The Pearl Brooch

by Logan, Katherine Lowry

  She opened the door to the hallway and froze. The Duke was sitting in Thomas’s cabinet, looking suddenly flustered. He coughed lightly and looked inquiringly at her. Then he pushed to his feet, his heeled shoes clacking against the floorboards. “Mademoiselle, I had so hoped to see you.” The rapt eagerness with which the Duke kissed her hand and topped it off with a smile, didn’t reach his calculating eyes taking in everything about her appearance. Self-consciously, she patted the bun at the base of her neck, which she’d hastily pinned up, missing several strands of damp hair.

  “Mr. Jefferson was just telling me you haven’t been feeling well.” The Duke made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “You’re not using those dreadful crutches. Your leg must have improved. You’re much too lovely to be using them.”

  “It’s better, thank you.”

  “Then I hope you’ll consider accepting a commission to paint my portrait.”

  “I’m flattered, Your Grace. I have Monsieur David’s sitting to finish, then General Lafayette and the marquise to paint. If there’s time, I’d be honored to accept your commission.”

  “Then I’ll impress upon General Lafayette to make himself immediately available to you.”

  She turned back toward the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to make myself presentable, but I would like a few minutes of your time before you leave.”

  “We’re finished, Mademoiselle Orsini.” Thomas removed a stack of books from a chair and pulled it up close to her. “Please, have a seat.”

  She patted her hair, hopeless as it was. “I’m really not presentable. Continue with your meeting and I’ll return shortly.”

  The Duke gazed at her, one eyebrow slightly raised as he scrutinized her face. “Mademoiselle, you could wear sackcloth and ashes and you would still be exquisite. Sit down and tell me your concerns.”

  She fiddled with her hands. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have with Thomas present, but it looked like she was stuck. “I was told many years ago about distant relatives in the Scottish Highlands. I was wondering how difficult it would be to find them.”

  The Duke laced his fingers over his ivory silk waistcoat with embroidery on the collar and pockets. “What’s the family name?”

  “Actually, there are two. Digby and MacKlenna.”

  “Those families were involved in the Jacobite rising of ’45. After Culloden the British dismantled the ancient clan structure. Carrying weapons was forbidden. Highland dress was outlawed. Even playing bagpipes was banned. Survivors were imprisoned and eventually transported to America. Twenty years later the Highland Clearances resulted in massive emigration. It’s likely your relatives, if they survived, are in America.”

  There could be no mistaking a sudden jump of Thomas’s eyebrows. “I have acquaintances with those surnames. Seamus Digby practices law in Richmond. James MacKlenna was given a land grant after the late war and settled in Kentucky. They might be your kin or know what became of them. Both men serve as representatives in the Virginia House of Delegates.”

  “Why does Mr. MacKlenna serve in the Virginia House if he lives in Kentucky?”

  “Kentucky isn’t a state yet. It doesn’t have a seat of government.”

  “Oh, I thought it was one of the early states.”

  “Mr. Hamilton pushed the bicameral Congress to admit Kentucky and Vermont to balance the additional northern and southern representation, but Congress was too busy writing new laws, appointing federal judgeships, and deciding on departments in the executive branch. It’s hoped both will be admitted next year.”

  She leaned back in the chair, the rails and spindles made small creaking sounds. Could it possibly be so simple? She slowed her breathing to force calm into her shaking hands as her fluttering heart beat wildly against her stays.

  This James MacKlenna wasn’t the same man who wrote the letter in the brooch box, but he could be… What? A five- or six-times great-grandson. Sophia found that no matter where she traveled in the twenty-first century, everyone on the planet was now connected by three and a half degrees of separation.

  In 1789, it appeared the degree of separation was one.

  “We’ll be spending a few days in Richmond before we travel on to Monticello,” Thomas said. “The House of Delegates will be in session, so I can arrange introductions to both gentlemen.”

  “Would they agree to meet with me?” she asked.

  “You have the advantage there, mademoiselle. Offer to paint their portraits and you’ll have their undivided attention.”

