A Hope Beyond (35 page)

Joseph’s tired smile did nothing to reassure Leland. He had known that Carolina Adams would be given the P&GF accounts to consider, but he’d never believed questions would result. Perhaps he had been careless.

“But surely,” Leland said, hoping desperately to change the subject, “you haven’t come here on the sole purpose of this matter.”

“No, actually I haven’t. I will be taking Mrs. Adams to Boston within a fortnight, and I was rather hoping you might allow me to be so bold as to impose our company upon you for a night.”

Leland breathed a second sigh of relief. “But of course, Joseph. My home is always open to you.”

“I’m afraid there is more to explain.” Joseph’s sad eyes intently searched Leland’s face. “You see, my wife is not herself. She is given to spells of extreme distress. I cannot be more clear than to say”—he paused, obviously uncomfortable with the subject—“she wails and laments the passing of her children. She—”

Leland held up his hand. “Joseph, say no more. Mrs. Baldwin has long admonished me to escort her to her sister’s home in Richmond. She, too, has been a bit under the weather and feels a respite there would see her completely healed. If you would give me the time of your travels, I will arrange to take her on to Richmond, and you may have our home to yourselves.”

“I can’t ask that much of you,” Joseph protested.

“Nonsense. You have asked for nothing more than shelter and privacy. I will afford you both.”

“I can’t thank you enough.”

A knock sounded on the door, and once again the butler interrupted Leland’s day. “Sir, the young master has returned.”

“James? Here?”

Leland and Joseph both got to their feet as James Baldwin strode into the room.

“Father,” he said, bowing formally. Then, spying Joseph, James paled noticeably and bowed again. “Mr. Adams.”

James had not intended to meet up with Joseph Adams. It had been five years since he’d had cause to face this man, and now, even with so many years between meetings, he was unnerved. This man must surely hold him malice and ill will, and with good reason. James felt the uncomfortable warmth of the day add to the discomfort of his sudden embarrassment. Without thought he unbuttoned his coat.

“James, I must say this is a surprise.”

“I know, Father, and I’m sorry that I didn’t write ahead to let you know of my arrival.”

They all sat once again, but James couldn’t shake the uneasiness he felt. All at once, the feelings he’d fought so hard to bury resurfaced without warning. Seeing Joseph was akin to seeing Carolina, and the very thought warmed his blood in a way that offered him nothing but distress.

“I . . . ah . . .” he stammered. “I came in . . . that is to say . . . I arrived on the train.”

“Why, how very strange. Mr. Adams, too, was on the afternoon train.”

“You were in Baltimore, sir?”

Joseph nodded. “Yes, actually returning from Boston and business. But I paused there long enough to visit with Carolina.”

He had spoken her name. That unthinkable, wonderful name. Visions of the woman who’d haunted him through the years came to mind and flooded his aching heart. Why could he not be done with her?

“Ah, I understand she was to have married your commission merchant. I pray she is well.”

Joseph looked rather strangely at James before shaking his head. “No, she did not marry Mr. Cabot, although there was a time many years ago when he did pay her court. Mr. Cabot has, in fact, been married these past years to Virginia. I thought you might have heard.”

James felt a tightness constrict his chest. His breath seemed stifled, and a gnawing twinge grew in the pit of his stomach. “No, I’d not heard. I . . . well . . . you mentioned visiting with Carolina in Baltimore, and I presumed—”

“No, no. Carolina is living in Baltimore as nanny to the daughter of Blake St. John.”

“Nanny?”

Joseph laughed and James couldn’t help but see him relax a bit. “You, more than anyone, should know the unconventionality of my Carolina. Four years ago she ventured to answer this man’s need for a nanny, and she has remained there ever since. I believe she’s completely given her heart.”

James’ initial relief was replaced with painful resolve. “To Mr. St. John?”

