Duke of a Gilded Age (16 page)

Carl’s smile turned sheepish. “I ducked out of dance class every chance I got. Mother was vexed with me, but I didn’t think I’d ever really need to dance.”

“I can certainly use the practice,” Stephen said. “Surely we can find another gentleman who’d like to join in?”

“There’s a piano in the drawing room. We can practice there,” Louise said.

“We should form a dance club,” Belle said.

Stacy clapped her hands in delight. “I was wondering what we were going to do for fun on this ship, particularly since I don’t know much about cards.”

Conversation for the rest of the meal revolved around drafting a pianist, which dances they were to learn, when practices could be scheduled, and who could serve as the extra gentleman.

“Let’s do pick someone good-looking,” Eva said.

“That’s silly,” Stacy said. “What does it matter what he looks like as long as he can dance?”

“There’s always Horatio,” Carl said.

Stacy groaned and Eva closed her eyes.

“Who is Horatio?” Belle asked.

“He’s my nephew,” Carl said. “And he’s a fine lad.”

“Horatio is our younger brother,” Stacy said, exchanging a pained glance with Eva.

“He’s fourteen and an insufferable blatherskite,” Eva said.

“That’s unfair, Eva,” Carl said. “Horatio can’t help that he’s smarter than everyone else. And I must point out that he attends dance class without fail. He’d be an asset to our endeavor.”

“Where is he now?” Belle asked.

Stacy snickered. “He annoyed us on the train from Chicago, so we banished him to the children’s dining hall for the duration of the voyage.”

“
We
did no such thing, Stacy,” Carl said. “That was you and Eva. I say we let him out of purgatory and allow him to join the group.”

Stacy, Eva, and Carl began to argue again. Belle was secretly pleased; as long as those three bickered, they didn’t have time to ask her anything about her grandfather.

As flattering as it was for Wesley to be invited to the captain’s table that evening, he was apprehensive. With his limited experiences, what could he possibly add to the general conversation? Shortly after Captain Howe introduced him, however, he became the center of attention. The way in which Wesley had inherited his title was the topic of much discussion.

“An American duke? How terribly interesting,” Mrs. Stenger remarked. “You must meet my youngest son Carl, my nieces Stacy and Eva, and my nephew Horatio. We’re touring Europe together.”

“I look forward to it, ma’am,” he said.

His poise and manners were praised, and he made a mental note to thank Belle for her tutelage. The remainder of the dinner was quite congenial. Best of all, one of the English gentlemen, Mr. Francis Ley, broached the topic of sports.

“Tell me, Your Grace, have you any enthusiasm for baseball?”

“Yes, Mr. Ley,” Wesley replied. “Sadly, I’ll miss the World’s Championship Series this year.”

“That’s unfortunate. There’s a pitcher for the Cleveland Spiders who recently pitched a three-hit shutout in his major league debut—”

“Cyclone Young!” Wesley exclaimed. “They say he destroys stadium fences with his fastball.”

“That’s the very one! I’m a fanatic for baseball, personally.” Mr. Ley smoothed his thick white mustache with a thumb and forefinger while giving Wesley an appraising glance. “You may be interested to learn that I’m building sports grounds for workers at my foundry in Derby. The central feature is a baseball stadium.”

“I didn’t realize anyone played baseball in England.”

“It’s not widespread as of yet, but perhaps between the two of us we can change that. You’re quite welcome to attend a ballgame when you are next in Derby. Indeed, we’ll have you throw out the first pitch.”

Wesley beamed. “Why thank you, Mr. Ley. That’s very hospitable of you.”

When dessert was finished, the guests began to filter away from the table. Mr. Ley shook Wesley’s hand. “It was a pleasure talking to you, Your Grace. Say, would you fancy a game of chess?”

“I’d be delighted! I know for a fact there’s a set in the library.”

“I’ll meet you there in ten minutes.”

After dinner, Belle lingered in the saloon to wait for Wesley. She’d sent her new friends on ahead to the drawing room, with a promise to bring Wesley with her to the inaugural dance club meeting. Wesley finally left the captain’s table, spotted her, and hastened over.

“I just had the most splendid meal,” he said. “Everyone I met at dinner was very amiable, and thanks to you my manners drew compliments.”

“I’m so glad, Wesley. Mr. Van Eyck, Louise and I made friends too, and they’re waiting for us in the drawing room. We’ve formed a dance club!”

“I can’t go just now. I promised to play chess with Mr. Ley. We’ve a lot in common, he and I.”

Wesley’s face shone with eager anticipation. Belle covered her disappointment with a smile. “Oh…that sounds wonderful, Wesley.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all. I’ll just go on ahead then. Perhaps you can join us later?”

