“Is Hope expecting us?” Adele’s eyes sparkled in the darkened vehicle.
Drew nodded. “She’s most likely fussing with her hair and fretting over the apartment at this very moment.”
“She shouldn’t go to any trouble.” Concern filled Adele’s words. “I want to make her happy, not nervous.”
“Hope likes to fuss. It’s her way.” Drew ran a hand through his hair. Thank goodness, Conway didn’t require anything of him today, and he could wear his favorite wash-worn gray shirt and comfortable black trousers. Adele too had dressed simply, in a cream-colored shirtwaist and brown skirt, none of her usual accessories adorning her neck and ears.
Not that she needed any such adornment. She was lovely without it. A princess still.
“What in Sam Hill…?” Delany’s tone and pointed finger pulled his mind from his musings and his gaze toward the window. Adele pressed one hand against the pane of glass, peering past them both.
In time to see Tony Linley exit the Castle.
At two in the afternoon, no less.
“Was it?” Adele’s tone shook slightly, though not in a nervous, feminine way. More like a person astonished at what they’d just viewed.
“Yes.” Drew and Delany spoke at the same time, the Texan’s tone matter of fact. Drew scrubbed a hand over his jaw.
A sigh exhaled from her lips, weariness in her eyes. “That explains his absences. He came here to America as if he’d changed, but only that first day. Slowly, it seems, he’s slipping back, sliding into his old ways. I smelled brandy on his breath last night. And not a small quantity either.” Her hands writhed in the folds of her skirt, twisting, creasing. She seemed to have forgotten Delany, addressing her speech solely to Drew.
He placed his hands over hers, conjuring words to add to the gesture of comfort. What Adele truly needed was someone to knock some sense into her wayward brother. Something that if Drew did, wouldn’t set well with Conway or the Osbournes. And if Delany…well, Texan or not, the guy would get the sack quicker than he could say “Lone Star State.”
Drew should tell them he’d seen Tony at the same place once before. But doubtless, Adele already suspected it.
“We don’t have to do this, you know.” Her fingers slackened under his hold, relaxing, holding loosely onto his. No gloves sheathed her hands today. And despite the tension of the moment, the softness of her skin made his mouth grow dry. Like silk. No, softer than that. Like fresh-bloomed rose petals, the fragrance she always wore.
“Yes. We do. Hope is expecting us. I’ve endured enough disappointment in my own life and have resolved to do all I can to never inflict it on others. Besides, I can’t change Tony. Goodness knows, I tried while still in England.” She lifted her chin and gently pulled her fingers from his grasp, as if to show him that all was well inside herself.
“You’re sure?” Not that he feared for her sensibilities once they entered the apartment. Though it wasn’t Delaware Avenue, everything was clean, if not somewhat presentable.
“Yes, Miss Linley. Maybe—”
“No.” It took someone of mettle to interrupt Delany, but Adele didn’t seem to care. As if finalizing her words, the carriage halted. She moved toward the door, looking over her shoulder. “I want to make your sister smile. Nothing else matters right now.”
Right now, nothing else mattered but seeing her do that very thing, lips turned up, eyes bright, despite the weariness that lingered there. Though he’d met people of grandeur and consequence over these past weeks, he had yet to find a single person, save her, whose smile could do to a room what a summer sunrise did to the sky.
Delany climbed out next, stooping low to fit through the carriage opening. Drew followed, taking hold of Adele’s elbow, cupping it as they made their way up the flight of narrow stairs. And even though they passed Toothless Tom on the landing, a regular beggar and one who possessed more skin than bones, Adele didn’t once tremble. She simply glanced down at him and gave another smile.
Drew almost shook his head at the wonder of it.
Releasing her arm long enough to unlock the door, Drew opened it. He motioned Adele and Delany to precede him inside and locked it the moment he entered, checking once just to make sure all was secure.
Hope sat in the living room, her gold hair smooth and shining, decked out in her best dress of patterned blue, their mother’s cameo pinned at her throat. Never mind that it probably cost their mother all of twenty-five cents, Hope had polished the little trinket until it gleamed.
