To Dream Again

by Laura Lee Guhrke

  He took a deep breath. Brushing the scraps of paper off his shoulders, he met her gaze, and she could see the rage in his eyes. "You have made a very serious mistake, madam, and you will live to regret it, I promise you. You have just destroyed Nathaniel and yourself."

  She knew he was probably right. But at this moment, she just couldn't find it within herself to be afraid. Her heart was too full of exultation for that. She smiled at him. "Well, my lord, I am only a woman, after all," she said sweetly. "We can be quite silly, you know."

  "Adrian?"

  The voice had both of them glancing toward the doorway, but Mara's gaze shifted at once back to Lord Leyland, who was staring at the woman in shock and dismay.

  "Honoria, my dear," he said awkwardly. "What are you doing here?"

  So, this was the viscount's wealthy fiancée. How delightful. Mara moved toward the doors, and the woman stepped aside to let her pass.

  "Good afternoon, Miss Montrose." Mara gave a nod and a smile to one of the world's wealthiest women before she walked out of the room.

  "What is happening here?"

  Honoria's demand caused Mara to pause a moment outside the study. She could not hear Lord Leyland's reply, only the smooth, low pitch of his voice.

  His soothing tone seemed to have little effect on the woman. "Don't patronize me, my lord. You intended to strike that woman. And what is all this talk of extortion and blackmail and coercing bankers with my money?"

  Mara smiled. Crossing the foyer, she left Lord Leyland to explain the situation to his fiancée as all his well-laid plans burned to ashes.

  ***

  When Mara returned to Whitechapel, she found no one at the factory, so she went to Nathaniel's flat. Without bothering to knock, she walked in. Following the sound of voices, she walked to the bedroom and found Nathaniel packing, Michael pacing, Finch quietly watching, and Billy crying. Everything was in quite a muddle, and none of them noticed her arrival.

  "I don't know why yer leavin', Nathaniel." Billy glared at him from his perch atop the huge mahogany bed, his eyes filled with angry tears. He punched one of the pillows. "It ain't fair."

  Nathaniel tossed his shaving kit into the open trunk on the floor. "I have to go, Billy. I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do about it."

  "Yes, there is." Michael stopped pacing and turned toward him. "You can stay here and fight."

  Nathaniel tossed another shirt into the trunk. "I can't do that."

  Michael turned to the solicitor. "Can't you persuade him?"

  Finch leaned one shoulder against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. He shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

  The engineer gave a snort of disgust. "This is ridiculous. I can find you the money to pay back the loan."

  Nathaniel stuffed a handful of socks into a corner of the trunk. "It doesn't matter."

  "Of course it does, if Joslyn Brothers is calling your

  loan. Listen, my Uncle Hiram's wife has a third cousin, Jacob, who knows Solomon Leibowitz, the moneylender. He'll give you a loan. I'm sure of it."

  "Why?" Nathaniel slammed one drawer of the wardrobe shut and opened another. "Because I'm such a good credit risk?"

  "That's not your fault. Your brother was responsible for all that. Solomon Leibowitz would love the chance at revenge against Leyland for his refusal to hire Jews. I'm sure of it."

  "I told you, it doesn't matter." Nathaniel lifted a bundle of clothes out of the drawer and dumped them haphazardly into the trunk. "I can't fight him forever. I won't put Mara through that. It's too risky."

  "But—"

  "No." Nathaniel slammed the lid down on the trunk and shoved it aside. Then he opened another and began to fill it with more of his belongings. "I won't risk Mara's future."

  Mara coughed, and all three men turned to find her standing there. "Don't you think I have something to say about it?" she asked.

  Billy jumped off the bed and ran to her, wrapping his arms around her legs. "Nathaniel says 'e's leaving, 'e says 'e ain't comin' back."

  She brushed a hand over Billy's hair, but she kept her gaze on Nathaniel. "Yes, I know what he says. But he's not going anywhere."

