David handed Joy over to Reese and went back to the train to help Faith and Tempy with their belongings.
Reese studied the child he held. Her hair was different from her mother’s. It was blond and curly, almost white. Her nose was smaller, too, turned up at the end where Faith’s was slim and elegant. But the bone structure was essentially the same. One was pale, one was dark, like a photograph and its negative, but anyone could see the likeness.
Joy squirmed in his arms and yawned. Reese stared at her eyes. They were gray. Identical in color and shape to Faith Collins’ eyes.
Joy looked up at the stranger. She struggled to sit up and Reese shifted his arms to accommodate her wiggling. Her legs locked around his waist and she anchored her arms around his neck. A brush of moisture touched his neck. A red mitten covered her right hand, but its mate dangled across Reese’s chest from a cord sewn to the right mitten. Reese reached up and pulled her right hand from around his neck. Her thumb was red and swollen and wet.
Something tightened in his chest as he smiled at Faith Collins’s little girl. “You must be Joy.”
Joy nodded shyly. “Who are you?”
“My name is Reese.”
“Weese,” Joy repeated, then looked up at him with those solemn gray eyes. “Where’s Faith? Where’s Aunt Tempy?”
Faith stepped down from the train and hurried across the platform. She searched the crowd for several seconds before she spotted Reese Jordan holding Joy. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest and her breath seemed to catch in her throat as she hurried across the platform. She stopped in her tracks and stared at the sight.
Tempy halted behind her niece. “Faith, what is it?” She was alarmed. Faith had stopped so suddenly.
Faith didn’t answer. She stood rooted to the spot, unable or unwilling, to move. She caught her breath as Reese held a tiny red mitten by its cuff while Joy slipped her hand inside.
Tempy followed her niece’s gaze. A tall, handsome man in a black overcoat stood next to a carriage. He held Joy in his arms.
David Alexander moved to stand next to Temperance. He was followed by a porter. “There’s Reese,” he said, waving his hat to catch the other man’s attention.
“So, that’s Reese Jordan,” Tempy murmured. “Come along, Faith.” Tempy grabbed her niece’s elbow and propelled her forward along the sidewalk. “I want to meet this Mr. Jordan.” She glanced at Faith. Her niece’s cheeks were a very becoming shade of pink. Tempy frowned. Her own heart raced a tiny bit faster at the sight of him. The man was definitely a handsome scoundrel. She picked up the pace, taking longer steps, until they stood directly in front of Reese Jordan.
“There she is,” Joy announced to the man holding her. “There’s Faith and my Aunt Tempy.”
Reese looked down.
Faith looked up.
Their eyes met.
She was pale, her black dress was crushed, the front of it hopelessly wrinkled, several strands of hair hung down to her shoulders and a doll was pressed against her breast. There were purple shadows beneath her eyes, but her cheeks were a lively shade of pink, and her mouth, where she had bitten her bottom lip, was a swollen, pouting red.
Reese cleared his throat and quickly turned his attention to the other woman. She was short and slim, like her niece. There was a definite family resemblance, even her eyes were gray, like Faith’s and Joy’s, but the hair peeking out from beneath her black bonnet was a lively shade of red. He smiled at her and his body relaxed.
David made the introductions. “Miss Temperance Hamilton, may I present my cousin and employer, Mr. Reese Jordan.”
Reese shifted Joy onto his left arm and extended his right hand. “It’s a pleasure, ma’am.” Reese was surprised when the warm greeting sprang from his lips. He had been prepared to dislike Faith Collins’s aunt on sight.
“Yes,” Tempy told him, taking his offered hand, “I think it just might be, Mr. Jordan.” Her gray eyes were completely candid and Reese knew instinctively she had been equally prepared to dislike him. Tempy smiled back and unlike, Faith, who stood stiff and tense at her side, Tempy relaxed.
“Let’s get out of the cold.” David suggested, taking control of the situation. He ushered Temperance and Faith into the carriage then climbed in after them. He took Joy from Reese’s arms and waited while his cousin sat down on the seat next to him. Joy wriggled her way between the two men and leaned her head against Reese’s arm.
