by Diana Ballew
Erin freed her hand. “I don’t feel like an outing today. In fact, if I’ve been dismissed from working today I think I’d rather return to my room.”
“That’s rude, Erin,” her father said. “Frederick has come to see you, and your attitude is most unladylike.”
“Unladylike?” She rose from her chair. “It’s too early in the morning for this nonsense. If you invited Frederick, then perhaps the two of you can spend the day together.”
“Erin!” Edward rose. “Honestly, I don’t know what to do about you anymore.” He sighed and left the room.
Frederick raised his hands. “Hold on. Hold on, now.” He twisted the ends of his bristly mustache to gleaming points. “Erin, please, calm down. We should talk.” He guided her by the elbow to the parlor. “Come now.”
His patronizing tone made the contents of her stomach instantly curdle. She inhaled deeply, trying to squelch her rising anger. Avoiding his gaze, she fanned out her skirt, and sat on the couch. “What did you need to talk to me about?”
Frederick slid next to her. “I’m not here to upset you. Honest, I’m not.”
His tranquil tenor took her by surprise. She lifted her lashes from her heated cheeks and met his gaze.
His brown eyes softened. “Please don’t be angry with your father. He means well, surely you know that.”
Her shoulders curled forward. It was true. Her father loved her, and ever since Mother’s passing, he had grown particularly overprotective. “I … I know he does.”
He reached for her hand. “Despite my inapt misgivings at times, I, too, want what’s best for you. You know that, right?”
She frowned and tilted her chin. “Yes, I suppose. But surely you must know how much it infuriates me when the two of you close ranks on me.”
A smile spread beneath his mustache. “I’m sorry if I’ve given you that impression. It’s just that … it’s just that your father and I, well … ” He sucked in his cheeks and released her hand.
“Well, what?”
“Well, what I’m trying to say, perhaps not as eloquently as I had hoped, is that your father and I are alike. Both of us care deeply for you and want what’s best for you. I was hoping to do this later in the day, but … ” His eyes stayed fixed upon hers as he rummaged through his trouser pocket.
Erin met his longing gaze with a questioning frown. “What are you doing?”
“Ah.” Having found what he was looking for, he smiled and dropped to one knee. “Erin —”
“Oh, God.” She shot to her feet. “Oh, Lord in heaven, Frederick, what are you doing?”
Frederick’s mouth twisted into an awkward smile. “Erin, I was wondering, hoping, really, if you would … ” He cleared his throat. “As I was saying … ” He opened a small burgundy box.
Erin flopped on the couch and cupped a hand over her mouth.
“I would be honored if you would agree to be my wife.”
The brilliant diamond solitaire gleamed in the sunlight glinting through the damask drapes. She gazed into Frederick’s longing eyes. He was her friend, but their friendship was often strained by his possessive, unyielding nature. Did he truly believe the two of them would make a compatible couple? “I don’t know what to say.”
He plucked the ring from the delicate box, rose up from his knee, and sat next to her on the couch. “Well, I was hoping you would say yes, my dear.”
Her mind raced as fast as the beat of her fluttering heart. “I — it’s just that … ”
His eyes prodded her for an answer.
Erin cast her gaze toward her meddling father’s shadow, hovering outside the parlor doorway. “Frederick.” She took his hand in hers.
He inched in closer. “Say it, Erin. Say yes, and you’ll make me the happiest man on earth. You know in your heart that we would make a marvelous couple.”
She bit down on her bottom lip and squeezed his hand. “I enjoy making you happy, Fredrick, but … ”
His eyebrows arched high. “But?”
“I’m sorry. I cannot marry you.”
The muscles along his jawline pulsed as he wedged the ring into the case and shut the velvet box with a snap of his finger. He shot to his feet and paced to the large picture window. “It’s because of Rudliff, isn’t it?”
Her entire body stiffened. “This has nothing to do with Der — Mr. Rudliff.” She joined Frederick at the window and placed a hand on his shoulder.
