“You follow well,” he said after a few moments.
“I was taught well,” she explained.
He frowned. “Really? How well?”
“Quite well,” she answered. Then to her dismay and delight, Brant began to lead into a cross-over step—the very same step the Captain taught her years before. Lauryn followed him easily. He smiled and nodded his approval.
“He taught you well, your Captain,” Brant noted.
“How did you know it was the Captain?” she asked.
“Who do you think taught me?” he whispered as he leaned toward her ear. Laura taught Brant the step? Lauryn’s mouth dropped open in wonderment.
“Don’t try to tempt me into kissing you,” Brant whispered. “My resolve where self-control is concerned is refortified today.” Lauryn shut her mouth quickly, simultaneously thrilled and disappointed.
“Now, show me what you’re made of. Can you keep up with me?” he asked.
Lauryn narrowed her eyes, accepting his challenge. He led her around the room in a flawless cross-over waltz. Eventually, Brant returned to a normal step and Lauryn triumphantly smiled up at him.
“You realize, of course,” he whispered, “that there aren’t two other people in this room our age who can pull that off.”
“I do,” she assured him. Almost instantly an odd dizziness began to overtake her. It was as if she were looking through a thick fog. Suddenly, it was the Captain’s face she saw before her, the Captain’s arms that held her. Only for a moment and then she could see Brant once more. She saw him saying her name, but she could not hear him.
Her dizziness increased as she realized what was happening. It was her vision! The one she’d had years past while dancing with the Captain in her bedroom. That odd, dreamy moment when the Captain seemed to change and she found herself looking through a veil of fog, searching for the identity of a stranger who held her in his arms. It had been Brant! The stranger in the fog! She knew it now! It was Brant that had been shown to her in that visionary dream. And now, that same moment, that blessed peek of the future…it was upon her again. Only it was reality!
“Lauryn?” Brant asked. “Are you all right?” The fog lifted and the present was all around Lauryn once more. Brant, though still leading her in the waltz, studied her with concern.
“I’m…I’m fine,” Lauryn lied. “Just a bit dizzy. You’re quite a dancer and I guess that I am not.” Brant’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he seemed to let her fib pass. The music ended and Brant escorted Lauryn to the refreshment table.
“You’re sure you’re all right?” he asked once more.
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Why don’t you take Nana and Aunt Felicity some punch. I’m sure they’re simply parched.”
Again Brant looked at her and she knew he was not as easily put off as she had hoped. He nodded. Filling two punch cups he rather unwillingly, left her in search of the two elderly ladies.
Once Brant was far enough away that he could not return too quickly, Lauryn escaped. As quietly and as unnoticeably as she could, she left the party and retreated out to the veranda. Breathing deeply, she tried to calm her frazzled state.
Her vision! The one she’d had years ago while waltzing with the Captain. The foggy vision of her Mr. Perfectly Imperfect. It was Brant! It wasn’t as though she hadn’t already been feeling he was the one she’d love forever. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t entertained ideas of belonging to him, being his wife. Of course she had. Daily! Almost hourly since the very moment she’d met him on the train months ago. But to have this…this…this vision come to her—it had flung her thoughts into complete turmoil, sent her heart aching far worse than it ever had before. She wanted to possess him with a greater urgency! She wanted to abandon everyone and everything else in her life in order to try and win him!
And had she won him? From the perspective of anyone who may have seen his behavior toward her…his attentiveness, their passionate moments under the dogwoods…Lauryn knew anyone witnessing the friendship they’d forged would surely think she had begun to secure him as her own. Of course, few living souls knew of their sleuthing together—few knew of Laura’s incredible hold on Brant’s loyalty and heart.
Lauryn’s vision should’ve encouraged her; given her new hope. Instead, it depressed her, frightened her, allowed doubt into her soul somehow. Once more, in an unconscious, desperate attempt to shield herself from complete heartbreak, Lauryn tried to convince herself that it was impossible. She couldn’t have Brant! Not while Laura was still haunting him. Not while Laura still occupied the loving space in his heart. Maybe never! In her innocence and inability to believe herself worthy of such a man, Lauryn’s uncertainties were very well founded in her own inexperienced mind. After everything that tried to tell her otherwise, could she still not believe she was capable of winning Brant for herself?
