Heart of the Ocean (22 page)

Eliza slept little, her mind wracked with why Helena
continued to haunt her—even in England. There was nothing Eliza could do for
Helena here. She didn’t dream, didn’t have nightmares, but maybe that was
because she couldn’t sleep. When morning finally arrived, it dawned gray. When
Eliza went down for breakfast, Mrs. Graydon met her at the bottom of the steps,
a letter in hand.

“Another letter from Mr. Prann,” she said. “I think you
should read it.”

Eliza took the envelope. Would she never be able to free
herself of Maybrook? First Helena was speaking to her again, and now another
letter from Nathaniel. She walked into the parlor and tore open the letter.

Dearest Eliza,

Tomorrow night is the university ball, which I would love
to attend with thee. I hope all is well. Know that I’m praying for thy
forgiveness for my bold assumptions. As stated in my other letters that you
have not replied to, I am truly sorry for my behavior.

I only want thy friendship.

I’ll be on thy doorstep tomorrow night at eight. Answer
my knock if thou wants to join me. If not, I’ll walk away and never contact
thee again.

Sincerely,

Nathaniel

Eliza closed her eyes for a moment. Had Nathaniel finally
accepted the inevitable and only wanted a companion for the ball? Eliza had two
choices: Cower in the townhouse, dreading Helena’s voice, or go out and forget
Helena’s torments for an evening.

She walked upstairs to the bedroom and sifted through the
closet. There was one dress that she hadn’t worn yet since leaving New York, which
might work. She pulled out the lavender gown and held it up to her figure. It
would have to do.

That evening, Eliza and Gina were ready by seven-thirty. She
paced nervously in the parlor while Gina sat engrossed in her book.

Eliza began doubting her decision. What if Nathaniel was
trapping her into another long tirade about the alterations he was making in
his life so that they could be married? She sighed at the thought. She had
never asked him to make changes in the first place, and she’d told him that she
wouldn’t marry him even if he did.

The minutes ticked by, agonizingly slow, but finally she
heard a carriage arrive. Gina looked up expectantly. Eliza went to the door and
opened it before he could knock.

Nathaniel stood on the porch, his hand raised. When he saw Eliza,
his eyes widened. “Thou hast forgiven me,” he said, smiling. “I mean . . . you
have forgiven me.”

Was he changing his manner of speech too? For some reason,
it sounded unnatural coming from him. “We’re only friends?” she asked.

“Yes.” He agreed. “But I have to tell thee that you look
heavenly.”

Gina laughed behind them, and the two of them followed
Nathaniel to the waiting carriage.

The ball was in full swing when they arrived. Carriages
lined the streets, unloading passengers. Nathaniel could barely contain his
excitement and spoke non-stop about all of the friends he planned to introduce
them to. “I’ve told them all about you.”

Eliza held in a groan. “What have you told them?”

“That thou are a wonderful young lady and maybe someday . .
. I mean, your friendship is valuable, and I want them to meet you.”

Eliza smiled politely, but inside she was nervous—what
exactly had he told his friends about her? Gina elbowed her, stifling a giggle.
The carriage came to a stop, and Nathaniel helped her down.

They had arrived at a stately building, with dozens of
stairs leading to the entrance. Nathaniel offered his arm to Eliza, and
together they walked up the steps. The music grew louder as they approached. Soon
after they entered the great hall, Nathaniel was greeted by another couple,
then another. It seemed he knew almost everyone at the ball. Introductions were
made and smiles shared. Gina was asked to dance almost immediately. By the time
Nathaniel led Eliza to the dance floor, she was relieved to be away from
introductions.

He wrapped one arm about her and held her other hand in
his—his palm was perspiring.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“This is my first real dance,” he confessed.

Eliza pulled away. “I don’t want you to do something against
your religion.”

“No, you don’t understand.” He drew her back into position,
his brow creased. “I’ve been practicing for weeks; I wanted my first dance to
be with you.”

Eliza’s neck grew warm as Nathaniel led her around the
floor. His steps were awkward, but accurate. No one seemed to notice that a
Puritan had joined their ranks. “Relax,” she said. “You’re doing fine.”

