Place of Peace

by Debra Diaz

  “That isn’t necessary. You have no need for my money, so why should I think such a thing?”

  “Money is money. All right, we’ll do this. We’ll go into town right now and buy the rings and make the arrangements. I’ll telegraph your father, and also a preacher — a friend of my father’s who lives in Clarksville, and we can spend the night there. Mr. Romayne will probably arrive in a day or two.

  “Yes.” She tried to sound confident. “That sounds fine.”

  “Come here, Genny.”

  She pushed back her chair and advanced slowly toward him. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked down into her eyes with a deep plumbing gaze that seemed to penetrate to the marrow of her bones.

  “Are you sure you want to marry me? I told you my intentions about your father because I didn’t want you to feel betrayed when I did what I had to do. I’m not trying to force you. If you don’t want to marry me, perhaps I can influence your father to let you stay in Nashville — not here, of course, but there are other places.”

  “But, but I do want to marry you.”

  “There is more to marriage than living together. I do want children, you know.”

  She managed not to gulp, and nodded.

  He waited a moment, then bent and kissed her cheek. “Let’s go, then. We’ll stop at Geoff’s office and tell him, and he can tell Valerie when she gets home.”

  As they left the office, Genny thought, with intuitive certainty, that Valerie would not be pleased.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Genny found herself looking at Ethan as if she’d never seen him before. He was dressed in a charcoal gray coat and trousers, with a dazzling white shirt and pearl gray waistcoat. His striking appearance apparently sent the pastor’s adult daughter into palpitations; she dropped the inkstand she had fetched for her father, spilling ink on the floor and the bottom of her skirt, and then stood trembling and gawking at Ethan through the entire ceremony.

  Genny wore a gown of peach organdy, the closest thing she had to white except for the gown she’d worn to the Grayson’s, and she would never wear that again. Ethan’s stare of admiration as she stood against the light from the floor-length window was enough to set her own heart aflutter.

  They had traveled by coach to Clarksville, some forty-five miles northwest of Nashville, to the home of Reverend Samuel Wood and his wife and daughter, who served as witnesses. It was a short ceremony, but strangely moving to Genny as she and Ethan promised to love, honor and cherish each other, “until death do us part.”

  Did he really mean it? — and then she wondered, Do I?

  With the pastor and his wife waving cheerfully (and his daughter wistfully) from the porch, they drove a short distance to a luxurious hotel that sat on a bluff overlooking the Cumberland River. Night had fallen by the time they arrived. They had a light supper in the hotel’s restaurant and went to their room.

  A pleasantly furnished sitting room met Genny’s eyes. She saw their bags on the floor, then her eyes wandered on to the enormous bedroom and fell upon the great canopied bed. Her knees went weak.

  Ethan seemed to repress a smile as he lifted her bag and carried it into the bedroom. “Why don’t you go ahead?” he said courteously. “I’ll just smoke my pipe for a few minutes.”

  The door closed between them. Without thinking anything at all Genny took off her dress, put on her best cambric nightgown, and sat down at the dressing table. She began to brush her hair. Her hands shook so that she dropped the brush with a clatter. She began to pace nervously across the floor. A noise from the other room made her fly back to the dressing table, where she resumed brushing her hair with a zeal that made her scalp hurt. There was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” she said, in such a low voice that she had to repeat herself.

  The door swung open and Ethan stood there, gazing at her wordlessly. He had taken off his coat and the dim lamplight cast his features into sharp relief. She sat still, paralyzed, and yet under a strange sort of fascination.

  He took the brush out of her hand, and drew her to her feet and into his arms. “Trust me, Genny. I’m going to show you what love really means and I promise you, you will forget everything that’s gone before…”

  * * * *

  Genny glanced at her husband, who sat next to the window of the fast-moving coach, his profile and shoulders blocking out the light as the countryside rolled past them. He was looking out at the distant pasture and woods, and she felt that he had retreated into some other world.