He jerked at her touch and turned away.
Erin sighed and spun him around to face her. “Honestly, Frederick, do you truly believe in your heart you and I would make a happy home? I cannot thank you enough for your thoughtful fondness, but I’m sorry, my affections for you do not go beyond friendship.”
Frederick’s dark eyes narrowed, simmering with anger. “You know, I should have expected this. Ever since you banded together in those women’s groups, you’ve changed, and not for the better I might add, little lady.”
Anger seared her cheeks. “This is exactly why we can’t be together.” She tilted her chin high and turned away from him on her heels.
He seized her arm. “Face it, Erin. That’s not the reason —”
“It is most certainly the reason!”
He leaned in, his face only inches from hers. “It’s your ridiculous infatuation with Derek Rudliff. Let’s be honest, my dear. I saw you yesterday.” He pointed a firm finger in her face. “I saw you get in his carriage and enter into his house.”
“You’ve been spying on me,” she hissed between pursed lips.
He rolled his eyes and turned away. “Ever since I saw that look in your eyes after you met him at the cemetery, I knew something was up between you two. I went to your father with my concerns. We both agreed it was best to make an honest woman of you before you humiliate yourself further.”
She swatted his hand from her arm. “Oh, how very noble of you, Frederick. You came here and asked me to marry you to save me from myself? Is that right?”
His eyes narrowed to slits. “You don’t know him, Erin, and —”
“Ha! And you do?” she said, challenging his seething gaze.
He leaned forward and whispered, “I know a lot more about him than you do, my dear.”
She laced her fingers together in an attempt to stop their shaking. “I don’t believe you. Go home, Frederick.”
He seized her shoulders, nearly knocking her from her feet. “I know he’ll hurt you. He’s not the man you think he is. What do you know about that red-headed woman we saw him with at the cemetery?”
She planted her feet firmly on the floor and stared into Frederick’s angry eyes prodding her for an immediate answer. “Her? She’s an old friend and new in town. Now, unhand me, you fool.”
Frederick snorted and dropped his arms limply to his sides. “Is that what Rudliff told you? Perhaps you should venture downtown and check out the brothel on Chestnut, my dear.”
She frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He gasped, his mouth twisting in disgust. “My Lord. Now you curse like a dockhand, too.”
Erin marched to the entry and opened the front door. “I’ve had enough of this nonsense. It’s best you leave.”
Frederick clicked his tongue, a wry smile on his thin lips. “Like I said, my dear, you might wish to venture downtown, chaperoned of course, and see for yourself the new madam in town. Seems Rudliff’s ‘old friend’ Regine Delacour is quite the businesswoman.”
“I … I don’t believe you. Have some dignity, Frederick.” She grabbed hold of the knob to slam the door in his arrogant face.
Frederick moved quickly, wedging himself in the doorway. “It’s not just you I’ve been keeping a watchful eye upon. It’s Rudliff, too. Not only is his friend Madame Delacour a trollop, he owns the building and set her up in the business himself.”
Her father darted into the room. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but overhear —”
Erin’s jaw dropped. “Overhear! You’ve been hoverin
g like a ghoul outside the doorway ever since you left the room.” She shook her head in attempt to flush her fury. “Both of you are really too much. I have to get out of here.” She grabbed her coat, hastened past Frederick, and marched down the porch.
“Erin, wait,” her father called.
“Where are you going without a hat or umbrella?” Frederick called. “Have you gone daft?”
Chapter Thirteen
New York
A package arrived from my lawyer. Inside were financial ledgers, journals, and letters. According to a neatly penned missive, the elderly Mr. Watt had recently passed away. Having no family of his own, the old man had left his entire share of the business to me, and the company name changed to Rudliff Land and Timber.
The company had grown considerably under the elder business owner’s previous tenure. Inside the journal, one of Mr. Watt’s last penned entries written during his recent visit to Washington State caught my eye.
