by Renee Yancy
“I am that.”
“Did you know she would be here?”
He shook his head. “I had no idea. I didn’t even know where she was.”
Gillian’s chin lifted. “And now you do? Know where she is?” Her gaze didn’t falter, but the pulse beating in her throat gave her distress away.
He sighed. “No. I don’t.”
“And why is that?” Her hand tightened on his arm. “Why, John?”
He didn’t answer.
“Shall I tell you?” Her blue eyes were steady on his.
Jack pressed his lips together and met her defiant gaze. “Tell me.”
“She’s run away again. From you this time.”
He clenched his fists and tried to control his anger. “She ran away because you lied, Gillian. You told her we were engaged, and it’s not true.”
Gillian shook her head. “Why didn’t she stay? Stay and fight for you?”
He stared at her, his thoughts tumbling over one another. “She’s not like—She’s...”
“I’d have stayed. I wouldn’t have let you slip away again.”
Jack sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “I need to be alone, Gillian.
“Face it, John! She ran away because she didn’t want you to find her.”
“No.”
“Yes.” Her voice turned gentle. “I know you don’t want to hear this. But it’s clear to me she wants nothing to do with you. Why else would she have left so abruptly? Why wouldn’t she have stayed, at least to discover what had happened to you?”
He bowed his head. He had asked himself the same question at least a hundred times in the last few hours. “I don’t know. But I need to get away. To think.”
She patted his hand. “Of course you do. Just come back.” She stood as if everything had been settled. “Where will you go?”
“New York. To see my uncle.”
“Very well, darling.”
Chapter 49
New York City
It felt odd to be back in his uncle’s home. As if four years had passed instead of four months. His uncle had been pleasantly surprised to see him and welcomed with open arms. He had ordered a roast beef for dinner in honor of his arrival, and then, comfortably replete, they sat together in the library.
“I’ve taken a week off, Uncle, to consider some things. I need your advice.”
“Certainly, my boy. Everything going well at Chautauqua? How is the Vincent girl?”
Jack had dutifully written his uncle each week, detailing his assignments and progress at the Chautauqua Institution. He had mentioned Gillian, and his uncle had written back, urging him to cultivate that relationship.
“She is well. She wants us to marry.”
Reverend Winthrop sat up with a thump of his feet. “You don’t say! Congratulations, Jack. Capital news.”
“Well... there’s a problem.”
His uncle’s brow furrowed. “What sort of problem?”
“Do you know where Evangeline Lindenmayer is?”
Reverend Winthrop’s eyes bulged, and he nearly choked. “Lindenmayer? What the deuce—what’s she got to do with anything?”
“I’ve tried everything to find her, with no success. And then this week, she showed up at Chautauqua.”
His uncle frowned. “Did you speak with her?” A worried look stole over his wrinkled face.
“That’s just it. She left before I could. Gillian was with me and... and even though there’s no formal arrangement yet, she told Lindy we were engaged.”
Reverend Winthrop snorted. “Oh my.” He smiled. “I can see what a kerfuffle that would cause.”
“Yes. Lindy ran away before I could say anything.”
“Then what’s the problem, my boy? You should be counting your blessings.”
“I’m still in love with Lindy, Uncle. I can’t marry Gillian.”
His uncle bolted upright. “Nonsense, Jack. You can, and you must marry Gillian.”
“Why?”
“Because from everything you’ve written about her, she’s perfectly suited to be your wife.”
“But I don’t love her.”
“Pshaw! Love, love, love. You can grow into love. You’ve made some excellent connections through Gillian. Think of your career, my boy.”
Jack shook his head, scarcely able to believe his uncle’s words. “But how can that be fair to Gillian? How can I marry a woman I don’t love while I love another?”
His uncle chuckled. “You’re going to have to get over these adolescent ideas. You’re speaking of infatuation, not love.”
Jack sprang to his feet. “It’s not infatuation, Uncle. We were of the same spirit, the same mind. I’m not a whole man without her.”
