The words were like an arrow, straight to the heart of all Rory’s doubt. Because she didn’t know. And she didn’t want to imagine it. To picture Chance and Paige locked in a lover’s embrace made her ill. She placed a hand over her stomach, to still a sudden swell of queasiness.
“You’re out of your depth, Rory.” Her sister placed a comforting hand on her arm as if to lessen the sting of her words. “And you’re playing with people’s lives. Yes, it’s obvious you and Chance are extremely attracted to each other. It’s... embarrassing sometimes, because it’s happening right in front of Paige, and she seems so oblivious. Plus, I keep thinking about the fact that you’re carrying his baby, but neither one of them knows.”
The baby.
Rory continued to caress her stomach, no longer out of nausea, but out of a need to protect her child. What would happen when Chance found out? Would he want the baby as much as she had come to want it?
“Rory, you need to tell him.”
She glanced up, wounded. “I thought you were on my side. That you agreed I should wait until I was ready.”
“I didn’t think you’d take this long to build up the courage.”
“It’s not a matter of courage. It’s a matter of protecting my future with Chance...
if
I have one.” She struggled for a way to explain. “I can’t tell him until he realizes that what he feels for me is lasting and real in spite of our differences. That what we could have together will bring him so much more joy than what he has now. If he finds out I’m pregnant, and breaks up with Paige to marry me because it’s ‘the right thing to do,’ neither of us will ever know for sure if he feels anything more than obligation—which could easily turn to resentment.”
Alli grew still, her voice hushed. “How do you know he’ll break up with Paige to marry you when he finds out?”
Rory pulled back, surprised. “Because he’ll want to do the right thing.”
“Rory,” Allison sighed, “for men like Chance, the right thing might be nothing more than making some legal settlement to provide for you and the baby. I know that possibility hurts, but you have to face reality. He’s Oliver Chancellor, for heaven’s sake. One of the Chancellors.”
“You think he’ll toss some money at me, then go ahead and marry Perfect Paige just because she’s a Baxter?”
“Possibly. If she’ll still have him. Which she might. If they have a strong relationship, they could work this out, and go on to have a good marriage.”
“
If
they have a strong relationship—which I don’t think they do.”
“Rory...” Alli started to argue, then shook her head.
“Okay, maybe you’re right. Maybe they are wrong for each other. Maybe you and Chance can find some common ground. I just... I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“It’s too late for that.” Rory fought back tears. “I’m already hurting.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Alli’s face filled with empathy as she opened her arms and pulled Rory into a motherly hug.
Rory went eagerly into the embrace, holding on tight. “I’ll be okay. This will work out, somehow. You’ll see.”
“Always the sunshine girl.” Allison pulled back with a sad smile and straightened Rory’s bangs. “Just one last thing... do you still want to go tomorrow?” Allison said, referring to the shopping trip they had been planning for days. A shopping trip that included Paige.
Rory nodded. “I can handle it.”
“Are you sure?”
Rory’s eyes narrowed. “If anyone is going to be left out of tomorrow’s shopping trip, it’s Paige, not me. She might be helping us out, but she isn’t family, and I refuse to step aside and let her have free rein to decorate our inn.”
“Okay.” Allison raised her hands in surrender, recognizing the stubborn set of Rory’s jaw. “We’ll all go shopping together.”
She must have been insane, Rory decided the following day. It was the only reason she could think of for why she’d insisted on going to Houston with Allison and Paige for their shopping trip.
She sat in the back seat of her aunt’s luxury sedan, where the blazing heat of September made her so lightheaded all she wanted to do was lie down and rest her cheek on the cool leather. Would the first “Blue Northern” to end summer never come? To make matters worse, the farther they drove from the breeze off the gulf, the heavier the air felt. Even the air conditioner blowing full blast couldn’t compensate for the scorching rays of sunshine beating in through the windows.
In the front seat, Allison and Paige mapped out their shopping trip like a SWAT team planning a raid.
Rory marveled that anyone could stare at a street map and read discount coupons in a moving car without getting sick. The mere thought of it made her stomach churn.
Finally, Paige lifted her head, triumph in her eyes. “We have our route. And our mission, ladies, should we choose to accept it, is to find linens, pillows, bedspreads, shams, throw rugs, and Lord willin’, some decorative art and knickknacks at prices that wouldn’t send Chance through the roof.”
“Is that possible?” Allison asked. “From what I can tell, no one is as tight-fisted as Chance.”
“Chance isn’t tight-fisted,” Paige protested before Rory could. “Quite the opposite. He has an eye for quality and appreciates the best. Which means, if we left the decorating up to him, he’d blow the whole budget on a few items with the plan to add more as money allowed.”
“Oh, now that would give the inn a real cozy atmosphere,” Allison said.
Rory frowned at the back of Paige’s blond head. She had suspected the same thing about Chance, but hadn’t known for sure. Because she was still getting to know him, while Paige had known him most of her life. Which did
not
mean Paige would make him a better wife!