Drew’s smile came involuntarily. It would be a true pleasure to introduce these women—his beloved sister and the woman he had so deeply befriended.
Apparently though, a pleasure he was not to enjoy. Adele crossed the room and crouched beside Hope’s chair, meeting her at eye level.
“It’s so wonderful to meet you at last, Miss Dawson! Your brother has sung your praises more than once, and I’m so glad to have this opportunity to finally become acquainted.” If anyone accused the British of being cold and unfeeling, watching Adele would forever set them straight.
“Likewise, Miss Linley.” Hope’s smile, though more subdued, filled with equal warmth. “I’ve been in such a state of anticipation ever since Drew told me you were coming.”
A pitiful understatement. He’d stayed up late, sweeping, beating their single worn rag rug, dusting their scant pieces of furniture, and doing a medley of other tasks. Hope had been his overseer and a determined one at that.
Drew angled a “Didn’t I tell you?” look in Adele’s direction. But she merely quirked a brow at him and turned back to Hope.
“Please, don’t call me Miss Linley. My Christian name is Adele, and I would be honored if you’d use it.”
“My name is Hope. But then Dew already told you that, I’m sure.”
“What did you just call him?” Adele looked from him to Hope and then back again.
Heat crept up his collar, no doubt turning his face a charming shade of tomato red. But he wouldn’t scowl at Hope, not when she looked so happy. Later, however, he’d don the sort of glare created for big brothers to use when reprimanding little sisters. Playfully of course.
“Dew.” Though Hope’s face was utterly serious, mischief danced in her eyes. Drew resisted the urge to roll his. Oh, she was having fun with this, no doubt about that. “It’s what I called him when we were children, and what he still answers to.”
Adele glanced at him, biting her lower lip as if holding back a laugh. “Well, my brother calls me Del, so our nicknames match, eh, Mr. Dawson?”
Drew crossed and playfully tweaked his sister’s ear. “Why don’t you just call us Jack and Jill and be done with it?”
“I like that.” Hope grinned. “I think I will. Jack and Jill and Dew and Del.”
For the first time since they’d entered the apartment, Drew remembered Delany. The man stood against the wall, his frame too big for the matchbox-size room. Yet he didn’t look ill at ease.
Drew watched the man for several seconds. Not once had Delany taken his gaze from Hope. He stared at her, as if a fairy had turned him into a statue, caught him under a spell.
Had the guy never seen a person in a wheelchair before? Staring like that might be allowed in uncivilized Texas, but in New York, it was just plain impolite.
“Hope. This is Mr. Delany. He came with Miss Linley, as a…well, to keep the carriage safe.”
Hope and Adele stopped their chatter, both feminine gazes landing on Delany. Who, Drew couldn’t quell a smirk, turned a vibrant hue of red.
“How kind of you to join us, Mr. Delany.” Hope’s tone was as gracious as any Buffalo socialite, yet rang with a thousand times more sweetness.
“Uh…” Delany cleared his throat. “Umm…”
Drew, a funambulist, had been unable to even so much as faze the brawny Texan. He’d had plenty of words on their street meeting. But he’d either used them all up or lost the power of speech.
“Pleasure, miss.” Delany jerked a nod, hi
s Adam’s apple bobbing. “I think I’ll step outside for a second, Dawson. Check on the coachman.” He wheeled around and unbarred the door, exiting quicker than a seasoned pickpocket stealing a watch.
Hope gave a little laugh.
Drew glanced at Adele. She’d sat back on her heels, eyes wide, as if the scene before her was as foreign as a Frenchman in Brazil. Though she still smiled, her gaze had taken on a faraway, almost troubled, look.
“You doing all right?” Drew asked.
Adele stood, filling the room with her regal height, the scent of roses. “It’s just…so sweet to see the two of you together, laughing, acting as brother and sister should.” The instant a tremble shook her chin, Drew was at her side. He placed a hand on her arm. Something happened to the emotions when the threads of family worked themselves into knots. For it was those that shaped one’s formative years that made one most vulnerable.
