Love and Dreams: The Coltrane Saga, Book 6 (31 page)

All about her were pieces of furniture she had never seen before; chosen, of course, by Lita Tulane.

She felt Bryan’s touch and cringed as he whispered against her ear, “My welcome-home surprise to you, my precious.” Then he said in a hearty, booming voice that denoted how impressed he was with himself, “It was all planned carefully in the last few days before we got married and left. I rehired Lita because she agreed to oversee the work on the house and take care of all the details for our reception this Saturday night. You don’t have to lift a finger, darling, just sit back and enjoy it all, like the true queen you are!”

“Everything is taken care of—food, drink, an orchestra, flowers,” Lita announced proudly. “We’ve had acceptances from every one of the hundred and twenty-five invitations that were delivered along with the announcements the day you were married. It took a lot of work, but I was happy to oblige,” she added, seeking praise.

“You’ll be properly rewarded,” Bryan assured her. “Now that my beautiful bride has seen how efficient you are, she’ll never let you go. You’re a marvel, Miss Tulane. Isn’t she, dear?” he prodded Jade.

Jade continued to stand mute…and angrier than she’d ever been in her whole life.

Sensing she was not enthralled, Bryan quickly pointed out, “If you don’t like some things, you can always change them later. The main thing was to get everything ready for the reception so we could have it as soon as we got back.”

It was only with great effort that Jade was able to hold her head high and walk in silence, stiffly, from the room and, upstairs. She looked straight ahead, not wanting to see anything around her. Her teeth were so tightly ground together that her jaw ached, but she was determined not to lose control in front of the servants or Lita.

Bryan was right behind her. “Jade, darling, what’s wrong? Aren’t you happy over your surprise? Lita’s worked awfully hard, and I thought you’d be pleased. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She made it to the master suite, took one look at the garish wallpaper Lita had selected, and as soon as Bryan was inside the room, slammed the door so hard that a vase she hated on sight teetered on its pedestal.

Drawing in a deep, ragged breath, hands on her hips, eyes squinted furiously, Jade stared up at him and said in a ragged whisper, “How could you? How could you do this to me? How could you go behind my back and rehire Lita and then give her complete rein to decorate my house? Bryan, I didn’t think you were capable of being so deceitful, so…so goddamn audacious and presumptuous!”

His face paled slightly before her assault. “I…I thought—”

“You weren’t thinking of a damn thing except your damn reception,” she accused, whirling about and starting to pace up and down the room, waving her arms in frustration. “Look at it! Just look at the furniture, the draperies, the paint and paper. I can’t believe any of this.”

His own ire was rising over her ungratefulness, as well as her unladylike cursing, and he snapped, “It isn’t the end of the world. You can change all of it.”

“Before your precious reception?” She turned abruptly to challenge him. “Is there time in the next two days to rip all of this—this exhibition of poor taste out of the house so people won’t think
I’m
responsible?”

“It’s not that important.”

“Not important?” she echoed incredulously. “That’s strange, coming from you, Bryan. Sometimes I think that’s all you care about—what other people think. Isn’t that the reason you planned all this? Because you wanted to have a party to show off the minute we got back so people wouldn’t be offended by our not having a fancy wedding and inviting them? Dear God, Bryan, I can’t believe you’d do such a thing.”

He watched her as she went to stand at the window and stare out at the rolling river beyond. Feeling contrite, he moved to slip his arms about her waist. “I’m sorry. Truly, Jade, I am sorry. I guess I just wasn’t thinking. I believed I was doing us both a favor. If it means so much to you, we’ll postpone the reception, no matter what anyone thinks, and you can redecorate the way you want.”

Jade said nothing.

He nuzzled his lips against her cheek. “I love you so much,” he said wretchedly, “and I’d rather die than hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

Jade sighed, turned in his arms. She looked up into his eyes and saw how miserable he truly was. Finally, she said, “I know you meant well, Bryan. There’s nothing to do but make the best of things.”

At once he brightened. “Then you aren’t angry?”

