Grave Consequences (Grand Tour Series #2) (45 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

~Cora~

Three days later

We were in the palazzo salon, having tea, when Will and Antonio escorted Art Stapleton in, hat in his hands.

Gradually, every man in the room stood. The veins in Andrew’s neck bulged, and I knew he was itching to tear the man apart.

“Gentlemen, please,” I said, lifting a hand. “Let’s hear him out.” He’d been missing since the night of our attack. Most of us had assumed he’d fled the city.

“Did you get another story filed, Stapleton?” Hugh sneered. “Is that why you show up now?”

“There will be one more segment in
Life
,” Art said, “a story I sent two weeks ago, but no more after that. The only other pictures from my camera will be used by the authorities to prosecute Luc Coltaire and his men, or to tell my own story of duplicity.”

“Sure,” Andrew said sarcastically. “We believe that.”

I set down my teacup, chagrined at my trembling, and rose and laid my hand on my brother’s arm. Felix looked down at me. “Please,” I said. “If I can tolerate his presence, can you not all as well?” It touched me, their defense. As much as they all felt exposed, used, we all knew I was the central focus of Art’s stories.

Felix nodded slowly. “If Cora wishes to hear him out, I do too,” he said, tucking my fingers more solidly around his arm. His gesture warmed me.

Art warily looked from Andrew to me and Felix and then swallowed hard. “There are no words, of course, to tell you all how sorry I am. And especially you, Cora. It started as a lark, really, a bit of drama in my mind. No one was to get hurt.”

“But people did get hurt,” Lil cried, bringing a hand to her mouth. “We did.” Nell wrapped her arm around her friend’s shoulders.

“A man died,” Pierre said, his lips in a line. “A good man.”

Art nodded, his eyebrows knit in contrition. “And for that, I’m sorriest of all. I’m heading to Paris to face the authorities.” He paused, as if searching for the right words. “At first, you all were nothing but a story for me,” he said. “And a good one at that. But after things went awry in Paris, I felt I must join you for a time to make sure Coltaire stayed away. But as I traveled with you, I became your friend. I know you all would never call me that any longer,” he rushed on, “but I consider each of you friends now.”

“Friends don’t abuse their friends as you have,” Felix said.

“I know,” Art said. “Again, I beg for your forgiveness. But you see, by the time I was deciding that, I was in too deep. I was committed, my editor was sending me telegrams…”

“Spare us your woes,” Vivian bit out.

“Right,” Art said, clamping his lips shut. He pressed on. “I paid off Coltaire in Nîmes. I was hoping it would be the last of him.”

“Or just another nice addition to the story?” Wallace said, hand on the mantle. All of this time, he’d been staring into the fire. Listening. Mr. Morgan, as usual, hovered nearby.

“It became both,” Art admitted carefully. “But it was truly to be the end. Coltaire swore it was so.”

“And then he showed up in Vienna,” I said.

Art’s eyes moved to meet mine. “Yes,” he said with a slight nod. “And it was then I knew we’d never be free of him.”

“Our only hope to nab them and put an end to this,” Will said, “was to get to Coltaire first. To convince him that Art wanted one more dramatic segment for his story, at double the pay. Otherwise, Coltaire and his men would’ve continued to menace us.”

“And then Nathan Hawke entered the mix,” Felix said.

Art and Will nodded, and we all shared a sober silence. Hawke hadn’t been seen since that last awful night either. When he’d been double-crossed by Coltaire. So…was it truly over? Or now, now that Nathan’s true intentions had been exposed, would he stay out of sight, far from us? I sighed and looked to the window, again determined to never be trapped by the thoughts detrimental to what was now.

“You made mistakes,” I said. “Dreadful decisions with terrible consequences. But all we can ask of you is what you are doing. Apologizing and facing the authorities, then hopefully making better decisions in the future. Thank you for coming to us, Art.”

The rest of the group looked at me in mild surprise as I took the lead, dismissing him. I could feel the heat of a blush at my jawline.

Art nodded and turned his hat in his hands. “If I could do it over again…” he began.

“But you can’t, can you?” I said softly. “None of us can.”

We were all silent for a bit. Then Art turned to walk away. My father gestured to Pascal, and the man followed him out. Art may have promised to do the right thing, but Wallace Kensington would ensure it was done. After the door shut, most of us sank to our seats again.

“It is time we go,” Wallace said after a long moment, still standing beside the mantle. “Home, Cora. Where we belong.” I studied my father. I knew there was a good part of him that thought he knew best, that he was merely looking out for me. But I was his daughter of a mere two months, truly. And everything was about to change again.

“I do not agree.” I looked about at the rest of our group, then back to him. “You may have decided that the tour is over, but I wish to complete it. In a more restful, relaxed state from here on out.”

“Impossible,” my father blustered. “I will not allow it.”

“You may wish to try and change my mind, but my decision is my own, Father,” I said. “I have secured an attorney, and he assures me that I have good grounds to fight for my share of the Dunnigan mine, as do my parents. He’s even assisted me in securing a small loan.”

“It takes far more than you think to travel as you have,” he warned.

