Linda Castle (22 page)

Thaddeus watched emotion play across the man’s face. “Where are you going?”

“I am going to Dandridge to see if they have heard from my daughter—and if I have not seen her by two o’clock then I will go to Ashmont University to find out what that scoundrel Temple Parish has done with her. I will have the truth out of that pirate if I have to bludgeon him to get it.” C. H. Cadwallender leaned heavily on his cane as he bustled out the door.

“And here I thought I had already written the story of the century about Temple Parish,” Thaddeus commented to the reporters who had gathered near his desk. “I must say, that man makes news wherever he goes.” Thaddeus smiled and stood up. He grabbed his
hat off the wooden rack, shoved a fresh pencil in his pocket and headed out the door.

“Where are you going, Tad?” the editor asked.

“I think I better find Temple Parish before I lose the scoop of my career.”

“M
iss, is this where you wanted to go?” The cabbie turned to face Constance in the open carriage.

She glanced up, stunned to see that she had ridden from the station, where she had paid the wagon driver for his time, all the way to the
Sentinel
offices on Stryker without being aware of it. “What?”

“I asked if this is where you wanted to be?”

Constance looked at the newspaper office in misery. She could imagine the smug faces of the reporters when she explained to Mr. Montague that the bones had been lost—stolen.

“I can’t face them, not now,” she mumbled. Images of Temple’s face, wreathed in a victorious smile, assaulted her.

“What’s that? I didn’t hear you, miss.”

“I’ve changed my mind. This is not where I want to be.” She glanced up at the confused driver. “Take me home. Take me to Twenty-Seven Gramercy Place.”

“Yes, miss.” The cabbie turned and flicked the reins. The horse trotted off and Constance sank back against the seat in misery. She had lost her heart, the
endowment and now very likely her father’s trust— and all to Temple Parish.

The carriage clattered over the uneven stones of the tree-lined street. Spring had turned to summer while Constance was in Montana. The bright hues of four o’clocks and daisies drew her eye, but brought her nojoy

She glanced up the lane at the dour brown blocks of granite that made the solid walls of her home. The ivy had once again twined its way through cracks and crevices on the craggy stone. It had entirely engulfed the trellis that stood on either side of the wide twelvestep stoop that led to her front door.

In her youth Constance had hidden within the protective shelter of those vines, springing out to startle her father just before he put his foot on the last step. She stared at the spiky green leaves of the Virginia creeper and longed for the simplicity of her childhood.

“Here we are, miss.” The cabbie’s voice drew her attention. She exited the open carriage before he could help her out and avoided his curious gaze by occupying herself with finding money with which to pay him. Finally she pulled out some crumpled bills, not knowing how much was there, and handed them up to him with trembling fingers.

“Thank you, miss.” He touched his cap before he left

Constance turned and started walking. She stared at the myriad cracks in the old walkway as she started climbing the steps. When she was halfway up, she finally raised her head and looked up at the house.

Her breath caught in her throat. Livingstone’s cage was nestled in the shade of the ivy, sitting on three wooden crates stacked one atop the other. One crate
had a card attached to it with her name on it. She rushed forward, confused by what she saw.

“Livingstone! Are you all right?” She opened the door of the cage and plunged her hand inside.

“Connie is a beauty.” The bird squawked while it hopped from perch to perch nearer her hand. “Kiss me…kiss me.”

“What did you say?” Constance drew her hand back and shut the cage. She stared at Livingstone in astonishment.

“He said you are a beauty.” Temple’s deep voice brought her spinning around. She stared into bloodshot brown eyes.

He gave her a lopsided smile. “It was a long trip—I spent quite a while listening to this damned stupid bird, but at least this time I agree with him.”

“What are you doing here?” Constance didn’t know whether she wanted to slap him or run into his arms. His smile twisted and the image of swaggering swashbuckler invaded her thoughts. She took a step backward, not trusting him or herself. “I would have thought you’d be accepting Mr. Montague’s money—or have you already done so since you made sure I could not?” The pain of betrayal made her words sharp with accusation.

He shook his head and flopped down on the third step below her. “I deserve that, Connie, that and much more.”

“Yes, you do.” She sat near him and stared down at his motionless form. He dragged off his hat, exposing his thick wild hair. “How could you, Temple?”

He looked up at her and shrugged. “I have worked
like a dog for the past ten years for one reason, Connie.”

“Money.”

