted by them. My mother told me to stand up for what I believed in, but in the end, I wanted the money. That was a lot easier to live with when I was a young, arrogant thug than it is now. I never expected that.
I’m sorry I lied to you about Worthington. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my past. I knew I would lose you if you knew the truth about me.
So I’m gone. As my aunt said, I’m not fit for decent society.
I said I don’t believe in curses, but my mam did. If there’s a curse on you, Julia, it’s me.
I’m going to London first to meet with the solicitors. Worthington Park will be yours. The title is entailed, so is the estate, but I could sell it for debts. So I’m taking out a big loan in your name, then I’ll have the lawyers draw up the papers for you to foreclose.
The estate is yours. You are the sole owner.
I guess you changed me because I want Worthington to survive. You can make that happen. There’s no one else I would trust with the estate. You called it “your place in the world.” I would never take that away from you, Sheba.
I love you with all my heart, Julia. I’ll come back in a few months and if you want me gone, I’ll give you a divorce. I’m sorry if I caused you pain.
That’s what I’m good at. The only thing I’ve done well, except for painting, is hurting people. And I can’t paint now. It’s all garbage, what I’m putting on the canvas. Now that I don’t have your love, I can’t seem to paint right.
You were my muse. I was right about that. It’s killing me to leave, but it’s the right thing.
Yours regretfully,
Cal
For a long while, she held the note, staring blankly at it.
Then, out of the small cupboard in the bedside table, she took out Cal’s bottle of fiery whiskey. She poured some into a tumbler and walked back into her bedroom as Zoe walked in.
“What is that?” Zoe asked.
Julia took the tiniest sip. “Gah!”
Zoe’s brows rose. “Julia, what on earth are you drinking?”
“Irish whiskey.” She had literally just touched her tongue to the stuff and shuddered. Yet the burning sensation after was rather pleasant. “Cal says this drink relaxes him. I was hoping to discover that was true for me, as well. Would you like some?”
“No, thank you, I shouldn’t. Besides, I much prefer cocktails. That’s the only way hard liquor is palatable. But why are you drinking?”
Julia lifted the glass to take another sip, but her eyes watered. Perhaps the promise of feeling less upset wasn’t worth the price of drinking this. “My husband has left me.”
“What?”
She gave Zoe the letter. She adored her sister-in-law, and Zoe’s business acumen had made her wise in other ways, as well.
Suddenly, the urge to cry overwhelmed her. Julia set down the glass and sobbed. Zoe embraced her. She cried and cried. Then sucked in a deep breath in an unladylike way. “I’m sorry. Falling into disarray is not something I do lightly.”
“Disarray? Julia, your silly husband has gone away. You have the right to be upset.” Zoe sighed. “Marriage can be so annoying. That was why I wanted to be independent. Fortunately I discovered the blessings of marriage outweigh the times when you’d like to bean your husband over the head.”
Julia laughed—Zoe had taught her to not restrict herself to ladylike smiles—but almost as quickly she felt like crying again. “It’s so complicated. He lied to me and he didn’t tell me about his past. He was a mobster, apparently. I don’t know what he did, but it sounds as if it was terrible. I wish he would have talked to me instead of leaving.”
“I went through the same problems with your brother, Julia. He wouldn’t tell me what caused his shell shock.”
“But you convinced him to tell you. And you both worked together to heal him. Cal has just...left. I should be angry with him for doing that. But I know he did it because he believes he is doing it for me. He gave Worthington to me.”
She had made him see how important Worthington was. But this was not the outcome she’d hoped for. “He asked me if I chose Worthington or him. I couldn’t answer then—I was too shocked and angry that he was asking me to choose. But I choose him. And now it’s too late.”
And just like that, the tears began again.
She’d cried buckets for Anthony when she’d learned he’d been killed. She had not cried when Ellen had been hurt—she’d been too outraged. She had cried when Mrs. Toft had died in childbirth. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I am crying so much. I feel rather sick—”
Zoe plucked the glass of whiskey out of Julia’s hand. “I know why it is. You are pregnant, dear.”