“Then I shall travel in a more modest fashion,” I said, looking to Will. He nodded once, assuring me. I returned my gaze to Wallace. “You cannot control me. I wish to know you as my father, not as dictator. I surmise that my siblings would concur.”

I looked at Vivian, Felix, and Lillian, but their expressions spoke of doubt, fear. I smiled, gently. It had taken nearly losing my life—and fearing they might lose theirs—to realize how I felt about them. “You three may make your own decisions.”

My father leveled a furious glance at me. “You cannot turn my family against me.”

“That is not what I wish,” I said softly. “My greatest wish is for you to see each of your children as the gift they are, not as a commodity to be managed, traded.” I glanced at Vivian, but she turned away. “You, yourself, Father,” I added, “are invited to join us as much as you wish. I wish to spend a week here, a couple of weeks in Tuscany, a couple of weeks in Rome, before heading back to Montana. But only after I stop in Minnesota.”

I met Pierre’s glance; it was pained, mixed with admiration. He didn’t quite know what to make of this turn of events, what to make of me, even after I’d told him again that my heart was Will’s and I was taking a stand against my father. Somehow, some way, we’d find our way forward as friends. I was sure of it.

Wait…and trust.

“It’s been a grand adventure to date. I am so grateful to you all.” My eyes found my father’s again. “But these next steps, I propose we take on our own, as the self-possessed adults our fathers wished we would become along this journey. So…who shall join me?”

“I’m in,” Will said.

“And I,” Vivian said, with Andrew quickly echoing her. I glanced at him in surprise. Somehow, I’d thought this would be the last straw for the Morgans.

“And I,” said Felix, Hugh, Lillian, and Nell as one.

I smiled even as my father continued to stare at me, Mr. Morgan rose, and the room stilled. Would my father lay down the gauntlet now? Begin to unleash his fury as he threatened? Will stepped forward and took my hand, and my father looked from our hands to my face. “You wish to lead, Cora? You think you know all it takes, to rule in my stead?” he said. He waved in the air. “Then you’re welcome to find out. But don’t come crying to me when you fall.”

“Papa always said that when we fall, we gradually learn to stand on steadier feet,” I said softly, meeting his unwavering gaze.

He clamped his lips shut.

“Wait and trust, Father. For I believe there are good things ahead,” I said, looking about the room and then up at Will. “Good things indeed.”

… a little more …

When a delightful concert comes to an end,

the orchestra might offer an encore.

When a fine meal comes to an end,

it’s always nice to savor a bit of dessert.

When a great story comes to an end,

we think you may want to linger.

And so, we offer ...

AfterWords—
just a little something more after you

have finished a David C Cook novel.

We invite you to stay awhile in the story.

Thanks for reading!

Turn the page for ...

• Discussion Questions

• A Chat with the Author

• Historical Notes

Discussion Questions

1. Anna says, “We mustn’t always pine after what we think we’re missing.… Some things are just not ours to be had.” What do you find you “pine after” that you think will never be yours? Why?

2. Cora thinks, “Moments belonged to those who acted. Not those who thought about acting.” Have you ever faced a moment of glory, then overthought it so much that the moment passed? Or pushed through even though you were scared? Discuss.

3. Cora wonders, “How much did we do in life that was the result of what others around us demanded? Rather than what God was calling us to do?” Do you find that people around you drive you more than God? Why or why not?

4. The Grand Tourists encounter history that clearly depicts violence and hatred, much of it as a “holy cause.” Do you think faith is an adequate reason to go to war? Why or why not?

5. Loss visits us all in some way—relationships, property, finances—regardless of whether we’re poor or rich. Discuss how loss hurts but also can help.

6. Cora stubbornly holds on to her past as “who she is” and believes she will return to it. Have you ever left home? How did the move change you? Do you think someone can ever “go home again” and be the same person they were when they left? Why do we hunger for that at times? Discuss.

7. Do parents today still send their children on paths they believe to be right rather than allowing their kids to choose? What has been your experience?

8. Cora observes, “As with so much else that was right and true in life, we got lost in the particulars and lost sight of what was right and true in the first place—we concentrated on the things that divided us rather than the things that unified us. Love. Grace. Peace.” What is an instance in your life where something good was destroyed by concentrating on the “things that divide” instead of the things that unite?

9. Cora wonders if her journey will ultimately lead to confusion rather than clarification: “Would this journey leave me lost rather than found?” How does wandering and exploring, either literally (e.g., a trip) or figuratively (e.g., thinking about things) help or hurt? Discuss good limits and ways to make the most of “journeys.”

10. Have you ever prayed for specific answers and the only answer you received was “wait”? If so, how did you respond to that? If not, how do you think you would respond to that?

11. What do you think about being “equally yoked,” in matters of faith, with a potential spouse?

12. The theme of doing as we are led, not only as our parents dictate, runs through this book for many characters. Did your parents encourage or even force you to pursue anything or anyone in your life? Did that work out well? Why or why not?

13. Cora decides she is to enjoy “what was rather than fearing what might be or resenting what had come before.” Have fears of the future or regrets of the past ever kept you from enjoying the present? Discuss.

Chat with the Author