Line by Line

by Jennifer Delamere

  That was abridging a lot. Archie was annoying, but Douglas aroused so many kinds of feelings that Alice couldn’t catalog them all. That was quite a few steps beyond mere distraction. The worst part was that she missed the way things were before that kiss. She had enjoyed the friendly warmth between them and how easy and pleasant it had been to work together. Would they ever be able to get back to that? Would her own heart allow it? Did she even want to, now that she’d seen Douglas’s more unscrupulous side—that he was willing to marry someone purely for material gain?

  Emma’s eyes widened. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the spinster book, would it? I remember Rose suggesting you try it at work.”

  “Yes, that’s part of the problem. You might say it worked too well.”

  “Interesting.” Emma tapped a finger against her cheek. “Will you loan me that book sometime?”

  “After all the trouble it’s gotten me into?” Alice said, aghast.

  “Of course! It’s clearly potent.”

  “Potent?” Alice arched a brow. “Like bombs or dynamite?”

  “I expect the key is learning the best ways to apply what’s in there,” Emma replied, undaunted. She gave Alice’s hand a reassuring pat. “Whatever you may have unleashed at Henley and Company, I’m sure you can handle it. You’re the best at what you do. Keep taking the high road, and you will be successful there.”

  Alice gave her friend a grateful smile. “I do feel better for having talked about it. May I ask for an additional favor? Please don’t tell Rose about this. She already distrusts men, and this will only lower her opinion of them even more.”

  Emma crossed her arms and smirked. “With all that has happened, you are concerned about not increasing anyone’s anger toward men?”

  Alice knew she was teasing, but it was an interesting point. “The situation is frustrating, to be sure. Yet I can’t say I’m not at least partially to blame. Besides, men don’t have a monopoly on doing bad things to people.”

  “You are certainly correct about that,” Emma agreed. “I work among hundreds of women, so I should know. Oh!” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a small watch, and flipped open the cover. “I’ve got to hurry back or I’ll be late, and then my supervisor will be impossible. Her scoldings sting worse than lye soap.” As they rose from the bench, Emma added, “I hope you’re feeling a little better, at least.”

  “I am.” Alice meant it. Her heart was still bruised, but her burden was lightened.

  Emma flashed another gentle smile and hurried off.

  There wasn’t much time left to Alice’s lunch break either, given that she still had to walk back to the office. She looked around the park one last time, watching the telegraph workers coming or going from their breaks. Despite the difficulties, she was still glad she’d left the CTO to work at Henley and Company. All she had to do was concentrate on her work and not allow any personal issues to interfere, and she would be fine. She left the park and hurried down the street.

  She turned the corner onto Leadenhall Street five minutes late. Given that Archie would be glaring at her no matter what, she didn’t care. She would continue to face him down and stand up for herself.

  As she approached her workplace, she hesitated when she noticed Douglas standing in the narrow pedestrian lane next to it, smoking a cigarette. If there had been any way to enter the building without directly passing him, she would have been tempted to do so. However, there was not.

  The sight of him still did odd things to the rhythm of her heartbeat. She supposed she might as well get used to ignoring it. There seemed to be nothing else she could do.

  Douglas crushed his cigarette and came over to her. “May I talk with you for a moment before you go in?”

  Alice nodded, not wanting to speak before she heard what he had to say.

  “I wish to apologize again for all the misunderstandings last Saturday and for the hurtful things I said this morning. Please know that I have nothing but the highest respect for you as a person and a fellow colleague.” He paused, waiting for her reaction, looking worried she might not accept his apology.

  In truth, Alice was gratified to hear his words. Douglas was as concerned as she was about keeping things genial between them at work. Despite how it might feel at times, they were both after the same thing.

  She took in a breath. “You’re right. I believe that, as mature, sensible adults, there is no reason we can’t continue working together as productively as we did before we—er, before Saturday.”

  His relieved smile almost made her want to take back her words, because whenever he looked at her like that, she hardly felt able to function. She had to look away in order to keep her thoughts coherent.