  “I commend you, Ambassador,” she said. “It’s a brilliant plan.”

  The tangible intensity as Thomas gazed at her was the most evocative look he’d ever given her. A glow rose in his face. Whether it was calculated or not, he now knew she had a strong reason to stay in Virginia, which had been his goal all along. If she remained in Richmond to paint their portraits, the weather would be too bad to travel north until the snow melted. But if either Mr. Digby or Mr. MacKlenna could help her, the weather wouldn’t make any difference.

  “When I return to Britain,” the Duke interjected, “I’ll be happy to inquire if there are any Digbys or MacKlennas in the Highlands.”

  “How very kind. Thank you, Your Grace.” She stood, surprised to find her trembling limbs would hold her erect. “I’ll leave you to conclude your business.”

  She returned to her studio, closed the door, and leaned against it. With a Digby and a MacKlenna in America, there was hope she’d find her way back home. When the door to the future finally opened, if it ever did, how sad would she be to leave? A question she couldn’t answer for sure, but if she had to guess, she’d bet her heart would be badly cracked.

  28

  Richmond, VA—JL

  Twenty-four hours after Lawrence’s surgery, JL was enjoying kangaroo care with him. Holding her sweet baby against her chest—skin to skin—was the most wonderful sensation in the world, and the benefits for her son were too numerous to count.

  Finally, she was truly able to bond with him.

  It was extraordinary to hug Kevin and hold Blane—absolutely to the moon and back—amazing. But snuggling with Lawrence was different. There had been horrifying moments when she was afraid she’d never be able to hold him, feel his warmth and, yes, his fragility and his strength.

  Kevin snugged his chair next to her recliner, stroking her head while Lawrence gripped Kevin’s index finger, creating a circle of love. “He settled as soon as his cheek touched your skin. Did you notice? I swear he almost sighed.” Kevin leaned closer and said, in a voice as intimate as a touch, “I know how he feels. I’m jealous.”

  JL kissed her baby’s head. “Don’t worry, Lawrence. Daddy’s not taking your place. You can stay right where you are.”

  Lawrence made a small grunting sound, opened his eyes, then closed them, as if saying, “Okay.”

  “He knows where he is by your scent, your voice, the rhythm of your heart,” Kevin said softly.

  “That’s what Anne said, but I’m not convinced yet. He’s so tiny. He feels as light as one of Blane’s stuffed animals.”

  “He’ll gain weight. A few ounces every day. Which reminds me, be sure to leave your nursing pads in the incubator so he’ll smell you when you’re away.”

  “What a clever idea.”

  She shivered as a chill tingled along her shoulders and arms, and down her back. Her hormones were out of whack, and the air conditioning was set lower than she was used to. “I need a blanket. It’s July and I’m freezing. I don’t know why Lisa doesn’t freeze to death wearing those short sundresses.”

  “Her hormones aren’t screwed up like yours, but it is chilly in here. And I have just the thing.” He dug into his duffle bag and pulled out a Kentucky blue crocheted blanket with a white UK in the center. “Maria just finished this.”

  “I’m surprised it’s not maroon and gold for the Cavaliers.” JL sighed as instant warmth bathed her legs, her hips, her belly.

  Kevin tucked the blan
ket under JL’s feet, which were decked out in pink non-skid hospital socks. “Don’t expect her to switch loyalties until Isabella finds out where she matches. Maria said Isabella’s first choice was the University of Kentucky College of Medicine. If she can do her residency in pediatrics there, she’ll be thrilled.”

  “That’d be perfect,” JL said. “With this family’s herd of kids, having a pediatrician in the family would be awesome.” JL pulled the blanket up a little higher to capture Lawrence in the blanket’s additional warmth. “Will you take a picture to show Maria we’re using her gift?”

  Kevin pulled out his phone. “Smile.” He snapped several pictures of JL, then squatted beside her chair and took a few selfies of the three of them.

  Elsewhere in the room white coats and patterned-print scrubs surrounded Ruth’s incubator. From JL’s position she couldn’t see what they were doing. I hope she’s okay.