Could it be true? Could she be...enceinte? She’d been married just over a month.
“You’re a married woman, and nausea and tears are two signs that you might be having a baby, Julia. We must go to London to see a specialist. But first, you must go for breakfast. Now is not the time to not eat. I’m sure Cal will come back.”
“In months, he has said.” She wanted him there, to share her news with him. But she went down for breakfast with Zoe as their guest—where David, Diana, Cassia and Thalia were in the dining room. They did not need to know Cal had gone. But Cassia asked if it was true that he had left for America.
“Wiggins told our lady’s maid that Cal ordered his trunk be brought down from the attic,” Diana said. “And he saw the tickets for the Olympic, lying out on Cal’s bedside table. He is sailing for New York. But there was only one ticket.”
“He has gone to New York City. For a visit,” she lied. “He left me in charge of the estate.”
Diana’s eyebrows lifted. “Is more of the estate going to be sold?”
“No. Worthington Park is safe now. I promise.” And in a soft voice, she said to Diana, “I will take you to Paris as soon as I can.”
But Diana shook her head. “I—No—Julia, it’s so complicated.” Diana got up and left and Julia understood the rush of painful emotions she must be feeling.
After breakfast, Zoe left and Julia walked through the corridors. She was supposed to run Worthington but all she could think of was Cal. She saw David in the library, gazing at a shelf out of his reach. She hurried in, fetched the book he wanted, handing it to him.
“Thank you,” he said shyly. Then, “Julia, there’s something I need to ask you. Maybe you’ll think I’m crazy, too. Cal would. But I want to do it.”
“What is it?”
“I know Diana is expecting. I know her beau let her down—Cal told me. I want to ask Diana to marry me. Cal settled a lot of money on me when he made his fortune. I can’t give her a title, but I can give her a nice house. I know I’m not a catch without my legs—”
“David, you are a true gentleman, a hero and a good man.” Julia’s heart wobbled. She was so touched. But then, practicality set in. “But Diana...may still be in love with this man, even though he is utterly useless. I don’t know what she will say.”
“I can hear ‘no.’ But I want to try.”
“Then I do hope, with all my heart, that she says yes.”
After she left him, she found Diana. A lady would never leave such a thing to chance. “Could I speak to you for a moment? In the morning room, perhaps?”
Diana’s loose dress floated around her as they went into the morning room and Julia carefully closed the door. A lady got to the point when it was necessary. “Diana, David has fallen in love with you and he intends to ask for your hand in marriage.”
“David—marriage?”
“Yes. He adores you. He has accepted that you will be reluctant to marry him because he has lost his legs in the War. It happened in the most heroic way possible—he was saving the lives of other men. Be gentle when you refuse him. Be as kind as you can. He is a very good man.”
“Julia, I’m not going to gently refuse David Carstairs.”
“Diana, please—”
“I’m going to accept him. Could you tell him that, so he will get the courage to ask me?”
“Diana, please don’t do it just because you need a marriage. He deserves much more—”
“Julia, sometimes you are terrible. You are completely insulting me. You really think I’m not capable of loving him, don’t you? Why—because he was wounded in battle? I do love him. He knows about my child and offered to help me with money. I said I couldn’t ask that of him. He is a good man. He knows the worst about me—all my horrible sins—and he doesn’t condemn me for them. David says that when he sees me in the morning, it is as if he has awoken to a perfect day. He made me see there is more to life than a title, than being mistress of a large house that is really an empty home.”
Julia jerked. That was what she was—mistress of a vast house that now felt empty, when what she had wanted more than anything was happiness.
“I will tell him. I will tell him right away.” Julia clasped Diana’s hands. “I would love to know you two are going to be married, before I go away.”
“Where are you going?”
“America.”
* * *
New, sleek, renowned for its speed, the Athena was like no ship Julia had ever seen. Everything was clean glass, polished silver metal, smooth lines. Her stateroom was done in white and black, crisp and striking. There were no frilled velvets, no Italianate smoking rooms and staterooms designed to look like fussy Victorian rooms in an English manor. Here the lines were streamlined, promising a voyage to a new, thrilling world.