“Just one word of warning.” Paige turned in her seat so she could speak to both of them. “Don’t tell him we went to discount stores, factory outlets, and dare I say”—she pressed a hand to her cheek—“thrift stores to get everything we needed without busting the budget he gave us. Chance hates shopping under the best of conditions, but he thinks discount stores are disorganized, dirty, and totally lacking in service.”
“Uh, Paige,” Allison interjected, “they are.”
“I know.” Paige’s eyes twinkled. “But he thinks that means they have inferior merchandise. He doesn’t understand that
(a)
it’s the same merchandise you find in department stores, but at a fraction of the price. And
(b)
it’s exhilarating to search through all that disorganized mess, like you’re digging for buried treasure. It takes knowledge, experience, and nerves of steel to find the gold and snatch it away from the other treasure hunters.”
Allison took her eyes off the road long enough to give Paige a look of admiration. “Are you sure we’re not twins separated at birth?”
“Soul sisters, maybe.” Paige laughed, making Rory feel like a third wheel. She almost wished she hadn’t come. The soul sisters in the front seat didn’t need her, and being near Paige was just making her sick with guilt and self-doubt.
She watched as the woman folded the map and stuffed the discount coupons back into the envelope she’d brought. She found it ironic that Paige kept discount coupons in a cream-colored envelope with her monogram embossed on the flap. And that she dressed in diamonds and designer clothes to shop at thrift stores.
“You know,” Paige said after a while, “there’s something I’ve always been curious about.”
“What’s that?” Allison asked while Rory rested her head on the seat back and closed her eyes. With luck she’d drift to sleep.
“The legend of the Pearl,” Paige said, her voice blending with the sound of the tires on the highway. “I know the Pearl is Marguerite herself, and not an actual pearl, but how can a person be a good-luck charm?”
“It has to do with her birth,” Allison answered. “Marguerite was the daughter of a French prostitute in New Orleans, and was born in a brothel. The Creole woman who delivered her practiced voodoo. She knew Marguerite’s mother planned to send the baby to an orphanage, but the thought broke her heart because she knew how horrible those places could be. So, when the baby was born, she held her up above her head and named her Marguerite, which means ‘pearl,’ then cast a charm that included the words ‘Whoever keeps this pearl shall be blessed with good fortune.’ It’s a shame she didn’t say ‘takes good care of’ instead of just ‘keeps,’ but once the words were spoken, the magic was cast.”
“A voodoo charm?” Paige asked, sounding intrigued. “Do you think such things work?”
Allison thought a moment. “I’m not sure what I believe. But Marguerite’s mother was very superstitious—and greedy. She kept her baby simply to see if the blessing would come true. Sure enough, a few months later, a wealthy gentleman became wildly infatuated with her and set her up as his mistress in a fancy town house. His own finances drastically improved after that, and the mother told him it was due to Marguerite, which effectively discouraged him from ever dismissing her as his mistress.”
“I’ll bet.” Paige laughed.
“The man doted on Marguerite,” Alli said. “Perhaps out of genuine affection, perhaps out of greed. Mostly, though, he indulged her love of music by taking her to the opera whenever he took her mother.
“When she was old enough, she joined the stage as a singer. The theater where she started wasn’t one of the best, but it quickly grew in popularity, making the owner very rich. He heard the story of Marguerite’s birth, and treated her like a queen to keep her from ever leaving. Word of Marguerite’s power as a good-luck charm spread, and eventually Henri LeRoche heard the tale.”
“He was already living in Galveston, wasn’t he?” Paige asked.
Allison nodded. “He was older than her and not that good-looking, but according to Marguerite’s diary he ‘wore his power like a cloak of danger that enticed even as it frightened.’ ”
“You have her diary?”
“Several of them. Both the originals, which I can sorta-kinda read since I took a lot of French, and the English translations my great-grandmother did.
“Anyway, when he first came to see her backstage, he swore he’d fallen in love with her at first sight. She’d heard all that before, though, and tried to gently send him on his way. But Henri was not the kind of man to take no for an answer. He courted her without mercy, showering her with flowers and jewels, offering her anything she desired if she would be his. But Marguerite was a wealthy woman in her own right by that time, and was not about to become any man’s kept mistress. Her price was marriage. After months of trying to seduce her, Henri finally gave in and proposed.”
“How romantic.”
“Not exactly,” Alli said. “As soon as they were married, the ‘courtship’ ended very abruptly. He beat her on their wedding night to prove that she was his property now, for him to do with as he pleased.”
“That’s horrible!” Paige gasped.
“Yeah, it is,” Allison agreed quietly.
Sitting in the back seat with her eyes still closed, Rory wished her sister hadn’t begun the tale. It was too easy to picture it all, to almost feel Marguerite’s terror and despair.
“The wedding night was only the beginning,” Allison continued. “Even though he abused her, Henri’s fortune grew dramatically once he brought her to Galveston and the house he built for her. After one particularly brutal beating, Marguerite tried to escape, which was when he quit letting her leave Pearl Island. The house that was supposed to be her wedding gift became her prison.”
