Lily brushed away Ambrosia’s compliment with a brief wave of her hand. “I’m not in my dotage yet, my dear... though I did get my share of attention when I was your age...” Her smile faded as she spoke the words and her eyes drifted away to fix on the passing landscape. Her gaze was distant, sad, a haunting mixture of regret and longing that touched something in Ambrosia’s heart. All thoughts of Matt Desmond and the party and even of Drayton suddenly disappeared from her mind as she realized what Lily was thinking, what she must be remembering. “Is he still alive?” Ambrosia asked softly.
Lily started, her eyes wary as they met Ambrosia’s. “Who? Is who alive?”
Ambrosia’s gaze was even. “The man you were in love with before you met your husband.”
“And for a long time after I met my husband,” Lily added with a slightly cynical smile. “Yes, he’s still very much alive.” She held Ambrosia’s eyes for a moment, wondering at the girl’s perception, wondering just how honest she dared to be. “I am still in love with him, Ambrosia,” she admitted reluctantly. She had never admitted that to anyone before. It was something that still hurt so very deeply, even after so many years of living with the pain. And yet somehow she knew that Ambrosia would not sit in judgment of her for her feelings, that she would understand. And she needed someone to understand, to listen, after such a long and lonely period of silence. “I will always be in love with him, I think. Though I learned to see my love for him for what it is: childish, foolish, a damnably enduring part of growing up.” She looked away. “He never once came to visit me after my illness. It still hurts me so much to remember that. Even while I thank God for it. If he had not abandoned me then, I would never have turned to Henry.”
She met Ambrosia’s eyes again, her blue ones bright with tears. “And I did come to love Henry so very, very deeply. A selfish love at first, I think. You see, even with my horrid, crippled body Henry made me feel beautiful.” Her voice rose painfully as she mouthed the words. How important that had been to her then! How important it was to any woman, but particularly to one who had taken her beauty for granted. She drew a deep breath and forced a small smile. “It is a rare and precious thing, to be loved so unselfishly. It is a blessing that so many people are blind to...as I was blind.’’ And I, Ambrosia thought silently.
Lily sighed and forced another smile. “I do not think of my first love very much anymore. My heart does not ache for him one-tenth as much as for Henry. But sometimes, particularly when I go to town and see a beautiful young woman commanding so much masculine attention, I remember when I was young and lovely, and quite naturally, I think of him.’’ She hesitated, thoughtfully fingering the soft fur lining of her muff. ‘’And you, Ambrosia?” she ventured on instinct. ‘’What of your former lover?”
Ambrosia’s breath caught in her throat. “I-I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t you?”
Ambrosia stared at her hands, unable to answer at first. “I-I never... never...”
“You were never actually intimate with the man,” Lily supplied. “Is that what you are trying to say?”
Ambrosia gave a small nod, still unable to meet Lily’s eyes. Lily felt relieved. At times the memories of passion, romanticized by time and distance, were the most difficult of all memories to cope with. “But you were in love with someone?’’ It was more a statement than a question. “Was he killed in the war?”
It seemed a long time before she shook her head. ‘’Perhaps...perhaps a part of him was,” she whispered. Her eyes were still fixed on her tightly laced fingers, but they lifted slowly, hesitantly, and Lily saw them fill with tears. “He-he lost a leg, and his face...his face was...’’ Her voice broke and she turned away, struggling in vain to hold back the tears.
‘’Ambrosia, come here.’’ In a moment, Ambrosia was on the seat beside Lily, and she gathered the younger woman into her arms. No wonder she had been filled with such hatred, such bitterness! ‘’Ambrosia, I am so sorry,” Lily comforted her, feeling very close to giving into tears of her own. She gently stroked the girl’s hair. ‘’How difficult that must have been for you...for both of you.”
“He was so brave...so handsome before the war,” she said brokenly. ‘’And then... then the war was over. And we had lost everything. My father was dead. And Ledger was...” She closed her eyes, the hot tears flowing quickly down her cheeks. ‘’He didn’t even want to live anymore.”
