Katie Rose (12 page)

“Is something wrong, Auntie?” Jennifer asked, genuinely concerned. She had become very fond of Eve, and it troubled her to see the old lady looking so wretched.

“It’s just my headaches again,” Eve whispered, as if even that nominal sound was too loud. “I’ve been to my physician, but he said there is little that can be done. I thought I’d go up to my bed and lie down.”

“Maybe I can help.” Jennifer rose to stand beside her Aunt. “I used to rub Father’s head when he was ill. He got headaches also, you know. He always said it worked wonders.”

“He did? No, I wasn’t aware of that. If you wouldn’t mind, dear, my head aches so much I can hardly stand.”

Jennifer assisted her aunt to her bed, helping the old lady loosen her stays and remove her boots. When she was propped up on the pillows, Jennifer stood behind her and began to gently rub her temples, allowing the warmth
from her fingertips to penetrate her aunt’s head. Gradually, the lines of pain eased from Eve’s face, and color began to return to her skin. Her cheeks, which had been dull and pale, became pink, and her withered mouth curved upward in a smile.

“Jenny, that feels wonderful! However did you learn such a thing?”

Jennifer smiled, continuing the massage. “Father used to say I had the angel’s touch. It always helped his headaches, and his arthritis. I don’t know how it works, but it does.”

Penelope entered the room, smiling as she saw her aunt’s beaming countenance. “Come in, dear!” Eve said. “The most wonderful thing has happened. Your sister cured me of the most dreadful headache ever!”

“I know. Jenny’s always had that ability. I used to go to her whenever I had an ache or pain.”

“She’s remarkable! Why, she’s better than any physician or magnetic healer I’ve ever seen!”

At her words, Jennifer glanced up at Penelope, who returned her look as inspiration dawned. Jennifer finished the massage, gratified to see her aunt slip into a peaceful rest. Grinning with barely contained excitement, the two sisters crept downstairs.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Penelope practically sparkled.

“Good Lord, I don’t know why we didn’t think of it before! I’ve always been a decent masseuse, but I never thought to parlay my talent this way! Magnetic healers are all the rage. Vanderbilt goes to them all the time, as does Jim Fiske! We can make so much more money, meet more prominent people, and pick up additional clients all at the same time!” Jennifer rubbed her hands together gleefully.

“Now we just have to figure out how to get the word out,” Penelope said thoughtfully. “I suppose we could post notice in the newspapers.”

“No.” Jennifer dismissed the idea quickly. “All the charlatans do that. We need something more public, a place where we could meet men. They are actually more open to magnetic healing than women are, and it would do our séance business good to get more male clients.”

Penelope snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it! What about the stock market?” When Jennifer turned a puzzled look toward her, Penelope rushed to explain. “Remember, the calendar? Gabriel goes to the market every Friday, as do most other wealthy businessmen. We can set up there and show off your talent! In the meantime, we can attract Mr. Forester’s attention as well!”

Jennifer broke into laughter. Where there was a will, there was a way. And the Appletons certainly had the will.

The New York Stock Exchange was a madhouse of old wealth, newly rich upstarts, brokers, and financiers. Ticker tapes clicked the numbers while brokers shouted “Buy!” or “Sell!,” grabbing up stock shares and dumping them surreptitiously. Men swore horribly, rubbing their whiskers in agitation as they lost out on a stock, while others cheered with excitement as the prices climbed higher. Outrageously wealthy men manipulated the numbers for their own advantage, while others sought to follow their movements and accumulate their own wealth in the bargain.

Cornelius Vanderbilt dismounted his buggy, giving his horses a fond pat before entering the den of thieves. Though sick and elderly, the commodore couldn’t stay away from Wall Street, and neither his religious wife nor his seventy-eight years could convince him to do so.

Today he walked slowly into the stone building, emerging from the ever-present shadows and hobbling like an elderly clergyman. His white hair blew in the wind, and his arthritis troubled him terribly. Conventional society
still snubbed him, so he’d married a woman who was accepted everywhere. Yet being at home alone with her was more than he could endure. He needed the market, with its frenzied activity, to remind him that he was still alive.

