A Scandalous Deal

by Joanna Shupe

  He hadn’t proposed marriage, but that generally followed a courtship, and marriage meant she’d never have a career of her own. She’d forever be Mrs. Phillip Mansfield, wife of the wealthy and powerful hotel developer. Any project she undertook would need approval from him. Approval! As if she were chattel, incapable of making her own decisions.

  No, thank you.

  Besides, she’d tried courting three times with disastrous results. Why attempt a fourth go-round?

  They entered the park at Miner’s Gate, off East Seventy-Ninth Street, then headed north along the drive. Shaded footpaths twisted and turned through the rocks and fields, green stretched out as far as the eye could see. A few other riders were enjoying the near-empty main drive, as well as some cyclists, but otherwise the space was quiet. Birds could be heard all around them, their morning song loud and strangely soothing.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Nora said, maneuvering her horse alongside Eva’s. “Were you out late?”

  “No. I arrived home before you, in fact.” Nora had been with her husband all evening, not returning until well after midnight. Eva had still been awake and had heard the carriage pull up.

  Her friend sighed. “I swear, leaving him only grows more and more difficult.” They nodded at a passing rider, a man dressed smartly atop a glorious black stallion. “Speaking of difficult, how are you coming along with Mrs. Mansfield’s design?”

  “I’ve made some rough sketches. I have a good idea what she wants, so it shouldn’t take long to complete the traces.”

  “And how are things coming along with Mr. Mansfield?”

  There was no use in hiding it. Nora would drag it out of her at some point anyway. “He asked to court me. Properly.”

  Nora maneuvered her horse around a divot. “And what did you tell him?”

  She gave a dry laugh. “That I had no interest in anything serious—with him or anyone else.”

  “Eva!”

  “It’s true. I’ll never have any sort of career of my own if I marry him. I’ll go from being E. M. Hyde’s daughter straight to Phillip Mansfield’s wife.”

  “It’s different here. Women are allowed slightly more freedom—”

  “It’s not that much different. I would still be overshadowed and dismissed outright. My money becomes his, not that I have any currently but I will one day. He’d have all the rights and I would have none. Besides, people would always wonder if I had been hired because of my husband, not my talent.”

  “Nonsense. Once they saw your brilliant work no one would dare question your abilities.”

  “You are kind. Misguided, but kind.”

  “And you are impossibly stubborn. What if you find yourself with child?”

  Eva’s jaw fell open, her breath catching in her lungs. “How did you . . . ?”

  “Please. It was written all over your face the other day when we had tea with Kate and Anne. Where is he taking you, a hotel?”

  “No, he bought a town house.”

  “Clever bastard,” Nora muttered under her breath. “So what, you’re content with being his mistress?”

  “I’m not a mistress. It’s an affair, not a financial transaction.”

  “Semantics. Again, what happens if you conceive?”

  “Shh.” Eva glanced around them, ensuring no one could overhear. “Must you bring that up?”

  “Yes, I must. I hope he is taking precautions with you.”

  Eva said nothing, merely straightened her shoulders and tightened her grip on the reins.

  Nora growled, scaring their horses into sidestepping. “Good God, I really want to strangle that man. How dare he be so careless with you! And why on earth would you put up with such behavior?”

  “It was only twice. He’s been careful ever since.”

  “Oh, only twice. Well, that absolves him of any wrongdoing.”

  “Your sarcasm is noted, Lady Nora. And I do not need you approaching him again, taking him to task. Promise me you’ll stay away from him.”

  “I cannot do that.” Nora lifted her chin. “I only have your best interest at heart. I fear he’s taking advantage of you. He’s your employer. Can you not see the gross imbalance of power between you? He holds your future in his very hands—both personally and professionally.”

  Phillip did not wish her harm, Eva was certain of it. But sometimes people could be hurt regardless of good intentions. “I started my courses this morning, so there’s no reason to fret about a baby.”