  He’s remembering the war, she thought, and reached out to touch his hand. Instantly he turned and looked at her; his face cleared and he smiled. She marveled at how well she had come to know him in the past two days. When he smiled at her as he did now, she felt as if she were the most important person in the world — to him.

  She’d always known that men found her attractive, but no one had ever made her feel beautiful inside as well. No one, until the night she had just spent with Ethan. True, he hadn’t said in so many words that he loved her, but she was sure he did. It had been almost surreal, like an exquisite dream that she wanted never to end. For the first time in her life a feeling of security, and belonging, took up residence within her. She had never known, or even suspected, that marriage could bind two people so closely together that they really were as one. Far from being like a prison, the marriage bond was strangely liberating!

  Genny smiled at herself. She was being sentimental. Of course there would be disagreements, there would be quarrels. But she had grown up a lot in the last two days. She had discovered a whole new dimension to life!

  They’d been home only a few hours when Philbert Romayne arrived, grave and unsmiling, though there was an unmistakable air of relief about him. He embraced Genny, shook hands with Ethan, and retired with them into the study.

  “Your mother and I have been very worried,” Philbert told her, his drawn features and shadowed eyes attesting to the truth of his words.

  “I’m sorry, Father.” Genny appeared to be truly penitent.

  “I fail to see why you didn’t write us. I don’t understand what happened. You said in your note that you were eloping with a man we didn’t know. Where is he?”

  “Father, I didn’t get married at all. At least, not then. That man — never existed. I made it up. I was afraid you were going to make me marry someone against my will. I suppose you could say I ran away from home. Ethan and I were married yesterday. And he didn’t know the circumstances about my leaving home, until recently.”

  Philbert looked from Ethan to his daughter, noting how close they sat. There was, indeed, more than a closeness of proximity between them. And his daughter looked — why, she looked radiant!

  “Sir, if you will permit me to explain,” Ethan said easily, but with deference, “Genny has been working for me as my bookkeeper and assistant, almost as long as she’s been in Nashville. As she told you, we were married yesterday. I would like to assure you that I intend to take very good care of her.”

  The older man cleared his throat. “I see. Yes. Well, I am pleased. You may not be aware of this, but as a doctor you are widely known and respected throughout the state. Your war record, and your gift for surgery, are known even among us bankers.”

  That’s very kind of you, sir.”

  Philbert glanced at Ethan and appeared somewhat embarrassed. “If you don’t mind, Doctor, simply for my own benefit, may I see the marriage certificate?”

  “Of course.” Ethan withdrew a paper from his coat pocket and calmly exhibited the document to his father-in-law.

  Philbert gave it only a cursory glance. “Of course, I never doubted your honor, Dr. Carey,” he said uncomfortably.

  “Mr. Romayne,” Ethan said earnestly, “it would please me if you would call me Ethan. And I do apologize for the fact that you worried unnecessarily. Genny felt she had certain reasons for acting as she did. I hope we will have a relationship of honesty and respect, beginning with this moment.”

>   Philbert cleared his throat again. “Ah, of course. Thank you for that.”

  “How is Mother?” Genny asked.

  Her father looked down at the floor. “Your mother is not well. It’s nothing serious — that is, I think she would appreciate a visit from you in the near future, Virginia.”

  “Yes, Father, I will.”

  “Well.” Philbert stood up and reached for his hat. “I really must be leaving.”

  “Won’t you stay for a few days, Mr. Romayne? Or at least overnight?”

  “No, thank you. I have business to attend to as soon as possible, and there’s a train leaving in an hour. I left my driver outside. But I’ll come for a visit sometime.”

  “We’ll be glad to have you — the whole family. It was a pleasure meeting you, sir.”

  “And you, Dr. Carey. I mean, Ethan.” The two men shook hands again and then Philbert turned to Genny. “Goodbye, Virginia.”

  “I’m sorry about everything, Father.”

  Genny put her arms around him and kissed him. Philbert looked for a moment as if he didn’t quite know where to put his hat. Finally he shoved it upon his head, gruffly bade them goodbye, and left.

