Authors: Brenda Joyce
“It’s all right,” Sofie said.
“Can you ever forgive me?”
“Yes. I already have.” Sofie went to Suzanne, who began weeping again. She stroked her back. “Now, will you come this afternoon to meet your granddaughter—finally?”
Suzanne sniffed and smiled, nodding slowly.
“This is a surprise,” Jake said.
Edward walked past him into the huge foyer. “I saw you there yesterday. At the exhibition. What in hell are you doing, Jake? Why are you torturing yourself like this?” He faced the older man, hands on his hips. “Come forward, Jake. I’ll prepare Sofie for your sudden emergence from the dead if you like. Please. She loves you. Come forward.”
Jake stared, eyes glowing, mouth grim and down-turned. “I’m a murderer. She’ll run away from me, screaming.”
“She thinks you’re a hero, not a murderer!” Edward snapped. “She’ll be thrilled that you’re alive!”
“I’ll brand her mother a bigamist. She’ll suffer from the scandal, too.”
Edward was furious. “Sofie has already suffered from the scandal of having my daughter out of wedlock. But if you want, you know damn well that we can keep this secret. No one needs to know you’re alive except for me and Sofie.”
Jake wet his lips. “I love her more than I love anyone or anything. I think she would be repulsed, and hurt, and shocked. She has everything now, wealth, respectability, marriage. She doesn’t need her father to rise up from the dead to haunt her life now, to jeopardize it all.” Jake stared, agonized. “If she runs away from me, I couldn’t bear it.”
“You don’t know your own daughter at all—but whose fault is that?” Edward stormed to the door, then turned. “You’re a big fat coward, Jake! Fine! Lurk in the shadows. Do I give a damn?” Edward jerked open the front door. “You missed out on your own daughter growing up—I don’t give a damn if you miss out on your granddaughter, too.”
Jake stared, expressionless and unmoving.
But Edward wasn’t through. “Oh, and by the way, Sofie and I have decided to have a real wedding after all. January first, one o’clock, St. Paul’s Church.” Edward’s smile was hardly pleasant. “But I forgot. A ghost can’t attend a wedding—he can only lurk about, hiding in corners!” He turned and slammed out.
Jake sank down into a chair, then covered his face with his hands and sobbed.
“Are you all right?”
Edward glanced at his older brother, Slade, who stood beside him near the front doors of the church, grinning from ear to ear despite the fact that neither one of them wore a coat and it was frigidly cold outside. Ahead of them their father, Rick, and Benjamin stood, greeting the last of the five dozen odd guests invited to attend Sofie and Edward’s wedding. Security guards had been hired to keep
out the curious public and greedy press. Sofie’s exhibition had fueled the gossip surrounding their scandalous love, as had the feature story in
Harper’s,
in which Sofie had admitted to falling in love with Edward the moment she had first seen him. They had decided not to use their wedding as a vehicle for more publicity, and newsmen were not allowed to attend the small event, although many members of the press had made it clear that they wished to attend. Still, Edward thought he’d spotted several reporters in the crowd so far, but how they had gotten their hands on invitations, he could not imagine.
“Well?” Slade jabbed him in the ribs. He was naturally swarthy, and just a hair shorter and leaner than Edward. His blue eyes twinkled and teased. Beside him a small, dark-haired boy of almost three gripped his hand, heavily bundled up, watching the milling crowd with wide eyes, and especially the many vehicles, which included several motorcars. “Car,” he said. “Go car park?”
Edward and Slade laughed. Edward had taken Nick for a drive in his Daimler the day he had arrived—and he had demanded another drive every day since. “Not today, Nick,” Slade said, rubbing his hands. His breath made vapor in the air.
“Go car!” Nick cried.
“Your uncle Edward is getting married,” Slade said, then grinned wickedly at Edward. “What’s wrong, Ed?”
“You know I could not eat breakfast this morning,” Edward growled, in no mood to be teased now, just minutes before actually getting married.
“Got a case of nerves?” Slade laughed.
“You are shameless, leasing him on his wedding day,” his wife, Regina, chastised, coming up behind the brothers and linking her arm with Slade’s. But she was smiling, a lovely golden-haired woman who was quite clearly pregnant with their second child beneath her fur-lined cloak.
“Thank you,” Edward said stiffly. “Of course I am nervous. I never thought I’d actually do this!”
