Written in the Heart

by Judith Stacy

  “You like him, don’t you.”

  Startled, Brenna jerked around to face Caroline. She was quiet for a moment, then shook her head. “Richard is destined to do great things. I see it in him. But it will be difficult enough for him, given his circumstances. He’ll never get anywhere with someone like me for a wife.”

  Caroline knew it, too. She and Stephen had discussed it. But hearing Brenna say it, seeing the hurt in her eyes, the finality of the words, made the realization too painful.

  “Maybe not,” Caroline began.

  Brenna shook her head. “It’s true. You know it. I know it. In today’s society people are judged not by what they achieve, but by what they are. I’m a nanny. One of the working class. I’ll never be accepted in the circles Richard needs to be a part of here in Los Angeles.”

  “But if you love him—”

  “It won’t be enough.”

  Brenna kept her chin up bravely. She’d thought this through. She knew what life was about. And life for the socially prominent was all about family lines, breeding, an acceptable background.

  “I am who I am,” Brenna said. “I can’t be more than that. Not even for Richard’s sake.”

  “I don’t like to hear you talk that way,” Caroline said.

  Brenna took Caroline’s hand. “I’ve accepted it. You have to do the same, Caroline.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Brenna grinned. “You’re as pigheaded as Stephen.”

  “Insulting me won’t change my mind,” Caroline said, then smiled. “But look, just because Stephen said no to our outing with Joey doesn’t mean it’s out of the question. You and Joey both need it.”

  “I don’t see what we can do,” Brenna said. “Stephen was adamant.”

  “If we can’t take Joey on an outing, maybe we’ll bring one to him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Caroline nodded firmly. “Give me a few days to work on it.”

  Darkness had fallen outside Caroline’s bedroom window several hours ago. She tossed in bed, comfortable under the yellow coverlet, on the eyelet-lace sheets, but still unable to sleep.

  Not that she wasn’t tired. She’d put in a full afternoon supervising the workmen in the soon-to-be-pink sitting room, talking with the decorator who’d come by with some last-minute suggestions and more samples to consider. She’d looked over the spring cleaning the staff was doing, ordered more supplies, all with Aunt Delfi drifting in and out, offering her unique form of help.

  These and several more projects buzzed around in Caroline’s head tonight, but none of them kept her from sleeping. Instead, it was a lump of sadness in her chest that left her staring at the ceiling.

  Finally, she rose and tied her pale green dressing gown over her matching nightgown, and slipped out onto the balcony. The night air was still and fragrant with the flowers that bloomed in the gardens below. The stones beneath her feet were cool.

  She hadn’t been out here since the first night she’d stayed in the Monterey home, the night she’d found Stephen barefoot in his undershirt around the corner from the turret room. Maybe it was his habit to stand on the balcony every night, maybe not. Still, it was inappropriate to lurk in the shadows watching for him.

  But tonight, impropriety didn’t seem so important. And it was late, much later than when she’d glimpsed him before. He was asleep, surely.

  Caroline walked silently to the turret room and peeked around the corner. No sign of Stephen. Satisfied she had the balcony to herself, Caroline ran her hand along the stone railing as she strolled, watching the streetlamps visible from this side of the house. A little breeze blew, swirling her hair around her shoulders.

  The solitude of the night allowed her to sink further into thought, speculating, wishing—

  A noise made her spin around. Caroline gasped as French doors opened and Stephen burst onto the balcony.

  Wearing only his trousers.

  Which weren’t fastened.

  “What the devil—Caroline?” He stopped, both hands clutching the waistband of the pants he’d yanked on. “I saw a shadow. I thought—”

  The white cotton V of his underwear shone like a beacon in the darkness, capturing Caroline’s gaze and freezing her in place. She’d never seen a man’s underwear before—at least not while it was being worn.

