Words Spoken True (5 page)

“Never too busy for you, madam,” he said as took the old lady’s hands. When she held up her cheek for Blake’s kiss, he caught a whiff of perfume that reminded him of roses beginning to wilt.

With the obligatory kiss out of the way, she stood back and looked at him knowingly. “But you bring the odor of the riverfront with you.”

Blake looked down at his clothes in embarrassment. “I do apologize if I’m offensive.”

“No, my dear boy. You could never be that. I rather like the breath of fresh air you bring into my parlor, and I must confess that I guessed about the riverfront. I read of the latest tragedy in your newspaper this morning.” She took his arm and led him across the long parlor. “Come, sit with me and tell me all about it.”

He followed her meekly enough, glancing around a bit warily to see which young lady was bearing down on them.

Mrs. Wigginham noticed him surveying the room and laughed softly as she perched on one of the settees and patted the spot beside her. “Do sit with me a moment.” Once he was seated, she went on, an amused smile lingering in her eyes. “I regret you’ll have to pick your own young lady today. I did plan for sweet Mary Sutcliffe to entertain you with her charms, but alas, her mother sent word Mary was not quite herself this afternoon.”

“That is regretful.” Blake remembered sweet Mary Sutcliffe from other occasions and felt no regret at all. She was a vapid little girl of a woman with a nervous giggle and a clinging hand he was never able to escape once she’d placed it on his arm.

“Perhaps you could call and leave your card so she will know you missed her.”

“Perhaps,” Blake said with a noncommittal smile. “But now you have my undivided attention, so please tell me about this latest cause of yours.”

“Oh my dear boy, please. You make me sound like one of those Northern reformers who take up their causes.” She held up her hands as though to ward off his words before picking up her folded fan to tap a slim volume of poetry on the table beside them. “I’m only attempting to interest the local citizenry in expanding the library’s book collection.”

“Of course. A very worthy endeavor and one that seems to have considerable support, especially among the ladies.” Blake glanced out at the people around them and then back at the woman beside him.

“I’ve found our local ladies sincerely eager to help broaden the interests of the community in proper ways. I do hope your newspaper will see fit to join in support.”

“You need not worry on that account, Mrs. Wigginham. The
Herald
stands ready to support any worthwhile community activity.”

“I never doubted that.” Mrs. Wigginham smiled and laid her hand on his arm. “Now don’t think you have to dance attendance on me. You can go capture one of the young beauties.”

“I fear none of them are as entertaining as you, dear lady.”

“You have a silver tongue, Mr. Garrett, and you should be ashamed, using it on an old lady like me.” She laughed with pleasure. “But please don’t stop.”

Blake managed to hold his smile in place. Underneath all those layers of social fluff was a shrewd old lady who knew more about the people of Louisville than anyone else was ever likely to know, and most of the time he enjoyed talking to her. But there were times when he wearied of the social games.

A stir at the door caught his attention. An odd hush fell over the double parlors for just a second as a new couple entered before a buzz of whispers circled the room.

“Our couple of note today,” Mrs. Wigginham said. “It’s supposed to be a secret, but everyone here has already heard they plan to announce their engagement this evening. They do make a lovely pair, don’t you think?”

Blake didn’t answer. His eyes were still on the girl in her rather plain reddish dress. There was something different about her as she surveyed the room quickly, her eyes resting for a moment on Mrs. Wigginham but passing almost without notice across him. When she turned to allow her escort to help her off with her cloak, her dark hair spilled carelessly down her back as if she hadn’t had time to properly arrange it. The man spoke into her ear, and the girl pulled up a smile that looked somewhat forced as they turned to face the people.

“She’s beautiful,” Blake said.

He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until Mrs. Wigginham looked at him with raised eyebrows. “So she is. But I fear young Stanley Jimson has gotten rather more than he bargained for when he bargained for our dear Adriane’s hand in marriage. And his mother has quite taken to her bed.” Mrs. Wigginham’s smile became a chuckle. “The whole situation is just too delightful.”

“Stanley Jimson?” Blake watched the man tucking the girl’s hand under his arm. He’d met Stanley, a pale shadow of his father, Coleman Jimson, who was being advanced as the Know Nothing candidate for state senate. Coleman Jimson had come to the
Herald
early on courting Blake’s support. Blake hadn’t trusted the man then and nothing he’d seen or heard since had caused him to change his mind. But he was treading softly. Coleman Jimson was a powerful man with an army of friends, and Blake wanted to have his facts rock solid before he took him on in the paper. He had time. The election for state senator was not until August.