Slade sobered. “You’re marrying a wonderful woman, Ed.”
Edward gave him a look of utter exasperation. “I am not afraid of marriage—not to Sofie. Not anymore. But I really would have preferred eloping!”
Slade and Regina chuckled. Slade said dryly, “You won’t think that way when you see your pretty bride come floating up the aisle with her eyes all shiny with love for you.”
“Is that how I looked?” Regina asked, pressing close.
Slade bent his head, kissed her small nose. “Actually, you were terrified.”
Regina smiled. “I had better get back to the bride. Nick, Mama’s going back inside.”
But Nick was too busy watching the cars to pay his mama attention, and Regina slipped away after squeezing Edward’s arm.
Edward turned away from her, his heart was racing far too fast, and although it was not hot out, he was sweating. He could imagine Sofie just as Slade had described, and he was so excited—and nervous—he could not quite stand it.
Then he stiffened. “Christ!”
Slade came to attention, followed his gaze. “Who is it? A reporter?”
Edward stared at the tall, tanned, golden-eyed man strolling casually past both Rick and Benjamin—with utterly cool nerve. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered. Then, “I’m not going to let him get away with it!”
And Edward rushed into the church after Jake O’Neil.
Sofie went to the door of her dressing room and pressed her ear against it, listening to the organ music. It was New Year’s Day, nineteen hundred and three—her wedding day—and her heart beat wildly.
Edward’s family had arrived three days ago, just in time for all of the wedding festivities. Since they had begun planning their wedding, Sofie had learned that her groom had been born and raised on a California ranch which had belonged to his family for two generations. She had been thrilled to finally meet his family, and had been warmly welcomed into their midst. Everyone had come—his father. Rick, his mother, Victoria, his brother Slade and
Slade’s wife, Regina—everyone except for his oldest brother, James, whose whereabouts were not known. James had been wandering the world for several years now.
It had been a wonderful reunion for Edward and his family; Sofie had seen that at once. The two brothers were clearly very close, and father and son obviously cared deeply for each other. Sofie knew a little bit about Edward’s relationship with his mother before his family had arrived. His parents were separated and lived apart, and Sofie knew that Edward had not spoken to his mother in three years. Somehow he seemed to blame her for the separation. Sofie was very glad that he had ended that nonsense once and for all. She had seen at once that Victoria missed Edward desperately, that she loved him as only a mother can love her son. She had sobbed when Edward had walked into her arms.
Sofie’s wedding was almost perfect. Almost.
For Lisa was not there. Lisa was still hiding in Newport Beach. She had telephoned Sofie once to reassure her of her welfare and to learn what was happening with the marquis. Sofie had told Lisa that with every passing day, St. Clare grew more determined to find her and wed her. Sofie had tried to convince Lisa to come home and face him and cry off herself, but Lisa refused. She was certain his pride would finally take the beating she intended it to take, that he would ultimately turn tail and run home to his run-down ancestral estates. Sofie had seen him periodically, and she doubted it. He was more furious than ever as time crept by without his locating his errant bride. More furious and more determined.
Sofie had persuaded Lisa to pen a short note to her father to relieve his tremendous anxiety, and that note had arrived two weeks ago. Benjamin had gone from being severely distraught to furious, and had put his detectives on the new clue to his daughter’s whereabouts immediately. Sofie had a bad feeling that Lisa’s days of freedom were numbered.
Sofie knew she should not think about Lisa now. Today was a day for joyous thoughts. She had asked Rachelle, Regina, and Victoria to give her and her mother a moment alone, and now she cracked open the door to call them back.
It was then that she realized that the music had stopped, and her own heart seemed to stop as well.
“Well, being as the music has stopped, I can only assume that all the guests have arrived and been seated,” Suzanne said. “Come, Sofie. we must put on your veil. It is only a matter of minutes until you walk down the aisle.”
Sofie began to tremble, assailed with real bridal nerves. In her mind’s eye she saw Edward standing at the end of the aisle in his black tuxedo, waiting for her—and then she saw herself gliding towards him in a cloud of white. Excitement, joy, and love washed over her with stunning force, making her feel faint. But now was not the time to succumb to nerves. In a few more minutes the ceremony would begin—and she would finally become Edward Delanza’s wife. It seemed that she had waited a lifetime for this moment, for this stunning gift of fate.
