《Business With Pleasure》 Chapter One CHAPTER ONE WESTCHESTER COUNTY, NY: 1888 The magician stood unmoving as a statue, his hand raised and concealed with a silken handkerchief. The crowd watched with rapt attention, a hush overcoming them all. "Oooh! Ahhh!" they cheered as he whipped the handkerchief from his hand to reveal a snow-white pigeon. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, John Baldwin shifted from foot to foot. Attending a foul smelling, congested state fair was bad enough; feigning interest in an overly dramatic illusionist before proposing to Caroline Hubbard felt like agony. But magic and lantern shows were her favorite, and whatever she liked, he liked. At least that¡¯s what he¡¯d told himself over the past few weeks. He stole a glance at the angel standing beside him, her buttery-blonde ringlets spilling across petite shoulders, enormous hazel eyes glued to the stage with intrigue. She was beautiful, and she was one of his closest friends¡ªbut he wasn¡¯t ready for this type of commitment. Unfortunately, he no longer had a choice in the matter. An absurd blast of sparks and smoke returned John to the moment. ¡°Ladies and gentlemen,¡± the magician announced, ¡°for my final act, I¡¯ll need a brave volunteer from the audience.¡± John pulled the brim of his bowler downward as Caroline, her Aunt Felicity, and most of the crowd thrusted their hands eagerly into the air. Judge Brockmire¡¯s voluptuous wife was chosen as the lucky victim. Maybe the magician would make the eighty pounds of gemstones adorning her neck disappear into his pockets¡ªnowthatwould be entertaining. But alas, no such luck. The show ended with a predictable levitation trick. The crowd dispersed quickly, shuffling towards tents, games, food stands, and any other entertainment the fairgrounds had to offer. A group of young ladies made shy glances in John¡¯s direction as they passed. When he smiled, they giggled and whispered to one another, quickening their steps. Caroline¡¯s aunt mentioned something about the cake contest, but John couldn¡¯t focus on her chirpy voice¡ªnot with the imaginary clock pounding down the seconds of his dwindling future inside his ears. No more reckless behavior. Father had threatened to permanently cut John¡¯s funds if he didn¡¯t settle down by the end of the year. And after that last bill had arrived from the carriage repair shop, seemed the old man meant it this time. John hadn¡¯t meant to steer off the road and into a lamppost. He also hadn¡¯t planned on getting too drunk to drive at Michael Talbot¡¯s stag party. Damned drinking games. ¡°Oh, Auntie, how I¡¯ve missed Clark¡¯s Fair, and how we used to go together every year until we moved away.¡± Caroline opened her pink parasol and gave it a twirl over her shoulder. Bright-eyed, she marveled at the colorful, bustling attractions surrounding them. ¡°It appears to have grown quite a bit over the years.¡± ¡°I have the fondest memories of you and your sisters skipping around in your bonnets, holding candied apples,¡± replied aunt Felicity in a warm voice. ¡°And now look at you. Three grown nieces I have the privilege of calling my friends.¡± She turned to John. ¡°Didn¡¯t your family join us at the fair that last summer, John? Before the girls moved to Iowa?¡± He smiled through tightly closed lips. ¡°We certainly did, though I shamefully recall running off to the livestock tent to join my friends. I was at the age where being spotted in public with one¡¯s parents led to embarrassment¡ª¡± ¡°The livestock!¡± Caroline¡¯s outburst made him flinch. ¡°Let¡¯s go there now, shall we? I propose we name the chickens and see whoever comes up with the most ridiculous one, like Colonel Red Crest, or Reginald Upper Crust the Third.¡± John choked out a laugh. Caroline Hubbard certainly was a breath of fresh air among clouds of toxic perfume. Her chaste, innocent nature never affected her sense of humor. God, he could no longer handle the anticipation. If he didn¡¯t propose now, he¡¯d explode. If only there were a romantic spot to do so. Too many people milled about, gorging themselves on carnival food, kicking up clouds of dirt, and attempting to reign in their rambunctious children. Then he noticed the entrance to Briar Rose¡¯s Garden just off to the left¡ªa temporary botanical display with weaving paths and a white gazebo. Romantic enough. He adjusted his yellow necktie and cleared his throat. ¡°I¡¯d love nothing more than to name a fat hen Bertha Crumpleton, but the roses look particularly lovely at this hour in the day.¡± He grinned at Caroline¡¯s aunt. ¡°Don¡¯t you agree, Mrs. Williams?¡± ¡°Hmm, quite charming indeed.¡± The handsome older woman studied him, pursing her lips and fluttering her fan across her impressive bosom. Caroline arched a fine, blonde eyebrow. ¡°The lady wants to see the livestock, and the gentleman wants to stroll among the roses. Something about that feels a bit backward, doesn¡¯t it?¡± He offered an arm to each woman. ¡°I like backward. It keeps things interesting.¡± They strolled into the makeshift garden, joining the handful of lovers scattered along the paths. The sweet, almost sickly smell cut through the acrid scent of the fair, and he found himself wondering which fragrance was worse. Aunt Felicity recognized a couple farther ahead and hurried off to greet them¡ªa fortuitous turn of events¡ªgranting John the only privacy he might get. Releasing his arm, Caroline tiptoed from bush to bush, touching the roses and smelling each bloom as if it held a different scent than the previous one. ¡°I¡¯m so glad Clark¡¯s fair came early this summer,¡± she said, returning happily to his side. ¡°My last day in New York will certainly be a memorable one, thanks to you and Aunt Felicity. I cannot believe how quickly two months have gone by, can you?¡± She squeezed the crook of his arm. ¡°I trust you will continue to write to me often, because if you don¡¯t, I¡¯ll have half a mind to¡ª¡± ¡°Marry me,¡± he blurted.Dammit,that wasn¡¯t how he intended to say it at all. She stared. ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± He released the breath he¡¯d been holding. ¡°Marry me, Caroline?¡± Three words this time. But why was it a question? This couldn¡¯t count as progress. A perplexed, almost amused look washed over her face. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious.¡± ¡°I am very serious.¡± ¡°John Baldwin, you must be out of your gourd!¡± As if suddenly remembering they were in public, she lowered her voice to a whisper. ¡°Marry you? For years, all you¡¯ve written about is boycotting domestication and living the uncharted life of a bachelor. Since when do you want to be married?¡± Damn¡ªwhy did she have to know him so well? Glancing around, he took her gloved hand and led her to the gazebo. ¡°People can change their minds, can¡¯t they? You can¡¯t tell me you¡¯ve felt nothing between us, not after all we¡¯ve shared this summer. I can give you a future, Liney.¡± ¡°A future of more wealth, twice the amount of social obligations, and a handful of spoiled, bratty children?¡± She gave a lighthearted shrug. ¡°A lot of men could. What makes you any different?¡± ¡°Our written correspondence, for one.¡± His eyes darted to her oblivious aunt. ¡°Liney, I¡¯m certain you know me better than any other man because of it¡ª¡± ¡°Tell me, John, what would my family think if they found out I¡¯d spent my last summer as an innocent cavorting with you? Or that we¡¯ve shared hundreds of letters since I was a child? I turn nineteen next month. My parents have arranged a week-long party in honor of my coming out, and every bachelor in Iowa will be there.¡± He raised an eyebrow. ¡°A party? You hate parties.¡± ¡°I know.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°My father is trying to gain as much local support as he can before his campaign for the governorship. It is simply one of those things I must grit my teeth and bear.¡± She looked up at him in a pitiful way, as if he were an old childhood toy she planned to dispose of. ¡°Please, don¡¯t think I¡¯m not flattered by your proposal, Johnny. In fact, I sort of expected it. When I first wrote you ten years ago, chiding you for destroying my sister¡¯s happiness, I never would have expected gaining a dear friend out of it. I care about you deeply¡­¡± she blushed, ¡°more than a girl should care about a boy before she¡¯s of proper age. But after tomorrow, you must compete for my hand just like everyone else.¡± Compete? Surely, he was losing his hearing. This couldn¡¯t be happening. No woman had denied him before, yet somehow, this virginal, nineteen-year-old debutante didn¡¯t desire him. He placed his hands on his hips, ignoring the bite of rejection. How strange it felt. ¡°And yes, I do know you better than any other man,¡± she added, pulling him out of his cloud of frustration. ¡°I¡¯ve known you since I was born¡­ but, that doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re the man with whom I imagine sharing the rest of my life.¡± Leaning against a gazebo post, she sighed. ¡°John Baldwin, you¡¯re witty, dangerously handsome, and the kindest soul I¡¯ve ever met, but I fear you don¡¯t take life seriously.¡± He opened his mouth to laugh, but she stopped him with a raised palm. ¡°May I be direct?¡± ¡°By all means.¡± He couldn¡¯t wait to hear this. Just then, a lone gentleman entered the gazebo, eating from a bag of roasted almonds, invading their private moment. John stepped aside, allowing the man to pass. A minute later, they were alone again. Caroline made a glance over each shoulder before speaking. ¡°You¡¯re twenty-seven years old and still living beneath your father¡¯s roof. Your daily activities consist of gallivanting with your friends, indulging in luxurious purchases, travelling the coast, and avoiding all forms of responsibility.¡± ¡°I believe that is called privilege¡ª¡± ¡°And that¡¯s fine if it suits you,¡± she whispered, her words clipped and short. ¡°But just because I was born into an identical situation doesn¡¯t mean I don¡¯t want something different. I¡¯d rather be a spinster with twenty cats than marry a man who will grow bored with me in a few months and stray.¡± Damn his lewd reputation as a bachelor. Even if he did grow bored, John would never be unfaithful to a wife. The Baldwin men respected the sanctity of marriage. The last time he¡¯d given his heart to a woman, well, he would have died for her. He nearly did. Taking in their surroundings, she shook her head. ¡°Did you even plan any of this? Judging by your choice to propose in a makeshift fair garden behind my aunt¡¯s back, I¡¯m guessing no.¡± She plucked a freshly fallen petal from the ground, one that matched the pink in her cheeks. ¡°You don¡¯t take anything seriously, including me.¡± That was not true. ¡°I¡¯ll admit my words and choice of location were ill prepared.¡± He folded his arms across his chest, glancing at the sun to cover his frustration. ¡°But Liney, give me a chance and I¡¯ll prove my devotion. Throw the stick, and I¡¯ll fetch.¡± Christ, was he groveling? ¡°Friendship is one thing, but marriage is another beast entirely.¡± Taking his hand and turning it upward, she placed the petal into his palm, and closed his fingers around it. ¡°That said, if you care enough to prove yourself to me, then I cannot rob you of the opportunity. Come to Des Moines. The party begins on September twelfth.¡± ¡°To ¡®compete¡¯ for you?¡± She shot him a wry look. ¡°I must be very picky, John. I¡¯ve witnessed the submission and neglect my sisters have endured with their husbands, and I refuse to join their ranks. I want to maintain ownership of my mind and not have to lock my opinions away for the sake of a man¡¯s pride. I¡¯m worth far more than an obedient wife.¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Recovering from the initial shock, he considered her words. Caroline had always possessed an independent spirit, and he respected her for that, but he¡¯d never really heard her articulate it until now. ¡°Who said I wanted an obedient wife?¡± he asked. ¡°I promise to embrace your whims wholeheartedly. You had once said you wanted to travel the world. I love to travel.¡± ¡°Yes, I know.