Julia had been startled that even Nigel approved of her pursuing Cal. Cassia had taken command of her work with the widows while she traveled with Zoe and Nigel, along with Nicholas and his nurse They intended to visit Zoe’s mother in New York, as Mrs. Gifford was thrilled to see her grandson and to know Zoe was expecting again.
Over dinner in the dining room with a modern silver-and-white ceiling, she said, “Cal gave me Worthington to keep it safe. I’ve realized this is my place in the world—to fight for important things that I believe in. And I believe in Cal. More than he believes in himself. But can I convince him to come back with me? He said he is not worthy of me. I don’t know how to make him see that isn’t true.”
“Go to him. And you will find a way,” Zoe said, with all her modern confidence.
“You’re right, Julia. This is where you belong,” Nigel said. “Taking charge suits you.”
* * *
Julia was nervous until the day they docked. She stood at the railing, breathless. The city rose out of the water like something magical, with buildings that scraped the sky.
Once they disembarked, they hired a car. Zoe drove, as she knew the city well. David had given Julia the address of the house they used in New York. It was outside the city, in a place called “Great Neck” on Long Island Sound. Where wealthy people went to summer.
It felt like they had plunged into the country. Green trees shimmered lushly against the blue sky. Fields stretched around her and in the middle sat quaint clapboard farmhouses with large porches.
The roads became narrower and they got lost. Stumbling upon a house, Julia got directions from the butler who answered the door, who was quite stunned when she introduced herself as the Countess of Worthington. She learned that the roads and railways were kept deliberately in disrepair to discourage the city people from flocking to the area in the spring and summer.
Following the directions, their Chrysler motorcar pulled into a long drive. Julia put her hands over her mouth as the mansion came into view.
“This belongs to Cal?” Nigel stared.
The large mansion followed the curving drive, giving views of the grounds from all directions. It was white as snow, striking with black shutters and a large black front door. Two large wings branched off the main portion of the house. From the drive, as they neared the house, they could see the gray crashing waves of the ocean beyond. The house stood at the end of a spit of land that bravely pushed out into the sea.
“I had no idea Cal had the money to buy this,” Julia whispered. Coming to Worthington Park had not been so much of a shock to him. He hadn’t told her the whole truth about his wealth.
Nigel stopped the car and Julia didn’t wait for any servants to appear. She got out and rapped on the front door. The door opened, and she got to shock another butler with the announcement of her title.
“Is my husband in?” she asked. Her heart hammered—she didn’t know for certain he’d come here. He could have traveled anywhere. Even left America by now.
She could have laughed with joy and relief when the butler bowed. “The master is in his study, madam.”
“My lady,” Zoe corrected cheekily.
Then Zoe squeezed Julia’s hands. “Go and see Cal.” To the butler, she said, “My husband and I would like to wait in another room.”
“Allow me to show you the drawing room that overlooks the Sound, madam.”
“That is the Duchess of Langford,” Julia pointed out. “I’m afraid you address her as ‘Your Grace.’ It is rather complicated, but I know you’ll get the hang of it.”
His jaw dropped so fast he almost had to catch it in his hands. Julia had him point her toward Cal’s study. At first, she walked there like a lady. Then she couldn’t wait and she ran.
Her shoes clicked on the gleaming marble tile and skimmed across beautiful carpet. She knocked on the white paneled door to the study.
“Come in.”
She felt a sharp jolt of delight at the sound of his voice. She gently pushed open the door. He stood by his window, looking out at the lawns and the white-capped gray waves of the sea.
“What is it?” he asked brusquely.
“Hi, Cal,” she said, as casually and jauntily as she could.
He spun around and he staggered backward as he saw her. A tumbler with a small amount of dark gold liquid fell out of his hand. “Julia?”
“You’ve dropped your—”
She broke off as he gripped her around the waist and lifted her in his arms. His mouth covered hers, in a hot kiss that could have made the cold ocean water boil.
