Glittering Promises

by Lisa T. Bergren

  As Will took a sip of his wine, he considered them, then the horizon of Rome’s rooftops. He doubted he’d ever seen a greater difference within a group after a solitary summer. Every traveler returned home changed, he mused, in small or big ways. And most went home to meet expectations. But these travelers were returning transformed.

  When the footmen had cleared the last of the dishes, he looked down the table to Mr. Morgan, at the far end, and then around at the others. Antonio shot him a knowing glance, suspecting what was coming.

  “On this night, it is the McCabe custom on the tour for each member to share what you think you will remember most about the summer. Much has happened for us all, these last months. For me, too.” Will smiled and lifted his goblet in a silent toast to Cora. “I’m well aware that you all have suffered painful losses. But I’m confident you’ve gained, too. So give it a moment of thought, then let’s all contribute what we think we will be taking with us in memory, into the future.”

  The table fell silent. Far below them, they could hear the clop clop clop of a horse’s hooves on cobblestone and, in the distance, the beep of a motorcar horn. Shouts of greeting and laughter echoing up the stone faces of the grand buildings. Will pushed his chair back from the table and looked out to the skyline in coral-hued twilight. He so loved this city, as his uncle had loved it. But he was eager to return home, to let the next chapter of his life—alongside Cora—unfold. He wanted to meet her folks and determine how he and Cora might both manage her responsibilities in Dunnigan and Butte and make their way toward what God wanted them to do.

  “I mostly don’t want to remember this awfulness with Andrew,” Nell said first. All eyes moved to her. “Is that terrible of me?”

  Will glanced down to Mr. Morgan, who had bowed his head, and then back to Nell. “Obviously, it’s unavoidable,” he said gently. “But I’d be very glad if you remembered other things too.”

  She nodded a little and looked to her lap for a moment, then again to him. “Then I shall remember the grand parties in all the grand places we’ve stayed, and all you’ve taught us, Will. It will stay with me forever.”

  Will smiled.

  “And while this was the place we lost Father,” Lillian put in, “I also think I got to know him better here. He worked hard, of course, but here and there…I don’t think he and I ever chatted more than we did these past weeks. I’m grateful, in a way.” She gave a little shrug. “You know. For the difficulties we faced, because it brought him and Mr. Morgan here. If Father had died…” Her voice broke then, and she paused to gather herself. “If he had died at home, alone, it would’ve been awful, I think.”

  Felix gave her a sad smile and covered her hand with his. Then he looked up to Will. “I think I’ll remember jumping into the Rhone the most.”

  “Here, here,” Hugh said, lifting his goblet. “And the women of France. And Italy. And England. And—”

  “Hugh,” Mr. Morgan interrupted.

  Hugh lifted his hand and smiled his apology. “The women have been extraordinary,” he dared to add as he quirked a smile. “But, McCabe, you’ve been a fine guide as well. I know we’ve not been the most attentive students, but you’ve been more than attentive as a bear. As Lil said, I will remember much of what you taught us in the years to come.”

  Will smiled in surprise. “Thank you, Hugh.”

  “I believe,” Vivian said, twisting her glass in a slow circle over the linen cloth, “that I’ll remember this summer as the one in which I gained a sister.” She looked up at Cora. “One I didn’t want at first but can’t imagine being without, now. And without the tour, journeying through the good and bad together, I don’t know if that would have happened at all.”

  Cora smiled, and tears immediately welled in her eyes. “Oh, Viv. Me too. You, and Lil and Felix… I never imagined…” She shook her head and wiped away an escaped tear with the corner of her napkin, then looked at each of them. “I’m so grateful. So grateful you all are my family.”

  “As are we,” Felix said.

  Cora looked at Will. “This will forever be the summer I lost everything I thought I had—my home, my proximity to my folks, even a sense of who I was. My identity. But it will also be the summer that God used the tour to rebuild all of that into something eternal, regardless of what happens in the future. And it will be the summer that I found new love.” She smiled softly at him, and he thought he’d never seen her look more lovely than she did in that moment. “The love of a fine man, and the love of family I didn’t know I had.”

  The table fell silent, except for the sniffling of the women.