He entered the male bastion along with many of his acquaintances, prepared to play the market, have a few drinks, and smoke cigars. What he wasn’t prepared to see was three beautiful women creating a sensation on Wall Street.

Jennifer, Penelope, and Winifred stood off the main trading floor, surrounded by curious men. Clad in simple navy blue walking dresses devoid of any artifice, they appeared businesslike and practical, while their charm and beauty was noted by all. Penelope spoke gently to the voyeurs, obviously in her element, while Winifred kept a close watch on the strongbox before her. Jennifer stood behind a seated gentleman. Her eyes were closed, her hands rested on the man’s shoulders, and a strange energy seemed to come from her slender form.

The market mayhem went on as usual, but between breaks, others gathered round to watch. Moaning, Jennifer rolled her eyes, emitting a strange, eerie sound, while her hands maintained contact between herself and her patron. The old man seated before her initially appeared amused, but as Jennifer closed her eyes once more and hummed, his expression turned to wonder.

“I can feel it! Lordy, I can feel something!”

“Jennifer is a magnetic healer,” Penelope explained as the men pressed closer. “She channels her own energy into the client, allowing his body to use her own healthy vibrations to aid in the healing process. Jennifer is like a battery—her right hand is the positive, the left negative. It’s really quite simple and very scientific.”

The man in the chair rose, then stretched his limbs before him. His face brightened, and a huge smile curved beneath his beard.

“She’s right! My joints feel better than they have in ages! Bless you, missy!” The grateful man placed a few dollars in Winifred’s hand, then, on second thought, a note. “Stock tip,” he winked. “I’m a broker for Hoffman and Clews on Broadway. If you ever decide to invest, let me know.”

“I’m next!” a portly man shouted, elbowing his way through the crowd. “I have a stiff neck, and I could use a pretty lady’s hands on it! In fact, I have something else that’s stiff, and maybe we could discuss that!” He leaned closer to Penelope and leered, while she wrinkled her nose and waved away the whiskey fumes with distaste.

Winifred stood before the chair, giving the man a stern look. “Sir, we are not prostitutes or women of ill repute. We are ladies, established here in New York society. My sister is prepared to share her healing talents for the benefit of all, but let me make our motives clear. We are here to help heal, that’s all. My sisters and I will not be addressed with disrespect.”

Stunned, the second man muttered an apology, while the one that had been “cured” turned around, ready to defend the women. But there was no need. Winifred’s personality had a force of its own.

The commodore, observing this phenomena, tapped his way through the throng. Men parted for him, allowing him to walk freely to the clearing and approach the three women. He took the chair, obviously pleased at the thought of ministrations by these angelic healers.

“Do your best, ladies,” he said, grinning. “My bones are aching. If you can make me feel better, it will be well worth your time.”

Penelope gave him her sweetest smile, and Jennifer began the performance once more. The commodore, who loved women almost as much as he did the railroad business, enjoyed himself mightily as Jennifer laid her pretty,
white hands on him and Penelope whispered encouragements. The crowd gathered even more thickly as one of the wealthiest men on Wall Street submitted to Jennifer’s magnetic healing.

Gabriel walked into the trading room and handed his hat and stick to a porter. He’d been planning to buy some shares in a few emerging businesses, looking to balance the fluctuations in the marble business with additional investments. He glanced through his notes, then scanned the room, looking for his broker.

Then he saw them. Gabriel’s mouth dropped and he couldn’t believe what his eyes told him was truth. Jennifer was standing behind Cornelius Vanderbilt, her eyes closed, her face knotted as if struggling with something. Lovely Penelope stood next to her, a radiant flower in the midst of chaos, while practical, intelligent Winifred removed a gold pen from behind her ear and scribbled on a notepad.

He’d lost his mind. It had finally happened. The visions he’d been having of Jennifer had become hallucinations. There could be no other explanation for what he was seeing—until Charles Howe came to stand beside him. His friend’s expression mirrored his own.

“What in the hell are they doing here!”

Gabriel ran his hand though his hair in agitation, too stunned to speak. As the commodore rose and flexed his muscles jubilantly, the crowd roared. He swung his arm around Penelope and gave her an appreciative squeeze, then he turned to Jennifer. He lifted her hand and kissed it regally, as if addressing Queen Victoria herself.

