by Joanna Shupe
Davies exhaled and then wrapped his arms around Ming Zhu, pulling her tight to his chest. He bent his head to say something in her ear, something that had her wiping tears from her cheeks. Calvin experienced a pang of emotion, a longing he barely recognized, somewhere deep inside. Davies had risked everything to have this woman, a mountain of insurmountable odds standing between them and their happiness. Not everyone would have been so brave.
Davies gripped Ming Zhu’s face and pressed his forehead to hers. Calvin deliberately turned away, giving the pair privacy. He rubbed the ache behind his sternum and then caught Hugo’s eye. His friend stared knowingly at Calvin’s hand, sympathy in the lines of his face. Clenching his jaw, Calvin stared hard at the wall, building up his resolve for what he must do.
“Davies, let’s finish this. Come,” he said, indicating the table.
Instead of sitting, Davies let go of Ming Zhu and walked over to face Calvin. “Why are you helping us?” He folded his arms across his chest. “Why did my sister seek you out?”
“Because she knows I lived in Hong Kong for many years.”
“And?”
Calvin dragged in a deep breath. “And because we used to be married.”
He never saw the punch coming. One minute he was facing Davies and the next Calvin’s head snapped back with the force of Davies’s fist connecting with his cheekbone. Calvin staggered a few steps, trying to keep his feet. Pain exploded throughout his skull, a haze obliterating his vision for a moment. When he could focus he saw Davies shaking out his hand, wincing.
Hugo came alongside, his hands gripping Calvin’s shoulders to steady him. “All right?”
“I’m fine.” Calvin straightened and Hugo released him. “It’s no less than I deserved.”
“What do you mean, used to be married to her?” Davies snarled. “What happened?”
“We eloped four years ago. Your father found out and put a stop to it. Forced an annulment.”
“My father knew?” Davies wrapped his hands around the back of a chair, leaned on it for support. “Why didn’t anyone ever tell me?” “No one knew, Davies. Everyone agreed to keep the marriage and annulment a secret. Unfortunately, Lee found out and tried to blackmail us. To prevent that, I’ve decided to print the story in the Mercury tomorrow.”
“Where is Lily now? Does she know?”
“She knows I’m printing the story, that’s all. She’s in the main house right now, probably dressing for dinner. A dinner you’re going to attend, I might add. She’s been worried sick over you.”
Davies paused, his gaze searching Calvin’s face for a long moment. The scrutiny made Calvin uncomfortable, but he did not push. Davies needed to agree to Calvin’s plan.
“I’ll be damned,” Davies finally said.
“Whatever you’re thinking, forget it.”
“No, I think I’m beginning to understand. Quite a number of things, actually. You love her.”
Calvin scoffed, shaking his head. “Don’t be ridiculous—”
“No, you do. Why the hell did you walk away from her? Why did you let my father come between you?”
“Because I had no choice,” Calvin said. “Just as you have no choice now but to let me help you. The first step is going to be lying to your sister.”
* * *
Lily sat on her bed changing into her ankle boots. She’d spent the entire afternoon searching every nook and cranny of Barrineau. One of the benefits of practically being raised in this house was that she knew all the hiding places, including rooms not frequented by the staff. Her brother hadn’t been in any of them, however. It was just as Langley had said: Her brother was not here.
At least not inside. In a few moments she would venture outside to begin searching, despite the dying light. She’d only returned to her room to change her shoes. If Tom were somewhere on the grounds, she wanted to find him before night fell.
What had Calvin been doing all day? Likely sleeping off all that whiskey he’d consumed on the train. She hadn’t bothered to inform him of her explorations. The less time the two of them spent together, the better.
Did he plan to attend dinner? The mere idea of sitting across from him at the dining table, those bright blue eyes fixated on her. Assessing her . . . All the other places I’d like to taste just one . . . more . . . time. A shiver went through her. Perhaps she should eat in her room.
