Newport Summer (13 page)

She hadn’t meant to pry, but certain words riveted her
attention: lists of names with English pounds next to
them. The name Andrew was scrawled at the bottom of
the sheet that peeped out from underneath the top paper.
“What’s all this, Gannon?” She held the top sheet up.

Gannon turned from the windows. “As I said, it’s my
work.” He was cool as he reached across the desk to
take the paper from her. Instinctively, Audrey raised the
paper out of his reach.

“What is your work, Gannon?” She met his gaze,
studying him for clues. He didn’t want her to see the
paper.

“It’s the finance sheet for Camberly,” he said at last
when it became clear she would not relent. “It’s very private to me. I would appreciate it if you would put it back”

Audrey stepped back. “And I would appreciate it if
you would explain it to me”

“As I said, it’s private,” Gannon insisted, starting to
move around the desk, intent on retrieving the paper.

“What are you hiding?” Audrey moved backward. She scanned the paper. “Schoolmaster Almsworthy and
school expenses, 240 pounds; pension to ex-gamekeeper
Ballings, twelve pounds” She fell quiet, reading silently.
There were salaries for pensioned workers, allowances for greataunts, salaries for current employees, and expenditures for the manor house, as well as expenses on
tenants’ homes and the church in the village.

She could feel Gannon’s eyes on her, but she couldn’t
stop. Audrey looked at the next page, full of totals for expenses, available income, and the shortfall total circled
in black at the bottom. There was a paragraph of apology
in what was likely Gannon’s brother’s hand and his signature.

“So now you know just how destitute we are,” Gannon said.

Audrey set the paper down. “I suppose I do. But that’s
not the point. I had no idea how immense this was.” She
was shocked. She’d ignorantly bought into the common
wisdom held by many wealthy New Yorkers and Americans regarding the “glamour” of the English country estate. But these balance sheets were not so much about
glamour as they were about responsibility. And Gannon’s responsibility was to people beyond his immediate
family. She had not properly understood, and it made the
news she had to tell him even more difficult.

“Gannon, I have to tell you something,” she said
slowly, taking time to gather her courage.

“I figured as much. You’ve been pensive since lunch.
What is it, Audrey?”

“It’s about Father’s railroad. He says the stock prices
aren’t falling as low as he’d like. If he buys now, the profits won’t be as great. But if he waits much longer to jump
in, he might miss the opportunity to corner the market altogether.” Audrey hedged. “It’s not as if the money will
be lost. It’s just that there isn’t as much of it as I’d hoped”
She shook her head, miserable. “I am so sorry, Gannon”
She gestured toward the pile of papers. She’d seen the totals. He couldn’t lie to her and say it didn’t matter. “What
are you going to do?”

Gannon smiled and stepped toward her, taking her
off guard. “I’m going to kiss you.”

And he did. Quite thoroughly.

B y the time she returned home, Audrey was still quite
shaken by the direction the afternoon had taken. Gannon’s kiss had left her wanting more instead of wanting
less. Even though his kiss, his declaration of feelings that
ran beyond friendship, were contrary to the agreement
they’d struck and their personal goals, she could not dismiss them simply because they weren’t relevant to her
and Gannon’s previously established parameters.

Oh, there was no doubt she wanted to feel different
about his stolen kisses. She wanted to dismiss them and
him as she had her other suitors. But Gannon was not of
their ilk, and he was not so easily dismissed or forgotten. She might succeed in dismissing him if she worked
hard enough, but she was highly skeptical of being able
to successfully forget him.

Herr Woerner was waiting for her in the conservatory when they arrived back home, and Audrey threw all her
concentration into the lesson. Her strategy was working
until her mother was called out of the room for a brief
moment, and Herr Woerner used the opportunity to slip
an envelope into the pages of her sheet music.

“I don’t pretend to know why a conservatory in Vienna would be writing to you at my address,” he said,
sounding a bit put out that he hadn’t been included in her
plans. “Nonetheless, they’ve sent this missive to me” He
shot her a questioning glance.

