Love and Dreams: The Coltrane Saga, Book 6 (21 page)

She walked away in a huff, head held high, and Bryan was delighted. Her explosion, he knew, was a good sign that she was jealous of Marnia’s memory, which meant, of course, that she cared about him.

He took her to the opposite end of the house where a huge room combined parlor and bedroom, and there was also a balcony from which she could enjoy a view of the river.

He showed her around, kissed her, then hesitantly asked, “I don’t suppose you want to use any of Marnia’s things?”

“Absolutely not,” she fired back at him. “Tomorrow, I want to go find that bank where Colt had my money deposited, and then I’m going shopping to buy my own wardrobe.”

Again he was pleased. He held her at arm’s length and whispered, “I’ll leave you now. Remember, I love you, and anything you want is fine with me.”

He turned to go, but she called out to him, ready to deal with what had to be done. “Please make arrangements tomorrow to do what you promised.”

He nodded, already planning to contact a private detective agency the minute he got to his office in the city so that the search could begin. Until Jade was convinced Colt was dead, Bryan knew her heart would never be free.

The next morning they took the train into Manhattan. Jade insisted on going into the bank alone; Bryan remained outside in the hackney.

She glanced around at the unfamiliar surroundings, having never in her life been inside a bank before, having never had the need. A man passing noted her hesitancy and paused to ask if he might be of assistance. She explained she needed to talk with someone about her account there, and he pointed to a man sitting behind a desk positioned along one wall.

She walked over, and he got to his feet, gestured to a chair beside his desk as he introduced himself. “Mallory Curtin, vice president. How may I help you, miss?”

He seemed nice, anxious to help, Jade decided, feeling more at ease. She gave him her name—Jade O’Bannon Coltrane—then explained, “My husband had money placed in this bank in an account in my name. I’d like to find out whether it’s still here.”

He laughed. “Well, why wouldn’t it be? We’ve never had a robbery here that I know about. Let me get some more information from you, and I’ll see what I can find out.”

Jade chided herself for being so nervous but knew she’d be embarrassed if the funds had been claimed by the Romanovs after being notified of her “death”. Mr. Curtin might call the police, thinking her some kind of imposter attempting to steal a dead person’s money.

Soon, however, Jade learned she had nothing to fear. She filled out a form; then he took it and left his desk to disappear through a door at the rear of the bank. He was gone perhaps five minutes, returning with a respectful smile and an impressed gleam in his eye. After he handed her a slip of paper, she stared down at the astonishingly large amount he’d printed on it, only vaguely heard him declare, obviously awed, “That’s quite a bit of money for a young lady to manage. Perhaps you’d like to discuss some financial planning?”

“Later,” she murmured and got to her feet. Suddenly she was no longer nervous or unsure of herself. Seeing in black-and-white the true scope of her financial independence gave her new vigor and determination. She thanked him and said she’d like to make a small cash withdrawal.

When she related to Bryan that her money was still on deposit, he said he was pleased for her sake but pointed out, “Don’t you think the Romanovs are going to be shocked when they attempt to claim it and find out you’re very much alive?”

“I’m going to write to them and let them know it was all a terrible mistake,” she quickly informed him. “They’ll be surprised, no doubt, but happy. I’ll also ask them not to tell the Coltranes.”

“Why not let the Coltranes know, too?”

She shook her head soberly. “As much as I love them, it’s better they think me dead along with Colt. To let them know otherwise, as I told you before, might be too big a shock for Mr. Coltrane, and I’ll probably never see any of them again, anyway.”

They went on their way, Jade to shop, Bryan to his office.

In the days that followed, despite the dispirited reason she’d come to New York, Jade was enthralled with all she saw. Bryan found that he had many items on his desk that needed his attention but still took time to show her around the city.

A rapid transit system for commuters was becoming a reality on Manhattan Island. The Hudson River Railroad became elevated on its approach to the bustling city, traversing some of its worst slums—the puffing engines showering soot and cinders and fiery sparks that sometimes set fire to the rotting wood shingles of the tenement roofs along the route.