Julia had feared he might not want to see her or he might be determined to keep distance between them even when they were in the same room. But he pulled her so close there wasn’t any space between her breasts and belly and his hard body.
“Julia, why are you here? Here in America?”
“I’ve come after you, Cal. I’m chasing you in a bold, brash, modern way. And you’ve dropped your drink.”
His blue eyes went large with disbelief. “You came across an ocean for me? You shouldn’t have done. If you wanted to see me, Sheba, all you had to do was telephone and I would have swum the ocean for you. You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. The truth is, I’m not worth it.”
“Cal, I know you are. And I enjoyed taking charge and traveling across the ocean for my very first time.”
He set her down, cupped her cheek. “Before you say I’m worth it, you need to know the truth about me, my muse. You need to know where I’ve come from and what I’ve done.”
* * *
With the fabric top up on his 1924 Rolls, Cal drove into the city, making his way to the area where he’d grown up. He drove through streets that still cried of squalor, where the stink of industry and the smell of sewage rolled up the streets from the river.
He didn’t look at Julia. Didn’t need to see her to know what she must be thinking.
“This is where you grew up?”
“Yes,” he said abruptly. “The neighborhood is known as Hell’s Kitchen.”
“Hell’s Kitchen. That’s a curious name. Was it because of the heat in the summer?”
He gave a hard laugh. “No one agrees on where the name came from. A reporter from the New York Times called one of the tenements ‘Hell’s Kitchen,’ back in the 1880s. It’s at 39th Street and Tenth Avenue. The reporter went there to write a story on a multiple murder and called it the lowest and filthiest place in the city. Or some say the name came from a veteran police officer who was watching a riot with a rookie copper. The rookie calls the place ‘hell itself,’ and the veteran says, ‘Hell’s a mild climate. This is Hell’s Kitchen.’”
Cal stole a glance, expecting to see her look disgusted. “I should have known,” he muttered.
“What?”
“You’re too much of a lady to show your shock on your face.” It came out angrier than he’d intended. “I want to see it—don’t hide it. Hiding it means you pity me.”
He stopped the car on the road outside the sagging, worn, mean-looking walk-up tenement in which he’d lived as a boy.
Julia, her lips perfectly slicked in dark red lipstick, her skin glowing like the sheen of silk, looked up beneath the brim of her hat. “I do not pity you. You survived poverty I cannot even imagine and you got out. I admire you and respect you—how could I not respect a self-made man? As someone who inherited her position, her place in her home, I have nothing but intense respect, Cal.”
“Julia, you earned your place in the world, as you call it. I’m a self-made man, but it’s how I made it that you should hate me for. You know, it killed me to leave you—”
She had her hand on the door handle, ready to push the door open. He stopped her. “You aren’t getting out here.”
“I want to look inside. To see your old home.”
“It’s not a home,” he said bitterly. “It was a small, dirty apartment, filled with stink, disease and violence.” He put the car in gear—he hadn’t turned it off in case they had to leave in a hurry. Before he started moving, a boy ran out of the shadows and stroked the smooth, curved fender.
“She’s a beaut, mister,” the boy said.
Cal’s throat tightened. In the boy’s low whistle, he heard himself twenty years ago. In the boy’s look of longing and desire as he cooed over the car, Cal saw his own hunger, when he’d been a boy, to get money and go places.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“I’m Tom.”
On a whim, Cal motioned Tom to come over to his window. He talked to the lad, found out the boy’s father had been a mechanic, but was out of work after the War. “Pa lost his leg, and can’t get any work,” Tom said.
“How terrible,” Julia breathed. “Even here, there isn’t the kindness and care given to the war heroes that should be given.”
“No,” Cal said. “Which is why boys ended up in gangs, fighting for money, fighting to move up in the world.” To Tom, he said, “Tell me where you live. I need a man to fix my engines. I keep a few cars out of the city, and my chauffeur’s leaving me to get married and move out to California. I need a new man. Give me your address, and I’ll come back and talk to your pa. If I think he’s right for the job, there’s a cottage out at my place on Long Island Sound.”