  Michael stopped pacing. Finch straightened away from the wall. Billy sniffed. And Nathaniel stopped packing.

  She looked at him and lifted her chin stubbornly at the scowl he gave her. Their eyes met for a moment, but he said nothing. Instead, he turned and grabbed a handful of cravats and ties out of the drawer.

  She turned to Michael. "Would you and Mr. Finch please take Billy out for some ice cream? I want to talk to Nathaniel alone."

  The two men left the office with an unpacified Billy between them.

  Mara turned to Nathaniel. "Packing already, I see?" she whispered painfully. "Were you planning to say good-bye before you left? Or did you feel a letter would suffice?"

  He continued tossing clothes into the trunk without even looking at her. "I wouldn't leave without saying good-bye."

  "Why are you doing this?" she asked.

  The question was so soft, he barely heard the words. He stopped packing and stared down at the shirt in his hands. "You know why," he answered. "Finch said he explained it all to you."

  "He did, but I want to hear it from you. Tell me why."

  "I'd hoped Adrian would back down if we could have the trains out on time. I was wrong. He would have destroyed the company. You would have lost everything. I couldn't let that happen."

  "Michael said he could find us a moneylender."

  "That's not the point." He threw the shirt into the trunk and faced her. "If I don't stop, it won't end here. You realized that long before I did. He'll keep after us until he succeeds in bankrupting us. This way, it'll only be me that's affected. You'll be secure. I've made sure of that."

  "How noble of you."

  Her sarcasm caught him by surprise. He lifted his head and looked at her, only to find her crystal gray eyes sparkling with anger.

  "So that's it, then?" Her voice began to shake, and he could hear pain behind her anger. "It's becoming too difficult here, so it's time to move on?"

  "That's not it at all!"

  "Isn't it?" She strode forward until she was a mere foot away. Tilting her chin, she looked up at him. "You came to London with a dream. You filled my head with it, you made me believe it, you made all of us believe it. And now, you intend to just turn your back on us and leave it all behind?"

  "You're the one who asked me to stop all this in the first place!"

  "Yes, and it was a mistake. I was wrong. I let my fear control me, and I wanted it to control you." She watched him shake his head from side to side, and she reached up, cupping his face in her hands to stop his denials before he could say them. "Don't you remember what you told me? You said we can't spend our lives being afraid. We have to grab what we want and hang on. Well, I'm hanging on, Nathaniel Chase, and so are you. You need to return downstairs and finish making those trains. We don't have much time. We're supposed to deliver them by Friday."

  "We can't do that. Haven't you been listening to me? I've sold Adrian the patent on the train so that Joslyn Brothers could be paid."

  "Well..." She lowered her hands and clasped them behind her back. She ducked her head and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "You didn't sell your brother the train. Not quite."

  "What do you mean?"

  She lifted her head and gave a little cough. "I...umm...I sort of threw a spanner in the works."

  "Mara, what have you done?" he demanded.

  She told him.

  "I don't believe this," he muttered when she'd finished. "Are you out of your mind?"

  "Probably. Love does that to a person."

  He didn't take in her confession of love or the fact that she was using his own words against him. He folded his arms across his chest and glared at her. "What you've done changes nothing."

  "Yes, it does. We'll deliver our trains to the stores. We'll go to this Solomon Leibowitz and obtain a loan to pay
Joslyn Brothers. When the money from the trains comes in, we reinvest it in the business and carry on."

  "And then what happens?" he asked and grabbed her hands tight in his. "Assuming we do find the money to pay back the loan, then what? What happens when Adrian finally succeeds and we lose it all?"

  "We start over." She took his hands in hers, entwining their fingers. "Together."

  She felt his hand tighten around hers at the word before he slowly pulled back and stepped away from her.

  "Then Adrian will eventually bankrupt us again," he said. "What kind of future would that be? James all over again. I love you, but I would have nothing to offer you."