  Stephen glanced down to see what she was looking at, then hopped back into his room. He stepped onto the balcony a moment later, trousers buttoned, shrugging into a shirt.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, coming toward her. “Are you all right? Did something happen?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” She turned away. Nothing except that her pulse was racing from what she’d just seen.

  “Why are you out here?”

  He stopped beside her. She felt the heat from his body and knew he was close.

  “I just…”

  She glanced back at him, and that one tiny glimpse made her turn to face him. He drew her, uncontrollably.

  His hair was ruffled. Whiskers darkened his chin. He’d closed the center button on his shirt, but that was all. The tail flapped in the breeze. The cuffs were open. Black, curly hair covered his chest. His broad, strong chest.

  “What are you doing out here?” Stephen asked.

  Never—ever—in her entire life, in all the countries she’d lived, in all the circumstances she’d found herself, had Caroline once wanted to press her hands against a man’s chest. Until now.

  What did his hair feel like? Were those muscles as hard as they looked?

  “Caroline, are you sure you’re all right?”

  She snapped out of her stupor and deliberately turned to gaze out at the yard again.

  “I couldn’t sleep, that’s all,” she said. “Sorry I disturbed you.”

  Stephen leaned on the stone railing beside her, looking out across the grass.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “I couldn’t sleep, either.”

  “Why not?”

  He shrugged and his shoulder brushed hers. “Business…I guess. And you?”

  “I was thinking about Brenna and Richard,” she said. “And I was feeling a little sad that they love each other but can’t be together.”

  “Richard and Brenna? In love?”

  She rolled her eyes up at him. “Of course they’re in love. Haven’t you noticed?”

  “Well, no…”

  “Honestly, Stephen…” Caroline sighed. “Anyway, I think it’s sad that they can’t get together. I feel sorry for Brenna.”

  Stephen grunted. “That’s strange, coming from a woman who doesn’t want a husband herself.”

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t see what’s good for other people.”

  “Are we getting back to that outing with Joey again?”

  “Your pigheadedness, you mean?” she asked.

  “More like yours,” he said.

  Caroline couldn’t help smiling, just a bit. He looked down at her and smiled, too.

  A wave of profound comfort washed over Caroline. Instead of Stephen making her heart pound or her temper soar, standing at his side in the evening breeze brought only contentment. A gentle easiness she’d never experienced before.

  They stood there awhile in silence, and that was comfortable, too.

  “Have you ever gone into the yard at night?” Caroline asked.

  “Uncle Colin used to have parties there in the spring.”

  “No, I mean late at night when no one else is around,” Caroline said. “Taken off your shoes and felt the cool grass on your feet? Dipped your toes in the fountain?”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever considered it, let alone done it.”

  “Doesn’t it sound like fun?”

  “Not really.”

  She poked him playfully with her elbow. “Of course it does.”

  “The lawn is perfect as it is. I don’t need to take off my shoes and tromp all over it to appreciate it.”

  “But that’s not the point,” Caroline said.


  He gave her an if-you-say-so shrug, but didn’t comment. “You never did tell me why you don’t want to get married,” he said after a while.

  “It’s because…”

  “Because why?”

  Caroline turned to face him then, and he turned, too. Her heart began to beat fast again and she didn’t fight it, didn’t try to think, didn’t try to stop what was about to happen. She couldn’t have stopped it, anyway.

  Stephen leaned down and kissed her. Caroline curled her arms around his neck and let his lips cover hers. She rose onto tiptoes to kiss him back. Her body curved naturally into his. Softness giving way to hardness. Heat blooming between them.

  She leaned her head back as his lips kissed a hot path down her cheek and settled into the valley of her neck. His hand rose along her side until his thumb brushed the base of her breast.

  Caroline gasped. Stephen groaned.

  He pulled away then, his breath hot and heavy against her face.

  “You should never marry.” Stephen’s voice was hoarse and thick. “Because your husband would never get one productive thing done for all the rest of his life.”

  He backed away, taking the warmth with him. His gaze burned; his breath was labored. Caroline knew why. She knew what it meant.