“Then why did she leave without telling you if you’re of the same spirit?”
The same question Gillian had so calmly asked. Is it possible I’m deluded? That Lindy no longer felt the same toward him?
Jack clenched his jaw. “I don’t know. But I have to find out.”
“Don’t be foolish and throw your future away. Marriage is a business transaction. Take Gillian Vincent and move on with your career. That’s my final word.”
Jack studied his uncle’s placid face. “Is that how you felt about my mother?”
His uncle’s jaw fell open. “What’s your mother have to do with anything?” He spluttered, trying to regain his composure.
“Wouldn’t you have married her if you’d had the opportunity?”
His uncle’s lips worked, and he turned away. “I didn’t have the opportunity.”
“But what if it had presented itself? What if she had loved you in return?”
His uncle tensed and gripped the arms of his chair. “It was a long time ago, Jack.” Then he drew a deep breath. “But... if she had loved me...” A wistful smile stole over his face, and Jack caught a glimpse of his uncle as a young man. “I wouldn’t have let anything stand in my way.”
***
The gold letters on the office door of Lindenmayer, Incorporated stated the hours of 8:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. Jack had arrived before seven, determined to wait all day if needed. He’d passed a sleepless night in his uncle’s home and had arisen before dawn. If Lindenmayer didn’t show up at his office today, Jack was mentally prepared to go to the Lindenmayer mansion on Fifth Avenue. Although, he didn’t look forward to the prospect of coming face to face with Vera Lindenmayer.
At a quarter to eight, a middle-aged woman in severe black broadcloth and a white shirtwaist came along the hall to open the office.
“Good morning, sir.” The secretary scrutinized his frock coat and cocked an eyebrow. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No. But I’m hoping to see Mr. Lindenmayer today.”
“Your name?”
“Jack Winthrop.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
“Is there a problem?”
“Oh, no, sir. Please wait in there.” She pointed to another door.
Jack took a seat in the room, cozy with its red-brocaded walls. But he couldn’t sit for long and ended up pacing the room, end to end, over and over. His stomach rumbled. He’d barely been able to eat since coming to New York. One way or the other, he had to get this settled.
The secretary sat at her desk behind a frosted glass panel. Soon he heard voices, and a moment later, Otto Lindenmayer strode into the waiting room.
“Mr. Winthrop! What a surprise.”
“I hope not an unpleasant one.”
“No, no, no. Come into my office.” He stopped at the secretary’s desk. “Send some coffee in, Miss Haskell.”
“Very good, sir.”
Otto led Jack into a room richly paneled in walnut and indicated a chair. “Sit, Jack. I’ve been searching everywhere for you. And here you are in my office, come from nowhere.”
Jack’s jaw dropped. He could hardly believe his ears. “You’ve been looking for me?”
“For months. I even hired a private investigator, but he couldn�
�t turn up a trace of you.”
“May I ask why, sir?”
“Why, for Lindy. What else?”
Jack sat, his knees weak. Lindenmayer actually seemed happy to see him.
Otto regarded Jack with a quizzical glance. “You know she never married the duke?”
“I’ve only recently discovered that, sir. Since then, I have been desperately trying to find her. I sent you many letters. They were returned to me, sir. Unopened.”
Otto frowned. “I never received any letters.”
“Five letters, sir, to be exact.”
A glint came into Otto’s eye. He went to the door of his office and opened it. “Miss Haskell? Would you please come in here a moment?” He looked at Jack. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Miss Haskell came slowly into the office, avoiding Jack’s eyes.
“Please sit down, Miss Haskell.”
She perched stiffly on the edge of a chair and folded her hands.
Otto cleared his throat. “I’m trying to solve a mystery.” He fixed his secretary with a stern glance. “Have any letters from a Mr. Jack Winthrop arrived at the office?”
The secretary stared at the floor and twisted a ring on her finger. “W-Winthrop?”
“Yes, Miss Haskell. Winthrop.”