He smiled, sweat beading on his forehead. Glancing around,
he whispered, “Do you think people are watching us?”

“No one is.” Eliza couldn’t help but smile. “And if they
are, they won’t notice anything different.”

Nathaniel’s steps grew more fluid, and his shoulders
straightened. Eliza found herself enjoying the evening, perhaps she was capable
of maintaining a friendship with this ever-changing man.

Time passed quickly. Eliza danced with several of
Nathaniel’s friends. Each of them had amusing stories to tell about him, and
she found herself laughing along with them. She started to see Nathaniel in a
different light, although that didn’t change her resolve.

When she danced with Nathaniel again, he glowed from
physical exertion and the occasion of dancing with numerous girls.

“I’ve met so many delightful women here,” he sputtered. “All
of them have been patient with my questions.”

Eliza smiled. “I’m happy for you. I’m sure you’ll discover
that I pale in comparison to the women of London.”

He looked at her fondly. “You’ll always shine in my eyes, Eliza,
no matter what happens.”

Glancing away, Eliza felt a lump form in her throat.
Nathaniel drew her close. He began to hum softly in her ear, but Eliza remained
stiff in his arms.

“Another thing that has changed about me,” he whispered,
sending shivers down her neck, “is that I can show my affection for the woman
of my choosing.”

The music came to an end, and before another waltz number
started up, Eliza disengaged. But Nathaniel held her fast and continued to hum.
“If you ever do change your mind,” he said. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Nathaniel, you said we were friends,” Eliza said.

“Friendship is a wonderful basis to build a marriage on.”

The spell had been broken, and Eliza pulled away. “Excuse me.
I must find the powder room.”

Nathaniel released her, reluctance in his eyes. “I’ll be
here when you return.”

She turned and moved through the crowd. She knew her cheeks
were flaming, but she didn’t care who noticed. Once inside the powder room, she
found an empty chair and sank into it. She squeezed her eyes shut. Coming had
been a mistake. Nathaniel would never change.

After several minutes, she felt composed enough to reenter
the ball. She’d find Gina and tell her she had to leave, and to pass the
message to Nathaniel so he couldn’t stop her from leaving.  

Standing on the outskirts of the dance floor, she scanned
the faces. No one looked familiar—yet everyone looked familiar. Amid the
swirling skirts, she couldn’t find Gina.

Eliza sighed, gazing at the churning mass of colors before
her. One separated from the rest, and Eliza stared in disbelief at the man
coming toward her.

It was
him
. Blood rushed to her head. She reached out
and steadied herself on a marble column. Jon had seen her—the man who had
haunted her dreams for months.

She glanced around, trying to spot Gina, who was nowhere in
sight. Gazing forward again, she looked for
him
, but he’d disappeared
also—maybe it hadn’t been him after all.

“Eliza?”

He stood next to her, those same dark eyes that she’d seen
in her dreams a thousand times, absorbing her features. His hair was blacker
than she remembered, his shoulders broad under a well-cut suit. But it was his
countenance that seemed the most changed. He was a man with hope in his eyes.

“Hello, Jon,” she managed to say.

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” he said.

“I think I have.” Her voice sounded tinny to her ears, as if
someone else spoke the hollow words.

Jon’s eyes clouded. “You mean my mother?”

Shaking her head, Eliza took a step backward. He must be on
his honeymoon—but so soon? Maybe they moved up their wedding date. “Are you
here with your wife?”

A look of amusement crossed his face. “I’m not married.”

Not married?
Her mind raced as she tried to
comprehend. “But I thought . . .” Her face flushed. “Your fiancée then, of
course.”

Jon took a step closer. “If you can believe it, Apryl left
me for Thomas Beesley.”

Eliza covered her mouth. She didn’t know whether to laugh or
offer sympathy.
Thomas and Apryl?
Of all the odd things to happen . .
.

Jon seemed to read her thoughts. “I’ve no hard feelings
anymore. It’s rather amusing when you think about it.”

Not married.
Eliza tried to organize her thoughts.
“Quite amusing.” His eyes stayed on her, quite unnerving her in fact. “What
brings you to England?”

“I came to settle my late father’s estate in Norwich. I’m in
London with his son-in-law, a Cambridge graduate.”

