by Joanna Shupe
Sighing, she closed her eyes. “I’ve never been at the center of a scandal before. It feels awful, like I’ve disappointed everyone.” Lockwood, her parents, her friends . . . the guilt was threatening to crush her at the moment. “I wish I’d let you hide the papers from me.”
“I’ll always try to spare you any pain, if possible.”
She stared at the cold hearth, the unfairness of their world pressing down on her. “Men never suffer for their indiscretions. Society looks the other way, allowing them their mistresses and chorus girls. You are barely mentioned in that column and Lockwood is the poor man caught up in my schemes. I, on the other hand, am the jezebel. None of my friends will speak to me for a long time, let alone invite me anywhere, after this.”
He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her. “I’m sorry, Mads. I don’t know what else to say.”
“Why did you stay away so long?” If he’d come home sooner, then all of this might have been avoided.
“Because I wanted you too much, even when I thought there was no chance. It tore my heart out every day. I couldn’t be around you and not have you.”
“Harrison . . .” It was hard to remain upset with him when he confessed like that. “Stop being sweet when I am annoyed with you.”
A slight chuckle ruffled her hair. “I cannot help it. I’ve always hated to see you sad.”
“I hate being sad.”
“Just remember—they will move on in time. Another scandal will take the place of ours. This won’t last long. And it’ll be worth it in the end.”
“It will?”
“Of course. You’ll still be married to me.”
She rolled her eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “You have a healthy opinion of yourself.”
“Hmm. As I recall, you were calling me a god this morning.”
Ignoring that comment, she put a hand on his shoulder and leaned back. “Aren’t you upset about the column, too? They practically labeled you a fortune hunter.”
“They can write whatever they wish, but that doesn’t mean it’s true. Unlike Lockwood, I don’t need your money.”
“Yes, but your mother was going to cut you off if you didn’t marry.”
“Hmm.”
A sinking feeling settled into her chest, below her ribs. Deep into her bones. This wasn’t adding up. What was he withholding from her? “Harrison?”
His chest expanded and fell as he exhaled. “I’m not broke . . . but the Archers are.”
Chapter Nineteen
The words tumbled from Harrison’s mouth but he wouldn’t take them back. He’d intended to tell her the truth after her tennis tournament, but she deserved to know that he wasn’t a fortune hunter. That he’d married her because he wanted her, period.
Maddie stiffened then jumped off his lap to stand in front of him. “Explain.”
“I have my own money.”
“And the other part, about your family?”
He folded his arms across his chest and lifted a shoulder. “They’re broke.”
Her mouth fell open but she quickly recovered, her lips pressing flat. “You lied to me.”
“Well . . .” He could feel the ground tilting, shifting, under his feet in the face of her disapproval. But he’d started this so there was no choice but to finish it. Carefully. “Not entirely. I said my mother had threatened to cut me off if I didn’t marry, but the reality is my father cut me off years ago.”
“Wait.” Closing her eyes, Maddie put her hands together under her chin, as if she were praying. He knew she often did this when struggling for calm. “Start at the very beginning, Harrison.”
So he began talking. He told her of being disinherited and how he’d made his own fortune in Paris. The telegrams from his brother, which had prompted Harrison to hire an investigator into the Archer company finances. Then his efforts to buy up company stock over the next few months.
“You plan to save the company for them?”
“No,” he said. “I plan to take the company from them.”
“You want to buy Archer Industries for yourself.”
“Yes, but I want more than that. I aim to bankrupt them.”
“Your family?” After he nodded, she stumbled to an armchair and dropped heavily into it. “When were you going to tell me all of this?”
He sat forward and reached for her hand, clasping her fingers tightly. “I was not keeping secrets from you. I hoped to spare you from my family’s drama, especially before Nationals. The Archers have caused enough destruction already.”
“Wrong. That explanation is sensible for a petty squabble, not when you are planning to wage war on them. Do you understand the difference?”
“I suppose, though I will try to protect you from any ugliness if it is in my power to do so. Specifically in regard to my family.”
She jerked her hand out of his grip. “By lying to me? There shouldn’t be any secrets between us. We’re married.”
“I am aware.” As if he’d ever forget. “And I didn’t exactly lie.”
“Semantics. I don’t like being surprised like this, feeling as though you are keeping things from me.”
“Maddie, if someone finds out what I am doing, the stock price will be affected.”
She slapped her thighs and stood. “Oh, well. We cannot affect the precious stock price.” Putting her hands on her hips, she looked at him sharply. “Stock prices, bankruptcies, French mistresses . . . Who are you?”
How could she even ask such a question? No one knew him better than Maddie. He rose and took a step toward her. “I am the same man you’ve known since you were ten. Nothing has changed.”
“Not from what I can see. It’s like the kind yet impulsive boy I knew has grown into this other secretive person, one obsessed with revenge and ambition.”
“And you. Don’t forget I am also obsessed with you.”
“That doesn’t make me any less angry about the rest of it.” She paced away a few steps, then faced him. “You’re rich.”
