She’d overheard her sisters giggling to each other about how watching gentlemen made them feel, but men just didn’t affect her in the same manner. She cleared her throat as her mother’s rules of etiquette floated through her mind, screaming at her to say something to him, anything.
“This is quite elaborate attire you are wearing tonight.”
Joseph smiled slightly. “Basil told me to pack my good suit, because we were going dancing.”
“How did you and my brother meet?”
“We met in a bar on his first day in St. Louis. I will let him tell you the full story.”
He gazed into her eyes, and her throat suddenly went dry. She ran her tongue lightly over her lips and watched as Joseph’s eyes followed her tongue’s movement. His observation rattled her even more, as she attempted conversation again.
“Did you tell Basil about our previous meeting?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I assumed you were involved in something you were not supposed to be doing, and telling your brother about it would have tipped your hand. It will remain our secret.”
“Oh.” She fell quiet as she digested this information. Now they were sharing not only a dance, but a secret! She shivered in delight. “I appreciate your concern for my privacy. And, I apologize for nearly fainting when I saw you earlier. You can imagine the scenario that raced through my head. I thought for certain my involvement in the rally was about to be exposed. But, I’m puzzled at my reaction. I’ve never in my life fainted.”
“It is a big night for you, so it is understandable.” His steps were sure as he moved her around the floor.
“Are the horses I saw you with yesterday some of the ones you’ve brought to sell? I’d like to look at them more closely.”
Joseph raised one of his magnificent eyebrows at her. “What do you know of horseflesh?”
“I know how to ride. I’ve been doing so my entire life.”
“And that makes you a qualified expert in the field?”
“I didn’t say I was an expert, for heaven’s sake,” she replied in exasperation. “I was merely making polite conversation.”
“You know, as I was watching you on the dance floor before with your partner, I began to compare you to horseflesh myself.”
Ginger bristled. “How dare you!” She tried to pull her hand away from his, but he held her tightly in place.
“Yes, I thought you were like a thoroughbred, finely boned and high-spirited, and he was a plough horse holding you back.”
“Oh.” Ginger inhaled sharply at his words. She was still struggling for breath as the last strains of the song ended, and he led her back to her family. When Joseph released her hand at the edge of the dance floor, her body deflated like a balloon that had suddenly lost all of its air.
The night continued with Basil and now Joseph, taking to the dance floor as a crowd of eager young ladies circled around them, all with dance cards that suddenly had empty spaces on them. Ginger performed her duty of dancing with each and every man who had claimed a place on her card. She tried to keep track of whom Joseph danced with, but even though he towered over most everyone else in the room, she still lost sight of him in the crowd frequently. She felt dizzy from all the swirling about.
• • •
Several hours later, Joseph watched as the Fitzpatrick family gathered together when the party began to wind down. Basil wandered over to him as he left the dance floor.
“So what do you think of my boisterous family?”
“They are not so different from my people, Bas. A bit pale, perhaps, but nothing else.”
“You’ve been pretty quiet all evening. I thought perhaps meeting most of my family at once was too much. They do have a tendency to overwhelm people.”
“Not at all. They are enjoyable.”
“Well, we have managed to keep Ginger on her best behavior for one night, anyway. I know my parents are breathing sighs of relief. Thank you, my good friend, for providing a diversion.”
“Judging from the crush of people who spoke to us, I would say you are the diversion, not me. Do you know every last person in New York? They all seemed to be eager to welcome you home.”
“I’m the excuse for everyone coming to greet us. You’re the reason. All these young ladies wanted to dance with you — you’re someone new in their midst. I can’t wait to read the society pages in tomorrow’s paper.”
“Let us hope these young ladies never find out their dance partner was an Indian. I still think inviting me to come with you to New York was a huge mistake.”
Chapter Five
Basil let himself into the family brownstone the next afternoon and followed the sounds of voices and tinkling china cups into the parlor. On every table throughout the house sat a bouquet of flowers. Their cloying scent made Basil groan inwardly. So many flowers meant one of two things: either someone had just died, or Ginger’s debut into society was an overwhelming success. No one he knew had passed away, therefore the flowers meant he would have his hands full keeping Ginger and her various suitors in check for the remainder of the season. That made his mission today even more crucial.
As he strode into the room, all conversation stopped and every pair of eyes in the parlor turned to him. He wore his usual western casual attire. His duster coat was draped over his shoulders and open in the front to reveal a pair of deerskin trousers. The pants hugged his thighs, which had turned into hard muscle during his year in the West. He spent his free time with Joseph, learning how to round up and break horses. Well-worn boots came up to his knees. His mother smiled and set down her teacup.
“Basil, you’re here!” She stood and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Did you bring your suitcase so you can move back into your room and get out of the hotel where you spent last night? And where is your friend, Mr. Lafontaine?”
Basil gave his mother a hug, lifting her off her feet. She giggled like a girl. Several of the young ladies who had been talking to Ginger sighed.
“Joseph is at the livery, taking care of his horses. Some men have already expressed interest in them, so he’s adamant that he should be the only one to care for them and make certain they are in prime form.”