A knock interrupted her thoughts. No doubt a staff member with a question for her. “Come in,” she called, not bothering to get off the bed. The door opened and a blond man strode inside. Lily gasped. “Tom!” Flying off the bed, she ran toward him. He caught her, his arms wrapping around her to hold her tight.
Tears threatened, the relief was so profound. “Is it really you?” she asked against his silk patterned vest.
She felt him kiss the top of her head. “Of course it’s really me. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I’ve been scared to death for you. Where have you been?”
He drew back, holding her at arm’s length. “I’ve been traveling, exactly as I said. Sailed up to Boston for a few days. When I heard you were here, I decided to come down. Arrived not thirty minutes ago.”
“You didn’t tell me you were going to Boston. You said you were going to South Dakota. To the mine.”
“I did?” His brows lowered and he dropped his hands, releasing her. “I thought I told you my plans. There were some friends I needed to see. I planned to visit the mine next month.”
Had she misunderstood? Lily didn’t think so. Regardless, she was thrilled to have him returned safe. “So you didn’t run off with Wah Lee’s daughter?”
He blinked, his head cocking to the side. “Wah Lee’s daughter? Who is Wah Lee?”
The knot of fear and uncertainty that had lived in her abdomen for the past few weeks began to unwind. He hadn’t run off with Lee’s daughter. He wasn’t in danger. The joy was so acute, her knees nearly buckled. “Never mind. Someone was obviously mistaken. I am happy to see you. I’ve been quite worried.”
“I can see that,” he said with a fond smile. “But I’m here now, so you may cease your fretting.”
“Fretting over you is what I spend most of my energies on, when I’m not overseeing the mining business. It’s not easy having a bon vivant for a brother, you know.”
He grinned, appearing more like the devil-may-care nineteen-year-old she well recognized. “I quite enjoy being a bon vivant.”
“I know, which is why I’ve been earning gray hairs over the past few years. But I’ve done my time with Daddy’s company. I want you to take it off my hands. You’re old enough, Tom.”
“But you’re so dratted good at it, Lils. I don’t have a head for figures and negotiations like you do. You and Father were like two stubborn peas in a pod.”
“I am supposed to get married and start raising a family. I cannot do that when I’m stuck in meetings with unions and the board of directors. I want a life, too.”
“Then let Uncle Edward or one of the other vice presidents take over the mine. Or we’ll sell it. It doesn’t matter to me.”
It mattered to Lily. She had adored her father and didn’t want to see everything he’d struggled for turned over to strangers. “Daddy would not want us to do either of those things. He wanted the company to stay in our family. Don’t you care about all of his hard work? His blood and sweat that went into that mine? He almost died twice out there.”
Tom waved his hand, unconcerned as ever. “I don’t believe any of those near-death stories. As it was, I’m surprised influenza was able to take the old bastard down in the end. The man was an ox.”
“Tom, you’re speaking of our father. Shouldn’t you try to be a smidgen more respectful?”
“You were his favorite, Lily, not me. Regardless, you need to calm down. I told you I’d try to start helping with the business and I will. I promised I’d visit the mine next month. Isn’t that enough?”
“I thought you promised to visit Dakota this month.”
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“No, I’m certain I said next month. Anyway, I hear from Langley that Calvin Cabot is staying here. Care to tell me why?”
Lily’s stomach sank. Well, her brother would find out in the newspaper tomorrow anyway. She might as well break the news as gently as possible. “Perhaps we should sit down.”
“I don’t need to sit. What I need to know is what’s between you and one of New York’s most notorious men.”
“Nothing . . . now.”
“Meaning there was something in the past? Lily, if he mistreated you—”
She held up her hand. “We were married. Four years ago.”
Tom’s jaw dropped open. “Married! And you didn’t tell me?”
“It’s a long story and I’d rather not rehash the whole thing. Just know that Daddy made us both sign annulment papers.”
“It was that easy, was it?”
She made a noise in her throat, one that was part laugh, part moan. “Nothing about it was easy, Tommy. He broke my heart. Recently I learned that Daddy threatened to take away my money, so Calvin decided to walk away rather than subject me to a life of poverty. But at the time I had no idea what happened.”