  “I do too,” Kevin said.

  JL glared at him. “I didn’t realize I said that out loud.”

  “You didn’t, babe.”

  It still freaked her out that she and Kevin could read each other’s minds. If they were in the bathroom at the same time getting ready for bed, or in the morning before work, they often had head conversations.

  “Before long most of our conversing will be through mental telepathy,” she said.

  “As long as the physical contact doesn’t stop, I can handle that form of communication.”

  JL was warm and toasty, snuggling with her baby, and for a few moments she closed her eyes and knew God was in His Heaven and all was right with the world.

  Kevin traced his finger down her cheek, the side of her neck. “What are you thinking?”

  She smiled. “That right now is a perfect moment, but perfect moments don’t last very long.”

  “Ditch the cynicism. You’re too beautiful to have permanent creases in your forehead.”

  “I think I’ll stay a cynic and just get Dysport injections like everyone else. Besides, I can’t ditch the trait. It’s a counterweight to your eternal optimism. It’s easier to find middle ground when we start at opposite poles.”

  “If you think I’m the eternal optimist, have a longer conversation with Robert Harrison. As worried as Lisa is about the hospital bill, Robert is just the opposite. He had an appointment at the patient accounting office today and had absolute confidence he could work out a payment plan without wiping out his portfolio. He said convincing Lisa everything would be fine was more challenging than dealing with the hospital.”

  “I haven’t seen her in a couple of hours.” JL sighed. “I feel like we’re all riding on the same perpetual Ferris wheel. Every hour one of our cars comes to the bottom, but none of us can get off. This situation is fraught with stress. At least we don’t have money or childcare issues. Our situation is probably unique up here. We need to find a way to help as many parents as we can.”

  “Elliott’s setting up a fund to subsidize one room per pod in the hotel while he’s negotiating a deal to buy it. His plan is to convert it into efficiency apartments just for NICU parents. That should help. And for parents who can’t stay in Richmond, he’s buying cameras so they can watch their preemies around the clock.”

  “When he does something extraordinary like that, I feel so guilty for getting mad at him, but sometimes I can’t help it. He can be so controlling. But as for putting his name on a hotel, I can’t see it,” JL said. “A new wing, yes. An endowed chair, yes. But not a hotel.”

  “When it’s finished, he’ll donate it to the hospital. He’ll get a plaque on the wall and a huge tax write-off.”

  “That will help, but only if he manages the selections so the Harrisons get a room every night.”

  “He’ll figure it out.”

  “I’m sure he will. I noticed he even stuck his nose into Rick’s selection of a catering company for the winery’s reopening event.”

  “Don’t read your emails, JL. They’ll only stress you out more.”

  “Honestly, I need a distraction from constantly worrying about Lawrence. And right now, I don’t have any responsibility for solving the company’s problems, but I need to know what’s going on. You know how I am.”

  “Elliott got involved because Meredith wasn’t happy about using someone from Kenzie’s PTSD support group for the biggest event the winery has ever had. She wanted an established business, but Rick assured her the new company could pull it off, and it was important to Rick to award the contract to a veteran-owned business.”

  “Good for him for standing up to her.”

  Kevin clicked keys on his phone. “If looks have anything to do with competence, then this woman has it in spades. She’s exotic. Tall, lanky brunette with big brown eyes. Her name is Billie Malone.”

  JL looked at the picture on the website. “Billie looks like a frigging model. She’s gorgeous. But she doesn’t look like a Billie Malone.”

  “Her name is Wilhelmina Penelope Malone.”

  Despite JL’s stress she laughed. “Who would do that to a child? It’s worse than Jenny Lynn. Bless her heart. I’d go by Billie, too.”

  “According to the About Me section on her website, the Army Rangers shortened her name to Billie.”

  JL laughed again, and then cooed to Lawrence, apologizing for disturbing him. “Meredith might intimidate a lot of women, but she’ll never intimidate an Army Ranger with a name like Billie Malone.”

  “She never intimidated you.”

