Glittering Promises

by Lisa T. Bergren

  “Granted, Andrew would be blessed to marry Vivian,” I said. “But wouldn’t they both be blessed to marry someone they love, someone God brought into their lives, who is uniquely right for them? Not simply the best choice from a business standpoint?”

  My father was still for several moments. “Do you speak of Vivian and Andrew? Or yourself and Richelieu?”

  I looked at him, beside me. He seemed older, more weary. Smaller, somehow. “Vivian and Andrew,” I said.

  My father took another long sip of his whiskey and crossed his feet at the ankle. “Cora, my dear, there is much you do not yet know, no matter how wise you believe yourself to be. Love, passion, those things fade in time. What remains is family. Honor. Loyalty.”

  I banished thoughts of him sending my mother away, swollen with child. Of him choosing “honor” by hiding us away. Pawning us off to another man, who thankfully became my papa and my mother’s husband. “Is it not possible to have it all?” I asked softly. “Passionate loyalty? Honorable love?”

  He blew out a scoffing breath. “Rarely.” He took a sip and considered me, gesturing to me with his glass. “With their combined fortunes, Andrew and Vivian will never want for a thing. That is the most I can hope for my children.”

  Exasperation filled me, yet I dared not let it show. He was listening to me even if he didn’t yet hear me; I didn’t want to endanger that. “I disagree. There is so much more for a couple to aspire to… And don’t you see? With one of their fortunes, they would not want for a thing.” I shook my head and shoved off the desk, pacing. “And sometimes, sometimes, wanting things, wishing for, working for them, is a good thing. Otherwise, we become nothing but spoiled boys and girls frustrated that we don’t get every new toy we see.”

  He was quiet for a breath, then two. “Leave me now, Cora,” he said, taking the last long sip from his glass. “It is enough for today. Is it not?” He turned his dark blue eyes on me, and I stared back at him. Then I nodded and shoved away from the desk and moved out of the room, feeling his gaze on my back with every step.

  William

  Resting on the edge of a vast chair, elbows on his knees, face in his hands, Will waited for Cora to finish talking to her father. When she turned the corner and spied him, her whole demeanor seemed to lift. She slowed her pace. He rose and went to her, took her hands, then turned to lead her down the hall. “So?” he whispered, glancing back at the empty hall to the salon, then to her again. “Any luck in getting him to see what needs to be done about Andrew and Vivian?”

  Cora shook her head and grimaced. “Perhaps a little. I fear I overstepped my bounds.” She squeezed his arm and gave him a pained smile. “Sooner or later my father may well rue the day he ever brought me into the fold.”

  “I doubt that.” They walked a bit in silence. “Perhaps that’s what Vivian and Andrew are supposed to discover on this journey—how disastrous a union theirs would be. Nothing like the tour to show people how poorly they fit together.”

  “Or how well they do,” she said, smiling up at him.

  He grinned at her and led her to two matching chairs tucked together in an alcove, a tiny table between them. He gestured to one and she took it, and he the other. “Cora, before we leave Venezia,” he said, reaching out to take her hand in his, “I must know. Forgive me, but I must know.”

  “What?”

  “What transpired between you and Pierre?” He shook his head, frustrated with himself. “I mean, I needn’t know all that was said. Just this: can you truly choose me over him without looking back? There are many battles ahead for me…us,” he amended, “if you are on my arm. Life with Pierre…it’d be far easier for you, in some ways.”

  She leaned forward and covered his hand with hers. There was no grander feeling than to be touched by her. Her small fingers seemed to ignite his every cell, and he had to bodily resist the urge to lift her to her feet, to hold her, to kiss her. He concentrated on her beautiful blue eyes instead, willing her to say the words he longed to hear.

  “Will, it is you I love. You. I don’t care what we must face to be together. But we shall do it together. What we have is something so much more true than what Vivian and Andrew have,” she said, dropping her tone and eying the empty hallway. “What we have is a gift from God Himself. I’m convinced it is right. Aren’t you?”

