A Promise for Tomorrow (16 page)

“Mr. Swann and I had a lovely talk, and I begged him to allow me to wait here for you,” Annabelle explained. “When Mr. Latrobe arrived in desperate need of discussing railroad business, Mr. Swann was finally convinced.”

Carolina swallowed hard and took a deep, steadying breath. “I see,” she managed to say without sounding like a complete fool. “How very kind of you.”

“I thought it might be nice if we could talk. I’ve long heard of you from James, and I would find it delightful to share supper with you. Would you do me the honor?”

Carolina felt a wash of insecurity rush over her. The woman looked so well kept and lovely. Her stylish black wool mantelet was ornately embroidered with fiery red birds and silver branches. Trimmed at the neck and hem with mink, it was the epitome of popularity that season. Under this, Miss Bryce’s damask gown of red, black, and green plaid jutted out in the highly desired bell-shaped fashion, giving her a very smart appearance. An involuntary frown crossed Carolina’s brow. Alongside Annabelle Bryce, she felt quite dowdy in her gray traveling suit and black winter coat, all smudged and wrinkled from her journey.

“Please, Mrs. Baldwin,” Annabelle said, coming forward, “I would like very much for us to be friends.”

“I am quite hungry,” Carolina admitted, then met the other woman’s gaze. She would have much preferred going to her hotel room to freshen up, but there was an urgency in Annabelle’s voice that she couldn’t ignore. “I would be happy to share supper with you. The doctor said I might return to see James later today, so if there is somewhere we might go that is close to the hospital—”

“But of course. There is a cafe just across the way.”

Carolina nodded and followed Annabelle into the street. The cold weather had hardened the muddy thoroughfare, but still Carolina gently raised the edge of her skirt to avoid any additional dirt and wear to her hem. The traveling gown was several years old, and seeing Annabelle only made Carolina more aware of how much she’d allowed herself to become out of pace where fashion was concerned. She had become the perfect example of the nonsocial housewife and mother. She seldom ever gave herself over to entertaining, and with James gone so much of the time, she avoided the parties and socials of other families. It was difficult to attend events alone, and oftentimes it was simply considered in bad taste. So Carolina had slipped out of the social circles with exception to her charity work and Sunday church services, which often only served to further her loneliness.

Sighing as she contemplated the woman before her, Carolina chided herself. It’s not like I ever cared one whit for being stylish. Books always took precedence over ball gowns. But there was something about Annabelle that made Carolina acutely aware that perhaps she’d become overly reserved and remiss in her social responsibilities.

“Here we are,” Annabelle announced, pushing open the door. “It isn’t much, but the food is good and they know me here, so no one will be upset at serving two unescorted ladies.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Carolina commented. Immediately her mind took off in another direction. She wondered how long Annabelle had sat outside James’ room, all in order to invite her to supper.
Why would Annabelle Bryce spend her day awaiting me? What is she about?
Carolina pondered as they took a seat at a far-removed table.

“We can have a little privacy here,” Annabelle said with a smile.

Carolina took her chair and nodded. Just then a woman looking to be in her mid-fifties appeared. She wore a serviceable gown of brown cotton and a pinafore-styled apron of bleached muslin. Her hair was graying and pulled back in a tight, secure bun, making her countenance seem almost angry. But where the fashion made her seem stern, the wrinkles around her eyes suggested a less severe nature, and when she smiled in welcome, all thought of formality faded.

“It’s mighty cold out there today. What can I get you ladies?” she asked in a motherly fashion. “Something to warm you up, no doubt.”

“Do you have a special today, Naomi?” Annabelle asked in a manner that suggested complete familiarity.

“Why, we sure do, Miss Annabelle. Thickest beef stew you’ll ever set your lips to. Apple pie and fresh-baked biscuits, as well.”

“That sounds perfect for me. How about you?” Annabelle questioned, looking at Carolina for confirmation.

Carolina nodded. “Yes. It sounds just fine. I’d also be grateful for a cup of tea, if you have it.”

The woman beamed her a smile. “Why, we sure do. I’ll have it all out here directly.”