  “There is one other thing,” Douglas added. “Mr. Henley has told me time and again how impressed he is by your work. I have repeatedly confirmed to him that he is correct to have such confidence in you. And as for Mr. Clapper, I’ve told him in no uncertain terms that he is not to spread malicious gossip of any kind, or he will absolutely find himself out of a job. I will not have anyone maligning your good name.”

  “Thank you,” Alice said. His concern for her reputation raised him even higher in her estimation. He might have some goals in life she could not understand or agree with, but he was not a ruthless cad. At least, not toward her. But what about toward wealthy debutantes? “May I assume you extend such gentlemanly courtesy to all women of your acquaintance?”

  It took him a moment to understand the meaning behind her words. Alice knew when he made the connection because his brow furrowed. Maybe he didn’t like being called out as a fortune hunter. Maybe he was simply angry that Alice should revisit personal matters when they’d just agreed to keep things businesslike. That anger would be justified. Why had she brought it up? She could only blame her addled thoughts.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “Please disregard that question. It truly is none of my business. Thank you for your kind words just now. I should get back to work—”

  “No, wait.” His words stopped her as she was turning away.

  Alice stilled, feeling foolish and wishing she had left matters where they were.

  “I strive to be honest in all my dealings, Miss McNeil.” He spoke with quiet earnestness. “I make no apology for being an ambitious man, but I would never use anyone merely to get ahead. I would never marry unless there was genuine affection between me and my bride. I hope you can believe that.”

  Alice looked into his eyes, seeking evidence that he was telling the truth. What she saw was a hint of vulnerability, as though he had shared a small piece of his soul. Heaven help her, it still made her breathless to look at him. No, she was not in love, she hastened to assure herself, but she genuinely liked this man very much. “I believe you have always been honest with me, Mr. Shaw. I have no reason to think you would treat others any differently.”

  His face broadened in a smile, and he visibly relaxed. “I can’t tell you what it means to hear you say that.”

  If Alice allowed herself to be ruled by emotions, she would have said this moment made her very happy. Since she didn’t, she would merely acknowledge that she and Douglas had reached an equitable middle ground, and she was going to endeavor to keep it that way.

  “Speaking of work,” Alice said, “I’d better get back to it.”

  This time he didn’t stop her, although he gave her another smile that warmed her insides so intensely, she might have melted right there on the sidewalk. She hurried inside, fanning herself as she sat down at her desk. She cared not one whit that Archie berated her for being late. In fact, she hardly noticed.

  CHAPTER

  Twenty-One

  You can do this.

  Douglas kept repeating the words to himself as the hansom cab approached the mansion where the ball was being held. It had been easier when he’d first gotten into the cab and pulled away from his boardinghouse on the other side of London. Now, as they joined the slow line of carriages on the drive, Do
uglas found his confidence waning.

  Each vehicle paused at the main entrance while men in fine suits and silk hats alighted and then handed down bejeweled ladies in sumptuous gowns. Douglas watched them closely, aware they’d been born and raised to this well-heeled life. How to act and what to say at such events came as naturally to them as breathing. The dinner party at Mr. Rolland’s home was nothing compared to this. Douglas knew he wasn’t going to be accepted into this world simply because one of its daughters enjoyed flirting with him. There would be so many things to remember tonight and pitfalls to avoid. He had no qualms about facing any of them—except for the dancing.

  He had been practicing every day, pairing the steps with the telegraphy trick he’d learned from Alice. He had not said anything about it to her, though. In fact, they had both spent the past week carefully avoiding mention of anything outside of work. Douglas had to admit it was probably for the best. Things at the office seemed to have returned more or less to normal. Clapper was still Clapper, but he had confined himself to his usual grumblings and not stepped over the line Douglas had drawn.

  Alice was still Alice, too. He loved her energy and diligence more every day. He was sorry only that she was obviously keeping a careful distance from him. He wished he could have talked to her in preparation for this evening. He wished even more heartily that he could have danced with her again. But that was the line over which he could not go.