‘That’s what I thought, but Peter made me see the truth. I’ve been around the world and back again for one thing.” He smiled. She was so pretty with indignant fury coursing through her. He wanted to claim her lips and feel her rage turn to passion, but he couldn’t do it, not yet.

Constance felt her knees turning to liquid so she forced herself to look away. Temple’s gaze was as hot and persuasive as it had been the night in her tent.

“I wanted to earn C.H.’s respect—”

“I hate to interrupt, but…” A young man stood blushing on the sidewalk below the bottom step.

Temple was up before Constance could react. “Damn it, Ball. I am sick of people like you.” He took a menacing step toward the startled man. “I didn’t do it—do you understand? I am innocent of the damned thefts. Rake me over the coals in the papers again, bring me up on charges. I just don’t care anymore.” Temple’s hands were balled into fists and Constance wondered if he were going to pummel the man. “I did not commit those thefts from Dandridge ten years ago.”

“Oh, I know that,” Thaddeus said evenly. “I’ve known for some time.” He blinked at Temple curiously. “Didn’t you get my letter?”

Temple froze on the spot. Constance saw confusion in his eyes and she recalled the letter that had ultimately led to his leaving her. “Yes, I got it. Weren’t you planning on blackmailing me?”

Thaddeus Ball laughed and shook his head. “Hardly. I followed the leads and they took me right
to the guilty man. It wasn’t even very difficult. If you had kicked up a fuss ten years ago everyone would have known the truth.” Ball frowned up at Temple. “Why didn’t you?”

Temple glanced at Connie and then he touched the scar on his cheek. “I didn’t want to see Connie or C.H. embarrassed.”

“What is this all about, Temple?” Constance rose to her feet. “For years Papa has been avoiding my questions. I think I have earned the right to know what went on between you two—and why.”

He gave her a sad look. “All right, Connie.” Temple was ready to bare his soul to her. He was prepared to let her see all of him, the street rat he used to be and the man he was now. He prayed she could forgive him.

Thaddeus Ball pulled a pad from his coat pocket. He drew a pencil from his shirt pocket. “Do you mind?”

“I guess not.” Temple drew his knee up and rested one muscled forearm on it. Connie closed her eyes and told herself not to notice.

“Why did you walk away ten years ago?” Thaddeus poised his pencil above the paper.

“C. H. Cadwallender took me off the streets, gave me a home and only asked one thing of me.” Temple paused. “He asked me to stay on the right side of the law.”

“But you said you were innocent.” Thaddeus frowned.

“I am innocent of the thefts from Dandridge.” Temple glanced over at Connie. He swallowed hard and searched for the courage Peter had spoken of.

“I don’t understand,” Thaddeus said.

“Christmas was coming. I wanted to buy something for C.H. and Connie with money I earned myself. I had gone back to work for certain businessmen.” Temple’s brows furrowed together. “I ran bets from the gambling halls for the bare-knuckle fights.”

“Oh, I see.” Thaddeus scribbled quickly.

“I hid the gifts at Dandridge University. I was caught there late at night shortly after the thefts had been discovered.” His fingers unconsciously went to the scar again. “All I had in my pockets, after they—uh—subdued me, were the gifts, but given my background, it was assumed I was the thief.”

“But I still don’t understand why you didn’t demand an investigation.”

“C.H. had taken a lot of criticism from his colleagues when he took me in. He would have been ridiculed, embarrassed by an investigation. I didn’t want to put him or Connie through that kind of humiliation.” Temple glanced at Connie from under his lashes. “Besides, I didn’t want C.H. to know that I had broken my promise to him.”

“So you left the university under a cloud of suspicion and you have been living with that lie ever since.” Thaddeus’s voice rang with bemused wonder. “It’s a lot to go through, Mr. Parish, just to preserve Professor Cadwallender’s reputation.”

“I agree, it is a lot to go through.” C.H.s deep voice drew the attention of all three people. He stood beside the thick curtain of ivy. It was obvious he had heard the entire story. Temple rose to his feet and faced his old mentor.

“Papa—I—” Constance started to explain why she had never arrived at the
Sentinel
but he raised his hand to silence her.

She felt tension ripple across the space that separated him from Temple.

“Sir.” Temple met C.H.’s stony gaze.

“I should have known you were innocent.”

“Yes, you should have—but that was a long time ago. I’ve spent too many years trying to live down that lie and live up to your expectations.”

“I don’t know what to say, Temple, except that I’m sorry. I failed you.”

