The Heiress Hunt

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The Heiress Hunt Page 29

by Joanna Shupe


  “Start him in the mailroom,” Harrison said. “If he succeeds there after an extended period of time, then we’ll move him up.”

  William nodded. “We’ll continue this after dinner, I assume?”

  “Nope. Win or lose, I’ll be busy celebrating with my wife tonight. I’ll find you in the morning. And thank you, Innis. I know this week has been a long one for you. Feel free to take the rest of the day. You’re welcome to come to the match with me, if you like.”

  “No, thank you. I’ll just catch up on some cables, then head out for dinner. I have family here in Philadelphia that I’d like to see. Wish her luck for me.”

  “Indeed, I will.” Harrison left the room and took the elevator downstairs, where he strode out into the bright June sun. With the hotel directly across from the Philadelphia Cricket Club, he was through the gates in hardly any time at all.

  The main court was surrounded by spectators, a heady excitement hanging in the air. Lawn tennis fever had gripped America, and Maddie was one of the reasons for its popularity. She was bold and outspoken, a brash player who took the game seriously. The newspapers loved to quote her, this woman of high society who dared to sweat and struggle in public. She’d become a national celebrity.

  While Harrison supported her wholeheartedly, part of him still feared for her safety after what happened last year. They had decided—together—that guards weren’t yet necessary, that the masher had been an isolated incident, but Harrison never stopped worrying.

  He spotted Preston, that tall bastard, right away at center court, surrounded by their friends and Maddie’s parents. Harrison pushed through the crowd to meet them.

  Kit slapped him on the shoulder. “About time you arrived. Your wife is already warming up.”

  The two opponents were on the court, hitting easily to loosen their muscles. “How does she look, Vallie?”

  Maddie’s coach didn’t take his eyes off her as he calmly answered, “Like a champion.”

  “I’m nervous,” Preston admitted, wiping his palms on his trousers. “I cannot fathom how you are all so relaxed.”

  Harrison was also nervous, but he had faith in Maddie’s abilities. Also, no matter what happened today, she’d already won in his book. Hell, she was ranked the third-best female player in the country at the moment. A spectacular achievement if you asked him, especially when one considered that most of the other players weren’t even twenty years old. Maddie said she often felt like a tottering old fool next to some of these young gals.

  “Is it too much to ask for shade?” Mrs. Webster, perched on a tiny folding chair, adjusted her parasol. “Only a man would think women wish to sit in the hot sun for two hours to watch a tennis game.”

  “It’s a match, dear.” Mr. Webster patted her shoulder. “And I said you could wait inside.”

  “And miss Maddie’s win?” She sniffed. “I think not.”

  Even Maddie’s mother had come around on Maddie’s tennis career. Harrison knew that Maddie had been touched by her mother’s support in the last year, though it hadn’t stopped Mrs. Webster from asking about grandchildren.

  They weren’t ready yet. Harrison wouldn’t expect Maddie to give up playing competitively to raise their children. He’d used condoms in Paris for years and he didn’t mind using them again now, though they were harder to procure in the United States thanks to the Comstock laws. The trouble was worth it, however, because he was enjoying having her to himself when their schedules allowed.

  “Here we go,” Kit exclaimed, and the crowd quieted down.

  The match began, with Maddie serving first. Heads moved left and right, back and forth, following the progress of the small round ball as points were traded. On and on it went, the two opponents fairly equal in skill. Vallie stayed quiet, his face stoic, while the rest of them clapped and cheered. Maddie won the first set, but lost the second.

  As they changed sides, Maddie walked past them. “Find it,” Vallie said, and she nodded. Then she gave Harrison an exhausted smile, worry shining in her green eyes. I love you, he mouthed to her, adding a wink for good measure. Her shoulders relaxed a bit as she went to the other side of the court.

  “What does ‘find it’ mean?” he asked her coach.

  “She needs to find her opponent’s weakness and exploit it,” Vallie said. “As soon as she does, she wins.”

  In the third set, the other girl played conservatively, staying at the baseline, as if she were scared to play too aggressively. Maddie sensed it and began coming to the net, jumping and diving for balls that seemed impossible, yet she returned them for winners. It was an athletic feat that dazzled the crowd. Everyone seemed to be rooting for her, and she began to pull away as the clear winner of the third set. Even Vallie cracked a smile and clapped.

  The next set remained the same, with Maddie controlling the pace and staying ahead, and then it was over. Maddie jumped up in happiness and relief when her opponent’s last shot went wide. She’d won the match. As the two women shook hands across the net, Harrison traded handshakes and hugs with the rest of their jubilant group. Finally, his wife came running over and threw herself at him. He held her tightly, propriety be damned. “Well done, Mads. Congratulations.”