  So he had done his best to prepare on his own. Now that he thought of everything else he’d have to do correctly in addition to the dancing, he wished he’d stuck with his original plan of limping in with an unfortunate “injury.” But he had promised Miss Rolland a dance tonight, and he would do it. His sense of honor kept him from ordering the cab driver to turn around.

  Honor.

  Douglas gave a little grunt. He was honor bound to all sorts of things now. Alice had effectively asked him if he was the kind of man who would marry solely for money. He had insisted he wasn’t, and she’d believed him. The truth was, until that point he hadn’t thought about it all that deeply. He had figured he’d marry Miss Rolland if he found nothing objectionable in her and if she would have him. The idea of love hadn’t entered his mind. When cornered by Alice’s question, he couldn’t even say the word. Affection was the best he could come up with. Now he found himself hoping he could garner a real affection for Miss Rolland just so he would not have lied to the woman he truly did care for. This ridiculous paradox was so unsettling that Douglas knew he must put it out of his mind if he was going to make a good showing tonight.

  The cab came to a stop. Douglas got out, paid the driver, and entered the fray.

  Once he was inside the ballroom, it took a few minutes to locate Henley. Douglas finally spotted him standing with his wife and another couple in a small grove formed by six potted trees. Mrs. Henley was chatting with the other lady as they surveyed the crowded ballroom. They were probably gossiping about the other attendees. Or perhaps critiquing the ladies’ dresses. Meanwhile, their husbands pretended not to look bored.

  Henley brightened when he saw Douglas. “Did you just arrive? You’ll have to hurry if you want a chance at Miss Rolland’s dance card. There’s a rumor it fills up quickly.”

  “A rumor put forth by the lady herself, I’ll wager,” joked the other man.

  Henley introduced him as Mr. Warner. Douglas recognized the name. Warner owned several successful factories located just to the east of London.

  “I’ve heard from Henley that you’re a valuable asset to your company,” Warner said, shaking Douglas’s hand. “I’d give my eyeteeth to find someone who can combine ambition with a genuine talent for business. Most men I’ve worked with have too much of the first quality and surprisingly little of the other.”

  “I’m glad to hear Mr. Henley speaks highly of me,” Douglas answered. “I won’t deny that I work hard to earn his good opinion.”

  Warner gave him a pleased smile. “I admire a man who manages to sound self-effacing while still acknowledging his high worth.”

  “Don’t get any ideas about stealing him from me,” Henley said to Warner.

  Warner held up his hands. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” But the glint in his eye said he wouldn’t mind trying.

  It was mere jesting, but Mrs. Henley gave Douglas a look as if he’d just said he planned to abandon the company tomorrow. “You’d better go track down your prospect,” she reminded him. “You don’t want to miss your chance with Miss Rolland.”

  Mrs. Henley didn’t seem to realize that she and Douglas were on the same side—they both wanted success for her husband’s business. Why did she persist in treating him like the enemy? It was as though she feared he would fail the company in some way. It was true that, with money and society bound as closely as they were, there was a lot riding on Douglas’s successful courting of Miss Rolland. Had Clapper been talking with Mrs. Henley, poisoning her mind with ugly gossip about Alice? If he ever had proof of that, Douglas didn’t think he’d be able to restrain himself from doing Clapper bodily harm.

  Tonight, however, he could do little besides act as though he and Mrs. Henley were on the best of terms. “Right you are, madam. Do you by chance know how I might locate Miss Rolland among all these people?”

  “I believe she’s holding court near the mirrors along that far wall,” Mr. Warner put in.

  Douglas excused himself and headed in the direction Warner had indicated. As he threaded his way through the crowd, he could feel the gazes of Mrs. Henley and Mrs. Warner on him, tracking his progress. Perhaps they were discussing his chances of success with Miss Rolland. It was a nice irony, albeit one Mrs. Henley would never be aware of, that his odds were better tonight because of the help he’d gotten from Alice.

