After Innocence

by Brenda Joyce

  Edward and Slade laughed. Edward had taken Nick for a drive in his Daimler the day he had arrived—and he had demanded another drive every day since. “Not today, Nick,” Slade said, rubbing his hands. His breath made vapor in the air.

  “Go car!” Nick cried.

  “Your uncle Edward is getting married,” Slade said, then grinned wickedly at Edward. “What’s wrong, Ed?”

  “You know I could not eat breakfast this morning,” Edward growled, in no mood to be teased now, just minutes before actually getting married.

  “Got a case of nerves?” Slade laughed.

  “You are shameless, leasing him on his wedding day,” his wife, Regina, chastised, coming up behind the brothers and linking her arm with Slade’s. But she was smiling, a lovely golden-haired woman who was quite clearly pregnant with their second child beneath her fur-lined cloak.

  “Thank you,” Edward said stiffly. “Of course I am nervous. I never thought I’d actually do this!”

  Slade sobered. “You’re marrying a wonderful woman, Ed.”

  Edward gave him a look of utter exasperation. “I am not afraid of marriage—not to Sofie. Not anymore. But I really would have preferred eloping!”

  Slade and Regina chuckled. Slade said dryly, “You won’t think that way when you see your pretty bride come floating up the aisle with her eyes all shiny with love for you.”

  “Is that how I looked?” Regina asked, pressing close.

  Slade bent his head, kissed her small nose. “Actually, you were terrified.”

  Regina smiled. “I had better get back to the bride. Nick, Mama’s going back inside.”

  But Nick was too busy watching the cars to pay his mama attention, and Regina slipped away after squeezing Edward’s arm.

  Edward turned away from her, his heart was racing far too fast, and although it was not hot out, he was sweating. He could imagine Sofie just as Slade had described, and he was so excited—and nervous—he could not quite stand it.

  Then he stiffened. “Christ!”

  Slade came to attention, followed his gaze. “Who is it? A reporter?”

  Edward stared at the tall, tanned, golden-eyed man strolling casually past both Rick and Benjamin—with utterly cool nerve. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered. Then, “I’m not going to let him get away with it!”

  And Edward rushed into the church after Jake O’Neil.

  Sofie went to the door of her dressing room and pressed her ear against it, listening to the organ music. It was New Year’s Day, nineteen hundred and three—her wedding day—and her heart beat wildly.

  Edward’s family had arrived three days ago, just in time for all of the wedding festivities. Since they had begun planning their wedding, Sofie had learned that her groom had been born and raised on a California ranch which had belonged to his family for two generations. She had been thrilled to finally meet his family, and had been warmly welcomed into their midst. Everyone had come—his father. Rick, his mother, Victoria, his brother Slade and Slade’s wife, Regina—everyone except for his oldest brother, James, whose whereabouts were not known. James had been wandering the world for several years now.

  It had been a wonderful reunion for Edward and his family; Sofie had seen that at once. The two brothers were clearly very close, and father and son obviously cared deeply for each other. Sofie knew a little bit about Edward’s relationship with his mother before his family had arrived. His parents were separated and lived apart, and Sofie knew that Edward had not spoken to his mother in three years. Somehow he seemed to blame her for the separation. Sofie was very glad that he had ended that nonsense once and for all. She had seen at once that Victoria missed Edward desperately, that she loved him as only a mother can love her son. She had sobbed when Edward had walked into her arms.

  Sofie’s wedding was almost perfect. Almost.

  For Lisa was not there. Lisa was still hiding in Newport Beach. She had telephoned Sofie once to reassure her of her welfare and to learn what was happening with the marquis. Sofie had told Lisa that with every passing day, St. Clare grew more determined to find her and wed her. Sofie had tried to convince Lisa to come home and face him and cry off herself, but Lisa refused. She was certain his pride would finally take the beating she intended it to take, that he would ultimately turn tail and run home to his run-down ancestral estates. Sofie had seen him periodically, and she doubted it. He was more furious than ever as time crept by without his locating his errant bride. More furious and more determined.