Closing her eyes, she drew in a breath. Held it for the space of a second, before her exhale whooshed out. Then she opened her eyes, as if pasting her composure back into place.
“I’m sorry about that.” She smiled first at Hope, then at him. “Something must come over people when they set foot in here. First Mr. Delany, now me.”
He squeezed her arm gently. “You don’t have to apologize. Around here, we don’t let our emotions shame us. Not like where you come from.”
“Of course not.” Hope wheeled her chair and stopped it next to the other seat. “Please, sit down, Adele.”
Adele brushed past him, joining Hope.
Drew dragged the hard, straight-backed chair that made up the whole of their seating options from the kitchen. Planting his feet on the floor, he let his hands fall loosely between his knees.
“Now then. Who in your family made you look so sad?” Hope fixed Adele with one of those no-nonsense looks so at variance with her usually gentle expression.
Adele shook her head. “It’s of no consequence. Truly.”
Drew leaned back as much as he was able, trying to get comfortable in spite of the hard slats of wood poking into his back. Watching which of these stubborn women would prove most so, was bound to be almost as interesting as watching Delany lose his vocal powers.
“It is if it matters to you.” Hope’s tone gentled, though probably not her persistence.
Adele sighed. “I came to meet you, Miss…er, Hope. Not to talk about troubles that would prove as unpleasant to hear as it would for me to tell them. But if you must know, my brother has recently arrived in America and is beginning to make me wish he’d stayed home. I’m not sure exactly what he’s doing but am certain there’s something going on. Watching you and your brother together just made me a bit wistful, is all. You are truly fortunate to have his love and support, Hope. I’m sure you already know that, but it’s the sure and certain truth.”
Hearing Adele speak of him in such terms made guilt lance his insides. He didn’t deserve praise like that. All he’d done was his best, and how good that best had been was soon to be put to the ultimate test. Maybe, if he emerged victorious, he’d sift through her words again. Let them take root, water the parched soil inside him with droplets of truth.
But until that day came, he didn’t merit the confidence of his sister, though he had it all the same. Wasn’t worthy of bringing that note into Adele’s voice, a tone that declared she meant every word.
“I know that already, Adele. And I’m glad you do too.” Hope’s eyes turned to him, love brimming from their depths. “He’s spoken of you too.” Sudden mischief played in her gaze as she fixed it on Adele.
“And what did he tell you? I hope it wasn’t too alarming.” Though circumstance would have declared them socially unequal, and the differences in their manner and dress did just that, the two women grinned at each other as if they’d been friends for all their lives.
Another reason why society was ridiculous.
And Adele was remarkable.
“Not at all. Give me a moment to think on exactly what he said. I don’t want to mislead you with a single word.” Hope tapped a finger against her cheek.
Hope might have forgotten, but the exact phrasing of his words remained at the forefront of Drew’s memory. Hearing his sister say those things to Adele would undoubtedly mislead her. And bring up questions he wasn’t sure he could answer.
“I’ll tell you what I said.” Drew stood. Both ladies looked up at him, as if awaiting some great orator to begin a presentation. “I told my sister that we have a guest standing outside. And right now, it’s teatime, and I’m hungry, and there are sweet rolls in the kitchen calling my name with clashing cymbals.” He headed for the kitchen, tea and sweet rolls his foremost mission, retrieving Delany the second.
All the while strongly doubting that the women in the parlor would forgo further chatter, and hoping his sister would show mercy and come up with a suitable answer.
One that omitted any talk of princesses and emerald eyes.
Stand your ground. Demand the truth. I know you can succeed, Adele Linley.
Drew had obviously overestimated her abilities. It was one thing to discuss confronting her brother on the carriage ride home, Drew’s smile feeding her confidence. Quite another to actually stand face-to-face with Tony and demand answers he didn’t intend to give.