  Douglas reminded himself yet again that he must set aside all thoughts of Alice. He was here to court another young lady. This plan had been in place long before he’d met Alice. He must remain committed to it.

  It was marginally easier to pull his thoughts into line when he finally laid eyes on Miss Rolland. She looked quite fetching. As usual, she’d made the most of her assets, from a flattering hairstyle to a gown that was just the right shade for her complexion.

  You see, this is not so difficult. She is attractive, and she is attracted to you. Her father is Henley’s friend and an important business associate. Everybody wins. He repeated this to himself several times as he approached her.

  She was talking with three other young ladies, coyly pretending not to notice his approach until he stood right next to her. He gave her a bow. “Good evening, Miss Rolland. I hope I may intrude upon your notice for a moment?”

  She turned toward him, eyes wide in a show of surprise. “Mr. Shaw, how lovely to see you again!”

  “How are you getting on with your butterfly collecting?”

  She opened her fan with a playful snap and viewed him over the top of it. “I have no new specimens to speak of. But I hope to collect one very soon.”

  “I have every confidence in your success,” he said with a wink.

  The other ladies tittered with delight. Miss Rolland introduced him to Miss Travers, Miss Lawson, and Miss Brenner. Given the way Miss Rolland presented him with a certain flourish and a nod to her friends, he could almost hear an undertone of “This is the man I was telling you about!” They looked him over with warm appreciation.

  “But you mustn’t ask them to dance,” Miss Rolland told him, punctuating this order by poking him lightly with her fan. “Their cards are already full.”

  The way Miss Brenner’s eyebrow lifted signaled that perhaps Miss Rolland wasn’t being exactly truthful about that.

  “Please tell me you’ve reserved at least one dance for me,” Douglas said, mustering all the fervor he could at the idea of dancing.

  Miss Rolland studied her card as though she didn’t already know precisely what was on it. “Why yes, it seems there is still one opening. It’s for a waltz.”

  Douglas breathed an
inward sigh of relief. If it had been any of the other dances, such as the quadrille with its intricate patterns, his ship would have sunk before it even left port. “Perfect.”

  He watched as she wrote his name in the spot she had indicated. From his viewpoint, the writing was upside down, yet he easily discerned that several of the other slots were filled by Busfield. Interestingly, it made him think of Archie Clapper’s remark about a woman playing two men against each other as rivals. Miss Rolland was the kind of woman who would do that. Not Alice.

  “You arrived just in time, Mr. Shaw,” Miss Rolland informed him. “The dancing is about to begin. It opens with a grand march. Who will be your partner for that—if I may be so bold as to ask?” She looked at him with wide eyes that held a hint of teasing.

  Her question took him by surprise. He looked at her friends, but they gave him disappointed smiles, indicating they were already taken.

  A great musical flourish sounded. This signal unleashed a buzz of activity across the ballroom. Gentlemen began circulating through the room to find their partners. It wasn’t long before Miss Rolland’s friends had all been whisked away—but not before each one had given her prettiest smile to Douglas.

  Busfield walked up and, with only a cursory greeting to Douglas, offered his arm to Miss Rolland. She laid one hand on his arm and gave Douglas a little wave with the other. “Remember, it’s the waltz after the second lancers!”

  As he led her away, Busfield spared Douglas a sneering glance, as though he’d bested him somehow.

  “Enjoy it while you can,” Douglas said under his breath once they were gone. He smiled to himself. This was all just another form of negotiation, and he was an expert at that. If he thought of it that way, his natural competitive instincts took over and increased his enjoyment of it all.

  For the moment, he was in a situation that he ought to have anticipated. He felt he should make an appearance at this opening march. There were no steps to worry about; one simply escorted a lady around, following the leader. However, he’d have to be suitably introduced to any young lady before he could ask her to dance. He certainly did not want to inadvertently cause a scandal by committing a crime against proper etiquette. That would be worse than not dancing at all.