She bustled off to see to their order, leaving Carolina painfully aware of Annabelle’s fixed stare. She felt a desperate need to freshen up but was determined not to give in to her emotions. James had already assured her that Annabelle was nothing more than a friend, but Carolina remembered that at one time she and James had only been friends, as well.

“May I call you Carolina?” Annabelle suddenly asked. Carolina was so surprised by this that she could only nod in mute agreement. “And you, of course, must call me Annabelle. Everyone does.”

“All right,” Carolina managed to say.

The women engaged in several minutes of small talk—the weather, the traveling conditions, the amenities of Harper’s Ferry, with which Annabelle was quite familiar. Then the waitress returned with their meals, and it was only after she had gone to attend to a new arrival of customers that Annabelle once again took up the conversation.

“I met James a long time ago, in case you wondered.” She paused to study Carolina’s reaction, and Carolina found herself trying all the more to retain a straight, stoic expression. She had no desire for this woman to pry into her wounded pride and damaged self-confidence.

“James attempted to help me from the train. We were stopped because of snowdrifts, and it was necessary for a carriage to bring us on to Harper’s. We both ended up plopped down in a snowbank, but it was the start of a great friendship. I soon learned that James admired spirited women who possessed the ability to think for themselves. He told me I reminded him of someone. I didn’t yet know that you were the one I reminded him of. He was running away at the time—or so it seemed—and it turned out to be pretty much the truth. He was going west with the railroad and seeking to forget something very painful.”

Carolina nodded, knowing full well it was most likely when he had broken his engagement to Virginia.

Annabelle continued between samples of her steaming stew. “I later learned he had left your sister because he’d come to recognize his love for you. I don’t have a single memory of James when he was not pining for you. Over the years, we’ve shared many conversations and kept each other company during painful times. But always, always, it was you he thought of. I knew you must be a very special woman, and even then I knew someday I would have to meet you for myself.”

Carolina didn’t know what to say, so she busied herself with the food. It was difficult to listen to what Annabelle had to say because it only served to stir up the jealousy Carolina already felt a burning down deep inside. She tried to counterbalance those emotions with James’ earlier words, but sitting across from Annabelle made it difficult to focus on those things.

As if seeing that Carolina was far from convinced, Annabelle continued, this time dropping any pretense of polite chitchat. “There was a time when James was quite devastated by his loss. He found you married to another, felt you were forever lost to him, and sought me out to share his misery.”

Carolina felt the intensity of Annabelle’s watchful eyes. She hadn’t a clue as to what Annabelle wanted from her. Why should she bring me here to tell me all of this? Has she no mercy or consideration for my feelings? If James esteemed this woman for her kindness, then where was such a quality now?

“I could have had him for myself,” Annabelle stated bluntly.

This caused Carolina to drop her spoon. “I beg your pardon?” she questioned in a whisper.

“I believe you heard me,” Annabelle replied. “James was well into his cups one night, and his anguish over being too late to take you for his wife was more than he could endure. He found you promised to that commission merchant who later married your sister.”

“You seem to know a great deal about my family,” Carolina said in a rather hostile tone. She thought to straighten Annabelle out on the fact that she had never been promised to Hampton Cabot, but she let it go.

Annabelle smiled, not in the leastwise insulted. “James was very thorough in his confessions. As I recall, you had seen each other at some social event in Washington.”

“Yes,” Carolina replied, remembering the moment in full clarity. “I was accompanied by Mr. Cabot, who did, indeed, marry my sister Virginia.”

“James was told by your friends that you two were to be wed. He returned to Baltimore a broken man. I found him wandering the streets drunk, or at least well on his way to being so. I took him home, fed him, and let him pour out his miseries. It was then that he suggested we be married.”

Carolina felt her chest constrict. Her stomach suddenly churned, making her wish most fervently that she had never taken a single bite of the delicious stew. “Why are you telling me this?” she asked, but down deep inside she really wondered why James had never mentioned it.

