Amanda nodded. “I’m pleased to meet you too.” For years, she had overheard Emily’s tirades about that ‘Burnsfield brat’ and searched for the renegade lurking behind his polite manner.
“I’m flattered you know me, though we’ve never formally met,” Reagan said.
“Of course, I know about you,” Amanda blurted. “I’ve heard about those scrapes you got into--”
“Amanda!” Emily gasped. “I’m sure Mr. Burnsfield doesn’t wish to be reminded about such foolish tales!”
Reagan laughed good-naturedly. “It’s quite all right. I’m sure the stories were true. However, I can assure you I’ve long since abandoned such behavior.”
Amanda blushed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be repeating gossip.”
“Nonsense. You couldn’t sully my name any more than I have already. And, to show I take no offense, I insist on a dance this evening.”
The kindness in his voice caused Amanda to meet the warmth of his open regard. “Certainly,” she said as impressions of being held by him flitted through her mind.
Having turned the incident to his favor, Reagan touched her fingers to his lips before joining those already introduced.
Moments later, a hand clamped on Reagan’s shoulder. “Well, if it izzn’t that bushwhacker Burnsfield! Why aren’t you in the backwoods cutting that scrub you call timber?”
Half turning, Reagan grinned at the dapperly dressed fellow and clasped his hand. “Beauregard Barrington, you sorry excuse for a gentleman! How did someone of such questionable heritage get invited?” He leaned forward and whispered. “And where did you find your newest conquest?” he asked, smiling at the young lady Beau had his arm around.
“Sacrebleu! You cast aspersions on my dear ma mère. She’d be wounded to hear you say such blasphemies.”
“I think not. I never see you work at your father’s hotel. Like all Frenchmen, you spend your time enjoying your lady friends.”
“Tis true! Ma mère is most proud I favor her looks and temperament, rather than my English sire.”
Reagan folded his arms, considering his friend. “And yet, that very same woman has uttered such insults that your companion would blush if she ever heard what your dear mama has called you.”
Beau grinned cheerfully. “But, it was all in French.”
“Still, I’ve been around long enough to grasp your mother’s tongue, and believe me,” Reagan said, jabbing Beauregard’s chest. “It wasn’t pretty.”
Pulling his lady companion close, Beau whispered loudly. “Do not believe this jack-a-napes. It’s no secret he can twist anything to his advantage.”
“Now who’s insulting my heritage?”
“La pomme ne tombe pas loin du tronc. The apple never falls far from the tree.” Beau shrugged. “Can one truly depart from one’s destiny?”
“I can’t vouch for French sots, but my fate is shaped by my hands only.” Reagan refolded his arms, raising a brow. “And, if I recall, many were the times these hands had to save your hide when your wit superseded your sense.”
Beauregard laughed, displaying white teeth. “Go fishing with me next Sunday and we’ll put them to good use. Quick! Dinner is about to be announced. Will you come next Sunday?”
“Only if you clean and cook what we catch for supper,” Reagan said. “Your hands are small, but they’re as nimble as your tongue.”
Beau grinned as a servant opened wide the dining room doors. “We’ll let the chef at father’s hotel prepare them,” he said. “I’ve better things to do than handle cold fish.”
Once everyone was seated, Reagan noted the most eligible bachelors were strategically positioned near Amanda. Leroy Spelding, the son of a business partner at the Bruester Bank and Trust, held the enviable space to Amanda’s right. His pale hair combed straight back accentuated his long nose and wide forehead. He seemed to think his profile gave an aristocratic appearance and bestowed Amanda with its effect throughout the meal. Across the table, Reagan decided to content himself with Mayor Hampton’s daughter, Elizabeth, to his left. Though barely in her twenties, he recalled she had assumed at her mother’s death hostess duties to her father’s many gatherings. Yet, despite their conversation, Reagan found himself continually drawn to Amanda’s beauty.
“Reagan, you’ve not heard a word I’ve said,” Elizabeth pouted, tapping her fork in annoyance. “I asked whether you were interested in attending the dramatic Carnival.” She shot a glance at Amanda who held captive Leroy’s attention. “It seems everyone is quite taken with Miss Bruester.”