Joseph again laughed. “No, that man seems quite incapable of anyone’s interest. No, Carolina has completely given her heart to young Victoria St. John. And I must say, there is no child more deserving. She is a sweet, amiable little one, and I have greatly enjoyed her visits.”

“I can’t say that I understand that girl of yours,” Leland interjected. “To have passed aside the comforts of home, not to mention her chance at marriage, for the position of governess seems most unreasonable.”

Joseph sobered. “I dare say she’s not passed up the opportunity of those things. Her home is always among us if she desires to return, and as for marriage, well, that girl of mine, as you put it, has blossomed into a handsome woman. I doubt she’ll have any trouble causing men of courting interest to forget her twenty-two years.”

James smiled and the action was not lost on his father or Joseph. “See there,” Joseph said, eyeing him carefully. “I believe Mr. Baldwin would agree with me.”

James felt a sudden revelation that perhaps Joseph had always known his feelings for Carolina. Meeting the man’s gaze, James knew without a doubt that his suspicions were true. He found a million unspeakable questions come to mind, then to his surprise, Joseph smiled broadly and gave him a little nod as if to approve of James’ unspoken interest.

Could it be? James wondered. Could it be possible that after so faithlessly jilting one daughter, the man would actually approve of him seeking court with another of his children? James began to tremble. Carolina was unmarried and living in Baltimore. Baltimore, of all places! Why, James called Baltimore home more than any other city. How could it be that she’d remained so close in proximity to him and yet so distant?

He scarcely heard the words of conversation that passed between his father and Joseph Adams, and it was only moments before Mr. Adams was bidding them both good-bye and heading for the door.

“I understand from your father that you have remained in the employment of the B&O these past five years.”

James startled, suddenly realizing that the words were directed to him. “Yes. I’ve worked west on the main stem and find myself at various points along the line.”

“Well, the next time you are in Baltimore, perhaps you will renew your acquaintance with Carolina. I can’t help but believe she would find that most enjoyable.”

James met Joseph’s eyes and saw nothing but forgiveness and acceptance in his gaze. “I would find that very enjoyable myself, sir.”

“Good,” Joseph replied as if he’d settled a long overdue account.

James watched him leave, still stunned at the sudden change in his world. Long ago, he’d given up hope that Carolina could ever mean anything more to him than a memory from the past. Now her own father was initiating the renewal of their relationship. Could it truly be possible that she would receive him after all these years?

38
Unlocking the Past

A week after her father returned to Oakbridge, Carolina experienced a new development in her relationship with Mrs. Graves. During her entire course of living in the St. John house, the housekeeper had refused any friendly gesture or act of kindness toward Carolina. But then a twisted ankle resulted in a friendship that Carolina could not have foretold.

Having missed a step off the back porch, Mrs. Graves was relegated to bed for two weeks with a painfully swollen ankle. Carolina took the opportunity to pamper the older woman and to once again try to penetrate the harsh facade of rigid propriety.

One humid June evening, after seeing Victoria to bed and closing up the silent house for the night, Carolina journeyed to Mrs. Graves’ room, bringing with her tea and several of Cook’s sugar cookies.

“I thought perhaps you would like a bedtime snack,” Carolina said, coming into the room without the slightest reservation. “Although in this heat, tea might not seem to be the most acceptable drink.”

Mrs. Graves, propped in bed with her Bible, warily noted the nanny and seemed to give up a sigh of resolve. “You’ve been most kind, Miss Adams.”

“Not at all,” Carolina replied, setting the tray on the nightstand. “I’m doing my Christian duty and caring for a friend, just as you might have done for me.”

“I’ve not been much of a friend to you. Why are you so kind to me?”

Carolina smiled and poured a steaming cup of tea. “I was a stranger to you and this house. You had seen the comings and goings of many workers who could not abide the temperament of Mr. St. John. Why should I have presented any more stability and comfort to you than had the others? However, I would have thought that after a year or so I would have proved my merit.”