“Back to the hotel, Murray!” Reese shouted to his driver as the carriage rolled away from the station and onto the busy street.
They arrived at the Madison Hotel thirty minutes later. Reese had reserved the two-bedroom Vice Presidential Suite for Faith and Joy. Their dinner sat waiting to be eaten.
He had ordered a bath for Faith. A brass tub filled with water stood in the center of the dressing room. Steam danced along the surface of the water, then drifted toward the high, plaster, ceiling. A hotel maid waited in a chair next to the tub. She told Faith and Temperance she had been hired for the evening. She was to help Faith dress.
“Dress?” Faith was astonished. “For what?”
“We’re going to a New Year’s ball,” Reese Jordan said. He stood just inside the dressing room door. His back rested against the door frame, his long, legs crossed at the ankles, his arms folded over his chest.
Faith and Temperance turned in unison to stare at him. Faith sucked in her breath at his intrusion, while Tempy gasped at the sheer audacity of the man.
“What did you say?” Faith demanded as soon as she was able to speak.
“I said you and I are going to a New Year’s Eve ball at Senator Darcy’s residence.” He walked over to Faith and lifted her chin with the tip of his finger. His chocolate-brown eyes bored into hers.
Faith thought he was going to kiss her right there in front of Tempy, Joy, and the hired maid. Her eyes closed of their own volition, while her face tilted up a bit more.
“Your bathwater is getting cold.” He let go of her chin and stepped back. “Hurry up. I don’t like to be late.”
Reese turned and walked back to the door.
“I don’t care what you like,” Faith shot back at him, angry at herself for thinking he had feelings. “I haven’t signed any contract. You don’t own me.”
He stopped dead in his tracks.
Faith stood her ground.
The tension was so thick she could feel it. It hung like a storm cloud in the air, energy crackling. Joy bit her lip at the sound of Faith’s angry voice and started to cry. Tempy took Joy’s hand and beat a hasty retreat into the bedroom. The hired maid followed closely behind her.
Reese turned to face Faith, his right eyebrow raised in disbelief. “You’ve signed one. And in addition to that, there is the tiny matter of Christmas and a bank draft.”
“I didn’t ask you to send Christmas gifts.”
“But you did ask me to send money to the Bank of Virginia in your name, if I recall correctly. I have your telegram on my desk.” His normally husky voice was clipped and cutting. He was every inch an aristocrat. As aristocratic as any Virginia planter. “How long do you think it will take you to pay back a salary advance of three thousand dollars? Nine months? A year?”
Faith’s eyes widened with shock at his words. He would be cruel enough to remind her of the job she’d been hired to do.
“Unless, you have three thousand dollars to spare, Mrs. Collins, I suggest you hop into the bath.”
Faith hated him then, for forcing her to face her obligation. She glared up at him, her clear gray eyes as sharp as steel.
Reese gave her his most charming, endearing smile. The smile guaranteed to melt the heart of any number of hostile women. “It’s a party, Faith, we’ll enjoy ourselves.” He felt like a heel for forcing her to attend the ball with him, but how was he going to get someone else at this late date? He wasn’t about to change his plans. “How long has it been since you’ve been to a party?” He opened the door, then checked his watch. “Y
ou have exactly one hour.”
Chapter Ten
One hour. She cursed him under her breath as she stepped into the hot water. She cursed him as she quickly bathed when she would rather have soaked out the aches and pains of the long train ride. And she cursed him for making her attend a New Year’s Eve party when she only had one night left to spend with Tempy. Faith rubbed the sponge over her body with vicious force. He wanted her to attend a party in Washington—a Yankee party in the home of a Yankee senator.
She would stick out like a sore thumb, and she wasn’t in the mood for further embarrassment or humiliation. She didn’t have anything to wear except the black dress she’d just taken off. Was he planning on conjuring up a dress out of thin air? She rinsed the soap from her skin. Leave it to a man like Reese Jordan to overlook such important details—like wedding bands and evening gowns.
“Have the fireworks ended?” Tempy peeked inside the dressing room in time to catch her niece wrapping a towel around her damp body.
Faith nodded, but didn’t answer, nor did she look at Temperance.