  “What about the rest of it? Your reputation, your safety on the construction site? Your heart?”

  “As I’ve said, he has offered to court me. And my heart is not at risk.”

  “Bollocks,” Nora said and started her horse forward once again. “You may force yourself to believe that drivel but you cannot convince me. Not after the other day.”

  What on earth had she done to give her feelings away during that tea? “Fine. I care for him. It hardly matters as nothing will come of this relationship. He’ll never forgive me for lying to him. Once he learns the truth about my father, he’ll never speak to me again.”

  “If he loves you, he will understand your reasons for lying.”

  How Eva wished that were true. “No, he won’t. He abhors liars. He was angry enough that I was here in my father’s stead. I can’t imagine what he’ll say when he finds out I’ve posed as my father all along.”

  “You’re so talented. If he cannot see that, then he is not the man for you.”

  “I do hate lying to him. Some days I want to just blurt out the truth so this awful guilt will go away.”

  “Perhaps you should. Perhaps Mr. Mansfield would surprise you.”

  “With how quickly he discharged me? No, thank you. I think I’ll continue the lie for a little longer.”

  “And how long do you intend to continue lying?”

  She rubbed her chest with her gloved hand. “I thought I would write to him from London with news that my father is too ill to travel. Then I shall offer to see the project through until completion.”

  Nora’s expression turned dubious. “And you actually believe that will work?”

  It had to work. There was no other choice. She kicked her heels into the mare’s sides. “Let’s circle the reservoir. I want to explore the park, not depress myself even further.” She raced off, leaving Nora to catch up.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Phillip entered the Gotham Club at midday, the neo-Renaissance entryway tasteful and discreet, a mere hint of the luxury awaiting inside. Soft lighting hung from crystal chandeliers overhead, the staff quiet and efficient as they assisted with overcoats, canes, and hats.

  An attendant opened the door and Phillip went inside. At one end, the grand staircase—twin sets of marble stairs angling toward a common landing before diverging in opposite directions—dominated the main floor. Stained-glass windows overlooked the space, the colors reflecting off an intricately carved wooden ceiling. He’d always loved the imperiousness of the space.

  Grasping the ornate iron railing, he climbed the stairs to the third-floor dining room. Gilded accents adorned red velvet-covered walls along the way. The frescoes and plaster carvings lent a baroque feeling, with molding and inlay each way one turned.

  He wished Eva were here to see it. She would love the tiny details no one else noticed, the craftsmanship that appeared so effortless in the finished product. Both of them knew, however, the work that went into a space such as this. It was the same sort of talent he’d soon see inside his New York hotel.

  That line of thought reminded him of the other night. He hated the way she’d left, the conversation that went round and round with no resolution. He hated no resolution.

  Just so we are clear, I am not interested in marriage. Ever.

  He hadn’t even proposed and she’d already rebuffed him. Why? Clearly, she did not oppose marriage in general. After all, the woman had three betrothals in her past. So what had those three men possessed that he did not? More charm? Be
tter looks? More money? He hadn’t ever envied a dead man before now.

  It was time to contact her father. Ill or not, the man needed to get on a steamship. The sooner E. M. Hyde arrived, the sooner he and Eva could arrive at some understanding about their future. Perhaps her father could talk some sense into her where Phillip had failed.

  In the dining room he was greeted by an attendant and led to a square table on the far side. Mr. Hall rose and thrust out a hand. “Mansfield. Thank you for coming.”

  “Hello, Hall.” They shook and Phillip lowered himself into a chair. “Nice to see you.”

  They placed orders for drinks and the waiter suggested the chef’s fish special for lunch, to which they both agreed. When they were alone, Phillip let Hall steer the conversation, since he knew the direction they were headed and was in no hurry to get there.

  “How is your mother?” Hall asked.