  He hated the glimpse of concern he saw in her eyes, and he shook his head vehemently, hoping to send her fear scurrying. “Oh, yes. Cora, I adore you. You’ve honored me far more than I could ever imagine, choosing me…” He glanced away, embarrassed by the sudden lump in his throat. He swallowed hard and then looked back to her. “I aim to do all I can to be worthy of that choice. But Cora, you know you have my heart. Everything I have and am is yours to do with what you wish. I only ask one thing.”

  “And that is?”

  “If you ever have second thoughts. If you ever wonder—”

  “I won’t,” she said, shaking her head.

  “But if you do, I ask you…Cora, it’s important to me that I not be the last one to find out. That I not become the goat in this group instead of the bear. Please. Come to me first if you have any desire to end our courtship. I’ll try to win you back, of course,” he said with a smile. “But it’s important to me. That we be forthright. Honest with each other. Always and forever.”

  She laughed then, holding his hands. “Oh, Will. We’ve barely begun our courtship, and now you think we must work out the rules for ending it? Can we not simply move forward together, trusting the One that brought us together? Trusting each other?”

  “Yes, of course,” he said, wondering why it was so important to him that he’d nearly botched things before they’d truly begun.

  She squeezed his hands. “I’m with you and for you, William McCabe. You are the one that has my heart.”

  He smiled at her and kissed her then. But try as he might, he could not still the small, stubborn voice in his mind telling him he might hold her for now, but he would never keep her.

  CHAPTER 5

  Cora

  We left Venice in the wee hours of the following morning, riding in several long skiffs powered by steam engines, their quiet tutt-tutt-tutt sounds the only noise on the canal as we slid by the curving line of palazzos, boats, and gondolas tied for the night against their tall spiral-painted poles, as they had been for centuries. We were bleary-eyed as we silently said good-bye to the magical city, but I felt my pulse quicken at the thought of leaving Nathan Hawke behind forever. It made me smile, thinking of him awaking to find our palazzo empty, to discover that the servants knew only that we’d left for Firenze in the dark watches of the night.

  As we’d explicitly told them.

  There’d be no reason for Hawke to doubt their story, even if he might wonder at our secretive middle-of-the-night exit. A traditional Grand Tour route would normally track through Florence and Rome, but we were now on our own reimagined tour. We’d do as Will had outlined, staying outside of the cities and slipping carefully in and out, all the while keeping an eye out for our potential nemesis and hopefully evading him all the way to Rome. In the spirit of staying out of the limelight, we made our way not to a grand hotel or palazzo but to a tidy two-story villa situated on a hilltop outside of Turin and owned by an older couple that Antonio knew.

  They took one look at us and ushered us in as graciously and warmly as if we were penniless orphans, a thought that amused me, what with all our servants and our mountains of luggage piled on their doorstep that morning. We were exhausted from our sleepless night, so we decided to rest for the day in our spartan but clean rooms, not even venturing out to sup. Instead, we forced down bread and cheese and grapes, sitting about in silence. I was so weary I felt ill, as if my very bones were brittle and under threat of shattering if I taxed them too much. We retired before dark and rose late the next morning. It was only then that I started to feel the spark of life in my soul again.

  Hope. It made me think of what I’d heard in the basil
ica in Venice. Wait and trust. I remember, Lord. But for how long?

  I entered the small dining room and saw that my father, Mr. Morgan, Will, and two other men were sitting at the table. As usual, none of the other younger people were yet up. I paused, not wishing to interrupt but curious about what they were discussing, when my father caught sight of me and waved me in. “Cora,” he said. “Please, come and join us.”

  “Are you certain?” I said, hovering in the doorway, my eyes moving to Will’s. He had an odd expression on his face, as if he were stunned, confused. “I can simply take a cup of coffee in my room,” I said weakly, now wanting to dodge what was to come, more than ever. If it unnerved Will—

  “No, no. This pertains to you. Please. Join us,” my father said, pulling out an empty chair.

