Thorne Brothers: With All My Heart Part 2

"No," Anderson said. "No, it's quite all right. This will pa.s.s quickly." Even as he said the words he felt his wife steady herself. She blinked several times, her long lashes fluttering; then they lifted and fully erased the hint of shadow beneath her eyes. In contrast to the heat that ran just below the surface of her skin, her face was pale and her lips nearly colorless.

"I'm fine," she said. There was no particular insistence in her tone, so the others were surprised when Anderson let her go. "Thank you," she told her husband. "I do believe I'd like to sit down."

The immediacy with which she was offered a chair by all of them was almost laughable. Berkeley accepted the one Anderson arranged for her. Once she was seated Jonna and Mercedes followed suit, occupying the cream-brocade settee. Still holding the black-lacquered box, Colin hooked one hip on the high arm of the settee and settled for this half-standing, half-sitting posture beside his wife. Decker leaned against the green-veined marble mantelpiece, his trim, athletic frame seemingly without tension.

Anderson Shaw remained standing, taking a position slightly behind Berkeley's chair, with his hands resting on the polished cherry backrail. "Go on, my dear," he urged gently. "You've learned something, haven't you? Tell His Lordship what you can about this earring."

Berkeley swiveled on the chair. She sought out her husband's warmly colored eyes as if for rea.s.surance. Her own eyes, impossibly large in her small heart-shaped face, implored him. Must she? she asked him without words. His reply was there in the faint nod of his head. Yes, she must.

Berkeley unfolded her fingers and stared at the earring. It was virtually identical to the previous one she held. It only felt different. "There are so many emotions here," she said on a thread of sound. "So much pain. I can'ta" She turned the earring over carefully and held it in place with the fingertips of her other hand. "Yes, this is better. It's difficult to distinguisha" She looked up suddenly at Colin, and for once the implacability of his dark eyes had no impact on her. "I can hardly say with any certainty that you've handled this earring, yet I feel your presence strongly in it. You must have been very young when you surrendered it." She paused over her own word choice. "Yes, surrender. That has the right feel. You gave it willingly, I think, but you gave up something of yourself. You meant it to be a link that would identify its owner to you in later years."

Berkeley heard the sharp intake of breath that came from Mercedes Thorne. She closed her eyes briefly and calmed her thinking again. "The age of this piece makes it hard to know what is long past and what is recent past. I may confuse the two from time to time." She regarded Colin once more. "Your brother is very much alive. He held on to this piece for a long time, I would say. It was lucky for him, or at least he a.s.sociated it with being lucky. Perhaps he regarded it as a talisman of sorts. I doubt it was ever out of his possession for long. He must feel now as if something has been torn from him." She hesitated, shaking her head. "No, that's not quite right. It would be more like not being able to draw a full breath."

Jonna could not help the wide-eyed look she shot her husband. Decker did not return her gaze though. His full attention was riveted on Berkeley Shaw.

At the periphery of her vision Berkeley was aware of Jonna's darting glance, the surprise in her violet-colored eyes. Berkeley's own features remained schooled, as if nothing untoward had happened. "I believe your brother is a careful man," she continued. "He certainly was with this piece, but there is something else in his nature. It is harder to describe accurately. A certain recklessness, I think. A carelessness that he uses as a shield when he cares very deeply." Her pale lips formed an apologetic smile. "I don't know if that makes any sensea" She shrugged. "It's what I feel."

"It makes sense," Jonna said dryly, with a touch of irony. She had stopped looking at Decker and was now eyeing Colin with something akin to disapproval. "Please, tell us what else you can."

"I'm afraid this has me confused," Berkeley said. "One of you may know what it means. I think this earring may have been part of a larger collection at one time. I don't mean as part of the queen's jewels. It wasn't that long ago. The other jewelry in the collection kept changing. Yes, I'm certain of that. Only this remained as a constant." She frowned as an explanation occurred to her, and her finely arched brows came together. Berkeley drew in her lower lip, worrying it gently as she considered how she might put it forth.