“T-There may have been one. Or two.”
“Indeed.” Otto tapped his fingers on the desk. “And what happened to those letters?”
Miss Haskell swallowed hard. “I—”
“Come, come, Miss Haskell, must I remind you, as your employer, I am entitled to an answer?”
“No sir,” she stammered, “I mean, yes sir.”
“Well? Come, be smart about it if you value your position.”
“She made me do it!” Miss Haskell burst into tears. “I didn’t want to, but she said she’d have me fired!” She pulled a hankie from her pocket and wept into it.
“If there’s any firing to be done, I’ll be doing it. But I wouldn’t dream of firing you.”
Miss Haskell raised a tear-stained face. “Truly, sir?”
Otto nodded. “Why would I fire the best secretary I’ve ever had? Now dry your face and explain yourself.”
The secretary blew her swollen nose with a loud honk. “It was months ago, sir. In the spring. Mrs. Lindenmayer came to see me. She gave me strict instructions to watch for any correspondence to you from a Jack Winthrop.”
“And?”
“And if a letter came, I was to return it unopened.”
“I see.”
“I tried to tell her it wasn’t right, sir. But she cut me off and...” she hesitated, twisting the damp handkerchief between her fingers.
Otto shrugged. “I well understand how terrifying my wife can be,” he said kindly. “You’re excused. And not a word to Mrs. Lindenmayer about this conversation.”
“Yes sir. Thank you, sir.”
Miss Haskell hurried out, and the next minute they heard the happy clacking of her typewriter.
“Mystery solved.” Otto looked at Jack. “Lindy is at her aunt’s house in Buffalo, New York. Here.” He snatched a piece of paper and scribbled the address down. He blew on it and handed it to Jack. “There you go.”
Jack could scarcely believe his ears. “You’ve no objection then, sir?”
“I’m looking forward to welcoming you into the family.” He gave Jack a firm handshake. “Go get her, son.”
Chapter 50
Buffalo, New York
Lindy took her mid-morning coffee to the gardens. The roses were in full bloom, and the air delicious with their scent. She sipped her coffee and sighed. It had been almost a week since she’d come face to face with Jack at Chautauqua. After thinking about him every day since she left the duke standing at the altar. All Papa’s efforts to find him had come to nothing.
And then, what had she done? She’d run away like a child, as fast as she could. Back to Buffalo without another word.
The girl with him had disconcerted her. Gillian Vincent. His fiancée. Fiancée! Obviously, he had forgotten Lindy altogether if he could become engaged to another girl so quickly. But there had been shock on his face too. And when he sat next to her, he had a pleading look in his eyes and hesitated when he had to introduce Gillian.
And the pain in his voice when he cried out her name as she ran away.
Lindy snorted. Fuss and feathers. It didn’t amount to anything. He was engaged to be married to another woman, and that was that.
Or was it? She couldn’t get the sound of Jack’s voice calling her name out of her head. What might have happened if she hadn’t left?
Oh, why did I run away? Silly girl.
Maybe there was an explanation? But he had known she hadn’t married the duke. He had said so. Was it possible he had searched for her, as she had searched for him? She stopped cold. Mama. Her mother hadn’t spoken to her since the wedding fiasco, returned Lindy’s letters unopened. What if her mother had engineered something of the same regarding Jack?
Claudine greeted her, smiling. Lindy made up her mind. “Find something cool and light, please. I’m going to Chautauqua.”
Two hours later, Lindy stood first in line to disembark and fidgeted while the crewmen tied the boat up. She fairly flew across the gangplank, ignoring the questions of the dockworkers as to the whereabouts of her trunk. She walked as quickly as she decently could toward the hotel.
“Oh, please, please, please,” she prayed under her breath.
What did she have to lose? She should never have run away from him. He hadn’t known she had refused the duke. How could he have? She should have stayed and tried to explain, but she’d been so taken aback by his introduction of the beautiful blond girl as his fiancée she’d had no other thought than to run as far away as she could.