  “Full of vim and vigor. She’s in Newport now, tending to her garden and indoor plants.” And lamenting the lack of grandchildren, no doubt. Phillip’s sisters were not visiting this summer, one remaining in Chicago and the other traveling in Spain with her family. Perhaps he should pay a visit to his mother, who’d been suspiciously silent since his refusal to allow construction on the cottage.

  “Mrs. Hall is anxious to return as well. What is it with women and the ocean air?”

  “The same could be asked of men and their yachts.”

  Hall chuckled. “Too true. By the way, I have a new yacht this year. Sixty-five feet. She’s a beauty. You should come down, take Becca for a sail.”

  “I’d like that,” he said, not committing to anything.

  “With my wife anxious to leave the city, I’ll have no choice but to bring Rebecca with us to Newport. I do hope the two of you will continue your association in such a case.”

  “Of course. However, it might be tricky to schedule time away from New York, with the hotel construction under way.” And Eva in my bed.

  Hall placed his crystal glass on the white linen cloth and then folded his hands. “I have no easy way of asking this, so I’ll be blunt. We are anxious to see Becca settled with you. The two of you make a fine match, and I couldn’t ask for a better husband for my daughter. What can we do to move this forward?”

  Phillip sat, momentarily stunned. He’d known this was coming, but not quite so baldly. Clearing his throat, he took a long swallow of wine and debated his answer. He decided forthrightness was called for in this situation. “I appreciate your regard. However, I must be honest. While I am fond of Miss Hall, I do not see a permanent match in our future.”

  The edges of the older man’s mouth turned down, his mustache drooping. “Why not? Has she given you any indication that your suit would not be—?”

  “No, no. Nothing like that. It’s just that I’m not anxious to marry. Your daughter is aware of my feelings on the subject. Perhaps in a few years I’d be willing to reconsider.”

  “My daughter does not have a few years to wait.” Eyes flashing, he leaned in. “You have monopolized her time and made it known you are courting her. Do you think another man will have her now?”

  For Becca’s sake, he certainly hoped not. “Her reputation is intact. We’ve been entirely circumspect in our behavior.” He couldn’t say the same for his behavior with Eva, which had been reckless from the start.

  “Circumspection hardly matters and you know it. Other men will wonder why you never married her.”

  “Your daughter is strong. She will find someone who cares for her, who makes her happy.”

  The older man rocked back in his chair, jaw open slightly. “I cannot believe this. You are actually refusing.”

  “If you thought to browbeat me into marrying her, I am sorry to disappoint you. My mother’s been attempting it for years and I’ve been able to resist her.” And few were as fearsome as Ellen Mansfield.

  “Perhaps I should speak with your mother. Appeal to her sense of societal responsibility.”

  Threatening him with his mother? Really? He lifted a shoulder. “You are welcome to try, but I fear her threats never work on me. Miss Hall and I have an understanding, one that works for both of us at the moment.”

  “What does that mean, an understanding?”

  “Neither of us are keen on making this association permanent.”

  “Yes, but if we allowed young people to marry whom they wished, our society would fall apart. You, better than anyone, know how this works.”

  Indeed, Phillip knew. He’d grown up surrounded by the rules, by the tradition. Had selected the “right” type of girl to marry once upon a time . . . to disastrous results. This go around, he’d settled on an independent British aristocrat, one with ambition and intelligence. One who wanted neither marriage nor courting. A challenge, for certain, but Phillip was persistent when he set his sights on a goal.

  And arguing for a loveless marriage because “that’s the way it’s always been done” was not enough, not in these days of progress and invention.

  Perhaps society needs to catch up with modern ideals, he thought, surprising even himself.

  The cocoon of New York society had always served him well. He’d profited hundreds of thousands of dollars off his contacts and connections, the investors in his hotel projects. The home in Newport, the mansion on Fifth Avenue, his yacht, all the Mansfield properties in the city . . . Much of his wealth and luxury had been derived from this so-called Knickerbocker society.

  But were any of them happy?