  * * * *

  That evening, Ethan and Geoff had drinks in the parlor before supper, while Valerie helped Agnes and Myrtle Mae in the kitchen. Watching Ethan over the rim of his glass, Geoff said off-handedly, “Where is Genny? I haven’t seen much of you two since you got back.” He looked amused to see Ethan flush.

  “She’s dressing for supper.” Then he added, “Geoff, I’ve got the feeling you want to talk to me about something.”

  Geoff nodded, extracting a cigar from his pocket. “I wanted to tell you that Valerie and I wish you every happiness, of course, but we’ve started looking for another house. The situation is different now that you’re married, and we don’t want to impose.”

  After a moment, Ethan replied, “I want you to know that nothing’s changed as far as I’m concerned. And Genny hasn’t said a word about wanting you to leave.”

  “Perhaps she is reluctant to. Anyway, we should have done it years ago. We just — got too comfortable here, I suppose.”

  “It would have been a lonely house without the two of you.”

  Valerie came into the parlor, carrying her sewing basket. Geoff said abruptly, “I’m going out for the evening. Don’t wait up for me, Val. Goodnight.”

  Ethan sat down in a chair, propped his feet on a stool and picked up a book. For the first time he felt uncomfortable being alone with Valerie, though she hadn’t so much as given him a reproachful look since he and Genny returned. He’d never given her any reason to believe he had romantic thoughts about her, though he’d known how she felt about him.

  Agnes appeared in the doorway. “Doctor, there’s a woman outside who wants to speak with ye.”

  “Who is it, Agnes?”

  “A Mrs. Hudson, sir.”

  He frowned, unable to place the name. “Is she a patient?”

  “She didn’t say, sir. Shall I ask her?”

  “No. Send her in.”

  Before the housekeeper could turn around, the unidentified woman slipped briskly by her and entered the room without the slightest hesitation. Agnes pursed her lips and made a stiff departure, mutely conveying her disapproval. Valerie stifled an involuntary intake of breath. The woman, though now much older than she appeared in her photograph, was unmistakably Caroline Adams.

  After twelve silent years, she was still beautiful, still slender and fashionably dressed. And yet, on closer inspection, Valerie wondered how she had recognized her as the sweet-faced girl in the photograph, for this Caroline Adams held nothing of sweetness or gentleness in her features. She wore a look of hardness, as if she had seen the very worst of life. Her eyes were more burning than they were warm, her smile more fixed than genuine. Even now, as she stood so still before them, she gave the effect of a great restlessness, of an unending search.

  And obviously, Valerie thought, her search had led her here.

  “Hello, Ethan,” she said, in a low, husky voice. Her emerald eyes seemed to burn brighter, and her smile broadened as she regarded him keenly.

  Ethan had not moved. Now, he slowly removed his feet from the stool and got up. He wore no cravat and his waistcoat was unbuttoned, but he made no move to correct his appearance. He merely stood with an almost unnatural calm.

  She wore an evening gown of a deep crimson hue, cut low in the neck. A white lace shawl, not suitable for cold weather, hung carelessly over her arms. But although the gown was stylish, it had a faded, much-worn look about it, and she wore no gloves or jewelry. Her abundant black hair swirled back into a white silk net.

  “You’re looking well,” she observed, her eyes sweeping candidly over him. “The years have been kinder to you than to me.”

  Ethan said nothing. If he was surprised, he hid it well. Without taking his gaze from the visitor, he put his pipe between his teeth and struck a match.

  Caroline’s eyes moved to the stricken Valerie, narrowing somewhat, becoming sharper and more critical. She arched a delicate black eyebrow. “I was told you had married. My, but she’s awfully young, Ethan. Doesn’t it give you rather a paternal feeling?”

  “Hardly, but this is not my wife. Miss Ward, Miss Adams — or rather, Mrs. Hudson, did you say?”

  “Why, Ethan, whatever do you mean, entertaining other ladies in your wife’s absence? I’m quite shocked.”

  “I’m sure you are. However, my wife is upstairs if you’d like to meet her.”

  “No, thanks. I came to see you.”