Ginger hugged her brother too, and tugged on his sleeve. “You and Mr. Lafontaine will be moving in here for the season, though, won’t you?”
“I don’t know, Ginger. Joseph and I may not want Mother to know what we’re doing in the evenings.” Basil grinned at his mother.
The girls in the room sighed again. They were all Ginger’s closest friends, along with their mothers, and were discussing last night’s Cotillion in elaborate detail.
Basil asked, “Mother, may we talk privately for a moment? Is Father in his library?”
Charlotte glanced around the room at her guests, seemingly befuddled at this lapse in etiquette. “I suppose so. Ginger, please take over the hostess duties for me, if you don’t mind.”
“But ... ”
“Hush, Ginger. I’ll only be a minute. Colleen can help you with the tea,” Charlotte replied as the Irish maid wheeled a fresh teacart into the room.
Basil turned back to the group. “Ladies, please forgive me for interrupting your tea party.” He bowed at the waist, but raised his eyes, taking in each face.
He followed his mother down the hall and into the library. George Fitzpatrick was sitting behind his large mahogany desk, smoking his pipe. His slippered feet were propped up on the desk and he was engrossed in the newspaper. He folded the paper down over his knuckles and gazed above it as Charlotte and Basil entered. His blue eyes crinkled in pleasure at seeing his son.
“To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”
“I know it’s your day off from the bank, Father, but I feel I must discuss a matter of the bank’s business with y
ou most urgently. I have to be totally honest with you and Mother before another evening’s entertainment begins. I may have inadvertently stirred up a potential disaster for us.”
They stared at him quizzically. He cleared his throat.
“The reason I came to you today is to tell you about Joseph. I’m afraid I left out some vital information about him.” Noticing that he now had both parents’ rapt attention, he hurried the conversation along. “He’s part Indian, common enough in St. Louis, but not on the streets of New York.”
His father set the paper down on the desktop. “You mean to tell me you brought an Indian home with you? A savage?”
Basil grimaced. “Indian, yes. Savage, no.” He stared at his father. “Joseph is half Indian. His father is as white as you are.”
He studied his mother, whose eyes had grown enormous. She clutched her hand to her heart and collapsed in the nearest chair.
“Oh, dear. Ginger’s reputation will now most certainly be ruined. For goodness’ sake, I’m the one who gave her permission to dance with him last night. And, after she danced with him, so did many other young ladies. Oh my gracious, their reputations will all be jeopardized, too!” She glared at her son. “Why did you not warn me?”
“Because I don’t think of him as an Indian. At least not most of the time. His father is a French-Canadian, his mother is an Ojibwa from Canada, and the family is a mix of both cultures. The entire family can read, write, and speak English, as well as Ojibwa and French. When I first set foot in St. Louis, I stopped into a tavern to get a meal. I must have been viewed as an easy target, being a soft young man just off the train from back East. Several men hauled me outside and began to attack me.”
He listened to his mother’s quick intake of breath.
“You never told us you had encountered trouble.”
“Well, I was just a bit embarrassed about it, since I hadn’t been in St. Louis more than a couple of hours. I felt certain if Father discovered what had happened to me he’d force me to return without ever opening the bank.”
George smiled and took up his pipe. “You were wise not to tell us, son, because I probably would have brought you back home. But, please do continue.”
“They were doing a good job of pummeling me. I’m quite certain they would not have stopped until I was dead, or at least mortally wounded, and they had stolen what money I had on me. And then, suddenly, they ceased and disappeared. Joseph only had to raise his voice and they ran off. He helped me to my feet and we’ve become best friends. I thought bringing his horses here would open up new business for him, and I owe him that much at least for saving my life. And, I’m proud to say our bank funded his family’s recent excursion into the West to capture ponies for the settlers and to purchase saddles.”
His father’s eyebrows shot up. “He’s Tall Feather Enterprises?”
“One and the same. They named the business after his mother, Mary Tall Feather. I thought he’d be able to pass as a French-Canadian among New Yorkers, but I wasn’t thinking clearly about the ramifications of bringing him to the ball last night. The situation kind of mushroomed out of control as one lady after another danced with him — I never expected so many of them to line up for a dance. So you see, I’ve put you into a precarious predicament. If anyone were to find out his true identity it would damage our standing in the community, for we have tattered so many ladies’ reputations by allowing them to dance with him. If you want us to turn around and head back to St. Louis right now, we will.”
Charlotte took a deep breath and held her hand to the side of her head. “Let me think for a moment. I know there’s got to be a way to fix this.” She studied the floor. Suddenly, her face brightened and she stood up. “You will not turn tail and run back to St. Louis, Basil.” She tapped his arm with her fan. “Even though we have done something totally inappropriate, your retreat would only compound the problem. After all, Mr. Lafontaine is one of our bank’s clients, a point we must bear in mind. But, you are correct in thinking we would be ostracized from New York society if we let his true heritage be known. What we must do is merely alter the story a bit so as not to put a blight on the reputations of all those fine young ladies. And ourselves.”