Looking up into the heavens she pleaded in a soft whisper, “Please! Please stop this until we’ve found Laura. I can’t take this.” She clutched fiercely at the bodice of her blouse as if, somehow, she could squeeze the aching from her heart by doing so. She shook her head and brushed furiously at her tears, wondering how anyone could say that love was the ultimate happiness. She’d even said it herself, simple, naive and untried fool that she was. How could anyone praise such a love as she owned for Brant when it caused such pain?
With each inhaled breath of air her feelings for him grew. With every moment she lived, the invisible vine of her love for him wound more densely throughout her body, constricting her breath, stabbing at her heart and heating her tears. They ran like hot rivulets down her face now as she struggled to calm herself, to steady her breathing and gain some shred of composure.
In those moments, Lauryn’s chest began to fairly smolder with the ache of loving Brant. Her very breathing seemed to cause the excruciating pain to further intensify within her. The pain being caused from not being free to have him…his heart not being wholly free to have. He was perfect. Perfectly imperfect! Perfect, to her; for her. Every dream, every notion she’d ever had of the man she would lose her heart to, was embodied in Brant Masterson. It stung wickedly! For with Lauralynn still lost, the Captain so miserable without her…even despite the mystery that had brought Brant into her life…he seemed unattainable to her. A living, breathing dream never to be realized. And, it was insufferable to Lauryn at that moment. She wanted Brant for her own, immediately! She didn’t want to share him with Laura, with anyone anymore!
“Lauryn?” Brant spoke quietly as he approached from behind her. She released an audible and sorrowful moan of heartache. Always he followed her when she was upset. He never let her wallow in misery for long. “Are you all right?” he asked, placing a strong hand on her shoulder, urging her to turn and face him. She nodded silently, and tried not to sniffle too loudly. “What’s wrong?” Brant turned her to face him, holding her firmly by the shoulders and looked. Each time he bent toward her, Lauryn turned from him, embarrassed by her tears.
“Nothing,” she lied. “I just…”
Unexpectedly, Brant pulled Lauryn into his arms and against the warm strength of his body. She could not help but return his embrace and sob into the freshness of his shirt.
“I think I understand,” he whispered.
“You do?” she asked as fear washed over her. Did he really? Did he know she had fallen desperately in love with him?
As she tried to pull herself from his embrace, he held her tighter and whispered, “It was different when you were a child. Exciting, maybe. This needful ghost. But you’re an adult now. You want to live your own life. You don’t want to have to worry…have the guilt that you have over their unhappiness.” Lauryn was silent. He was assuming their waltz spurred a melancholy over the Captain and Laura. She said nothing. Let him assume it. It was far safer than if he’d guessed at the truth. He continued, “Then every time you’re at a party, or with loved ones…dancing, laughing and just living…the guilt sets in and spoils it. Believe me, I un
derstand. But it’s all right, you know. I…I think it’s only natural that we would want to leave it all behind and go forward. You don’t need to feel bad about it. I mean…I know you do. But it is all right. We’ve talked about this before.”
Lauryn remained silent. Brant, sweet, compassionate and yet unsuspecting man that he was, still thought she was simply longing for the mystery to be over so she could go on. In a way, that was true, just not for the reasons he thought. And Lauryn, was made all the more miserable because of the reality of her situation. If the mystery was solved, if was Lauralynn found, Brant would return to his home, far away and be gone from her life. Lauryn’s guilt was two-fold…guilt at not being able to help the Captain and Lauralynn, and guilt at not wanting to help the Captain and Lauralynn.
“I knew you were upset,” Brant said, setting his chin on the top of her head as he held her. “When I looked at you just now…in there…the color had drained from you completely.” He held her away from him and, using one strong hand tucked under her chin, tipped her face toward his. “I mean…for Pete’s sake, Lauryn. You looked like you’d seen a ghost.” With that he winked and grinned, amused with himself.