“You did.” The older woman looked away, and Carolina thought her eyes revealed shame. “I can’t abide the way I’ve treated you, Miss Adams.”

“Please call me Carolina. We are to be friends, are we not?”

Mrs. Graves smiled. “I would like that.” She took the tea and the offered cookie and motioned to Carolina to join her. “Please stay. I have a feeling we should talk.”

“I would say it is long overdue.”

That conversation was only the first of many, and Carolina finally came to know acceptance in the eyes of the temperamental housekeeper. One afternoon, with Mrs. Graves carefully arranged for a restful period in the stylish backyard gardens, Carolina joined her to watch over Victoria at play.

“She’s growing up so fast. I’m afraid I’ll simply have to let her dress hems down again.”

“You’ve done beautifully by the child,” Mrs. Graves said, surprising Carolina with the praise. “Her own mother would have scarcely done a better job.”

Carolina paused, teacup midway to her lips. “Can’t you tell me about her?”

Mrs. Graves shook her head. “’Tis been a long time since I’ve even allowed myself to remember her.” She looked away to where Victoria sat playing with the kittens. “She looks nothing like her mother. She favors her father’s dark, brooding looks and even his temperament. Suzanna, that is, Mrs. St. John, was a happy, boisterous young woman. She brought life into this house, and when she died, the life again left it.”

“How did she die?” Carolina dared ask the question and held her breath.

Mrs. Graves looked at her as if trying to decide if it was the right thing to tell the long unspoken story. “Physically, she drowned, but she was dead long before that dreadful day. You see, it was late in May of thirty-six when Suzanna and her little son, Charles, went to the park for an outing. Mr. St. John was a happy man then. He was totally devoted to his wife and son. Theirs, Carolina, was a love match. I’ve never seen a man so lost in his love of a woman as was Mr. St. John for my Suzanna.”

“Your Suzanna?”

“I knew her from the time she was a small child. I served her mother as a chambermaid. I was given over to Suzanna when she married, but we always shared a deep abiding love. I was more mother to the child than her own mother was. In many ways, just like you are to young Victoria.” Mrs. Graves sipped her tea and considered the matter for a moment. “I suppose, to my shame, that is why I found it so hard to accept you.” She gave Carolina an apologetic smile at this admission.

“So, you see,” the housekeeper continued, “I knew great happiness in this house, just as I’ve known great sorrow. Suzanna and their son Charles were all that Mr. St. John could desire in a wife and child.”

“What happened?”

“Suzanna was preoccupied with friends that day. She was lost in conversation and plans for a future trip abroad when the young master fell into the harbor and drowned.”

“How terrible!” Carolina felt sickened as she remembered times Victoria had wandered too close to the water at Harbor Park.

“Yes, indeed it was. Mr. St. John changed after that day,” Mrs. Graves said, her eyes imploring Carolina to understand. “He was not always so harsh and hardened, but that day he lost his heart and his soul.”

“It must have been Charles’ grave over which I found Mr. St. John mourning,” Carolina remembered.

“What’s that?” Mrs. Graves clearly did not follow Carolina’s words.

“I first met Mr. St. John, or should I say, I first saw him when I accompanied a friend to a concert at the church where Charles and his mother are buried. I intruded, unintentionally, upon his grieving. I felt horrible for the pain I seemed to have caused him that night.”

“He was inconsolable, and even the fact that Suzanna found herself already with child again did nothing to ease his misery. He began to drink and stay away long hours from home, and poor Suzanna . . .” The old woman took a long drink of her tea as if to bolster her nerves. “She never recovered from the loss of his love. She bore Victoria in February the following year, feeling very badly that she could not replace the son she blamed herself for taking from his father. Mr. St. John came home quite drunk, and even though Suzanna was scarcely five days in her birthing bed, he raged at her with all manner of vile accusation.”

“How sad,” Carolina whispered, all the while watching the childish antics of Victoria, who could have no possible understanding of why her parents had rejected her.