  Sofie had persuaded Lisa to pen a short note to her father to relieve his tremendous anxiety, and that note had arrived two weeks ago. Benjamin had gone from being severely distraught to furious, and had put his detectives on the new clue to his daughter’s whereabouts immediately. Sofie had a bad feeling that Lisa’s days of freedom were numbered.

  Sofie knew she should not think about Lisa now. Today was a day for joyous thoughts. She had asked Rachelle, Regina, and Victoria to give her and her mother a moment alone, and now she cracked open the door to call them back. It was then that she realized that the music had stopped, and her own heart seemed to stop as well.

  “Well, being as the music has stopped, I can only assume that all the guests have arrived and been seated,” Suzanne said. “Come, Sofie. we must put on your veil. It is only a matter of minutes until you walk down the aisle.”

  Sofie began to tremble, assailed with real bridal nerves. In her mind’s eye she saw Edward standing at the end of the aisle in his black tuxedo, waiting for her—and then she saw herself gliding towards him in a cloud of white. Excitement, joy, and love washed over her with stunning force, making her feel faint. But now was not the time to succumb to nerves. In a few more minutes the ceremony would begin—and she would finally become Edward Delanza’s wife. It seemed that she had waited a lifetime for this moment, for this stunning gift of fate.

  “What in hell do you think you’re doing?” Edward demanded.

  Jake froze. He had just taken his seal in the rear pew and they were alone, the rest of the wedding guests taking up the six front rows. “You know why I’m here. Now, get lost. Delanza.”

  Edward reached out and gripped Jake’s suit by its narrow lapels. “No! The time for games is over!”

  Jake paled.

  Edward leaned close, furious. “I’m going to drag you in to meet her, Jake, whether you want to or not. If you want to fight and make a scene, hey, that’s fine with me. I’m not the one who’s going to be sent back to prison if I’m recognized.”

  Jake slowly got to his feet. “You bastard.”

  “Sofie needs to know that you’re alive.”

  “Edward—you can’t imagine what prison is like. I can’t go back there.”

  “And you won’t. Not if you come with me willingly.”

  “Why are you doing this!?” Jake cried.

  “Because I can’t stand to see you suffering needlessly like this—you fool.” Edward looped his arm in his. “Because Sofie loves you—because I love her.”

  The two men’s gazes met. And finally, finally, Jake nodded.

  “Oh, Sofie,” Regina cried. “You are stunning—I can’t wait for Edward to see you like this.”

  Sofie smiled at her sister-in-law, a woman Sofie had liked and respected enormously the moment they had met. Regina was not just utterly lovely and elegant and ladylike, but warm and kind and generous. “Thank you,” she whispered, her heart pounding at a dangerous rate. “But I fear I may never make it down the aisle—I feel quite faint.”

  “Come, sit down,” Victoria said, helping Sofie sit without wrinkling her full skirts. Rachelle brought her a cup of water, Suzanne gripped her shoulder, and Regina cheerfully slipped smelling salts out of her reticule. “Just in case,” she said, smiling.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “That must be Benjamin,” Suzanne said tensely, looking very pale now and on the verge of tears all over again. “Sofie, do you want a whiff of the salts?”

  Sofie shook her
head no while Regina ran to the door. They both glimpsed Edward standing there with another man at the same instant. Regina immediately tried to slam the door closed on Edward. “You can’t see the bride now!” she cried, panicked.

  Sofie was standing. “Edward!?” Her initial reaction of gladness at seeing him changed to fear. And she saw the man standing beside him—and it was the golden-eyed stranger she had remarked at her exhibition and at Lisa’s engagement party.

  “This is important,” Edward said, stepping past Regina and into the room. Sofie saw that he held the other man tightly by the arm. Very white, Regina closed the door behind them—and Sofie heard Suzanne cry out.

  Sofie turned as her mother crumpled into the chair she had just vacated, tears pouring down her cheeks. “No, no,” she moaned.

  Stunned, she felt a sudden, dark inkling stab her, one too incredible for Sofie to truly comprehend. She glanced at Edward and the stranger, then sank down beside her mother. “Mother? What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Oh. God,” Suzanne moaned, covering her face with her hands and weeping.

