Cold April (10 page)

Kathleen broke the silence that followed. “I wish I had Toby with me. She likes to see everything.”

Beth finally looked down at the child. “I think it’s better you didn’t bring her this time.” She patted her hand, hardly aware that the gentlemen at the table were making introductions. The names buzzed in her ears without meaning, except for the one of the red-headed beauty, Cecily Thornton.

Miss Thornton—her brilliant hair piled high on her head and wearing a gown that showed off a perfect neck and shoulders—spoke in a high-pitched, cultivated voice. “Good evening, Mr. Graham. It is such a pleasure to meet you again. I see you have brought your daughter and her governess, Miss Shallcross, with you tonight. How very nice of you.” Her mouth curved into an appealing smile.

Beth couldn’t speak. She felt a worm of unease form in her midriff. Thoughts galloped through her head as if she were a thoroughbred horse entered in a race. Just the night before, Richard had found his dinner companions, as he put it, “not very interesting.”

The large, portly-looking man next to Cecily spoke in a deep baritone. “Welcome, Miss Shallcross. We’re delighted you could join us this evening. Cecily has only recently graduated from requiring a governess herself.” He guffawed loudly at his own remark.

Others at the table made friendly comments, and Beth felt Richard’s hand touch hers for an instant. “Good evening, Sir Hubert.” He bowed to the ladies.

Beth sat down at last, but couldn’t take her eyes off Cecily, who had claimed the seat on Richard’s left side. How could he not be enchanted by the young beauty? How could any man help but stare openly at her? Yet, after meeting Cecily the night before, Richard had returned to their stateroom and complimented her, Beth, on her appearance and compared her to a stage actress. She felt dizzy and light-headed.

When all were seated, waiters in brass-buttoned uniforms and white gloves presented the first in a parade of courses, and Beth turned her attention to the food. After appetizers, they were served soup, and then courses of fish, fowl, and meat, all accompanied by the proper wines. Finally, vegetables and salad were offered, and then a choice of mouth-watering desserts.

Fortunately, each course presented options, and the portions of food were comparatively small. Because of that, plus the tasting and pouring of the wine in between, much time passed before the meal was over. Beth saw to Kathleen’s choices and didn’t feel as uncomfortably full as she might have, had she eaten so much within a shorter period.

Finally everyone rose from the tables, ladies going in one direction, possibly retiring to the reception room or library, and gentlemen in another. Cecily Thornton, Beth noticed, continued to talk to Richard.

He led her, as well as Beth and Kathleen, to the first-class lounge, where the ship’s orchestra played music from a popular operetta. When the last melody stopped, the musicians picked up their instruments to leave.

“
I shall leave you as well,” Cecily said. “Thank you for a lovely evening.” She smiled and left the lounge.

“
That was a delightful dinner,” Beth told Richard. “I enjoyed the music, too, although it appears the orchestra is finished for the night.”

“
I believe they play a concert on A Deck after dinner every evening. Would you like to listen to them? I understand a glass enclosure at one end keeps it from becoming too windy or cold.”

“
I’m afraid it’s well past Kathleen’s bedtime. I’ll take her to the stateroom and put her to sleep. But you should go or perhaps join the gentlemen heading for the smoking room.”

“
I don’t smoke, remember?” He took Kathleen’s hand to lead her and Beth from the room.

Beth felt ambivalent about the arrangement. Once again, with the little girl’s father at hand, she would be acting as if she were the mother, a touching tableau of loving parents putting their child to bed. However, thanks to Richard’s admission that she was a governess, many already knew that was not the case. Any dreams of earning that place had just receded. The beautiful young lady would make a more suitable wife for Richard. She was not only attractive and well-educated, but titled as well. Beth’s cheeks grew warm and the tingle in her stomach returned. Why would Richard—or any man—be satisfied with marrying a commoner, when beautiful and wealthy ladies were available?

Chapter 9

“
If you don’t mind,” Richard said, “I’d like to change out of this monkey suit that fashion requires me to wear. Perhaps you’ll want to change as well.”

“
That’s an excellent idea. Do make yourself comfortable. I must put Kathleen to bed.”

“
Afterward, join me in the sitting room for coffee and a liqueur.”

Beth helped Kathleen into her nightdress and tucked her into the canopied bed, Toby in her arms. She didn’t change her own clothes. Propriety required her to be correctly dressed for the evening. Later, she would put on her night clothes, but only when she was ready to go to sleep. Besides, after meeting Miss Thornton, she worried about her growing feelings for Richard.

Leaving the connecting door open, so she could hear Kathleen if the child awoke, she entered the sitting room. Richard wore a smoking jacket over his white shirt and had tucked an ascot into the collar.

“
I had thought,” she said, scrambling for a topic of conversation, “you’d like to play cards with the other men.”

“
Not a bit of it. For Bridge, one must have a partner and, since I don’t know any of the men who are also without partners, it would be awkward.”

Beth smiled. “That sounds more like an excuse than a reason. I believe finding a partner is an accepted beginning to the game.”

He gestured to a chair and she sat down. “Perhaps I’ll teach you to play Bridge one day and then you’ll be my partner.” When Beth didn’t comment, he shrugged. “Meanwhile, I’d rather talk to you.”

She wondered how she should react to what she considered a changed situation. Yet, Richard didn’t seem any different. He acted and spoke to her just as he had before, as if Cecily Thornton didn’t exist. Very well, she would do the same.

“
And I you. You started to tell me something about yourself last night. I should be happy to learn why you’re not a smoker when so many gentlemen are these days.”

He frowned. “An article in Harper’s Weekly says smoking is addictive, besides being unhealthy. I had no interest in acquiring what might become an expensive habit.”