Anderson touched his wife's shoulder lightly. "It does no good to hold it back, dearest. Say what's on your mind. Leave it to them to sort out. No one has asked you only to tell them pleasantries."

Berkeley nodded. Anderson was right, of course, and if she wasn't mistaken, the Earl of Rosefield, though he remained silent and impa.s.sive, seemed to be willing her to offer up her explanation. "I'm very much afraid, Your Lordship, that your brother may have been a thief." Berkeley sat back suddenly as Jonna Thorne leaped to her feet.

Jonna advanced on her husband, who was no longer leaning so casually against the mantel. "You knew Colin was going to give Mrs. Shaw your earring, didn't you?"

Decker didn't deny it. "We had to be sure, Jonna."

"Well, I hope this has satisfied you," she said flatly. Her violet eyes blazed for a moment, then she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I know you and Colin have doubts. Do you think I didn't share them? I thoroughly researched the Shaws' successes before I ever wrote to Mercedes about them. And I made inquiries through friends before I ever invited the Shaws to Boston. I didn't arrange this on a whim, Decker. I would have hoped that you and Colin could have trusted me more."

"I have every trust in you," Decker told her. He searched her upturned face before his eyes came to rest steadily on hers. "Colin and I believe you did all that was in your power to do. It never occurred to us that you would be anything less than meticulous in your research. But what my brother and I arranged here had to be done. We had to be certain they weren't frauds."

Jonna said nothing for a moment; then she nodded faintly. "Yes, of course, you're right. You had to be certain." Her hand touched his forearm, and her slender fingers tightened briefly. There was a.s.surance in the gesture, encouragement and support. Jonna let her hand fall. She turned to Colin and pointed to the box. "May I?'' she asked.

He held it out to her. His hand was shaking.

Jonna did not miss the stricken look in Colin's eyes. That he had let his guard drop in front of the Shaws for even a moment spoke to the powerful effect of Berkeley's revelations. Jonna brushed his hand with hers as she took the box. She lowered her eyes to the place she had vacated beside Mercedes and indicated that Colin should sit there. He required no further urging.

Jonna went to stand in front of Berkeley Shaw. She lifted the lid on the box and revealed the identical twin of the earring Colin had given Berkeley. Removing it, she held it in her hand until Berkeley put back the one in her possession. "No more trickery, Mrs. Shaw. This is the earring that Graham Denison left behind five years ago. The other that caused you so much discomfort belongs to my husband. Everything you sensed about ita"and hima"was true. I didn't antic.i.p.ate their plan because Colin gave you the earring. It is Decker's sleight of hand that bears watching. Not only was Captain Thorne a thief, he was an exceptional one."

Berkeley Shaw had not expected Jonna Thorne to admit her husband's criminal past, certainly not with this odd mixture of exasperation and pride. "Then it is perfectly understandable that the captain would be suspicious of us," Berkeley said. "He knows better than any of you how important it is to gain the confidence of the victims. From his point of view it may look like that's what Mr. Shaw and I are doing."

Jonna was visibly taken back by that statement. "What do you mean?"

"Mrs. Thorne," Berkeley said patiently. "My husband and I are not the first people one usually calls for in a case such as this. I imagine a lot of effort, time, and expense has gone into looking for Graham Denison. And yet you have nothing. No one has been able to find him. Not only that, but I am aware that none of you is certain that Mr. Denison is really the missing brother. He was merely last in possession of the earring, isn't that so?"

"That's right," Jonna said.

"Well, then, I take that as proof that the four of you have exhausted every other resource for finding Mr. Denison. That makes you desperate, and that, Mrs. Thorne, makes you vulnerable. I'm not terribly insulted by the attempts to test me. At least not as insulted as my husband is on my behalf. Truly, I would have been more surprised if nothing had been done to make me prove my mettle. My particular talent is not at all the usual thing and lies outside the experience of most people."