¡± She smacked his shoulder lightly. ¡°So, will you come?¡± A tightness centered in his chest. Not heartbreak, but disappointment. He hadn¡¯t anticipated it going this way, but what choice did he have? ¡°If I do, you will give me a fair and ample amount of your time? I¡¯ll need your attention if I¡¯m to prove myself.¡± ¡°I promise,¡± she said, her voice sweet with earnest. He shrugged off the lingering bite of defeat; her friendship meant too much to lose to sour behavior. Besides, a week away from home and Father¡¯s reprimanding lectures sounded grand. ¡°You¡¯rereallygoing to make me travel to a landlocked state in the middle of the country?¡± ¡°If you deem me worth it, yes.¡± They shared in a smile, and she took hold of his arm as they continued their lazy stroll. ¡°A state without a coastline isn¡¯t as bad as you think. Besides, you¡¯ll be too busy engaging in the festivities to notice¡ªjust be sure to avoid Nellie.¡± He eyed her askance. ¡°You sister still hates me?¡± ¡°Can you blame her after what you did?¡± ¡°It¡¯s been nearly a decade.¡± ¡°Time matters not when it comes to a woman¡¯s delicate heart.¡± Delicate? John scowled as the memory of Eleanora Hubbard assaulted him. That little spitfire was about as delicate as a bee sting. Two years his senior, she¡¯d teased him mercilessly while growing up in Harrison. One day, when John had ¡°borrowed¡± his father¡¯s bottle of twenty-year-old brandy to impress his friends, Nell had ratted him out. For three weeks straight, he wasn¡¯t allowed to leave the house. ¡°Come now,¡± he said lightly. ¡°She¡¯s a married woman with children.¡± ¡°Widowed,¡± Caroline corrected, giving him a nudge with her elbow. ¡°Her late husband was a tin soldier. Had she simply married your brother Teddy as intended, she might have had a much happier life. Butyoumade sure that didn¡¯t happen.¡± He snorted. ¡°I did them a favor. Both would have been miserable.¡± ¡°Regardless, I don¡¯t know how she would react to seeing you, John.¡± ¡°Then I¡¯ll avoid her, as you suggested.¡± And he would happily do so. Securing Caroline¡¯s affection outweighed the risk of unearthing some old grudge with her sister. Nell had been all wrong for Teddy anyway, clinging to his arm like a parasite at parties, her little up-turned nose in the air, parading him around like some sort of prized trophy. ¡°She¡¯s been spying on the local bachelors for weeks,¡± Caroline said with a sigh. ¡°My sister only has the best intentions, bless her, but it feels a bit too much. I suppose weeding through my prospects gives her a sense of purpose in an otherwise dull life.¡± John grinned, trying not to let his reaction show. Typical, loony Nell. At least she was doing him a favor. ¡°Perhaps I should grow a mustache as a disguise, just in case.¡± ¡°I¡¯d imagine you¡¯d look quite handsome with one. Older, too.¡± Caroline smiled up at him. ¡°So, does this mean you are coming?¡± He breathed in slowly and expelled a long, heavy sigh. If marriage was nailed to the table, Caroline would certainly come closest to keeping him sane as a wife. She was heaven to look at, poked fun at society, laughed at his terrible jokes, and practically felt like family. Who else had spent an entire summer with her? The competition didn¡¯t stand a chance. He¡¯d make sure of it. Yes, some pride still remained along the border of the blow. ¡°You win, little Liney. I humbly accept your invitation.¡± * * * DES MOINES, IOWA: THREE WEEKS LATER Cigar smoke filled Papa¡¯s home office, shrouding the room in a pungent haze. Eleanora Hubbard shifted in her chair, hands clasped tightly in her lap as she mustered the courage to speak. ¡°Mother mentioned to me that you intend to sell the furniture factory.¡± Across from her, stuffed behind his cherrywood desk, Papa puffed on his figurado. Smoke blew from his nose and mouth as he chortled. ¡°That doesn¡¯t surprise me. God love the woman, but she¡¯d make one hell of a gossip columnist, wouldn¡¯t she?¡± Nell ignored the humor. ¡°When were you planning on telling me?¡± He smiled benignly, as if dealing with a temperamental child. ¡°I wasn¡¯t aware of the obligation, my dear. When your late husband entrusted the factory to me in his will, he stated nothing about confirming with his wife before I made any decisions regarding it.¡± She hesitated, lost on a convincing rebuttal. Despite her father¡¯s short round stature, Mayor Walter Hubbard possessed a powerful countenance. The man intimidated everyone in town, including own family. When it came to topics of a progressive nature, experience cautioned Nell to choose her words carefully. ¡°May I¡­ ask why you¡¯ve chosen to sell?¡± ¡°Simple.¡± He settled against the back of his chair, the wood and leather groaning beneath his weight. ¡°My gubernatorial campaign against McKinney begins next February. I no longer have the time nor the patience to address the ongoing repairs and accidents happening there. Overseeing product distribution is enough of a headache as is.¡± She squeezed her hands tighter. ¡°But if you sell it, the accidents will only continue.¡± ¡°That will be the new owner¡¯s problem.¡± ¡°How can you say that?¡± ¡°The mishaps are but a small price to pay for the rapid industrialization of this great nation.¡± Nell shook her head. ¡°These are people you¡¯re talking about. Workers, treated as commodities, the same as the raw materials used in the factories. They are underpaid and over-worked. Something must be done.¡± She braced herself for a patronizing reaction, but to her surprise, he merely regarded her with fond skepticism. ¡°When did you become so noble, daughter?¡± Cold fingers of regret wrapped around her heart. True, her lavish upbringing had blinded her for years¡ªuntil she¡¯d learned to look beyond the tip of her nose, past her gilded bubble, to where issues far greater than her own existed. Arthur¡¯s passing had granted her the freedom to explore the even deepest corners of Des Moines, where she made a host of unlikely friendships along the way. She¡¯d rather die than return to a life of ignorance. ¡°Ruth¡¯s youngest son is gone.¡± She met his gaze without flinching. ¡°He was fifteen. His life had barely begun. Imagine tragically losing a child to something that might have been avoided with a proper inspection. Imagine how his brothers must go on after having witnessed the accident¡­¡± ¡°Maternal sentiment becomes you, my dear.¡± Papa smiled again, yet his olive-green eyes lacked an ounce of empathy. ¡°It may be difficult for you to understand, and I will spare your ears from the gruesome examples, but I assure you these unfortunate happenings are most often the fault of the victims.¡± Nell frowned. ¡°The machine was faulty and caught fire. Safety guidelines must be put in place for both worker and equipment.¡± ¡°Changing one factory will hardly make a difference, Nellie.¡± He drew in a couple short cigar puffs. ¡°Besides, did I not give your maid my deepest sympathies following the accident last month, along with a generous sum of money to ease the burden of her loss?¡± ¡°You only did so because Ruth is my maid,¡± she said, fighting to keep her voice from trembling. ¡°Heaven knows the countless others maimed or killed inside that one building alone. Money doesn¡¯t make up for a life lost.¡± Shutting her eyes, she summoned a deep breath. ¡°Papa, I want to take over the factory.¡± Her suggestion was met with a contemptuous snort. ¡°Funny girl. Can you imagine?¡± ¡°As Arthur¡¯s surviving wife, I deserve first right.¡± ¡°If Arthur had wanted you to own it,¡± He chuckled each word as he spoke, ¡°he would have said so. But he knew how absurd the notion would be. Imagine what he¡¯d think of you asking such a question right now.¡± Nell bristled at the idea of her late husband¡¯s judgement. Of Papa¡¯s judgement. Of every man¡¯s judgement. ¡°I don¡¯t care to imagine it,¡± she said. ¡°The will states nothing about forbidding me to own the building.¡± Papa narrowed his gaze. His mirth faded like the smoke rising from his cigar butt. ¡°Not in written word, but Nellie, if you will be serious for a moment¡ª¡± ¡°I am serious.¡± She straightened. ¡°It¡¯s because I¡¯m a woman, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°More than that. You are my daughter. The mayor¡¯s daughter.¡± His face hardened, a warning cloud settling over his portly features. ¡°You know absolutely nothing about operating a business, let alone a dangerous factory full of immigrants. Manufacturing is no place for a woman; it¡¯s a male-dominated profession through and through.¡± Nell swallowed past the lump of frustration rising in her throat. ¡°Perhaps American factories suffer numerous accidents due to the lack of insight only a woman can provide.¡± ¡°As good as your intentions may be, I simply will not allow it.¡± Her heart sank. ¡°Please, Papa. Please reconsider.¡± He glared as if she¡¯d sprouted another head. ¡°Are you mad?¡± She averted her eyes, unable to face that heated look a moment longer. Maybe she had lost her mind. Maybe this was going too far. Then she remembered Ruth falling to her knees with earth-shattering cries upon hearing the news of Davy. The raw, bloody anguish of a mother in mourning. No, this was not going too far¡ªthis was not going far enough. Papa sighed, pulling her back to him. His stubby fingers tapped a sprinkling of soot into the ash tray. ¡°Nellie, you know my political position demands a traditional reputation. You used to be such a fair-minded girl who only cared about frivolities. Why don¡¯t you re-direct your attention to more suitable things like charity events, hosting parties, or, more importantly, the notion of re-marrying?¡± She blinked. ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± ¡°It¡¯s high time you seek to acquire a new husband, one who will provide you with more security and be a father to your young children.¡± Nell bristled. She swore she¡¯d never re-marry after Arthur. The idea of living shackled inside another cold matrimonial dungeon made her quake. Summoning dignity, she peered down at the sapphire wedding ring suffocating her finger. ¡°Arthur left me a house and more than enough security,¡± she said flatly. ¡°I do not need another husband, nor do I want one.¡± ¡°A selfish and absurd creed for a woman of only thirty.¡± Papa¡¯s voice stabbed with command. ¡°Arthur has been gone two years now. You¡¯re a beautiful young widow from a well-to-do family. Your children deserve both a mother and a father, especially young Luther. What¡¯s a boy to do without a solid man to look up to?¡± ¡°There are plenty of men in his life. He has you, and Gregory, and Hugo¡ª¡± ¡°Your butler?¡± A raspy laugh bubbled up from his throat. ¡°For God''s sake, Hugo is a fine German, but a father figure? You had best be joking.¡± Everything about his controlling tone grated on her. ¡°With all due respect, how I choose to live my life and raise my children is no one¡¯s business but my own.¡± ¡°If only that were true.¡± Clearing his throat, he placed the smoldering butt in the ash tray. He leaned forward, resting his arms atop the desk with fingers laced. ¡°Whether you care to admit it or not, your personal life is everybody¡¯s business. You are the mayor¡¯s eldest daughter and part of this distinguished family¡ªand therefore, subjected to public scrutiny. If I¡¯m elected governor, your notoriety will triple. I¡¯m tired of digging up excuses to the bachelors who approach me inquiring about you daily.¡± Oh, to hell with the bachelors! "Now,¡± he continued before she could summon a response. ¡°I don''t want to hear another word of this factory nonsense. I¡¯m selling the business, and that is final.¡± ¡°Fine,¡± she said sharply, her composure fluttering out the window. With naught to lose, she gathered her last ounce of courage and rose to her feet. ¡°But you must know the working-class neighborhoods are part of this beloved city, and therefore, part of this state. Its voting residents aren¡¯t blind to a mayor¡¯s neglect.¡± Without waiting for a reaction, she turned and left her father¡¯s office. Her heel steps hammered across the hall, her eyes glistening with angry, unshed tears. When she reached the entrance to her parent¡¯s sitting room, she paused just outside the doorway. She pinched her cheeks, dabbed beneath her eyes, and smoothed the wrinkles from her blouse. ¡°Mama!