“And so he refused to marry you.”
She felt Ambrosia tense, then reluctantly shake her head. “He-he was already married,” she admitted softly, “to my sister.”
Lily’s frail arms tightened protectively about her once again, and her blue eyes were warm and understanding. The pieces of the puzzle were all beginning to fall into place now. Ambrosia had loved a man who was not free. “He never really loved me in return,” Ambrosia said after a time. She tried very hard to smile, but her eyes could not carry it off. “He always thought of me as a foolish child, even after he came home.”
Lily sighed as she brushed the tears tenderly from Ambrosia’s cheeks. “Well...” she said with a smile, “you certainly aren’t a child anymore.”
Ambrosia met her eyes and nodded. It still hurt to remember that Ledger had never loved her as a man loves a woman, that his life had gone on after she left him. But sharing all of her feelings with Lily had somehow put a great many unresolved emotions to rest. Another woman, a fine, loving woman, had felt the same things. Knowing that made Ambrosia feel stronger.
How very strange, she thought, to find strength in admitting to past weaknesses. Weakness was something her father had never admitted to, something she would never have admitted to just a year before. She had been too afraid then to look inside herself, to find out who and what she really was. She was only beginning to find the courage to do that now.
And a part of her was still very much afraid of what she felt for Drayton. She could not confront him yet, could not risk asking his forgiveness and being refused. Perhaps because, as Lily had said, she had not yet forgiven herself. She let her eyes fix on the window and let out a lengthy sigh. No. She couldn’t bear the thought of a confrontation, couldn’t consider intruding on Drayton’s life now. And she couldn’t possibly attend the party, even if it meant that everyone would know she was a coward.
Chapter 43
The April sun shone bright and golden in a cloudless blue sky, and a light breeze stirred the mild, fragrant air. Carolyn Craig stood before her mirror in a pretty yellow print dress, twirling a lacy parasol and scowling at her reflection. The past two months had been depressing ones for her. She had tried so very hard and made so very little progress in her pursuit of Drayton Rambert. She saw him regularly at parties and dinners, where he was always polite to her and willing to accommodate her requests to dance every now and again. But he was never any more than polite or accommodating, and he always seemed more interested in discussing politics or business or the economy with the men than in paying particular attention to her. That first night, when he’d apologized to her, she’d been so certain they would resume their affair, that he might even consider divorcing his wife in time. But any overtures she’d made in that direction had been met with evasive excuses. He was too busy to take her to luncheon or dinner or the theater, and at the mere suggestion of a more private rendezvous he would remind her that he was a married man, or more tactfully that he did not want to risk compromising her reputation.
In the past month Carolyn had spent a fortune on a new, enticing wardrobe, had her hair arranged in a dozen different ways; and even tried flirting with other men. Nothing had worked. But today would be different, she told herself as she stood before the mirror. Today she intended to seek out the lion in his den, to go to his place of business where he spent so much of his time. Too much, in her opinion. She adjusted the already daring neckline of her gown to expose all but the very tips of her breasts and cocked her head to smi
le at her reflection. Drayton Rambert needed a woman. She was certain of that. He had that look about him, that cool, watchful look of a hungry cat on the prowl, regardless of what he said. And she intended to fill his needs before anyone else did.
Carolyn had her liveryman stop before the Fulton Street warehouse and help her alight. “Shall I accompany you, Mrs. Craig?” he inquired, looking askance at the building she seemed intent on entering.
“No, just wait here.”
She swept her skirt to the side and entered the building, wrinkling her nose at the strong smells of oils and pigments and thinners. She saw no one at first but heard voices from the loading dock on the far side of the building and immediately proceeded in that direction. As she approached, a dozen workmen turned their heads to stare.
A burly young man in stained work clothes scowled as he noticed that all work had suddenly ceased. He quickly stepped toward her, but before he could demand an explanation, she gave him a syrupy smile. “I’m here to see Mr. Rambert. Could you direct me to him, please?”
