A Hope Beyond (9 page)
There was simply too much at stake to find himself on the bad side of Joseph Adams. He was weaning himself rather rapidly away from the banking industry, knowing without a doubt that his days in that field were numbered. His bank was failing miserably, and it was only a matter of time until someone started a run on coins versus paper bank notes and the bank would fold altogether. And why? Because there simply wasn’t enough capital to back the bank drafts.
He’d given it a good go, however. He’d managed to employ his brother Samuel to assist in locating a good counterfeiter and, with the aid of that man, had padded his losses with forged bank notes. It had been all too simple. The forgeries were of the highest quality, and because Leland owned the bank, no one questioned his operation. Of course, the forged drafts were drawn against other banks, and Leland had but to flood the marketplace with the counterfeits in order to benefit himself. As rival banks found themselves inundated with the forgeries, they had little choice but to fold up their operations, leaving more and more federal deposits to be placed with Leland. But now, even those days were numbered, and Leland knew the best thing to do was to move on.
The pain in his chest subsided, and Leland shifted his weight gingerly to prop his foot on the carriage seat. He cursed his age and weight and then cursed his own foolishness at not taking better care of himself.
Everything had gotten beyond his control. James. The bank. His life. It seemed as though everything had been tossed into the air and left to fall where it might. And that was something Leland could not afford to allow. He had to retain control. Especially of the railroad schemes.
Railroads were the new rage of the age, and while Leland thought them a terrible waste of honest efforts, he could see a possibility of profit in dishonest dealings. He could still remember Joseph approaching him at the celebration of the B&O Railroad’s new Washington Branch.
Had it really been only a year ago, last August? It seemed as though an eternity had passed.
Joseph had taken an immediate liking to the railroad, but Leland had cautioned him to move slowly. Now Leland was the one pressing things forward, and that had all come about by the realization that there was a profit to be made with very little risk. Little risk, because Leland never intended for the investors’ money to pass any further than his own pockets. People were fools. They were greedy and hungry for “get-rich-quick” schemes. And Leland was only too happy to oblige them. It quickly became apparent that Leland could propose plans for a great many railroads. On paper, they would appear quite legitimate. On paper, he would have the facts and figures, surveys and designs, all arranged to present a perfectly ordered picture. And thus, Leland’s schemes were brought to life, and paper railroads became his new means of support.
Even the proposed P&GF Railroad was nothing more than paper. Oh, he made it appear to be more. The certificates had been a nice touch, he thought, and they were a good means to promote the proposed line. With the prestigious names of Adams and Baldwin on the intricately designed stock, investors were not hard to talk out of their money. It was also to Leland’s benefit that the actual creation of a rail line was a long, drawn-out process of obtaining state charters, detailing surveys, and purchasing land. Not to mention that most of the equipment used in building such a line would have to come from England. It could literally take years until ground-breaking ceremonies were a reality. So it was just a matter of keeping the investors satisfied that plans were actually moving forward, in spite of the visual lack of evidence.
But none of this concerned him half as much as how he might encourage Joseph Adams to take less of a personal interest in the running of the P&GF Railroad. It would be impossible to keep the thing strictly a paper railroad if Joseph kept such an active hand in the project. Then, too, Carolina Adams could prove to be just as big of a problem for him. He would have to somehow figure a way to occupy her so that she wouldn’t be wise to his conniving. He pondered this matter for a time before dozing off to the jostling of the carriage. His last conscious thoughts were of his wayward son and the unexpected void his absence had created.
A week after Hampton Cabot had kissed her, Carolina still found it nearly impossible to eat, think, or sleep properly. Having tossed and turned most of the night, she sighed and forced herself to sit up in bed. She was exhausted in trying to dispel the strange emotions and sensations that crept upon her when she least expected it.
I’m not in love with Hampton, she reasoned. I just can’t be. She fell back against the bed pillows and tried to rationalize her turmoil. It was just a kiss. One kiss. My first kiss.
“That must be it!” she said and jumped out of bed. “It lingers in my mind because Hampton was the first man to really kiss me.”
