Toward the Sunrise (14 page)

He looked crisp and dapper in the sunshine, his tie artfully arranged and tucked into a lapis-blue satin vest. She was
not
going to get emotional about this, despite the sudden lump in her throat. He was here merely as a courtesy, as Mr. Vandermark’s representative.

She cleared her throat. “Thank you for the graduation present. It was very thoughtful. I hadn’t even thought of mosquito netting, but it will be very useful, I am sure.”

Why was he looking at her so strangely? Everyone else in the garden was laughing and embracing, but Ashton gazed at her cautiously, as though he feared she were about to burst into flame.

“I brought another gift,” he said hesitantly.

“You did?” His graduation gift had been overflowing with highly practical goods: yards of mosquito netting, good rubber boots, insect repellant. It was thoughtful but impersonal and, she had to admit, a little disappointing.

“Yes, I have another gift,” he said. “The problem is that it is something that should belong only to my wife—”

She couldn’t hear anything else he said. The world tilted and swayed. “You have
a wife
?” she shrieked.

She planted both hands on his chest and gave a little shove, pushing him off the sidewalk and into the patch of crocuses. “You have a wife and didn’t tell me? You let me go all that time in the goat barn . . .”

She was shouting now, and everyone in the garden swiveled to stare at them, but she didn’t care. He deserved the public embarrassment for misleading her so. His face flushed crimson, and he tugged at his collar.

“I
hope
someday to have a wife,” he clarified hurriedly. “Why must you always be so literal?”

She was dizzy with relief and thankful to see he was already starting to laugh at her outburst. “You nearly scared a year off my life.”

Ashton stepped back onto the path, kicking some mulch from the soles of his fancy shoes. She felt a little bad about the shoes; Ashton did put a lot of stock in nice shoes.

“Come here,” he said quietly, tugging her into a warm embrace. “Your face is still white, and I think we both need this.”

She hugged him back. Groups of spectators were still looking at them curiously, but let them look. Ashton cared enough to come to her graduation and he didn’t have a wife, so suddenly everything seemed a little brighter in her world.

He kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear. “In my left pocket I have my mother’s engagement ring. My father asked me to give it to the woman I intend to marry. So I’ve come to Philadelphia, hoping I can convince you to try it on.”

She couldn’t quite believe her ears. This wasn’t good. The prospect of marrying Ashton Carlyle was beyond her wildest dreams, but he had made it plain that his future lay in New York.

She pulled back and looked up into his face, wincing at the anticipation she saw. “I’ve already accepted a position in Malaya,” she began.

“So have I.”

It seemed impossible, but as they stood in the garden, he outlined his new position for the Vandermark shipping empire. “I will be traveling a lot but will be based in Kuala Lumpur,” he said. “We’ll be able to live in the same place, except for when I make trips to the other properties.”

“I don’t understand . . .”

“I love you,” he said hoarsely. “I’ve loved you ever since you were eighteen years old and started sending me letters about the joy of pulmonary functions and ice skating in the park and why Chinese spices have never been properly used in American cuisine. You are the woman I want to marry.” He swallowed nervously. “And I really hope you’ll be willing to try on my mother’s ring.”

Her heart swelled and threatened to burst. She loved him too, for their week in the goat barn had been the most joyous week of her life.

“I don’t need to try it on to know that it fits,” she said. Somehow, since the moment Ashton had showed up in the goat barn, she’d known they would fit together beautifully.

They were married the following week in New York City, with his father standing as best man.

It had been the most hectic week of Ashton’s life. Between planning a hasty wedding, closing up his office, and packing to travel to the other side of the world, Ashton’s life was already more adventurous for having married Julia.

His final responsibility before heading overseas was training a new attorney to handle the affairs at Dierenpark. He drove with Mr. Grady up to the estate to tour the old mansion and the historic pier where the Vandermark shipping empire had been launched almost three centuries ago. When he showed Mr. Grady to the groundskeeper’s cottage, he took extra care to explain the importance of tending to the needs of the Broeders.