  She looked up at him, wondering how to make him see that her future meant nothing without him. "Words again. Why do you love me, Nathaniel? What is there in me that you love so much that you would sacrifice all your dreams for my sake?"

  He raked a hand through his hair. "How do you expect me to answer a question like that? How am I supposed to explain?"

  "You have said I'm lovely. So, is it my beauty that you love?"

  "Not only that." The words came out slowly, as if each one caused him pain. "It's so much more than that."

  "What then? My warm heart? It was cold and empty and bitter before you came. An unlovable heart, to be sure."

  "No." He shook his head. "Not to me."

  "My courage, perhaps?" She choked out a laugh. "I, who have spent the past four years hiding from the world?"

  "You do have courage. You are a very brave woman."

  "Indeed? I don't feel brave at all. I find the idea of spending the rest of my life without you a terrifying prospect."

  "If I'm gone, Adrian won't bother you. You'll have the means to support yourself and Billy."

  "You would abandon him, too?"

  "He'll have you to care for him. His future and yours will be safe."

  "Safe?" She considered that for a moment, then she nodded. "Yes, I suppose so. I'll endure, I'll save my pennies in my little tin bank, and I'll wear gloves to hide my scars. I'll try to be a good mother to Billy. I'll hold him when he cries, I'll put on a brave face, and I'll be strong for him. But, tell me, Nathaniel, if you leave, who will be strong for me?"

  She wrapped her arms around her ribs as she felt herself splintering apart. "Who will fill me with hope when all I feel is despair? Who will fly kites with me when I feel chained to the ground and make me laugh when I want to weep? Who will give me upside-down kisses and dance with me and fill my heart with joy? Who will give me dreams to strive for and music to soothe me to sleep? Who—”

  She stopped, her voice breaking, and she lowered her head to stare at the floor, watching the tears fall unchecked to form dark circles on the wood.

  "Who will keep me from turning into a bitter, lonely, dried-up shell of a woman?" she whispered. "Because that is what I was before you came, and that is what I will become if you leave."

  She fell silent and waited, not daring to look at him, unable to breathe. The silence seemed to last an eternity, before she heard him take a step toward her. Then another. Then another.

  His hands fell on her shoulders, and she let out her breath in a soft little sob of hope as he turned her around. He brought one hand to her cheek, but she did not look up.

  "I love you," she said, her voice shaking. "And I need you more than you could ever know. Don't leave me."

  She squeezed her eyes shut, but the tears did not stop. She waited, hoping this one wish came true. I'm falling, Nathaniel. Please catch me.

  He bent his head and kissed away tears one by one. "I won't leave you, not ever. I love you. God only knows what kind of life we'll have."

  She opened her eyes. She looked at him and saw the promise in his eyes. "We'll have a life together," she whispered and rested her cheek against his chest. She leaned into his strength and felt his arms wrap around her. Now, when everything they'd worked for was falling apart, now, when all the plans were unraveling, now, she felt safer than she ever had in her life.

  "Mara, did you really tear up the bank draft and throw it in Adrian's face?"

  She lifted her head to find him smiling down at her with all that open tenderness. "Yes," she answered. "And Honoria Montrose saw the whole thing. Your brother shall have a great deal of explaining to do."

  He pulled her back against him and kissed her. "What a pity."

  Chapter Thirty

  The letter arrived in the post the morning after his confrontation with Mara Elliot. Adrian stared down at the note in Honoria's childishly round handwriting, unable to believe the words even as he read them. He'd thought her satisfied by his explanations of the scene she had witnessed, but obviously he had been mistaken. He read the letter again, and he knew his mistake had been a fatal one.

  Viscount Leyland, you are a man of some admirable qualities, but the scene I witnessed yesterday forces me to reconsider our engagement. I cannot, in all good conscience, marry a man who would deliberately set out to ruin his own brother, whatever his reasons. Further, I am appalled that you should use my name and influence for such dishonorable purposes.