¡± Grace scrambled off the carpet as Nell entered. The three-year-old¡¯s large, wintry-blue eyes glistened with youth and joy. ¡°Come play dollies with us!¡± ¡°I will, Button. I just need a moment to speak with Auntie Caro about her party tomorrow.¡± Nell ran trembling fingers through her daughter¡¯s strawberry-blonde sausage curls. Caroline sat on the oriental rug with a porcelain doll in hand, her yellow ringlets spilling down her back like summer wheat. A bittersweet sight. Starting tomorrow, the youngest Hubbard daughter would only venture out in public with her hair pinned up. At least Caroline and Margaret didn¡¯t have to suffer fighting with hot irons and dozens of pins like Nell. She was the only Hubbard daughter to have inherited Mother¡¯s thick, unruly red hair. ¡°Oh, please don¡¯t tell me it¡¯s more notes,¡± Caroline teased with a playful whine. ¡°I promise it¡¯s only a handful,¡± Nell replied. ¡°For pity¡¯s sake, Nellie, the ball is tomorrow. And why were you in Papa¡¯s office?¡± ¡°It was a personal matter. Anyway, it¡¯s of no consequence.¡± ¡°What was it about?¡± ¡°Did I not say it was personal?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Caroline looked at Grace with crossed eyes. ¡°But she also said it was of no consequence, didn¡¯t she?¡± Grace giggled, oblivious to the discussion. ¡°No consequence to you,¡± Nell countered, a small grin finding its way to her lips. Burying the sting of Papa¡¯s rejection, she took her young daughter¡¯s hand and led her back to the rug laden with dolls. ¡°Wicked sister.¡± Caroline held up her palms in surrender. ¡°Very well, I¡¯ll leave it be. Now let us hear the damage, shall we? Who is left on the docket?¡± Nell pulled the ink pen and small notebook from her reticule and claimed an armchair. Licking a finger, she fanned through page after page of notes she¡¯d subtly taken at parties and gatherings over the past few months. Robert Thatcher: Twenty- three, history enthusiast, eldest of six children, nervous dancer. Harold Brown: Thirty-two, plantation owner, widower, and very tall. Dull, but nice. Warren Fletcher: Twenty- five, handsome. Father owns a steel mill¡­ Twice as many prospects as both she and Margaret had at age nineteen. Finally, she reached the page with the most recent notes and cleared her throat. ¡°I¡¯ll start with the Monroe brothers.¡± Caroline didn¡¯t look up from playing with Grace. ¡°When did you see them?¡± ¡°I spoke with both at the Carmichael¡¯s silent auction last night. You should only pay mind to the younger one, Ethan. Bartholomew isn¡¯t worth your time.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°He drinks like a sailor, smokes like a chimney, and I¡¯m convinced he has a gambling addiction. All I heard him talk about were horse races, river boats, and placing bets.¡± ¡°For heaven¡¯s sake, Nellie.¡± Caroline laughed. ¡°If only these men knew how you spied on them. How many poor suitors have you whittled it down to by now? Two? Three? You cannot cross every man off your list just because he blinks or coughs in a manner you don¡¯t like.¡± Nell rolled her eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t be so dramatic. If I had whittled it down to two or three, they would be two or three of the best suited for you. When it comes to what men desire, they can be relentless with their courting. They will stop at nothing, even if it means breaking all the¡ª¡± Caroline cut her off with a groan. ¡°I don¡¯t understand why everyone in this family must force their opinions on me. Contrary to what you believe, I do have standards and ideas about what¡¯s best for my life. I¡¯m much smarter than you or Margaret were at my age.¡± ¡°I truly hope so.¡± Nell noticed the bitterness tainting her voice. She couldn¡¯t help it. Only a fool would have wed the next handsome bachelor who came along after Teddy, and Margaret had practically been matched to Edwin Crane since birth. Two hollow, convenient marriages. Well Nell would crawl through the muck and mire to spare Caroline from the same fate. No wife should have to shield her desires from an ever-absent husband. No woman deserved to feel her insignificance gnaw away at her like rust on a railroad spike, while she put on a false smile for the rest of the world. Love was often shallow and vague in their class. But did it have to be? No, when Caroline decided to take a beau, anyone less than admirable would not do. Chapter Two CHAPTER TWO John leaned out the trolley window as it coasted through the heart of Des Moines. Carriages whizzed past, leaving clouds of dirt in their wake. Sidewalks lined the road on both sides, with several pedestrians promenading in front of the various businesses and storefronts. The shiny brass bell dinged, and the warm wind lashed his face, carrying the scents of draft horses, smoke, and sweat. ¡°Hey, fella. You hear about this?¡± John turned. The stocky man sitting beside him displayed the front page of The Iowa Dispatch. There, in bold print read the headline: Richmond, VA First City to Successfully Electrify a Streetcar. John ogled the photograph. ¡°Good God. That¡¯s magnificent.¡± ¡°Imagine if they had something like that here.¡± ¡°Or New York for that matter. Shame the south came up with the idea first.¡± The man snorted, eyeing John¡¯s suitcase. ¡°I had a feeling you were a yankee. Your accent certainly isn¡¯t of the midwestern variety.¡± John grinned. ¡°New York, you say?¡± the man continued, dragging a stained kerchief across his sweaty brow. ¡°You must be out here on business then. Otherwise, what in the name of Sam Hill would bring you to a state like Iowa?¡± John didn¡¯t believe in fate, but when the man folded the newspaper across his lap, the article on the bottom half of the page made him do a double take. It read: Mayor Hubbard¡¯s Weeklong Event of the Season to Commence Tomorrow. Caroline had said every bachelor in the state would be there. She wasn¡¯t lying. Why not announce it to the entire Midwest? The headline stirred up feelings of annoyance. ¡°I suppose you could call it business.¡± Suddenly, the fun of socializing left him. The trolley stopped, allowing an elderly couple and a family of four to board. John could see his hotel clearly from here, and he¡¯d be one lazy son-of-a bitch if he didn¡¯t walk the remaining block or two. He bid the kind man farewell, picked up his suitcase, and stepped onto the street. Wooing the coveted Caroline Hubbard would be much easier said than done. He felt like a cad, letting a public headline intimidate him, but he could practically hear the sixty dollars left to his name screaming inside his pocket. Father had decided to pull the trigger last week. Once that last bill arrived from the carriage repair shop, he cut John off entirely. He hadn¡¯t meant to steer off the road and into a lamppost. He also hadn¡¯t planned on getting too drunk to drive at Michael Brady¡¯s stag party. Damned drinking games. A bead of sweat rolled down his nose. The weather felt several degrees hotter than home, even with today¡¯s aggressive winds. Tugging his necktie and high collar a little looser, he strode quickly toward The Willister Hotel. A cool refreshment and a comfortable lodging sounded perfect. The sooner he could peel off his sweat-ridden travel clothes and wash off, the bett¡ª Whack! Something smacked him in the face, blinding him. It hurt too, and no wonder, once John identified the offensive object. A woman¡¯s hat made of straw and feathers, with a long pin digging deep into his cheek¡ªcentimeters from his eye. Christ! ¡°Oh, mercy! Oh, this wind! I¡¯m so sorry, sir!¡± a shrill voice called from somewhere in front of him. The poor woman sounded mortified¡­ and loud. ¡°It¡¯s quite alright.¡± He ripped the rogue accessory from his face and handed it to her, ignoring the curious stares of passersby. ¡°No harm done, ma¡¯am, I assure you.¡± Their gazes met, and she flattened a hand on her tightly cinched waist. Shit. Of all the women in Des Moines to run into. Any other time, John would have taken this opportunity to flirt, but Lord, not with her. Ten years later, and Eleanora Hubbard¡¯s fair, heart-shaped face remained the same. Wind-tousled curls of auburn hair fell from her bun, a few of them tangling with her pearl earrings. Her full, raspberry lips grimaced with embarrassment, and the depth of her sea-green eyes... those seemed different. Exactly how they had changed, he couldn¡¯t quite put his finger on. Still beautiful¡ªmore striking then he remembered. No doubt her prude and snobbish personality had remained unaltered. If she recognized him, she didn''t show it. ¡°This silly thing came loose in the wind.¡± She spoke with a nervous chuckle, splotches of crimson fresh upon her cheeks. ¡°I¡¯d barely secured another pin when it blew right off my head. Hats aren¡¯t worth the trouble on days like these, I¡¯m afraid.¡± Tucking the straw monstrosity beneath her arm, she brushed the unruly tendrils from her face. ¡°Are you certain you¡¯re all right? You¡¯re¡­ bleeding just a little.¡± Was he? He wiped a hand across his cheek. It stung, but a polite smile kept her from knowing it. ¡°I¡¯ve been attacked by similar things in the wind. Newspapers, blinding soot, parasols¡ªa stray pigeon here and there. Now I can cross hats off my list. I must admit yours put up a good fight.¡± ¡°You are being far too kind.¡± Returning his smile, she looked at the suitcase in his hand. ¡°I am so sorry again to have startled you. I shall be out of your way before my hat decides to return for a re-match. Safe travels and have a lovely afternoon.¡± He tipped his bowler. ¡°Same to you, madam.¡± They exchanged a cordial nod, and she continued down the street. She hadn¡¯t a clue¡ªthank God. He never should have worried. The woman was such a self-absorbed socialite that she probably wouldn¡¯t recognize her own mother in passing. He wiped his cheek again and had barely taken three steps in the opposite direction when he noticed a neglected parcel on the sidewalk. Typical. ¡°Miss Hubbard, you forgot something!¡± he called, snatching it up by the twine string. She spun around, pressing a palm to her forehead. ¡°Oh, my goodness! Thank you! I swear my mind is all over the place this morning, and I just cannot seem to keep¡ª¡± All at once, she froze. Pursing her lips, she studied him curiously. ¡°I beg your pardon, but have we met?¡± Shit, shit, shit. You used her name, you fool! He¡¯d no choice but to acknowledge it now. Clenching the taught package string until it dug into his flesh, he strode toward her. ¡°The years have certainly changed my appearance more than they have yours, and I mean that in the best way possible. You look wonderful as ever, Eleanora.¡± She took a step back, a play of emotions highlighting every feature. Her cheeks colored yet again, and then her brow wrinkled. Finally, her eyes widened, and she took a step back. Her mouth went agape. ¡°John Baldwin.¡± He inclined his head. ¡°It¡¯s been a long time.¡± ¡°Yes, indeed. It has been a¡­ very long time,¡± she stammered, her voice suddenly tight and high-pitched. Despite her shock, he could tell she thought him handsome. ¡°Here, let me help you with these,¡± he offered, holding up the parcel. ¡°No, no, that is quite all right,¡± she answered quickly. ¡°My buggy is just around the corner. But my, what a surprise to see you. May I ask what you are visiting Richmond for?¡± John faltered. She wasn¡¯t behaving in the manner he was accustomed to. Women usually played the damsel in distress in his presence, or giggled uncontrollably while avoiding eye contact, but Nellie boldly met his gaze. Eventually, he would have to tell her the truth. Ah well. It was better to catch flies with honey than vinegar. ¡°What are your plans for the rest of the day?¡± Her composure returned, reminding him of the imperious Eleanora he once knew. ¡°I just have a few more errands to run, and I suppose that is all.¡± ¡°Well then, I¡¯d love to buy you a soda and have a proper reunion.