Tom grinned, gave him the address, then took off. He ran up the steps into the open front door of the building.
Cal shook his head. “What are the odds?” he said thoughtfully. “He lives in the apartment I lived in.”
“Will you give his father a job?”
“A missing leg won’t make it impossible for him to tend an engine. That takes a man’s hands and his head. The boy can help him and learn a few things when he’s not in school.”
“This is very good of you.”
“I learned it from you, Julia. The pure, sweet pleasure that comes from helping someone. From changing even one life.”
“Cal...that’s so sweet. Thank you.”
He saw her smile, a smile more radiant than any sunrise, or autumn-leaved forest, or stunning wilderness scene he’d tried to capture on a canvas.
As much as he wanted to turn around and drive away and have Julia, keep her, make sure he never lost her, he knew he had to be honest with her.
* * *
Cal drove away from the sidewalk. Julia reached out and touched his shoulder. More sad apartment buildings flashed by them. She smelled the river, heard a mournful horn.
They were driving toward the tall buildings of the center of Manhattan.
“When I was a kid,” Cal said, “I wanted to make money for my family. I told you my father worked at the docks. He hated the brutality, the intimidating, the thieving. He stood up to the gangs and that got him beaten up. I ended up working for them. First I was running messages and acting as a lookout when they broke into warehouses.”
“But you were just a boy—”
“I knew it was against the law. And I knew it would break my mam’s heart if she knew I’d been helping the gangs. But I needed the money. After Father was killed, I swore I’d never be vulnerable like that. Mam worked as a seamstress in the daytime. Twelve hours a day, every day, she worked in a warehouse with bars over the windows and poor light, worked until she was losing her eyesight. And after she’d slaved all day making clothes, she spent the nights washing dishes at pubs. She worked so hard she got sick. That’s when she got desperate. She feared David and I wouldn’t be able to survive if she couldn’t earn, so she swallowed her pride and wrote to the Carstairs family. She hated that they felt she was nothing. But she kept muttering that they were right and she was nothing because she wasn’t strong enough to look after her boys. She was weak, thin as a tiny bird, because she let David and I have almost all the food. I wouldn’t eat all of mine so she could have some.
“She got sicker, and she lost her jobs. Then she—she sold herself to men for money. I used to hear her cry at night. Some of the men were like the one that beat up Ellen Lambert. They didn’t want sex unless they could use the woman as a punching bag.”
Julia wanted to say something, but saw he needed to talk. So she let him.
“Having to prostitute herself finished her. It ate away at her inside. I wrote to Lady Worthington myself, begging her to help my mother. I hoped for some pity, some shred of kindness. But I didn’t get any. I went back to the Five Points Gang. Then America entered the War and I signed up along with a man I knew, Wild Bill Lovett. When I got out, he was heading up the Jay Street Gang. Prohibition started and I got involved with them and with bootlegging. In war, I’d learned how to kill—”
“Did you—did you do that in the gang?”
“No. I was muscle. I threatened people, collected debts. I never took an innocent life.” They were moving into the tall buildings. “I’m taking you to the Plaza for luncheon. There’s something I’ve got to tell you there.”
“Cal, you don’t have to tell me anything more. I love you, you know.”
They drove down Park Avenue to the Plaza Hotel. Cal stopped there. Cars zipped past them. A cacophony of horns rose around them. Girls strode past on clicking heels.
“I’ll drive you back to Nigel and Zoe if you want, after I tell you this,” Cal said. “I left the Jay Street Gang and started my own enterprise. Bootlegging and fake bonds.” He hung his head. “A member of one of the gangs tried to kill me, to move into my position and get my turf. I had to fight for my life. He stabbed me and I beat him badly. Then he went and got drunk and got hit by a car.”
“That wasn’t your fault,” she said.
