The light drizzle quickly turned to rain as I left the park and made my way to meet Charles at his hotel. My mood was already gloomy after the disappointing visit with Margaret and the prospect of the difficult conversation ahead, and the weather didn’t help. Still, I was beginning to accept that life often didn’t go the way you wanted or expected it to, and that I had to be more willing to confront, not avoid, whatever challenges came my way.
My stomach tumbled and my pulse raced as I rounded a corner and saw the hotel. My planned speech turned over and over in my mind. I hoped I wouldn’t falter when I saw him. Charles had a talent for disarming even the most determined opponent.
I ducked into the ladies’ bathroom before going to find him. Madeleine had told me I looked perfect but I added a slick of lipstick for good measure and checked myself in the mirror.
I’d envied Madeleine as I’d watched her walk away, a spring in her step as she headed off for her lunch with Daniel. I envied the excitement of first lunch dates, the promise of everything still to come. Was it really only a year since I’d been that same excited young woman, waiting for Charles to pull up outside to take me on another extravagant date? I was so impressed by him, so in awe of him, but I had never loved him. I thought about something Matthias had said as I’d sketched his portrait: She made it easy. Violet made everything feel right. That’s how it should be with someone you love. It had taken a trip of thousands of miles to realize that I’d never truly loved Charles. Not in the way I wanted to love the man I would marry.
I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror one last time, took a deep breath, and went to find him.
He was waiting for me in the lobby bar, his back to me as he sat on a stool, his eyes trained on the pages of a newspaper. I took a moment to study him, to check my reaction, relieved to discover there was no flicker of passion still lingering.
“Hello, Charles.”
He turned, then stood and walked toward me. He reached for me instantly and pressed his lips to mine.
“Darling Clara. How I’ve missed you!” He pulled back to study me. “And how pretty you’ve made yourself for me!” He kissed me again with a low moan of desire.
I stood like a statue, my arms hanging like fire irons at my sides before I pulled away and suggested we sit down.
“So, you survived!” He laughed as we took our seats at a window table, and he ordered two scotch and sodas. “My brave little Clara, traveling around the world!”
“I’ll actually have a negroni,” I corrected, smiling at the waiter. “Thank you.”
Charles stared at me. “I see your journey has already changed your tastes.”
“I never cared for scotch and soda,” I countered as I took off my gloves. “And yes, my tastes have changed. Very much.”
“Did you like your gifts?” he asked. “I thought they would act as a reminder of my love while you were gone, so you wouldn’t forget me. I was sorry to only hear from you once. You must have been very busy squabbling with your sister.” He stuck out his bottom lip in a fake childish pout.
“They were nice gifts,” I said. “Very thoughtful of you, but entirely unnecessary.”
“Nothing is unnecessary when it comes to my Clara.” He leaned forward and took my hand in his. “You, my darling, are entirely necessary.” He paused and leaned toward me to steal another kiss as our drinks arrived.
I took a long sip of my negroni, enjoying the warm bolstering buzz from the alcohol as I summoned the courage to tell him.
“So,” he continued, leaning back in his chair, “we can spend the last two nights together and return home triumphantly on the mighty Hindenburg! They say she’s quite something. And then we can get on with the wedding. Mother has been remarkable while you’ve been away. She has everything organized. There’s really nothing left for you to worry about.”
I heard him speak, but the words seemed to float above me, as if he was talking about someone else’s wedding. I sat patiently while he went on and on, until I couldn’t stand it any longer.
“Stop, Charles. Please, just stop.”
He paused, midsentence. “Whatever’s the matter?”
“There won’t be a wedding, Charles. I can’t marry you. I’m sorry.” I blurted it out in a rush, my carefully rehearsed speech disintegrating.
He laughed, too loudly. “What are you talking about? Of course there’ll be a wedding. Darling, I . . .”
I leaned back in my chair. “No, Charles. There won’t.” I felt suddenly calm, as if an enormous weight had lifted from me. “I know all about your scheme with Daniel Miller. I know you arranged for him to follow us.”
At this, he looked taken aback. “I see. He didn’t mention it.”
“Didn’t mention what? That we’d found out? That I’d discovered your plan to keep an eye on me in case of any ‘misdemeanors’? What were you thinking, Charles? Spying on me?”
He laughed. “It wasn’t spying! You’re being a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”
“Am I?” I took a deep breath and another long sip of my drink.
“I only wanted to make sure you didn’t come to any harm, darling. I only ever want the best for you.”
“You don’t know what’s best for me, though. You smother me, Charles. You order my meals. You decide on my drink. You tell me when and where we are having dinner, and with whom. You even decided on our wedding venue. Did it ever occur to you that I might not want to get married at the yacht club? That I might have set my heart on other places? And as for your gifts, I don’t like roses, and my favorite perfume is Chanel. You think you know what’s best for me, Charles, without ever trying to know me at all.”