There wasn’t much time to explain. Her mother would
be back in the room momentarily. Audrey nodded. “I’ve
decided to go if they’ll have me.”

Herr Woerner nodded in return, a wealth of meaning
in his nod and short statement. “You are ready if that’s
the course you choose.”

The door opened, and Violet reentered the room, suspiciously eyeing them upon hearing the absence of piano music.

“I see how the trill should be played now,” Audrey
said in an overloud voice to compensate for the silence.

She was glad the lesson was nearly over. Between the curiosity at what the letter held and the confusion Gannon had wrought with his kiss, concentrating on music
was a definite difficulty. At last, the lesson drew to an
end, and Herr Woerner excused himself from the room
with a polite bow to her mother.

Her mother left shortly afterward, going upstairs to change for the evening entertainment. “I’ll be along
shortly,” Audrey promised. “I need to put the music
away.” She quickly improvised a half truth. But it was
enough to satisfy Violet.

Alone, Audrey opened the letter with trembling hands.
The postmark read two weeks prior. It was now nearly
the first of August. She’d waited all summer for the news.
Audrey read the first line and closed her eyes with joy to
savor the moment. She’d been accepted. Everything
she’d worked for, planned for, was coming true.

Audrey wished she could celebrate. But her joy was
hers alone. Her parents would certainly not understand.
Her father might pat her on the shoulder and congratulate her on the accomplishment the acceptance represented, but he would not advocate for her actually
attending the conservatory. Her mother would never understand. Her mother would, in fact, be embarrassed by
what her daughter had done.

That left Gannon. Of all the people she knew, Gannon was the most likely to share her excitement. If he
didn’t feel betrayed. Gannon would put all the pieces of
her scheme together and realize the part he’d played in
helping her manipulate the situation to her advantage.
He would see that she hadn’t been all that philanthropic
on his behalf. Of course, she had never hidden from
him the profit she was getting.

She’d told him from the first that she wanted her freedom. She just hadn’t told him what she wanted it for.
No, she couldn’t tell Gannon. So, that left no one. Well, she’d bear her excitement alone. Even if she’d felt she
could tell Gannon of her acceptance, it would be wrong
to celebrate in the wake of his disappointing news regarding the railroad. It didn’t seem fair that she should
have the success she’d hoped for, while his risk didn’t
appear to be paying off the way she’d planned.

But the fates were smiling on them that week. The
railroad stock finally took the plummet in prices her father had been expecting, and his investment group was
able to snatch up the majority of the stock at low prices.
Firmly in charge of the direction the short line railroad
would take, her father’s investors were now assured of
turning the huge profits they’d originally projected. Negotiations were already under way with a large railroad
that needed to acquire the line in order to continue theirs.

“Are you happy?” Audrey said, clearly pleased with
the news she was able to impart to Gannon as they drove
through the farmlands of Newport. With the exception
of her maid riding on the back of the carriage, they had
the rare luxury of being alone. Audrey thought this indulgence was probably part of her mother’s new strategy to get Gannon up to scratch with a proposal.

“You clearly are,” Gannon said cryptically, clucking to
the matched bays he’d borrowed from Lionel Carrington.

“Of course I am happy. Why shouldn’t I be?” Audrey turned her head to look at him. “You should be too. We’ve
accomplished what we set out to do. You have the money
you need for Camberly, and . .

“And you have your freedom,” Gannon said tersely. “Although for the life of me, I can’t fathom precisely
what you need your freedom for,” he groused moodily.

Audrey turned her gaze back to the road. She couldn’t tell him what she needed her freedom for. The best
she could do was to let him sulk if that was what he
wanted.

Gannon pulled the buggy up to a quiet meadow and
came over to help her down. The field was sprinkled with
wildflowers, and Audrey picked a few as they walked.
Still, Gannon said nothing.

