Distant Dreams (50 page)

Carolina could find no words to speak. She poured out her heart in tears of sorrow, wishing from the depths of her soul that she could change the past and bring Mary back to life. Why should little children die? Why would God turn away His face from their needs and leave them to suffer? Oh, Mary, my sweet baby sister, Carolina silently mourned. How can I bear your loss?

As if reading her mind, James whispered against her ear, “I would give anything to bring her back to you. I would give my life to ease your pain.”

The words shook her almost as much as her grief. She sobered instantly. “Don’t say such a thing!”

“But it’s true,” he insisted. With one arm still around her, he reached up with the other and wiped her tears with his fingers. “I would dry your eyes and give you back your joy, at any price. Any price.”

“Nothing can change the past.” Carolina held his gaze, wondering what it was she read in his intense blue eyes.

“Perhaps not.” Was that sorrow she noted in his eyes? Was he sharing her grief? That must be it.

“James . . . Carolina . . . ?”

Carolina jerked quickly away from James’ embrace to find Virginia coming down the hall.

“What are you doing!” The confusion in Virginia’s voice was mingled with accusation.

“Carolina broke down over Mary,” James said. “Thank God I was here. The poor dear has been keeping back all her grief.”

Virginia gave each an incisive look. Carolina felt guilty, as if there really had been more going on between her and James, as if James had been returning the feelings she had toward him. But that wasn’t so and never would be. He was but a dear friend comforting her in her sorrow.

“Well . . .” Virginia looked afraid for a minute. Then she seemed to shake off the mood, adding, “That was very kind of you, James. I am quite spent myself with grieving. I need your steadying arm as well.”

James appeared to hesitate. He looked long and hard at Carolina, still not moving.

“I’ll be fine,” Carolina managed to speak at last.

“But . . . I . . .” he stammered and looked at her helplessly.

“Thank you for caring,” she said, then pushed past him, desperate to retreat to the privacy of her room. Pausing only a moment, she looked back and saw him turn toward Virginia as she linked her arm firmly through his. They walked away together. As it should be. Without another word Carolina went into her room and closed the door.

54

The Letter

It was properly assumed that James and Virginia’s wedding would be postponed until a suitable period of mourning could pass. This was a saving grace as far as James was concerned. He’d struggled at Oakbridge to confront Virginia with just the right words, but with everyone so stricken over Mary, he simply had not the heart to bring further pain to the family.

Back in Washington and secluded in his childhood room, James knew he had to do something. He felt himself a coward for being unable to confront her in person, but he was not so much a coward to follow through with this loveless marriage of financial convenience. He was at least enough of a man to finally stand up for himself, to pursue the life he wanted. But this decision wasn’t entirely for him. He was thinking of Virginia, too, by saving her from a loveless marriage.

Still, it was highly improper for a proper gentleman to so shame a lady by breaking an engagement. Thus, it was nothing to approach lightly. If he committed such an act, it would no doubt ruin his reputation forever. No decent family would have him. Worse still, it could reflect upon his parents as well. They might be shunned from society. Perhaps his father’s business would suffer. Yet what was that to the prospect of spending the rest of his life living a monumental lie? True, it wouldn’t be the first marriage of convenience; in fact, many marriages were launched in that manner.

It was more than that. It wasn’t merely that he did not love Virginia—he actually had no feelings at all for her. And that was probably worse by far. He did not even like to be around her anymore. The thrill he had once felt at her physical charms had long since dimmed under the glaring reality of her demanding nature. He would simply have to sacrifice too much of himself to form a union with her.

And then there was Carolina . . .

The very thought of her set his entire being into such an excited yet confused state that—well, it was practically sinful to even consider marrying Carolina’s sister. But the idea of actually telling Carolina how he felt was just as appalling, though he had been on the verge of doing so many times. If he did so, Carolina would be scandalized and think far less of him than she did already. What a vicious circle!

There seemed only one course of action for him to take to break from that circle. Pen in hand, he drew a blank sheet of paper before him. He wondered how to properly word it without making matters worse. Dipping the pen in ink he began:

“My dearest Virginia, this is a most difficult letter to write—”

He stopped suddenly and shook his head dismally. He comforted himself with the fact that the time was really quite good. If ever such a tragedy as the death of a child could work for good it was now. Society would believe the marriage postponed because of the death, not canceled altogether. By the time folks began asking questions, Virginia could make it clear that she’d changed her mind. In fact, James reasoned, there would be any number of excuses she could give. Let her tell people her mother needed her, or that her own grief was too great to consider such a celebration. Let her tell them whatever she would, so long as he was no longer expected to marry her.

Still, he struggled even over the salutation. No longer desirous of deceit, he couldn’t call her dearest or regard her with anything but the formality he felt. He balled up the sheet and tossed it to the floor, finally writing nothing more than her name, and then he turned to the heart of the matter.

“I cannot make a mockery of an institution so sacred as marriage,” he wrote. “You deserve a man who can give you the life you desire—a home in the city, a sterling reputation, and an active social life. I have known for some time that I am not that man.” He read over the words. They were formal, harsh . . . but he had never been a man for flowery speeches, even on paper.

“I realize my work at this time is more important to me than anything else. I should have been more clear about this when we became engaged. My heart and interests are bound elsewhere, and therefore I feel I have wronged and misled you. Forgive me, if you can, but I must ask that you release me from our engagement. I will, of course, allow you the privilege of making this your decision so that there need not be any public shame. And I will abide by your choosing a time more appropriate to make your announcement.”

