Glittering Promises

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Glittering Promises Page 16

by Lisa T. Bergren


  Eleonora clambered over one pool wall, waded through it, then climbed over the next. I inwardly shook my head at my silliness. She wasn’t after Will. She might notice how handsome, how fine, how strong, how perfectly wonderful he was, but I could hardly begrudge her that.

  Wouldn’t I do the very same if I were in her shoes?

  CHAPTER 15

  Cora

  We drove home, relaxed and sleepy as the wind and sun dried our hair. Mine flew around my face wildly, but I couldn’t find it within myself to care. I knew it would be a tangled mess, but once at Villa Masoni, I’d brush it out and, if need be, wash it and begin again. I hadn’t even finished buttoning the troublesome buttons on my skirt, figuring that two were enough to hold it and hiding the rest by leaving my blouse untucked. My shoes were on the floor of the car. I wiggled my toes in delight, feeling more content than I had in years as we turned through the stone gates and onto the long drive to the villa, which ran between two sections of the vineyard.

  It was evening—we’d been gone all day—and we were all famished and eager for a casual supper on the patio as Eleonora had suggested. There’d been some talk of the others spending the night in Montalcino with some of Eleonora’s friends, and they’d all taken an overnight bag. But as we pulled nearer to the villa, we saw that the four other cars were there. They’d returned. I looked in alarm at Will, and he frowned at me, even as I hurriedly tried to tuck my blouse into my skirt and pat down my wild hair.

  We came to a halt. Will set the brake and looked over at us. We returned his hesitant look and then forced ourselves out of the motorcar.

  They emerged around the side of the house. Clearly, the servants had settled them on the patio, and they’d heard us arrive. Viv and Andrew came first. Both visibly pulled back, Viv lifting her hand to her mouth.

  I laughed under my breath and smiled over at her, cocking my head. “Surely it’s not as bad as all that,” I said, patting my hair.

  She resumed her approach, but I could see that she was still stunned by my appearance. Her eyes traveled from my bare toes, hovered over my haphazardly tucked waist, then went up to my hair. “My goodness, Cora. What happened to you?”

  I laughed outright then, as the others rounded the corner. Hugh and Lil, Felix and Nell, all looking as pristine and perfectly coifed as always. “By the saints, man,” Felix said, shaking Will’s hand, “from the looks of things, you’ve taken my sister and joined the Gypsies!”

  “If only I had such courage,” I said, smiling at him. “We were merely out to the thermal baths, and this is the result.”

  “I, for one, think you look wildly perfect,” Lil said, giving me a long hug. “If only we could wear our hair like that all the time!”

  I smiled and pretended to pose for a photograph. “All one has to do is go for a swim and then have a chauffeur drive you about under the sun until your hair is dry.”

  “Oh, I do wish we’d been with you for that swim,” Lil said, a pout on her pretty lips.

  “Indeed,” Hugh said, eyeing me with a suggestive gaze and then moving on to study Eleonora as she approached. “For multiple reasons.” He turned to Will. “How is it that you get all the luck, friend?”

  We moved inside, and Viv and the girls followed me as I went to my room to change. As soon as we were out of the men’s earshot, they began peppering me with questions. About Will. About me sleeping away the morning. About our wild outing to the baths. I did my best to answer them all, and eventually the girls went off to freshen up for supper. Yet Vivian stayed behind. I eyed her via my dressing table mirror. It had a long, jagged crack down the center and peeling backing. I still struggled with a few knots in my hair and resisted the urge to ring for Anna. “How was Montalcino?” I asked her.

  “Oh, fine,” she said, examining a broken fingernail. “Another quaint, ancient walled city, a fortress, a famous red wine, a connection with Siena’s history. You know, more of the same. Aren’t you weary of this? I long for the city. But mostly, I long for home.”

  “You do?” I asked, sitting down beside her, still trying to get the last knot out of my hair. I held a segment and furiously brushed at it. “That’s funny. Because all day, I’ve been thinking about how I never want to leave.”

  “Well, that’s because you’re in love,” she said, leaning forward to squeeze my knee.