“Let’s just say I don’t want to talk about it anymore, but please don’t ever go behind my back and do something like this again.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “I promise.” Then he murmured, “Let’s make up the best way,” and started to kiss her.

“No!” she cried, pushing him away. “I don’t feel like making love now. Just leave me alone for a while, please.”

Bryan stared at her in angry silence. Frankly, he thought she was overreacting. He’d done her a great favor, and so what if Lila’s taste didn’t suit hers? The main thing was, they could move straight into the house, have a reception right away, and later she could do things to her own choosing. To cause such an uproar, well, he didn’t think she was being fair. Maybe, he mused spitefully, she needed to be reminded of just how fortunate she was to have a husband like him…how what she considered deceitful was nothing compared to what her precious Colt had done to her—or what she thought he’d done to her, he silently corrected with malicious delight.

He went to the door, opened it, then dramatically paused before saying over his shoulder in a mock-sympathetic voice, “By the way, I didn’t tell you before now, but maybe this is the right time, when you’re doubting my feelings for you…”

She eyed him coldly, suspiciously. “Well, go on,” she snapped irritably. “What other surprises do you have for me?”

He feigned a look of compassion and pity. “Just before we left, the detectives told me Colt’s wife had a baby. Premature, they say, but healthy. I thought you should think about that while you’re so angry at me, and maybe you’ll realize what true deceit is.”

Jade reeled as though struck. She’d known that sooner or later this moment would come, yet actually hearing the news was shattering. “Bryan, what was it?”

He shrugged. “Does it matter? A son. She had a son.” He walked out and closed the door soundly behind him, leaving her with her anguish and, hopefully, the ultimate appreciation and awareness of the wonderful future he’d given her as his wife.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Even though the anger was still smoldering inside, Jade decided nothing was to be gained by arguing further. Bryan had said he’d thought he was doing her a favor, but he could not understand how sometimes he made her feel absolutely smothered. It seemed he was determined to remove every possibility or obligation from her control or concern, leaving her with not a care in the world except her roles as wife, hostess, and, ultimately, mother. That might be fine for some women, and most of the wives she met appeared perfectly content to be no more than an extension of their husbands, but she wanted an identity of her own. After all, in Russia, despite her wealth and social position, she’d managed to have a very successful career. The sooner Bryan realized she was no featherbrained fluff, the better off they, and their marriage, would be.

The reception was held as planned and went quite well. Grudgingly, Jade had to admit, but only to herself, that the food and drink Lita selected were acceptable, and the orchestra good. She refused, however, to allow the house to be opened beyond the grand parlor and the formal dining room. Instead, she opened up the French doors leading to the sweeping veranda with its view of the river and directed the party there.

Lita made a pretense of apologizing to her, saying she was only following orders from Mr. Stevens. Jade knew Lita gloated over being rehired, and was tempted to fire her again, then decided to let her stay on. After all, she was competent, and Jade had no intentions of ever letting her have such control again.

Things went smoothly until the Monday after the reception, when Jade responded to Bryan’s query as to her plans for the day. She told him she was going to her studio to see how work was progressing. “I’m really looking forward to it, too,” she said. “I haven’t had a chance to go before now, because of the reception, and I can hardly wait.”

They were in the glass morning room, having a second cup of coffee after breakfast while enjoying the lovely view. As soon as she spoke, Bryan abruptly set down his cup with a clatter, and the tense, disturbed look she knew so well came over him. “I was going through the mail yesterday,” he remarked coolly, “and I saw an invitation to Mrs. Jacobah Huffstedter’s tea at two this afternoon. Are you going to attend after you leave your studio?”

She shook her head, poured herself another cup of coffee from a delicate Derby fluted, pear-shaped coffeepot, made a mental note to tell the cook the delicate antique was for special occasions, certainly not for every day. It was far too valuable.

“And why not?”

Jade glanced up sharply. The topic was too trivial to dwell on, and she blinked herself back to the present. “What? I’m sorry. I was thinking about something else.”

“I asked why you aren’t going to Mrs. Huffstedter’s tea,” he snapped impatiently. “Her husband happens to be a very important business client, and she’s also an important social leader. I was hoping we’d get an invitation to her annual Christmas ball at the Yacht Club, but if you ignore an invitation to a tea, she’ll blackball us for sure.” He glared accusingly across the table.