She began to pace the room as her plans took shape, her small feet tapping out a quick staccato rhythm, matching her thinking.
“How many of our friends have come into contact with a true French-Canadian? I can’t imagine it would be many. So, we, the Fitzpatricks, pillars of society that we are, are quite excited to have a real, live exotic French-Canadian in our midst. We’ll be an even bigger hit this season. Ginger will be invited everywhere with you and Mr. Lafontaine accompanying her.” She clapped her hands together in excitement.
“It would be unseemly for him to stay here in our house, of course, because we do have young women living here. So the two of you will keep your rooms at the hotel. But he will be welcome into our midst. We’ll host a dinner to celebrate your return from the frontier, and Mr. Lafontaine’s presence among us, here at the house, in a few days. Oh, I need to confer with Ginger on whom to invite. I’m quite certain it will be the most talked-about event of the week. Annie Schemerhorn will be so jealous. Do you suppose our cook can prepare some Chateaubriand?”
Charlotte ceased her excited ramblings as she noticed both men staring at her. “What? Is Chateaubriand not appropriate for a Frenchman? I can’t very well serve bison and expect to keep his Indian identity secret, can I?”
Basil and George locked eyes, and then simultaneously broke into fits of laughter. George came around the desk to embrace his wife. “Although I’m not thrilled with having to dupe our peers for an entire season, I knew you’d figure out a way to manage it. Leave it to you to take what could have been a devastating situation and make it the most sought after social event of the week!”
Basil put his arm around her. “Thanks, Mother. I knew I could count on you.”
Charlotte wrapped her arm around his waist. “You’ll have dinner with the family tonight, both you and your friend. But the big affair will be the formal dinner. You do have some appropriate clothing to wear, I hope?” She ran her hand down the sleeve of his duster.
Basil’s smile was easy. “Yes, Mother. I do run a bank after all, even if it is in St. Louis. I will make certain both Joseph and I are properly attired for your big event, although I’m more excited about dinner with the family tonight. Shall we say eight o’clock?”
“It will be a challenge to keep his true identity a secret from the children. You know how inquisitive they are. Jasmine and Heather are sure to pester him to death. And Ginger seemed to enjoy their dance last night. I only hope he doesn’t let something slip out about his Indian mother.”
“Somehow, Mother, I don’t think Joseph will be the one we need to worry about. He’s accustomed to keeping things to himself. It’s the three of us I’m concerned about.” He shifted his gaze from his mother to his father. “This will be interesting.”
Chapter Six
In the livery, Joseph ran the currycomb over his spirited black steed. His soothing words and repetitive motions put the animal at ease.
“Calm down, mon petit. I will not bite.” He realized with a start he was repeating the same words to the horse he had used the previous evening to calm Ginger on the dance floor.
In a way it made sense, because he had thought of little else since his dance with her. Joseph had not been joking when he had compared her to a fine filly. What he neglected to tell her was the horse came up short in the comparison. He ran his hand over the horse’s flank, thinking of the swell of Ginger’s hips as his hand had encircled her waist. He found his hands could nearly span her waist, she was so small. But not delicate. She was a spitfire, not a fragile blossom. She would do well in St. Louis should she choose to move there. Unlike New York City, his hometown had plenty of fresh air, and hard work was necessa
ry.
He sighed as he imagined her, smiling as she turned her face up toward the sun while walking along the streets of St. Louis. With the firm resolve he had developed over the years, he called a halt to his line of thought. No, it was best she stay in the privileged atmosphere of New York’s high society. It was what she was accustomed to, and he must not interfere with her parents’ and Basil’s wish to find her a suitable partner, despite his own feelings.
He rested his head on the horse’s neck in an attempt to get his mind off the wisp of a woman he had met only two days ago — was it only two days? Basil was expecting him to help protect Ginger’s reputation and to keep her focused on the goal of finding a husband during the upcoming season. Joseph did not think she needed any help in handling herself. That was part of what fascinated him. Her calm assurance and self-confidence.
Joseph remembered his conversation with Basil, when they began to talk about the trip. Basil first convinced him that he could make better money selling his horses to wealthy New Yorkers, an idea Joseph latched onto immediately. But when Basil presented his harebrained scheme that Joseph pass himself off as a French-Canadian and hide his Indian heritage from Basil’s family and friends, Joseph had strongly objected.
He still did not think it wise to present himself as something other than what he was. Though equally proud of both sides of his heritage, Joseph was smart enough to know most of society did not share his feelings. He thought the better approach would be to stay in the background while Basil had his fun with his family, but Basil had insisted.
Still filled with apprehension, Joseph had agreed to the trip, hoping Basil was correct in both his assumptions — that he could sell his horses at a huge profit and that his Indian blood could be masked. Then, on his first day in New York City, he met the woman he had been dreaming about all his life and it was his hard luck to discover she was Basil’s sister. He could still smell her scent. The lilac fragrance clung to his clothing. And just as her scent stayed with him, so did images of her body, and her upturned mouth.
Time After Time Page 187