“Father never would have done something so cruel.”
“I’m aware, but Calvin had no way of knowing that.” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “Anyway, it was for the best. We would have been miserable together. That’s what happens when two people who barely know each other get married, right?”
“Sometimes.” Tom closed the distance between them. He placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her into a fierce hug. “But other times, when we leap without allowing our brains to get in the way, one finds something truly special.”
She swallowed, her throat inexplicably tight. “Well, not in this case, certainly. It took him about a fortnight after the annulment before he started chasing other women. If that doesn’t tell you what kind of man he is, I don’t know what will.”
Her brother released her and started for the door. Before he turned the knob, he paused. “When a man can’t have what he wants, he often tries to convince himself he doesn’t need it. But the heart cannot be denied. The heart always wins.”
Lily had no response for that. When had her brother grown so sagacious? And was he right?
Tom opened the door and looked over his shoulder. “See you at dinner.”
* * *
Dressed in evening clothes, Calvin strode into the ridiculously formal drawing room, expecting to find Lily. Instead, he found her brother pouring a glass of wine.
Davies set the crystal decanter on the sideboard, then raised his head. The circles under his brown eyes had grown considerably darker since Calvin had seen him last, likely a result of saying good-bye to Ming Zhu. The next few weeks would not be easy ones for Davies, but Calvin couldn’t help that. He finally had leverage against Lee and he planned to use it . . . no matter whose feelings were hurt in the process.
“Evening, Cabot. Wine?”
“Preferably something stronger, if you have it.” Davies’s brows rose, so Calvin pointed to his cheekbone. “Had a bit of a mishap earlier. Hurts like the dickens.”
Smirking, Davies reached for another decanter, one with an amber liquid Calvin fervently hoped was whiskey. Davies splashed a healthy amount in a crystal tumbler and brought it over to Calvin.
“You should be more careful,” Davies said, eyes dancing, as Calvin accepted the glass. “Appears as if you’ll have a hell of a bruise.”
Calvin pitched his voice low. “And if you didn’t look so pleased with yourself, I’d almost buy your concern.”
Davies chuckled and sauntered toward an armchair. “You’re lucky I didn’t find you four years ago. Would’ve been more than just your cheek.”
“You mean when you were twelve?” Calvin snorted. “Yes, a dashed good thing we did not run into one another.”
“Very funny. I would’ve been fifteen, in fact. How’d you meet her anyway?”
“At a social event. I was a reporter for the Bugle at the time. You know how the papers love to cover the society parties.”
“Were you after her money?”
Years ago the question would have enraged Calvin. But he could understand why Davies would ask, why it might appear as though Calvin had orchestrated the entire thing for financial gain. He took a sip of the whiskey, let the spirits roll off the back of his tongue and into his throat, then answered truthfully. “No. I had no idea who she was when we met. All I knew was that I couldn’t stop staring at her. She had this way of owning a room back then.... Anyway, I was young and stupid in those days. Full of hubris and ambition. Probably liquor as well.”
“My father must have hated you.”
Calvin laughed, a genuine smile splitting his face. “Indeed he did. Cursed at me, called me about every name you can think of. Lily says he was testing me.” He threw back another mouthful of whiskey. “Suppose I failed.”
“He was a manipulative bastard, my father. I’m not surprised you misunderstood his motives. Most people did. But he loved Lily. He never would have let her starve.”
“She told you.” Calvin’s stomach clenched. As if Calvin weren’t humiliated enough by the entire debacle, now he’d be forced to suffer Davies’s input. What other secrets had Lily spilled to her brother?
“Yes, she did.” Davies drank his wine, then cradled the glass in a palm. “And I have to say I’m surprised. You seem like a scrapper. The type to take on the world, suffer a little hardship in the name of the greater good.”