Jade realized that New York was far ahead of even the great European capitals in modern inventions, particularly in lighting and communications. Electricity as well as gas was used in illumination, and then there was that marvelous new miracle—the telephone! There was even news that a man named Henry Ford was building something called a horseless carriage reportedly capable of traveling at the astounding speed of twenty miles an hour!

Fashion decreed prominent bosoms, hips, tightly constricted waists for women—an unnatural hourglass shape. Tailored suits were the rage, as well as dainty and frilly underwear. There were small hats set on top of the head and decorated with the plumage of exotic birds. Hair was long and worn high with waves frothing around the forehead.

For men, there were top hats and derbies. Sportiness decreed gay blazers and cricket caps, and then there were straw hats and high-buttoned coats. Almost every man of gentle birth wore a heavy gold watch chain or black ribbon fobs with gold-encased jewels.

A strict code of etiquette decreed rigid rules for all social behavior. Jade was glad that Mina lived in the house with them, in her own quarters; otherwise it would have been shocking for her to be there, unchaperoned, with Bryan. She was astonished when, only three days after their arrival, two lemon-faced ladies from Bryan’s church came to call, and one of them came right out and bluntly asked whether the housekeeper stayed at night. She bit her tongue to keep from asking what business it was of theirs, managing to coolly give them the reply that brought approving nods.

One evening Bryan took her to a minstrel show, and Jade was astounded to see white men with burnt cork on their faces to color them like a Negro. In elegant costumes, they sang a blend of sweet ballads, did some shuffling dances, and offered deep-dish humor.

Jade loved the city, the excitement of just being alive in such a fascinating time, but there was not a single moment of any day that she forgot the real reason for being there. Finally, after a week, while in the midst of shopping one day, she decided the time had come to end the suspense. She went to Bryan’s office intending to tell him that if the detectives he had hired had still not been able to learn the truth, then she was going on her own to the Vanderbilt offices, wherever they were, and conduct her own investigation.

Bryan’s secretary was not at her desk, so she went over to knock on the closed door to his private office. When there was no response, she hesitantly eased the door open to see him sitting behind his desk. He was so preoccupied with a folder he held in his hands that he had not heard her come in.

She called to him softly. “Bryan? I’m sorry to intrude…”

Slowly, he lifted his gaze from the folder to stare at her, but blankly, as though he didn’t recognize her. Then he shook his head sharply. “Jade. Sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”

He laid the folder aside, gestured for her to sit down.

His smile, she noted, seemed false, forced, and when he spoke, his voice was strained.

“So you’ve honored me with a surprise visit? Can I celebrate by taking you to lunch?”

She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “I’m tired of waiting for your detectives, Bryan. I’m going to the Vanderbilt office and see what I can find out myself.”

He got up and went to stand at the long, narrow window behind his desk, hands solemnly folded behind his back as he stared at the sprawling city below. Snow had begun to fall gently, painting the landscape a ghostly white in the late afternoon glow.

Jade tensed. Something was wrong. “Did I come at a bad time?” she asked worriedly.

He turned to face her, blue eyes cloudy, misty. He was staring at her so strangely she thought she’d scream if he didn’t tell her what was going on. Finally he said in a somber voice, “It won’t be necessary for you to go to the Vanderbilts, Jade.”

She blinked, bewildered, and just as it dawned on her what he meant, he nodded to the folder on his desk.

“The report from the detective agency I hired,” he said in a voice so cold and ominous it might have echoed from a tomb.

“Your quest, it seems, is over.”

