The Runaway Girl

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The Runaway Girl Page 28

by Jina Bacarr

She’d die if Mrs Benn-Brady asked her one more question about the royals and being presented at court and what jewels the queen wore. Holy Mary, what did she know about that? Or weekends at a country estate? Where was his lordship? She’d never pull off this charade without him.

  The afternoon took a different turn when Niles handed Mrs Benn-Brady a newspaper and her pince-nez. As the woman held up her spectacles and scanned the daily, Ava couldn’t help but wonder if they ironed the newspapers here in New York to set the ink as they did back in Ireland.

  ‘Ah, here it is, on page four,’ Mrs Benn-Brady said with delight, and then turned to Ava. ‘Your Captain Lord Blackthorn is quite notorious.’

  Trey leaned over her shoulder and read the story, then slapped his knee, his laughter filling the high-ceilinged room. ‘Leave it to Buck to create a scandal less than two days after the rescue ship docks.’

  ‘What gibberish did the reporter write about his lordship?’ Ava wanted to know, ready to defend him. ‘He was a hero, saving the lives of steerage women and—’

  ‘My dear Countess, such antics don’t interest the society crowd,’ Mrs Benn-Brady interrupted. She couldn’t resist the opportunity to snub anything she considered beneath her. ‘This is what everyone is talking about.’

  She showed Ava the double-page spread in the New York Herald. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. There he was, looking so handsome and fine, his lordship’s picture published alongside other notables who had sailed on the Titanic.

  Not Fiona’s, though. Thank God, no known photos of the countess existed, since she’d been a recluse for years.

  What gripped Ava more than anything was the accompanying story about his relationship with Lady Pennington.

  ‘His lordship and that Pennington woman are all the gossip,’ said the society matron with keen interest, then she continued reading the story and sipping her tea. ‘It says here she’s traveling to New York for a reunion with him.’

  Ava fumed. The shame of the man. All along he was planning to return to that woman while he was spooning with her.

  She turned her head so Mrs Benn-Brady didn’t see her eyes brimming with tears.

  Trey made the best of the situation. ‘Buck does have a way with women, isn’t that right, Countess?’

  Ava nodded, and then said with the taste of grit on her tongue, ‘He could charm a washerwoman out of her soapsuds.’

  Mrs Benn-Brady nearly choked on her tea but recovered quickly. ‘I’ve heard the British have peculiar habits, but that, my dear, is most enlightening.’ She put down her cup on the small, round table edged with gold and turned to her son. ‘We have much to do to prepare for the formal announcement of your engagement, Trey. The menu, place cards, floral displays—’

  ‘I shall leave that in your capable hands, Mother. I have other business to attend to this afternoon,’ Trey said, fidgeting with his collar. He’d come through the sinking of the ship without a scrape, but he was sweating now and no doubt anxious to escape his mother’s never-ending tirades.

  Ava wondered if he was back to his old ways and meeting a woman for a tryst.

  You can’t leave me here all alone, Ava’s eyes pleaded with him.

  He looked at her as if to say, I told you she’d try to bully you.

  Mrs Benn-Brady had her own agenda. ‘You will remain here until I finish, Trey. First, I want to make it clear we shall call the countess by her Christian name Fiona in private, but address her as your ladyship in front of guests,’ she stated, pleased with her decision. Again, she spoke as if Ava wasn’t in the room.

  ‘The countess prefers to be addressed by her middle name, Mother,’ Trey insisted, winking at Ava.

  She winked back in a moment of playfulness. She was grateful to discover he was still her ally. Or was he just trying to get her into his bed?

  ‘Oh, and what is that?’ his mother asked, her tone advising him she was not pleased with any censure of her plans.

  ‘Ava.’

  ‘Hmm… I see the Scots have more peculiar habits.’

  ‘Not as peculiar as lemon with your tea,’ Ava said under her breath.

  Watch your mouth, girl. It may seem that Mrs Benn-Brady accepts you, but the woman is as crafty as a banshee and just as powerful in her social world.

  Ava shifted her weight on the plush red silk cushion and listened to her future mother-in-law explain her plans for the dinner party. She would select the menu and not her chef, who had a penchant for including too many brown sauces. And a quartet instead of an orchestra to give the soiree an intimate feeling.