“You surely know Stanley.” Mrs. Wigginham was taking obvious delight in sharing every detail with Blake. “He’s at all the socials, quite the life of the party if the ladies can talk him into playing the piano for them.”

“I’ve met him, but not the young lady with him.”

“You’re impressed.” Mrs. Wigginham’s smile lit up her eyes as she touched her lips with her handkerchief. “The first woman in Louisville to impress you turns out to be none other than Adriane Darcy. This is getting more delightful by the moment.”

“Darcy?”

“Oh yes, my dear boy. Wade Darcy’s beautiful, opinionated daughter. The volumes I could tell you about that girl and the unorthodox way Wade has raised her. They say she’s been setting type since she was ten, and was never properly educated. I doubt she even knows how to do needlework or play the piano.”

“I suppose young Stanley can do that. Play the piano, I mean.”

“Now, Mr. Garrett, don’t be naughty.” Mrs. Wigginham reached over to give his arm a little shake as though to upbraid him before she went on, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Stanley is a very sweet young man. Always gallant, especially to his mother.”

“Who is not so happy over the upcoming union, you say.”

“I surely didn’t say that. You must have misunderstood, my dear boy,” Mrs. Wigginham said with another pleased laugh. Her hand tightened on his arm. “Oh look, they’re coming over to speak to me. I’ll be able to introduce you properly.”

The little woman’s eyes were sparkling and color bloomed in her cheeks. Blake thought she looked ten years younger than she had when he came in. “You planned this whole thing, didn’t you?”

“Why, I’m sure I don’t know what you could mean, Mr. Garrett, but of course I wanted Adriane to come. She writes such wonderful notices of my little benefits. You should really read them to get some pointers.”

“That sounds like excellent advice,” Blake said as he started to stand up. “And now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get us something to drink.”

“I’m not the least bit thirsty, Mr. Garrett, and I would think you’d enjoy meeting the competition.” Mrs. Wigginham kept a firm hand on his arm to keep him from making his escape. “It is whispered that our sweet Adriane writes half of what appears in the
Tribune
. While that is shocking to be sure, it also makes her rather interesting, don’t you think?” Mrs. Wigginham leveled her eyes on him as she went on without waiting for an answer. “Now do be a good boy and allow an old lady her fun.”

A
driane could hardly believe her eyes when she looked across Mrs. Wigginham’s parlor and saw the man who had grabbed her down at the riverfront that morning. It couldn’t be, but there he was. Staring directly at her. Her heart began pounding madly as she fought the urge to flee back out the front door before the man could recognize her.

She might have lost the battle and run like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight if she hadn’t caught a glimpse of herself in one of Mrs. Wigginham’s many mirrors. Her breathing slowed as her panic receded. In spite of his sharp eyes, the man would hardly make the connection between the ragged Irish boy he’d grabbed in the dim light of the streetlamps and the picture of a lady she presented now. And what did it matter if he did? No one would believe him even if he were ungentlemanly enough to speak of it.

She lifted her head a bit defiantly, but did not look in the man’s direction in spite of the way she could practically feel his eyes burning into her. Perhaps it had nothing to do with her early morning visit to the murder scene but was simply because she looked so out of place in her dark cranberry dress among all the pastel skirts of the other young ladies. He looked as out of place himself in the same rumpled suit he’d had on that morning, but it wasn’t just his unpressed coat. It was more that he seemed too large for the room, as though he’d had to corral his energy in order to play attendance on Mrs. Wigginham.

Adriane had the crazy desire to raise her eyes and meet the man’s brazen stare directly to challenge his memory. Saner thoughts ruled. She kept a polite smile firmly on her lips and pretended not to notice him at all while Stan helped her off with her cloak.

Yesterday she might have whispered to Stan to ask who the man might be, but today everything was changed. Stan was no longer simply a convenient escort but the man she was to marry. As Stan handed Adriane’s cloak to the servant, whispers frantically circled the room. Adriane kept her smile firmly fixed on her face even as her heart sank. It was more than obvious that their pending engagement was far from a secret.

Her head high, Adriane pretended not to notice the curious stares as she crossed the long parlor to greet Mrs. Wigginham. Stan kept Adriane’s hand tucked tightly under his arm as though he feared she might try to escape him.

