chapter 14
Monday, September 3
Caden rose from his chair in the study and paced back and forth in front of his desk. Since discussing the next step of his plan with Rebecca, he preferred the solitude of his private chambers or the company of his trusted man, Edward.
He needed to consider all options and possibilities. Edward’s private sources had proved correct, so now nothing could be left to fate or chance if he was to finish this McGowan business once and for all.
Pausing on the carpet, he turned and looked out the study window at the uncommonly gray and cloudy summer sky. Clammy chills of the approaching evening pricked his exposed skin. The sharp, stabbing pain in his groin meant more immediate warmth was needed.
He put on his crimson, silk Chinese housecoat and tied the gold belt around his waist. He poured himself another cup of strong black tea and sipped. Feeling his body enclosed in growing warmth, his thoughts turned to the much anticipated visit of Gabrielle that evening.
The long talks with Arley over the last several weeks were beginning to bear fruit. Arley was a sensible man who knew the value of the Society’s contact with the best and brightest men that the future would have to offer. Yes. A concerned father’s obligations were to his children first.
Caden sat down behind this desk, opened his diary, and started his Monday evening entry.
Tonight, the future begins for both of us. As the persistent waves of the tireless sea transform the earth’s jagged shore into smooth rock and sand, so to will my words recast one woman’s uninformed reluctance into loving loyalty.
Caden closed the brown leather cover of his diary and snapped the cap on his fountain pen. He turned to look at himself in the full length closet mirror, wanting to confirm the appearance of a mature man worthy of commanding unquestioning devotion in a younger woman of such refined breeding.
In his opinion, the rosy twilight filtering through the study window gave his patrician and dignified features a subtle warmth and vitality that did much to soften the impact of his imposing appearance.
He lifted his head and spoke as if rehearsing for one of his lectures. “The slaves to mediocrity and myth are bound by more than the fetters of custom and the familiar: they are servants, bonded to sluggish thought and barren dreams, and hence, incapable, by virtue of their self-imposed enslavement, of cultivating anything of intrinsic and lasting value for mankind. Only those with the highest ideals and the strongest character will have the courage to give birth to the new era.”
Caden extended his hand as if inviting his unseen beloved to take hold. “Come, take my hand, though blood and chaos may precede us as in every cyclic upheaval in nature, we are the masters of our future, letting loose a tidal wave of thought and action to wash away the old world and cleanse our race to receive the new.”
He brought his hand back and placed it, palm down against his chest, over his heart. “A new world.” He closed his eyes. For you and I, Gabrielle.
Gabrielle passed under the magnificent portico of the Theogenesis Society, awed by its commanding grandeur. She knocked once and the heavy wood front opened.
“Miss Caldwell?” a tall, unfamiliar man asked, extending his hand out to her.
“Yes. I have an appointment with Doctor Hellreich.”
“We have been expecting you, Miss Caldwell. I am Doctor Hellreich’s personal assistant, Mr. Wallace.”
Judging him to be a few years younger than Bret, she was startled by his sunken, waxen cheeks and dark, ogling eyes. Gabrielle withdrew her hand from his strong, rigid fingers.
Mr. Wallace ushered her politely across the threshold. “Please, come this way.” He admitted her into the central foyer and motioned to her to follow him.
Without saying another word, Gabrielle walked behind Mr. Wallace, who turned around briefly only once as if to make sure she was still there. They continued on through a long, darkened lecture hall toward another hallway at the opposite end.
Gabrielle moistened wet her lips and swallowed. The uncomfortable sense of wonder lurking around the corners of her apprehension now exerted itself upon her with a growing intensity after each reverberating step across the cold marble floor.
Mr. Wallace pointed to a door in the hallway leading out from the lecture hall. “Please, take a seat and make yourself comfortable. Doctor Hellreich will call for you shortly in his study.”
She sat in the nearest wood chair.
Mr. Wallace nodded in respect and took his leave of her the same way they had entered.
Gabrielle clasped her Parisian handbag in front of her with both hands, pressing her fingernails into the plush, dark blue velvet. Although the darkness of evening was descending outside, only one hallway lamp was turned on, casting its faint light around the entrance of Cade’s study.
Father had not told her about the exact reasons for this meeting, only that it was an urgent matter concerning Bret’s proposed financing plans for his Beaumont drilling venture.
Feeling anxious and uncertain, Gabrielle was unable to remain seated. She stood and paced the floor in front of the door for a few minutes then stepped softly up to the door and leaned her ear against it.