“I know you’ve been at that gaming house.” The dimly lit library provided a backdrop for their test of wills. Adele stood, back to the hearth. Tony lounged in a leather chair, tossing a thin volume back and forth between his hands.
“Just how do you know that, Del? Taken up gambling yourself, have you?”
“I…someone saw you. An acquaintance of mine who passed the information on to me. That’s how.”
“How do you know they were telling the truth? How do they know it was me?” From one hand to the other went the volume in his hands. A bored expression encompassed his face. As if her concerns mattered less than a pesky insect, meant to be swatted away.
Or if that didn’t avail—squashed.
“They recognized you at once.” She smoothed a hand down the front of her emerald evening dress, trying to fade the wrinkles she’d twisted into the fabric while waiting for Tony to come down.
“And who do you mean by ‘they’?” The noise of hoofbeats and carriage wheels clattered outside the window, their rhythm as precise as his words were nonchalant.
“You’re stalling, Tony. Why won’t you admit where you were and why you went there? I thought you’d put all that behind you.” She crossed to his side and knelt in front of his chair, looking up into his face, trying to put a motherly expression on her own. What she wouldn’t give to believe Tony’s lies, that he hadn’t really visited the Castle that day. It would make things so much easier, simpler, just to accept the paltry explanation her brother offered and let that be the end of it.
But life wasn’t like that. To live hiding one’s face behind one’s hands, hearing only what one wanted was nothing less than sheer denial. Though Tony might prefer it, she certainly didn’t. Reality was reality, and the sooner her brother realized it, the closer he came to rehabilitation.
“All right. I admit it.” He dropped the book on the side table. It made a slapping sound as it landed. Tony stood, nearly plowing into her, and paced to the mantel. She turned to look at him. “I was at the Castle. There. I’ve said it. Satisfied?” He ran a hand through his freshly combed hair and faced the mirror above the mantel, angling to the side to better view his profile. “Now, perhaps we can forget all about this conversation and join the rest of the family in the drawing room.”
She stood and crossed to him. Placed a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t turn around, gaze on the mirror as if intent upon ferreting out every defect in his appearance.
“We can’t just forget, Tony. Much as you, or I, or everyone else might want to. The real world doesn’t work like that.” Drew Dawson’s world certainly didn’t. Every day, he woke up and faced life with all its problems and complexities. His sister’s w
heelchair-bound state. His need for money. The realization that every day brought him closer to taking his life in his own hands and playing a game of chance with it.
But Tony wasn’t Drew. “The real world. And what would my little sister know of such tiresome matters?” He turned slightly, giving her the sort of look a parent might give a child who tried to act grown-up. Amused, indulgent, but lacking serious consideration.
She lifted her chin, words on the tip of her tongue. It would have been so easy to let them fly, arrows hitting their target.
And what do you know of such matters, Tony Linley? Tell me that. Where were you all those long nights I sat up studying the expense ledgers? Or telling yet another servant we couldn’t afford to keep them on? Oh, I know exactly where you were. Out, squandering the very income I was trying so hard to conserve.
The arrows would hit their mark. But they’d wound. And much as it would have given her release to say them, she didn’t want to contend with the wreckage that followed. Just like Mother had always restrained herself from telling Father her true feelings. When Adele had asked why her mother didn’t remonstrate before her father set out on yet another neck or nothing scheme, her mother simply said that it wasn’t a woman’s place to intervene in the affairs and doings of men. Such sentiments had always chafed Adele.
Once more, she was reminded of Drew, counseling her to tell Tony the truth.
“I know a great deal more than you. I don’t know what you think I’ve been doing in America, but I haven’t been here to enjoy the scintillating conversation and Yankee hospitality. All that I have done has been with the aim of pulling our family back from the brink. So think of that before you make bold statements. And before you jaunt off on yet another one of your excursions!” She lifted her chin. Mother would have thought her unladylike, even sinful for such boldness. Women were meant to be seen and not heard, an ornament without a mind of their own.
My Heart Belongs in Niagara Falls, New York Page 13