Love and Dreams: The Coltrane Saga, Book 6 (34 page)

He started to come closer but hesitated as he realized she suddenly looked terrified. “Did I startle you, Mrs. Stevens?”

Jade’s eyes narrowed. Why was he being so formal? Very well, she at once decided; if this was the way he wanted to play the occasion of their first encounter, so be it. Tightly, evenly, she bit out her reply. “Yes, you did.”

He cocked his head to one side, puzzled as to why she seemed so angry—defensive, almost. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed your dancing. Mrs. Hayes was right. You’re a very talented lady, but I can see you want to be alone. Forgive me for intruding.” His smile faded, and with a curt nod, he turned on his heel and walked back toward the house.

Jade blinked, unable to believe what had happened.

“Coltrane!” She heard a man’s voice amiably call out as he stepped through the door from the terrace. “How’s that new son of yours—and his mother?”

She winced with pain, hearing the ring of pride in Colt’s cheery response. “They’re great. Both of them. Mommy missed not being here tonight, but…” His voice disappeared within the noise and music.

A great shudder spread through Jade, beginning with her toes and moving all the way up, rendering her gratefully numb against the rolling nausea birthing within.

Dear God, she whispered as salty tears trailed down to her trembling lips, how could he pretend not to know her?

That, she acknowledged painfully, was the cruelest blow of all.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The rest of the evening ended in a blur. She immediately sought out Lita, complained of a headache, and left the party.

That night, she lay awake unable to sleep, torn between anguish and anger.

She acknowledged that, in the back of her mind, she’d always thought—maybe “feared” was a more apt description—that sooner or later she’d encounter Colt socially. True, he’d never cared for parties and such, but perhaps he’d married a woman who did, and he was associated with a prominent family through his employ—the Vanderbilts. She’d more or less steeled herself for that eventuality; had vowed to be cool, remote, immediately removing herself from the situation without a hint to anyone who might be around as to why the atmosphere was tense. However, she’d never dreamed Colt would just pretend not to know who she was. How could he have been so humiliating? Especially when there had been no one else about at the time? They’d been completely alone on the terrace. They could have talked, settled everything as to the roles they now played in life, agreed on anonymity and mutual behavior on the occasions when they unexpectedly ran into each other. So why had he chosen to hurt her? She’d never done anything to deserve that kind of treatment from him.

When the sun rose, Jade had not slept a wink. A glance in the mirror told her she looked terrible! Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. Her skin was sallow, and constant rolling and tumbling in bed had left her hair a tangled mess. With Bryan coming out early, she got up to see what she could do with herself lest he ask questions she didn’t want to answer. She had no intention of telling him she’d seen Colt.

Not yet.

Not until she decided what she was going to do about it.

And the more she thought about what she should do about it, the angrier she got.

How dare he?

So what if he had never loved her as she’d believed? Did he have to twist the knife deeper? Denigrate her as he had?

By the time Bryan arrived, just in time for the quiet little lunch she’d planned for the two of them on the veranda, Jade’s mind was made up. She had swallowed against the bitter bile in her throat, had complete control of her anger, frustration, and yes, her pride. There was only one thing to do, one way to handle the situation, and that was head-on.

She was going to find Colt, see him, talk to him, and ask him what the hell was going on!

Bryan never suspected the volcanic turmoil within her, for Jade was able to smile, chat amiably and happily about the weekend thus far. He regretted not having been there earlier, was more than eager to accept the Hayeses’ invitation for the afternoon and evening, and quite willing to leave as soon as they’d finished eating, at Jade’s suggestion.

Jade had plans…plans that made her feel a wee bit guilty because, in a way, she was using Bryan…using him to remind her that she no longer needed Colt, for any reason. She boldly led her husband upstairs to their bedroom, where she easily held him a willing captive for the next several hours as her passion seemed insatiable.

Early the next morning they returned to New York.