She heard the muffled sound of a man speaking, Cade likely, judging by his stern voice. Perhaps he was preparing for his lecture? The discourse stopped abruptly, followed by the sound of slow footsteps coming toward the door.
Gabrielle returned to her chair and adjusted the angle of her blue velvet hat.
The study door opened and Cade, dressed in an ornately sewn Oriental housecoat, bowed politely. “How lovely and vivacious you look tonight, Gabrielle.”
With a cordial, inviting smile, his shoulders straight and chest broad, Gabrielle had to take a short breath and admit to herself that Cade looked very debonair and handsome.
He beckoned her to enter with a slow, rolling motion of his hand. “Such feminine perfection and beauty should never be kept waiting by the mundane affairs of men. Please accept my apologies and welcome to my home.”
“Cade, you are charming to a fault, no doubt. Your graciousness sounds so quaint and refreshing,” Gabrielle answered, smiling. “The men in this town can be so downright rude to a lady these days that a woman can forget what it is like to be treated with respect by a real gentleman.”
The austere glint in Cade’s gaze softened with a warmth she had not seen before in his dark eyes. The candor of her words seemed to elicit a genuine response of admiration and trust, as his shoulders dropped and he assumed a more relaxed and natural stance.
“What’s the matter, Cade? My father said you had a matter of urgent importance you wished to discuss with me in person concerning Mr. McGowan.”
Cade nodded, “Yes, Gabrielle, and I am sorry to call upon you on such short notice, but I feel it is my duty—as your father’s trusted confidant, and out of respect for our new friendship—to reveal certain facts that have come to light about your close friend, Mr. McGowan.”
The back of Gabrielle’s neck bristled at Caden’s inference. “That man is no longer a close friend, Cade, I can assure you of that. My father and I regard him simply as an old family acquaintance and business associate.”
Caden smiled again at the sound of Gabrielle’s swift correction of his misunderstanding. “Yes, of course. Forgive me, then you will not take offense when I explain the designs Mr. McGowan may have on your family’s unquestioning generosity.”
He smiled and motioned toward the upholstered chair in front of his desk. “Please, Gabrielle, you will wanted to be seated when I tell you all that I have to say.”
From the edge of her seat in the center of the room, Gabrielle craned her neck to see more clearly the contents of the wall of mounted, black walnut bookcases that encircled the room. The lower shelves were crammed with thick, bound books and stacks of manuscripts tied with ribbon and string.
The swaying flame of the single oil lamp on the small, corner table scattered a hazy glow across the murky outlines of animal skeletons set on small stands within several of the shelves, their quivering shadows cast against the spines of the books in a phantom imitation of life.
In the opposite corner of the room, the severe and life-like brass sculpture of Cade’s head and shoulders was mounted on a dark stone base.
Cade lit another lamp on his desk then sat down in his chair facing her. “Would you care for an aperitif, Gabrielle?” He gestured toward the crystal decanter on the corner of his desk. “A glass of sherry perhaps?”
“No, thank you, now, please Cade, what do you want to tell me about Bret McGowan that I don’t already know?” Gabrielle leaned forward from the fringe of the chair frame.
Cade leaned over his desk and intertwined his long fingers in an upright arc under his pointed chin. “I respect that you are a candid and honest woman so I trust you will appreciate the same quality in a man when I say that Mr. McGowan will take more than your money if you allow him. He will take the trust you bear him in your heart and ruin you in the bargain.”
Gabrielle gathered her skirt in a flurry and lifted herself out of the chair. “What on Earth are you talking about? I don’t have any investments with Mr. McGowan and if I did—” She rushed toward his desk. “What business would it possibly be of yours?”
Cade lowered his chin and released an audible sigh. “It is not my business I speak of, Gabrielle, but of your father’s love for you, his only daughter.” He lifted his head and looked directly into her eyes. “His only living flesh and blood.”
Gabrielle turned away from Cade’s incisive stare and fidgeted with the gold clasp on her velvet purse. “My . . . my father and I have always been open with each other. Why would he turn to you to confide his most personal concerns?”
Cade opened his hands, exposing his palms. “He turned to me out of desperation, Gabrielle, out of desperation and fear of losing your love and respect.”
Gabrielle brought her hand up to her racing heart. “Father? Afraid . . . why?”