  “That’s because when I met her I was wearing an NYPD badge and had a gun in my hand.” Lawrence squirmed again, and this time pooped in his diaper. “Oh, precious baby. Do you feel better?” She glanced up at Kevin. “I don’t think Lawrence liked the part about me carrying a gun.”

  “I don’t either.” Kevin glanced around and spotted Anne working on Ruth. “When Anne finishes, I’ll tell her Lawrence needs changing.”

  “If he’s going back in the incubator, the respiratory therapist has to manage all the cords and connections. Which means once they take him, I won’t get him back.” JL wasn’t ready to let him go, but he needed to be changed.

  She and Kevin were both watching Anne move efficiently around Ruth’s incubator. “I heard something interesting about Robert today.”

  “Must have come from Charlotte. I can’t imagine anyone else talking to you about him.”

  “You’re right,” Kevin said. “You know how she is about history, especially Virginia’s. She said Robert’s ancestor was a general in the Revolutionary War and Speaker of the Virginia House of Delegates when Thomas Jefferson was governor.”

  “I didn’t know Jefferson was a governor. I thought he was just one of those Founding Fathers they made president.”

  Anne came over and knelt next to JL’s chair to get a better look at Lawrence. “Is he doing okay?”

  “He needs to be changed.”

  “As soon as his respiratory therapist gets here, we’ll take care of him.” Anne returned to her desk while JL closed her eyes and rested, enjoying the last few minutes holding her son.

  “I just got a text from Elliott,” Kevin said. “Kit is on her way here to stay with Lawrence, and Elliott will be here in a couple of hours.”

  “Is Cullen coming with her?”

  “Probably. They go everywhere together.”

  The respiratory therapist came over and, working together, she and Anne managed all the cords and tubes with only a few whimpers from Lawrence. JL shivered, missing the featherlike weight and warmth of him on her chest. Once he was back inside the incubator, JL changed his diaper.

  One day you’ll pull up your big-boy pants and run off to find your brother.

  The incubator’s lid closed, severing the mystical oneness with her baby. They were now separated by sheets of plexiglass. A tension headache erupted, bouncing hard between her temples.

  She returned to the recliner and slipped on her shoes. “I need to get something to eat and try to pump my breasts. Let’s go to the hotel and
fix one of Amber’s meals.”

  “I’ll do whatever you want.” Kevin repacked the blanket, zipped up his duffel bag, and slung it over his shoulder. “Where’s your jacket?”

  “If you don’t have it, I must have left it in the moms’ room.”

  He unzipped the bag again and dug through it. “It’s not here.”

  “I’ll go look. Will you call Kit and find out when she’ll get here? I don’t want to leave until she’s in the building.” JL gathered up her purse, bottle of water, and ambled out of the pod. As soon as she rounded the corner, she bumped into Lisa, who was wiping her nose. “Whoa.” JL grabbed Lisa’s arm to steady herself. “Hey, are you okay?”

  Lisa shuddered. “Yeah. I guess.”

  “You don’t look it.”

  Lisa stared at her for a second or two. Then her eyes traveled to some indeterminate spot behind JL and grew distant, as if looking at some past event miles away or days earlier, or…hell, maybe just five minutes ago. Lisa leaned her head and shoulder against the yellow wall, fisted her hands, and sort of gave in to the moment, sighing, shaking her head, twitching her body, the kinds of things a stressed-out person does when they don’t know what else to do.

  JL stood by, tense with concern that Lisa and Robert might have received bad news and Lisa was trying to process what she’d just been told. JL wasn’t fully functioning, and at times she doubted she was even chugging along at fifty percent, but whatever she had to give, she would.

  “What’s going on?” JL asked. “I have connections, and I know people who know people. If I can’t move a stubborn mountain, I know engineers who can.”

  “You’ve got enough on your own plate worrying about Lawrence. You don’t need my junk too.”

  “Look. I’m a cop—retired, but I’m still a cop. We aren’t needed when life is good. People need us when life has gone to shit. Doesn’t matter how much I have on my plate, I always have room for more.”