When Bryan left for his office—a new one a few blocks away from the building the fire had destroyed—Jade immediately found the address for the Vanderbilt office. It was a long ride from home, situated all the way across town, and it took her nearly an hour to get there by bicycle—the only form of transportation that afforded her absolute freedom from Lita. By the time she arrived, she was exhausted, and sought a bench beneath a shady tree to catch her breath before going into the impressive stone building.

Finally, she made her way in, heart pounding not from the arduous ride but from the apprehension over the impending encounter with a man she once loved but now coldly loathed and resented.

The reception room was beautifully furnished with bright floral sofas, pedestal tables with huge vases of fresh-cut roses, and tasteful paintings on the walls. Soft white drapes hung at the window, and the overall atmosphere was pleasing, not stuffy or crowded as were so many offices.

A young woman with bright blue eyes and a broad smile of greeting sat at a large receptionist’s desk. “Good afternoon. May I help you?”

“I’d like to see Mr. Coltrane, please. I don’t have an appointment, but—”

“Oh, Mr. Coltrane isn’t in,” the receptionist chirpily informed her. “Can someone else help you?”

Jade’s sharp “No!” provoked raised eyebrows.

The girl’s gaze flicked over Jade curiously. “Mr. Coltrane’s never in. He stops by once in a while, but I don’t make appointments for him. He’s never officially come to work here yet, and…” Her voice ebbed as her curiosity increased; then she sharply probed, “Just what is the nature of your business with Vanderbilt Enterprises?”

Jade had sensed her growing hostility, knew she had to tread softly or it would be a wasted trip. Pasting the same artificial smile on her face that the receptionist had at first presented, she glibly began, “Oh, I’m not here on any business. You see, I used to know Mr. Coltrane in Europe. I’m a friend of his parents and I was visiting here and they told me to be sure and look him up.”

The receptionist seemed relieved at such a simple explanation.

“Oh, I see. Well, no doubt you heard about the accident?” she asked, suddenly all compassion and sympathy.

Jade struggled for composure. “Yes, but I thought he was all right now.”

Glancing around anxiously as though someone might overhear, the young woman seemed enthused to be able to share thoughts she’d had to keep to herself. “Well, don’t say I’m the one who told you,” she said in a hushed tone, “but I don’t think he’s all right, and neither do the Vanderbilts. That’s why they keep telling him to just take more time off. He has these headaches, you see—”

“Headaches?” Jade repeated.

“Yes, because the way I heard it, he got quite a blow on the head. They thought for a while he wasn’t going to make it, you know.”

“No, I didn’t.” Jade shook her head, feeding the girl’s desire to gossip. “I guess they kept the full story from his parents because they’re getting on in years. His father hasn’t been well. I had no idea it was so serious.”

“Oh, yes, it was,” the girl breathed excitedly, eyes glowing with the excitement of being the one to tell her. “He got hurt on the ship on the way over here, they say, got hit on the head real hard, and for a long time he was unconscious. But he still has headaches, like I said, and the Vanderbilts just prefer he keep on resting till he’s completely okay. Besides, he just became a father for the first time, so he doesn’t even stop by anymore to see if they do want him to start work. He doesn’t need the money, anyway.”

Jade stared at her, not sure of what to say next.

“Didn’t you know about the baby?” the receptionist gloated.

“No,” she lied. “I haven’t been in contact with the Coltranes in a while. I’ve only been here a few weeks…just got around to looking up their son…” She then quickly decided to take advantage of the girl’s pride in giving out firsthand information. “Why don’t I go to his house, take a gift for the baby, and meet the whole family,” she said brightly. “Just give me his address, and I’ll be on my way.”

The girl did not hesitate, for she felt important having a hand in setting up a reunion of friends. She scribbled the address on a piece of paper and handed it to Jade. “Be sure to give Mr. Coltrane my regards. He’s such a nice man.”