“Lush and green and sitting between pristine forests of evergreen mountains to the North and East, the waters of Everett, Washington, are the perfect transport vehicle for lumber.”
I’d been mulling leaving New York ever since my shameful behavior that led me into Erin’s bedroom that pitiful night. With the business clearly marked for growth in the West and solely at my discretion now, it was clear I needed to make a decision.
But the idea of parting from Erin until she reached the attainable age of twenty-three invaded my thoughts by day and haunted my dreams at night.
Could I truly move farther away from her young spirit, even for a few years? After returning from The Blue Moon Lounge one evening, I hatched a plan.
I stood outside the Richland home, hoping Erin’s father would exit. Minutes turned into hours. Finally, the door opened. I tugged the brim of my hat over my brows and bent low, pretending I had just stopped in place to adjust my shoe.
A stout man wrangling a large leather satchel glanced over his shoulder and said, “Inform Mrs. Richland I won’t be home for dinner tonight.” Then the door promptly shut behind him.
I kept a respectable pace behind the man, allowing unwary pedestrians to fill the space between us. Finally, he walked into the building of The New York Herald.
The New York Herald, I mused.
One late afternoon the following week, I waited outside the newspaper building. Once Mr. Richland exited, I trailed him to a nearby pub. He sat with a handsomely dressed group of younger men. I ordered a beer and listened in on their conversation from a nearby table. Erin’s father knew his wife was ill. Consumption, I deduced, judging by his description, and he was genuinely unhappy living in New York.
Unhappy in New York. I downed my beer and wandered the streets for hours.
On the second evening, I shadowed the unsuspecting Mr. Richland to the very same pub. This time, I heard one of his friends ask him a poignant question.
“What is it you long for, Edward?” the younger man asked.
Edward paused for a moment, drank the rest of his foamy beer, and said, “I wish to be my own man.”
I wish to be my own man. Something in his words nagged me, haunted me. I leaned in, listening closely, shoving aside the dawning realization that his bleak feelings mirrored my own.
“I’ve wanted to leave here for so very long,” Edward said with a sigh. “Yes, I want to be my own newspaper man — maybe out West.”
Ideas flooded my mind so fast I couldn’t keep up. I purchased a large piece of land overlooking Port Gardner Bay in Everett, Washington. Soon thereafter, I sent Edward Richland an innocuous advertisement for property at an irresistible price that would make the perfect location for a new city newspaper.
Erin’s father had taken the bait. As I began the lengthy preparations for my move to Washington, the plan was suddenly derailed when I learned Edward’s wife had passed away in Washington and Erin had returned by herself to New York to attend school at Barnard College.
I watched Erin grow into a mirror image of my lovely Ersule. Each time I cast my gaze upon her sweet face, I died again and again.
When school was in session, I would watch her from a safe distance as she walked to and from college with her schoolbooks, often with young, fanciful women by her side. As time passed, young men with lust-filled eyes began escorting her, strolling arm-in-arm with my beloved.
One night while sitting with Gregore and Dominic at The Blue Moon, I couldn’t help but feel the two were keeping something from me.
Curious, I scanned their solemn faces and asked, “All right. What’s going on?”
Gregore gnawed on his bottom lip and stared at me for what felt like an eternity. Finally, he said, “I saw Erin today in the park.”
I was delighted to hear any news concerning her, but the trepidation within his soulful eyes gave me heed. “You did?”
“Tallon!” Dominic called, gesturing to the waiter for another round of blood cocktails.
Gregore flinched at the booming sound of Dominic’s voice. Looking directly at me he said, “Vamps. They’re so dramatic.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, suddenly aware of the unease between the two of them.
Gregore sighed and looked at Dominic. “You know I can’t keep such a thing from him.”
Dominic shrugged and took a big swig from the bottle of rum on the table.
“What?” I asked.
Tallon brought the round of cocktails on a silver tray and set them on the table. “Anything else, gentlemen?”
Gregore’s eyes stayed fixed upon mine. “I saw Erin in the park … with a man.”