  We both froze, recognizing what her statement implied.

  “And you’re not,” I said softly, staring into her eyes.

  She rose quickly. “Don’t be silly. I only meant—”

  “Viv. I know what you meant. But don’t you see what you said? What is in your heart?”

  “Not everyone lives a fairy tale, Cora,” she said, striding over to the window.

  “Believe me, I know.”

  “Do you?” she asked over her shoulder. “Cora Diehl Kensington? The belle of every ball? Catching the eye of every bachelor?”

  “I’m only interested in one,” I said, frowning slightly.

  She turned away, back to the window, and put a small hand on its frame. “But there are many more in the wings. If you turned Will away, Pierre would be there in a second,” she said so quietly I could barely hear her. “And if Pierre wasn’t, there’d be ten others.”

  I shoved off the bed and went over to her, leaning against the wall. She didn’t look at me, so I stared at her profile. “Is that what you fear, then? That if you don’t accept Andrew’s proposal, there will be no others?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, dodging my eyes, looking down, to the room, then back out again. “Perhaps. It’s always only been Andrew. Other than…”

  Other than the boy Anna had told me about. “You loved another, once. And it turned out badly.”

  Her eyes fluttered up to meet mine in surprise. “Anna told you?”

  I nodded. “She was trying to warn me about Father’s reaction to Will’s pursuit. But it was a different time, I think,” I said, taking her hand in mine, “for our family. When he drove your friend away, Father was different. Wasn’t he?”

  She paused, thought about it, then nodded. “Much,” she said under her breath.

  “Perhaps, Viv, it’s time to trust your heart again. Rather than living in fear of Father or fear of being alone. What if you trusted in your heavenly Father’s love for you? The inner strength He’s implanted within you? You’re a strong woman, Viv. Far stronger than you believe.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “I do.” I bit my lip. “And you deserve love, true love. Not an arranged marriage. Aren’t we past the era of such things? When women had no voice in their own future?” I pulled her away from the window, back to sit on the edge of the bed. “When I get home, Viv, I want to help make Montana the next state to accept the female vote.”

  “For national elections?”

  I nodded, my excitement growing as the idea formed in my mind. “And if we stood together, Vivian—as friends as well as kin—well, our Mr. Grunthall would have quite the story to wield indeed.” I studied her, my chin in hand. “You photograph well. I wouldn’t be surprised to find that a few bachelors turning up on Father’s doorstep in Butte, if they were to find out you were no longer Andrew Morgan’s—”

  “Shh!” she said with a frantic frown, gazing to my closed door, as if the lout was just outside.

  “Do you fear no one else will express interest? But who would dare with him around? Lillian told me he’s always had a temper—I take it that’s a well-known fact? Take him out of the picture, join arms with me as a suffragette, and you’ll find an entirely lovely sort of man. A man who can lead and yet allow his woman to shine too.” I smiled, thinking of Will. “Not someone who wants to put his woman in a cage.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “I do,” I said firmly, squeezing her hands in mine.

  She looked down, thinking for a long while, then back to meet my gaze. “I’m going to do it,” she said in a whisper. “End it. Tonight.” She looked wan, but she
also looked relieved to have made a decision.

  “You’re sure?” I asked, stunned she’d finally decided.

  She nodded.

  “I’ll be nearby,” I said. “If you need anything. Or if Andrew gets unruly… Should I warn Will?”

  “No!” she said, eyes sparking in alarm. “Please. No one else must know. If Andrew finds out from anyone else…” She shook her head. I knew what she meant. It would be terrible enough when she told him.

  I agreed, and we walked out of my room and down the hall, arm in arm. We were silent, but all along, I was praying that the Lord would give her courage this night, strength to follow through on her decision. That He would give her encouragement and, most of all, that Andrew would peaceably accept it.

  But as we came down the narrow stairwell, we could hear raised voices. After a shared glance, we moved down the second hall, into the great room and then outside to the veranda. Those gentlemen who weren’t standing rose when they saw us. The last turned, and we recognized the press agent.