  “Go back to your room,” he said.

  She went.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Monterey home buzzed with activity by mid-morning, but Stephen sat working in his office, ignoring it all.

  Painters carrying ladders and scaffolding had trudged past the breakfast room as he ate his morning meal alone. Delfina, who usually breakfasted with him, was presumably supervising the redecorating. Stephen was pleased that she was taking over so much of the running of the house now.

  He wasn’t pleased that Caroline hadn’t been present for breakfast. He’d wanted to see her, even if she wouldn’t be wearing just her nightgown and robe.

  Stephen rubbed his eyes as the columns of figures in the ledger book ran together. He’d not slept a wink after finding her on his balcony. Maybe she was tired, too. Maybe she’d slept late this morning.

  Caroline in bed.

  Stephen dragged both hands down his face. Good heavens, how was he going to run his business when this kept happening?

  A little whiff of Caroline tickled his nose and she strode briskly into his office, her lavender dress rustling, the heels of her high buttoned shoes clicking on the floor.

  She didn’t say anything, just fetched his suit jacket from its hanger behind the door and carried it to his desk.

  “Come along, please,” she said, holding the jacket.

  He looked up at her. “What’s going on?”

  “You’re needed,” she said. “It won’t take long.”

  Stephen rose and she slipped the jacket on him.

  “What the devil is going on?” he asked.

  “You’re making a donation this morning.” Caroline brushed the shoulders of his brown jacket.

  “I am?”

  “You are.” She studied him. “Did you pick out this necktie yourself?”

  He ran his hand down the blue silk. “What’s wrong with it? I always pick out my own neck wear.”

  “So I’ve noticed.” Caroline pressed her lips together. “Well, it’s not that bad. It will do for this occasion.”

  “What occasion?” he asked.

  “You’re donating some of Uncle Colin’s extensive book collection to the public library. We’re having a ceremony in the blue parlor.”

  “A ceremony?”

  “Yes. A reporter and sketch artist from the newspaper are here. Aunt Delfi is with them now.”

  His eyes widened. “Aunt Delfi? She’s behind this?”

  “There’s a luncheon afterward. You don’t have to stay. They understand that you have another appointment immediately after the presentation.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes. Mr. Turley said so.”

  “Oh.”

  “Mr. Wingate is the gentleman accepting the books on behalf of the library,” Caroline said. “You’ll need to say something about how your uncle collected the volumes during his many travels, and how pleased you are that the community can benefit from these rare and unusual books.”

  A hint of a grin tugged at his lips. “I’m pleased, am I?”

  She glanced up, meeting his eye for only a fraction of a second. “You are.”

  Caroline reached up and smoothed an errant lock of his hair. Her hand hung there for a breathless moment. Little patches of pink appeared on her cheeks as she stepped back quickly.

  “Do I pass inspection, madam?” he asked.

  “You’ll do,” she said, without looking at him again. “Come along.”

  Stephen followed her swaying hips out of his office and down the hallway. He would have followed her off a cliff.

  In the parlor, Delfina chatted easily with the reporter and artist from the Times, and Mr. Wingate from the library. Caroline was pleased to see that she looked so comfortable in that setting. Aunt Delfi was an excellent hostess and had even helped arrange this morning’s presentation by telephoning the newspaper herself. Delfina loved to talk on the telephone, it seemed.

  Caroline’s morning had been busy, overseeing the painters in the sitting room, ordering more cleaning supplies for the staff hard at work polishing the woodwork on the second floor. She’d had breakfast early and hadn’t seen Stephen, which was just as well, since she knew she’d blush at the first sight of him.

  After their encounter on the balcony last night, her emotions seemed almost out of control.

  Standing to the side, Caroline set her mind on her task, getting it off of Stephen and his white cotton drawers, and quietly orchestrated the presentation. After Delfina had arranged for the reporter and sketch artist, Caroline had cleared Stephen’s schedule with Mr. Turley, had the workmen bring down the books from the attic, and arranged them for presentation in the blue parlor. She didn’t want anything to go wrong now.