  Slowly Sofie turned. Edward stood before her and he gripped her hands tightly. “Sofie, darling, you’re going to be shocked.”

  Sofie glanced numbly past Edward, whom she trusted with her very life, and at the stranger—who stared at her with heart breakingly familiar eyes.

  “Your father, Jake, is not dead,” Edward said. “He never died in that fire. His partner died—he escaped. And he’s been hiding from the law ever since.” Edward’s eyes held hers, intense and urgent, but his tone was soothing and calm.

  Sofie jerked her hands free, staring at the golden-eyed man who had always appeared so familiar to her. “No!” she cried, too shocked to think. “My father is dead!”

  The man stepped forward, into the center of the room. He was haggard, pale, his eyes glistening. “Sofie, darling, forgive me,” he whispered.

  And Sofie froze. Because Jake had a distinct voice, a tone she would never forget, one both as rough as sandpaper and as smooth as silk. Their eyes locked. Recognition leapt from deep in her soul, and Sofie gave a small and glad cry.

  Jake went rigid as Sofie rushed into his arms.

  “Father!” she gasped, hugging him, her cheek pressed against his chest. And as she embraced him, his arms went around her and he leaned over her and crushed her to him, tears pouring down his face.

  “Daughter,” he whispered. “Oh, God, I never thought I’d see this day.”

  And behind them. Suzanne had stopped crying, watching fearfully, while Edward smiled, his heart expanding impossibly with joy. The tip of his nose had turned red.

  A mad discussion ensued. Sofie wanted details, wanted to know how her father had escaped death and how he had eluded capture by the British authorities these past fifteen years, how long he had been in New York and what his plans were now. She also wanted him to participate in her wedding. Suzanne was speechless, but Victoria, Regina, Rachelle, and Edward immediately voted down that last idea.

  “Darling,” Edward said to Sofie, “we cannot risk his being recognized even if close to fifteen years has gone by since he fled the country.”

  Sofie held Jake’s hand, squeezed it once, saw that he was in complete agreement with Edward just as she sensed how much he wished he could lead her down the aisle. She nodded slowly, unfortunately just beginning to understand what Jake’s presence really meant—and what it might portend. She turned to Edward, wringing her hands. “After the ceremony—Edward—please. Can we delay our honeymoon for a few days?”

  He slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Of course we can.”

  Suddenly Sofie’s eyes filled with tears. “This is the greatest gift I could ever be given, Edward. To return my father to me—alive. Thank you.”

  Edward took her shoulders, pulled her close, and kissed her on the mouth.

  A brisk rapping sounded on the door and Slade slipped into the room. “Edward! You’d better get down the aisle, fast, before Reverend Harper comes in here looking for you and sees this little circus and starts asking questions. I’ve held up Ralston the best I can, but he’s getting impatient and he’s going to be heading this way himself in another minute, if I don’t miss my guess!”

  The brothers’ gazes held and Edward nodded. “One more minute,” he said. Slade nodded and slipped out of the room. Edward looked at Sofie, smiled briefly, then glanced at Suzanne. “Are you all right?”

  Suzanne nodded, but she was shaking.

  Sofie realized then that Suzanne was seeing Jake for the very first time too. “Mother,” she whispered. But then she saw the way that Suzanne stared at Jake, and she wondered if it was their first reunion in fifteen years. But it had to be. The idea that Suzanne had known of Jake’s existence for all these years was just too horrible to contemplate.

  And Suzanne met her gaze, but only barely. “I’m fine.” She lifted her chin, refused to look at Jake. Did not say a single word to him. “Perhaps he had better leave.”

  Sofie was unmoving, her heart lurching. It occurred to her that many problems lay ahead for her family now, with Jake’s sudden reappearance in their lives, but come what may, his being alive and with them was more important than any dilemma they might have to face. Sofie resolved to stand by both Jake and Suzanne, no matter the differences that might arise between them, no matter what scandal might occur.