  I have sent a statement to the social register of The Times announcing the dissolution of our engagement by mutual consent. Should you choose to contest that statement and bring a breach of promise suit against me, I am bold enough to say that it will be futile. I'm certain that you would not wish to have my investigators explore the matter of your fight with your brother too deeply.

  I am journeying to Paris forthwith. Please do not try to contact me. I feel there would be no point to a conversation between us. It would only be painful and embarrassing for us both. My regrets. Miss Honoria Montrose.

  P.S.—I have enclosed your ring.

  By the time he finished reading the letter again, Adrian's disbelief had chilled to cold rage. Of all the impudence! That fat, American cow lecturing him on honor when she'd had the gall to inform the social register of The Times. God, the news would be all over London by this afternoon.

  He crumpled the letter into a ball and tossed it across the study with a curse. What would he do now? Without the promise of Honoria's money, his creditors would be swarming around him within hours.

  He reached one hand toward the bell pull, intending to ring for tea, but changed his mind. Walking to the sideboard, he reached for one of the crystal decanters there and poured himself a whisky instead. To his disgust, he noticed his hand shook as he lifted the tumbler to his lips.

  He leaned back against the sideboard. All he could think of was the scandal, the humiliation. The sound of shattering glass startled him, and he realized he'd thrown the tumbler against the wall.

  Adrian spent the day in his study, striving to find a way out. Lovett informed the constant stream of bankers and solicitors who came calling that his master was unavailable as Adrian sat behind his desk, composing letters to influential acquaintances. He tried to grasp what had happened as he scrawled words on paper. How had all his carefully laid plans gone awry?

  It was all Nathaniel's fault.

  The realization came to him and he paused, his grip tightening around the quill pen in his hand. Of course, Nathaniel was to blame. Adrian jabbed the nib of his pen into the palm of his hand, icy rage numbing the pain.

  If it hadn't been for Nathaniel, none of this would have happened. If Nathaniel hadn't come back to England, if he hadn't dared to go into competition against him, if his impudent chit of a mistress hadn't come along and ruined everything with Honoria, Adrian knew he would not now be facing ruin and disgrace.

  It was all Nathaniel's fault.

  Adrian repeated those words to himself as he stabbed his palm with the point of the pen again and again, drawing blood, not even feeling the pain.

  ***

  Nathaniel stood beside the cart in the alley behind the warehouse. "Two hundred trains to Whiteley's and three hundred to Gamage's," he told Boggs. "And be careful. God knows what my brother might try."

  "Right-o, guv'nor." Boggs swung up o
nto the cart beside his son, Alfred. "It'll go rough on yer brother if he stands in our way." The workman pulled at his cap. "We'll be back in an 'our or two for the next load."

  Nathaniel gave him a thumbs-up gesture as the cart loaded with crates of trains lurched forward. He watched it roll down the alley and disappear around the corner. Then he walked back into the warehouse.

  He paused beside the table where Billy, Davy, and Millie Boggs, and all four of Emma Logan's children were checking train sets under Emma's watchful eye. He paused beside Emma's chair. "How's things in here?"

  "Smashin'!" Billy closed the lid on another case and set it aside.

  "Emma?"

  The woman looked up from the train set she was checking, and she smiled at him. "They're working 'ard, sir. You can trust me on that."

  "You're a good supervisor, Emma. Keep this up and I might have you out on the production floor, supervising the men as well."

  She laughed. "I don't think Mr. Lowenstein would be 'appy about that."

  "Probably not." He grinned and walked away.

  He made his way through assembly, where women put trains, pieces of track, batteries, and sheets of printed instructions into wooden cases and stamped them with the Chase-Elliot trademark. As he passed by, he paused often to give a compliment or make a suggestion, knowing there were many long hours of work ahead and that a little encouragement went a long way.

  They had until Friday to deliver those trains, and Nathaniel would feel better once the trains were out of the factory and safely in the stores, just in case Adrian tried some new scheme.