The workman slowly narrowed his eyes in appraisal. There was no doubt that this woman was dressed-or rather, half-undressed-with one particular purpose in mind. “You his wife?”
Color shot through Carolyn’s cheeks. “Why, no... I’m not,” she stammered. “But I-I have a message for him,” she lied, recovering quickly. So his wife had never visited him here...
“Oh, you do, do you?” the workman said doubtfully.
“From my uncle,” she went on, her manner becoming condescending when the man did not respond to her charm.
“Well, I’m Tim MacGregor, the warehouse foreman. If you’ve got a message for Mr. Rambert, you’re gonna have to give it to me.’’
“That’s quite impossible, Mr. MacGregor,” she sniffed arrogantly, unconsciously primping at her shiny brown curls. “It’s a-a personal message. And I’m obliged to deliver it personally. So if Dray-if Mr. Rambert isn’t here, then I suppose I’ll just have to wait for him.”
Tim eyed her distastefully, a deep scowl blackening his brow. If she stayed here much longer, there wouldn’t be a single order filled correctly, since the workmen couldn’t take their eyes off a half-naked woman parading in front of them. ‘’You can find Mr. Rambert in his office,’’ he told her tersely after letting out a sigh of irritation. ‘’That way. Up the short flight of steps.’’ He waved an arm in the direction from which she had come and abruptly turned his back on her. “All right, boys. The wench is leavin’ now, so you can all get back to work.” Carolyn stiffened visibly and her eyes shot murderous sparks at the man’s back. The nerve of him! She whirled on a heel, crossed the warehouse, and glided up the steps, her nose high in the air, her skirts lifted carefully to one side to keep them from touching the floor.
Seated behind his desk, Drayton flipped through the stack of last month’s orders and made a quick talley. He tossed the pen aside and heaved a lengthy sigh, running his fingers over his tense brow. His figures only confirmed what he had already known. With the factories operating at a fraction of their capacity, the cost per unit of paint produced was rising. But hiring more workers to step up production and efficiency was out of the question for now. It was simply too expensive to consider, since sales were not growing at a rate to justify the production.
There was no chance of breaking even this year, much less making a profit, unless Ken Galbraith took on Rambert Caniage Paints for national distribution. Drayton was certain that the arrangement would be a profitable one for both Galbraith and himself. But without it, it would take years to build enough demand to put the factories at full production. And with fixed costs driving the prices ever upward, Rambert Paints might not last long enough to see that happen. It was the first time Drayton had ever admitted the possibility of failure. It was not something he could afford to dwell on now. He lifted his pen again and systematically began a list of necessary supplies when there was a rap on the door. ‘’Come in, Matt.”
Carolyn recognized the voice at once, and a catlike smile curved her mouth. She entered the inner office and closed the door behind herself. He sat at his desk, working intently on a list of some sort, his coarse white shirt opened in a revealing V almost to his waist, his sleeves rolled above his elbows.
“I’ll be finished here in just a moment,” he said without raising his eyes. “Have a seat.”
Carolyn grinned impishly as she approached the desk. “It’s not Matt.”
Drayton’s eyes lifted instantly at the sound of her voice, his expression registering surprise, then annoyance. He took in her expensive, low-cut gown; matching slippers; and parasol. “So I see.”
“You don’t sound very pleased,” she pouted, setting her parasol aside and leaning forward so that her palms rested on the surface of his desk.
He pulled his eyes away from her all but exposed breasts and stood, tossing his pen on the desk. “What do you want, Carolyn?”
She straightened and smiled slowly. Her eyes strayed to his opened shirt, then moved to the dark trousers that clung to the muscles of his hips and thighs. He knew exactly what she wanted. And from the way he had looked at her in that single moment when she’d caught him off guard, she knew he wanted it too. Her smile widened. “I wanted to see where you worked,’’ she answered with a playful shrug. She swept her gown to one side and rounded the desk. When she was less than an arm’s breadth away from him, she perched a single hip on that desk. “I wanted to see where you spend all your time,” she went on. Her voice softened as she let a single gloved finger play through the crisp mat of hair at his chest. “I wanted to see what keeps you so busy that you haven’t any time for me.’’