“I gave Joy her supper and left her playing in our bedroom. I thought I would take a hot bath when you finish dressing, then crawl into bed. Such luxury!” Tempy sighed dramatically. “I’d forgotten how good it felt to have a maid do everything for me. I could get used to it. I guess it’s a good thing I’m going home tomorrow.”
Faith raised her head and met Tempy’s smiling gray eyes. Her own eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She felt very fragile all of the sudden, very alone. “I wanted to spend this evening with you, Aunt Tempy. Our last evening together.”
“I know you did, my dear, but perhaps, it’s better this way. I don’t want you to go to Wyoming with swollen eyes because we sat up all night crying. Go to this party and tell me all about it in the morning.”
“I don’t want to be humiliated. What am I supposed to wear, Aunt Tempy, my shift?” The words came out in a rush.
“Oh, no, Faith.” Tempy’s soft voice quavered with excitement. “Wait until you see it. It’s beautiful! You’ll look just like a princess. I’ll be able to keep the girls entertained for months by telling them about it.”
“About what, Aunt Tempy?”
“Your ball gown. Faith, darling, Mr. Jordan bought you a ball gown. It’s lying across the bed in your room and it’s perfect for you. The dressmaker had one made up. She’s in the sitting room waiting for alterations. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I had to come in and get you!” Tempy couldn’t contain her enthusiasm. She handed Faith a cotton robe. “Hurry.”
Faith shivered in the cool air as she followed her aunt into the sitting room.
“Come here, my dear.” The seamstress motioned to Faith. “It’s warmer next to the fire.” She held out her hand. “I’m Madame LeClerc. Here are your underthings. Let’s get you dressed. Monsieur Jordan is not a patient man.”
Faith started to protest, but Tempy gave her a warning glance.
A mound of clothing was stacked on the sofa next to the dressmaker. The maid took the top garment from the pile and held it out for Faith. She stepped into pantalets were shorter than the ones she usually wore. The silk, smooth and soft against her legs and buttocks, was decorated with French lace.
Faith sighed reverently. “I’ve never worn anything like this.”
She slipped her arms into a low cut camisole. A dozen tiny pearl buttons ran down the front of the undergarment, and it, too, was made of silk so sheer Faith could see through it.
Madame LeClerc nodded approvingly. “Monsieur Jordan has excellent taste. He likes soft, beautiful undergarments.”
“He selected these things?” Faith asked.
“Who else?” The dressmaker shrugged and handed several more garments to the maid. “Breathe in.”
Faith did as she was told while Tempy laced her corset. It was cut very low in the front and Faith instinctively tugged at the top.
“Leave it alone,” Tempy admonished. “If you tug at it, your dress won’t fit properly.”
Faith sat on the sofa and smoothed a pair of sheer silk stockings over her legs. She slid the satin garters into place and rose from the sofa in corset, camisole, pantalets and stockings waiting for the next layer of clothing and the inevitable hoops. But she waited in vain for hoops that weren’t necessary.
“Now, for the gown.” Madame LeClerc motioned the women forward.
Tempy helped the maid guide the dress over Faith’s head, then stood back to admire her niece.
The bright, burgundy silk shimmered in the light from the fire. The skirt was too narrow to be worn with hoops. The fabric was pulled tight across the front and allowed to fall in elegant folds from small bustle in the back. A two-foot train trailed behind.
The neckline was wide and scooped to frame Faith’s collarbones and breasts. The sleeves were wisps of silk trimmed with silver embroidery. It was a masterpiece of elegance, designed to entice without revealing.
Madame LeClerc adjusted the folds and straightened the train. She whipped out a needle and thread and adjusted the seams along the side to make the dress fit more snugly across Faith’s petite frame.
A knock sounded at the door to the suite. “Ten minutes,” Reese warned.
“Hurry,” Faith urged.
“Let him wait,” Madame suggested. “It does a man good to wait.”
Tempy nodded in agreement with the dressmaker and went to work brushing Faith’s hair.
They took their time, ignoring the unmistakable sound of Reese’s footsteps measuring the length of the hall.
Faith relaxed. She was tired of being rushed. He could leave without her or he could wait like a gentleman.
