Breathless (5 page)

"No," she finally told him with a straight face. "Nobody ever mentioned you."

"Not surprising," Jack told her. "Although I knew you were coming a long time ago. Probably before you even knew you were coming, in fact." He gave her one more look before turning. "You'll learn what I mean about my parents. Sooner or later. Nice to meet you,
Charlotte
." He said her name a bit distastefully, as if it put a bad flavor in his mouth.

Charlotte watched him disappear down the hall, angering bubbling inside of her. Maybe it was the snide tone in his voice, that smirk, or his completely disrespectful attitude about his parents that angered her so. In any case, Charlotte was sure that although she was very fond of Lewis and Helen, she was not so enamored with their son.

Letting out a frustrated groan, Charlotte ran upstairs to her room and flopped onto her bed with her book. Some things seemed like they would never change, she mused as she settled into the pillows.

There was a faint knock at her door. "Come in!" Charlotte called without enthusiasm. Both the disappointment and Jack had put her into a rather foul mood.

Mrs. Gates poked her head into Charlotte's room. "Are you alright, dear?" she asked in her kind voice.

"I'm fine," Charlotte told her in as light of a voice as she could muster. She hid behind her book, hoping Mrs. Gates would just leave her alone. But instead, Mrs. Gates walked to the bed and took the book from Charlotte's hands, setting it on the bedside table with a smile.

"Come down to the kitchen with me. I could use some help baking," Mrs. Gates implored. She held out a hand to Charlotte.

The last thing Charlotte wanted to do was work in the kitchen. But she sighed and rolled off the bed, following Mrs. Gates out the door and downstairs.

"Helen was a poor, struggling actress," Mrs. Gates told Charlotte as they rolled up balls of cookie dough and placed them on baking sheets. "She was eighteen years old, living with a crowd of roommates, working odd jobs, and dreaming of starring in London. But one day she came across Lewis, and he knew it was just meant to be."

"Where did they meet?" Charlotte asked interestedly, hoping it was as romantic as her own parents' story had turned out to be.

"Lewis was almost finished at the university. He was writing his final play, which would be performed for critics and even producers who could fund the show in London. He was late for class one day and was running down the streets of London when he ran into Helen. He dropped all of his papers and was quite frustrated with himself...until he spotted Helen." Mrs. Gates smiled at Charlotte. "He was not thinking of himself, but of his play. He knew she would be the perfect lead actress. He cast her. The play was a sensation and Helen shot straight to stardom, as the theatre people would say."

"With just that one role?" Charlotte asked, surprised. After looking through her mother's scrapbooks for years and years, Charlotte had always assumed that actresses had to get started in minor roles before getting lined up for the leads.

"Yes, just that one," Mrs. Gates told her. "Before she knew it, she was being cast as Lady Macbeth, Nora in
A Doll's House
, and so many more. But she always found her way back into Lewis' plays. They just couldn't stay apart. They were married only two years after they met, when Helen was twenty." Charlotte's eyes widened at this. "And it was only later that year that Helen became pregnant. She had to quit theatre during her pregnancy. I think it disappointed her greatly. By the time Jack was born, Helen was terribly depressed. Lewis was so distraught. He insisted she go straight back to theatre. She is happiest there."

"How old is Jack, Mrs. Gates?" Charlotte asked.

"Seventeen. He'll be eighteen in just a few weeks. I've known him since he was just a tiny baby," she said proudly. "He was named John, after Helen's brother. But from the moment he was born, we all knew he was more of a Jack."

"Is that why you came here? To take care of the baby?"

"I suppose so. My husband David was the Careys' chauffeur from the time they were married. They employed me shortly afterward, and Helen encouraged me to put Topher right in the nursery with Jack, even though he's two years older. "

"That was nice of her," Charlotte said, dusting the flour off her hands.