  The other men were rising, and I saw that there were stacks of paper on the table. My father introduced me to the men, an attorney and a banker from Turin. Each shook my hand, bowing and smiling. Clearly, neither of them spoke English. Perhaps that was why Will was there, to translate. I couldn’t imagine another reason why my father would invite him into one of his meetings. But I was glad he was here since my father’s words—“this pertains to you”—had set me on edge.

  I sat down, and a maid poured a cup of coffee and set down a basket of rolls in front of me. Distantly, I knew they smelled heavenly, just pulled from an oven, but my stomach roiled. I forced myself to pretend to take a sip of coffee, to appear calm, regardless of what I felt inside.

  “I arranged for these men to meet us here, Cora,” my father said, picking up his own white cup, steam dancing before his face. “They have drawn up papers to formally bequeath you and the Diehls controlling interest in the Dunnigan mine. Sign those papers, and you will be the wealthiest woman in America.”

  I stared at him a moment and then set down my cup, grimacing as I allowed it to clatter. But there was nothing for it; my hands were shaking. I glanced at Will, saw his nearly imperceptible nod and raise of eyebrows as if to assure me that this was on the up-and-up. Then I looked back to my father. “So…truly? No more arguments? No more games? You simply intend to give us the mine?”

  “Well, fifty-one percent,” he said, staring back at me. “I’ll keep the other forty-nine.”

  “Wh-why?” I stammered. “Why now? After all…”

  He shrugged lightly and took a sip of his coffee at last. “You wanted it on your terms. And I decided you were right. It had been Alan’s land for all those years. It was the least I could do for them. For you. To honor how they raised you.” He settled his cup in his saucer, his hand rock steady in comparison to mine. “And it sets you up properly as a Kensington.”

  So there it was at last. I stared at him, and he stared back. To accept this offer as a Diehl, on behalf of my parents, I had to accept my position as a Kensington, too. What did that mean?

  I looked to Will with a question in my eyes.

  “How can you say no?” he asked quietly. “He’s offering you what you wanted—your share of a fortune. A controlling interest in a fortune. You’re not only wealthy in your own right, Cora. You’re in charge of that wealth.”

  I had to remind myself to breathe. I’d considered it but thought the opportunity was a long way off. Thought I’d have to battle my father for every cent, every portion. And now here he was, freely offering it to me. My eyes narrowed as I looked back to him. Wallace Kensington never offered anything freely. “You understand I don’t know the first thing about running a mine.”

  “Yes. I will assist you if you wish, when you wish. But ownership involves steep responsibilities. Labor. Finances. Strategic, wise decisions. All of which I believe you can manage in time, with training. After all, you were first in your class in mathematics, science, history. In high school as well as Normal School, passing up every one of your male competitors.”

  I started, and then my eyes narrowed. How did he know that?

  He smiled, catlike. “Ah, yes, it’s long been clear to me that you have intellect that would be wasted in some country school on the plains of Montana. It simply took me some time to realize that my independent, smart daughter might very well run the Dunnigan enterprise better than I might myself.” He shook his head, his eyes partially cold calculation and partially warm with admiration. “And it is not only book sense you have, daughter. You have people sense. It was you who helped me and Morgan evade the potential strike in Billings.” He tilted his head. “That would’ve cost us thousands. Instead, all your predictions came true. With a small investment, our miners are more content than ever. We have no shortage of workers, and in turn, they have upped production, to the benefit of our bottom line.”

  “How much?” I asked evenly.

  He shrugged one shoulder even as he smiled over my question. “See there? That’s a businessman’s response. And to answer, eighteen or nineteen percent. A sound investment. An investment I can track directly back to you.”

  I stared at him.

  He huffed a laugh. “Why do you hesitate? Is this not exactly what you wanted?”

  “I wanted a portion of the profits. I never anticipated…never thought…” I gathered myself and lifted my chin. “I never once thought you’d consider giving over charge of the entire mine.”

  “You were born on that soil. Your folks raised you right, there. And I shall teach you what you need to know to run the mine.”

  “I’m hardly a prospector,” I said, lifting one brow.