Anderson stroked Berkeley's shoulder. She was generally not so outspoken. This speech and her quiet vehemence surprised him. They hadn't discussed this beforehand and any deviation from their normal interviews caused him concern. "Perhaps you should take the earring," he prodded gently. "As you said, these people want to know what you can tell them."

Berkeley took the earring from Jonna's hand. She did not know what to expect when she held it. She was even less sure what they expected. Her fingers made a fist, and she secured the gold and pearl earring against her heart.

Almost immediately her ears roared with the rush of blood. Berkeley knew she gasped although the sound was lost to her. She laid her free hand over her fist to keep from throwing the earring across the room. The words came without any conscious thought on her part: They came for the baby first. Had she said them aloud? Had anyone heard her? Yes, Colin Thorne must have. The Earl of Rosefield was staring directly at her, and for once there was no shield to hide his stunned expression.

"They came for the baby first," Berkeley repeated. "He's very small. Still in arms. Of course they would want him. It's a terrible place they're taking him from. Not evil. But terrible just the same. There is fear here. And hurt. It's dangerous and hard."

Mercedes had moved to the very edge of the settee. Her hands had tightened in her lap. As if she still wasn't close enough, she leaned forward, her gray eyes hinting of both anxiety and awe. "She's talking about Cunnington's Workhouse," she whispered. "How can she know about it?"

Similarly amazed by Berkeley Shaw's revelations, no one answered Mercedes. No one had an answer.

Words continued to rush out of Berkeley. Her attention remained focused on Colin. "You want the baby gone from this place but you're sad as well. They don't want Decker. They don't want you. The couple takes your infant brother, and you know you may never see him again. The earring, you think. You will place this family heirloom in his blankets. You will find this brother later, when you are older, and you will know him because of the earring. You will never forget what it looks like. Its image is graven in your mind."

Berkeley closed her eyes a moment. The roar in her ears was steady, but softer now. She could almost hear her own voice. Had she shouted? She tried to loosen her grip on the earring, but her white-knuckled fingers wouldn't open. The gold post on the pearl dug into the very center of her palm. "I can't make out what happened then. There are so few cluesa I think the earring must have been found and put away. No one touches it for a long timea yearsa and then he finds it anda" Berkeley's voice trailed off. "So much anger. Betrayal. He thinks of revenge often. He thinks of hurting people." There was panic in her voice now, and her eyes clouded. "There is danger again. Great risks. He is not as he seems. There is someone else. Please, take it. I cannota pleasea"

Jonna started to reach for Berkeley's hand, but Decker stopped her. "Let her finisha"if she can."

Anderson Shaw nodded. "Your husband's right. She won't pick it up again if you take it now. Let her finish."

Jonna had no liking for their decision, but she let it rest. "If she asks againa" She didn't have to complete her thought. Her intention was clear.

Berkeley was aware of conversation around her but not the content or the outcome. What she knew with certainty was that she still held the earring. The next wave of heat from it was accompanied by a wave of nausea. The room started to spin. "He comes to you." The words were spoken suddenly, force fully, as though she were compelled to say them, even against her will. Berkeley was no longer addressing Colin. Her body had shifted slightly. She looked past Jonna Thorne's shoulder to where Decker stood at the fireplace. "He comes here, to you. He is in pain. He thinks he may die." Berkeley frowned as the emotions she felt leaped forward in time. "It's yours again. You hold the earring; you think it's yours." Her voice diminished to a whisper. "You only realize the truth after he's gone. You try to catch hima you can't. He disappearsa hea""

Berkeley cried out, startled and in pain. She shot to her feet and flung her arms outward. The earring made an arc of gold light as it was hurled toward the window. It skittered across the gla.s.s like a water strider skimming a pond before it dropped to the fringed perimeter of the carpet. As though they expected it to move under its own power, everyone save Berkeley stared at it. Berkeley stared at the droplet of blood in the heart of her palm.

They would notice her again, she thought, when she fainted.