“
I’ve read that, too. Personally, I’m pleased that, so far at least, few women have taken it up. I would hate to have to follow such a fashion.” Suddenly, she wondered if Cecily smoked.

He smiled. “Frankly, I would find it unbecoming. It’s not very attractive when men do it, for that matter.”

“
So you didn’t start, except for that one instance you mentioned.”

Richard poured coffee into demitasse cups. “Yes, I became violently ill and, since my family was quite poor, I saw no way I could afford to buy tobacco of any kind.”

“
How old were you?”

“
Twelve, I believe. We lived on a farm in southern Illinois, what they call ‘down-state’ because the large city of Chicago is in the northern part.”

“
I’ve seen many maps, and I know that, although they call the area ‘the Midwest,’ Illinois is almost in the middle of the country.” She sipped her coffee. “What sort of farm did you have?”

“
The usual for that time and place; we kept dairy cows and raised pigs and chickens to sell. We also grew a lot of corn, most of which we also sold.”

“
I believe keeping a farm is hard work.”

He chuckled. “Fortunately, I had four older brothers who did most of it. Being the baby of the family, I didn’t have as much to do; although, I certainly learned all aspects of farming.”

“
Does your family still own the farm?”

“
Yes, my eldest brother is now in charge, however. He’s very knowledgeable and has added modern innovations.”

“
But you chose to do something else.” It was more of a statement than a question. How could Richard have attained the position he now held if he’d remained a farmer?

“
Like Abraham Lincoln—who came from Illinois, as you may know—I loved to read and wanted to go to college.”

He paused again and Beth felt he was being modest in not wanting to tell her how he rose in society. “Please tell me more.”

“
Well, my brothers urged me to pursue an education, so they took much of the farm burden off my shoulders. I did my share most days, but in the evenings, I studied. I managed to get into the University of Illinois, and then I worked my way through Northwestern, which had even more to offer.”

Beth rose to put her empty teacup and plate on the table, then returned to her seat. “Thank you for sharing that. Your experience is just one of the reasons I admire your country. No one held you back from attaining your desires. Sheer hard work and persistence—not a wealthy father or an inherited title—enabled you to make your dream of a good education and career come true.” The very thought almost brought tears to her eyes.

Richard moved to a chair closer to hers. “I’m afraid I’ve monopolized the conversation with my story and must sound terribly conceited. You’re very kind to have listened so attentively.”

“
Not at all. It was ...” His sitting so close made her feel warm and lightheaded. She couldn’t let him repeat the flattering things he’d said the night before. After seeing Cecily, she felt she didn’t deserve them. Probably she should leave and return to her own cabin.

“
But now you know all about me and I know almost nothing about you. Except, of course, that you have parents, two brothers and two sisters, and took instruction to become a governess.”

“
I’m afraid that’s all there is to say about my life.” She shrugged.

“
Your life is far from over. You said you admire America because it has no class system.”

“
They haven’t completely eliminated that aspect of life as yet. At least they have no king or queen, no titles handed down through generations, which give their owners privileges unavailable to others.”

“
I agree that’s a very good thing, but there’s more to you than your political opinions.”

“
Not much. As you know, mine is a lower middle-class family. I’ve had to work to support myself.”

“
No doubt you’ve contributed to your family, as well.”

“
That’s the only thing I regret about living in America permanently. If I don’t find a position that pays a salary similar to what Lady Wheatly provided, I shan’t be able to do that anymore.”

“
But do they still need your help?”

“
They say they don’t, but ...”

“
But you feel obliged to do so anyway.”

She grinned. “I suppose I do.”

After a pause, Richard replenished their coffee cups and offered her a liqueur, which she declined.

“
I’m not accustomed to spirits. The wine at dinner was more than I usually consume in a month.”

“
Are you afraid you’ll become intoxicated?”

“
It’s possible, and I should hate to do something that would cause me embarrassment tomorrow.” She finished the minuscule amount of coffee and placed her empty cup on the small table at her side.

He leaned in very close, so close that she could see flecks of green in the blue of his eyes. “I doubt you could do anything that might result in such an outcome.”

“
But we don’t really know, do we? So I think it’s best if I stop before I reach that stage.” For a moment, she feared she had already attained it, because she felt extremely warm, even though Richard had not turned on the room’s electric fireplace. Could it be the wine she’d already drunk at dinner, or was it Richard’s presence, the smell of his after-shaving lotion or his distinctive cologne? A longing to be kissed swept over her. What would it feel like to be in his arms, to have his smooth firm lips on hers?

Setting his glass down, Richard pulled her from her seat and stood so close, she thought he must feel her heart beating through her dress. Time seemed to stand still, and she suddenly hoped it would never resume.

Gently, he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and, using his other hand, traced the outline of her lips with a fingertip.

She felt a pulse beat in her throat, and her breathing become deep and intense. Just as quickly, her common sense and her upbringing flowed into her consciousness.

She edged away from him. “I fear my coming into your sitting room has given you the wrong idea.”

“
The idea you and I would be alone and ...?”

She dared not put into words the thoughts that vaulted into her mind. “Yes. I didn’t ...”

“
Of course not. Such an outcome never entered my mind.” He moved away from her then, turned toward the doorway for a moment, then looked back at her. “You’re a beautiful woman, a “desirable” one—if I may use an American expression—but I would never take advantage of this arrangement. I’m sure the White Star line expects you to use this sitting room the same as I do.”

“
Of course.” Her voice quavered with nervousness. “However, the shipping line is of no concern to me. I’m more interested in behaving correctly in polite society.” Still, she found herself unwilling to leave him, to walk through the connecting door and lock it behind her. That is, if she felt it necessary to protect her virtue to that extent. She trusted him to behave like a gentleman, as he always had.