She nodded, hardly daring to believe that Jon was standing
before her.

“I’ve a confession to make,” he said.

The music around them grew dim, and the people faded into
the background. Eliza looked at him, her heart pounding, trying to remember
what he’d said.

“The morning after I received the letter from you about my
mother,” Jon said, “I hurried to your house and . . . finding you gone, I
decided to try to catch you at the ship harbor. But I wasn’t allowed on board.”

Eliza stared at him.
So it
was
him
.

“And,” he paused, “I need to explain that I’m not Thomas
Beesley’s lawyer, nor have I ever represented him.” He tilted his head,
capturing her gaze. “I want you to know that when I return to New York, I’ll be
in a position to help your father if he needs it.”

Thomas Beesley lied
. All of this time, she’d believed
him. Of course Thomas had lied—she knew his character better than anyone. What
a fool she’d been.

“You never represented Thomas Beesley?” Eliza asked.

“No. I have a very little opinion of the man, and even less
so now, if that’s possible,” Jon said.

She opened her mouth to inquire further, but Jon cocked his
head to one side and said, “Now tell me what you are doing in London.”

“I’m . . .” She hesitated and glanced away, hoping Nathaniel
was nowhere in sight. “Mr. Graydon has business in London for several days.”

Just then, Nathaniel appeared. “Hello, Mr. Porter,” he said,
his greeting sounding more like a question.

The warmth faded from Eliza’s face, but she managed to keep
a pleasant expression. She didn’t know what Jon would think of her being at the
dance with Nathaniel.

“All the way from Maybrook? What a coincidence,” Nathaniel
said.

Jon looked from him to Eliza, curiosity in his eyes.
“Quite.”

“What brings you here, sir?” Nathaniel asked.

“I’m here with a relative who happens to be an alumnus,” Jon
explained. “But even more surprising is seeing
you
here, Mr. Prann . . .
at a dance.”

Nathaniel gave a curt nod. “I’m attending Cambridge.”

Jon remained silent, waiting for his question to be
answered.

“And I’ve had a change of conviction,” Nathaniel said with a
smile. “When I return to home, I will found my own sect based on the Puritan
laws I was brought up on, but it will have a more modern understanding and
flexibility.”

“As in an understanding of the art of dance?” Jon asked.

A flush crept onto Nathaniel’s face. “Among other things,”
he said stiffly.

Jon nodded. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again, and I wish
both of you all the best.”

Eliza touched Jon’s arm. “You’ll be in England long?”

“I depart tomorrow, as a matter of fact.” He glanced at
Nathaniel, then Eliza. “Good luck with your plans.” Jon spun on his heels and
walked away.

Nathaniel took Eliza’s hand. “What a queer fellow. So
moody—”

“Excuse me for a moment,” Eliza said, tugging her hand away.

She turned away and zigzagged across the room, hoping that
Nathaniel wouldn’t see that she was following Jon. As he reached the entrance
of the hall, Eliza caught up with him.

“Jon,” she said.

He turned, puzzlement crossing his face when he saw her.

“Please wait.” She covered the last few steps, glancing
furtively behind her.

“We can talk outside, if you don’t want him to see us,” Jon
said.

Eliza hesitated for a moment then followed him. The sky was
clear, with a bright moon, but the air chilly. She wrapped her arms about her
with a shiver. “I wanted to explain.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” Jon said. “Would you like
my jacket?”

“I’m fine.” Eliza lowered her gaze, searching for her next
words.

“I think it’s wonderful that you and Nathaniel are together.
His regard for you has been obvious all along.” Jon spoke the generous words,
but his voice was empty. “He’s a good man, in addition to the fact that he’s
changed his Puritan ways for you—a true statement of devotion.”    

“I’m not marrying him,” Eliza blurted.

Jon’s expression was as flat as his tone. “He appears to think
otherwise.”

Glancing away, Eliza bit her lip. “Not for lack of trying to
convince him on my part.”

He was silent for a moment. “I should go.”

Eliza brought her gaze back to Jon, not wanting him to leave
yet. “You received my letter?”

He nodded. “It must have been quite horrific for you to
dream about her death,” he said gently.