Berkeley's lashes fluttered open. Her brow wrinkled and her mouth curled to one side. She made a halfhearted attempt to push away the smelling salts that were being waved under her nose.

"She's coming around nicely, Mercedes," Jonna said. "I think you can put the salts away."

Mercedes corked the bottle and set it on the stand beside the settee. She saw Berkeley's eyes wander about the room. "Your husband has gone with Colin and Decker to the library. It was Jonna's idea to banish them, and I quite agreed. Men are invariably not at their best around a woman suffering from the vapors."

Berkeley's reaction was somewhat defensive. "I don't have the vapors. I've never fainted before." She struggled to sit up, but Mercedes laid a gentle, but firm hand on her shoulder and held her in place. "I really should like to go now."

Jonna pulled a chair up to the settee and sat. "It's been a trying experience," she said. There was no condescension in her tone. "I can't say I would want to go through what you did. May I?"

Berkeley was unsure what she was being asked to give permission to, but she nodded anyway. Her right hand was immediately taken by Jonna, and the palm was turned up.

"Do you have a handkerchief, Mercedes?" Jonna asked. "I seem to always misplace mine."

Mercedes gave hers over and watched as Jonna wiped away the droplet of dried blood at the center of Berkeley's palm. Almost immediately another crimson drop bubbled to the surface. "Let her make a fist around it," Mercedes suggested. "It will stop the bleeding."

Jonna folded Berkeley's fingers around the handkerchief and held them in place. "There. That's better, isn't it? You wouldn't want to ruin your gown."

Berkeley didn't care at all about the state of her gown. She didn't say so though for fear of offending the other women. They were both so fashionably turned out that she couldn't imagine they would understand or appreciate her lack of concern. Anderson had chosen the leaf green silk gown she wore now. He said he had a particular fondness for this dress because it made her own eyes seem impossibly green. To Berkeley's way of thinking the gown was merely a uniform, and she wore it because it was what was required for the occasion. "How did I cut myself?" she asked.

Jonna's dark brows lifted in surprise. "You don't know?"

Mercedes smiled. "I believe if Mrs. Shaw knew, she wouldn't have asked, Jonna." Mercedes turned her attention back to Berkeley. "I think the earring's post punctured your hand. You were holding it very tightly. I shouldn't wonder that your fingers will be stiff."

Berkeley flexed her fingers around the handkerchief. Mercedes Thorne had accurately described the state of her hand. "I didn't damage it, did I?"

"Oh no, not even when you threw it."

"I threw it?"

"Yes, you did. Quite forcefully, too. I take it that's never happened before."

"Never," Berkeley said. The quick, negative shake of her head lent veracity to her denial. "Who would invite me to handle their priceless valuables if I had a reputation for throwing them?" She hesitated, her eyes darting pleadingly between Jonna and Mercedes. "You won't say anythinga I mean, it would damage my reputaa""

"You have no reason to fear on that account," Jonna said quietly.

Berkeley heard Mercedes murmur her agreement, and she finally relaxed. "Was I at all helpful?" she asked. She saw the women exchange cautionary glances. Berkeley sighed. "I suppose not. I'm sorry. As you know from your research, I am not always entirely successful. I wish it could have been different for both of you and your husbands."

"It's not that you weren't successful," Mercedes said. "It's just that you told us mostly what we already knew. It confirmed your incredible gift but didn't give us much hope that we could find Graham Denison."

Jonna tucked a loose tendril of glossy black hair behind her ear. Her widely s.p.a.ced, beautifully colored violet eyes were solemn. "Thirty years ago Colin, Decker, and Greydon were orphaned when their parents were murdered. The details of that aren't important now." She cast a look sideways at Mercedes, a.s.suring her that what she said was true. "My husband was four, Colin eight, and Greydon, as you understood from holding the earring, was but an infant. No family could be found to take them, so they were placed in a London workhouse for foundlings and orphans. You described it as a hard, terrible place, and it was. Greydon was the first to be taken, just as you said. Colin believes that the couple who adopted him planned to pa.s.s him off as their own child. He could be christened with any name today."