  The society lady was entertaining the idea of replacing her fine mahogany tabletop with plate glass when the butler returned with a silver platter holding a hastily scribbled note on a business card.

  Mrs Benn-Brady looked at the card and smiled. ‘Seems I won’t have to invite Captain Lord Blackthorn to tea after all.’

  ‘What do you mean, Mother?’ Trey asked, then looked at Ava. She shrugged her shoulders, just as puzzled as he was.

  ‘His lordship is here.’

  34

  The heat seething through Buck was unbearable.

  Ava looked more beautiful to him than ever, poised on the edge of the antique chair like an enchanted princess holding court in a secret garden. Her green silk voile gown spread out around her like flower petals, her red hair shimmering with diamond clips that sparkled like dewdrops.

  He’d spent the last hour walking up and down Fifth Avenue, thinking, thinking, trying to decide the best way to approach the situation. He hadn’t much time to turn her into a countess.

  And win his bet with Trey.

  He wouldn’t fail, he couldn’t. He had half a mind to tell his old friend he didn’t want the money, that it wasn’t a fair wager. From his point of view, Ava’s talents went beyond those of any ‘dollar princess’, as the newspapers termed the American heiresses seeking titled British husbands. She possessed a natural elegance that equaled her beauty. She had a quick mind and a wit, which he’d use to her advantage to impress Mrs Benn-Brady’s social climbing friends.

  An urgency to get started on his venture had driven him to arrive unannounced at the three-story residence on the famous avenue. Buck couldn’t deny he was impressed. The house was square and broad with four tall columns, decorated in a pale gray limestone and ornamented with black and white marble.

  Once inside, everywhere he looked he saw signs of a very wealthy woman. From the circular marble staircase to the lead-crystal chandeliers to the Persian rugs.

  And gold ashtrays. Not thick-plated gold on silver, he noted, feeling its heaviness in his hand, but solid gold.

  Seeing Ava in this opulent setting of satin brocade and art, surrounded by all that wealth had to offer made him even more certain she could pull off this charade. She took his breath away.

  Turning her into the countess, however, could prove to be difficult.

  Ava wouldn’t even look at him.

  She had given a loud gasp, her hand flying to her throat when the butler had introduced him. Afterward, she ignored him and sat as cold and rigid as a block of ice.

  He grimaced. She was still angry with him for insulting her in the limousine. It was her own fault. Why did she have to let Trey kiss her?

  It made no difference to Buck that he’d had every intention of taking her to his bed without the benefit of a wedding ceremony. That was different. That was before he realized how much she meant to him and then it was too late.

  Still, he found her odd silence discomforting. That was so unlike Ava. Always ready with an opinion and colorful words that made him smile. Had he been wrong about her? Had her new position as a countess already gone to her head?

  Was she as spoiled and manipulative as every other aristocratic female he’d met?

  He wouldn’t believe that. How blissful those four days on the Titanic with her had been. Wrapped up in each other’s arms in an isolated world of satin and the tango, her unpredictable behavior amusing him, her beauty bewitching
him.

  His mouth tightened. Now her coldness toward him angered him.

  That anger didn’t go unnoticed by his hostess.

  ‘I imagine you found it quite upsetting as a British subject to be called upon to testify at the U.S. Senate hearings,’ said Mrs Benn-Brady, baiting him. She referred to the Titanic inquiry underway at the Waldorf-Astoria, with survivors giving testimony to a Senate subcommittee.

  ‘I consider it my duty to testify, Mrs Benn-Brady,’ Buck said, glancing at Ava. Did he see her soften toward him? ‘I am most grateful to be alive. I’ll do whatever I can to be of assistance in having maritime laws changed so this terrible tragedy never happens again.’

  ‘Bravo, your lordship,’ Mrs Benn-Brady shot back. ‘I told Trey he must also do his duty, but I insisted to Senator Smith the countess not be called.’

  Buck saw Ava let out a sigh of relief.

  ‘The poor girl has been through enough already,’ she continued. ‘Besides, it’s unseemly for a lady of her stature to speak about such things in front of a room of gawking politicians.’

  Trey snickered and Buck couldn’t resist a smile. He noticed Ava’s expression didn’t change. She looked as forlorn as ever.