Chapter Seventeen

Jade felt herself swaying dizzily, and with shaking hands, reached out to clutch the leather chair positioned in front of Bryan’s desk lest she collapse and fall. The words he had just spoken paraded in singsong fashion before her bedazzled mind:
the quest was over…over…over…

She tried to speak, but only soft gasps escaped her tightly constricted throat. Oh, why was he torturing her this way? Why was he making her wait in unbearable anguish to learn whether Colt was alive or dead? Bryan was one of the kindest and most compassionate men she had ever known, and it was totally out of character for him to deliberately make anyone agonize. So why now? Her lips quivered as she attempted to plead for the suspense to end. With great effort she held out a trembling hand to him, like a beggar pleading for alms, but he did not see and was once more staring out the window, locking his gaze upon the exciting and rapidly growing brick and mortar world that was New York City.

At last, he turned to meet her desperate gaze. She saw that his eyes were doleful, melancholy, and she could see within the cerulean depths other emotions as well—disquietude, dread, but also the ever-present warmth of the love and affection she sensed, beyond a doubt, that he felt for her.

He closed his eyes for a moment, as though to shut out the dreaded moment of truth, then said, his voice shadowed with regret he could not conceal, “He’s alive.”

Somehow, Jade made her way around the chair to collapse and sit down before her knees gave way, then, hand clutching her throat, whispered, “I can’t believe it. Please, God, let it be true…”

“Oh, it’s true, all right,” Bryan curtly affirmed. He returned to his desk, sat down, and grimly nodded toward the file. “I hired the best agency in the business, Jade, the Pinkerton. I have no reason to doubt what they’ve told me, and I can assure you it’s all been kept confidential. Colt has no idea that there was an investigation.”

Now she was truly puzzled. What did all this mean? And why was he being so mysterious? She didn’t care anything about details, only the miracle that Colt was alive. All she was interested in hearing now was where he was so she could go to him, throw herself into his arms, and never, ever let him go. As for her past, personal relationship with Bryan, it was as though she had suddenly found herself in the presence of a stranger. No matter that she was aware of his deep, devoted love for her, or the knowledge of having slept in his arms too many nights to remember as he’d soothed her grief beneath a velvet guise of arousal and longing. Those memories were pushed aside in the face of the tumultuous climax of a heart-wrenching quest…the triumph of dream over nightmare, because Colt was, praise God, alive!

Suddenly Bryan shook his head abruptly, as though waving away emotions that were trying to diminish his responsibility for this moment. Then he began, “Jade, first of all, I want you to know that I intend to tell you everything the Pinkerton agency learned. I won’t leave out anything—”

“But that doesn’t matter,” she interrupted with a wave of her hand. “All I care about is that Colt is alive.” She saw the instant frown that touched his forehead and rushed to appease him. “Bryan, I know you love me, and in my own special way I love, you, too, but stop and think how you’d feel if you suddenly found out that, by some strange miracle, Marnia was alive.

“You’d have to set aside all your feelings for me, wouldn’t you? You’d have to try and forget all the passion and emotions…” Her voice trailed away as she realized he was looking at her in abject pity.

With a sudden sense of foreboding, she sharply demanded, “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me that way?”

He drew in his breath harshly, then slowly exhaled, fingertips pressed against his temples. Painful though it would be, he had to tell her. “Colt is married.”

Jade blinked in disbelief, then exploded with laughter. “Oh, Bryan, stop teasing me. I know this isn’t the way you wanted it to be, but as I just said, think how you’d feel if Marnia—”

“Marnia is dead,” he curtly reminded her, then added grimly, “And Colt might as well be.”

The cold feeling of dread and horror, returned with the force of a slap. She jerked her head sharply from side to side, as though rebuking a physical assault. “I don’t understand. What are you telling me? I wish…” her voice broke with emotion, “…that you’d stop fooling around, Bryan, and tell me what I need to know. I’d like to see Colt, as soon as possible.” Her eyes filled with tears of joyful anticipation. He was alive…alive…and Bryan, despite his goodness, was disappointed, and he was deliberately being mean, and that just wasn’t like him at all, and maybe that was why she had this rushing, frightening feeling inside.