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. She smiled, but it looked forced. ¡°A generous offer, sir, but I will have you do no such thing. I insist you drop by my home this afternoon for a nice cold glass of lemonade instead. How does four o¡¯clock sound to you?¡± He grinned. ¡°Sounds dandy.¡± She pulled a small card and pen from her reticule and began jotting down an address. As she wrote with her left hand, he noticed the sparkling sapphire ring upon her finger. That¡¯s right, Eleanora was widowed. What was her wedded name again? He couldn¡¯t for the life of him remember. Not wanting to be caught staring, he took the paper and placed it in his jacket pocket. ¡°Wonderful. Four o¡¯ clock. I look forward to it.¡± ¡°As do I. Feel free to ask the locals for directions if you become lost,¡± she said, freeing his hand of the package. ¡°You will find that the Midwest possesses unmatched hospitality. I¡¯ll be seeing you soon, Mr. Baldwin.¡± He didn¡¯t expect the confident way she had spoken to him, but then again, she had no idea he would be attending Caroline¡¯s party. When she did find out, the talons would emerge. ¡°Take care.¡± He tipped his hat once more and watched her disappear around the corner shop, hips swaying. What a marvelous little backside she had. The Hubbard sisters were certainly blessed in terms of looks. But so many women were attractive. Personality held equal, if not greater importance in a wife. Caroline¡¯s suitors probably knew as much. But those men didn¡¯t stand a chance against her aloof nature, free spirit, and quick wit. No man but John. He retrieved his abandoned suitcase, wiped his brow, and continued down the busy road. A large lunch and long nap would do him good before being thrust back into Eleanora¡¯s company. She¡¯d been kind to invite him to her home, knowing full well he was Teddy¡¯s brother. Just as he¡¯d suspected, she was far past it by now. *** Today must be cursed. Nell sighed as Ruth vigorously dabbed at the massive stain on her blue bodice. First her hat blows off¡ªinto John Baldwin of all people¡ªand now, her poor dress. Grace clutched her nanny Johanna¡¯s skirt, sucking her thumb and crying like an abandoned kitten. Even Nell found it difficult to mind her daughter¡¯s sensitive nature; she¡¯d barely gasped when Grace spilled milk onto her silk dress, yet that had been enough to set the child off. ¡°Everything is fine, Button. See? Ruth is fixing it right now.¡± Nell smiled and patted her maid¡¯s shoulder in a friendly manner. Ruth nodded cheerfully. ¡°I¡¯ll make it good as new, wee miss. I promise.¡± ¡°But... I... got... Mama¡¯s... pretty... dress... dirty,¡± Grace gasped between sobs. ¡°T¡¯was an accident, my love.¡± Nell held out her hand. Grace approached and clutched it tightly. ¡°You remember what I told you about accidents, don¡¯t you?¡± A pair of piercing azure eyes came back to haunt her. Her blood chilled, and she remembered Arthur demeaning her for every little mistake. Wearing too revealing or too modest a dress. Speaking too much or too little. Spilling a drop of salad dressing on the fine table linen. Holding another man¡¯s arm too tightly. A proper woman never did anything wrong. A proper woman was perfect¡ªhis wife was perfect. Thankfully, Grace barely remembered him. Grace sniffled and recited, ¡°Don¡¯t be ashamed when an accident is to blame.¡± ¡°Precisely.¡± Nell reached down and lifted her daughter¡¯s chin. ¡°So, dry those tears and hold your head high. Mama must prepare to visit with a guest now, while Johanna takes you upstairs for your bath.¡± She kissed Grace¡¯s soft, wet cheek. ¡°I will see you very soon, Button.¡± Grace nodded taking her nanny¡¯s hand. ¡°You know,¡± Johanna said as she guided Grace out of the parlor, ¡°when I was a wee girl, I got mud all over me mam¡¯s new dress.¡± Grace gasped. ¡°Oh, no! Was she angry?¡± ¡°Oh, aye. T¡¯was a whole lotta mud, too and right before church¡­¡± When they turned down the hall, Johanna¡¯s thick Irish accent and Grace¡¯s resounding giggles trailed off into a muffle. ¡°So,¡± Ruth smirked, continuing to dab at the stain. ¡°Tell me more about this Mr. Baldwin who caught your hat this morning.¡± ¡°I never should have invited him here,¡± Nell said with a sigh. She regretted how flustered she¡¯d become in his presence. As if she¡¯d never known a boy could grow into a man. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen him in close to ten years. What are we supposed to talk about?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve known him for yonks, haven¡¯t you? A long time?¡± Nell nodded. ¡°In New York, our families had lived just down the road from one another. His brother Theodore was a year older than me, and John was Margaret¡¯s age. We were members of the same church, attended the same parties, and we had the same friends.¡± ¡°There you are. Just speak about the past.¡± ¡°That might not be the best idea.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°John never cared for me, Ruth. In fact, the feeling was mutual. I only invited him to be polite¡ª¡± ¡°Pardon me, Madam.¡± Hugo appeared in the arched doorway. ¡°Mr. John Baldwin is here to see you.¡± Nell nodded to her butler. ¡°Yes, thank you, Hugo. Please show him in.¡± Ruth moved away, assessing the offensive milk stain. ¡°That¡¯s all I can take out at the moment. Sure you don¡¯t want me to fetch you a different bodice? It¡¯ll only take a minute.¡± ¡°No, dear, that won¡¯t be necessary. I have no one to impress.¡± Nell tugged at her sleeves and smoothed her blue satin skirts. Two years ago, she would have had every curl in place, her dress completely wrinkle-less, and the finest French fragrances coating her neck. But there were far more important things than a pristine appearance. ¡°Aye, best of luck, mam.¡± Ruth took up her washcloth and soapy glass of water, slipping past Baldwin as he strolled into the room. Away from the prying public, Nell could finally take a good look at him without feeling inappropriate. He stood just shy of six feet¡ªperhaps five-foot-eleven or so. Dark chocolate eyes framed a handsome, square-set face, his thick crop of hair equally as dark. The rich outlines of his shoulders strained against the fabric of his three-piece-suit. Yes, quite different from the scrawny adolescent she¡¯d remembered long ago. A decade of growth had unfortunately done him good. She offered a vague, closed mouth smile. ¡°John Baldwin, I¡¯m so pleased you could make it.¡± ¡°Glad to be here, thank you,¡± he said, pulling the bowler from his head. Spinning the brim in his hands, he took in her soiled dress. ¡°I only hope I¡¯m not inconveniencing you.¡± ¡°Not at all. Have a seat, won¡¯t you?¡± In a grand, awkward gesture, she motioned to the green settee across from her. ¡°Spilled milk, I¡¯m afraid,¡± she said, lowering herself into the nearest armchair. Pursing her lips, she braced herself for a patronizing reaction. ¡°Ah.¡± To her surprise, his mouth twitched with amusement. ¡°Well, it is an honor to be in the presence of General George Washington.¡± What in the world? ¡°I ... beg your pardon?¡± ¡°Do you have a mirror?¡± Nell¡¯s cheeks grew hot, and she clasped her hands together to keep from slapping him. Judgment was one thing, but name-calling? Of all the terrible insults¡ª No one had ever compared her to an old president before! She gaped as Baldwin strode toward the console table. He took the silver hand-held mirror that rested on top, claimed a seat on the settee, and angled the looking glass so it faced her. ¡°Look, see?¡± He showed her the stain¡¯s reflection. ¡°It¡¯s unmistakable. President Washington¡¯s ghost has decided to manifest in the form of a spot upon your dress.¡± She peered into the mirror, focusing on the unsightly blotch. It took but a second to see it. Of all the ridiculous things. There, plain as day, she could clearly make out the chin, nose and powdered wig of Washington¡¯s profile. She smiled to shield her embarrassment. ¡°How very clever. You¡¯ve always had an eye for detail, haven¡¯t you? You used to win all those memory games we played.¡± ¡°With the little pictures?¡± he said brightly. ¡°I loved those games. I might have been a little too good at them. Nowadays, I tend to voice my observations as they pop into my head, without putting much thought into how they might be received.¡± ¡°Well, it was my fault for assuming the worst. Something I must work on.¡± What on earth had possessed her to say that? The blame didn¡¯t belong with her! When he stood to return the mirror, she grimaced behind his back. ¡°I felt awful when I noticed the way your shoulders raised ever so slightly, and how the gentle glimmer in your eyes turned to flames when I mentioned Washington.¡± He had the confident tone of a man used to getting his way. Where had that scrawny adolescent gone? She had no problem picking on that boy. Indeed, young Johnny had grown into quite the charmer. But fluff and praise would get him nowhere. At least, it shouldn¡¯t. Somehow, the rehearsed Washington line felt like the most authentic flattery she¡¯d had in years. Goodness, why did this feel so trying? Ruth entered the room with a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses filled with ice¡ªa perfect distraction from the martyrdom contest. Dinner was just around the corner. In the meantime, she only had to withstand a half-an-hour of idle-prattle with a man she never had to see again. She could manage this. She was a professional at petty conversation. The ice crackled and popped as Ruth poured them each a glass. ¡°Ring if you need anything else, madam.¡± she said, just before hurrying out of the room. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said with a smile. ¡°Yes, thank you, Ruth.¡± Nell sipped her lemonade, listening to the floorboards creak as he traveled back toward his seat. ¡°So,¡± she said at last. ¡°What brings you to Des Moines, Mr. Baldwin?¡± ¡°Mr. Baldwin?¡± He jerked his head back. ¡°Whatever happened to John?¡± ¡°John,¡± she parroted, counting the ice in her glass to keep from looking at those troublesome dark eyes again. ¡°Forgive me. I used to call you that, didn¡¯t I?¡± That, and a variety of other, less desirable names. ¡°I think it would be grand if we could pretend no time has passed between us.¡± He settled deeper into his chair in a masculine fashion, with one bent leg resting on the other. ¡°But that might be wishful thinking, considering the circumstances of our last interaction. I¡¯d be more than willing to start anew, as grown adults living mature lives.¡± Raising his glass, he took a large gulp of lemonade. ¡°Mm, that¡¯s delicious. The perfect combination of sweet and sour.¡± Nell sipped politely, lost as to why this man wanted to make amends. Was he dying? Did he need to clear his conscience with those he''d wronged? Surely, he didn¡¯t plan on developing some sort of friendship with her. Or perhaps it was far simpler than that. Ten years was a very long time, after all, and he was right; they were adults now. She¡¯d grown into a completely different person since then, so why couldn¡¯t John? For the first time since their reunion, she buried the remainder of her old grudge in a shallow grave. Perhaps someday, it might sink deeper. ¡°A lemon soda phosphate will never be as refreshing as homemade lemonade,¡± she said, allowing herself a small, yet genuine grin. ¡°True, but there is that tingling sensation only a soda can give.¡± His tone was playful, inviting. ¡°It bubbles across your tongue like a thousand tiny sparks. Makes me feel like a kid every time.¡± ¡°I never said all sodas didn¡¯t compare. Egg phosphates could very well be my favorite beverage in the entire world.¡± ¡°Well then, I¡¯ll have to treat you to one sometime this week.¡± His eyes lit, and he smiled that confident smile again. ¡°I¡¯m so glad we¡¯re on good terms, Nellie.¡± She glanced away while taking a dainty sip. ¡°Is that how long you¡¯re staying? A week?¡± ¡°Give or take.¡± ¡°And you never mentioned why you¡¯ve come to Des Moines of all places.¡± When he raised his glass to his lips, she could see the hesitation written all over his face, like a bold advertisement on the side of a building. ¡°Actually¡­ I¡¯ve come to attend a party. Your sister¡¯s party.¡± Chapter Three
Nell could have sworn her heart stopped beating.
