by Renee Ryan
She was the embodiment of Christian integrity.
“Caroline might have come from humble beginnings,” he said. “But she is the best woman I know. Better than all of you combined.” He made his declaration in a loud, firm voice, daring anyone to speak out against her, willing her to hear the pledge in his words, to see the promise in his eyes.
But she had already turned away and was pushing frantically through the crowd.
Jackson rushed after her, shoving through the tangle of people, uncaring if he stepped on toes or crushed dresses.
His eyes were locked on Caroline’s retreating back. The crowd let her pass far too easily, but then closed in behind her. Helplessness washed over him.
He conquered the stairs two at a time. He nearly caught up to her in the lobby but lost sight of her again. He darted through a small gap in the throng and then pushed through another, searching desperately for her familiar cloud of dark hair.
There she was. At the revolving doors. One last shove and she disappeared into the night, out into the streets.
Alone. She was all alone.
Panic eating at him, he quickened his pace, pushing hard, shoving anyone who got in his way. So many people. Several shouted at him to turn around. He knew he was heading in the wrong direction. Yet he persevered. All the while, one thought echoed in his mind. One terrible, dismal thought.
He’d failed Caroline. He’d failed to protect her from her aunt, from the terrible repercussions of a scandal she’d done nothing to deserve. And now she was alone on the streets of New York, with no one to stand by her side. Not even him, after he’d vowed never to abandon her.
He only hoped he wasn’t too late to make things right.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Thanks to a hired carriage and a clear night, Caroline arrived back at Granny’s in record time. Avoiding the clever matriarch required considerable stealth and skills Caroline had honed through the years. Quiet steps and calm, silent breathing, avoidance of the light while keeping to the shadows. The moon was bright that night, making her journey all the more difficult.
Her smooth, unhindered arrival to her room only magnified the reality of who she was at her core. A woman destined to be alone, always alone.
Katherine St. James, for all her malice and spite, had been brutally correct. Caroline didn’t belong in this world.
She didn’t belong anywhere.
Holding back her emotions awhile longer, just a little bit longer, she shut the door behind her, leaned her back against the smooth wood, and finally broke.
Hiccuping sobs quaked through her body.
“Jackson, oh, Jackson, what you must be suffering because of me.” She raised her hand to her throat. “I’m sorry.” She whispered the apology into the moonlit room. “So very sorry.”
Eyes shut, she slipped to the floor and buried her head in her hands. The tears that had been burning in her eyes since she’d left the opera house spilled unhindered down her cheeks.
She cried for all that was lost. Cried for ruining Jackson’s sterling reputation, which he’d worked so hard to build. Cried for the love she’d almost had within her reach.
Love. What did Caroline really know about love? She only knew how to be alone, how to guard her heart and push people away. She knew how to fight and, now, she knew how to run.
She fought back another onslaught of tears, a useless indulgence when courage was needed.
“I will not feel sorry for myself. I will not.” A sob tried to work its way past her throat. She gulped it back with ruthless control. “I must be strong.”
She rose quickly to her feet, too quickly. Her head grew light, her vision blurred, and she stumbled several steps forward. Reaching out, she steadied herself on a nearby table. Once she had her balance, she looked down, noted the book beneath her palm.
Her mother’s worn Bible. Libby St. James’s one great treasure that she’d carried with her to every shack and hovel in which they’d lived. Her words of advice came back to Caroline, words she’d dismissed until now. “This is a guidebook for life, Caroline, but only if you choose to listen to the Holy Spirit’s urgings.”
Was her answer here, in this tattered Bible? Were the answers to life really so simple?
Hands shaking, Caroline opened to a page at random, skimmed the words in the dim moonlight, and stopped at a verse that caught her eye. Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.
Love, real love, was about sacrifice. She knew that, had understood it in her heart for most of her life.
If she truly loved Jackson, Caroline had to let him go. She had to leave New York. If she stayed, Jackson would be shunned from all the good homes in town, as would the rest of her family.
She wouldn’t do that to the people she loved.
Despite her conviction, a wave of despair crested. Caroline had been certain she’d found her home, a place to call her own. The dream had been within her reach.
But only for a little while.
Holding back the tears, she flipped to another page of the Bible. Her mother had underlined a verse in Deuteronomy. The LORD thy God, he it is that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.
Was it true? Would Caroline never truly be alone? Would God go with her, always, no matter where she went next?
So simple, yet so very difficult to put into practice.
Hands still shaking, she set down her mother’s Bible and went in search of Sally. She found the girl in her adjoining room, in a chair, reading, with a pair of spectacles perched on her nose. She looked unnaturally still, as if her mind was somewhere else and the words weren’t quite registering.
“Sally, I need you to help me pack.” Caroline blurted out the request.
“You want to pack?” Sally pulled her brows together. “Tonight?”
“Yes, tonight. Right now.”
“But, Caroline.” She closed the book and set it on the table beside her. “Where are you going at such a late hour?”
“I”—she looked wildly around the room—“don’t know. A hotel, I suppose.”
