Love and Dreams: The Coltrane Saga, Book 6 (27 page)

Bryan stiffened, straightened, seemed to grow taller with each word she spoke, till he towered above her with eyes bulging and lips trembling with rage. “You mean before our marriage takes place, don’t you?” he accused. “Admit it! You want him back! Tell the truth. I think I’ve known it all along, but I wouldn’t let myself believe it. You think if he finds out you’re alive, he’ll leave his wife and run to you. My God, Jade, where’s your pride?” he challenged in wonder. “What about the baby they’re expecting? And what about me—the way I’ve looked after you, cared for you, loved you? Can’t you think of anybody but yourself?”

“No, you’ve got it all wrong,” she was quick to deny. “You’re not listening—”

“Oh, I’m listening all right, and I’m telling you, Jade…” With hands clenching and unclenching at his side, nerves throbbing in his jaw and neck, he bit out his ultimatum. “If you go to him, you’d better hope he does want you back, because I’ve got my pride, even if you don’t know the meaning of the word, and as much as I love you, I won’t take you back after you’ve made a fool of yourself and all of New York is talking about you!”

She stared at him uncertainly. Surely he didn’t mean what he was saying. Quelling her own anger at his attempt to intimidate her, she tried to explain once more. “I only want to see him, Bryan. Talk to him. I never said anything about asking him to take me back…never said I wanted him back. Oh, why are you acting like this? It’s so childish!”

With a deep moan, he reached out and grabbed her, crushing her against him as he devoured her with his eyes, his lips. “Goddammit, woman, don’t you realize how much I love you? This is tearing me apart, and I can’t go on like this. I love you too much, and I’ve got to know you’re mine, all mine.” He kissed her, mouth harsh, bruising, then withdrew, released her as he furiously declared, voice quivering with emotion, “No other man could love you as much as I do. You’re my life, my world, my reason for living—but you’re torturing me with your indecision, and I can’t take it anymore!”

He turned to the door, and she could only stand there, staring at his retreating back. What could she say? He’d just laid down his rules, and she couldn’t abide by them. Not now. She’d made her decision to confront Colt; realized, finally, that that was the only way she’d ever know true peace, for she was tired of all the lies, the pretense.

At the door, he suddenly turned to look at her, and she thought in that instant she’d never seen so much pain and anguish mirrored in the face of another human being.

Tone guttural, unnatural, lips twisted as though suppressing a scream, he grimly said, “You know, when I found you, clinging to that bobbing crate in the rolling ocean, I only had a couple of days left to live. As I’ve told you before, I was on my way to my island to end my life because there was nothing left to live for. I’d lost my wife my son, my reasons for waking each morning, drawing each breath.” He paused, tears suddenly glimmering in his eyes as he gave a sad, pitiful little laugh.

“Oh, God, I thought I’d hit the bottom of the pits then, but that was nothing to how I’ll feel if I lose you. I’ll be waiting for you to come to me and say you’re ready to be my wife, but don’t wait too long, Jade, because if I can’t have you, I’d rather be dead.”

“Bryan, wait—”

He did not heed her call but continued on his way, slamming the door with finality after him.

She felt the tempest birth within her, for he had ignited provoking questions she did not know how to answer. Was he right? Did she secretly hope that once Colt learned she was alive, he would throw away the life he’d made since believing her dead and run to her arms? Was that the real reason she’d shied away from setting a wedding date?

She had no answers, knew only that she felt a sudden void in her heart with Bryan’s angry, wretched departure.

Just then Lita came out of her bedroom, sleepily rubbing her eyes. “What was all that about? Sounded like the two of you were fighting, and—”

“Lita!” Jade coldly interrupted her. “You forget anything you overheard. It’s no concern of yours. Now, good night,” she curtly dismissed her.

Lita frowned, turned away as she mumbled, “Whatever you say, but Mr. Stevens is such a nice man…can’t understand how you’d let him leave so angry.”

Jade went to her bed and lay down, knowing sleep would escape her this miserably tormenting night, for in her brain, her heart, was a maelstrom of uncertainty.

Colt.

