THE HEART GOES ON
Chapter Six

October, 1912

Cal

Emily Harrington Smyth wouldn’t look at me over the breakfast table, her eyes watery and her pallor pale. She barely ate, staring down at her plate. Gerard was fussing about her, asking her if she was sick or something.

It had been a few weeks since the encounter in the summer house, since our little tryst. I had been heavily intoxicated, but she hadn’t fought me off and had acquiesced to me in the end. She had no choice. She wasn’t a spitfire like Rose.

I was more manly for her than my milksop brother. He’d thank me one day for breaking in his mousy future wife.

She had avoided me since and was very polite to my face, simpering around like a china doll. She wouldn’t dare say anything, as I told her that Gerard would not want to marry a little slut who had thrown herself at his grieving brother.

Gerard got up and excused him presently, leaving Emily and me at the table.

She raised her eyes to me, holding her tea cup in her hands. She looked wary, her soft blue eyes sad and fearful.

Like Rose’s green eyes when we were sitting on the private promenade deck, her saying I couldn’t command her like a foreman in one of the mills, defying me after dancing in steerage with that Dawson filth. My sweeping the table harshly to one side and Rose sitting with shock on her face amongst the smashed china. No woman would cross me. Women had to be polite and courteous, refined.

"Caledon?" Emily said quietly, putting down her cup. "I need to..."

I laid down my knife and fork and looked at her.

"You are not to say anything. Do you understand me, Emily? We had a dalliance, and it was very pleasurable, but you mustn’t tell, as you don’t want to be labeled a slut." I talked to her sharply, as if she were five.

Recollection flashed over her face as she remembered. Her brows knitted and sweat formed on her forehead.

She flinched, and tears welled in her blue eyes. I despised weak, crybaby women. I sneered at her. "You do understand, Emily; keep your silence. If you want to be Mrs. Gerard Hockley..."

"I’m not one of those types of ladies," she whispered in her small, ineffectual voice. "How could you have treated me so badly, Caledon? You are supposed to be a gentleman, like Gerard."

Anger flooded me; in two paces I was around the table, grabbed her arm, yanked her out of the chair, and smacked her hard across the cheek.

She gasped loudly, a red mark appearing on her cheek. I pulled my face down to hers and hissed, "I am a gentleman. I’ll tell everyone you threw yourself at me. They won’t believe you. I am Caledon Hockley, and I always get my way." I could hear my father’s rough tones in my own voice. I threw her roughly aside.

"I won’t say anything. Don’t tell Gerard. He’d hate me!" she wept, and fled from the room.

I went back to eating my bacon. Silly little girl. What a fuss over a little affair. She’d get over it. It meant nothing to me. If anything, it had cleared my mind and snapped me out of the doldrums.

I would get back into Father’s favor and earn my privileges again. I was working at the mill and was showing him what I could do as his dutiful son.

If Gerard thought he was getting the money, then I would have his wife. Fair deal. I would make him pay for being Father’s brown nose. He wasn’t wily and free-thinking like me.

I hadn’t heard anything from Bonner and the detective agency. I had sent Bonner ahead to California to track down Rose. I hadn’t gone in the end. My father had me managing one of the mills, and I dared not oppose him anymore. I was already on shaky ground.

Once he found her, I would speak to her make her see sense. She had been raised a lady. She was born to be my society wife.

My train of thought was interrupted by Sylvie walking in, dressed in a pale blue morning gown.

"Did I hear raised voices, Caledon?" she asked pointedly.

I pushed my empty plate to one side and stood up.

"Oh, Emily was having an attack of the vapors! Wedding nerves. I was telling her that to be a Hockley wife she would have to be made of strong stuff," I improvised, putting a fake smile onto my face.

God, I had always hated this woman.

Sylvie frowned, not sure. "That is Gerard’s role, really," she said haughtily. "Training Emily to be a suitable wife. However, the girl skulks around like a ghost lately. She will need more backbone to be a pillar of support, fitting Gerard’s position in society. You are not wrong," she replied. She poured herself a cup of tea. "Any news, Caledon" she inquired, "of the runaway?"

"No, but Bonner will be back soon, I hope. Things will be resolved," I told her.

She smiled coolly. "I do hope so do, Caledon. Your father is most displeased with the situation. However, you have been working hard at the mill these past weeks, and he is more responsive to you now, especially with Gerard’s good fortune."

This was news that my father was warming up slightly. Now, if I could marry Rose and get the diamond back, I could reclaim what was mine. My eyes glittered. I walked over to my step-mama, she held up her arm, and I kissed her wrist.

"Thank you, Sylvie," I said pleasantly. "It has been a pleasure to talk with you. I wish you good day. I must leave to go to the mill."

She smiled, pleased at my good intentions.

I would win. I was a Hockley and the firstborn.

Chapter Seven
Stories