Finally, she reached the hotel and approached the desk, gathering her manners and trying to still the urgent thumping of her heart. “Is Jack Winthrop in?”
The desk clerk examined his records. “He’s away for a few days. Would you like to leave a message?”
“Do you... do you have any idea where he has gone?”
The desk clerk shuffled his feet. “Miss, I only man the desk.”
Lindy gulped. “Of course. Please excuse me.” She turned away and sank into a chair in the lobby. What do I do now? She couldn’t wait, having no idea of when he would return. She approached the desk, asked for ink and paper, and held the pen poised in her hand. What did one write at such a time as this?
Jack,
I shouldn’t have run away. I’m desperate to see you. I love you. Please come.
Lindy
She wrote her address under her signature, folded the note, and gave it to the clerk.
There was nothing else she could do. She made her way through the camp toward the pier and booked a ticket to Buffalo on the three o’clock ship, then found a place to wait on a long wooden bench in front of the station. The late afternoon breeze picked up, making whitecaps on the lake. A blue heron flew low over the water, slender and graceful, as another steamship chugged its way toward the dock.
Lindy leaned her head against the wall. She couldn’t have been any plainer in her note. I love you. Please come. She blushed to recall her words. If only Jack would read them and respond.
Please, don’t let it be too late.
Chapter 51
Chautauqua, New York
The night train couldn’t return to western New York fast enough for Jack. Every nerve in his body twanged on alert, ready to rush off to Buffalo. But first, he had to speak to Bishop Vincent. And Gillian.
He left his suitcase in his room and went in search of Bishop Vincent, not caring that his haste and hurried movements were the exact opposite of everyone else on the grounds, leisurely going about their day. After checking the bishop’s office, the amphitheater, the meeting rooms, and classrooms, he finally came upon him walking to his office from the dining hall.
“Good morning, Jack. Back already? That was a short tr
ip.”
“Yes sir. Do you have a moment? I need to speak with you.”
“Of course. Come up to my office.”
Jack’s heart thumped in his chest, and his palms were moist as he followed the bishop up the stairs.
Bishop Vincent ushered him in. “Have a seat.”
“No, thank you, sir.” Jack straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to have to say this. I cannot marry your niece. It was wrong of me to think I could.”
Bishop Vincent frowned and drummed his fingers on the blotter. “I’m disappointed to hear that, son. What’s happened? Have you had a tiff?”
“No, sir. Nothing like that. Gillian has been a model of feminine grace and sweetness.”
“Indeed?”
“It’s me. I’m the problem.” Best to get it out bluntly. “I love someone else, sir.”
Bishop Vincent grimaced. “Oh dear.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead. “Have you told Gillian?”
“No, sir. I came to you first.”
“I appreciate that.” He fixed Jack with a stern glance. “I suppose this means you’re leaving Chautauqua?”
“Yes sir.”
“Is there any chance you might change your mind?”
Jack shook his head. “No. Sir.”
“Then I won’t try to persuade you.” He stroked his white beard and sighed. “Gillian is set on you, young man. You’re going to break her heart.”
Jack swallowed. “I’m aware of that, sir. And I’m truly sorry.”
Bishop Vincent clucked his tongue. “I’m afraid you will be sorry, my lad. I wouldn’t want to be you right now,” he muttered.
“What was that, sir?”
“Nothing, nothing... just thinking aloud.” He waved at Jack. “Go, then. God be with you.”
“I will, sir. And thank you for understanding.”
Bishop Vincent nodded.
Now for the hardest part. Telling Gillian.
Jack took the brick path through the village and paused on the footbridge over the creek. Pleasant conversation and laughter floated around him, as people came and went to their classes and outings. Musical notes drifted on the breeze as the camp orchestra practiced in the amphitheater. It was a beautiful day. And now he had to go and break the devastating news to one of the sweetest girls he had known. He prayed for wisdom and grace. And peace for Gillian.