“I was warned about how superstitious and eccentric Nickolaas Vandermark can be, especially where the Broeder family is concerned. I didn’t realize how imperative this was until I ran afoul of one of the Broeders.” He smiled secretly. The Broeder he’d run afoul of was now his wife. Julia was still in the city, packing their final trunks before they both set sail tomorrow. “Emil Broeder isn’t the brightest man you will ever meet, but he’s harmless and shouldn’t cause any trouble.”

Ashton hoped to sample a bit of Sophie’s baking before heading back to the train station, for Sophie was to baking what Michelangelo was to the Sistine Chapel, but he was destined for disappointment.

“Sophie isn’t here,” the housekeeper said when they entered the kitchen. “She’s up on the roof.”

When he asked what she meant, the housekeeper assured him that the widow’s walk made the roof perfectly safe and that ever since her fiancé had died Sophie had been spending an inordinate amount of time up on the roof.

Ashton hesitated. He didn’t want to intrude on her privacy, but he worried about Sophie. She was probably the kindest, gentlest person he’d ever met, but she seemed too fragile to survive in the world. And he didn’t like the thought of her alone on that roof. He’d probably read too many gloomy Russian novels, but grieving women and rooftops did not seem like a healthy combination. He glanced at Mr. Grady.

“Give me just a moment,” he said. “I need to say good-bye to Sophie.”

Stepping out onto the roof of Dierenpark was a breathtaking experience. From here he could see miles up the river, to endless forests blanketing the hillsides in a thousand shades of green. He scanned the roof until he spotted Sophie.

What in the world? She sprang to her feet, a guilty flush on her face. The notebook she’d been writing in flopped to the ground, its pages fluttering in the breeze. He looked at the contraptions on the table beside her—thermometers, weird brass dials, and equipment he couldn’t begin to name.

“What’s going on up here?”

“It’s n-nothing,” she stammered.

“Funny, it looks like a scientific laboratory to me. What have you been doing up here?”

This might explain Sophie’s near-constant presence at Dierenpark. Julia had assumed it was because Sophie was mourning her lost fiancé, but it appeared there was something else drawing the lovely Miss van Riijn to Dierenpark.

He listened to Sophie explain herself and agreed that her activities up here were probably of little consequence, but he still felt obligated to report them. The Vandermarks were notoriously private people, and they had a right to know of all happenings at Dierenpark.

He told Julia about his odd encounter with Sophie the next morning as they stood in line to board the steamer that would take them on the long journey, first to India and then on to Malaya. Julia told him he was being paranoid.

“Sophie is completely harmless,” she assured him. “She’s been operating that weather station for nine years, and no one has ever complained.”

“That’s because we didn’t know about it.” The Vandermarks would know about it soon. Immediately upon returning to the city, he’d made arrangements to notify Quentin Vandermark via telegram about Sophie’s activities. Quentin’s reputation for ferocity was even worse than his grandfather’s, but rumor had it that Quentin was living in some remote hideaway tucked deep into the forests of Austria, so with luck, Sophie would never have to deal with him.

They walked up the steep planking to board the steamer, getting higher with each step. As they climbed, he felt his worries and concerns about Dierenpark fade and dissolve as he looked toward the future. From the deck of the ship, they had an excellent view of the Manhattan skyline, which was growing taller every year. He pulled Julia against his front, his arms around her waist so they could both take a parting view of New York. It was an amazing city: bold, brawling, alive, and vibrant. It was commerce and innovation, a marvelous city where on any block dozens of languages could be heard haggling, planning, arguing, and celebrating. It had been an extraordinary place to come of age, but it was in his past now. His future lay in the Far East.

He and Julia stayed at the railing as the ship left the harbor. Fading into the distance he could see the awe-inspiring Brooklyn Bridge. No matter how far or wide he traveled, he doubted he would ever see another bridge so magnificent. He hugged Julia close as the ship passed the Statue of Liberty, Fort Hamilton, and Gravesend Bay. In a few minutes, the crowded, joyous, wonderful city would be only a speck on the horizon. A piece of his soul would always love New York, but for now he and Julia were going to chase their dreams. He had a woman whose far-flung ambitions matched his, and together they would head toward the sunrise as it rose over a distant shore.

Keep reading for a special excerpt from Elizabeth Camden’s
Until the Dawn
, the story of Sophie van Riijn, Quentin Vandermark, and the legacy of Dierenpark.

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