Reese waited impatiently for twenty more minutes before Faith opened the door.
He noticed her hair first. The straight, black, mane was plaited into one long, fat braid and coiled around the top of her head like a coronet. It was simple yet elegant, and it suited her.
Reese’s brown eyes darkened. He would have liked to see more of her, but she was enveloped from shoulders to shoes in a burgundy, velvet cape.
“We’re late,” Faith reminded him, brushing past him as she stepped through the doorway.
He pulled his gold watch from the pocket of his evening clothes. “So we are,” he commented, as he followed in her wake.
David was waiting for them in the carriage. His satchel was open on his lap, and papers were spread across the seat. The oil lamp beside his head was lit, the wick glowing brightly. He looked up when they entered and nodded a greeting in Faith’s direction. “You look lovely, Mrs. Collins.”
“Thank you.” Faith smiled at him.
Reese glared at his cousin. He sat next to Faith and stretched out his legs, trying hard to disregard the soft lavender scent that emanated from the burgundy velvet.
He shifted his weight away from her and noisily cleared his throat. “What do I need to know?” He directed his question at David, then settled back against his seat and proceeded to ignore the woman next to him.
He focused his gaze on his cousin and seemed to listen intently to David’s summary of the Darcy bill, but his mind was not on politics. Reese Jordan’s sole concern was keeping his body under control while the tantalizing scent of lavender soap conjured up erotic visions of bath tubs and wet, slippery, skin.
The journey to Senator Darcy’s home was mercifully brief. Reese wasn’t sure he could have handled an additional mile. He alighted from the coach before it had rolled to a stop and stood waiting for David to assist Faith. He was just about to ask David to escort her inside when his cousin took the matter out of his hands. With one stern look at Reese, David excused himself to join a fellow attorney and his wife.
Reese reluctantly offered Faith his elbow. “Shall we?” he said from behind clenched teeth.
Faith placed her gloved hand on his arm and allowed him to lead her up the steps and into the house.
The senator’s butler met them at the door.
&nb
sp; Reese deposited the engraved invitation in the butler’s hand. “Mr. Reese Jordan,” the man announced, “and…?”
“What was your husband’s name?” Reese hissed, waiting impatiently for Faith to answer.
Faith didn’t hear him. She was too busy absorbing the sights and sounds in the mansion. She was enchanted by the presence of uniformed maids and waiters carrying trays of drinks. “Champagne,” she whispered, in awe.
Reese turned to look at her. “Champagne?”
“Yes.” She nodded for emphasis. She’d never had champagne and couldn’t wait to try it.
Reese whispered a reply to the butler.
“Mr. Reese Jordan and Mrs. Champ Collins.”
Faith frowned at him, puzzled. Mrs. Champ Collins?
They moved forward. Faith turned her back to Reese, unfastened her cape, and handed it to a waiting maid. Reese had relinquished his hat and coat. He turned to Faith and touched her elbow.
She turned to face him.
The burgundy silk dress fit her like a second skin. It molded the curves of her body, thrusting her hips and breasts into prominence. He liked it because it had none of the flounces, bows, and jet beads currently in vogue. It had been simply made—simply made to torture him, he thought, as he attempted to focus his gaze on something other than her silver-edged décolletage. The neckline was modest compared to some he’d seen, but his height gave him a unique vantage point. It was almost impossible for him to look down at her and not feast on an enticing display.
Reese swallowed hard. Perspiration dotted his upper lip. His body was suddenly hot. He needed a drink. Hell, he needed several!
Gripping Faith’s elbow, Reese led her further into the room where he promptly lifted two glasses of champagne from a passing tray.
“How thoughtful—” Faith began.
He drank them both, then placed the empty glasses on a table. He made the mistake of looking down at his companion when she spoke. He quickly acquired two more glasses of champagne and this time, he downed his in one gulp and handed the second glass to Faith.
“You must be thirsty.” She followed his lead and gulped at the wine, choking when the bubbles tickled her throat.
He grunted a reply.
She managed another swallow of champagne before he removed her glass from her hand. He placed it on a tray alongside his own, then led her across the room to where David stood conversing with another couple.
Golden Chances Page 9