  Quickly, she was pulled away by their impatient friends and family, who all congratulated her with kisses on the cheek and slaps on the back. He’d never seen her look happier as she basked in their attention.

  When she made it back over to him again, he put an arm around her shoulder and kissed her sweaty cheek. “You were spectacular.”

  “It’s not over yet.” She leaned against him. “There’s still the championship game tomorrow.”

  “No matter what happens, I’m proud of you.”

  “Even if I lose?”

  He heard the teasing in her voice, but he answered with all due seriousness, his lips near her ear. “Win or lose, Madeline Jane Archer, you’re still the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

  She grinned up at him, squinting in the bright sun. “I’ll go change and then we can go back to the hotel and celebrate.”

  That meant taking a bath together and falling into bed naked. He could hardly wait. “Lead the way, champ.”

  Acknowledgments

  Some books come out fully formed and some books take a village. This book took a metropolis. First, I have to thank the super smart and incredibly generous Sarah MacLean, who spent many hours helping me untangle the mess I’d made with this story. In addition, thank you to Sophie Jordan, Diana Quincy and Nisha Sharma for their help along the way. I couldn’t have done it without you!

  I also couldn’t have done it without Tessa Woodward, my fantastic editor at Avon/HarperCollins. This is our seventh book together and she makes me a better writer each time.

  The team at Avon/HarperCollins works hard on producing and promoting my books, and I’m extremely grateful for their efforts: Elle Keck, Jessica Lyons, Angela Craft, Pam Jaffee, Guido Caroti and everyone else behind the scenes. Thanks to Jon Paul Ferrara (Jon Paul Studios) for another fantastic cover illustration. Also, thank you to my agent, Laura Bradford, for always looking out for me.

  A special thanks to Heather Charron and Joana Vieira Varela, members of my Facebook group, the Gilded Lilies, who came up with the name for the Websters’ Newport cottage when my brain melted near the deadline.

  Here are some historical notes for you . . .

  Lawn tennis became an organized, competitive sport during the Victorian Era/Gilded Age. I based Maddie on a number of ladies tennis players from the late 19th and early 20th centuries, but mostly Suzanne Lenglen. A Frenchwoman, Lenglen became an international phenomenon in the 1910s and 1920s, and her aggressive style of play revolutionized ladies tennis. (Seriously, research her because she was one unconventional and outspoken woman, and I’d like a biopic now, please.)

  Mashers were a serious problem in Gilded Age America, as women gained more independence and went out in public more frequently. Hat pins became a way for women to d
efend themselves, though many cities looked to regulate the hat pin instead of cracking down on the sexual assault. (Some things never change, I suppose.) Thanks to the “Racing Nellie Bly” blog for the info that started me down this rabbit hole.

  Before I forget, thank you to the readers, bloggers, reviewers and lovers of romance. We adore you! Your support allows authors to have the best job in the entire world.

  I can’t send enough love to the author pals who listen, support and distract me when I need it. There are too many to name here, but you know who you are!

  Lastly, thanks to my family. I couldn’t continue to do this without their love and patience.

  Announcement

  The next enthralling romance from Joanna Shupe in the Fifth Avenue Rebels series,

  THE LADY GETS LUCKY

  Debuts Fall 2021

  About the Author

  Award-winning author Joanna Shupe has always loved history, ever since she saw her first Schoolhouse Rock cartoon. Her books have appeared on numerous yearly “best of ” lists, including Publishers Weekly, The Washington Post, Kirkus Reviews, Kobo, and BookPage. She lives in New Jersey with her two spirited daughters and dashing husband.

  Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.

  Also by Joanna Shupe

  Uptown Girls

  The Rogue of Fifth Avenue

  The Prince of Broadway

  The Devil of Downtown

  The Four Hundred series

  A Daring Arrangement

  A Scandalous Deal

  A Notorious Vow

  The Knickerbocker Club series

  Magnate

  Baron

  Mogul

  Tycoon

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  the heiress hunt. Copyright © 2021 by Joanna Shupe. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishers. For information, address HarperCollins Publishers, 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007.

  Digital Edition MARCH 2021 ISBN: 978-0-06-304400-5

  Print Edition ISBN: 978-0-06-304504-0

  Cover design by Guido Caroti

  Cover illustration by Jon Paul Ferrara

  Avon, Avon & logo, and Avon Books & logo are registered trademarks of HarperCollins Publishers in the United States of America and other countries.

  HarperCollins is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Publishers in the United States of America and other countries.

  first edition

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