Constance saw her father’s strong chin quiver and she felt his pain and his guilt. Temple stared at C.H. without moving and she found herself pitying them both. Then suddenly Temple mouthed an oath and reached out to C.H. The two men embraced each other. A part of her leaped for joy while another part of her burned with envy. Thaddeus Ball cleared his throat and Constance could see he was as touched by the gesture as she was herself.

“I’ve missed you,” C.H. mumbled as he released Temple.

“I’ve missed you too, sir.” Temple grinned and slapped C.H. on the shoulder. “I could have used your advice more than once.”

C.H. waved his hand but Constance saw the pleased grin spread across his face. “I doubt that. You have carved yourself a niche, and you’ve done it all on your own. Since Honoria did not show up at the newspaper office, I assume you have won Montague’s endowment as well.”

“If winning that endowment will earn your respect, Papa, then I guess Temple will be a happy man.” She wrung her hands together. Both her professional pride and her woman’s heart were breaking, while another
part of her was glad that at last Temple had found his prize.

“I didn’t get a chance to finish what I was telling you, Connie.” Temple leaned back against the cushion of leaves. “I finally realized there was something I want a whole lot more than Montague’s money or C.H.’s respect.”

“What could that possibly be?” She was nearing tears, torn by her sense of betrayal and her body’s traitorous reaction to having him so near.

He looked up at her and every trace of humor left his face. He looked suddenly boyish and vulnerable. She fought against her own weakness and met his gaze. Only her pride kept her from falling into his arms.

“I want your love, Constance Honoria,”

“How can you say such a thing when you stole my bones—made sure I could not win? It’s easy for you to ask for my love now that you have cheated me out of the chance of beating you fairly.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“You haven’t what? Stolen my find and my chance or broken my heart?” Her nose felt as if it were going to run and she swiped at it with the back of her glove.

“I couldn’t go through with it, Connie. I took your crate and fully intended to steal your discovery, claim it right along with mine, but I couldn’t do it.” His shoulders seemed to sag and he looked as if he had just confessed a great sin to her.

“I don’t understand.” Constance moved closer and sat down beside him on the cold concrete steps as she had when they were children.

“They are all here, Connie. I never met with Montague. I never went to Ashmont. I couldn’t break
your heart, at least I never meant to. You are the most important thing in the world to me. More important than fame or fortune, or even C.H.s damned respect.” He reached out and took hold of her hand. “I’m giving my bones to you, Connie. Take them, use them, throw them in the Hudson River.”

C.H. made a choking sound and Thaddeus Ball shuffled his feet in embarrassment, but Temple didn’t care. His pride had kept him from being happy for too long.

Constance stared at Temple in silence. Never in her life had she felt such an outpouring of love, or been more incapable of expressing it.

“Please, say something, Connie.” Temple scanned her face with hungry eyes. “For the love of God, tell me that you don’t hate me. At least give me that much.”

“Oh, Temple.” She felt a tear cascade over her lower eyelid. “I don’t hate you. I love you, you’ve been too blind to see that.”

“I love you…I love you,” squawked Livingstone.

Temple grinned. “For once that damned bird took the words right out of my mouth. I do love you, Connie. More than anything.”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard. She felt the delicious tingle of excitement when his unshaved cheeks gently scraped against her own. Her pulse accelerated when he speared his tongue into her mouth. She felt herself floating out of control, somewhere in the clouds. Slowly he ended the kiss and pulled away.

“I really hate to interrupt but my story no longer has an ending.” Thaddeus looked from Temple to
Connie. “What are you going to do about the endowment, Mr. Parish?”

“I told you to call me Temple.” He grinned and pulled Connie into the crook of his arm. “You’ll have to ask Miss Cadwallender about that. I have given my find to her to do with as she wishes.”

‘Oh, Temple, I can’t take credit for your work. If we can’t share the endowment then I don’t want any part of it.”

Constance saw her father’s wide-eyed expression of horror, but to his credit he remained silent. He leaned on his cane and pinched his mouth into a straight line.

“Just knowing that you were willing to give it up for me is enough.” She caressed Temple’s weathered jaw with her gloved hand.

“Relax, C.H., the money isn’t gone yet. If Connie is willing, I have a plan that I think will benefit us both.”

She nodded at him and he couldn’t resist kissing her once again.

“Good.” Temple lifted Livingstone’s cage off the top crate. “I have been dying to see what you found, Connie. Do I have your permission to take a peek?”