“That’s so awful,” Paige said. “But if she was kept so secluded, how did she meet Captain Kingsley? Much less find enough time alone with him to fall in love?”
“You forget,” Allison said. “Captain Kingsley was a smuggler before the Civil War, and a very cunning one at that. He was used to slipping beneath people’s guard to accomplish his goal. From the moment he saw Marguerite, she was his obsession. She tried to discourage him at first, out of fear of Henri, and because she was married, after all. She might have hated her husband, but she was Catholic to the bone and believed devoutly in keeping her vows. But Captain Kingsley was impossible for her to resist. Swaggering, confident, larger than life, gorgeous to look at, and willing to do anything to win her, even die trying to save her.”
“Can you imagine?” Paige sighed. “I don’t envy her the rest of her life, but to have a man like Captain Jack Kingsley sweep you off your feet...”
“It is exciting to think about... but in the end, all it did was get her killed,” Allison said. “And yet... it’s nice to know that after all the people who used her during her life, at least she found someone who truly loved her in the end.”
“What a sad story.”
“Sadder still is one of the last entries she made in her dairy.”
“Oh?”
“I can’t remember it word for word, but basically she says it took her her whole life to realize there are many kinds of false love—love based on lust, greed, desperation, and even obligation. Those kinds of love are false because they only touch the surface and require very little to maintain the illusion. True love takes courage, because you have to offer yourself, everything you are, weaknesses and all. And that is the greatest fear of all because rejection of self from someone you love would be a pain beyond enduring.”
“Yes,” Paige said quietly, “that is the greatest fear.”
Her voice sounded so defeated, Rory opened her eyes. She found Paige gazing out the side window. Marguerite’s story had a way of making anyone feel sad, but there was something different about Paige’s response, as if the tale had hit her too close to the heart. Puzzled, Rory caught her sister’s eye in the rear-view mirror. Allison shrugged, apparently having no clue what had caused Paige’s withdrawal.
“I talked to Captain Bob the other day, about the ship for the ball,” Paige said, effectively changing the subject. “He says the
Pirate’s Pleasure
needs some repairs before she can leave her slip, but the captain is hiring on extra hands to get it done in time.”
Following Paige’s lead, Allison turned the talk to the preparations for the ball. Rory let her eyes drift closed again, but she couldn’t shake a nagging sense of curiosity stirred by Paige’s response. Had the story made Paige think of her relationship with Chance?
Rory thought of Marguerite’s words, that true love took courage and a willingness to share oneself. Was that what was wrong between Chance and Paige? Had they been raised with such a strict sense of what was proper that they didn’t know how to express something as messy as emotions?
And if that was true of Chance, how would Rory ever get him to admit he loved her—if he even did?
~ ~ ~
Six grueling hours later, the three women were flushed from the thrill of victory. So far, no blood had been shed, but it had been a near thing at Saversmart when Paige had spotted a Laura Ashley bedspread the same instant as another shopper. After that skirmish had been settled in Paige’s favor, they realized they’d saved enough to squeeze in some silk plants from a wholesaler where Mr. Baxter’s construction company had an account.
Then onto their final stop, the thrift store. Allison and Paige barely contained their inner excitement when they discovered a truck had just delivered the leftovers from an estate sale. The two of them set about filling cardboard boxes with porcelain figurines, ruby glass bud vases, brass candlesticks, and hand-tatted doilies while Rory wandered deeper into the shop.
There in the back, she discovered another room... filled with baby furniture and clothes. Her heart clutched as she stood on the threshold. Bassinets, cribs, and brightly colored toys beckoned her inside. She glanced over her shoulder, wondering what she’d say if Paige saw her shopping for baby things.
She shouldn’t risk it. She knew she shouldn’t. But the lure was too great to resist.
She moved toward a display of clothes for newborns, and marveled at outfits so tiny they looked like doll’s clothes. Oh, and a christening gown! With miles of white lace and pink ribbon. A shelf of shoes nearly made her weep as she pictured a child stumbling through those first steps.
She turned and found a playpen filled with stuffed animals. She’d loved stuffed animals when she was a girl, and still had all of her favorites put away in the top of her closet. Although one could never have too many stuffed animals, she decided as she started lifting one after the other out of the pen.
A pink pig made her smile, while a green frog with a floppy yellow crown brought outright laughter. Then she spied the cutest rag doll angel she’d ever seen. Picking it up, she admired the sweet round face with hand-painted blue eyes. Braided yarn served for hair and gold lame stuffed with cotton formed the wings. She straightened the shiny tinsel halo, and felt her heart melt.
“I’m going to have an angel,” she whispered to the doll. The trusting blue eyes smiled back at her.
And I can’t wait to hold her. Or him. But I hope it’s a her, with pretty blond hair just like yours.
“Rory?” Allison’s voice came from the other room. She turned in time to see her sister appear in the doorway. With a jolt, she looked for Paige, and sighed in relief when she didn’t see her.