“You’re upset.” Sally came to her and took her hands. “Tell me what’s happened.”
Caroline stared up at the ceiling, attempting to sort through her thoughts, to order them in a proper sequence. Unable to make sense of the last few hours and needing a friend desperately, Caroline revealed what her aunt had done at the opera.
When she came to the part about hiring a carriage to rush home on her own, she stopped talking. The ache in her heart was too great to continue.
She’d found the love of a good and decent man, only to have it ripped away from her in a matter of minutes. A tremendous void of loneliness—no family, no future, no Jackson—that was what lay ahead.
No. She would not give in to self-pity. She must take action, must put a plan into motion. Must. Press. On.
Squaring her shoulders, she drew in a fortifying breath. “I’ll begin sorting my clothes while you retrieve my trunk from storage.”
Sally opened her mouth to argue the point, but Caroline spoke over her. “Please. No advice. No questions. I just need your support.”
“All right, then.” The girl gave her one firm nod. “If this is what you want, I won’t just help you pack. I’ll go with you.”
“Thank you.”
“Granny will be disappointed.”
Caroline sighed. “I’ll explain it to her as best I can.”
They moved back into her bedchamber, through the adjoining door, and stopped dead in their tracks at the sound of insistent knocking. “Caroline, open up.”
Jackson. He had followed her after all.
She stared at the shut door, frozen in place.
In the next instant, the door swung open and slammed into the wall with a loud bang.
Jackson stood in the doorway, hair windblown, clothes disheveled, eyes a little wild. Caroline’s pulse fluttered, but she fought to stay calm. But, oh—oh my—even in his
unruly state, he radiated power, with a slight edge of danger. This was the man she wanted by her side, forever, but Caroline couldn’t have him, not without hurting him.
An impossible situation with no easy resolution in sight.
Gaze locked with hers, Jackson swept into the room. Trapped inside all that intensity, Caroline felt overwhelmed, disoriented. A sound of dismay slipped past her lips.
Sally, ever the faithful friend, moved directly in his path. “Mr. Montgomery, you cannot be here. It isn’t proper.”
“Propriety is not my first concern.” The desperation in his words had Caroline’s throat constricted with emotion.
What was he saying? That he didn’t care what others thought of him, of her?
Hope kindled in her heart. She suppressed the sensation with a hard swallow.
“You will leave us now.” Eyes hooded, Jackson took Sally’s arm and escorted her firmly, yet gently, toward the door. “Do not try to return until you are called for.”
“Now wait just a minute.” Sally pulled on her arm. “Mr. Montgomery, you cannot show up in a lady’s bedchamber and demand a private audience.”
“Not to worry, Sally. I have no plans of harming Caroline.”
Doubt flickered over the maid’s pale features. “If you do, you will answer to me.”
He nodded. “Fair enough.”
Touched by their mutual concern for her, Caroline couldn’t look at either of them a moment longer. She moved to the window and gazed out into the night. The big silver moon gleamed over the city. Stars glittered like ice crystals in the sky.
A soft click told her Jackson had shut the door behind Sally.
They were alone. Just the two of them. In her bedchamber. If word of this private audience got out, the damage done at the opera would be magnified, irrevocably so.
“You shouldn’t be alone with me like this.” She clasped her hands together at her waist. “It can only make matters worse for you.”
“Caroline.” He managed to make her name an apology, which made no sense at all. What did he have to apologize for when she was the one who had brought disaster into his life?
“Please, my sweet girl, turn around and look at me.”
When she didn’t do as he requested, he placed his hand on her shoulder. She felt his frustration in his touch, and his guilt. His guilt?
She turned to face him.
The look in his eyes—the unspeakable love and devotion, the hint of sorrow—it took her breath away. The truth hit her square in the chest. Jackson was going to fight for her, for them.
No. Caroline couldn’t let him destroy himself like that. “I want you to leave.”
A muscle shifted in his jaw. For a tense moment, he didn’t speak, just simply looked at her. “Not until I have my say.”
“There’s nothing more to be said.” She laid a hand on his arm and forced herself to speak the words they both needed to hear. “We can’t be together, not after what happened tonight.”
Even to her own ears her voice was thin and high-pitched, filled with the sound of her misery.
“I beg to disagree.”
Clearly, the man was as stubborn as she was. “The damage has already been done to my reputation, but yours can still be salvaged if you disassociate yourself from me at once.”
“You think I would walk away from you, from us, from what we could have together, because of a little gossip?”
Wouldn’t he? “You’ve worked so hard to restore your family’s good name. I won’t be the cause of—”
“Caroline St. James, you have a lot to learn about your future husband.” He pulled her into his arms then, held her tightly against him when she struggled. “I don’t care what the gossips say about you, me, us.”
The first stirrings of hope fluttered to life, sweeping through her despair like a cool, soothing breeze. “The gossip will not be kind.”
“No, it won’t. But I know who you are, Caroline, at the core of your very being.” He tightened his arms around her. “You are a precious child of God who makes me want to be the best man I can be.”