  ‘It does my heart good to know you told them what happened on that terrible night, your lordship,’ Ava said, giving him a grateful look as she spoke. She struggled to say the words correctly. ‘Especially for the passengers who can’t be here to speak for themselves.’

  Buck let out his breath. He could see the countess’s death still weighed heavily upon her.

  ‘Those who died will never be forgotten, Countess,’ he said with fervor, looking at her saddened features.

  She nodded.

  ‘How long will you be staying in New York before you return to London, your lordship?’ asked Mrs Benn-Brady, changing the subject. And the mood. He could see her scrutinizing him. She didn’t trust him – and she was right. He’d win Ava back if he could.

  But his hands were tied. Irene had seen to that with her capricious whim to fly to his side on the first ship sailing from Southampton.

  ‘Long enough to complete my business here,’ Buck said, leaning forward in his chair so he could look at Ava. He had so much more to say to her, but she wasn’t ready to listen. She turned away from him. ‘And to see my old friend married.’

  Mrs Benn-Brady sipped her tea and munched on iced cakes. ‘Get on with you, Trey,’ she said, shooing him away. I want to hear all about his lordship’s thrilling escapade on the overturned lifeboat.’

  Buck looked at her, amused. She was as excited as a housemaid listening at the keyhole for gossip.

  Trey winked at him, then left the trio to their tea.

  ‘Yes. Don’t keep us waiting, your lordship,’ Ava said, challenging him with an edge in her voice that caught him off guard.

  This was the Ava he knew. He beamed.

  ‘You haven’t told me what happened after you left… us… at the lifeboat,’ she finished.

  She means the countess, he thought.

  Mrs Benn-Brady didn’t blink an eye. She assumed Ava meant her son.

  Buck could not let Ava despair. He noticed she was still shivering. Whether it was from the slight chill in the room or nerves he couldn’t be sure. He wanted to hold her in his arms, feel her softness pressed against him, tell her he’d lost his heart to her. Yes, she hurt from losing Fiona, he wanted to tell her, but so did he. They would both heal with time.

  Instead, he told his story.

  ‘My pocket watch stopped at 2.20 a.m. when I jumped into the sea,’ Buck began, snapping open his watch. The hands were still frozen, as if the winds of time refused to let go of that moment. ‘The water was below freezing…’

  For next several minutes, he recounted his amazing tale of survival, from the last moments on the Titanic as she went down, to grabbing onto the rope of the upside-down lifeboat and pulling himself aboard. He left out the details of saving the two Irish girls. He’d never be able to explain to the satisfaction of Mrs Benn-Brady why he’d risked his life to save steerage passengers.

  ‘The captain of the Carpathia did a fine job rescuing the passengers fortunate enough to find a place in a lifeboat, Mrs Benn-Brady,’ Buck finished, never taking his eyes off Ava, ‘when so many lives were lost.’

  ‘Most remarkable, your lordship.’ The matron turned to Ava to ask her a question when Niles, her butler, a stalwart man with gray hair and hooded eyes, whispered something in her ear.

  ‘A telephone call now?’ she asked him. He nodded. ‘Damn contraption is always interrupting me. I don’t know why I let Trey talk me into having one installed. I never receive calls at this hour.’

  ‘You are most fortunate to have a telephone, Mrs Benn-Brady,’ Buck said in a convincing voice. ‘If the Titanic wasn’t equipped with a wireless room, we wouldn’t be here now.’

  A somber mood fell upon the room. The two survivors looked at each other. Buck knew what Ava was thinking.

  There’s one missing.

  He answered her with his eyes. We owe it to the countess to make this plan work.

  Mrs Benn-Brady, who had no idea what was going on, focused on her own agenda.

  ‘Excellent point, your lordship. I shall relate that to the chairman of the Women’s Relief Committee. It will make an interesting piece of conversation at our next meeting.’ She grinned, eager to take credit for the idea. ‘I’ll take the call, Niles.’ Then, with a curious backward glance at each of them, she left the drawing room.

  Buck couldn’t wait to talk to Ava alone, to tell her about his plans to win over Mrs Benn-Brady.

  She had other ideas.

  ‘I can’t go through with this mad scheme, Buck. I can’t!’

