She wrapped her arms around him so that he couldn’t see the marks and looked him directly in the eye. “Forget about him. He’s part of the past.”
“I’m not sure it will be that easy.”
“No,” she agreed. “But if I can do it, so can you.”
“My past and yours are not the same,” he said.
She was quiet then, not asking any questions. He couldn’t even see the first question in her eyes, but he knew this was a time for an explanation, if not answers. He had none of those, for he had never been able to find good answers to his own questions about Eloise and whether there had been anything he might have done to save her.
“You want to know about Eloise,” he said.
She turned her eyes from him too quickly as she said, “No. Whoever she was, she’s not important.” She twisted away from him and started to get up. “I should go down and help Beck hand out the papers to the boys.”
“The boys have already come and gone.” Blake pulled her back down beside him.
She didn’t fight against him, but she did jerk the light cover over her up to her chin as if she had become uncomfortably aware of her lack of clothes. He helped her smooth out the corners and covered himself as well, even though he regretted the passing of the easy intimacy between them before he said, “Eloise has nothing to do with us.”
Adriane silently stared down at the cover, and although Blake wanted to tip her chin up until he could see into her eyes, instead he talked to the top of her head. “But I was wrong not to answer your question yesterday, even though it is true I don’t like to talk about Eloise.”
“Then don’t. I’d rather you didn’t.” Her grip on the cover tightened.
He had the feeling she was afraid of whatever he might tell her about Eloise. There was no changing what had just happened between them. He could understand how she didn’t want to hear something that would prove she’d made a mistake in giving herself to him so completely. He made himself begin talking, unsure of what she’d think after she knew about Eloise.
“I don’t know what Stanley told you about Eloise.” His muscles tensed as he said the man’s name, and he had to take a deep breath and force himself to relax before he went on. “It doesn’t matter. No one knows the truth about Eloise. Not even me, but I’ll tell you what I do know. Then you’ll have to decide who to believe.”
She finally raised her eyes to his. “That decision has already been made.”
“Some decisions have to be made over and over.” He pulled his eyes away from hers and stared up at a dark brown watermark on the ceiling. “That’s sort of the way it was with Eloise. I met her just after the Mexican War was over.”
“Were you in the war?”
“Not as a soldier, but I did carry stories from the battlefields to the papers in the East. We didn’t have the wire then and all the papers were in a race to be the first to get news of the big battles for their headlines. I was good at getting the stories through.”
“I can imagine,” she said a little dryly.
He glanced at her, but then fastened his eyes back on the blob that was beginning to take on the shape of a horse’s head. “At any rate, I came back to New York after the war and started covering the police beat and going to the odd social when Harper, the editor, twisted my arm. Nobody printed much of that kind of news then, but Harper’s wife liked seeing her name in print. So he would give the parties she went to little write-ups and stick them in when he needed a filler. It wasn’t long till all the ladies were clamoring for ink for their own gatherings.”
“So you had to go to more socials,” Adriane prompted when Blake stopped to catch his breath.
“Harper made it part of my job. And that’s how I met Eloise. After all the misery I’d seen in the war, Eloise was like the first spring flower at the end of a long winter.”
“Was she really pretty?” Adriane asked, her grasp on the cover tighter than ever.
“Pretty fit her.” He looked at Adriane. “Not beautiful like you.”
Adriane’s cheeks reddened, but her grip on the cover loosened.
For a second he wanted to stop the story and peel the cover away, but he forced himself to look at the dark smudge on the ceiling again and continue. “She took a fancy to me even though I wasn’t in her social circle. Who knows why? Anyway we became engaged. Secretly. She said she needed time to decide how best to tell her father about us, and I didn’t try to rush her since her father owned the paper where I worked. I wasn’t so dumb that I didn’t realize the whole thing might backfire on me. But I didn’t court her only to get a toehold on the paper the way people said when they found out.”
“You wanted a paper,” Adriane said.
“Oh yes,” Blake agreed without looking at her. “And I had no doubt I’d have one someday, but not like that. I wanted to earn it on my own.” He stopped talking again.
After a minute she asked, “What happened?”
“The expected. Vandemere found out about our secret engagement and put a stop to all Eloise’s silly games and my chivalrous romantic ideas.” Blake shifted uneasily as though something in the bedding had suddenly jabbed him. He had been so young and foolish then.
“Did you love her?”
“I thought I did at the time, but then after her father made her marry a man he considered much more suitable, I discovered that although my pride was sorely wounded, my heart survived intact. I never even noticed a crack.”
“You sound heartless,” she said, but she sounded relieved.
“You may think that’s even truer when you hear the rest of it.”
“There’s more?” she asked, her relief replaced with a hint of worry.
“A great deal more.” He was silent for a moment before he made himself continue. “The man her father chose for her, Lyle Davidson, was years older than Eloise, but he was wealthy and had the proper social standing. Unfortunately for Eloise, he was also insanely jealous. If she so much as smiled at another man at a dinner party, he’d go into a rage. Eloise would have to disappear from the social scene for weeks at a time while the bruises healed. It was like taking the sunlight away from a butterfly.”