Oddly enough, Mrs. Wigginham seemed to be holding on to the man by her side as if fearing the same thing about him. In fact, the man did appear anxious to escape as he began to rise from his seat beside the old lady. All around the room, Adriane noticed young ladies poised, ready to rush the man whenever Mrs. Wigginham removed her hand from his arm.

If she did. Adriane looked directly at Mrs. Wigginham. A happy flush of red spread across her cheekbones and her eyes sparkled as though she’d just discovered a potion to recapture her youth.

There was no denying the man was handsome, Adriane thought, as she slid her eyes quickly past him again. Black hair curling across his forehead. Eyes almost as dark. Skin that showed he was outside in the weather a lot. A dark moustache that surprisingly sprouted a few red hairs. A mouth that seemed to want to curl into a smile but did not. Broad shoulders stretching the material of that wrinkled coat. He was not the typical guest at one of Mrs. Wigginham’s afternoon functions.

Yet everyone else in the room, including Stan, seemed to know him. In fact, Stan muttered under his breath as they crossed the room, “What is he doing here?”

She might have asked Stan for information then, but she felt the eyes of the assemblage too strongly on her. An odd feeling of charged expectation seemed to be radiating in the air. At first Adriane had thought it was the knowledge that her engagement was supposed to be a secret until the announcement that night, but the closer they got to the man and Mrs. Wigginham, the surer she became that the tension had something to do with him. It was almost as if everyone in the room knew of their moonlight encounter and was practically holding their breath, waiting to see what might happen next.

Adriane decided she would not give them the pleasure of seeing her show any kind of shock or surprise, no matter what this man said or did. Already his manner was quite brazen as his eyes continued to bore into her. For the briefest second she allowed herself to look directly at him. A spark seemed to sear the air between them, almost as if they shared some kind of familiar bond. But that was foolish. Adriane quickly averted her eyes. She had no idea who he was, and their encounter that morning hardly made any sort of bond between them. Even if he did recognize her.

“Mrs. Wigginham.” Adriane ignored the man who had risen to his feet as she leaned down to speak to the old lady. “It is so good of you to open your house for such a worthy cause. I’m sure all the patrons of the library will greatly benefit from the added volumes that will be donated as a result of your efforts.”

“How kind of you to say so, Adriane. And so good of both you and Stanley to come to my little gathering when I know you must have many plans to make.” Mrs. Wigginham smiled over at Stan before returning her eyes to Adriane.

Adriane kept her smile firmly in place even though her heart sank a bit at the woman’s words. “Plans? I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Mrs. Wigginham.”

“Now, Adriane, you needn’t pretend with me. We all know your delightful little ‘secret.’” Mrs. Wigginham looked at Stan again. “I have to admit I was beginning to wonder if you were going to be able to capture her, Stanley.”

“I never had any doubts.” Stan sounded smug as he glanced at Adriane before looking back to Mrs. Wigginham to trot out his best manners. “And it’s always a supreme delight to come to one of your events, my dear lady. My mother asked me to extend her regrets on not being able to attend today. As you say, there is much to plan.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Wigginham agreed easily. “I’m sure it will be the event of the year.”

Adriane listened to them, her smile firmly fixed on her face. It was growing more and more difficult to believe she could somehow change her father’s mind about this marriage being necessary. Especially with the whole town practically already invited to attend the ceremony before she was even consulted. A fluttery finger of panic tried to edge back out in her mind, but she shoved it away from her thoughts.

She could hardly give in to panic right now, not with Mrs. Wigginham watching her so closely. And it wasn’t only Mrs. Wigginham’s eyes on her. The man beside the woman continued to stare at Adriane without the first hint of politeness. She glanced over at him coldly, her smile gone for the moment as Adriane decided to take matters into her own hands. If the man recognized her, so be it.

“I beg your pardon, sir. I fear we have not been properly introduced.”

“No, indeed, we have not,” the man said with the beginnings of a smile that showed he knew much more about Adriane than she knew about him. “But we mustn’t cheat dear Mrs. Wigginham out of the pleasure.”

Mrs. Wigginham laughed delightedly. “Oh, do forgive me, Adriane. It appears I have been lax with the social niceties, but I assumed the two of you were already acquainted.”

Adriane tore her eyes away from the man to look at Mrs. Wigginham. Could the man have already revealed their meeting that morning? No, she thought not, for Mrs. Wigginham didn’t look shocked, only amused.