“Very.”
“Yet you led me to believe you still relied on your family’s money.”
“I didn’t think it mattered to you whether I had my own money or not.”
“It doesn’t but I would like the truth. I want a partnership, Harrison, one where we play on the same side. Ours.”
Ours. He liked the sound of that.
And she was wrong. They had a partnership. He was on her side no matter what, indefinitely. Once he bankrupted his family, Maddie would be his first and only priority.
He didn’t want her to doubt it—ever.
Swiftly, he closed the distance between them. She watched him warily but didn’t retreat. When he was within reach, he slipped his hand around the side of her neck, his thumb resting on her jaw. His other hand found her hip as he pressed their foreheads together. “We are partners,” he whispered. “We always have been, since the very first moment I met you. It’s why no one would team up against us in croquet or acting charades. Why I sought you out every time something terrible happened at home. Why I need you by my side until I draw my last breath. It is you and me, Mads. No one else.”
She drew in a shaky breath as her fingers hooked into the waistband of his trousers. “Then act like it. That means not keeping things from me anymore.”
“I won’t. I promise.” He kissed her brow. “Are we done fighting?”
“No.” She kissed his throat, right above his collar. “I am still mad.”
“Shall we go upstairs? I’ll spend the rest of the afternoon apologizing in bed.”
She stepped away and put distance between them. “I won’t settle for a mediocre apology.”
He gave her a smile full of wicked promise. “Who said anything about mediocre?”
“Don’t be cute. Not all of our problems can be solved in bed.”
They couldn’t? “Then where should we solve them?”
“I don’t know, Harrison,” she said, her tone full of exasperation. “But
‘Let’s go upstairs’ is not the answer after you’ve lied to me about almost everything. Do better.” With a heavy sigh, she lifted her skirts and started for the door.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“To get changed. I feel like hitting tennis balls right now and pretending they are your head.”
Ouch. “I could change and play with you.”
She paused on the threshold. “No, thank you. I’d like to be alone.”
“Maddie . . .” Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair. He’d bungled this. One day of marriage and he’d already caused a rift between them. He had to find a way to mend it.
Years of experience had taught him to give her space, yet everything in him fought against that instinct. He wanted the laughter and the easy camaraderie, the way she smiled at him. And yes, he wanted to take her upstairs and pleasure her until she screamed his name.
It would kill him to stay away . . . but he couldn’t chase her. Couldn’t push her into forgiving and forgetting.
He slipped his hands in his trouser pockets, grinding his back teeth together as she disappeared into the house.
“Do better, Harrison,” she called.
He had to find a way to apologize, to make things right, but in a way that meant something to her. Only he had no idea where to begin.
The bell sounded, echoing through the still house and startling Maddie. No one had so much as dropped a card or sent a telegram since the wedding. Had someone come to pay her a visit?
In the past, she would have hurried to the door and greeted the caller herself. Now she paused just inside the library, nervously waiting to hear who was there.
Coward.
It was true. She hardly recognized herself, hiding out in the house and feeling sorry for herself. It was unlike her. Harrison seemed concerned, as well, watching her carefully while they had dinner last night. She was still angry at him for lying, and he hadn’t joined her in bed afterward. A relief really, as she was still sore.
Liar. You weren’t relieved. You were disappointed.
Yes, she had been disappointed. However, she didn’t want to start their marriage off with lies and half-truths. He needed to be honest with her about everything. She didn’t like being caught unawares . . . and it seemed as if Harrison had done nothing but surprise her since returning from Paris.
A familiar voice sounded in the entryway. Hiding place forgotten, Maddie darted toward the front door, beyond relieved to have a friend with whom to talk.
Nellie’s eyes went round when she saw Maddie hurrying toward her. “My, someone is antsy today.”
“I am happy to see you.” She threw her arms around Nellie.
After requesting tea from the kitchen, she led her friend into the sitting room. “How did you know I was in New York?”
“Your husband. He cabled me this morning and asked me to pay you a visit.” Nellie unpinned her hat. “How have you been holding up?”
Maddie blew out a frustrated breath. “Miserable. Please, entertain me.”
Nellie paused in the midst of lowering herself onto the sofa. “May I rest for a moment and perhaps eat a cookie first?”
“Of course. Forgive me.”
“Forgiven. Now, why are you miserable? Aren’t you and Harrison getting along?”
“I suppose.”
Nellie’s brows rose. “You suppose? You’ve been married almost three days. Did you get along on your wedding night? And every night since?”
Ah. She should have known her friend would ask about this. It was Nellie, after all. “Yes, there’s no problem with getting along.”
“Good. I knew Harrison picked up a trick or two in Paris. I’m happy for you, Maddie.”
“I should thank you for what you said before the wedding night. It helped.”
“Good. Women don’t talk about these things often enough. We rely on men to tell us—and you know how informative they can be. There should be some kind of guidebook or something.”
“You should write one,” Maddie suggested. “I would buy it.”