Lauryn smiled through her tears. It had been a witty remark, though Brant would never realize how completely true it had been.
“You’re very sweet,” she whispered looking up into his narrowed eyes.
“Am I?” he muttered and she noticed the way his gaze lingered on her mouth. No doubt her lips were red and slightly swollen from her crying. She noted the barely discernable twitching at the right corner of his smile. Was he withholding his laughter at her appearance or his own humorous remark? In any event, she pulled her face from his grasp and stepped back and out of his arms.
He took one of her hands in his and raised it to his lips kissing the back of it chivalrously.
“Don’t worry, Lauryn,” he said, his voice low and soothing like hot cocoa on a cold, rainy night. “We will find her.” She forced a comforted smile.
When Lauryn looked up at Brant once more, something in his eyes had changed. Again he kissed the back of her hand and again she noticed the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. Was it still only her imagination? Or had his lip twitched, ever so slightly, every time before he’d kissed her in the past?
“Will you stay until we find her?” she ventured. She had to ask him. She must know. She’d asked him before, and he’d always seemed to put her off or simply infer that he wouldn’t. She needed to know finally and assuredly one way or the other.
Brant sighed and smiled rather sadly at her. “I’ll stay as long as I can, Lauryn. And then…if we haven’t found her in a reasonable amount of time…I have to go home. But I’ll come back. And I’ll keep coming back until we do find her.”
“And…and after we find her?” Lauryn asked. It was a brave question and she tried to prepare herself for his answer.
“After we find her?” he repeated, seeming at a loss of understanding.
“Yes. After we find Laura. Then what will you…”
“Oh, there you are!” Georgia exclaimed as she walked quickly toward them. “Brant! You’re Uncle Johnny is havin’…well, your Auntie called it a ‘spell’ and she needs you right away.”
“Oh, no,” Brant mumbled. Quickly, he kissed the back of Lauryn’s hand once more. “It’ll all be fine,” he said firmly as he turned and hurried back into the house.
“Come along, Lauryn,” her mother ordered. “We’ll most certainly be callin’ it an early night. I thought the poor man had passed away right there before me! He’s as pale as a sheet and I’m sure he’s not all over it yet.”
As she followed her mother back into the McGovern’s house, Lauryn scolded herself, as was her habit. Once again her selfish, self-pity had been put to rest by the realization of truly desperate circumstances.
“You’ll put us on the train to home in the morning, Brant and that’s that!” Aunt Felicity stated.
Uncle Johnny was in a bad way, a condition he apparently slipped into now and again. Brant’s Aunt Felicity explained to Lauryn’s Nana and mother that the best thing to do was to get him back home to Vermont. Brant agreed. He announced that he and his Aunt and Uncle would be leaving first thing in the morning.
Aunt Felicity argued with him. She had been insisting for near to half an hour that Brant should stay and finish what he’d come to do. Lauryn’s guilt throbbed in her bosom—she hoped Brant would choose to stay at Connemara, though she knew he was too good a man to abandon his loved ones for his own purposes.
“Felicity,” Brant began to argue, his patience well past being spent.
“Aunt Felicity, young man!” Felicity snapped.
“Brant should go with you, Felicity,” Nana interrupted finally. “You’ll need assistance with John.”
“I’ll not have the boy ruining his fun just because…” Felicity argued.
“Fun?” Brant interrupted. “Auntie what are you talking about? We’ve got to get Uncle Johnny home and you can’t possibly do it alone! I wouldn’t let you even if you could. Besides…” he paused and looked at Lauryn with a frown. “I need to get back. There’s…some things to be done.” Lauryn felt an uncomfortable chill envelope her heart. He was leaving her.
“Brant…” Aunt Felicity began to argue again.
“No more, Auntie,” he growled. “We’ll leave on the first train out in the morning.” Then turning, and without even bidding anyone goodnight, he left the room and went up the stairs to retire.
“He’s leavin’,” Lauryn told the Captain quietly as he stood next to her bed. “It’s up to me again.”