Frozen in place, she rummaged frantically through her mind for any way John¡¯s words might be a ruse. She waited for him to laugh, or wink, or tell her he was joking, but he just sat there with a pleasant grin¡ªfeeding off her hospitality like a leech.
Her skin grew cold. Her throat burned with suppressed outrage. The utter nerve!
She parted her lips to say, ¡°how dare you!¡± but only the first word managed to escape. ¡°How¡­¡±
¡°Well,¡± John shrugged, ¡°because she invited me.¡±
Oh, she could knock that glass of lemonade from his hand! ¡°I had assumed that much. But you haven¡¯t spoken to my sister in years. Unless¡­¡± When the realization dawned on her, she shut her eyes. ¡°You saw Caroline this summer, didn¡¯t you? You must have.¡±
He hesitated. The manner in which he chewed his top lip reminded her of Luther, moments before confessing to doing something naughty. ¡°I did see her, yes. But I¡¯ve¡­ been speaking to Liney for much longer, actually. Through letters. We¡¯ve shared a mutual correspondence ever since your family moved to Iowa.¡±
Liney?
Nell stiffened, breathless with rage. ¡°What? That can¡¯t be true.¡±
He arched a dark eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯ve nothing to gain from lying to you.¡±
¡°Surely she would have told me of these letters.¡±
¡°With all due respect, everyone is entitled to their own privacy.¡±
Nell blinked. It seemed John still knew exactly how to draw a rise out of her. Heaven on earth, of all the ludicrous things¡ªIt couldn¡¯t be! Caroline was all but nine-years-old then. Why would she have written John? How could she have kept such a long correspondence a secret?
In an effort to maintain composure, Nell placed a hand on her midsection, pressing against the stiff whalebone corset beneath. ¡°Do you¡­ have intentions to court my sister?¡±
¡°I wouldn¡¯t be here if I didn¡¯t.¡± He twisted his glass between his hands. ¡°I believe I could make her very happy, and I¡¯ve no doubt she will make me happy too.¡±
Dear Lord, she could barely breathe. ¡°And has my sister¡­ expressed her affections?¡±
¡°It would be ungentlemanly of me to answer that¡ª¡±
¡°Oh, please do,¡± she insisted, her heart battering inside her chest like a caged bird.
¡°Forgive me,¡± he cocked his head, ¡°I was under the impression that we were on amicable terms now. I can¡¯t help but feel your objection towards my interest in your sister.¡±
¡°Objection?¡± Nell let out an uncomfortable chuckle. ¡°Why would there be any objection?¡± Shifting on the cushion, she reached for her lemonade on the side table. ¡°How is your brother these days? I do hope he¡¯s well.¡±
Sipping, she peered at him over the rim of her glass. A shadow of discomfort crossed John¡¯s face, and she inwardly congratulated herself for succeeding at the juvenile jab. But her victory was cut short when John¡¯s mouth twisted into a viscous, maddening smile.
¡°Theodore is doing very well, actually,¡± he stated bluntly. ¡°His hospital is expanding the postoperative ward next spring, and he¡¯s just brought in two brilliant surgeons from Detroit and Chicago. The papers seem to write about him constantly these days, what with all the charity events and awards. Still, no matter how big he gets, his humility remains the same. He¡¯s a model of a man.¡±
The words had sliced through Nell, despite her asking for them. No doubt Teddy had a big, beautiful family by now, too. A heavy sensation settled beneath her breast. Not anger, jealousy, or resentment, but more the dull ache of regret. ¡°Well, I couldn¡¯t be happier for him.¡±
A span of silence¡ªas thick as it was long¡ªensued as they sipped their beverages. Tick by tick, the mantle clock marked away the seconds. The thin ivory curtains framing the open window fluttered in the breeze. The neighbor¡¯s spaniel barked somewhere off in the distance. Every time Nell raised her eyes, she found John watching her.
¡°I apologize,¡± he said at last. ¡°The way I gloated about my brother was in poor taste.¡±
¡°There is no fault in being proud of one¡¯s siblings.¡± The ache resurfaced, and she pushed it away again. ¡°Or looking out for their best interests. Surely you of all people can understand.¡±
One corner of his mouth raised in a smirk. ¡°You¡¯re going to make this very difficult for me, aren¡¯t you?¡±
¡°I doubt I need to.¡± She did her best to sound as blunt as him. ¡°My sister is a grown woman and fully capable of making her own decisions¡ªif she even wants to marry soon, which she may not.¡± Raising her glass, she saluted him. ¡°I wish you the best of luck. There will be several men in attendance this week with the same intentions as you.¡±
The amused way in which he regarded her grated on her nerves. ¡°I don¡¯t blame your attempt to intimidate. In fact, I welcome the challenge.¡±
Of course he did. She couldn¡¯t help but feel the magnetism that made him so self-confident. Her husband had possessed the same quality, yet in an authoritative, intimidating manner. Baldwin exuded something closer to rebellion, boldness, and spontaneity. Funny, she no longer felt three years older than him. Time did strange things to a person.
A dreadful thought came over her. What might ten years of correspondence lead to? She¡¯d have to wait until tomorrow to confront Caroline about the letters. When it came to John, Nell prayed her sister¡¯s loyalty triumphed over romantic interest.
* * *
Once the heavy front door had shut behind him, John rolled his shoulders and allowed himself a moment to breathe. Thank God that was over. Here he had planned on avoiding Nellie the entire week, yet an unfortunate chance encounter had forced him into her presence before the party even began. He knew she wouldn¡¯t welcome him with open arms, not after he¡¯d convinced Teddy to break her synthetic heart a decade ago. Ah well, hopefully the dust would settle now.
He ambled between the tall colonial pillars and down the steps of the white plantation-style house. A lush, flower-filled landscape surrounded him on his exit. He watched the butterflies feed, and the bees pollenate, battling for their lives against the unpredictable winds.
A heavy gust lashed the air, and he caught his bowler before it blew off his head for the hundredth time today. The long branches of a massive willow resembled angry whips as they flailed in the breeze.
Snap!
He sprang forward. ¡°Christ Almighty!¡± His left butt cheek stung like hell. When he spun around and spotted the rock that had struck him, pain turned to embarrassment. ¡°Who did that?¡± he called, picking up the jagged little stone. ¡°I could have you arrested for trespassing on private property. I demand you show yourself!¡±
No answer.
¡°Show yourself, damn you!¡±
He scanned each manicured bush and tree, and then strode around the wide porch so he could see behind all six pillars. Clever assassin. But John was smarter.
He spun around slowly, continuing away from the house. Gritting his teeth, he braced himself for impact. When a second stone careened into his thigh, he choked back a curse and hit the grass. Shutting his eyes, he waited, motionless. Second after biting second passed, and the longer John waited, the dumber he felt. Suppose Nellie stepped outside and saw him splayed in her front lawn like a dead opossum? That would be just his luck.
His thoughts froze when he felt the tap of a shoe on his shin. A small shove followed. Then, a kick. Eureka. John reached out and grabbed his assailant by the ankle. The boy¡ªabout seven or eight¡ªsquealed as John pinned him to the ground and pried the wooden slingshot from his grip. ¡°Aha! What do we have here?¡±This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
¡°Let me go!¡± the child yowled.
¡°You think it¡¯s funny shooting rocks at unarmed visitors, do you?¡±
¡°You deserved it!¡± The boy squirmed for a moment, and then glared.
¡°Oh, I did, did I?¡± John fought the smirk threatening to break through his stone expression. He couldn¡¯t help it. It was like staring into the past. This child, brown-eyed, freckle-faced, and shaggy-haired, reminded John so much of himself at that age. ¡°I¡¯d love to hear your reasoning.¡±
¡°A man doesn¡¯t need a reason to defend his own property.¡±
His property?
John released the boy. Nellie¡¯s son. Of course¡ªwhy didn¡¯t he see it before? The small up-turned nose, the heart-shaped face, the soiled, yet high-quality clothes¡­
¡°I¡¯ll agree with you on that, soldier. But does your mother know you attack her guests?¡± He grasped the lad¡¯s scrawny arm and pulled him to his feet.
¡°You¡¯re a stranger, not a guest.¡± The child yanked his arm free. ¡°Are you the man who keeps sending my mother flowers and gifts? I won¡¯t let you marry her. I won¡¯t. Stay away.¡±
What a peculiar thing for a child to say. ¡°I admire your will, young man. Rest assured that I have never sent your mother a gift. I am not, nor will I ever be interested in marrying her.¡± A wave of sickness passed through him at the very idea. ¡°Your aunt Caroline is a dear friend, you see. I¡¯ll be attending her party this week. I hear it¡¯s going to be fun.¡±
Folding his arms, the boy stared at him through narrowed eyes. ¡°Then why are you at Mother¡¯s and not auntie Caro¡¯s?¡±
Smart child.
¡°To say hello.¡± John reached out to brush the grass from the boy¡¯s sleeve, but the boy recoiled. ¡°I¡¯m a friend of your mother¡¯s, too. I¡¯ve known your family for a very long time.¡±
¡°I¡¯ve never seen you before.¡±
¡°That¡¯s because I¡¯m from the northeast. Have you heard of a state called New York?¡±
¡°Of course I have. That¡¯s where Mother comes from.¡± The child sniffed and observed John from head to toe. He held out his hand. ¡°May I have my slingshot back, please?¡±
¡°Promise not to shoot anyone with it?¡±
¡°Luther! You leave that nice gentleman alone and come wash up for dinner.¡±
John turned to see a petite brunette standing on the portico, her hands plunked on slender hips. At a distance, she reminded him of Madelyn. Madelyn¡ª the name still lingered around the edges of his mind. Every time he thought of her, a bittersweet ache followed suit.
He buried the memory and returned his attention to Luther, whose contemptuous little eyes had grown wide as dinner plates.
¡°Keep it,¡± the boy whispered, before sprinting off toward the house. ¡°Coming, Johanna!¡±
John cupped a hand to his mouth. ¡°Nice meeting you, Luther!¡±
Tucking the slingshot into the back of his trousers, he waved to the pretty woman and continued off the property. If the little scamp wasn¡¯t allowed to have the weapon, turning him in wouldn¡¯t be the best idea. John couldn¡¯t afford a single enemy¡ªeven a pint-sized one¡ªin this foreign, Midwestern land. Who knew the depth of Luther and his mother¡¯s relationship? The last thing John needed was Nell hating him more¡ªif that was possible.
Later that evening, he dined at the hotel restaurant, played a game of billiards, and then indulged in two glasses of brandy in the gentlemen¡¯s lounge. The event he¡¯d travelled all this way for began tomorrow, and to his surprise, his gut knotted with apprehension. Damn if the alcohol didn¡¯t make it worse. Nellie¡¯s comment about the several men in attendance bothered him more than it should have. What did he know about wooing a young and wholesome girl?
Absolutely nothing¡ªthat¡¯s what.
When eleven thirty rolled around, he was far from ready for bed. He left the lounge, trudged down the carpeted stairs, and approached the younger of two women stationed behind the lobby desk. ¡°Excuse me, miss. What does this fine town have to offer in terms of entertainment after dark?¡±
The girl smiled, tucking a yellow curl behind her ear. ¡°Exactly what type of establishment do you seek, sir?¡± She spoke with an adorable European accent. ¡°Most places in the area close up at eleven or so.¡±
¡°In that case, anything that¡¯s open I suppose.¡±
¡°There¡¯s a dance hall five blocks south called To and Fro. It doesn¡¯t close until sunrise.¡±
He flashed her a charming smile. ¡°Is it popular?¡±
Her face turned a bright shade of pink. ¡°Oh, yes. Everyone has been there at least once.¡±
¡°Have you been there?¡±
¡°No, sir. My family just recently moved here from Poland.¡±
¡°Poland. So that¡¯s where your charming accent is from.¡± Placing his hands on the edge of the desk, he leaned forward slightly. ¡°Well, you had best try the place out yourself before referring your guests, don¡¯t you think, Miss¡­?¡±
¡°Celia.¡± Her eyes grew large and coy.