Annabelle put down her spoon and her expression softened to one of complete sympathy. “Because I saw the look in your eyes when you found me kissing your husband. Because I see it still and know that it can lead to no good. If left untended, it will only cause grief between you and James.”

“So you tell me that you could have had my husband? How does that resolve anything?”

“It should stand as proof to you of James’ devotion. It wasn’t me that he was proposing to. As I mentioned, he’d had more than a little to drink. He spoke of always needing me and what an important part of his life I’d become. He even said he could not imagine living a single day without me in his life.” She paused and Carolina could see tears glistening in her eyes. “He was talking about you, not me. I could have agreed to his suggestion of marriage—trapped him into an awkward obligation—but it was you he wanted. It is you he loves.”

Carolina said nothing, but she knew in that moment that things had changed. She knew Annabelle to be honorable, at least in part. And while the woman remained a stranger in most ways, Carolina easily read the sincerity and honesty in her words. What purpose could be otherwise served than that which Annabelle suggested?

They ate in silence for several moments, and it wasn’t until the woman returned to bring two huge pieces of apple pie that Carolina spoke. “None for me, please. I’m afraid I’ve made a glutton of myself with your stew and biscuits.”

Annabelle nodded. “The same is true of me. Please just put this on my account, Naomi. I’ll take care of it later.”

“No, that isn’t necessary,” Carolina protested, reaching for her handbag.

“Please, let me do this one thing for you.”

Carolina thought to refuse, then realized it was her turn to be gracious. She nodded. “Very well, but you must allow me to return the favor sometime.”

“I’d like that very much. I can’t think of anything I’d enjoy more than to share time with you and James before you return to Baltimore. But for now, let me accompany you to your hotel. I’m sure you would like to see to your things, and then you can feel free to go back to the hospital and be with James.”

They left the cafe and walked in silence until they came to the hotel where Thomas Swann had arranged for rooms. Carolina continued to wonder at the woman beside her. A great many women in Annabelle’s position might have used their past relationships to bring harm and misery upon others, but this woman was clearly different. There was something about Annabelle that seemed almost noble and admirable. She carried herself regally, and although upon closer inspection, Carolina found her face to be a bit poxy and scarred, she was lovely in a way that seemed to come from the inside out.

She still wondered who Annabelle Bryce really was. She was an actress, of that James had made clear during their introductions. So maybe this was all staged for Carolina’s benefit. Maybe Annabelle was merely playing a part.

“I could have had him for myself,”
she had told Carolina simply.
“I
could have agreed to his suggestion of marriage, but it was you he wanted.
It is you he loves.”
Carolina followed Annabelle into the lobby of the hotel, all the while replaying Annabelle’s words in her head. It had become increasingly obvious that while Annabelle had spoken of James’ feelings for her, she’d not confessed her own feelings for James.

Stopping abruptly, Carolina eyed Annabelle cautiously. “You told me that James didn’t love you, but you never said whether or not you loved James.”

Annabelle seemed taken aback for a moment before replying. “No, I didn’t, did I.” It was more a statement than a question.

Carolina immediately put up her guard. Her body tensed with the expression of unmasked admiration in Annabelle’s eyes. Admiration that was certainly intended for James. Turning to leave, Carolina was surprised when Annabelle’s gloved fingers closed over her arm. The actress patted her gently and smiled.

“You do not need to worry about my feelings in this, Carolina. I am a Christian woman, and I honor the commitment of marriage. I would never present myself as a complication to your marriage or to the love you two so obviously share.” She paused for a moment, seeming to need to control her own emotions. “I may well be envious, but I am not an adulterous woman. You need fear nothing from me.”

Annabelle’s words stayed with Carolina throughout the rest of the evening. When she retired for the night, she lay in her hotel bed, contemplating the reason she had been privy to such personal feelings and thoughts. Annabelle clearly admired, maybe even loved, James, and while at first Carolina found this most alarming, now it gave her cause to dwell on yet another aspect. After six years of marriage and three children, Carolina realized that she’d allowed herself to become complacent about her marriage. She had never lost sight of the blessings she found in the security of home and hearth, husband and children, but she had lost sight of the dream.