Tallon froze in place, his eyes like bright orbs. “Uh oh.”
Dominic’s fangs protruded in a flash. “Leave!”
The waiter promptly scurried to the next table.
I smiled at the spectacle, though my heart missed a few beats. “Is that all? She’s a student, Gregore. Of course she has male friends.”
He slowly shook his head. “No. This was not the case, my King.”
“Ah, ah,” Dominic interjected said with a frown. “You forget, Gregore, there is no aristocracy at The Blue Moon. We are equal here. Never forget that.”
“Yes, yes. I’m sorry.” Gregore’s gaze snapped back to me. “This man was older. More mature. Something didn’t feel right, so I watched. They sat huddled together, his hand on hers. Then they kissed and rather passionately, I might add.”
I poured a hefty measure of rum into my chilled goblet. Silently, I took in what he had just revealed, all while the spiked blood cocktail bled into my veins like molten lava. “Well, I’m … I’m sure there’s an explanation.”
My mind raced. Up until now, it had never occurred to me I might have a true rival before Erin reached the ripe age of twenty-three.
“You see,” Gregore said to Dominic. “I told you he wouldn’t tear your lovely lounge to pieces.”
No, I wasn’t going to tear The Blue Moon into pieces, but I sure as hell felt like I could the way my blood suddenly heated as though ready to boil.
I raised my chin. “Tell me. What else did you see?”
Gregore leaned in. “I watched for a time. They parted ways after an intimate embrace.”
The Caribbean-style band began to play, and Gregore’s face instantly lit up. “Oh, let’s dance,” he said to Dominic.
I sighed heavily, brooding over my cocktail, contemplating my next move as the two headed for the crowded dance floor.
* * * *
I went to Barnard College and stated I wished to grant the institution a sizeable donation. An hour into the tour of the school, I saw Erin sitting in the front row of a classroom, writing feverishly on paper as the professor spoke. Later in the day, I sat outside, waiting for her to leave.
Erin exited the building wearing an eager smile, her glossy hair pulled back. The indulgent wind loosened her tidy chignon, sending tendrils wisping across her ivory neck.
My breath hitched. How I longed to press my nose against that lovely throat and
breathe in her heavenly scent.
I followed a safe distance behind as she strode in a different direction than usual. She entered an apartment building, and I was left outside wondering with whom she might be visiting.
Two cigars later, she exited with the handsome professor I had seen standing in front of her in the classroom earlier. I tugged the brim of my hat over my brow and yanked up my frock collar.
The pair walked past me, laughing and looking adoringly at one another. My heart sank at the sight of her gleaming eyes and rosy cheeks filled with enthusiasm. I froze, unable to follow them, but I needed not, for they ducked into a hotel a half-block north.
I placed one numb foot in front of the other and made my way to the three-story hotel entrance.
My God. I could only imagine one reason the two of them would enter a hotel together.
I entered the revolving glass door, my heart hammering like thunder. After picking up the newspaper sitting on the entry table, I took a seat in the lobby.
“Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson,” said the hotelier to the couple. “Nice to see you again.”
Again? I peered above the opened newspaper I held between stiffening fingers.
The doughy man behind the counter extended a key. “Room 112.”
Erin offered the man a modest nod, a rosy hue flushing her cheeks.
Once the two left, I approached the gentleman at the counter and asked for a room on the first floor.
He ran his rotund fingers down the ledger. “All I have left on the first floor are rooms 102, 105, and 111.”
My heart jumped. Naturally, I accepted room 111.
Not wishing to be seen by the couple, I waited another ten minutes before venturing toward my assigned room. Once inside, I paced the floor, unable to get a grip upon my bounding pulse. Finally, I sat in the chair next to the bed and listened.
Nothing.
I shook my head violently and shot up from the chair. What the hell am I doing?
I marched to the door and grabbed the brass doorknob. Just then, muffled voices and laughter, coming from behind the wall, filled the silence.