“I’d almost beaten him to death, Julia. Rumors started that it was one of my men who ran him down. I don’t think that’s true and I didn’t order it, if it was. Stories grew that I killed people. I didn’t, but that night I had come close to becoming the kind of thug my father hated, the kind of thug who had killed him. I was afraid that next time I might cross the line. I had to fight to succeed without hurting anyone. I got out of crime and spent day and night studying companies so I could invest my money and make enough to look after David.”
“Looking after David is what drove you. You never took anyone’s life. And you got away from crime.”
“That man’s death is on my soul. I pounded him and he likely got drunk to ease the pain. I was sure Mam was turning in her grave over what I was doing. So I went to Paris and tried painting. My dad had taught me how to draw, and he’d brought some paints and pencils from England when he left for good. I found I loved painting, and I guess I could have let it completely heal my soul, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to give up on my desire to get revenge.”
“Do you still want that? I understand if you do—”
“Julia, you crossed an ocean for me. I have to make myself worthy of you. I’m not going to hurt the family. Or destroy the estate. It’s yours, angel, so I can’t do that.”
“You’re helping that young boy. That’s what we should do together. Help people.”
Cal said softly to her, “I used to dream of having a rich man come up and offer me work. Give me a way to escape this place. So maybe I’ve made someone’s dreams come true.”
“You made most of mine come true,” she whispered. “My heart was in bits and pieces and you’ve given me the strength to make it whole. I understand that you can’t see Worthington as a home. Cal, maybe I am too late, but I choose you over Worthington.”
He shook his head. “You were right, Julia. I was always running away. But you can never outrun yourself. I don’t want to run away from the life you want. I know now that I can’t live without you. And, you know, I guess I actually miss Worthington Park.”
She smiled. “Now, let’s go inside, shall we? I have something to tell you.”
“I think we should take a room in there.”
“Really? Whatever for?”
“I want to spend the rest of the day making love to you, Sheba.”
Her heart glowed with joy. “There is something I must tell you, Cal. I believe I am expecting our child. If all goes well, you are going to become a father. And I know you will be the most wonderful father.”
“Julia!” He kissed her senseless. “Then we should go home. Back to Worthington.”
He’d called Worthington home. Her heart soared.
“I don’t want to go home just yet,” she said. “I have a few months—and you promised to show me adventure. I want to travel with you and paint.”
Cal looked stunned. But two months later, Julia drew the paddle of a canoe through crystal-clear water. Liquid dripped with each stroke, forming rings and ripples. The morning sun was rising over the mountains, sending warm light over the lake.
“You’re a great paddler,” Cal said, behind her.
Julia half turned, but carefully—she was still concerned she might tip the canoe. “I feel I’m doing it completely out of synchronization with you.”
“It’s perfect,” he said.
“It is.” She gazed over the water. Yellow and red leaves blazed around the lake. They had traveled by train into Canada, then up into the north of the province of Ontario. For weeks, they had traveled, as summer became fall, and had spent days here in a tent. At night they snuggled together in a sleeping sack.
“You know, you look damn sexy in trousers,” Cal said.
Julia blushed. “I don’t know how women ever did this in skirts.”
“Are you really enjoying this, or is this too rough for you?”
They glided toward a rocky point. A huge fir tree towered there. Julia paused, resting her paddle. “I love this,” she said. “I wasn’t certain I’d love sleeping beneath the stars, but I do.”
Cal steered them to the rocky shoreline and Julia got out, her leather boots balancing on the uneven rock. She loved the crispness of the morning air and the pure scent of it. It was wilder than the English countryside, but it spoke to her soul.
With Cal, she unpacked the canoe. He always wanted to do most of the work, but she helped him set up the tent and lay out the sacks and blankets they used for sleeping. Cal set up a fire. That night, they sat beside the fire and watched the stars. And she saw the glorious northern lights—stunning displays of dancing green, purple and yellow.
The next day, they worked together at the edge of the rock, sketching on small canvases. Cal painted the landscape and she tried to paint him. Much to her chagrin, he took the picture from her at the end of the day and looked at it. His eyes widened. “It’s incredible. You have real talent, my beautiful muse. More talent than me.”
