Cross the Ocean (15 page)

“I will cross that bridge if and when I come to it,” Gert said.

Elizabeth gave up her quest and fell silent beside Gert on the ride to the docks. Tony rode alongside the carriage a grim look on his face. He blamed himself, Gert knew. And she had time and again absolved him of any wrongdoing. She told Elizabeth and Tony both that Blake had, yes, crawled into her bed, unannounced, but that she had held him there. And she had no regrets. They simply refused to believe her.

At the dock, Gert kissed Elizabeth while they both cried and hugged, promising each other a trip someday to meet again. If nothing else they would remain close through letters. Gert kissed Anthony’s cheek and thanked him.

Tony pulled her close and whispered hoarsely. “If you need anything. Money, a home, anything. You need do nothing more than ask.”

Gert kissed him again. “I know. And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. But I’ll be fine, Anthony.”

She turned to the gangplank while her trunks were carried up to the ship. Blake Sanders stood there.

Gert turned a brave face. “Sanders. You needn’t have made the trip.” Blake walked to her and Gert could see he was pale. His eyes darted and he reached for her hand.

“Gertrude.”

She struggled to meet his eye and keep her lip from trembling. “Yes?”

Blake looked over her shoulder, out to the sea anywhere but her face. “I don’t feel there is anyway for me to convince you to stay.”

“You can’t. My mind is made up.” She watched as he began to speak only to stop abruptly and stare into her eyes.

“I can hardly resign myself to never seeing you again. I have tried. But I fear this ocean and our different lives will be between us forever,” Blake faltered. “If there is anything you ever need....”

Gert nodded as tears spilled down her face.

“You vex me greatly in this, Gertrude.”

Gert smiled. “And you vex me as well. We’ll have memories, though, Blake. And they won’t talk back.”

Blake rubbed her hand softly. “I fear I will miss the sound of your voice even as you chastise me as you were wont to do often.”

“And I will miss the look of shock on your face when you caught me doing something sincerely American,” Gert said and smiled. She lifted her hand to his face. “Know this. I will never ever forget you.

Even when my memory dims.”

Gert turned from Blake, walked the gangplank and never looked back. She felt as if she held up well to the emotional scene but she was terrified if she took one more look at his face she would drop her bag in the bay and race to his arms. Instead, she had stood on deck and watched England fade from view.

Nodding to other passengers and generally acting the part of the spinster escort. She smiled rigidly and made polite conversation.

Gert plopped on her bed in her cabin. I am a grown woman. I chose to engage in sex. I refuse to be a ninny about it all now. Her hand wandered to her stomach and she wondered if even now Blake’s child was growing there. She forced a smile to her lips envisioning her days and work ahead. It was easy and true to admit the longing she had for home. The ranch. The rally to vote. Gert turned her head to the ocean view out the small portal. Maybe she would take some time off from traveling and speech making.

A good couple of months with horses and sunsets would revive her spirits as they always had.

Darkness had descended on the sea. Her cabin now, had a strange glow of twilight. Soft shadows bathed in gold tones. As if the moonlight could roll back time, Gert inhaled deeply and pictured Blake atop her, loving her. Tears came then and she dropped to the pillow. Harsh tortured cries of a mind setting the right path and the soul and body refusing to be led.

“Why, God? Why him? Why Sanders?” Gert cried aloud.

“Miss Finch? Are you all right?”

“Who’s there?” she shouted. From the corner shadows of her cabin, she saw a tall thin figure emerge.

“It’s me, Miss Finch. William. William Sanders. Why are you crying?”

“William! What are you doing here?” she shouted.

He sat down across from Gertrude. “I want to see America, Miss Finch, before father sets me to running the estate.”

“But, William. Your parents are sick with worry, I am sure,” Gert said.

“I left them a note. After what Melinda said about father making her marry that viscount, I knew he’d never let me make a trip.”

“William. Your father agreed to allow Melinda to wait.”

The boy’s face lifted in astonishment. “He did?”

Gert nodded. She had been amazed as well at Sanders’ change of heart. She had sorely misjudged him on their first meeting. Blake’s talk with Melinda had proven that.

“I’ve made a muck of things now. Haven’t I?”

“Well, there’s nothing to be done now. When we arrive in New York, I’ll arrange passage for you back,” Gert said.