  “If you will excuse me — ” Valerie half rose, putting down her sewing.

  “Don’t go, Valerie. I doubt Mrs. Hudson has anything personal to say.”

  Caroline chuckled. “Why, Ethan, I do believe you’re afraid of me.”

  “To be frank, madam, any man with sense would be scared to death, and for the life of me I can’t fathom what you’re doing here.”

  She was not amused. “Really, Ethan, as if I were a vampire or something! Of course I’ve come to see you on a medical matter. Can’t we go into your office?”

  “Valerie is very discreet, and on occasion has helped me in my office.”

  “Ethan, I must insist — ”

  “Caroline, I must insist that you tell me why you’re here before I agree to anything.”

  She shrugged. “Very well,” she said. “I’m going to have a baby.”

  Ethan smoked in silence, squinting slightly at her through the smoke.

  Caroline strolled forward and plopped down in a chair. She stared at him mockingly.

  At length, he prompted, “And?”

  She gave a long sigh. “My, how dense you’ve grown, Dr. Carey. I want to — get rid of it.”

  Ethan’s manner again grew still and quiet. “So the child presents a threat to your own life?”

  “Indeed it does! If there’s anything I don’t need, it’s a baby! Why, it would ruin everything. Besides, there’s a certain risk of — scandal. You see, my husband’s been dead for five years.”

  Ethan’s face changed subtly, and Valerie was unable to decipher the look in his eyes. What was it? Disgust? Or something else entirely? She’d heard that he had once been very much in love with this woman.

  “And where is the father?”

  Caroline shrugged again. “Gone. It doesn’t matter.”

  “An abortion is a very serious operation.”

  “I know that. That’s why I’ve come to you. You’re supposed to be the best, I’ve heard.”

  “Before Heaven, madam, I have never performed an abortion, and I have no intention of ever doing so.”

  “Oh, don’t be such a prude! I meant that you’re a good surgeon. Do you honestly think I’d make a good mother? I’d be doing it a favor.”

  “Taking the life of a child because the mother is unfit is — ”

  “A child! It’s not a child yet.”

  “A child,” said Ethan. “A
life and a soul. Does his incompleteness make him any less a person? Or hers? If I were to cut off my arms and legs, would I be any less a man?”

  “In my estimation, yes,” Caroline said smoothly.

  “Yes, well, I might have expected that from you.”

  “Oh, what a mountain you’re making out of a molehill! I’ve made a long trip to see you, Ethan, and you’re not being at all nice.” Caroline opened the white silk reticule that hung at her wrist, and withdrew a short necklace of glossy white pearls. “These were appraised yesterday at five hundred dollars. It’s yours. Or…” Her voice trailed off; she raised her eyes to meet his. “Perhaps we can discuss some other means of payment, Dr. Carey.”

  Ethan regarded her for a moment in silence. He set down his pipe and strode slowly across the floor to where she sat gazing intently at him. He held out his hand for the pearls. She dropped them into his outstretched palm, letting her own hand brush against his. He took her hand in his and pulled her to her feet. Then Ethan placed the necklace around her throat, turning his head to hook the catch in the back.

  “Go away, Caroline,” he said softly.

  Her smile faded and her black brows slanted upward in a beseeching way. A note of entreaty crept into her voice. “Please, Ethan. I’m in trouble. I need your help.”

  “Why did you come here?” he asked, in that same quiet, somber tone. “Why, after all these years and all that happened between us, would you come and place your life in my hands?”

  “Because I’m desperate,” she said sharply. “I didn’t want to risk my life by going to some butcher calling himself a doctor, or one of those voodoo women with their weird rituals and herbs. I — I’ve been through that before.” She laughed, but there was no mirth in her laughter. “No, Ethan, I’m not afraid you’ll kill me, no matter how rotten I’ve been to you. You see, I know you. Or, at least I did once. I should have known this would be too much to ask.”

  “My advice to you, Caroline, is to find yourself another doctor, have your baby, and for once in your life think of someone besides yourself. And if you can’t manage that, there’s always adoption.”