“Didn’t her family know?”
“Her father knew.” Bitterness rose up in Blake even after so many years. He might not have loved Eloise, but he hadn’t wanted her hurt. “But Vandemere was campaigning to be elected mayor and he was running scared from any hint of scandal that one of the opposing newspapers might dig up. And it could be he did try to help her privately. I can’t say. All I know for sure is that she started finding ways to send me notes begging for my help.”
Blake paused, remembering his dismay when one of Eloise’s friends slipped him that first note. He’d heard the rumors about her marriage, but he hadn’t expected her to involve him. He hadn’t wanted to be involved.
“I suppose she thought I still loved her. And in her desperation, she imagined I was more courageous than I was.”
“What did she expect you to do?” Adriane asked.
She was so intent on his story that she half sat up, letting the forgotten cover slip to her waist. He made himself turn his eyes away from her and keep his mind on Eloise. A sort of sick shame filled him as it did every time he thought about how he had failed Eloise, and now he wanted to get up and leave the room while there was still hope Adriane wouldn’t hold him at fault. But in spite of his reluctance to tell the whole story, he kept pushing out the words.
“I’m not sure. She hinted at a duel once, but I wasn’t that chivalrous or foolish. I had never actually met Davidson, but I’d heard of his ability as a marksman. I sent notes back to her encouraging her to ask her father for help. I even sent one of her notes to me on to him.”
The blob on the ceiling suddenly took on the shape of a man’s face under a hat. “A couple of days after that, Harper called me into his office to say that though he hated it, he’d have to let me go. Then I received a polite letter from Vandemere strongly suggesting th
at if I would leave Eloise alone, he was sure she and her husband could work out any difficulties they might be experiencing. Somehow I became the villain of the piece.”
Adriane slipped her hand over his. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Blake’s heart skipped a beat at her touch, but he wouldn’t allow himself to look at her. He just kept staring at the dark shape of a man’s face as he continued. “It gets worse. In Eloise’s next note, she begged me to run away with her. She said she realized her love for me was worth any sacrifice, and she was prepared to go to California or anywhere as long as we were together.”
Blake closed his eyes a moment and saw the fancy scroll of Eloise’s handwriting. It was so like her. All flourish and no depth. After a moment he went on. “She had never even imagined that I might not love her anymore.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing. She told me she’d meet me at a secluded cliff side not far from their summer home and we could plan our escape. I didn’t go.” Blake paused a moment before he pushed out the last words. “The next thing I heard, she was dead.”
“What happened?” Adriane asked.
“She fell off the cliff where we were supposed to meet. At least that’s what they told. When they discovered her packed case and a servant came forward to say he had carried messages to me, the police came round to have a word with me, but I’d just been hired by another paper and had spent the day with my new editor. There wasn’t much investigation after that, although rumors of all sorts made the rounds. They held a coroner’s inquest, but it was just a formality. Vandemere saw that it was declared an accident.”
“And was it an accident?” Adriane asked.
“I don’t think Lyle Davidson pushed her, if that’s what you mean, but no, I don’t think it was an accident. I think Eloise made the only escape she could, since no one would rescue her.”
She raised up then and leaned over him until he had to look in her eyes. “And is that why you married me? To rescue me.”
He met her eyes. “I told you, Adriane. I married you because I love you. No other reason.”
“But you have rescued me.” Adriane touched his lips softly with her own. “And for that I’m grateful.”
Blake quelled the passion that made him want to grab her and leave all words behind. “You may not think I have pulled off much of a rescue when Coleman Jimson sets us out on the street later today.”
She surprised him by smiling a little. “We’ll be on the street together.” Her smile grew wider. “With Beck and Duff, of course.”
“And Joe,” Blake said with an answering smile.
A blush warmed her cheeks as she took a quick glance at the sun streaming through the window and then at the door. “Whatever will they think of us still in bed with the sun full up.”
His smile became a soft laugh. “I’m thinking they will guess the truth.”
“And what truth is that?”
He pulled her down on top of his chest and whispered into her soft hair. “That if there is never another day, this day will be enough.”
29
Adriane surrendered herself to his touch again and rejoiced that her body responded so naturally to his. After their passion was once again spent, she laid her head on Blake’s chest. Everything was forgotten except his fingers in her hair and the sound of his heart slowing its mad racing.
The soft knock on her door surprised her, as if she’d forgotten there was anyone else in the world besides them. “Addie,” Beck called. “Addie, you awake?”
Adriane stiffened and started to jerk away from Blake, but he smiled and held her closer while he whispered in her ear, “We’re married, Adriane. Married people sleep together.”
“Surely not all day,” she whispered back, her face burning hot.
“If they want,” he said with a lazy smile.
But he let her sit up and pull on her wrapper before she answered Beck. “What is it, Beck?”
“I was just some worried about you, seeing as how the morning’s half spent. And then there’s the paper, and ain’t none of us seen hide nor hair of Blake all morning. Joe figures he must have gone down to the riverfront to try to dig up some news about the murders.”