She paced her room, the nightgown of white lawn flaring out behind her. For days now she’d been nearly heartsick. She’d been confident that she was in love with James Baldwin, but when Hampton kissed her it created a shadow of doubt in her mind. It was almost as if someone had placed a veil between her heart and the memories of James.
She flung open the wardrobe doors and studied her day dresses for a moment before choosing a dark plum-colored wool. Chilled to the bone, Carolina quickly dressed herself and was pulling on heavy black stockings when Miriam appeared.
“I s’pose yo didn’t sleep a wink last night neither,” Miriam said, throwing back Carolina’s curtains. “Yo’s gwanna run yo’self into a grave, Miz Carolina, iffen yo don get mo rest and food.”
Carolina dismissed her worry. “These have been hard times, Miriam. Don’t pretend with me that your rest comes any easier. And I’ve noticed that your waistline is considerably smaller than before Mary died.”
Miriam nodded. “Times is hard and that’s a fact.”
Carolina took a chair at her dressing table and allowed Miriam to comb her dark brown hair into a simple chignon. Her mind trailed back to her earlier thoughts as Miriam worked in silence. Hampton wanted her, of that there was no question. But for what reasons, she was uncertain.
I’m from a good family, she rationalized. But then, so was he. He’d been orphaned and taken under her father’s wing some years ago, and through Joseph’s trust and tutelage, Hampton had matured and gained the highly respectable position of being the family’s commission merchant. She knew that her father paid Hampton quite well, so she doubted money would be the sole motivation for a proposal. But Hampton also looked at her in a way that she’d seen other men look at Virginia. It was a look that many called passionate, but to others it was pure and simple lust.
Miriam finished with Carolina’s hair and left to attend to Virginia and Georgia. Carolina moved across the room to look at her reflection in the cheval mirror. She had definitely blossomed into a woman. She ran her hands down the curving sides of her body and found a shapeliness there that even a year ago had been far less evident.
She smiled, remembering an overheard conversation at church when Mrs. Milford had commented to Mrs. Wilmington that Virginia Adams was quickly being overtaken by her younger sisters and would soon no longer be the belle of the county. Of course, at the time Carolina had presumed the comment to be more intended for fourteen-year-old Georgia Adams, who had made it her goal to break every heart within a fifty-mile radius.
Thinking of Georgia, Carolina frowned. She saw something distasteful in the way her little sister treated people, but especially in the way she treated men. Georgia seemed to flirt without shame and make promises with her eyes that she could never begin to keep.
Carolina had tried to talk to her, but Georgia had snapped that if she was going to die young, she would do it only after having lived a full life. Carolina had tried to assure her that she wasn’t going to die young, but Georgia would hear nothing of it. She pointed out that Mary was already gone and Penny lay sick in bed, so she wasn’t about to take any chances.
If their mother had been given to more days of clarity and sense than to depression and forgetfulness, Carolina knew that Georgia would never have been allowed such behavior. Their father was too overworked and busy to take seriously the gossip about his children. After all, Carolina thought, the gossip about her desire to further her education and play a part in the railroad hadn’t phased Joseph Adams at all. He couldn’t abide gossip and gave it no credence whatsoever.
“Don’t tell me you’re too busy to bid your big brother good morning,” a voice called from the open bedroom door.
“York!” Carolina squealed in delight and ran to embrace her favorite brother. Wrapping her arms around him she exclaimed, “I didn’t know you were coming home!”
He easily lifted her and walked into the room, spinning her around several times before setting her back down. At twenty-two, York Adams cut a dashing figure. Lean and medium in height, his brown-black hair and steely blue eyes resembled that of their father’s. Some said he was the spitting image of a younger Joseph Adams, and York very much liked the idea and took it as a high compliment.
“Thought I’d surprise everyone. My, but don’t you look all grown up. I swear, if I weren’t your brother, I’d be running after you like everyone else.”
Carolina waved away his declaration. “No one is running after me.”
“No one?” York asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “That’s not what I heard.”
Carolina smiled. “So, tell me what you heard.”