¡°Celia,¡± he repeated, mimicking her accent.
The other clerk cleared her throat and shot them a condescending look as she wiped down the counter.
John straightened. What the hell was he doing compromising this young woman¡¯s job? The girl just moved here, for God¡¯s sake, and that older woman could be related to her. He was an imbecile. He was selfish. He deserved to be cut off.
¡°Thank you for your help, Miss Celia.¡± With a small bow, he tipped his hat. ¡°I¡¯m off to discover that dance hall. Have a lovely evening, ladies.¡±
When he stepped outside, the wind had subsided a little, and the breeze felt cooler in the sun¡¯s absence. The neighborhood smelled of barbeque and chimney smoke, and the gas streetlamps shone brightly, casting a silvery shimmer on the pavement. Five long blocks later, he reached the To and Fro Dance Hall. An illuminated sign hung across the brick building. Lively music blared through the closed entrance door. This would be it¡ªone last hurrah before he¡¯d pull himself together, shackled with the chains of responsibility forever.
Removing his hat, he stepped into a tall room with an enormous dance floor. Saloon girls in vibrant colors and waiters with trays whirled about, while rambunctious patrons drank, danced, and smoked. Crimson booths with tables lined the walls. Men leaned over the upper-level balconies, laughing and conversing with drinks in hand. A platform stage harbored a dozen or so musicians, playing louder than a John Philip Sousa march. Five people barreled in behind him, bumping his shoulder.
Celia had failed to mention that this was the only open establishment in all of Iowa.
All at once, John felt the same motivation to leave as he did in coming. He didn¡¯t feel like swimming through crowds. He didn¡¯t need three more drinks. He should be in bed, forcing himself to sleep before the most important week of his life, the week his inheritance relied on. His social game needed to be at its best. Raking a hand through his hair, he turned and went back outside. He could really use a smoke.
¡°Ow!¡± a woman screeched, somewhere off to his right.
¡°Shhh! Hush, lass,¡± a man responded atop a drunken chuckle.
John turned to see two working-class couples intertwined across the street. One of the men helped the laughing woman up off the ground and ushered her into the alley behind the storefronts. The other couple snickered, peering cautiously around before following. A fourth man followed suit, a cigarette butt dangling from his lips. Wherever they were going, their laughter meant it must have been someplace fun.
John followed them silently, staying within the shadows and minding his steps as he crossed the road and crept through the alley. The stench of old garbage filled his nostrils. Ducking behind a tall pile of crates, he heard them knock a specific rhythm on a metal door. It opened, and then shut. When he peered around the corner, the group was gone.
Another couple emerged from the alley and did the exact same thing. Shortly after, three more people were granted entry.
John¡¯s hands bunched in and out of fists. Very interesting. He burned to know what was going on inside the back of that building. If he decided to try his luck at the knock, he had but a single chance to succeed. What was it again? Five quick raps, four loud, and two soft? Or was it seven quick, three loud, and three soft? He could just sit here and wait for someone else. Yes, if he heard the combination once more, he¡¯d surely have it down the next time.
Ten fruitless minutes later, he pulled his grandfather¡¯s watch from his waistcoat pocket. Nearly one o¡¯clock. Enough. This was ludicrous. Rising to his feet, he brushed the dirt from his rear. The door swung open. John ducked as two giggling, inebriated women exited, arm in arm. If they saw him crouched in the shadows, they would scream bloody murder. Biting the tip of his thumb, he strained to listen to their conversation. Their words were barely comprehendible as they laughed and stumbled toward the alley, their boot steps crunching on the dirt.
¡°Mercy, I¡¯ve had too much. Lord knows the headache I¡¯ll be nursing tomorrow,¡± one of them said, as they drew closer. ¡°Hold my skirts, will you? These shoes are coming off! What was I thinking, wearing new shoes in hopes of breaking them in? A terrible idea!¡±
In another world, that voice could have easily belonged to Nellie Hubbard. It sounded identical. But clearly this vivacious, brazen woman was the opposite of her vocal twin.
¡°Oh, no you don¡¯t. These streets are filthier than a pirate¡¯s used bathwater,¡± the second¡ªan Irish woman¡ªremarked. ¡°S¡¯ppose you cut your foot on a nail or a shard of glass? How will you dance with blisters and stitches all week?¡±
¡°That is simply a risk I am willing to take,¡± the first woman proclaimed with a snort-like laugh. ¡°Besides, a few stitches may be the perfect excuse to remain in bed. I doubt anyone would even notice my absence.¡±
Cheeky thing. John found himself smiling like a loon.
¡°Faith, and miss seeing all your careful planning come to life? You¡¯ve worked too hard for that. Besides, who else is gonna watch over Miss Caroline with all the distractions and hullabaloo going on?¡±
His mouth fell open. It was Nellie Hubbard!
¡°You are absolutely right, dear Ruth. Those arrogant bachelors are nothing but trouble! I know their kind all too well. My littlest sister is a mere trophy prize to them. And the audacity of that John Baldwin! Travelling all this way just to out-peacock the competition. Thinking he stands a chance ¡­¡±
He rose slowly and stepped out from behind the crates, watching the women¡¯s dark figures slip further down the alleyway until they disappeared around the corner. Their merry voices grew more and more distant until naught but silence surrounded him.
How could this be? He didn¡¯t understand. Perhaps he was going insane. This prude and uptight stick-in-the-mud was sneaking around after dark, attending working-class dance halls with her maid?
His pulse pounded. A twisting sensation spread across the top of his breastbone. The nerves he¡¯d felt earlier disappeared without a trace, leaving raw astonishment in their wake. So, the little spoilsport who¡¯d hounded him about modesty and perfection wasn¡¯t so ¡°perfect¡± after all.
Good God, he could not wait until tomorrow. Chapter Four ¡°Perk up, dearest.¡± Nell¡¯s mother deposited a glass of champagne into her hand. ¡°I don¡¯t know what has caused those unsightly circles beneath your eyes, but you had best compensate for them immediately, for heaven¡¯s sake. You are far too pretty to mope about.¡± You always know just what to say, Mother. Standing beneath the foyer archway in the family receiving line, Nell looked wearily down at her glass. The raspberry garnish bobbed inside a bath of rising bubbles, the flowery fragrance making her stomach churn. That extra mug of beer had seemed like a fine idea last night. Oh well¡ªthe trip to Sandman had been worth a day of suffering. Safe inside those brick walls among friendly company, dim gaslight, and her favorite band, all troubles melted away. Nell put on her best face and greeted the entering guests. Colonel Downs in his crisp evening suit adorned with medals, and his son Robert, a dashing Lieutenant. A French ornithologist, in town to exhibit his private collection of stuffed birds at the museum. Papa''s political colleagues from City Hall with their wives and children of various ages. The flow of people seemed to go on forever. Eventually, Mr. Talbot arrived. He¡¯d been old friend of Arthur¡¯s and had set his sights on Nell before her husband lay cold in the ground. The imperious man used every occasion as an excuse to shower her foyer with gifts, from Washington¡¯s birthday to the strictly Nebraskan holiday of Arbor Day. ¡°Good evening, Eleanora.¡± He took up her gloved hand when he reached her position in the receiving line. ¡°You look radiant as always. I daresay you¡¯re the only redheaded woman I know who can manage wearing pink so well. The roses on your gown match the complexion of your cheeks perfectly.¡± ¡°A high compliment indeed, Mr. Talbot,¡± she said with a routine courtesy. ¡°You flatter me far too much. I do hope you enjoy the party.¡± Edwin¡ªNell¡¯s brother-in-law¡ªwas quick to greet Mr. Talbot next, granting her a reprieve from having to chat with him any longer. Besides, Mr. Talbot was bound to find her at least once tonight and harass her for a dance and a flirtatious conversation. An hour and dozens of guests later, her cheeks burned from smiling, her feet ached from standing, and the untouched glass of champagne in her hand had completely warmed. Everyone had arrived¡­ everyone but John Baldwin. With any luck, he¡¯d changed his mind and taken the first train out of Des Moines this morning. Perhaps he realized how selfish he¡¯d been in coming here. That he didn¡¯t stand a chance with Caroline. Well, she wasn¡¯t about to sit around and wait to find out what he¡¯d decided. When Papa finally deemed it appropriate to leave the foyer, Nell followed closely behind her sisters and into the party room. The glistening decorations that Mother and Margaret had arranged outshone the soir¨¦e of well-dressed partygoers. What Mother lacked in terms of maternal instinct she made up for with extravagance. Silver vases, displaying exquisite bouquets, had been placed on every sparkling surface. Ribbon-filled garlands laced with crystal draped the walls and candelabras, a string sextet played Brahms and Strauss in the corner, and servants milled about with polished beverage trays. The aroma of finger-foods, perfume, citrus, and flowers wafted through the air. Yes, Penelope Hubbard never disappointed when it came to planning parties. Nell still hadn¡¯t found a private moment to ask Caroline about the letters. Now certainly wasn¡¯t the time either, as the entire state fawned over her. Nell halted her steps, watching as Caroline and Margaret approached a cluster of young men¡ªHarold Brown, Warren Fletcher, and Roderick Hatch. Mr. Fletcher stood out the most, with his chiseled jawline, pomaded blond locks, and regal build. But they were all handsome, all wealthy, all seemingly polite. Nell had met them at events before, but now, in the presence of her youngest sister, she could watch their courting behavior unfold. ¡°I¡¯d say that champagne has passed its prime, wouldn¡¯t you?¡± She gasped. Peering over her shoulder, she saw John hovering behind her with a cool smile. Drink in hand and impeccably dressed, he looked at her glass. ¡°Mr. Baldwin.¡± She could barely mask the disappointment in her voice. ¡°You nearly made me scream. How long have you been here?¡± ¡°How long have I been standing behind you, or how long have I been at this party?¡± His chocolate-brown eyes darted around the room with amusement. ¡°I assume it¡¯s the latter.¡± The aloof style in which he spoke grated on her. ¡°Yes, the latter.¡± Retreating a step, he removed his pocket watch and flipped open the case, lips pursing as he read the time. Only now did she notice how his bottom lip was slightly thicker than the top. Had his lips always been so full? ¡°Half an hour, I¡¯d say. Maybe a bit less.¡± ¡°Odd. I didn¡¯t see you arrive.¡± ¡°That is probably because I entered through the service entrance at the back of the house.¡± He returned the watch to his pocket, appearing oddly pleased with himself. ¡°Too many people were milling about the front. I hope you don¡¯t mind that I came in the non-traditional way. It felt more secretive.¡± He winked. ¡°Fun, too.¡± She stared at him, dumbfounded. ¡°Now, as for your champagne, Mrs. Rutledge¡ª¡± ¡°Who told you my formal name?¡± ¡°Your friends, of course. Martha and Sarah Beth. We chatted about you shortly after I arrived¡± ¡ªhe lifted his own flute to his mouth¡ª ¡°holding you in the highest esteem, of course.¡± ¡°I see.¡± Irritation sliced through her. She really must learn to associate with a less gossipy group. ¡°Well you needn¡¯t call me that. Nell will do just fine.¡± ¡°I always thought you went by Nellie?¡± ¡°I did. But lately I¡¯ve preferred Nell.¡± ¡°As you wish.