She sighed against him, petrified he didn’t know what he was saying, praying that he did.
“Hear me,” he continued. “I know what I’m getting myself into. I’ve weathered this particular storm before and will do so again gladly. Because, this time, I enter the fray by choice. And I promise I will do whatever it takes to ensure the road is as easy for you as possible.”
Pressing her cheek against his chest, she closed her eyes and sighed again. Yielding, trembling . . . hoping. So much hope building inside her. “You have to be absolutely sure. There cannot be any doubt in your mind.” Her throat cinched around a sob. “Or we will be doomed to failure.”
Slowly, carefully, he set her away from him and stared into her eyes. The light of the moon gilded his face, revealing the raw emotion in his eyes. “I love you, Caroline. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“Oh, Jackson.”
He lowered to one knee and took her hand. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Looking down into his honest, handsome face, Caroline felt a conflicting rush of fear and pleasure, coupled with a tingling in her toes.
“I love you,” she whispered. “So very much.”
He smiled in response, making it difficult for her to breathe. “You haven’t answered me yet. Will you, Caroline? Will you marry me?”
“Yes.” She pulled her hand free and cupped his face. The beginning of stubble on his jaw was rough against her palm. “Yes, yes, yes. I will marry you.”
He stood. “As soon as possible?”
“As soon as possible,” she confirmed, liking the idea very much. Very much, indeed.
“I’ll ask your grandfather for his permission first thing in the morning.”
Touched beyond all reason, she couldn’t help but tease him a little. “That’s all very proper of you.”
He stilled, every muscle in his body tense and unmoving. “This has nothing to do with propriety.” His face grew serious, all brooding energy and suppressed power. “It’s about treating you with the respect you deserve.”
“Ah, there he is. The good, decent man I fell in love with that day on Orchard Street.” She smiled at him. “It’s true, you know. I have loved you from the first moment our eyes met.”
“Another point on which we agree.” He drew her close, wrapped his arms around her waist. “I have loved you from that first moment as well.”
Joy burst in her heart. “Thank you, Jackson, thank you for wanting to go to my grandfather and ask for my hand properly. I can’t think of a more fitting way to begin our life together.”
“I can.” With masculine intent in his eyes, he pressed his lips to hers in a long, thorough, and really quite scandalous kiss.
Epilogue
Caroline and Jackson were married exactly two months to the day after the scandal broke. Their wedding was the most talked-about event of the season and, paradoxically, the least attended. Despite the convenient hour of the ceremony, and the lack of any other scheduled events that day, the good people of New York refused to grace the church with their presence.
By the morning of the blessed event, Caroline had been discussed, scrutinized, and ultimately deemed unworthy to enter every drawing room in their fair city. Katherine St. James had done her damage but was unable to enjoy the spoils of her efforts as she’d been unceremoniously banished to the family estate in Florida.
According to her husband, she was fortunate to have a home at all.
No one was more surprised by Jackson’s nonchalant attitude over the gossip and subsequent turn of events than Caroline. For a man who had once insisted on living above reproach and who had followed the rules of society to the letter, he’d become quite indifferent to his peers’ good opinion of him, or rather lack thereof. He told anyone who would listen that he was madly in love with Caroline, and she with him. No amount of talk could sway either of them from their
devotion to one another, or their families.
Caroline thanked God every day for her blessings, of which there were many. The Lord had filled the dark places in her soul with light. She vowed to honor Him in every facet of her life, her marriage, and even in her work at the magazine and garment factory.
Waiting for her cue from the reverend, Caroline stood in the back of the church and peeked into the sanctuary. She looked past the rows and rows—and rows—of empty pews and fixed her gaze on the farthest two up front.
She smiled at the sight of the assembled guests dressed in all their finery. Immediate family and a few dear friends had arranged themselves in a haphazard manner on either side of the aisle, guests of the bride intermixed with guests of the groom.
It was incredibly nontraditional of them and really rather perfect, to Caroline’s way of thinking.
Thank you, Lord, she whispered silently in her heart, embracing the sheer joy of the moment. The most important people in her life had come to share her most important day.
Mary and her family were there, sharing a pew with Caroline’s uncle and Monsieur Lappet. Granny and Jackson’s mother sat just one row behind them.
On the other side of the aisle was Jackson’s assistant, John Reilly, looking exceedingly handsome in a dark suit and tie. Warren Griffin sat on his son’s left, while Elizabeth had commandeered the empty spot on Lucian’s right. In his casual manner, he’d looped his arm over the back of the pew behind her.
Elizabeth seemed tense, more so than usual. Ever since her mother had left town, the poor girl had struggled with finding her way. Everything she’d ever known and believed in had been shattered.
Caroline sent up a silent prayer for her dear cousin.
Opening her eyes, she noted that her groom and grandfather were nowhere in sight. Wondering where they could be, Caroline leaned forward for a better look.
“Get back here, this instant,” Sally hissed. “No one can be allowed to see you before the ceremony begins.”
“Why not?”
“It’ll ruin the moment.” Sally physically pulled her back into the foyer of the church.