"It was. People don't come any nicer than the Careys," Mrs. Gates said. "My husband died ten years ago in a car accident, the same one that injured Topher's leg. They were running an errand for the Careys. I don't think Lewis ever really forgave himself for David's death, even though he had nothing to do with it. But ten years later, they're still taking good care of Topher and me."

Charlotte scoffed. "Jack sure thinks they aren't so nice."

Mrs. Gates laughed. "Jack is just Jack. The sooner you accept that, Miss Martin, the sooner you'll come to understand who he is."

"I'm not so sure I want to understand him," Charlotte confessed to Mrs. Gates. She blushed, feeling badly for saying this. But Charlotte didn't understand why Jack acted the way he did. And although she was intrigued by him, she wasn't about to let on.

"Charlotte," came a quiet voice from the door. Lewis stood there in a suit and tie, looking quite handsome. "Could I speak with you, please? I'm sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Gates," he told her.

"Yes, of course," Charlotte said. She took off her apron and followed him out into the hallway. "I didn't know you were home, Lewis."

"I only just arrived," he told her. "I had a meeting at the theatre, but I didn't have to stay all day. Helen wanted for me to let you know that the family is going to be attending a party at the theatre, tonight. It's quite an elaborate event. We wanted to know if you would like to join us there."

"Oh, Lewis!" Charlotte cried, a smile breaking over her face. "Yes! I've never been to one!"

"Good," Lewis said with a smile. "I know we both wanted you there. Please be ready to leave by 7 o' clock. Helen is having a formal gown sent to the house for you to wear." He smiled at her again before turning and walking down the hall to his study.

Charlotte followed him there. She couldn't keep her curiosity at bay any longer. She was grateful to the Careys for everything they had done, but she couldn't shake off the dreadful feeling that they had kept Jack a secret from her.

"Lewis?" she asked, walking into the library. Lewis sat behind his desk, reading some papers and petting Little Bear with the other hand. Little Bear had taken a liking to Lewis, who called him Lucky.

"Hm?" he murmured, immersed in his paperwork.

"Lewis, why didn't you tell me about Jack?" Charlotte asked.

Lewis looked up in shock. "You met Jack?" he asked.

"Yes," Charlotte told him. "He came home late last night while I was reading. And then I met him this morning in the dining room." She frowned. "Why didn't you tell me that you and Helen had a son? And that he lived here?"

Lewis took off his glasses with a sigh and rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry we didn't say anything last night, Charlotte. But you had such a long journey and so many changes at once...we just didn't want to burden you with another bit of news. Helen and I had already decided we weren't going to mention Jack until you were settled in. We just didn't want to burden you with any more." Lewis' eyes were so kind and his voice so comforting that even though Charlotte was still slightly angry she hadn't been told about Jack, Lewis' words still made her feel better. "Why don't you start getting ready, Charlotte?" Lewis asked her. "I'm sure Mrs. Gates will be available if you need any help. I'll see you tonight."

"Yes, Lewis," Charlotte told him with a small smile. She began to leave the room.

"Charlotte!" Lewis called after her. "How do you like your books?"

Charlotte grinned and turned back to Lewis. "I love them. Thank you."

"Always a pleasure, Charlotte," he said, smiling back.

Charlotte left the library and walked up the staircase to her room. As she walked down the hall, she noticed Jack walking toward her. It was so odd, knowing that this grumpy young man was sharing a home with her now. He was nothing like Luc. But nobody could ever be like Luc.

Charlotte didn't say anything to Jack as she neared her door, but she was startled when he didn't even acknowledge her. Finally, Charlotte said something.

"Your parents said we're all attending a party tonight," she told him in a straight voice. "Seven o' clock."

Jack paused for a moment, but didn't even cast a glance at Charlotte. He muttered, "Of course," and retreated into his own room, which was directly across the hall from Charlotte's.