  Eva made him happy. When he was with her, he wasn’t focused on the future or his legacy. Not even the family’s standing concerned him. He could lose himself in her, and live in the moment for the first time in his entire life.

  He took a sip of his drink. “I think young people should be allowed to decide their own matches.”

  Hall shook his head as if he’d just been given bad news. “Your mother would cringe to hear you speaking in such a manner. I expected better from you.”

  Irritation swept across the nape of Phillip’s neck like talons. “It’s nothing I haven’t already expressed to my mother many times when she has tried to force me into a match.”

  The food arrived then, the waiters oblivious to the tension between the diners. Phillip rose and tossed his napkin on the table. “I believe I’ve lost my appetite. Thank you for lunch, Hall.”

  “This isn’t finished, Mansfield. You’ve wronged my daughter and my family. There will be consequences.”

  Staring Hall directly in the eyes, he said softly, “You may certainly try, but I wouldn’t advise it.” With that, he headed for the exit.

  He needed to find Rebecca. Fast.

  Joe jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the woman behind him. “Prince, you’ve got a guest.”

  Phillip glanced up from the heavy bag and dropped his arms. He’d kept his shirt on in anticipation of this meeting at McGirk’s, not wanting to embarrass her with his near nakedness. He was happy to see she was on time.

  “Rebecca, hello. Glad to see you arrived safely.”

  It was the middle of the afternoon and he’d asked her to come to the Bowery boxing hall. There was little chance of being recognized here.

  “Hello.” Becca’s wide eyes surveyed the surroundings. “When your note said to meet you here, I hadn’t really expected this to be a boxing hall.” She cut him a look. “Or to find you boxing.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I like the physicality of it.”

  “Why, Phillip Mansfield . . . I do believe you have a wild side.”

  The side of his mouth hitched. That sounded like something Eva might say. Would Eva like to see him box someday?

  “May I try it?” Becca asked, eyeing the canvas bag.

  “Boxing?” She nodded, and he said, “Perhaps in a moment. I need to first tell you about my lunch meeting.”

  Taking her elbow, he drew her into the shadows for privacy. He then related the conversation with her father, during which Becca’s lips compressed tighter
and tighter. When he finished, she appeared visibly shaken. “This is awful. Exactly what we feared,” she whispered.

  “Indeed. However, I can handle myself. I’m worried about you.”

  She inhaled deeply. “As am I. What am I going to do?”

  “Has he hurt you? I don’t like the idea of you staying in that house.”

  “He has not hurt me. But he’s been . . . angry. More irrational than before.”

  He came to a swift decision. “I want to send you away. To Europe. Canada. Wherever you’d like to go, as long as it’s far away from your father.”

  Hope flared in her irises but was quickly extinguished. “I cannot let you do that. It’s too much, Phillip.”

  “I promise you, I can well afford it and I’d much rather give you money to escape than worry about you every day. What does she say?”

  No need to explain to whom he referred. Becca chewed her bottom lip. “She wants to go. She’s worried they will follow through in having me committed.”

  The way her father had acted today, Phillip would not dismiss the idea. “I share that concern.”

  She let out a shaky breath. “I have to admit, I never expected you to be so understanding about all of this. About my . . . choices.”

  He frowned. Was he seen as so staid, then? So inflexible and traditional? He well understood the pressures of society, of familial expectations. But Becca deserved happiness. Just because she’d taken an unconventional path did not mean she should be denied the right to love and commitment. The right to be treated equally—

  Unconventional path . . . Equally. The words rang in his mind like a church bell. Isn’t that exactly what he’d done to Eva, who had embarked on an unusual path herself?

  He hadn’t fully accepted it, this idea that she wanted to be an architect. By offering her his protection, his name, he’d thought to influence and guide her. He hadn’t understood how important it was for her to remain her own person, to retain her individuality. To remain independent.

  Yet he’d accepted Becca, trusted her to know her own mind.