  “Wallace would be so glad to be here, hearing all this,” Sam Morgan said quietly. All eyes shifted to him. “He would have been proud of his children.” He nodded to them all. “And he would’ve shared in my pride over you, Nell, and you, Hugh. He would have shared in my sorrow over Andrew’s choices, but then he would have stood with me in seeing him through the consequences of that, too.” He heaved a sigh and then looked up again. “We sent you off on the Olympic as children. But as we embark tomorrow, I know that I am in the company of a fine group of adults.” He lifted his glass of wine and looked down the table at Will. “We owe a debt of gratitude to you, Will. And to you, Antonio. Thank you.”

  “Hear, hear,” Felix said.

  “Hear, hear,” the others echoed.

  CHAPTER 40

  Cora

  The next morning, I wore my dreadful mourning crepe, as did my sisters. On board the ship, Will thought it would be satisfactory to wear black arm bands, but in attendance with our father’s body, nothing but the formal black seemed right.

  My eyes moved to the men carrying our father’s casket past us, in solemn procession, up and into the ship. People parted before them, frowning or looking distressed, as if recognizing the import of the casket’s presence for our family. Many, despite the good seal on the casket and the embalming of my father’s body, lifted handkerchiefs to their noses.

  But then Antonio was before me, a welcome distraction, giving me a hug and a kiss on both cheeks and taking my hand. “Cora,” he said, smiling at me. “I will anticipate hearing about your progress through young William’s correspondence. He will be a fine husband to you, and I know you will be a fine wife for him. I look forward to greeting you as Mrs. McCabe.”

  “Thank you, Antonio,” I said, feeling the heat of the blush at my cheeks. Discussing our marriage made it seem impossibly real. I was going to marry William McCabe! The thought of it left me with nothing but joy, and I hoped with everything in me that we wouldn’t have to wait long. Even the prospect of parting in New York left me feeling melancholy.

  “I would very much like to have a photograph of the two of you when you do marry. I know you will be a beautiful bride.”

  “It makes me smile, thinking of you returning home to family and friends after this sojourn with us, Antonio,” I said. “Thank you for taking such good care of us this summer.”

  “It has been my pleasure.” He kissed my hand and then reluctantly let me go, moving on to say farewell to the others, along with the rest of the detectives, who would now be free to return to their homes in France and Italy. Seeing Nathan Hawke escorted away by the police had done a great deal to settle our fears about potential kidnappers. And for the next six days of the crossing, we would have no one but Will, Felix, Hugh, and Mr. Morgan to protect us. It felt sufficient to me. The sooner we could get back to a semblance of normalcy, the more content I would be.

  Our farewells said, and our belongings already aboard, we followed the rest of the first-class passengers. I looked down the dock halfway down the ship, where a multitude of third-and second-class passengers stood waiting to do the same. They looked upon us as if we were heroes of some sort, some actually waving, and I lifted my hand to wave back.

  Vivian looked to whom I waved, the jet stones of her broach flashing in the sun. She lifted her eyebrows. “Must you?”

  I laughed. “Three months ago,”
I said with a sigh, “I would have been fortunate to be in their number, affording a ticket aboard the Olympic at all. Is it truly so unseemly, sister?”

  She shook her head as if too weary to argue and edged ahead to join Felix. I sighed. For as far as we’d come, we still had a distance to go.

  Mr. Morgan took the place she’d left beside me. “Does it trouble you, leaving?”

  “No,” I said, looking his way. “I am eager to see what lies ahead.”

  He walked with his hands behind his back. “You take after your father, that way. Wallace was always wondering what was around the next bend in the road, what business opportunity might arise.”

  I thought about that for a moment. It still surprised me to think I was in any way like Wallace Kensington, but that forward-thinking drive was not anything I could pinpoint to in my mama or papa, so I supposed he was right. “Do you mean not to say your last words to your father until the funeral?” Mr. Morgan said, stopping beside me, as those in front of us hit some unseen delay.

  “Pardon me?”

  “Your father’s body. The others, your sisters, your brother, saw him at the hospital. But you, child…I’ve noticed you avoid it. It’s important to say your piece, say your good-byes.”