He sat back for a moment and tried to imagine Virginia’s reaction to this missive. She’d not take it well. But her social standing was important to her, and she’d do nothing to jeopardize what other people thought of her. Should she make a scene and declare it to be James who had broken the engagement instead of herself, it would only reflect badly upon her and make her the center of ugly gossip. No, Virginia would do the proper thing, of this he was certain. Nevertheless, he knew she was an unforgiving woman and might risk all that in order to take every possible opportunity to publicly degrade his faithlessness. Either way, people were going to draw their own conclusions. He would be ruined. No secret ever remained hidden forever, and even if Virginia pretended that she had broken the engagement, she, too, would suffer socially. Her own family would be completely appalled that she was rejecting yet another suitor. How long would it be before she denounced him in anger to salve her own conscience and avoid any further personal retribution?

“And so,” he concluded, “in return for your compassion and mercy, I will ease your burden by going west with the railroad. I will be gone for an undetermined time, and hopefully, when I return you will have put this entire matter far behind you and perhaps have married someone more worthy of your love. Sincerely, James.”

He knew he had no choice but to leave. Perhaps his absence would help quiet the gossips. At least that’s what he wanted to think. In reality he knew he was leaving because he simply could not face the consequences of his actions. As far as returning went . . . maybe he would stay away forever. There seemed only one reason for him to return at all, and that was in the hope that he might win Carolina’s love. But it was a vain hope. Once Virginia confessed the truth, Carolina would hate him, as would her entire family. Even if he had the nerve to ask her, she would never agree to marry a man of his reputation, and neither would her father allow a man who’d slighted one daughter to marry another. Such a relationship would destroy Carolina’s social standing. And that he could not do. He thought about what he had said to her after Mary’s funeral—that he would die for her. He felt almost as if he were doing that very thing in leaving.

Sealing the letter, he called up a servant whose discretion could be trusted. “I’d like you to post this letter for me first thing in the morning—better yet, take it to Oakbridge in person tomorrow.”

He then wrote one final letter, this to his parents. When it was finished, he packed up two carpetbags and quietly carried them outside, pausing only to place his parents’ letter in a place where they would easily find it. It was late and his parents were asleep, but still he did not want to take any risks of waking them. He saddled his horse and walked it some distance before mounting and riding away at a brisk trot.

————

Virginia was very properly outraged. It was possible she shed more tears over James’ letter than she had over the death of her sister. But the worst of it was that everyone was still so upset over Mary’s death that no one had much sympathy for her.

“I won’t stand for it!” she cried, knowing full well there was little she could do about it.

Her father tried to soothe her. “No one need ever know it was he who broke off the engagement, Virginia. Unless, of course, you cause such a scene the servants begin to gossip. This is a terrible thing, but you are an Adams, and I have every faith you will meet it with poise and grace.”

“Father, make him marry me! You can do it. There are ways—”

“Is that what you truly want, daughter? A man forced into a union? I don’t think so. You are worthy of better.”

“I’ll be an old maid, Papa! No one will marry me now!”

She wouldn’t be comforted. She stormed from her father’s presence, bemoaning her hapless lot in life. First Mary had to die and force the postponement of her wedding. She was almost certain if that hadn’t happened James would have never had time to back out. She considered going to Washington City herself to make an appeal. He must simply have been struck with pre-wedding jitters. If that didn’t work she concocted another desperate plan. “I’ll pretend to have been compromised,” she schemed to herself. “That would force him to deal with me publicly.” But then word reached Oakbridge that James had packed up his belongings and left town.

There seemed nothing to be done now but to assume the attitude her father had suggested. She would be the refined lady. She would tell everyone that Mary’s death had simply made it impossible for her to leave home in the near future. She felt the only honorable thing to do was to release James of his obligations, seeing that she had no idea when she would be ready for marriage.

Oh, but it galled her to be so graceful when all she really wanted was to tear James’ heart out.

55

Carolina’s Hope

The fifteenth of October dawned as a cold blustery day. Carolina slipped into a woolen petticoat and relished the warmth. The heavy black wool gown, now her daily companion, came on easily but hung rather limply on the frame that had lost so much weight over the last month.

No one had seemed to notice her wasting away. No one, not even her father, had come to her and spoken on the matters of Mary’s death or Margaret’s dark depression. Joseph spent most of every day with his wife, seeking for some way to help her through the mire of confusion that her mind had become. Penny, recovering as well as could be expected, was doted upon by Virginia and Georgia with little need for Carolina’s presence.

James was gone, too. And Carolina found little pleasure in Virginia breaking their engagement. It was rumored that James had been quite devastated by Virginia’s decision and because of this, he’d taken himself away from Washington. She knew James well enough to know he had not done this thing lightly. He was a man of honor and she admired his strength and spirit. It was painful to lose the love of your life. She’d learned that lesson the day James had become engaged to her sister. Yes, James was an honorable man who’d no doubt suffered greatly.

Of course Virginia would never agree with that, and for some reason, her fury was directed somewhat at Carolina.

“That blasted railroad took him from me!” she had yelled at Carolina. “And you encouraged it. What could I do, but break the engagement?”

If only Virginia knew that the railroad had taken James away from Carolina as well. But in that Carolina would have to carry her broken heart in silence. No one would ever know how deeply James’ departure had hurt her.

The days passed in clouded routines that meant nothing and held no hope of ever meaning anything. The time became a kind of madness. The house had fallen again into Virginia’s capable hands without so much as a word between the sisters to announce the occasion. Carolina found the situation frustrating and difficult to bear, but no one else seemed at all affected by the never ending silence.

Taking herself to the library, Carolina looked around her, trying to find some meaning, some comfort. Always before, this was the place where she could feel at peace. But this time was different. These books meant nothing, a startling revelation to be sure. Even now, seeking their solace, Carolina could only stare at the dusty shelves of idle volumes. They were words on paper. Nothing more unless a person chose to give them life. And she had no life to give them. No passion. No heart. No soul.