Bryan.

She admitted to loving both, in different but equal ways; wondered, painfully, which one she’d choose if there was a choice.

Suddenly her eyes fell on the ring Kitty Coltrane had given her on her wedding day, and she knew, with a wrenching jolt to her heart, what that choice would be.

But it was too late.

Chapter Twenty

Once her anger had subsided a bit, Jade realized that not to make a decision was, in itself, a kind of resolution. A cowardly way, perhaps, but she wasn’t about to let any man control or manipulate her, no matter how much she loved him.

She thought about selling the Riverside Drive house and giving Bryan his money back. Without him, it meant nothing. She could get an apartment, but with one and a half million people in the city needing homes, she knew that might be difficult. However, if a vacancy developed in the beautiful eight-story Navarro Flats bordering Central Park, that would be ideal, and meanwhile, the situation with Bryan might be resolved. If he couldn’t realize she had to have time to decide about the future, well… She ordered herself to try not to think about it.

After the waffle party, Jade found herself besieged with requests for dance lessons. Everyone, it seemed, wanted to learn to waltz, and several mothers, hearing she’d once been a prima ballerina, inquired about the possibility of lessons for their young daughters. Accordingly, she turned her attention away from refurbishing her home, which no longer seemed so important because of the situation with Bryan, and, instead, pursued the dream of her studio.

She found the ideal place on the third floor of a brownstone just off Broadway. Due to lack of funds, it had never been divided into offices and was just a large, empty space which suited her purposes completely. Immediately, she negotiated terms for a lease, then set out to have the room completed for her simple needs. She directed that the three walls without windows should be covered in mirrors and had a carpenter build the barres along those walls.

Teaching children was one thing, working with adults, another. Perhaps she’d even meet young people like herself, with similar interests, thereby cultivating friendships besides the older ladies whose entire world seemed devoted to attending teas and hosting them.

Teas! Jade had come to dread the dainty invitations that arrived daily. Two until five was the time decreed proper, hours she felt were filled with mindless chatter and gossip as dozens of fashionably dressed women vied to outdo one another, constantly worried about being dropped from the Social Register should they commit a faux pas. Sipping tea or coffee, nibbling crumpets or cookies—it seemed such a waste of time. Jade much preferred to fill her days with dance, music, creativity. If it weren’t for the constant turmoil of her personal life, she knew there was no place more exhilarating than New York.

When a dinner invitation came from her next-door neighbors on Riverside Drive, Victor and Marietta Winslow, Jade accepted. She’d met them on numerous occasions, and liked them. And Marietta had expressed an interest in ballet lessons for her eight-year-old twin daughters, Hope and Charity.

As the carriage turned onto Riverside the evening of the dinner, Jade’s driver called over his shoulder, annoyed, “Lady, I don’t know how much closer I can get. Seems there’s a big crowd out in the street.”

Leaning forward, Jade craned her neck to see that the way did look difficult, with carriages, horses, and people milling about, and they all seemed to be congregated in front of the Winslow house. She paid her fare, said she’d walk the rest of the way, suddenly dreading the evening if there was to be a large number of guests.

As she drew closer, the reason for the situation became evident. Everyone had gathered to look at that still-strange invention called an automobile. This one, Jade saw as she stood on tiptoe, resembled a carriage with no horse, and it had funny-looking wheels.

“It’s a Benz-Viktoria,” the man beside her proudly said, showing off his knowledge. ‘It runs on gas and air, and they say it’s got the power of three horses.”

Fascinated, she asked how fast it would travel.

“They say maybe you can cover the distance of fifteen or twenty miles in an hour. Can you imagine?”

“No, I can’t,” she said and laughed, “but I’m getting to the point where nothing amazes me anymore. I read the other day that before the war, your Civil War, I believe you call it, it took about sixty-one hours to produce an acre of hand-grown wheat. Now, with the mere push of a button, it takes only three hours and nineteen minutes.”

He stared at her, wide-eyed and openmouthed, and suddenly she realized he was actually offended by her enlightenment. She was forced to remember that to most men, women were to be seen, not heard. Obviously, in his eyes, she was out of place.