“My pardon,” he said, dragging back his gaze. “I fear I’ve become besotted while surrounded by all this beauty. Please allow me to make amends.”
Elizabeth searched his face hoping for evidence of a budding attraction. For years she’d secretly desired Reagan’s notice, never getting more than the same regard he gave to anyone. Determined not to lose this opportunity, Elizabeth coquettishly lowered her lashes. “Why, if you’re truly repentant, Mr. Burnsfield, then of course I forgive you. You may make amends by honoring me with the first dance.”
Though Reagan had already intended his first dance to be with Amanda, he hid his chagrin. “It’ll be my pleasure,” he answered.
Chapter Four
After dinner, Amanda’s guests retired to the parlor with sherry offered to ladies and stronger libations for men. From across the room, Reagan observed Lorelda Hargrove and Camilla Muelder standing on either side of Amanda. Reagan guessed Lorelda to be nearing her thirties as she typified the never married who were still invited to coming-out balls. Thick set with sparse brows, Lorelda could never be considered pretty. But as fireflies are drawn toward fire, Reagan suspected Lorelda’s sole purpose was to be positioned near enough to the flame to attract a firefly of her own.
On the other hand, Camilla was a honey-gold beauty with sparkling green eyes that never ceased moving and whose laugher lilted like music. Though younger than Lorelda, Camilla tolerated and even encouraged Lorelda’s presence when the two happened upon the same gathering. If Lorelda suspected her friendship being used to bring out Camilla’s beauty, she never let on.
When strains of music beckoned from the ballroom, Leroy, who had been standing near Amanda, became the first to extend her his arm. After she accepted, he escorted her to the dance floor. He turned with a flourish and lifting his leg, displayed what could best be described as a gallop-turn-gallop across the floor. As he reached the far side of the room, other couples joined in, obscuring his clumsy stride and Amanda’s pained expression.
Elizabeth spied Reagan walking toward her through the crowd. She subtly lifted her shoulders and by the time he drew close, her neckline had slipped, exposing more cleavage.
“Will you honor me with this dance?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said, taking his arm. “I’ve been waiting. And, you must tell me all about your timber trade. From what I’ve heard, it sounds most exciting.”
Reagan laughed. “Not nearly as exciting as being here,” he said. “All winter with a bunch of men, isn’t much fun.”
“Then, I consider it a privilege to raise your spirits,” she said when they entered the ballroom. “In the future, I hope you’ll allow me an opportunity to do so again.”
On the dance floor, Elizabeth pressed close, inviting a daring view of her bosom. Yet, as they waltzed her ploy went unnoticed and she felt an urgency to snatch his attention.
“I’m so enjoying myself,” she said, sighing. I wish Daddy would give balls like this.”
“Doesn’t the mayor often entertain?” Reagan asked. “He seems to keep busy.”
“Those are just stuffy dinner parties for Daddy’s old cronies,” she said. “I mean real parties.”
“Oh?” He smiled politely. “I recall Beau mentioning your presence at most events. Maybe you could have your father plan one like those.”
Softly, as if it were accidental, Elizabeth’s fingers stroked the back of Reagan’s neck. “Daddy never cares about inc
luding my friends. What I meant, is throw a ball where I can invite only those whom I wish to entertain.” Her elation was short-lived and her heart became scored when Reagan looked sharply toward Amanda as Leroy swept her by in a whirl of legs and elbows.
“It seems Miss Bruester has fascinated the lot of you,” she said, a snarl creeping into her voice. “And no wonder, wearing such scandalously revealing attire.”
“My pardon,” Reagan said. “They looked as if they were about to stumble into us. But even if I were staring, you could hardly blame Amanda.”
“Why not? That dress is designed to seize a man’s eyes. I’m shocked she’s even wearing that rag.”
Reagan didn’t speak for a moment and when he did, his voice sounded tight. “Perhaps you’d be doing Amanda a kindness to inform her of her blunder.”
“Oh dear! I didn’t mean that how it sounded,” Elizabeth said, eyes rounded. “I only meant that one’s clothing should reflect one’s breeding. Amanda must not realize how tawdry her dress looks. At least, I thought Emily should’ve known. Please, can you forgive my clumsy words?”