“But Miss Finch, if I’ve gone that far, I truly want to see more of your country,” William said.

“We will see. I imagine your father’s on his way to the States this very minute.”

William shook his head. “No. He will send someone for me. I don’t know who, but he’ll not make this trip no matter how angry he is.”

“I don’t believe that,” Gert replied.

“You don’t know him as well as I,” William said miserably. The two sat silently. “Miss Finch, when you first found me, what were you asking God about father for? You were crying.”

Gert blew out a breath. “That I’d never met the man,” she said.

“My mother used to cry when she didn’t think Melinda or I were about. I think father hurt her terribly.

Did he hurt you?”

“It is adult business, William,” Gert replied.

“It has something to do with him kissing you all the time, doesn’t it?” William’s eyes opened wide. “My father didn’t use you ill, did he, Miss Finch?”

William’s tone begged for confirmation that his father was guiltless. “We are adults, William. It serves no purpose for you to speculate. Whatever happened between us is none of your affair.” William’s eyes narrowed and Gert knew he would believe what he wanted. “There is a saying in the States, William. ‘If you don’t like eggs, stay out of the henhouse.’”

* * * *

Blake stayed a week in London after Gertrude’s ship sailed but not at his town home where she and Anthony and Elizabeth had stayed for Melinda’s come-out. It held too many reminders of Gert. The sheets she had slept on and the plates she had eaten from were all there seemingly to remind him of the woman who had just sailed out of his life. He booked a hotel room. A change of scenery would be the thing to rally his spirits, he had told himself. Blake ate in the grand dining room and was nearly seduced by a young widow. But at the door of her suites, he begged off. Even the low cut of her gown, revealing an acre of bosom had not brought a twinge to his crotch.

* * * *

One evening as he walked home from White’s, he heard his name shouted from behind. It had been a week since Gertrude left and he now longed for home. Home and its duties. His estates’ needs would flush from his mind all other thoughts. It always had. He turned in the dark street to see Tony running to him.

“Burroughs? What are you doing here?” Blake called out.

Tony heaved a breath. “I’ve been looking for you since last week. No one’s seen you anywhere until I chanced to stop at White’s. Your staff only said you were staying in town. Where have you been?”

“Taking a much needed rest at the Savoy. I’m leaving for Wexford House tomorrow.” Anthony’s eyes seemed wild. “What’s the matter, Tony?”

“Let’s talk inside,” Anthony said as they entered the hotel.

Blake ushered Anthony to his suites and poured brandy. “You look like you need this, Burroughs.

Elizabeth’s alright, isn’t she?”

“Fine.”

Blake’s spine tingled. “What is it then?”

“I don’t know how to tell you, Blake,” Anthony said.

Blake gulped and his face whitened. “The children. Are the children alright?”

Tony’s head didn’t move. “No.”

Blake jumped from his seat and grabbed his friend by the arms. “What is it?”

“William.”

“What’s happened then? Did he fall riding? Is he sick? Tell me, man,” Blake screamed.

“He’s gone,” Anthony replied.

Blake blinked. “What do you mean gone?”

Anthony pulled a letter from his pocket. “He’s been gone for a week. We’ve been frantic, searching for you and for him. Benson found this in your rooms today. It had fallen behind the dresser.”

Blake opened the letter and saw his son’s writing. His hands shook and he roared.

Chapter Ten

Blake rode hell bent for leather with Anthony by his side. When Benson opened the door, Melinda threw herself in his arms.

“Daddy! What did the letter say? Uncle Anthony wouldn’t let us open it.”

When he untangled himself he saw the rest of his guests. All worried and grim faced. Elizabeth, Donald, Briggs, Mrs. Wickham. To the side stood Ann, a stout man and Lady Katherine.

His ex-wife came forward. “Tell us, Blake. Please,” Ann begged.

“He’s safe. For now. Let me change and we’ll discuss it the library.” Blake eyed Ann and her tear-stained face. The stout man approached.

“I’m Angus McDonald. If it means you’re more comfortable and Ann can stay, I’ll leave. I’ll do what you ask, anything if it means relief for Ann and the rescue of your boy.”

Blake heard the soft brogue and met McDonald’s eye. The man didn’t waver an inch. “Stay. The children need their mother,” Blake said to Ann’s red face now buried in the burly man’s shoulder.