Mrs. Wigginham rose from the velvet settee to touch Adriane’s arm as she made the introductions. “Dear Adriane, this is Blake Garrett. Mr. Garrett, Adriane Darcy. Mr. Garrett is the new editor of the
Herald
, as I’m sure you’re aware, Adriane.”

Red spread across Adriane’s high cheekbones as her eyes flashed back to the man beside Mrs. Wigginham. No wonder the old lady was having so much fun. Adriane glanced over at Stan. He could have warned her. A whisper as they were crossing the floor wouldn’t have been too much to ask.

With effort, Adriane managed a polite smile. “How nice to meet you at last, Mr. Garrett. I have to admit I was beginning to wonder if I had a smudge on my cheek, the way you were staring at me. It’s a relief to know it’s only because I am from the enemy camp.”

“Dear Adriane, you do say the most wicked things.” Mrs. Wigginham’s smile lit up her whole face.

Adriane hadn’t seen the old lady this animated since the rumor had gone around town that the mayor’s wife was leaving him. And it seemed she was not through with her fun for the day. She took Stan’s arm and leaned heavily on it. “My dear boy, would you mind helping an old lady over to the table? I do need to be sure the refreshments are holding out.”

When Stan looked from Adriane to Blake, Mrs. Wigginham quickly said, “Don’t worry about the two of them. They no doubt would enjoy a few minutes to get acquainted, and I think we can trust them not to duel in my parlor.” She began moving off with Stan in tow. “Now do tell me all about what sort of event your mother is planning for this evening. Perhaps there would be some way I could help. If not tonight, then with some other event. A tea in Adriane’s honor might be appropriate, don’t you agree?”

Stan, used to doing his mother’s bidding without complaint, let Mrs. Wigginham lead him away with no further resistance. Mrs. Wigginham was the one who looked back at Adriane, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“You have to admire a hostess who enjoys her parties,” Blake Garrett said.

“Mrs. Wigginham is a dear.” Adriane had a polite smile firmly in place again as she looked up at him. She had wanted to meet Blake Garrett for weeks, and now she’d had two encounters with him in one day. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Mr. Garrett. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“I daresay some of it should not be repeated.” A smile broke over his face and practically exploded from his eyes, which were much bluer than she had at first thought.

Adriane’s knees went a little weak just from the power of it, but she pulled herself together. It had been a busy morning, and she had forgotten to take time to eat. That surely had more to do with her weak knees than Blake Garrett’s smile.

Even so, there was no denying he was handsome. And not at all what she had expected. He looked more like one of the daring riverboat captains rather than an editor. But then most of the editors she knew were her father’s age or older.

Acutely conscious of the scrutiny of those around them, Adriane laughed lightly before she said, “You’re staring again. I’m still not sure there’s no smudge on my face. It wouldn’t be the first time, I regret to say.”

“Nor the first time some man stared at you because you’re beautiful.”

“Not usually so boldly,” Adriane said.

“I must apologize, Miss Darcy. I admit I’m often too bold for proper manners, but I find it can be an advantage in the newspaper profession, don’t you agree?”

“I’m sure my father would.” Adriane kept her voice light. “I am more of the opinion that boldness is important in any profession a gentleman might choose.”

“And how about for the ladies?”

“I rather fear that boldness for the ladies is limited to a daring neckline or a hint of paint on one’s cheeks.” Adriane carefully lowered her eyes and pretended a blush. She knew she should hate this man. Loyalty to her father demanded that much. But everything about him intrigued her. Surely she could hate him more effectively once she knew him better, and as Mrs. Wigginham said, they could hardly duel in her parlor.

“In the North, a few of the ladies are becoming much bolder than that. A few are even speaking out for women’s rights.” His voice seemed to be trying to challenge her.

“Yes, I’ve seen the articles in the papers. We rarely reprint them because Father is of the opinion that our city is not yet ready for such radical thinking.”

“And what is your opinion, Miss Darcy?” He sounded sincerely interested.

She searched for a safe answer, one that would be honest yet not shock anyone who might be eavesdropping on their conversation. It would not be a good day to start a controversy in regard to the rights of women. Today it seemed the only right she had was the right to be glad a socially proper young man desired to marry her.

She quickly scooted her thoughts away from Stan and smiled at Blake as if they were discussing nothing more important than which spring flower should be her favorite. “I believe a young woman should have the same opportunity to be educated as a young man.”

He peered down at her as though her answer surprised him. “Correct me if I am wrong, but aren’t there a dozen young ladies’ academies in this city alone?”