“But of course,” Reagan said. “Let’s forget about any unpleasantness and enjoy our dance.”
When the music ended, he returned Elizabeth to her place and though she hoped otherwise, Reagan didn’t solicit her company again.
It was well into evening before Reagan found an opportunity to claim his dance with Amanda. Finding her resting on a bench with Beauregard nearby, he took her hand, purposely bumping into the confrère.
“At last, Miss Bruester, a moment when you’re not otherwise engaged. May I now have the pleasure of my promised dance?”
“Monsieur Burnsfield, how rude to interrupt,” Beau sputtered. “Even an oaf like you can see I’m her escort.”
“But, where’s your enchanting partner?” Reagan asked, nudging Beauregard farther away.
“Powdering her little nose! Stop that! Look, you are an oaf. My shoe has a Reagan-print on it.”
“That’s because you have very big feet for such a little man. Look.” With a foot, he tapped Beau’s shoe. “How do you keep from stepping on the toes of all your sweethearts?” He made a show of looking around. “Where did you say she was?”
Amanda touched Beau’s arm. “It’s all right, Mr. Barrington. I did promise Mr. Burnsfield a dance.”
“As you wish, demoiselle,” he said, relenting. “Your pleasure is mine.”
Grinning at Beau, Reagan helped Amanda rise before tucking her arm under his, striking an unhurried pace. “My mother once told me that her life was never the same after her coming out ball. So, I’m wondering if anything’s changed now that you’ve been presented.”
“Well, let’s see…” Amanda counted out her fingers. “I’ve been introduced to so many people and my head is awhirl with jumbled names.” At Reagan’s upraised brow she quickly added, “Yours excepted, of course.”
“Of course,” he agreed.
“My feet are protesting the miles I’ve surely danced.” Amanda’s second finger took its place beside the first. Reagan consolingly patted her hand and then left it there, deciding he liked the feel of it.
“I’ve learned there’s more than one way to do the Highland Schottische.” Up went the third digit. Reagan kept silent about Amanda’s miserable luck in finding Leroy her partner when the lively dance began.
“My nerves have calmed considerably,” Amanda declared, her little finger making a quartet.
Reaching the dance floor, Reagan took her into his arMs. “That, my dear, is because of the repetitious nature of balls. With time, your confidence will grow.”
As they swept the floor in perfect cadence, Amanda enjoyed a strange sense of ease in his presence. He didn’t exhibit the stuffy mannerisms of her other partners nor did he list why his family name was as distinguished as hers. If anything, he seemed like a man who simply enjoyed her company. “You must’ve partaken in too many balls to dance this well,” she accused, her eyes sparkling.
Reagan wiggled her middle finger. “It only seems that way because your toes are quite numb by now.”
Amanda laughed. “By morning, I’ll know what it’s like to have bruised and achy feet.”
“The remedy is to soak them in hot, salty water and a massage to end it with,” said Reagan. “I highly recommend it.”
At that moment Leroy and his partner whirled by. Craning his neck in their direction, Leroy didn’t see a third couple, Beau and Camilla, until too late. As Leroy and Beau collided, Reagan pulled Amanda close and spun away.
Beau teetered on his heels while letting loose a string of French pejoratives. Leroy, red faced and sputtering apologies, righted Beau and Camilla before dancing away with his partner.
Reagan had prolonged his embrace until Amanda’s sachet enticed his eyes downward. From his vantage point he fairly devoured the sight of her breasts pressed against his chest. Though he’d maintained a cool reserve while keeping her at arms length, he found it impossible when right below his nose. “Madam,” he uttered, feeling his lower belly tighten. “You’re a vision of loveliness I’ll carry with me forever.”
Staring upward, Amanda’s heart thudded. “Sir, you can release me. I believe the danger is past.”
Reagan’s eyes smoldered as he met her gaze. “My dear, your beauty stirs the imagination. I simply made the most of a circumstance because I’m ill advantaged to every swain who’s known you longer.”