McDonald made one quick nod.

Blake returned to the library quickly. Every head turned and conversation stopped when he entered.

“William is on a ship bound for America.”

There was silence and then a torrent of questions. Had he been kidnapped? What did the letter say?

Was there a ransom note? Why America? Blake held his hand up for silence. “William is a stowaway.

On Gertrude Finch’s ship.”

“My grandson does not need to be a stowaway. He could buy the damn boat if he wanted,” Lady Katherine said. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, Ann. I can swear like a docks man when riled.”

The only one in the room not talking and shouting questions was Melinda. She was stone-faced, rubbing her hands in her lap. Blake went to sit beside her. He picked up her hand, now trembling. “Tell me, Melinda. What do you know?”

Melinda’s eyes darted to all those around her. “It is my fault.” She burst into tears.

Ann sat on the other side of her daughter. “Why do you say that, dear?”

The girl struggled and whimpered. “I was so mad at you, Father, when you told me I had to marry the Crawford viscount.”

Blake met Ann’s eyes over Melinda’s head and saw the censure there. “I told you, Melinda. You needn’t hurry with a marriage,” he said.

“Before you talked to me that night when Miss Finch was there, I spoke to William,” Melinda said.

Ann brushed hair away from her daughter’s face. “What did you say?”

Melinda dropped her head. All was quiet in the room. Blake and Ann leaned close to hear her tortured, whispered words.

“William was so excited about the tales Miss Finch had told of the States. He told me that he was going to ask to visit there before going to the university,” Melinda began. “He was furious you made him come home the night of my come-out. He wanted to stay and listen to Gertrude and Fawcett.”

Blake waited. “Go on.”

Melinda stood and faced her parents. “I told him you would never let him.” She looked at Blake. “That you would never let your heir out of your sight and control. That … that there was nary a prayer of you letting him see anything but what you wanted him to see.”

Blake looked past and through all in the room. He knew Melinda’s predictions were true. He wouldn’t have let William go and his son knew the truth with his sister’s words. The only chance William had of fulfilling this dream was to escape. Exactly what he had done. He heard Lady Katherine’s harrumph.

“I wouldn’t have let him,” Blake whispered.

“Treated your children and wife the same, Sanders. Prisoners to what you thought would bring you approval from the crowd of jackals in London,” Lady Katherine said.

Blake looked at Ann. She did not speak. Her eyes dropped.

“Well no use squandering time over your bad habits and faults, Sanders. What will you do about William?” Lady Katherine said and arched a brow.

Ann turned to Elizabeth. “Will this woman, Gertrude Finch, watch out for William?” Ann asked.

Elizabeth nodded. “She’ll be shocked, to be sure, to find him. But Gertrude will guard him as if he were her own. She’s sensible and smart.”

Anthony sat down beside Ann. “I wasn’t sure I liked her when she first arrived. But she is loyal and true.” Anthony covered Ann’s hand. “She’ll take care of William. No need to worry on that score.”

“Was she the one that helped with Melinda’s come-out, Mother?” Ann asked.

Lady Katherine nodded. “Did a fine job, too, for being an American. Cut Fitzmontique to the quick at the Smithly ball.” The old woman chuckled. “Said she didn’t dance with men who wore women’s hair.”

“I think I like her already,” Ann replied and grinned shakily to Angus McDonald.

“Oh, you would like her, Mother,” Melinda said. “She has odd ideas to be sure but she was kind to me, listening to me bemoan my problems. And then just as quickly told me to forget what society thinks and hold my head up.”

Ann looked at her daughter. Her eyes dropped in worry. “You mean after … after I went back to stay with Mother.”

Melinda nodded. “I was feeling sorry for myself the day I met her at Elizabeth’s. But she buoyed my spirits admirably and I invited her to dinner.” Melinda laughed then and leaned forward to speak a confidence in a room full of people. “Father kissed her and she punched him in the nose. She marched into the house and drank a glass of whiskey.” Melinda’s eyes opened wide. “Oh, dear.”

Ann’s eyes revealed her shock. “Pardon?”

Elizabeth moved her skirts. “Kissed her again in the foyer of the London home. I thought poor Mrs.

Wickham would have an apoplexy.”

“No need to discuss this lout’s poor behavior. He’s lucky he still lives,” Anthony said.