¡± Tilting his head back, he finished off his drink. ¡°Would you care for me to bring you a fresh glass? Though, you seem to have hardly touched that one. Are you not feeling well?¡± ¡°I am quite well, thank you.¡± She placed her flute on a passing tray. ¡°I''ve simply decided not to indulge in any alcohol this evening. I must be in a present state of mind at all times for my sister.¡± ¡°Ah. You play the martyr very well.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± Standing beside him felt awkward. ¡°Eleanora! Oh, Eleanora!¡± Caroline moved away from her male guests, waving her gloved hand above everyone¡¯s heads in a summoning gesture. ¡°Come here a moment, won¡¯t you? Help us settle a debate over word pronunciation!¡± Nell was glad of the interruption. ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse me, Mr. Baldwin.¡± ¡°John,¡± he said with a crooked grin. ¡°Of course.¡± She dipped her head and, with a tight-lipped smile, left to join her sisters. Oh, how strange he was! Entering through the kitchen? Gossiping with her friends? Not that she knew him well enough to differentiate odd from normal behavior. And did he have to look so debonair in his coat and tails? With that voluminous, neatly parted hair? Just as Nell reached her sisters, Mother squeezed between them like birds on a short branch. ¡°Caroline Hubbard, you cannot summon people from across the room,¡± she chided through an overly emphasized smile and several flicks of her fan. Everyone knew Mother had the ears of a hound and the eyes of a falcon. ¡°It is very, very rude. If you wish to speak to your sister, you must go to her quietly and discretely. I have raised you better than this, and I do not want to see that type of behavior again.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Mother.¡± Caroline answered, unaffected by Mother¡¯s criticism. She looked so beautiful in her pearls and frilly ivory gown, while Margaret fussed with the positioning of her sleeves. ¡°What was I thinking? Too caught up in the excitement, I suppose. By the way, everyone is simply fawning over your decorations. Mrs. Clark said this is the most beautiful party she¡¯s attended in years.¡± Caroline took a generous sip of champagne, and then turned to face Nell. ¡°You on the other hand don¡¯t appear to be having much fun at all, dear Nellie. It pains me to see you so sleepy. Maybe you should go upstairs and rest.¡± ¡°I agree.¡± Margaret placed a gentle hand on Nell¡¯s arm. ¡°A small nap works wonders.¡± ¡°I doubt your sister knows the meaning of relaxation anymore,¡± Mother commented under her breath. ¡°Perhaps if she let her nanny tend to the children more often instead of¡­¡± Mother¡¯s words faded into background noise, as Nell noted Caroline¡¯s glossy eyes and the subtle rouge atop her cheeks and nose. ¡°Caro, how many beverages have you consumed thus far?¡± she asked. ¡°More than enough for any young lady, that¡¯s for certain.¡± Mother plucked Caroline¡¯s glass from her hand with a condescending glance. ¡°From now on it is only water for you, my dear.¡± As she floated away, Caroline wrinkled her nose in defeat. ¡°Nellie is that¡ª¡± Margaret squeezed Nell¡¯s forearm, her brown eyes agape. ¡°Is that John Baldwin standing over there?¡± Nell turned. John was mingling amidst a cluster of guests, shooting his mouth off as if he were the best friend to all of them. The men nodded, and the women swooned with their fans. One gentleman even clinked his glass to John¡¯s while everyone else laughed. A first-class charmer, seemingly more than his brother. But charm, as Nell had learned, masked many flaws. ¡°John Baldwin?¡± Caroline stood on her toes and spotted him. ¡°Oh, he came! How sweet of him! I simply must say hello. Perhaps he will fetch me another glass. Watch out for Mother, will you?¡± She bounded off toward the group. ¡°Caro...¡± Nell reached for her but retracted. She wanted to be as invisible as possible tonight; to spy, not hinder, and because she felt simply exhausted. Thankfully, the portly Mrs. Fredricks stepped into Caroline¡¯s path, stealing her away with a conversation. Her sister¡¯s plans had been curbed for now. "She never listens to reason, and I doubt she will start now,¡± said Margaret. She opened her lace-trimmed fan and peered over it across the room. ¡°But why is John Baldwin here, Nellie? Who on earth invited him?¡± ¡°Mother, I suppose,¡± Nell fibbed. ¡°Did you know he was on the list?¡± Nell shook her head. Margaret preyed on gossip. If she knew Caroline had shared letters with John, she wouldn¡¯t shut up about it all week. With a cordial smile, Nell acknowledged a couple passing party guests. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if Mother invited the entire Baldwin family and everyone else we know in New York.¡± ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right.¡± Margaret''s gaze darted to Caroline, her thin, perfectly manicured brows knitting together. ¡°The nerve of that man, daring to show his face after ruining your engagement to Teddy. If only Mother knew how he and Caroline had been cavorting this past summer.¡± ¡°You know about that?¡± Nell asked in astonishment. ¡°Of course. And how he proposed to her.¡± ¡°Proposed?¡± ¡°She turned him down, of course.¡± Margaret¡¯s expression grew curious. ¡°I was sure she would have said something to you. Though they aren¡¯t engaged, I still worry about their friendship. Do you know what that man¡¯s reputation is like these days?¡± Nell felt the color drain from her face. She swallowed past the knot in her throat, her nerves threatening to jump out of her skin like fireworks. John had failed to mention the small detail of a proposal during their visit yesterday. Why hadn¡¯t Caroline said anything to her? ¡°I do not,¡± Nell whispered. ¡°Please educate me.¡± Margaret sipped her champagne and leaned in sideways, the way she always did when she had a juicy piece of gossip to share. ¡°You remember my best school friend, Gertrude Bushwick?¡± Nell nodded, suddenly wishing she had a drink in hand. ¡°Well, she and I share a monthly correspondence. She tells me all about her life and the happenings in Westchester.¡± Leaning closer, she lowered her voice even more. ¡°Anyway, Gertie says that John has become somewhat of a cad in his twenties. Why, just last spring he was seen with at least five different women in public¡ª All of them far below his station and looking less than reputable. He flits about town, attending parties and clubs until four o¡¯clock in the morning and doing anything he pleases. I won¡¯t even mention the several scandalous trips he used to take to Chicago. They say the man is frivolous¡­ he has no ambition nor discipline. He is an advocate of pleasure, and the only reason he would pursue a proper wife would be if he had to. Apparently, his father has threatened to cut him off.¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. As usual, Margaret¡¯s words were a mile-a-minute. Heat ran up Nell¡¯s sternum and settled in her throat. A relentless devil indeed! So, he needed a wife to keep the funds flowing. And Caroline was the innocent target! But why had Caroline kept everything from her? Dear God, could she still hold some sort of interest in the man? Or, did she truly invite him out of friendship, or pity after rejecting him? It didn¡¯t matter. John¡¯s intentions were clear, and Nell could no longer hold her tongue. The more she watched him¡ªwatched him basking confidently in her parent¡¯s house, infecting everyone he met with his charm¡ªthe more spite she felt. He had to go. * * * Warren Fletcher sipped from his wineglass, puffing his chest like a peacock among a gobble of turkeys. ¡°So, you have known Miss Hubbard since she was born? I give you credit, Baldwin. I doubt I could find romantic interest in someone I remembered as once having ribbons in her hair, playing with rocking horses and dolls.¡± John raised an eyebrow at his tawny-haired adversary, who stood a few inches taller than him. He¡¯d chosen to establish himself immediately by setting down some roots¡ªand it had worked. For all Fletcher knew, John and Caroline¡¯s families shared every summer, Easter Sunday, and Christmas dinner together in New York. ¡°Really?¡± John countered, swirling his glass of merlot. ¡°In that case, you must only be interested in much older women, sir. For even a lady your exact age would have worn knee-length skirts in your presence at one time or another.¡± Roderick Hatch, the shortest and stockiest in the group, cringed in jest. ¡°Perhaps Mister Fletcher simply wishes to imagine all his conquests born as adults.¡± ¡°No,¡± added James Ackert, a dark, curly-haired fellow, and the eldest in their circle by eight years or so. ¡°I¡¯d wager the women he grew up with simply never took interest in him.¡± Hatch chuckled, raising his glass. ¡°Hear, hear. A toast to Mister Fletcher, the biggest competition in the room.¡± Everyone but Fletcher laughed and joined the toast. ¡°Good evening, gentlemen.¡± John turned to find Caroline standing at his shoulder, her silky cheeks dimpled by a vibrant smile. The three other men straightened and their eyes lit. She looked so angelic in her white taffeta gown and long satin gloves. Her sunny hair had been looped into attractive piles atop her crown, with tiny corkscrew curls draping across her forehead in layers. A delicate string of pearls rested at the base of her neck. ¡°Mister Baldwin.¡± She smiled with genuine vibrancy, offering her hand. ¡°It is so wonderful to finally see you here in Des Moines. I¡¯m delighted you could make it.¡± Pride swelled within him as she curtseyed, but before he could respond with a greeting, she addressed the rest of the group. ¡°Mister Hatch, Mister Fletcher, Mister Ackert, it is always a pleasure. Thank you all for coming.¡± ¡°I daresay the pleasure is all ours, Miss Hubbard,¡± Hatch answered with enthusiasm. She giggled flirtatiously, like a seasoned actress. ¡°I was wondering if I might ask a favor. I seem to have misplaced my drink. Would one of you gentlemen mind fetching me a new glass? I¡¯d be ever so gratef¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯d be happy to,¡± Fletcher offered. ¡°Please, allow me.¡± John stepped in front of him. ¡°Mine is nearly empty anyway. I was just about to go off in search of a beverage tray.¡± Her smile broadened. ¡°How very kind of you, Mr. Baldwin. Thank you.¡± ¡°You¡¯re most welcome.¡± John shot a smug glance at Fletcher. Smoke practically emitted from the handsome Midwesterner¡¯s ears. Good. Turning blindly, John collided straight into Nell. The deep burgundy liquid in his glass almost spilled over her. With his free hand, he reached out and grasped her bare shoulder in reflex. Her azure eyes flashed with shock and, for a moment, it appeared she might slap him. ¡°My apologies.¡± He dropped his hand before her disapproving stare. She checked her blush-colored gown. ¡°No harm done, thankfully.¡± Her silky tone was cordial yet edged with steel. ¡°Mr. Baldwin. Just the man I was looking for. Do you mind if I borrow you for a moment?¡± His eyes darted from Nell to Caroline, and then to the men surrounding her. He smothered a curse, meeting Fletcher¡¯s icy, triumphant gaze straight on. It seemed Iowa won this battle. When he returned his attention to Nell, she brazenly latched onto his eyes, stubborn and unmoving. Frustration rippled through him. In a low, composed voice, he replied, ¡°Of course,¡± and then offered his arm. Hesitantly, as if his jacket were made of poison, she clutched him. His muscles tensed beneath her hand. He could feel the hostility seething from her¡ªthe awkwardness growing with each step they took away from the party. Christ, had she somehow seen him behind the crates last night? Was she going to accuse him of spying? Maneuvering through clusters of guests, Nell guided him toward the open patio doors. The sun set only moments earlier; glowing pinks and deep purples painted the twilight sky, and fireflies twinkled about like stars dancing in the lawn. They stepped rigidly out into the cool air. John downed the remainder of his wine and placed the glass on a passing servant¡¯s tray. If only he had something stronger on hand. Might as well get it over with. ¡°What is it you wish to speak to me about?