  Stephen made some concise, earnest remarks, and Mr. Wingate accepted the books graciously on behalf of the library. The reporter took notes, the artist sketched Stephen’s likeness, and that was that. One community-minded event for the Monterey family over and done with.

  “We’re serving luncheon,” Caroline said. Nothing like a sumptuous meal to encourage the reporter to cover future events. “I hope you gentlemen can join us.”

  They could, of course, and Delfina led their guests out of the parlor. When Stephen fell into step, Caroline stopped him.

  “It’s all right, Stephen, they know you’re busy. They’re not expecting you.”

  He glanced at the others disappearing into the hallway. “I don’t mind.”

  “You don’t like this sort of thing.”

  “No, not usually, but—”

  “Besides, you have another appointment,” she said.

  “Nothing that can’t wait.”

  “Mr. Jenkins is coming,” Caroline said. “You can’t keep your accountant waiting. You know how fussy he gets. And you need to wrap up this warehouse deal.”

  She hooked his arm in hers and guided him out of the parlor. “Run along. You have work to do.”

  “But—”

  “And the next time you wear this suit, put on your pale yellow tie with it.”

  Stephen looked down at his necktie. “Yellow? Do you think so?”

  “I definitely think so,” she said, and left him standing in the hallway. While she wished he were still looking at his necktie, she knew his gaze followed her. She could feel it, causing her skin to tingle.

  Trying to maintain a brisk and detached air around Stephen was as tiring as the tide of other emotions that always washed through her when they were together. Or when she thought of him. Or caught a glimpse of him. Or someone mentioned his name.

  Caroline paused outside the dining room. No matter what, the man wore her out. She put on a smile and hurried inside.

  Delfina cured Caroline’s pro
blem of seeing too much of Stephen that very afternoon. With the donation ceremony and luncheon successfully concluded, she decided Caroline should accompany her to the meeting of the Ladies Spring Flower Club. The organization of women dedicated themselves to beautifying the city of Los Angeles by sharing knowledge and gardening skills.

  “You’ll enjoy this meeting,” Delfina predicted as they climbed into the carriage. “All the best families are represented.”

  “Are you sure I should come?” Caroline asked.

  “Of course!” Delfina beamed. “I must show off my connection with the royalty of Europe. Besides, Aurora Chalmers will be there and I want to make sure she watches the Times for our library donation.”

  Although it didn’t sit quite right with her, Caroline couldn’t argue. She’d arranged the donation to satisfy what Delfina saw as the slumping position of the Monterey family, and because the library really could use the books.

  “Now, tell me, dear,” Delfina said. “What sort of event should we plan next?”

  “I do have something in mind,” Caroline said.

  “Honoring our veterans, perhaps?”

  She shook her head. “No, but something just as worthy.”

  “It must be worthy of the Monterey name,” Delfina insisted.

  “It will be,” Caroline assured her.

  “Shall we get to work on it when we return home?”

  Caroline knew Delfina’s “we” really meant her. But that suited Caroline fine. Delfi did as much as she could. Caroline didn’t expect any more of her.

  She smiled across the carriage at the older woman. “We should definitely get right on it. We’ll want to have this event within the next few days. In fact, we might even make it an annual event.”

  Delfina sighed dreamily. “An annual Monterey event. How delightful.”

  And delightful was how Caroline felt about the meeting of the Ladies Spring Flower Club. The women welcomed her warmly and were anxious to hear about her life in Europe. A few of the other women had visited some of the same homes that Caroline and her father had been guests in. One of them had even heard of the renowned Jacob Jackson Sommerfield, and regaled the other women with tales of his extraordinary detective work.

  Delfina basked in the glory of the excitement Caroline brought to the day’s club meeting. Even Aurora Chalmers had been impressed, and even more pleasing, speechless.