“Are you always this peevish when you make money?”
Audrey asked, unable to stand the silence any longer.

“I am lost in thought, I suppose,” Gannon confessed.
“I hadn’t expected to hear good news on the investment. My head is swimming with ideas about how best
to use the money, what to do first”

“And what else?” Audrey pressed, intuitively feeling
that he was telling her only half of the truth.

“Well, here it is August. The summer has sped by in
a flurry of luncheons and balls. We have what we want,
as you pointed out. But that also means it’s time to say
good-bye, Audrey. Our agreement is at an end, and I
find that I don’t want to say farewell to you”

They’d come to a stream surrounded by shady trees.
Gannon bent down to grab up some pebbles and toss
them errantly into the rushing water.

“Now who is the one being plainspoken?” Audrey
tried to jest. His confession had certainly taken her by surprise. There was a depth of meaning behind his simple declaration, and she was moved by it.

Gannon tossed another pebble. “I can give you your
freedom, Audrey. Marriage is quite liberating for English women. It’s not like here in America. A married
Englishwoman can hold political salons and run charities that help people. Times are changing in Britain; a
new age is upon us. You could become a patroness of
the arts, sponsor a school. Anything you wish.”

Except be a concert pianist. She was pretty sure noblemen drew the line there. “Gannon, stop. You don’t
have to list your assets,” Audrey said. “I am touched you
feel this way, truly I am. But it can’t change anything. I
told you from the start, I don’t wish to be married to
anyone”

He was withdrawing from her again. She could see it
in the set of his jaw as he tossed his pebbles. She didn’t
want that. There were still four weeks until they had to
say good-bye. She couldn’t bear his stoic rejection that
long. An audacious plan blossomed in her mind. They
only had four weeks left. Nothing could change the quantity of time remaining to them. But she could change how
that time was spent.

Gannon was throwing rocks at a knothole in a tree
across the river now with a large amount of accuracy. Audrey picked up a small rock and threw it, coming close to
the target, close enough to get his attention. When he
turned to look at her, she said, “We can sulk away the next four weeks with remorse over things we can’t change, or
we can celebrate what our friendship has achieved. We
can’t simply start ignoring each other.”

“What are you saying, Audrey? Is this another of
your plans?” There was a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Boldly, Audrey stretched up to twine her arms about his neck. “I am saying we might as well enjoy each other
while we can.” It made sense to her in her desperate bid
to get what she wanted. She was going to Vienna, and he
was going back to England, free to marry whomever he
wanted. Why not seize the moment and indulge, within
reason, the attraction they’d fought so hard to keep in
check?

“I think that’s a very dangerous idea, Miss St. Clair,”
Gannon teased, but she noticed he didn’t make an effort to disengage her arms from about his neck. “Let
me get this straight. Seems while you’re not the marrying kind, you are the kissing kind.” His eyes laughed
down at her, and it felt good to fall into their easy comaraderie again.

“Apparently so, when it comes to the earl of Camberly” She laughed with him just before he decided to
test the hypothesis.

“She’s refused you?” Lionel asked later that night,
his blond eyebrows knitted together in consternation,
his eyes latched onto Gannon’s pacing form as Gannon
walked the length of the Carrington library and back.

“No, not exactly,” Gannon said, turning to do another
lap on the perimeter of the large Persian rug.

“Then she’s accepted your proposal?” Lionel said, his
confusion growing.

“No, not exactly.”

“It has to be one or the other.” Lionel blew out a frustrated breath and took a sip of his brandy.

“No, not exactly,” Gannon said for the third time.
Audrey had him spinning, there was no question about
it. For a woman who didn’t want to marry him, she certainly exhibited a fair amount of passion when they
were together. She was as honest in her ardor as she was
with her plainspoken frankness. That was where the
confusion existed. How could she say she didn’t want
to marry him and then kiss him as if their very souls
were entwined? Such a juxtaposition made no sense.