She laughed. “I don’t.”
“You’ve made me more handsome than I really am.”
“That is exactly how you look to me. Even here, in the wilds, I think you are the perfect Earl of Worthington.”
He kissed her. “You know, Sheba, I think it’s time to travel home. Since you’re in a delicate condition.”
She nodded. “If I get very large, I’ll probably tip the canoe.” And she laughed as Cal pulled her back into his arms.
* * *
In April, when snowdrops blossomed over the lawns of Worthington, Julia gave birth to two beautiful babies—twins! Cal was there, helping her through the birth. Dr. Campbell and a London specialist attended. She had just sent Cal home from the hospital for some sleep, Nigel and Zoe had come and left. Isobel had come, fascinated by the medical practicalities of birthing twins. Although many medical schools had closed their doors to women now that the War was behind them, there were still some places and Isobel was determined to leave that year to study.
Then Julia heard a nurse giggling outside her room, and she knew who had come. Seconds later, her charming brother Sebastian peeked around the door. “Only you would have one of each rather than having to choose. It’s more perfect this way,” he said, grinning.
She held both babies in her arms, which she felt rather nervous about doing. She asked her brother about John Ransome.
“Alas, I’ve realized I can’t change John’s mind. He won’t turn his back on his family—and their expectations—for me,” Sebastian said.
“As you said to me, he should be willing to fight for you. Perhaps if I bring you together—arrange dinner parties—”
“You will be too busy being a mother. I’m philosophical about this, Julia. Love will come for me eventually. I plan to return to Paris and paint. But I’m going to stay in England for the summer, to see my adorable nephews and niece.”
“It will be wonderful to have you here,” she said.
She sensed Cal just as he came in her room, carrying a bouquet of roses. He stopped in the doorway and just looked at her. She had never seen him look so happy. Diana had given birth to her daughter a few months before, after her marriage to David. David had even ridden a horse just before that, as Julia had vowed he would. It had been a delightful time. This was even more wonderful. “You are supposed to be resting,” she said.
“I couldn’t stay away. You look radiant, Julia. Perfect.”
“You mean they are perfect.”
“All of you are perfect,” he said softly. “There is no curse now. There can’t be. Your blend of modern compassion and old-world elegance and honor has broken the curse forever. You’ve brought happiness to Worthington. And brought the most wonderful miracles of all to me. Two beautiful babies, the perfect wife and love.”
“Amen,” Sebastian said.
Julia looked up. She saw the dowager countess in the corridor, afraid to come in. “Would you take our daughter?” Julia asked him.
He looked confused, then embarrassed, and she smiled. “Our daughter has the curls.”
As he scooped their little girl into his arms, she said, “You could introduce her to the dowager. I’ve had to think long and hard about it, but I think we should give her a second chance.”
Cal nodded. “She wrote me a letter telling me that she would never breathe a word about my mother. I admit, I haven’t answered it.” He made a beckoning motion. As the dowager Lady Worthington came in, she whispered, “I’m sorry. So very sorry. For everything.”
Julia looked to Cal. He said gently, “It’s accepted. And thank you for your decision. Now, come here and meet the future Earl of Worthington and his perfect sister.”
The dowager did, wiping a tear from her cheek.
Then her mother and grandmother came into the room. Julia saw the joy in her mother’s eyes, and she had Cal help her mother hold each baby, one at a time. “They are beautiful,” her mother cooed, her eyes bright with happy tears. “It is so miraculous. Two wonderful babies. And speaking of something miraculous, your grandmother has allowed Sir Raynard to court her more seriously.”
“Court me? Rubbish,” Grandmama declared. “But perhaps I have realized I have been blessed with everything—a home, a family, delightful grandchildren. So perhaps I could risk allowing a gentleman into my life once more.”
“I highly approve,” Julia said teasingly. And she knew she would be a Worthington Wife who had perfect happiness.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from AN AMERICAN DUCHESS by Sharon Page.