  Mr. Grunthall had returned from his venture to Rome, where he’d gone to “pave the way for our arrival.”

  And apparently he did not have happy news to report.

  CHAPTER 16

  William

  “Cora,” Will said, offering his arm and ushering her in closer, “Mr. Grunthall has just told us that the newspapers are printing outrageous stories in our absence. He has asked us to hasten to Rome and complete our tour in public, giving reporters daily access.” He frowned and rubbed his temple. “But I don’t like it. It’s not safe. It will take Hawke only hours to find us. He’s certain to be awaiting us there, knowing we’ll eventually show up.”

  “You think,” Andrew said. “But why pay all these guards if we’re going to continue hiding out in the country?” he asked, flipping one hand toward Pascal and another at the far corner of the veranda.

  “It’s true,” Hugh said, crossing his arms and leaning against the villa wall. “So far, it’s more of a vacation for Pascal and Stephen than any hardship.”

  “I don’t regret keeping them on,” Mr. Kensington said. “But are they enough manpower, William? For what is ahead?”

  “In normal circumstances, yes,” Will said. “But what Simon is describing seems rather chaotic. And he wants us—Cora—at the center of that storm.”

  “It’s the only way,” Grunthall said firmly. “Since we cannot leave before the ship sails, we may as well take hold of this story and steer it ourselves. Because what they are saying…” With a glance at Cora and Viv, he let it drop and shook his head.

  Cora frowned. “Then let’s get to it,” she said, lifting her chin. “Do what we must. Speak to those we must. There are things I’d like to begin addressing myself, important matters, and perhaps this isn’t a bad place to begin.”

  Will stared at her in surprise. “I don’t know, Cora. I don’t think you understand what it might be like. Gone will be your quiet escapes to the countryside. You’ll be followed everywhere. Hounded.”

  “But won’t that be good, in a way?” she asked. “If there are reporters about us all the time, wouldn’t that make it more difficult for Hawke to get near again? He wouldn’t dare.”

  Will sighed. “Perhaps.”

  “Why must it all center on Cora?” Andrew said to Grunthall, tossing back the last of his wine and reaching for the carafe to pour more. “I’m the rising leader of Kensington & Morgan Enterprises—why not craft a story about me?”

  Will winced, hearing the pathetic, plaintive tone in the grown man.

  “While every one of you is of continued interest,” Grunthall said, “it is Copper Cora that has caught the attention of the readership at large.”

  Andrew reached out to grab Vivian’s hand, and she reluctantly stepped closer to him. Andrew seemed not to notice her hesitation. “What if we announced our engagement?”

  Everyone stilled.

  “Is that official, then?” Grunthall asked carefully, shifting his eyes to Viv and back to Andrew.

  “I don’t know, is it?” Andrew asked, smiling down at Vivian as if he expected her to immediately nod and smile. To Will’s knowledge, the only proposal he’d made was a halfhearted attempt in Venice, which had ended badly. And judging from Cora and Vivian’s glance at each other—

  “No,” Cora interjected too quickly, forcefully, surprising them all. She squared her shoulders and looked about at them, clearly trying to divert attention away from her sister. “This is my time. My moment. You all have had years of press. The public wants to know about me. Well, let’s give them a story that will keep them entertained.”

  “Just as I thought.” Andrew sneered, taking another swig of wine. “As long as our precious Cora gets what she wants—”

  “Now see here—” Will said, stepping forward.

  “What I want?” Cora cried, stepping forward too. “The only thing I’ve wanted is to be a part of this family, this company. To follow my heart but also the wisdom God gave me.”

  Andrew glared at her, then sighed heavily. “You stupid, silly woman,” he muttered, shaking his head and turning away.

  “Andrew!” Viv cried in dismay.

  “What? She is! Thinking only of herself! You want the journalists to have a story, Grunthall? I have some stories. I think it’s time the newspapermen focus not on the big, bad Kensington and Morgan families, but the treasure-seeking, manipulative little wench known as—”

  Felix decked him before any of them saw it coming. Andrew staggered back, and his goblet went flying, crashing among the stones behind him. He cradled his jaw, glaring at Felix, and took one step toward him before Viv stopped him.