“You’re very right to be upset that he’s leaving, Lauryn. Don’t try to make it sound like it’s just because he won’t be here to help you anymore.” The Captain was too wise. Lauryn looked to him with tears in her eyes.
“Are you completely disappointed in me?” she whispered. It seemed she’d done nothing that day but disappoint the men she cherished.
“For loving him?” the Captain asked. He chuckled. “How could you even think that I would begin to begrudge you that?” He frowned at her. “I am disappointed, however, that you don’t credit him more highly.”
“What do you mean?” Lauryn asked.
“You think he won’t come back.”
“What reason does he have to come back to Connemara, Captain? There’s nothin’ more he can do to help me…or so he thinks.”
“He’s not here to help you, you rotten runt of a girl.”
“Please, Captain. I…” She was interrupted by a knock on the door. This time Brant didn’t wait for her response and permission to enter her room. He simply opened the door and stepped in, securing the latch behind him.
“I’ve got to go back, Lauryn,” Brant stated. “I’ve missed something at home. I want to look through the Captain’s things again.”
“What?” she breathed.
“I want to look through that old trunk at home…the Captain’s belongings. There were things in the Captain’s letters to Laura. We understood some of them and others I don’t think we did. Like…the one mentioning old Mr. Jackson. It can’t simply be coincidence, Lauryn. And…and I think I need to look through his things. I don’t remember seeing letters…but maybe I’ve just forgotten. I was pretty young when I went through it…and I didn’t do a very thorough job. If there are letters…it’s like a puzzle in my brain that I can’t quite fit together.”
“You’ll let me know what you find?” she ventured.
He smiled encouragingly and assured her, “Of course.” He stood towering above her. “I’ll be back, you know.” Lauryn’s heart leaped slightly. She wanted to believe him.
“I’m sure you will,” she whispered, holding back her tears.
His eyes narrowed. “You don’t believe me.”
“I…I…of course I do,” she stammered.
Brant sighed, shaking his head. “You need some sleep, sugar.”
He knelt down by her bed and taking of her small hands in his. “What’s the matter?” he asked. “What’s wrong? And why won’t you tell me?” Should she confess? Tell him the truth? She settled for a part of the truth. It was all she could risk.
“I…I don’t want you to leave,” she sniffled.
He half smiled, half frowned. “I will come back, Lauryn.”
Lauryn nodded and tried to believe him. “I know you will. I know.”
The corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he looked at her, but he stood up. “Get some sleep now. You’re tired.”
“Good night,” she said as he left.
“Good night, sugar,” he responded before he left her room, closing the door behind him.
Brant had barely escaped her trap, he knew. As he ran his fingers through his hair and stripped his clothes off, he realized how close he’d come to faltering. He definitely had to quit going to her room at night. She was too soft, vulnerable and willing to be in his arms at such hours and in such warm privacy.
It was good that he was taking his Aunt and Uncle home. He worried that he might take to ravishing Lauryn at any turn if he didn’t get away for a while. Yet he did not want to leave her with the loneliness of searching on her own. No. It wasn’t even that. He simply did not want to leave her.
As he climbed into the small bed of the guest room, he wondered if he, in fact, would actually be able to leave her when the time came.
Chapter Fifteen
As Lauryn watched Brant help Aunt Felicity board the train, her heart seemed to physically ache at the thought of their leaving. No. At the thought of his leaving! She wanted to reach out and throw her arms around him, beg him not to go, beg him to take her with him. To never leave her side again! How could it all have come to this so quickly? she thought.
It seemed like only hours ago that she was on her way home from New Orleans with Nana—home to be with the rest of her family and the Captain. Nothing to that point had been more important to her than her family and helping the Captain. But now, if she could have Brant, if he would love her, want to spend his life with her, want to spend eternity with her, the wicked part in her heart, however small, would abandon the Captain and Lauralynn for the sake of belonging to Brant. Yet, there would be no peace in her soul if she did that. But, she would do it. She would! If it meant Brant would be hers.
The Fragrance of Her Name Page 27