“Absolutely.”

Crestfallen, Belle watched Wesley leave the saloon without a backward glance.

Chapter Eleven

Dance Club

T
HE
E
ARLIER
P
ITCHING
A
ND
R
OLLING
of the ship had finally given way to a gentle rocking motion by the time Belle entered the drawing room. The skylights overhead were dark, but in ten hours or so the space would be flooded with sparkling sunshine. The windows that afforded an ocean view during the day were at night covered by sliding mirrored panels that lent the room a festive atmosphere. Red velvet ottomans lined the walls, and a pretty bay window looked out over the saloon.

Stacy was playing a waltz at the upright piano angled in one corner. In the center of the spacious, carpeted room, Eva and a slender young man were moving awkwardly together in a semblance of dancing. As Belle watched, Carl came to stand next to her. “That’s my nephew, Horatio,” he whispered.

“Eva, I feel like I’m pulling you around like a sack of potatoes!” Horatio exclaimed as the music came to an end. “Keep your weight over your toes and remember to rise and fall.”

Louise noticed Belle just then, glancing expectantly from her to the door and back again. “Hang on, where’s Wesley?”

“He had a prior engagement, as it turns out. Perhaps he’ll join us for our next meeting.” Belle moved toward the piano. “That’s a lovely piece of music, Stacy. I’ve never heard it before.”

“It’s
The Emperor Waltz
by Johann Strauss, published just last year. My music teacher had me play it in a recital this past spring.”

“You play it beautifully…and from memory, too!”

Stephen sauntered over. “Since Miss Oakhurst has arrived, let her and Horatio show us how the waltz is supposed to look.”

“Miss Oakhurst, allow me to present my brother, Mr. Horatio Egermann,” Eva said. “Horatio, this is Miss Oakhurst.”

As Horatio approached Belle and bowed, his burnished blond hair fell over his brow like a forelock. “If indeed you know how to waltz, please relieve my suffering and consent to dance with me, Miss Oakhurst.”

Eva sighed as she rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.

Belle curtsied. “Thank you, sir.”

Although the lad was a mere fourteen years of age, he was already over six feet tall. Horatio led Belle to the center of the floor, and Stacy began to play
The Emperor Waltz
from the beginning. As Horatio and Belle waltzed together, she discovered the young man was an accomplished dancer. They moved around the room, careful to avoid colliding with ottomans or onlookers. Horatio’s icy expression thawed, replaced by one of genuine enjoyment. When the last note faded, Belle and Horatio released their hold. Amidst applause, he bowed once more and she responded with a curtsy.

“That truly
was
a pleasure, Miss Oakhurst,” Horatio said.

“I thank you, Mr. Egermann.”

Carl stepped forward to clap his nephew on the back. “You really were paying attention in dance class, weren’t you? Well done.”

Stephen held his hand out to Belle. “It’s my turn.”

Stacy selected
Tales from the Vienna Woods
from the sheet music available, and began to play. Whereas Belle’s dance with Horatio had been light and innocent, Stephen’s demeanor was entirely different. The intimate way he looked at her as they danced brought a blush to her cheeks wholly unrelated to the physical exertions of the waltz.

“I can hardly compete with that,” Carl muttered when the dance ended.

Horatio frowned. “Nor I.”

“I distinctly recall you saying you were out of practice, Stephen,” Louise said.

“Dancing with Miss Oakhurst must have inspired me,” he replied.

His smoldering glance left Belle flustered.

“You’re a dreadful tease, Mr. Van Eyck,” she managed. “Stacy, let me spell you at the piano. I don’t play as well as you, but I can manage something simple.”

Stacy stood, and Belle took her place. Before Stephen led Stacy to the dance floor, he leaned down to whisper in Belle’s ear.

“I was perfectly serious, as you are well aware.”

A delicious shiver went down her spine, but Belle pretended not to have heard him. Her attention focused on the keyboard as she warmed up her trembling fingers with a few chords.

Mr. Ley moved his bishop and sat back. “Checkmate, sir.”

Incredulous, Wesley stared at the chessboard. Although he was desperate to rescue his king, there was no escape to be found. Finally, he extended his hand across the table to shake his opponent’s hand. “Well played, Mr. Ley. I’m fairly certain I’ve never been beaten so quickly before, nor so soundly.”

“It was a good match, Wesley. The turning point came, however, when you left your queen unprotected. You allowed my bishop to distract you.”

“I admit that was a stupid move. I’ll be more careful in the future.”

Mr. Ley stood. “I take my leave, but I enjoyed the evening immensely. Perhaps you can find some young people with whom to pass a pleasant interlude until bedtime?”