  “I think you’ve said quite enough,” Felix said, holding his clenched fist before his chest.

  Andrew continued to stare at him for several seconds, while the rest of us held our breaths. “Come along, Vivian,” he said, never letting his eyes drop from Felix.

  Vivian went with him as he asked, visibly trembling.

  “Viv,” Cora said, reaching out to try and grab her hand.

  “No. He’ll stay away if I go to him.” She looked at Cora, begging her with her eyes. Will thought she looked desperate. Frightened.

  “Viv …” Cora tried again. And Will knew then for sure that something else had transpired between the sisters. Some agreement.

  Something shifted in Vivian’s eyes, and she bent her head and turned to follow where Andrew had gone, striding away down the length of the villa.

  When they had turned the corner, the rest of the group sank to their seats, all feeling overcome with the weariness of the moment. Will took a sip of wine, and then he looked to Mr. Grunthall. “What on earth are they reporting that is so heinous? That causes these families such grief?”

  “Some have said,” Grunthall said gently, leaning forward again, “that Cora has been killed and buried so that her father can keep all the Dunnigan holdings for himself.”

  Cora gasped.

  “There is much speculation as to whether your sisters or brother,” he said to Cora, “or perhaps your future brother-in-law did it.” He nodded toward the corner of the villa, where Andrew and Viv had disappeared.

  Cora frowned. “That’s easy enough to dispel. Put my picture in one paper, and all will see that it’s foolishness.”

  Mr. Grunthall picked up a twig of lavender blown loose by the wind. “Others say that you and Mr. McCabe have entered an illicit affair, and the family has disowned you, and now you’re all in hiding.”

  Cora shifted in her seat and glanced toward him. Will glowered at the press agent. But she had to know, had to be warned of what she faced. For the first time, Will acknowledged the wisdom in Mr. Kensington’s decision to hire the press agent and looked at the older man. He’d been silent through the entire conversation and appeared to have aged as the details unfolded.

  “Still others have suggested that Mr. McCabe himself orchestrated the events of your tour, to position himself as a hero, all in an endeavor
to force the Kensingtons and Morgans to pay him significant bonuses, lest they look like cads if they didn’t.”

  Will laughed under his breath and rubbed his forehead. “Lies! Such lies! And they call themselves journalists?”

  “They do not report it as fact,” Mr. Grunthall said. “They merely report the suppositions of those you’ve met—”

  “Met being a loose term,” Felix said, rubbing his knuckles and flexing his fingers as if they ached.

  Everyone was silent, waiting on Cora. She turned to face Grunthall. “I’ll do it. Whatever you need of me. But only if Will is beside me, all the way. I will not hide how I feel about him,” she said, looking at her father.

  Grunthall pursed his lips, considering her. His eyes flicked over to Will. “It will only intensify the scrutiny. If they find out that Cora has chosen Mr. McCabe over Pierre de Richelieu?” He rubbed his face and then shook his head, splaying his hands out on the table and looking down a moment, then back up to them. “I guarantee none of us have ever seen such a media frenzy as what shall occur then.”

  “Don’t do it, McCabe,” Wallace said to him.

  Will stared hard at the old man.

  “The girl has enough to handle without this, now,” Wallace said, gesturing between them.

  “No,” Cora said, rising. “You do not get to decide this, Father. Not this. This is between—”

  Wallace gasped and pulled his fist and right arm to his chest, looking stricken.

  “Wallace?” Mr. Morgan said. “Wallace!”

  Mr. Kensington leaned heavily to his right, his eyes bugging out. Felix and Hugh both rushed to his side as he slid partway out of his chair and helped him to the ground.

  Cora knelt by his side and tried to take his hand, but his hands were clenched, as if he were frozen. “Father? Father, what is it? What is wrong?” She leaned over him, holding his face in both hands, then looked up with stricken eyes at Will. “Will! We need Eleonora! We must fetch a doctor at once!”

 

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