  “Aren’t you? You ventured here with us. A bit of a gambler in you, I suspect.”

  “Not that I had much of a choice.”

  “Do you regret it?” His eyes slid to Will and back.

  I studied him. He knew what I’d meant. But he was right. Even after our rough start, would I have honestly returned to a summer on the ranch as opposed to what I’d experienced, what I’d gained, the people I’d come to know? It was my turn to eye Will. He met my gaze with concern, clearly wrestling with the decision as I was. The banker and attorney simply watched us banter back and forth, waiting for Will to translate anything they needed to know.

  Wallace Kensington rose and leaned over the table toward me. “Cora, it is uncommon for a woman to be in such a position. But you are a Kensington. I know you have what will be required. Or I shall help you discover it within you.”

  So there, at last, was what bothered me. He knew I’d have to turn to him in order to learn how to manage such a business. “I am a Diehl, too,” I said, trying to buy time to think.

  “That is why the Dunnigan mine will be known as the Kensington-Diehl Mine,” he said, sliding a stack of papers in my direction. I looked down to the first page, and in the midst of all the verbiage, our names jumped out in capital letters: CORA DIEHL KENSINGTON, ALAN AND ALMA DIEHL.

  I looked to Will, and he said, “Cora, how can you say no? You will find your way.” He waved at my father and me.

  “So that’s it? The papers are all drawn up?” I asked.

  “They are,” my father said, sliding the rest of the papers from his side of the table to mine. “They’re in Italian, for expedience, and will be translated into English once we return. I’ll leave you with Will, who can translate for you, and you may ask any question that arises as you go through the documents with these fine gentlemen. Summon me when you are ready to discuss it.”

  He turned to leave.

  “Father,” I called. He slowly turned around, waiting on me. “There is one other stipulation.”

  He paused. “Stipulation?” he asked, enunciating each syllable.

  “I want you to forgive all of the McCabe debts.” I said it quickly, before I lost my nerve, knowing I was pressing my luck.

  “Cora, I—” Will sputtered.

  “No,” I said, looking to him and continuing to speak to him even as I turned toward my father. “He has been using that to keep us apart. If he’s honest in this endeavor to move forward in a spirit of reconciliation, it shall be no skin off his nose to release you from w
hat was never your burden to bear in the first place.” I took a breath, knowing I was pushing into dangerous territory. “Do it as an act of good faith, Father. If you are truly to treat me as a partner, don’t sour that relationship by holding the man I love over a fire he can’t hope to escape. It was Stuart’s debt, not his. You lost in that gamble.”

  “Cora, I—” Will tried to interrupt.

  But I was emboldened, feeling the power unfold within me. This was the right thing to do. The honorable thing to do. And I would see it done. “Please. Release Will from his bonds, Father. And honor what you agreed to pay him, if he completes his task as the bear of this tour. Despite what you think about our relationship, he has served our group well in leading us.”

  My father’s eyes narrowed, and he sniffed, then readjusted his hands over the glass knob of his cane. I reminded myself to breathe. I couldn’t portray every confidence in my entreaty if I fainted dead away.

  “Very well,” he said at last. “But anything of Stuart McCabe’s of value, including his apartment, goes against the debt,” he said to Will, drawing himself up straighter. “Men may accuse me of generosity, but never of stupidity.”

  “That’s fair,” Will breathed.

  With that, my father turned on his heel and left the room. The banker and lawyer looked from his departing back to us, waiting expectantly.

  “Un momento,” Will said to them, holding up a finger and turning toward me with a smile.

  I looked up at him in delight, wondering if this day could possibly become any more miraculous. He gazed down at me with wonder. “Oh, you marvelous girl, you. Did you just manage to do what I believe you have?”

  “I think so,” I said with a nod, taking his hands in mine and squeezing.

  He shook his head in awe and then reluctantly let go of one of my hands to lift the pages of the agreement. “I’ve glanced through them already. I’ll translate every word for you so you can judge for yourself. But if you sign those, what your father said was true. You are about to become the wealthiest woman in America.”