He caught her hand and held it, his expression hard. “Carolyn, I’ve told you before-”
“I know, I know. You’re a married man,” she broke in before he could voice the excuse.
He released her hand and vented a sigh. “That’s part of it.”
‘’And what’s the rest of it, Drayton?’’ she inquired innocently, her fingers raking lightly over his chest once more. “And don’t say you’re protecting my reputation. We could be discreet about things...the way we were in Charleston.”
“I am the father of a child, Carolyn. I won’t expose my daughter to scandal. Mandy means everything to me.”
His words were deliberate, his eyes cold. They cut through her like a knife. If only he had gotten her with child in Charleston, he would have married her, Carolyn was certain of it. If only she had thought to trap him that way before that snippy little Confederate got her hands on him. What a fool she had been to let him slip through her fingers! But it couldn’t be too late; it just couldn’t be! “I could give you children, Drayton,” she offered softly, her voice catching slightly. “I would gladly give you a daughter...or a son...” Her hand caressed his cheek and she saw his eyes softening. She moved closer quickly, until her breasts made contact with the firm hardness of his chest. She heard him draw a sharp breath and saw his eyes begin to smolder, as he finally made a move to take what she had offered so many times. His mouth lowered to meet hers....
“Good morning, Drayton...Mrs. Craig...”
They had not even shared a kiss when the greeting made them spring apart. Both pairs of eyes flew to Matt Desmond’s face and watched as his tipped his silk hat in salute. “I do hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he said solicitously.
Drayton’s loose hold on Carolyn ended so abruptly that she nearly toppled backward on the desk. “No. I was expecting you, Matt,” he responded evenly, facing Matt’s amused grin with something less than amusement. “And Carolyn was just leaving.”
“Oh, I’m not in any great hurry.” Carolyn smiled. She wasn’t about to leave so easily as that, in spite of Drayton’s obvious displeasure at her announcement. “I don’t mind waiting until you two finish your little business meeting.” She fluttered her lashes as she retrieved her parasol and too
k a seat in the far comer of the room. Her smile was coy as she toyed with her parasol and pre tended not to listen to what was being said.
‘’Speaking of meetings,’’ Matt began with a twinkle in his eye, “you’ll never guess whom I saw at Tiffany’s day before yesterday. Your Aunt Lily Collinsworth,” Matt went on without waiting for an answer. “It’s been years since I’ve seen her, but she hasn’t changed. Fortunately for me, she arrived just in time to help me choose Leanne’s anniversary gift. We’ll be married ten years next week, you know. You’ve promised to come to the party at her parents’ house.”
“Yes, I know,” Drayton returned impatiently, anxious to get down to more serious matters. If this was what Matt had wanted to see him about...
“I invited Lily to the party and she accepted,” Matt continued before he could say a word. “And of course...” He paused to offer Drayton a cigar and to bite off the end of one for himself. Drayton frowned as he accepted the cigar, knowing now that Matt was up to something. “I extended the invitation to the lovely little thing Lily had brought along shopping with her.’’ He lit his cigar and expelled his first draw in a lengthy sigh. “She was lovely as a breath of spring, Drayton. And I believe Lily introduced her as your wife.”
The moment he uttered the words, Carolyn dropped her parasol and her syrupy smile froze on her face. Though Matt’s back was facing toward her, he had no trouble gauging her reaction. “She’s looking quite well, Drayton. Seems to have recovered completely from her illness.”
The two men eyed each other for a long moment. Then suddenly Drayton rose from his chair and rounded his desk. ‘’I’ll walk you to your carriage, Carolyn.”
It was nothing less than an order, and she complied, though she wasn’t happy about the circumstances. His stride was determined as he led her from the office, and his touch was cool, indifferent, as his fingers encircled her arm.
Ambrosia Page 43