  Jake hugged Sofie again. “This is the greatest day of my life,” he told her quietly, “not just to be at your wedding, but to have held you in my arms, to have talked to you as a father does to a daughter. I love you, Sofie. You’re the force that’s kept me alive these many years when another man might have given up.”

  Sofie embraced him, too. “I love you too, Father. I always have. I’ve missed you terribly. We will speak tomorrow at leisure. I am so excited—thinking of all the time we can spend together now.”

  Jake flashed a grin. “After all these years, I can wait a half day for our reunion.” Giving her another kiss, he shook Edward’s hand with real respect. “I owe you thanks, Edward.”

  “They’re accepted,” Edward said. Then, softly, “Welcome home, Jake.”

  And humor sparked in Jake’s amber eyes. “Welcome to the O’Neil family, Edward,” he said, and then he strode from the room.

  “My turn to go, before Harper or your stepfather comes searching for you,” Edward said. Then his eyes lit up with admiration. “God, Sofie, you are beautiful.”

  Sofie beamed, her eyes still wet with tears. “I thought you’d never notice.”

  Sofie listened to the organs rendering Wagner’s classic and stately bridal march. Benjamin smiled at her, extending his arm. Sofie took it, tears misting her vision.

  Benjamin guided her down the lily-strewn, red-carpeted aisle. Sofie smiled through her tears, and Edward turned to face her from where he stood beside the reverend, as resplendent as she’d always imagined him being on this day. Beside him stood his brother and father, and on the other side of the altar stood Suzanne, Rachelle, his mother, and his sister-in-law. Her glance found Jake, sitting halfway down the church, smiling at her. Sofie looked at Edward again, her heart bursting with joy. As she floated towards him in her cloud of white lace and chiffon, their gazes met and held. Unquestionably this was the finest moment of her life. Fate had blessed her with the greatest gift of all—the gift of love.

  Part Four

  After Innocence

  Epilogue

  New York City, 1993

  Her strides were long and brisk as she hurried down Park Avenue, weaving through the throng of noonday pedestrians. She was six feet tall in her two-inch platforms and she wore sleek black leather jeans, a classic white shirt with a black cardigan draped over her shoulders, and a big Donna Karan belt with a triple tier of gold chains. Her hair was thick, black, and cut very short. Everyone she passed, man and woman alike, did a double take, wondering who she was. She was extraordinarily beautiful, and it was said that she took after her grandfather.


  Mara Delanza passed under the cream-colored canopy of Delmonico’s and paused to allow the doorman of Christie’s to open the door and stand back as she entered. Her heart was beating from more than the exertion engendered by her rapid walk downtown. By her careful estimation, Lot number 1502 would come up around twelve forty-five. But if the bidding on the prior lots was very swift, it could come up as early as noon. It was eleven forty-five now.

  Mara ignored the several discreetly garbed gentlemen who were security guards and hurried into the auctioning room. Most of the seats were taken. Her heart rate accelerated when she realized that After Innocence was to come up for auction next.

  Mara slid into an aisle seat in the back row, tall enough that she had no trouble seeing the Vlaminck now being auctioned. The bidding was already up to a hundred thousand dollars. Her mouth had become cotton-dry. She opened her catalog and quickly found the entry for her grandmother’s work—the one she had talked about so much—the one she had regretted ever selling.

  Lot if 1502. After Innocence, by Sofie O’Neil. 1902-1903, oil on canvas. Provenance—Anonymous. Estimated purchase price. $500,000.

  Mara shut her book, wishing her grandparents were still alive. How pleased they would be that After innocence was finally reappearing in the public eye after disappearing for ninety-one years. But they had both died in 1972 within six months of each other, welt into their nineties but spry and mentally alert and still enamored of each other. Mara had often heard her grandmother lament the fact that After Innocence had been sold immediately after her first exhibition in New York City in 1902. The work had been bought by a Russian aristocrat and had been taken out of the country to hang in seclusion with the rest of his extensive collection in one of his palaces near St. Petersburg. That palace had been destroyed in the First World War, or during the revolutions, and everyone had thought the work to have been destroyed as well.