Amanda felt his hold loosen and she quickly put safe distance between them. “A gentleman doesn’t take advantage of a lady or a circumstance,” she said sharply. “I’m shocked you admitted such a thing. Yet, you can repair your wrongdoing with an apology.”
Reagan swung her in a dizzying whirl before grinning. “It’s a logical request and I’m happy to do it. I should show remorse, but in truth, my only regret is not making your acquaintance before now.”
“Considering your past reputation, I doubt that would’ve been a possibility,” she said. “Perhaps, the gossip is true after all, and I should be wary.”
“I’ve been reformed, remember? Although,” he lowered his voice, his eyes once again dipping to her décolletage, “you sorely tempt me to break my promise. Had I known what a delightful morsel you’d become, I’d have come sooner to sample your sweetness.”
She became startled as pinpricks followed his gaze over her bosom and when his insinuation sank in, Amanda stiffened with fury. “You think me a temptress?” she choked, pulling away. Her thoughts became jumbled as her initial impressions of him blended with the rake he now appeared to be. This night she had been torturously cinched, trod upon by privileged oafs and now leered at by the one man she thought a gentleman. This was too much!
Reaching back, she soundly slapped his face. “I see the tittle-tattle is true after all, Mister Burnsfield. I fear I’ve misjudged you. You’re a scoundrel of the first sort!”
Dancers halted at the commotion while musicians spluttered into silence. A murmur erupted among those clamoring for a better view as a hush descended around Reagan and Amanda.
Having witnessed the slap, Emily hurried toward the couple now the center of everyone’s attention. Her breath labored as she realized the appalling situation. That her daughter had dishonored a guest was disgraceful enough, but in front of all her peers! Emily didn’t doubt that before night aged into day, the story would be spread throughout the city.
Without further words, Amanda lifted her hem and fled the ballroom. Emily, having no choice but to follow, hurried after her just as Beauregard skidded to a stop beside Reagan.
“Oo la la!” he whispered. “I think I’m in love!”
Reagan rubbed his jaw. “I’m not sure you’d survive that one’s love. She packs quite a wallop.”
“Where are you going?”
“To find Mr. Bruester and extend my apologies,” he said. “Go back to your dance. Camilla is waiting.”
Chapter Five
Thomas Burnsfield looked up when his office d
oor opened. “Good morning, Father,” Reagan mouthed around a cheroot.
“Since you weren’t yet awake for breakfast, I assume the Bruester ball was worthwhile after all,” Thomas said.
“Intriguing,” he said, removing his cigar before taking a seat. He changed the subject by withdrawing several sheaths and a map from his satchel. “We were right about unclaimed timber along the Cattaraugus River. Bradley registered enough land tracts for several camps.”
Reagan anticipated his father’s pleasure at his successful mission. Not since taking over registering land tracts had he accomplished such a windfall for the company. He hoped the acquisition would soften news of the withdrawn contract for he’d decided to tell Thomas of the loss today.
Thomas scanned the map. “Well done. We’ll start the first camp this fall.”
A knock on the door interrupted their conversation moments before the office manager, Irwin Bates, entered. “There’s a gentleman here to see you. He says he’s from the federal government.”
“Give me a few moments, then show him in,” Thomas said.
Reagan stubbed his smoke. “I’m sorry, did you have an appointment?”
“No. I wasn’t expecting anyone.” Removing papers from his desk, Thomas rose and drew up another chair. “If you recall, we’ve supplied lumber in years past for government steamboats. This may be another such order.”
Bates opened the door allowing the agent inside. “Mr. Burnsfield, this is Mr. Raymond Follet.”
“Good morning.” Follet smiled, extending his hand to Thomas, then Reagan. “I hope my visit isn’t an inconvenience.”
“Not at all. Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you, kindly.” Follet sat down and appeared to be busily groping his pockets until he heard the door latch. Quieting his hands, he looked from Thomas to Reagan. “Gentlemen, as a matter of concern, I need to ask that this visit remains private. Not even your man Bates can reveal my identity. Will this be a problem?”
“You can rest assured, Mr. Bates has never breached a confidence,” Thomas said. “And neither will we.”
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