How did he manage to anger her so much? Charlotte groaned and shut herself into her own room, leaning back against the door.
I have Helen and Lewis,
she thought to herself, trying to calm down,
and they care about me. They care about how I feel and what burdens I have to carry. I don't have to give two thoughts about Jack. I'm going to a party tonight, with theatre stars and playwrights and all kinds of amazing people. He can't ruin this night for me. This night is going to be perfect.

Charlotte could not suppress her smile when she walked through the doors of the theatre. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen-the ceilings were painted with murals of the evening sky and little lights twinkled to replicate the tiny stars. The walls were painted gold with pretty moldings. There was a grand staircase that led up to the gala room, over the auditorium.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Helen nudged Charlotte with a knowing smile. "I remember the first time I stepped into this theatre," she reminisced, her eyes still sparkling with awe as she stood arm-in-arm with Lewis, who looked stunningly handsome in his black suit and royal blue tie, which matched Helen's dress perfectly. Helen had ordered Charlotte a beautiful black tea-length gown with a cap sleeves and a matching bag. Charlotte felt she fit right in with this crowd of elegantly dressed people. Even Jack, who had barely spoken a word during the car ride, looked very nice in his black suit and tie. But his hair, always a bit unruly, continually escaped the hair mousse his mother had insisted he slick it back with.

"Come along, the gala is upstairs," Lewis directed.

Charlotte kept close behind the pair, making sure not to get lost in the crowd. But at the same time she admired the people at the party-the girl who looked no older than Luc, but whose hair was dyed so blonde that it was almost white; the gentleman who looked nearly eighty, but had a young lady on his arm; the woman who carried a small dog in her arms. Oh, how Luc would have loved to see this! But then Charlotte remembered-Luc
had
seen all of this, every time his mother had invited him to the theatre while Charlotte sat at home alone.

"Congratulations, Lewis," the old man came over with a grin and shook Lewis' hand. "Well-deserved. And who might this be?" he asked, looking over at Charlotte, who blushed.

"You remember our son Jack, don't you Robert?" Lewis asked, gesturing to his son, who barely responded. Jack pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, causing Lewis' face to fall in disappointment. The shadow quickly passed though and Lewis continued, "And this is Charlotte Martin. She'll be visiting from France for a while. Surely you know of her mother the actress Marie Georgette Martin? Helen performed with Marie when they were young."

The old man's face lit up in an instant. "Yes, of course! I had the pleasure of meeting Marie a few years ago when she played in
Hamlet
. You're certainly a lucky little lady to have a mother as talented as her!"

Charlotte managed to smile back, but was afraid it came out as more of a grimace as the familiar words were spoken to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Jack looking at her quite interestedly. Charlotte looked away.

"Yes, well. Have a wonderful time tonight, Robert," Lewis said courteously and guided his family into the banquet room. He murmured out of the corner of his mouth, "Jack, you know I hate when you do that. You know it bothers your mother's lungs."

Jack just looked away without a word.

Helen squeezed Lewis' arm and smiled. "I'm fine, Lewis. Let him. Jack, won't you go with Charlotte to the bar for drinks? We'll find our table. It should be near the front. Meet us there."

Jack again didn't reply, but started off toward the bar. Charlotte found herself nearly running to keep up with his pace.

"What do you want?" Jack asked Charlotte, gesturing to the bartender, but it was hard to understand him with the cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

Charlotte looked away in disgust before asking the bartender, "Could I please just have a water?" Mother had always told her it was vulgar for a young lady to drink alcohol in public.

"And I'll have a scotch. On the rocks," Jack said confidently, pulling money from his suit pocket and tossing it on the counter.

"Won't your parents mind that you're drinking?" Charlotte asked in awe, watching Jack confidently accept the glass and take a drink. Luc could never have even had wine at a theatre party.

"Watch and see if they do," Jack replied, walking to the table where his family was seated. "But there won't be anything to see."

Helen waved them over to the table with a grin. She looked so happy, Charlotte noticed. "Lewis and I were just going to take a spin on the dance floor. Why don't you two join us?"