Mercedes brushed the back of Berkeley's hand. "He could be named Graham Denison."

"Is it true then?" Berkeley asked. "Did I confirm that Grey-don and Graham are one and the same?"

Shaking her head slowly, her eyes regretful, Mercedes withdrew her hand and laid it in her own lap. "No, you didn't confirm it. You didn't hold out any hope. Quite the opposite, in fact. Just before you fainted you told us Graham Denison was dead."

Berkeley's luminous eyes widened. "I said that?" she asked incredulously. "Are you certain there was no misunderstanding?"

"There was no mistaking your words," Jonna said. "We can only hope mat you're mistaken." She hesitated, then rushed forward with her thoughts before she reconsidered them. "My husband was separated from Colin not long after Greydon was taken. He was raised by two actors who claimed they were missionaries when they went to the workhouse. In reality they were thieves, and they raised Decker to fend for himself on the streets. The earring that was in his possession was very much his talisman, just as you sensed.

"Colin spent most of his life searching for his brothers. He was on the point of believing nothing would come of it when Decker appeared. Perhaps you won't find it at all odd that it was the earring that brought them together. That was almost ten years ago."

Jonna looked to Mercedes for some a.s.surance that she was doing the right thing by revealing these details. Mercedes's faint nod was all she needed to continue. "My husband left England for Boston shortly after that. At Colin's suggestion he came to work for Remington Shipping. He met Graham Denison in the course of his duties for the Remington line. They discovered they had some shared interests and formed an alliance of sorts, but theya""

Berkeley interrupted. Her skin was flushed suddenly, and this time the heat went all the way to her cheeks. In spite of the window that had been opened for her comfort, she was uncomfortably warm. "May I have something to drink?"

Mercedes rose gracefully to her feet. "Of course. I should have thought of it myself. Do you want spirits, tea, ora""

"Tea, please."

Mercedes reached for the ta.s.seled bellpull just inside the door and rang for a servant. A young Negress appeared almost immediately, and Mercedes sent her out again for a tray of tea and cakes. "It will only be a few minutes," she said as she returned to Berkeley's side.

"Thank you," Berkeley said. Her eyes strayed to Jonna's. "Forgive me. You were saying something about your husband's common interests with Mr. Denison. Do those interests involve the abolitionist movement?"

Not for the world would Jonna admit to that. She lied without hesitation. "My husband is not involved in that cause, though there is some sympathy for it. Mr. Denison, as you seem to know, had earned the name Falconer for his part in liberating slaves." Jonna did not mind sharing this last information. It was printed in papers from Augusta to Atlanta, and Graham Denison was either a hero or a villain. Whether he received accolades or epithets depended on geography. North of Mason-Dixon he typically was lauded. South of that demarcation, he was a pariah. Still, what the papers had printed as fact, wasn't the entire story, and Jonna kept these secret truths to herself.

"My husband and Graham became friends but not complete confidants. I don't think it is in either of their natures to be forthcoming with their pasts. We know that Graham has a family in South Carolina. A younger brothera his parents and grandparents. Remington Shipping had done business with the Denisons for years. Their plantation is outside Charleston. They call it Beau Rivage.'' She intercepted Berkeley's inquiring look. "It means Beautiful Sh.o.r.e."

Berkeley nodded and hoped her cheeks weren't flushed with her embarra.s.sment. She felt impossibly young and ignorant in the presence of these women. It was a wonder they had any patience for her. As they had pointed out, she hadn't revealed any new knowledge to them. She had only told them what they already knew. She wondered if they understood that that was her very special talent.

The arrival of the tea kept her from blurting out that admission. She was allowed to sit up as Mercedes poured from the silver service. Berkeley examined her palm and found the bleeding had stopped. She traded the soiled handkerchief for a cup of warm tea. "Captain Thorne didn't know that Mr. Denison was in possession of the earring?'' she asked.