  I grimaced inwardly at the thought. Why was it so important? Could I not say my farewells while staring at the swirling waves of the sea rather than beside the empty corpse of my father? But it seemed important to my siblings, too, that I do this dark deed. Almost as if they could not close that particular chapter of our tale until I had read the part as they had.

  “I admit I’ve avoided it.”

  He took my elbow, and we began moving again, up the gangplank. “May I ask why?”

  “I’m not entirely sure.”

  He nodded. “Wallace’s casket will be in a private hold, to which I’ll have access. Perhaps you’d like me to accompany you at some point on the journey? We could each say one more good-bye. Though I think we’d best keep the casket closed.”

  I nodded hurriedly, but inside I railed against the idea. Visiting a casket in the loud bowels of the ship seemed more like something out of a scary tale than some peaceful, meaningful moment of parting.

  William

  Two days into their crossing, Will passed the Olympic Mercantile & Fine Goods store. He had gone fifty paces when he stopped, drew himself up, and turned around. There, in the corner of the window, he saw it. A beautiful white satin dress overlaid with gossamer-thin lace. Atop the mannequin was a matching crown and veil, and at the bottom were tiny slippers also covered in lace. Beside the slippers was a card that read, Why Wait? We Can Arrange Your Romantic Shipboard Nuptials. Inquire Within.

  Will smiled and tapped his lips. She’d said she’d like to marry whenever, wherever, but had she really meant it?

  He altered course and took the stairs nearest to him, heading to Lillian and Nell’s room. Five minutes later he reached it and knocked on the door, then straightened his jacket, hoping he didn’t look as feverishly excited as he felt.

  “Who is there?” Nell asked, as he’d instructed them all to do, before unbolting the door.

  “It’s Will. May I see you and Lil for a moment?”

  He heard the bolt slide aside, and then the door swung open. “Come in,” Nell said, gesturing to the tiny sitting room with three chairs that blocked off the rest of the first-class cabin. “Please, sit,” she said. “I’ll go and fetch Lillian. She’s just changing for a walk about the decks with Vivian.”

  “It’s a good day for it,” Will said.

  Nell left him alone, and in a few minutes she and Lil both returned and Will stood up, just as Viv came to the door.

  “Perfect,” Will said. “I wanted to speak to you all, actually.” They all sat down. “I have an idea,” Will said nervously, wondering if he was making the biggest mistake of his life. “Downstairs, in the merc, they have a bridal gown for sale. And…”

  Both girls leaned slightly forward, eyes wide. They looked at each other and then to him. “Cora’s seen it!” Lil said, grinning. “She loves it!”

  “Sh-she does?” Will said, both surprised and pleased. “Well, I was wondering…what would you two think of a surprise wedding? Could we pull it off? A wedding in a few days? Do you think she would like it?”

  All three moaned with pleasure and began speaking at once.

  “I could take care of the flowers!”

  “And the cake. I adore cake!”

  “I imagine the captain would perform the ceremony.”

  “Or would you think Cora would prefer the chaplain?”

  Will laughed under his breath, watching as the three of them fired questions and comments at each other and, on occasion, him. But it was clear that they were off and running. After a while, he interrupted. “If this goes as I wish, it would happen on the last night of our voyage. A late-afternoon ceremony, a private dinner in the dining room, dancing.”

  “Oh!” Lil said. “It would feel as if the entire ship were a part of it!”

  “One grand party!” Nell added.

  Will nodded with a smile. But then he sobered. “I only have two hesitations.” “And those are?” Viv asked.

  “Would Cora want to plan it? Be a part of it?”

  Vivian tapped her lips. “I don’t think so. She’s a practical girl, at the core, and I know she wants only to be your wife. I think she’ll consider it romantic, this surprise.”

  Will smiled, feeling a jolt of excitement as the word wife echoed through his mind.

  “What was your second hesitation?”