Blake looked at Adriane with a smile and raised eyebrows as he waited for her to answer Beck. Adriane stood up and smoothed her hands over her cheeks as if she could rub away the hot color flooding them. “No, he’s here with me,” she said.
There was a silence on the other side of the door then, and Adriane imagined Beck’s cheeks might be turning red to match her own before he said, “Then I reckon I’m double sorry to be bothering the two of you, but you know I ain’t never been no hand at writing out stories, and if we’re gonna get another issue of the Tribune-Herald on the street before Jimson throws us out, we’d best be at it.” Beck’s voice changed a bit. “He sent a note around a bit ago.”
Blake got out of bed, pulled on his pants, and in two steps was across the room to pull open the door. “What did he say?” he asked Beck.
Beck didn’t answer right away as he looked between them without the least sign of embarrassment and grinned so big that his eyes were nearly lost in the explosion of wrinkles. When he did finally say something, it had nothing to do with Coleman Jimson. “I’m feeling like somebody’s give me a Christmas gift seeing the two of you like this.”
Adriane pulled her wrap tighter, very conscious of her lack of clothes under it. “Oh hush, Beck, and stop looking like you just scooped the headlines for a week. It’s not as if we’ve been doing anything uncommon.”
“Now that’s a fact, Addie, but all things considered, I figured as how it’d take the two of you a heap longer to get around to it.”
“Adriane and I haven’t been considering much of anything except ourselves this morning, but I suppose it’s time to be getting down to business again.” Blake’s smile disappeared. “What did Jimson’s note say?”
Beck turned serious as well. “He’s coming around to meet with Addie at three. I figured if we hurried, we could have tomorrow’s paper most done by then.”
“And Duff, where is he?” Blake asked as he pulled on his shirt.
“He took his papers out, but he’s back now. I told him the press had been running a tad rough and he’s taking a look at it. The boy’s got a knack for the machinery, but some problems are hard to put your finger on. I figure to keep him busy with it most of the day.”
Blake paused in tucking in his shirt and looked up at Beck. “Good. I’d just as soon he wasn’t on the streets today.”
Adriane felt the flush draining away from her cheeks as suddenly all their problems pushed back into the room to surround her. “We could print a retraction. Say we were misinformed and there is no witness.”
Blake turned to her and laid his hand softly on her cheek. “Beck and I won’t let anything happen to Duff, Adriane.”
“That’s right, Addie. Don’t you worry none about it. You just stay here and rest up.” Again Beck grinned.
Adriane was opening her mouth to say she was quite rested enough when without looking up from pulling on his shoes, Blake said, “She’ll have to rest tonight. We need her to get out the paper now.”
“I reckon you’re right as rain about that.” Then with another grin and a wink at Adriane, Beck backed out of the room shutting the door behind him.
Blake turned to look at her. Slowly he reached out and ran his hand softly along her cheek. “I’m not sure I care whether we put out another issue or not,” he said as he reached for the tie to her wrapper.
Adriane pushed his hand away. “We’ve been quite scandalous enough already. I daresay I won’t be able to look at Beck without blushing for days as it is.”
Blake laughed and grabbed her close before she could step away from him. It only took the touch of his lips on hers to make her abandon all resistance, but even as the fire of passion rose inside her, he pulled back and smiled down at her.
“Till tonight, my darling.�
� He kissed her one more time before he turned her loose and yanked open the door. “Don’t be long,” he said. “We’ve a paper to get out.”
After he shut the door behind him and his footsteps clattered down the stairs, Adriane sat down on the edge of the bed and put her head in her hands. She wavered between wanting to say a prayer of thanks for Blake to thinking she should ask forgiveness for her wantonness. Surely it was indecent for her to have felt such happiness with Blake so soon after her father’s death.
It was all too confusing. Too much had happened too fast. Some part of her found it impossible to believe her father was gone forever. Scraps of arguments kept coming to mind to make him change his mind about Blake. Arguments she’d never get to use, but somehow she needed to believe that with time she could have convinced him.
With a deep breath, Adriane sat up straight, forcing herself to face the truth. Her father had run out of time. There would be no convincing him. The best she could do for him now was to save the Tribune, and time was running out for that as well.
Adriane stood up and poured water from the pitcher into the washbowl on her dresser. She needed to be ready when Coleman Jimson came.
She stared at her image in the mirror. She felt stronger than she had in months. No longer was she being carried along in a flood of what other people wanted for her into a life she wouldn’t be able to bear. She was Adriane Garrett now, and Blake loved her the way she was.
For a second Henrietta’s dour words of warning came back to make her uneasy. “We’re all Eves. Every one of us no more than nine months from suffering and death.” And now Adriane had been with a man. Even now she could be beginning that nine-month journey. And the light shineth in the darkness. That was what she had to think on. The light shining in the darkness. The Lord had helped her bear the darkness of Henrietta’s closet until her father could rescue her.
Now her father was gone, but the Lord hadn’t left her in darkness. He’d sent Blake to her. Together they could be strong enough to face anything. Together. Side by side. She didn’t have to worry about Blake trying to shove her into a small dark closet of conformity.
Words Spoken True: A Novel Page 29