¡± ¡°I shall tell you in a moment,¡± she answered in a tight voice. Glancing around, she led him to a circular iron bench wrapped around the trunk of a tree, isolated from the other guests. ¡°I apologize if you found me rude for pulling you away, but something has been weighing on my conscience.¡± She gestured to the bench. ¡°Please, take a seat.¡± Without a word, John sat. As she lowered beside him, his nose caught a bit of her scent. She smelled feminine and sweet, like lilies and rosewater. ¡°I cannot tell you what a surprise it was seeing you after so many years. I¡¯m glad your brother is well, and I don¡¯t doubt that you have a promising future in whatever field you pursue. Unfortunately, that future cannot continue here. I¡¯m afraid¡­ I must ask you to leave.¡± He drew his lips inward. He knew she''d been lying yesterday when she''d played nice in the parlor, but he¡¯d hoped things would grow more civilized with time. ¡°I must protect Caroline, you understand,¡± she continued, folding her hands in her lap like a stuffy schoolteacher. ¡°My sister is a very pretty girl, but she is so much more than a pawn or a prize. She is beyond important to me, and she must be treated with the utmost respect. I am sure you have admirable intentions for her now, but I have good reason to believe that this match might compromise her future happiness and¡ª¡± John held up a raised palm. This woman had always been a thorn in his side, and yet he forced himself act the gentleman. Not this time. ¡°Please. I know it¡¯s been several years, but can we dispose of the proper talk? ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t like me.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I know that. Why not call things as they are?¡± Her eyes grew large and her back became ramrod straight. He slouched a little, just to annoy her. They exchanged a long, bitter look. Then, his gaze slipped to her exposed collarbone. Pale like peach-tinted cream, it looked even softer and more delicate than he remembered. And those damned breasts, swelling tastefully out of her scooped neckline. Why couldn¡¯t this woman have turned into a haggard old witch over the last decade? ¡°Fine. You cannot marry my sister,¡± she said, cold and exact. Ah yes, a witch on the inside. So, she hadn¡¯t seen him last night¡ªthis was still about old grudges and Teddy. He rolled his eyes. ¡°You¡¯re being childish.¡± ¡°Am I?¡± Her brow furrowed in regal disdain. ¡°I know your father has threatened to cut you off. Caroline is the simple choice, isn¡¯t she? Not only is she close to you, but she is probably the purest woman you know. Well, her heart will not be used for your own financial gain. You will not take her innocence, only to toss her aside every time you become bored with her. I¡¯ve learned all about your extensive reputation with women. I will not let my sister¡¯s blossoming life be sullied by a lazy, spoiled, selfish, materialistic, immature, pig-headed¡ª¡± ¡°You¡¯ve made your point.¡± ¡°I am not finished.¡± The teardrop pearls dangling from her earlobes swayed as she glanced around for bystanders. ¡°You are also pretentious, promiscuous, and completely insensitive.¡± ¡°Insensitive?¡± ¡°The nerve you must have to keep in touch with my sister of all people,¡± she hissed, lowering her head as well as her voice. ¡°Your brother was the first man I¡¯d ever loved. When our family left New York, he wrote me every day, assuring me nothing would change and that he would propose before the year was through. Do you know how shattered I was when they gradually stopped coming? When I received that final, gut-wrenching note from you on his behalf? Can you imagine for a second what that heartbreak felt like?¡± He hesitated, willing himself not to look at those heavenly breasts again. ¡°For pity¡¯s sake you are punishing me for something I did when I was a boy.¡± ¡°Seventeen is hardly a boy.¡± Her expression remained cordial for public eyes, yet her words dripped with venom. ¡°You thought I was wrong for your brother. I know you are completely wrong for my sister. What¡¯s the difference?¡± He leaned against the cold metal back of the bench. ¡°I wonder¡­ how do you fit all those snakes under that tight auburn wig of yours?¡± A flash of fury crossed her face, destroying her composure. Every attractive curve of her body spoke defiance. Hell, he¡¯d never been so drawn to her. How could someone be as alluring as they were off-putting? But he would not let her win. They stared at one another across a long, ringing silence. ¡°You will leave tomorrow morning,¡± she demanded, spacing the words evenly, ¡°and never speak to my sister again.¡± Folding his arms, he gazed at her smugly. ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± ¡°Oh, yes, you will.¡± Her dainty nostrils flared. ¡°You will, or I¡¯ll have my father throw you out. Just wait until he and my mother find out that you¡¯re here¡ªthat you spent the entire summer courting Caroline. That you¡¯ve been writing to her these past ten years. You have scandal written all over you. They will be outraged.¡± So, the little minx wanted to make threats, did she? Two could play at that game. ¡°Not nearly as outraged as they¡¯ll be after learning that their eldest daughter sneaks off to working class dance clubs in the late hours of the evening.¡± She shot him a penetrating glance. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± ¡°I saw you last night. You strolled out of some basement door behind the buildings on Wooster Street with your maid. You were drunk, and you wanted to take off your shoes.¡± ¡°Ah, there she is!¡± Mayor Hubbard exclaimed, approaching with a tiny, sniffling girl in his arms. Nell¡¯s eyes sunk, deep with panic. ¡°Please don¡¯t¡­¡± she whispered with a shaky voice. Rising fluidly, she straightened her shoulders and cleared her throat. Her once rosy complexion had paled into that of a ghost¡¯s; her expression resembled someone who¡¯d received the death penalty. She looked so terrified, so vulnerable, so unlike her. A stab of guilt assailed John as he stood. He despised blackmail more than anything, but he had no choice. She¡¯d been the one to threaten him first. She would not make a fool of him. He wouldn¡¯t be destitute. He wasn¡¯t going home without Caroline on his arm. Nell¡¯s stout, balding father approached, oblivious to their discussion. ¡°Gracie here took a bit of a tumble on the veranda steps. She said she wouldn¡¯t stop crying until we found you.¡± ¡°Mama!¡± The little girl sobbed, ribbons of tears rolling down her round, dimpled cheeks. In a flash, Nell appeared to shift from cornered mouse to concerned mother bear. ¡°Oh, my little button. I¡¯m so sorry you fell down. Where does it hurt?¡± The little girl pouted and pointed to her red knee. ¡°Oh yes, I see that now,¡± Nell coed, examining the bump. ¡°Just a little scrape. I shall give it a kiss and make it all better.¡± Ever so gingerly, she pressed her lips to the child¡¯s knee. Then, she brushed her thumbs gently beneath the little one¡¯s wet eyes, drying her face. ¡°There we are, no more tears. How does that feel?¡± The girl sniffled, removing her wet thumb from her mouth. ¡°Better.¡± ¡°Mother¡¯s kisses are magic, aren¡¯t they?¡± Hubbard said, shifting the child¡¯s weight on his hip. John held his breath as the older man observed him. ¡°May Grandfather bring you back to Luther and Johanna, so your mother can continue her conversation with this nice young fellow here?¡± She reached for Nell, her eyes welling with more tears. ¡°No. I want Mama.¡± ¡°It¡¯s all right. She can stay with me for a little while.¡± Nell held out her arms. ¡°Very well.¡± He passed the toddler to her. ¡°Just don¡¯t let your mother see you coddling her, Eleanora. You know how she gets. She will never understand your modern methods of child-rearing, and she blames your countless exhaustion for it.¡± Turning to John, he extended a hand. ¡°I don¡¯t believe we¡¯ve met before. Walter Hubbard.¡± Shit. John clasped the man¡¯s plump hand and shook it. ¡°John Baldwin. It¡¯s a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Hubbard. And congratulations on your mayorship, sir.¡± ¡°John Baldwin?¡± The older man jerked his head back. ¡°As in young Johnny Baldwin from New York? By Jove, I hardly recognize you!¡± His jowls rippled as he laughed. ¡°You¡¯ve grown into quite the man, son. It is so good to see you. Is your father here too?¡± ¡°It¡¯s just me, I¡¯m afraid.¡± John stole a glance at Nell, bracing himself for an interruption. Two deep lines of worry lay between her brows. He¡¯d been so intent on blackmailing her, but with a small child present¡ªan adorable, crying toddler with a scraped knee¡ªcould he summon the gall to do it? ¡°I invited John,¡± Nell said, stepping forward. Good Lord. Relief spread through him, despite Hubbard¡¯s outward look of shock. ¡°You?¡± the man arched a bushy eyebrow. ¡°After all that mess with Theodore long ago?¡± Damn, but the old man was blunt. So nonchalant about his daughter¡¯s humiliation. John felt bad for her, but he quickly realized Nell could hold her own. ¡°That was years ago, Papa,¡± she said with a false, cordial smile. ¡°Besides, it wasn¡¯t John¡¯s fault. It would be uncouth of me to hold him accountable for his brother¡¯s actions.¡± She glanced at John, just long enough for him to see the daggers before addressing her father again. ¡°We¡¯ve remained in correspondence from time to time. I wrote to him a few weeks ago asking him to come to Caroline¡¯s party. I thought it would be nice to see one another in person again.¡± The mayor smiled. ¡°A marvelous idea. You and your sisters were certainly fond of the Baldwin brothers growing up.¡± He clapped a swollen hand onto John¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I couldn¡¯t be happier that you¡¯re here, son. Welcome to our wonderful town of Des Moines. I hope you don¡¯t mind a three-year-old joining the remainder of your conversation.¡± He patted his granddaughter¡¯s blonde head. ¡°I will see you later, dearest angel.¡± ¡°Bye, Gamfather!¡± said the little girl, wrapping her arms around her mother¡¯s neck. Once Mayor Hubbard had left, Nell sighed. ¡°This is my daughter Grace.¡± John couldn¡¯t help but grin at the child. Between Teddy and Lottie¡¯s four children, he had plenty of experience in talking to little ones. He stepped forward on bent knees, lowering his face to her level. ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, miss Grace. My, that¡¯s a pretty blue dress you¡¯re wearing. Can you name any other things that are blue?¡± Sucking a stubby finger, Grace shook her head. ¡°I like purple.¡± ¡°Oh, I see. Purple is a wonderful color too, isn¡¯t it? The color of grapes, and plums, and royalty. It¡¯s also the very last color in a rainbow, which means it¡¯s the most important.¡± Grace giggled, burying her face in the crook of her mother¡¯s creamy neck. ¡°Thank you,¡± Nell¡¯s voice was a broken whisper, ¡°for not saying anything.¡± John straightened, grasping at whatever false authority remained inside. ¡°Your father doesn¡¯t know I convinced my brother to end your courtship?¡± She shook her head. ¡°I never told my parents the truth.¡± That was a surprise. He cleared his throat, reaching around to grasp the back of his neck. ¡°I¡­ assume we have an understanding then? You say nothing, I say nothing.¡± She nodded, her expression tired with defeat. ¡°Yes.¡± Why did he suddenly feel horrible? Was it the genuine fear in her eyes? Was it witnessing that ounce of humanity she showed towards her daughter? Whatever the reason, he needed to stop. Nell¡¯s feelings couldn¡¯t get under his skin¡ªnot if he wanted any chance of saving his inheritance. Caroline made him happy. Money made him happy. This was his game. He would remain strong, unaffected, and in charge. Coyly, Grace lifted her head. She smiled at him with big blue eyes, as Nell nuzzled her cheek. ¡°Mama, John said purple is the most important rainbow color.¡± John¡¯s heart melted. Damn.