Jonna shook her head. "Not until Graham had left Boston. We found the earring here among some clothes that were meant to be laundered."

"It seems odd that he didn't ask after it."

"We always thought so, but then perhaps he didn't have the same attachment to it that Decker and Colin do. It is the only explanation that really satisfies any of us." She sighed and raised her own cup slowly to her lips. "In spite of that we began a search for him. Decker took out the Remington flagship Huntress and chased down the ship Graham was on." Only a small measure of the enormous disappointment she had experienced on that occasion was revealed now. "He was no longer aboard when we caught the Siren. He had disembarked in Philadelphia. It surprised us. Siren was on her way to China. Graham had signed on for the voyage. He had seemed excited about the prospect, then he disappeared." Jonna took a large swallow of her tea then set the cup and saucer down. "It's been a little more than five years, Mrs. Shaw. We've never heard from him, and we've never been able to find him. I find myself quite prepared to believe Graham Denison is dead."

Mercedes gasped softly. "You don't mean that, Jonna."

"I do," she said. "G.o.d forbid, I don't wish it. He saved my life, Mercedes. I owe him so much, but it's as if he's fallen off the face of the earth. I can't credit his consciously making such a complete break with his past."

"There may be a reason," Mercedes insisted. "If he were engaged in the Underground again, for instance, secrecy would be a necessity."

"There would have been word by now," Jonna said. "A hint. He knew he would be cut off from the Denisons, but there was no reason to do the same with his friends."

Mercedes persisted with gentle reasoning. "You only mean that you don't understand his purpose."

Berkeley realized her cup was rattling ever so slightly against the saucer. She willed her hands to be steady, hoping her voice would follow. "You mustn't accept anything I said while holding the earring as an absolute," she told Jonna.

"You had already thrown the earring," Jonna said. "Your hands were over your ears and you were on the point of collapsing when you told us Graham Denison was dead."

"And that's the last thing I said?" Berkeley asked. She knew immediately that she had been wrong to hope it was. Jonna and Mercedes exchanged a look again, and it was clear they were wondering what they could or should tell her. "Please, I have no recollection of what happened in those last moments. Can you not say anything?"

"Your husband requested our silence," Mercedes answered. Her questioning gaze was her admission that she didn't completely agree with his reasoning. "He said it would cause you further upset."

Berkeley could not still her trembling hands this time. "Then I must have mentioned San Francisco."

"Yes," Jonna said. "You did. I didn't hear you. Mr. Shaw had caught you in your fall by that time, but your lips were moving around the words. He told us what you said."

"And my exact words?"

"'You can find him in San Francisco.'" Jonna looked to Mercedes for confirmation.

"That's right," Mercedes agreed.

"It doesn't make sense," Berkeley objected. "I told you that Graham Denison was dead and you could find him in San Francisco?"

"It made sense enough to our husbands," Jonna said. "They're with Mr. Shaw right now arranging for your pa.s.sage and enough funds to support your investigation for six months.''

Berkeley reached over the high arm of the settee and placed her cup and saucer on the end table. She stood quickly and was immediately light-headed. She swayed on her feet before she reached for the brocade arm to steady herself. With the ease of a wraith, Berkeley pa.s.sed the arms that were outstretched to help her. With a light, silent tread she hurried toward the parlor's pocket doors. Pushing them open she barged directly into her husband's chest.

Anderson's arms secured her with the strength of iron bars. "What is this?" he said, his manner patiently jovial. "Why, you're out of breath, Berkeley. Has something frightened you?'' He looked over the crown of his wife's pale hair to where Jonna and Mercedes stood. Neither woman was entirely successful in schooling her features. "I see," he said slowly. "I take it they told you."

Berkeley drew back as much as she was able and raised her face. "I begged them, Anderson. It really isn't their fault."

Mercedes and Jonna looked away guiltily, caught their husbands' disapproving glances, and looked to opposite sides of the parlor.