“I read a lot,” she said with a shrug.

“I see.” His eyes were cold.

Lifting her chin ever so defiantly, she backed away and moved toward the house, feeling his gaze upon her all the way. So ridiculous, she fumed.

Marietta Winslow was standing on her porch, watching the crowd. After exchanging greetings with Jade, she urged, “Do come on in. I’ve special shrimp dainties and a lovely fruit punch for starters, but don’t nibble too much,” she warned. “My cooks have spent all day and most of last night preparing the twelve courses to be served. Later, because it’s such a lovely evening, with the promise of a full moon, we’re going to have champagne and berries on the terrace overlooking the river.”

Jade left the ogling crowd and followed Marietta into the house.

“Mr. Winslow is working late,” Marietta said, speaking of her husband in the proper form all good wives used. Cheerily, she added, “Maybe he’ll give Bryan a ride. They work in the same building. The Stevens offices are just a floor above the bank where Mr. Winslow is president.”

Jade made a face her hostess did not see. Everyone knew Victor Winslow was president of New York Commerce Bank and Trust. There was no need to mention it, but she was proud. So be it. “Bryan won’t be joining me tonight,” Jade quietly informed her hostess.

Marietta turned, her disappointment and annoyance quite evident in her sudden frown. “Oh? But the invitation was for you both, and I set a place for him.”

Jade firmly defended herself. “Well, I responded for just one. I’m sorry if there has been a misunderstanding.”

Marietta Winslow was dying to know why Jade had not invited Bryan but was too much a lady to pry. So, with a resigned sigh, she walked across the foyer, through the double mahogany-paneled doors, and into the long, garishly furnished dining room. Jade complimented her on the lovely crystal-and-gold chandeliers, and she thanked her, commenting, “I know incandescent lighting and electricity are the latest thing, but I still feel candles are much more romantic.”

Jade readily agreed, and was glad to see the ornate silver candelabra on the table, with their lovely pink tapers.

Walking to the other side of the pearwood table, with its grandiose seating for twenty-four, Marietta removed a white place card lettered in elegant black script,
Mr. Bryan Stevens, Esquire
.

Jade felt no regret. After all, she’d made the proper response, and it wasn’t her fault if Marietta hadn’t noticed. Suddenly her eyes fell on another place card, which read,
Mrs. Triesta Vordane
. Jade forced her voice to be calm, natural, as she softly inquired, “Have you known Mrs. Vordane long?”

“Heavens, yes. Too long!” Marietta snatched the card from the table. “And I forgot she’s not coming…sent her regrets at the last moment. Well, at least we can have an even seating for twenty-two. Such a strange lady,” she added with a soft chuckle.

It was a real struggle for Jade to appear only vaguely interested. “Really? Why is that?”

Marietta detested gossip, but when someone inquired about someone she disliked, she did not shy away from the conversation. “In the first place,” she confided, “no one has ever really liked Mrs. Vordane. She’s a malicious gossip and a very cruel snob. Why, I don’t know, because she came from trash, I hear. Anyway, her husband, may he rest in peace, was a jewel. Everyone adored Franklin Vordane. So of course she was accepted, because of his social position.”

A pity, Jade thought sardonically, that the same could not be said of Bryan and Marnia.

“We include her in a few things from time to time,” Marietta went on to explain as she called to a servant to remove the place settings for Triesta and Bryan. “Out of respect to Mr. Vordane, of course, but I think this will be my last time. It was rude the way she canceled at the last moment. She had the gall to send her maid for the invitation list, would you believe it? And her maid returned with her regrets. Didn’t say why. No excuse whatsoever. The nerve of her! I suppose she saw a name on the list she didn’t like and decided not to come, and that really makes me angry. I can’t think of anyone she could disapprove of.”

I can
, Jade thought bitterly, but said nothing. Now she was almost certain Triesta had recognized her at the waffle party, then seen her name on the invitation list for Marietta’s and chosen to avoid her. But why? It didn’t make sense. Maybe it was time she started doing a bit of investigating on her own.