Jade stared down at the exclusive Central Park address. “Yes,” she said evenly, a chill of loathing moving up and down her spine. “Yes, such a nice man…”

Jade made her way across town once more, oblivious to everything but the fact that she would soon be face-to-face with the wretched bastard who’d made a fool of her.

As she approached the house she sought, situated back from the street and surrounded by an ornate wrought-iron fence, Jade shuddered with ironic bitterness to think how many times she’d passed by this very home, going to and from teas in other houses, never knowing that Colt lived here. There should have been some kind of vibration, she thought angrily; a sudden roll of thunder or an earthquake,
something
to warn her such a treacherous soul was nearby.

Leaning her bicycle against the fence, she retied the ribbons of her flower-bedecked straw bonnet. She stared up at the regal white house with its wide front porch, the columns devoured by the remains of summer morning-glory vines, stained-glass windows in the austere turrets of each corner of the second floor. She knew she would probably encounter the new Mrs. Coltrane, but so what? Let her know the truth. Let her suffer as Bryan had suffered. Why should she be so gently padded from the realities of life? Why should she live happily ever after, with her adoring child and wonderfully loving husband—while Jade was relegated to being treated like a stranger by the man who’d once held her body and soul in the palm of his hand!

With a deep sigh of resolution, she walked purposefully up the brick sidewalk, up the narrow wooden steps, then lifted the brass ring of the door knocker and let it clang loudly.

As she waited, she glanced about at the pretty, cast-iron porch furniture, the potted palms, the carved wooden swing. In the yard, beneath the shading arms of a spreading oak, there were more of the popular cast-iron pieces, these painted white—a round table, four chairs, several benches.

Finally, from inside the house, she heard footsteps clattering, a breathless voice tinged with annoyance calling, “Yes, yes, I’m coming. I’m coming…”

The door opened and a plump, middle-aged woman in a long white muslin dress and apron peered out, obviously annoyed at the unexpected intrusion upon the household.

“You want something, ma’am?” the maid asked.

“Mr. Coltrane,” Jade said in a squeaky tone that sounded alien. “I’d like to see Mr. Coltrane.”

“He isn’t here,” the woman told her. “You can leave your card.” She made ready to close the door.

Jade put her hand against it. “When will he be back?”

“I don’t know.” The maid stared at her hand, frowned. “If you don’t want to leave your card–”

“Where can I find him?”

“He’s up in the Valley, visiting. Now, if you don’t mind, we’ve got a new baby in the house, and we’re terribly busy around here, and I—”

“But I must see him!” Jade did not move her hand on the door, also wedged her foot between. “Just tell me where he’s visiting, and I’ll go there.”
I’ve come this far
, she silently, furiously screamed,
and I’m not turning back till I find him…

The maid’s eyes narrowed. “How about seeing Mrs. Coltrane instead? I can tell her you’re here, if you’ll give me your card,” she added pointedly, hinting Jade was being socially ignorant.

“No, I don’t want to see her.”

Suddenly a curious and irritable voice rang out from somewhere within the house. “Annabelle! What’s going on down there? Who is it? You’re letting in flies, keeping the door open that way!”

Abruptly, the door flew wide open, and Jade found herself staring into the face of Triesta Vordane!

“What…what are you doing here?” Triesta gasped.

Jade was equally astonished. Had she been given the wrong address? No. Surely not. The maid had just asked if she cared to see
Mrs.
Coltrane. So why was Triesta Vordane there, seemingly right at home? Jade stiffened, felt anger, suspicion clutch her throat, her neck, move on down her spine to hold her up against the impulse to turn and run away. “What are
you
doing here?” she heard herself challenge.

Annabelle’s eyes suddenly bulged angrily. “Well, just who do you think you are, asking a question like that?” she snapped. “She happens to live here, and I think you’re rude, and you’d best leave before we call the police.”

“Enough, Annabelle.” Triesta, pale, mouth a grim, set line, put a slightly trembling hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle push. “Back to the kitchen. I’ll handle this.”