  Ava dropped her shoulders and set her teacup down with a bang.

  ‘Is this the girl who outran the constable to get aboard the Titanic so she could come to America?’ Buck said, his tone angry. ‘Who wouldn’t give up even when they locked her up in steerage?’

  ‘You don’t understand, Buck. Trey’s mother keeps asking me questions about my needlepoint skills and what tunes I can play on the piano. I can’t play the bloomin’ piano,’ she said, frustrated. ‘All day she follows me around, watching me. How I walk, sit. Hold my teacup. Every time I open my mouth—’

  ‘And a beautiful one it is,’ Buck said.

  ‘Listen to your blarney, will you? Trying to sweet talk me into going through with your plan. It won’t work. I know all about you and this Lady Pennington.’ She paused, waiting for him to deny it. He didn’t. ‘That’s why you made this ridiculous bet. To get rid of me so you could run off with that – that woman.’

  ‘Irene has nothing to do with it, Ava,’ Buck insisted. She didn’t believe him. ‘You’ll never have a chance to make something of yourself with me. As Mrs Treyton Brady, you will.’

  ‘I don’t care. You lied to me and I’ll not forgive you for that.’

  ‘It’s true Irene and I had an affair in London,’ Buck admitted. ‘That’s over. I didn’t ask her to come to New York.’

  ‘And I didn’t ask to take the countess’s place,’ Ava said, wringing her hands on the delicate silk. ‘It’s wrong, Buck, all wrong. I can’t go through with it. I’m packing my things and out I go on the street where I’ll take my chances. Goodbye.’

  She fled down the hall and raced up the winding staircase to her bedroom before he could stop her.

  Instead he was forced to cover up this unhappy episode on his own.

  ‘Is the countess ill?’ Mrs Benn-Brady asked Buck when she returned and found Ava gone, her tone suspicious.

  ‘She’s been through a traumatic experience, Mrs Benn-Brady,’ he said, wondering how he was going to get Ava back. The last thing he needed was this woman grilling him. ‘She’s seen people go to their death. It’s not easy on her.’

  The woman nodded. ‘That explains her strangeness, though at times I swear she’s not the same girl Trey wrote me about in his letters.’


  Buck narrowed his eyes. ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘I can forgive her traveling alone without a chaperone, but when she arrived without a lady’s maid,’ she huffed and puffed, ‘well, that is not done.’

  ‘Her maid sprained her ankle and left the ship at Queenstown,’ Buck said easily. That much was true.

  ‘Oh?’ she asked. ‘Trey wired me her maid was intending to leave her employ after the ship docked.’

  Buck attempted a smile. ‘A simple mistake, madam. The girl who served as her lady’s maid on board the Titanic was a stewardess.’ He lowered his eyes and a sharp pain pierced his ribs for the lie he was about to tell. ‘She didn’t survive.’

  ‘I see,’ she mumbled, popping another iced cake into her mouth and eating it slowly, very slowly, while waiting for him for continue.

  Did she suspect anything? How could she?

  Buck bided his time. The woman was no fool. She’d see through Ava’s charade if he didn’t work fast. He had much to accomplish in two weeks.

  ‘The countess spent only a season in London,’ he said, ‘but her lineage goes back a thousand years.’

  ‘So the detectives I hired informed me.’ She finished her cake, then wiped her fingers with care. ‘Trey mentioned her reluctance to come to New York and gave me the indication the countess was a shy, reclusive young woman,’ she said, her curiosity taking her voice up an octave. ‘This girl reminds me of a wild creature challenging everything she sees. And that dyed red hair. Disgraceful.’

  ‘I assure you, Mrs Benn-Brady,’ Buck said with the confidence of a gentleman who remembered with delight burying his face in that red hair and smelling its fresh scent, ‘it’s her natural color.’

  She eyed him sharply, and then picked up her fan and toyed with it. ‘Trey said you’ve known the countess since she was a child.’

  ‘Yes. Since she was in pigtails,’ Buck answered in a firm tone that allowed no argument.

  She fanned herself with the gray plumes. ‘You are most polite in answering my questions about the countess, Captain Lord Blackthorn, but I know what you’re thinking. That I have no claim to act like an imperial autocrat.’

 

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