“I’m no writer. I think all that typing would drive me mad, not to mention all the euphemisms I’d be forced to use. Can you imagine? ‘When you lavish attention on his manly pole . . .’”
“‘Be prepared to receive it in your feminine hole.’” They both burst into peals of laughter.
“Terrible. Absolutely terrible. Never take up poetry over lawn tennis.” Nellie’s gaze turned serious. “Though I am glad to see you smile.”
“It’s been rough.”
“Why? I thought you said you and Harrison were getting along.”
“Have you not read the papers? Everyone in the city is talking about me.”
Frowning, Nellie sat back. “This city is much bigger than Fifth Avenue and high society. And you must ignore the small-minded people with nothing better to do than gossip.”
Harrison had said the same, but it was hard, especially when she hadn’t faced this sort of thing before. “I’ll try.”
Nellie pursed her lips, her gaze thoughtful. “Was this why I was summoned? Because you are hiding out in the house?”
Maddie grimaced. “I’m not exactly hiding. I am trying to let the scandal blow over before I venture out.”
Sighing, Nellie stood. “Let’s go. I am getting you out of here.”
“I can’t leave.”
“That’s ridiculous. Of course you may leave. Come on, we’ll go together.”
“No. I don’t want to face them.”
“We’re not paying a call to Caroline Astor’s house, Maddie. We are going to Graham’s Ice Cream Parlor.”
“I’m supposed to be on my honeymoon.”
“Yet your husband is no doubt traipsing about around town. Why are you not allowed to do the same?”
That was a good point—not that Harrison had asked her to stay inside. She’d hidden of her own volition once the story of the broken engagement and compromise hit the newspapers.
“So it’s settled,” Nellie announced. “Move your backside off that chair. You need to get out.”
It was tempting. Graham’s was close, just a few blocks away. The ice cream parlor was patronized by the masses, not only members of society, most of whom were in Newport at this time of year, anyway. So while Graham’s might be busy, there was little chance she’d see anyone she knew. “I’ll go if you promise two things. One, you won’t leave my side, and two, that we’ll leave should we find it crowded.”
“I solemnly swear.” Nellie waved her hand impatiently. “Get moving.”
Ten minutes later they entered the ice cream parlor. The walk had been uneventful, and Maddie breathed a sigh of relief when the shop was empty. They found a table and sat in the small iron chairs.
“See?” Nellie opened her menu. “No society matrons chasing you with pitchforks.”
“Yet, anyway,” Maddie murmured as she flipped through the menu pages.
They placed their orders and relaxed. It was rude to dump her marital troubles on her friend, but Maddie had always been close to Nellie. “Harrison finally confessed the reason for the house party.”
“To get time with you in order to convince you to marry him?”
“How did you know?”
“Maddie, please. Most everyone there was aware of it. He did a poor job of hiding his feelings for you.”
“Well, were you aware that he was cut off from his family and made a fortune in Paris?”
“No, but it’s reassuring he’s not a layabout like most of these society gents. There’s nothing more boring than a spoiled, entitled man.”
Maddie drummed her fingers on the table. “How are you so sanguine in the face of everything?”
“Must be due to losing my mother at an early age.” Nellie lifted a shoulder. “Life is fleeting. We have to enjoy it while we’re here.”
Reaching out, Maddie clasped her friend’s hand. “That makes perfect sense.”
Nellie smiled and squeezed Maddie’s hand in re
turn. When they pulled apart, she asked, “So you and Harrison have been fighting?”
“Yes. It turns out he’s full of surprises.”
“Good surprises or bad surprises?”
“Both?”
“Ah, I see what’s going on here.” Nellie’s gaze turned shrewd. “Someone is annoyed that her best friend went off and grew wings without her.”
“That is ridiculous. I am annoyed that he lied about it.”
“Fine, but you expect to catch up on three years of separate lives in one day? That’s not realistic, Maddie.”
“You’re saying to forgive him.”
“Nellie!”
They both turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Katherine Delafield stopped beside their table, a wide grin on her face. “And Maddie. Hello to you both. Fancy seeing you here.”
“Hello, Kat,” Nellie said.
“Katherine,” Maddie greeted with relief. Another friend who hadn’t snubbed her. “It’s so nice to see you.”
“You too. How is—”
Katherine’s aunt walked up, a deep scowl on her face, and the conversation died. Maddie’s throat dried out in the presence of the matronly disapproval raining down on her like a thunder cloud. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Delafield,” she automatically said.
Katherine’s aunt did not acknowledge Maddie’s words. She lifted her chin and pushed gently on Katherine’s shoulder. “Come along. We must find a table far away from anyone who is considered a bad influence.”
“But Aunt Dahlia—”
“Move, Katherine.”
I’m sorry, Katherine mouthed as her aunt tugged her toward the back of the shop.
“Welcome to the bad influence club,” Nellie said with an attempt at levity in her voice, but it rang hollow.
A stone settled in Maddie’s stomach as she watched the older woman march away from the table. This outing had been a mistake. “Nellie, I’m not hungry. I should return home.”