Gabriel opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it once more. Outrage swept through him as another man took a seat. This one looked young and healthy, and the only thing he seemed interested in was the opportunity to have a beautiful woman put her hands on him. Gabriel’s face flushed crimson as Jennifer’s pretty fingers sank down into the man’s cravat and her eyes closed once more. He remembered
her face after that one moment of insanity when he’d kissed her … she wore that same, dreamy expression now.

Jonathan Wiseley stood before them, sipping the dregs from his coffee, his expression astonished. “You’ve got to hand it to them, don’t you? Who would have thought the Appletons so bold as to pull a stunt like this one? Good Lord, there’s Fitzhugh from the
Times
. This will be all over New York by morning!” He put his cup aside, ignorant of the dangerous tension that raged in the two men. “I think I’ll go make their acquaintance. I could use a little energy healing myself!”

Jonathan walked off and Gabriel flexed his hand, as if debating whether or not to plaster the man’s face with it. Charles seemed almost as incensed as himself, for his normally placid companion shook with impotent fury.

“Wait until I see Miss Winifred Appleton alone. I’ll certainly call her on this one. I’m half tempted to drag her out of here this minute. Good God, look at the men around them!”

Gabriel didn’t have to look. His own anger overwhelmed him, and he shoved his papers into his trouser pockets. “You won’t have to say anything to Winifred,” Gabriel gritted. “I know who the real culprit is here. Excuse me while I have a word with Miss Jennifer Appleton.”

Gabriel stormed toward the girls, listening to the murmuring of the men. Although many of the comments were respectful, there were a few crude remarks and wagers on who would be the first to get the full healing treatment from the Appletons. Their words burned his ears as he shoved through the crowd to get closer, aware of the mounting tension and excitement. To his astonishment, Jonathan’s prediction proved correct, for he heard the reporter interviewing Penelope.

“Can you tell us where your offices are? Are you ladies
really brokers or energy healers, as you claim? Has the commodore given you any tips?”

Penelope answered the man blithely, while Jennifer continued with the healing. Another satisfied customer stood up, paid out his money, then tried to kiss Penelope, who playfully slapped him away.

Blood pounded in Gabriel’s ears as Jennifer’s eyes opened. To his gratification, they widened when they saw him, and, if he had to analyze their expression, appeared a little uncertain. She turned toward her sister as if to warn her, but Penelope had already spotted him and seemed delighted.

“Mr. Forester! I thought that was you. How wonderful to see you! Surely you aren’t in need of Jennifer’s talents? We would be glad to make special arrangements for a friend!”

He was too furious to respond. He ignored Penelope and, glaring at Jennifer, clamped a hand over her wrist and dragged her from behind the chair into an adjoining office. Before she could utter a word, he kicked the door closed, effectively shutting out the protests from the men on the floor.

“You have no right!” Jennifer began, but her own voice trailed off into a frightened silence as Gabriel stepped toward her, backing her up. Her bustle hit the wall and with his hands on either side of her, Jennifer was trapped. She looked up into his eyes and the expression she saw made her swallow. Hard.

“I have no right!” Gabriel glared at her. “What right do you have to come in here, pretending to heal people with your hands, for God’s sake! As if such a thing could happen!”

“It does happen!” Jennifer said hotly. “It is well known that magnetic healing works. Evidently, the commodore thinks so.”

“Miss Appleton.” He spoke through clenched teeth,
spitting out each word with icy emphasis. “I want you to go outside, pick up your things, and instruct your sisters to quietly accompany me to my carriage. There, I will instruct my driver to take you home. Do you understand me?”

Jennifer glared at him defiantly. “No.”

Astounded, he stared into her stormy gray eyes, wondering where this slip of a girl found the courage to challenge him, and why he felt this uncontrollable need to possess her. The fiery rebellion he saw in her only added to his predicament, for somehow he wanted her to rebel, only so he could have the satisfaction of taming her. He wanted to bring her to hand, kiss her senseless, and make love to her all at the same time.

“You aren’t my husband, nor my father,” Jennifer protested, though she didn’t sound as confident as she had a moment ago. “Who do you think you are, giving me orders?”