  Will shifted uncomfortably and swallowed hard. “I…I, uh…Well, you see…”

  Viv smiled in understanding. “If your second hesitation is in regard to funding…”

  “Well, yes,” Will said gratefully. “You see, I don’t get paid until the end of our tour. I could reimburse you when—”

  “Nonsense,” Viv said, dismissing his thought with a wave. “We are Cora’s family. It’s only right that we prepare her trousseau as well as get her everything she needs for the nuptials. The girls and I will see to all of that.”

  “Thank you,” Will said.

  “Cora went to the hold with Mr. Morgan, so we could go to the mercantile now!” squealed Lil. But her words gave Will pause.

  “To the hold?” Will asked, frowning in puzzlement.

  The smile slid from Lillian’s face. “Yes,” she said with a sigh. “Cora agreed to visit Father’s coffin.” She looked to Nell. “Mr. Morgan felt it important.”

  Cora

  Mr. Morgan slid a key from his jacket pocket and unlocked the heavy door. Inside was a narrow room barely wide enough for a person to walk beside the casket, which was set on the wood floor and strapped into place to keep it from sliding in heavy seas. He let the door shut behind him after I pulled the string on a single bulb hanging above us.

  I swallowed hard against the faint stench. “Why?” I whispered. “Why are you forcing me to do this?”

  “Because it’s important,” he said gently. “You only met the man a few months ago, and now he’s gone. He was a hard man, and he put you through hard things, Cora. If you don’t do this hard thing, it may haunt you for the rest of your life.”

  He handed me a bottle of cinnamon oil to hold beneath my nose, as well as a handkerchief.

  I hesitated and then took his crisp, clean handkerchief with the initials SJM embroidered on the corner, shaking out the folds. I held it to my nose and mouth and concentrated on breathing in the sweet, spicy scent, which was strong enough to cover the odor, then nodded to Mr. Morgan, signaling my readiness.

  I ran my hand down the length of the smooth, rich mahogany, which had been sanded and finished to a fine sheen.

  My father lay inside. He’d swept into my life and fairly overpowered me in so many ways, and yet now here he was, powerless.

  Mr. Morgan looked down to his shoes, then back at me. “When I was a boy, my father died, far from home, and was buried there. For
years, I felt like he might come home at any moment, come through the door, be somewhere that I could go and talk to him. I think if I’d had a moment…” His voice cracked, and he looked down and to the side as if embarrassed, sniffing. “If I’d had a moment to recognize that someone who’d been so powerful, so forceful in my life, was no longer present, that he’d moved on, I wouldn’t have been so haunted by his memory. I could move on, knowing he’d given me what I needed to work, to succeed. After I’d said good-bye.”

  He looked down at the casket and then back to me. “Wallace was a powerful, forceful man, like my father. Part of him is evident in you.” He paused before adding, “Now say your piece, and I’ll wait for you outside the door.”

  With that, he left me. The heavy door made me jump a little as it shut. I wished I was outside, with him, rather than trapped here with the shell of my father’s body. I didn’t have anything to say to him, did I? Hadn’t I said all there was to say?

  I licked my lips and cleared my throat, imagining Wallace Kensington nestled inside the casket, serene, his skin waxy and gray. I coughed and tried to gather my thoughts. “I suppose I want to say that…”

  What mattered? Now? To me? After all we’d been through, after all that was done?

  “I suppose I wish you were still here. To teach me what I need to know about the mine, about running a mine. I’m glad Mr. Morgan is with me. But I wish I could say thank you,” I said. “Thank you for doing what you didn’t have to. For giving me and my parents a part of the mine. For providing for us. Whatever your reasons…” I ran my hand along the edge of the coffin again and looked back at where I imagined his head was. “Thank you. I wish…” My voice cracked, and I frowned. “I wish we’d had more time. To find our way with each other. Whatever that was supposed to be.”

  I paused, but there was no more to say. My mind was utterly blank. I decided Mr. Morgan had much more he wanted to say to his father than I did to mine. I started for the door when it came to me. I rested my hand on the edge again. “Oh, and I suppose I wish to say I’m sorry. That I was stubborn for so long. That I wasted some time that we could’ve had. I know it wasn’t all your fault. And also that I forgive you. I mean…I’m still rather angry about some of the things you did and how you did them. I’m angry that you tried to control me rather than love me. But I forgive you.”