My voice was raised, catching the attention of the other guests.
“Clara, you’re making a scene.” Now he looked shocked, and angry. “And where’s your engagement ring?”
I’d wondered when he might notice that. “Don’t worry,” I said, lowering my voice. “I didn’t throw it into the Grand Canal. I know how much it’s worth.”
I took a small envelope from my handbag and pushed it across the table toward him.
He stared at the envelope. “You’re really going to call off our engagement over a silly misunderstanding?”
“This is about far more than a silly misunderstanding. You don’t truly know me, know my heart. You only see me as an extension of you. Things don’t feel easy with you, Charles. And they should feel easy with the person you’re planning to spend the rest of your life with.”
His cheeks flushed with anger. “I can give you a good life, Clara. You would want for nothing.”
I shook my head. “What I want is to be happy.”
He picked the envelope up roughly and pushed it into the inside pocket of his jacket. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. No doubt your sister has tried to turn you against me the entire time you’ve been away. She never did like me, but even I didn’t think she would stoop this low.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Your sister’s exposé. About Hancock Enterprises. Front page news back home.”
My mind raced. An exposé? About Hancock Enterprises? So that was why Madeleine hadn’t told me what her article was about. It was about Charles.
He watched me carefully, swirling the ice in his glass as he waited for my reaction. I knew he intended to shock me, to turn me against Madeleine again.
“You look surprised,” he said, his voice mocking. “Didn’t she tell you?”
And just like that, he was back in control.
“No. She didn’t tell me.”
I couldn’t think straight. I was confused and hurt. I was furious with Madeleine for putting me on the spot and furious with Charles for turning the conversation around.
“Apparently it was mailed to the editor of the New York Herald Tribune from Venice,” he continued, a look of smug delight on his face. “Oops. I suppose I’ve just made more trouble between the two of you. I assumed you knew about it since you’ve become such good friends.”
I stood up, fumbling as I picked up my hat and gloves. “I need to go. I need . . .”
“Clara!”
I turned to see my sister rushing toward me. She stopped as I turned around, then she looked from me to Charles and back again.
Charles grinned. “Well, hello, Madeleine. We were just talking about you, weren’t we, Clara? I was updating her on your inventive storytelling.”
Her face fell as she saw my expression.
“I’m sorry, Clara. I was going to tell you about the article, but I wanted you to make up your mind about Charles first.”
“You’re each as bad as the other,” I snapped, looking at them both. “Trying to protect me. Deciding what’s best for me. How could you, Madeleine? After everything? I opened up to you, told you exactly how I felt about things.” I stared at her, searching those green eyes for the sister I thought I’d come to understand. “You’ll never change, will you? No matter how far you travel around the world or how many cities you visit, you’ll always come back to you. Putting the story before everything, and everyone, else. I’m sorry I ever let myself believe you’d changed.”
At this, she looked wounded, but I didn’t regret a word.
“I hadn’t decided if I would send the article,” she explained. “But you mailed it from Venice, along with the postcards and letters.”
“And you wrote it behind my back!” I reached into my handbag and pulled out Nellie’s pocket watch. “Here,” I said, thrusting it at her. “I was planning to give this to you on our way home. You might as well have it now, because I don’t even want to see you on the Hindenburg.”
She stared at me as she took the pocket watch. “But this is yours. Violet gave it to you.”
“And I know how much Auntie Nellie meant to you. I wanted to give it to you. As a gift. From your sister.” The words caught in my throat, emotion overwhelming me.
Charles stepped forward and reached for my arm. “Darling. Calm down. We can talk more about this . . .”
I stepped out of his way. “And I don’t want to see you on the Hindenburg, either. If you really care for me as much as you say you do, then prove it, and let me go home alone. My decision is made, Charles. You can’t use one of your negotiating techniques to change my mind.”
I turned then and walked away from them both, tears of anger and frustration stinging my eyes.
I jumped into a taxi and looked straight ahead as the car pulled into traffic. My heart raced from the confrontation and from the exhilaration of standing up to a man who thought he could tell me what to do, and who to be. From now on, I would make my own decisions, forge my own path.
As the car tracked the curve of the Danube, I asked the driver to pull over.
“I’ll walk the rest of the way. It isn’t far.”
As I had so often, I turned to the water for comfort. Inhaling deeply, I peered over the bridge and looked at my reflection. There are two of us, Violet had said. The version we present to the world behind the polite smiles, and the private person we really are.
From now on, I would live the life I really wanted, be the real me, without apology, or hesitation.