“Oh,” he said, looking up at the ceiling, “it will cost you.”
“Cost me what?” Carolina asked in a tone of disbelief. “York Adams, after years of keeping silent about your misbehaving deeds, I think you owe me plenty.”
York laughed. “All right, have it your way.” He sat down on the bed and leaned back on his elbows. “Talk in Washington is that you and Hampton Cabot are quite an item.” Carolina blushed and York grinned. “I guess I heard right.”
“No, you did not. Hampton fancies himself interested in courting me, but I have not given him any indication that I feel the same.”
“Well, folks said you two were dancing up a storm at the charity ball. I was supposed to be there that night, but President Jackson needed me more at the White House. You do realize he’s not been well?”
“Father told me,” Carolina said solemnly. “I hope it isn’t serious. I truly like that man.”
“And he is quite taken with you. Told me to invite you to the White House Christmas party.”
“What!”
“It’s true.” York glanced up with a look that suggested he’d not said anything of any consequence whatsoever. “That’s why I’m here.”
Carolina gasped. “I can’t believe it. He really invited me?”
“He did indeed. He said that he knew I fancied the company of a particular young woman in Washington, but since she would be accompanying her father to the party, why didn’t I bring my lovely sister Carolina.”
“I’m so honored!” Carolina said, coming to sit beside him on the bed. “The President has invited me to the White House.” The awe in her voice was evident. Then without warning, she jumped back up and confronted York. “What particular young woman have you fancied the company of?”
York threw her a lazy expression. “I wondered if you would catch on to that.”
“Of course I would. Now tell me everything. Who is she?”
“Her name is Lucille, but I call her Lucy. She’s the daughter of Henry Alexander, a congressman from Pennsylvania.”
“I see. How did you meet?” she asked and once again sat down beside him.
“We met at a White House function. She attended with her father. She’s acted as hostess and escort to him since the death of her mother several years ago. We were seated side by side at dinner and naturally fell into conversation.”
“I’m sure that was a tremendous burden for you to bear,” Carolina said with a laugh. “What does she look like?”
York rolled over on his side, and the look on his face was one of pure adoration. “She’s beautiful, Carolina. Dark eyes and black hair and skin the color of fresh cream. And she’s quite besot with love for me.”
“Love?” she questioned. “Are you sure it’s love?”
“Very much so,” York replied without seeming to have any misgivings.
“And . . . well . . . do you love her?”
York sobered. “Quite deeply.”
Carolina found an unexpected interest in this turn of their conversation. Naturally, she was very excited about her brother’s love for Lucy Alexander, but more so she realized York might help her to better understand her own feelings.
“How do you know it’s really love?” she probed.
York drew a deep breath and appeared to think on this question for a moment. “Because when I wake up, it’s Lucy I think about first. And it’s Lucy I consider throughout the day, and it’s her face I see when I close my eyes at night.”
“And that’s how you know it’s love?” Carolina questioned in a doubtful tone.
“That and other reasons. Lucy and I were meant for each other. We share many of the same interests and ideals. Lucy was brought up in a very politically active home, and politics and government are in her blood. She’d never balk at living in Washington, although it has been called an uncivilized town not fit for ladies. She’s lived in the city with her father, sharing a small rented house and acting as his hostess when he entertains diplomats and other officials, and she would be a tremendous asset to my career.”
“And that’s why you love her?”
York chuckled. “No . . . well, maybe in part. But only because it goes hand in hand with what I said about her sharing my interests. I could never love a woman who feared public life and desired nothing more than a quiet plantation owner for a husband. But to answer your question, I love Lucy mostly because . . . well . . . because she’s Lucy.” He grinned at her as if his words explained all of the mysteries of the world.
Carolina bit her lip and pondered this information for a moment. She couldn’t very well ask York about Hampton’s kiss. York would find it totally out of line that Hampton had taken such liberties, and who knew what might follow after that? But she wanted so much for York to explain to her why she could still feel Hampton’s lips upon her own, and why even the memory of that first kiss caused her heart to race as it was doing just then.