“When I informed him that I had met you while Mr. McGowan was visiting, he became most agitated, then he contacted his bank manager.” Cade rose from his chair and walked around to the front of his desk. “Your father values your opinion of himself over all others, and he would never do anything to risk loosing your respect, but he knows, Gabrielle, he knows of your intention to transfer money into Bret McGowan’s oil exploration account.”
Feeling suddenly exposed, Gabrielle composed herself, suppressing her desire to leave before allowing this invasive questioning to continue a moment longer.
Cade stepped forward and placed his hand on her shoulder. “A man who loves you deeply, Gabrielle, could never allow another to cause you pain and suffering. He cannot stand back and be a silent witness to your downfall.”
Gabrielle hesitated, feeling the enclosing warmth of his hand through her white silk blouse. She shifted away from Cade’s touch and turned from him. “I was merely making inquiries. My father allows me much freedom in my business affairs and if Bret could provide more evidence of his oil venture—”
He took hold of her arm, his grip much stronger than before. “Bret McGowan will give you any evidence you wish. If he shows you some false geological report fabricated by those unscrupulous foreigners he calls partners, how will you ever know the difference? Tell me, Gabrielle.” Cade held her other arm and turned her around to face him. “How will you know when all you can see is his familiar and reassuring gleam in his eyes?”
Gabrielle shook herself loose from his grip. “What are you doing? Please let go of me.” She backed away from him toward the door.
Cade remained where he stood, his expression seeming to fall into deeper remorse with each step she took. “Please, Gabrielle.” He held up his hands in a pleading gesture. “I beg you to wait and hear me out. It is only because I have your interests and Rebecca’s at heart that I have acted so strongly with you.”
He lowered his head and brought one hand up to his brow in an act of contrition. “If I can do anything to save both of you from that parasite, then by any force of nature, I will.”
“Your niece? Miss Armstrong?” Gabrielle felt her lips tremble as she spoke the woman’s name. “What makes you think any association Mr. McGowan has with her would be of any interest whatsoever to me?”
Cade looked up at her again. “Do you know a man named . . . Ichabod Weems?”
Shocked by the sound of this unsavory character’s name, Gabrielle remained silent for a few moments before answering. “You forget that I am a lady, sir. When a man’s foul reputation proceeds him that is enough for me to get wind of his character without having to actually smell the odor.”
“Then, please.” Cade made a sweeping motion with his hand toward the guest chairs behind him. “Sit down and I will tell you a story of such wantonness and vice that I must first choose my words carefully before speaking to you, but once I do you will never care to look upon Mr. McGowan again but instead, trod upon him like the degenerate that he is.”
Gabrielle sat and looked down at her folded hands clutching at her velvet purse. The genuine tone of concern in Cade’s voice was a necessary reassurance giving her pause to think and scrutinize her own intentions. Had she judged one man too harshly and another not enough?
She took a deep breath and exhaled. Clearly, this was a mature gentleman speaking only of his concern for the well-being and moral protection of impressionable young ladies, like his niece. That was an admirable quality and so seldom witnessed in any man she knew.
“So . . . Cade.” Gabrielle flashed a carefree smile and made a few small, swinging movements of her purse on its strap. “What scandalous tale of debauchery will polite Galveston society accuse Bret McGowan of this week?”
Cade stepped back behind his desk and sat down, placing his elbows on the desktop and raising his forearms up to make a triangular arch. “I know you’re not the kind of intelligent and understanding person who finds outrageous humor in human depravity and weakness.”
Gabrielle stopped swinging her purse and leaned forward.
Cade tapped his long fingers together. “In the short time we’ve known each other I have come to respect you as woman of high moral character and decency, and that is why loathing rather than laughter will fill that trusting heart of yours.”
He lowered his arms and folded them across the desktop in front of his chest. “Now, if you will allow me to close the door. I do not want my niece to enter upon our conversation. I love her too dearly to chance that she might hear the painful truth of what I have to say.”
Gabrielle’s pulse quickened and she placed her hands on the desk. “Then tell me the truth and trust that whatever we discuss will go no further than this room.”
Cade reached across the desk and clasped her hands in his. “It has come to my attention, thanks in large part to discrete inquiries made by my personal assistant, Mr. Wallace . . . ”
He spoke in hushed, unhurried tones that spread through Gabrielle’s heart in a dense, deadening pain that exposed the last pathetic depths of her love for Bret. With each cutting word, her passion for the only man she had ever loved flowed out of her heart like blood spilling over the edge of a wound.