Indeed, Davies had just described Calvin’s childhood. Yes, he was well acquainted with hardship and scraping to get by—but Lily, on the other hand, was not. “Perhaps, but your sister did not deserve that type of life. Not after being raised like”—he swept his hand around the room—“this.”
Davies slid his hand over his jaw, rubbing. “Are you sure there wasn’t something else? A deep, dark secret perhaps?”
“Oh, he has plenty of those,” Lily said as she entered the room. Calvin and Davies both rose, and she went to her brother’s side, kissing his cheek. “The number of Calvin’s secrets could fill Central Park, I think.”
In an elegant green silk evening gown, her blond hair piled atop her head, Lily had never appeared more lovely—or more in her element. Grand home, elegant clothing, expensive jewels . . . a wealth so ingrained she likely didn’t even notice it any longer. Underneath, however, she was soft and sweet, with plush curves a man could spend days exploring. Calvin knew because he’d spent days exploring them.
He downed the rest of his whiskey. “I’m a newspaperman. My business is comprised of secrets and truths.”
“A convenient way to justify them,” Lily said on her way to the sideboard. “Calvin, would you care for another drink?”
Calvin assented and she soon appeared with a fresh whiskey. When he accepted the crystal from her hand, their fingers brushed, and the simple touch sent a wave of intense, hot longing all the way down his spine. Lily’s cheeks flushed, the pulse fluttering at her throat. How could he sleep tonight—alone—under the same roof, having seen that look on her face?
She licked her lips and walked away, breaking the moment, and Calvin exhaled heavily. This was going to be a long damn evening.
“What happened to your face?” she asked from the sideboard.
“I stumbled into a hard . . . thing earlier.” He lifted the tumbler but paused just before his mouth touched the rim. “You didn’t poison this, did you?”
“No, but the night is still young.”
Chapter Eleven
Dinner was excruciating. Lily repeatedly tried to steer the conversation away from the past she shared with Calvin, but Tom would scarcely drop the subject. He peppered them both with question after question about the events of four years ago. Who had married them? Why Hotel Fauchère? When had she planned to tell their family? How had Calvin built his empire so quickly? By the time dessert appeared, a persistent ache had taken up residence
behind her temples.
Much to her disappointment, Calvin looked considerably handsome. His evening clothes emphasized his lanky frame and broad shoulders, his hair swept back to feature those piercing, bright blue eyes. She could hardly glance at him without experiencing a surge of light-headedness, her limbs quaking with a deep craving to touch him. Surely this was a result of Tom’s insistence on dredging up the past.
Unfortunately, memories of their three-week honeymoon were slowly being unearthed in her mind, bit by bit, her body remembering, every cell begging for what it once had. She snuck a peek at his mouth from under her lashes. All the other places I’d like to taste just one . . . more . . . time.
Recalling the words caused a quiver somewhere low and intimate. Oh, sweet heaven, she thought, drawing in a shaky breath. She pushed away her baked Alaska. The elaborate dessert was one of her favorites, but the treat held little appeal at the moment, her stomach roiling with memories best forgotten. Why did she still crave him?
Tom reached over to touch her hand. “Lily, what’s wrong? I’ve never seen you push away baked Alaska before.”
Curse her perceptive brother. She needed to escape. “I’m fighting a bit of a headache, I’m afraid. I think I’ll retire early, if you both don’t mind.” She pushed her chair back and Tom came around to help her up. Calvin rose as well.
“Shall I walk you up?” her brother asked.
She avoided glancing in Calvin’s direction, fearing he’d see the real reason for her departure written all over her face. “No, I’m perfectly fine. Just tired. I’ll bid you both good evening and see you in the morning.”
Tom bent to kiss her cheek. “Get some sleep. Good night.”
“I will. Good night.”
“Good night,” Calvin said.
Once in her room, she decided to soak in a hot bath. Before he died, her father had ordered all the bathing rooms in Barrineau updated with hot and cold running water, and some even contained rain baths. Never had Lily been so grateful for the luxury. She needed to relax, to ease the anxiety that had clogged her veins the moment she clapped eyes on Calvin again.