Jade shrugged. She would never understand why Bryan was so tense about such things. “Well, I’ll just tell a little white lie and send Lita with regrets that I have a headache.”

“Someone might see you out. Too risky. I’d appreciate it if you’d make an effort to go, Jade. After all, it’s expected, and while we’re on the subject of the studio, I’m beginning to wonder if you should pursue it.”

Incredulously, she stammered, “Wh—what? You can’t be serious! Why, dancing is my life, and teaching is my dream!” She sat back in her chair to stare at him in disbelief that he could even suggest such a thing.

He laced his fingers together, stared through the window at the sloping lawn, the river beyond, then, with a smirk, queried, “How can you dance when you’re carrying a child?”

“I’m not pregnant, Bryan, and I’ll worry about it when the time comes. I thought you understood, that you shared my dream.”

His smile was patronizing. “Dreams have a way of yielding to reality, Jade, and the reality is that you’re my wife now, and you have responsibilities. One of them is to involve yourself socially. I want you to attend that tea.”

Jade knew it was as close as Bryan would probably ever come to giving her a direct order; because they both were well aware of her aversion to dominance by anyone. Yet she had to admit she held his happiness in regard as well, and if it meant so much to him, then she’d yield. “Very well,” she finally told him, albeit reluctantly. “I’ll make an appearance, but I can’t promise when, because you know it’s not always possible to get a hackney when you want one.”

The tension was gone, and he looked at her gratefully. “Maybe it’s time we bought a carriage just for you, perhaps one of the new ‘horseless’ carriages?” he suggested.

“I’m not ready for that,” she laughed. “We’ll consider the four-legged kind, all right?”

Later in the morning, after Jade had inspected her studio, delighted to find all going well, she was walking down a side street just off Broadway when a new shop caught her eye. A strange apparatus hung above the door that she recognized as a relative of “Gladys”, Miss Frances Willard’s bicycle. Curious, she went inside, and a proud-looking little man came from behind a counter to welcome her with a sweeping bow.

“Good morning, miss. Welcome to Buster Ranahan’s Bicycle Emporium. I happen to be Mr. Ranahan, but you can call me Buster.”

Jade laughed. He was such a pleasant person. “I’m Mrs. Bryan Stevens,” she introduced herself. “That’s my dancing studio opening just a few blocks away.”

He nodded sympathetically. “Then you’ve as hard a row to hoe as I, ma’am, because dance schools are about as strange to folks around here as my bicycles.” He motioned her to follow him. “I’ll be honest with you, I don’t have any interest in learning how to dance, but I’ll make you a good deal on one of my new machines just the same. All the ladies are loving them, they are, once they get over the newness. Now take this one…”

He displayed a model, which he explained was the newest diamond-pattern frame. It had two medium-sized wheels of equal diameter. “It’s called the ‘safety bicycle’ because of its stability and braking power. It’s much better than the old-fashioned, high front-wheeled type, the one called the ‘ordinary’. I’ve got some with solid rubber tires, but this one has the new ones—they’re called ‘pneumatics’, invented in Europe by a Belfast veterinarian, and everybody says these’ll make the ‘ordinary’ a thing of the past.”

“I like this model. Is it hard to learn to ride?” Jade asked.

“Come on, I’ll show you!” He was beaming. A lovely lady like her, seen riding one of his bicycles, was sure to be good for business.

Jade was wearing a blouse of pale blue linen with just a tickle of ruffles at her chin, a long skirt, and a short fitted jacket of matching dark blue cotton. Her hat was a pancake design, a revival of the Warreau fashion, trimmed with bright, artificial pansies. White gloves and white, high-button leather shoes completed her outfit. She’d decided she looked casual enough to visit her studio, but sufficiently elegant for Mrs. Huffstedter’s tea without having to return home to change. As she whimsically stared at the bicycle, however, tempted to try to ride it, she wondered whether she dared take a chance on getting her clothes mussed.