“What in hell do you think you’re doing?” Edward demanded.
Jake froze. He had just taken his seal in the rear pew and they were alone, the rest of the wedding guests taking up the six front rows. “You know why I’m here. Now, get lost. Delanza.”
Edward reached out and gripped Jake’s suit by its narrow lapels. “No! The time for games is over!”
Jake paled.
Edward leaned close, furious. “I’m going to drag you in to meet her, Jake, whether you want to or not. If you want to fight and make a scene, hey, that’s fine with me. I’m not the one who’s going to be sent back to prison if I’m recognized.”
Jake slowly got to his feet. “You bastard.”
“Sofie needs to know that you’re alive.”
“Edward—you can’t imagine what prison is like. I can’t go back there.”
“And you won’t. Not if you come with me willingly.”
“Why are you doing this!?” Jake cried.
“Because I can’t stand to see you suffering needlessly like this—you fool.” Edward looped his arm in his. “Because Sofie loves you—because I love her.”
The two men’s gazes met. And finally, finally, Jake nodded.
“Oh, Sofie,” Regina cried. “You are stunning—I can’t wait for Edward to see you like this.”
Sofie smiled at her sister-in-law, a woman Sofie had liked and respected enormously the moment they had met. Regina was not just utterly lovely and elegant and ladylike, but warm and kind and generous. “Thank you,” she whispered, her heart pounding at a dangerous rate. “But I fear I may never make it down the aisle—I feel quite faint.”
“Come, sit down,” Victoria said, helping Sofie sit without wrinkling her full skirts. Rachelle brought her a cup of water, Suzanne gripped her shoulder, and Regina cheerfully slipped smelling salts out of her reticule. “Just in case,” she said, smiling.
There was a knock on the door.
“That must be Benjamin,” Suzanne said tensely, looking very pale now and on the verge of tears all over again. “Sofie, do you want a whiff of the salts?”
Sofie shook her head no while Regina ran to the door. They both glimpsed Edward standing there with another man at the same instant. Regina immediately tried to slam the door closed on Edward. “You can’t see the bride now!” she cried, panicked.
Sofie was standing. “Edward!?” Her initial reaction of gladness at seeing him changed to fear. And she saw the man standing beside him—and it was the golden-eyed stranger she had remarked at her exhibition and at Lisa’s engagement party.
“This is important,” Edward said, stepping past Regina and into the room. Sofie saw that he held the other man tightly by the arm. Very white, Regina closed the door behind them—and Sofie heard Suzanne cry out.
Sofie turned as her mother crumpled into the chair she had just vacated, tears pouring down her cheeks. “No, no,” she moaned.
Stunned, she felt a sudden, dark inkling stab her, one too incredible for Sofie to truly comprehend. She glanced at
Edward and the stranger, then sank down beside her mother. “Mother? What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Oh. God,” Suzanne moaned, covering her face with her hands and weeping.
Slowly Sofie turned. Edward stood before her and he gripped her hands tightly. “Sofie, darling, you’re going to be shocked.”
Sofie glanced numbly past Edward, whom she trusted with her very life, and at the stranger—who stared at her with heart breakingly familiar eyes.
“Your father, Jake, is not dead,” Edward said. “He never died in that fire. His partner died—he escaped. And he’s been hiding from the law ever since.” Edward’s eyes held hers, intense and urgent, but his tone was soothing and calm.
Sofie jerked her hands free, staring at the golden-eyed man who had always appeared so familiar to her. “No!” she cried, too shocked to think. “My father is dead!”
The man stepped forward, into the center of the room. He was haggard, pale, his eyes glistening. “Sofie, darling, forgive me,” he whispered.
And Sofie froze. Because Jake had a distinct voice, a tone she would never forget, one both as rough as sandpaper and as smooth as silk. Their eyes locked. Recognition leapt from deep in her soul, and Sofie gave a small and glad cry.
Jake went rigid as Sofie rushed into his arms.
“Father!” she gasped, hugging him, her cheek pressed against his chest. And as she embraced him, his arms went around her and he leaned over her and crushed her to him, tears pouring down his face.
“Daughter,” he whispered. “Oh, God, I never thought I’d see this day.”
And behind them. Suzanne had stopped crying, watching fearfully, while Edward smiled, his heart expanding impossibly with joy. The tip of his nose had turned red.