Unveiled. Part 6

"What do you mean she isn't home?" Christopher stood on the doorstep of the huge wraparound porch and stared at the maid, his bouquet drooping in his hand.

Eileen folded her arms and faced him like a watchdog guarding her home. "I mean she isn't home. I am sorry, sir. Would you like to leave the flowers? I'll make sure she knows you were here."

"But she hasn't been home in days! Is she ill, or away?" Christopher persisted impatiently.

Eileen stared at him regally. "I'm sorry, sir, but it isn't for me to question my betters. Frances Pemberton is not home. Would you care to leave your card?"

"Fine." Thrusting his calling card into the maid's hand along with the flowers, he turned and stormed down the porch steps. After marching out to the sandy road, he turned and glanced back at the house, mentally calculating which room was Fan's. A curtain twitched suspiciously at the far left bedroom, and a cold smile curved on his face.

So that was it, she was avoiding him. Remembering their last night together, he wasn't totally surprised. Fan was probably embarra.s.sed, and was now treating him like he had the plague.

He grinned openly now. Every time he thought about that night he laughed. Fan had gotten more than tipsy-and probably had a colossal headache the next day to show for it. And no self-respecting woman got flushed and treated the town to a delightful rendition of an Irish folk song. But then again, there weren't many Frances Pembertons in Cape May.

If he didn't know better, he would think she was from the Irish wards. But Fan was Fan, a delight to him, a scandal to society. He had never met a woman who was more real, more alive, and so intriguing. He chuckled out loud as he recalled the Misses Mitch.e.l.l asking him pointedly about their outing, hoping to hear something outlandish. Instead he had told them the truth. Fan was simply the most interesting woman he'd ever met, and he was really looking forward to seeing her again.

He frowned as he stared at the house, the curtain still twitching. If Fan had taken it into her head to avoid him, she could easily dodge him for weeks. She hadn't been to any parties in the last few days, had avoided the beach, had even been absent from Bertrice Merriweather's picnic that afternoon. That's when he had decided to take matters into his own hands and demand to see her. But other than barging into the house, he hadn't many alternatives if she chose not to be at home to him.

He had to do something. He was quickly running out of time and money-and couldn't afford to lose either.

"I was so glad that you suggested we get together for tea," Ella Pemberton said softly as Eunice Scott poured her a steaming cup. "I've been wanting to speak with you for some time. I think it's important that we get to know each other."

"My feelings exactly." Eunice smiled, then poured herself a cup. Glancing furtively around the interior of the summer cottage, she hoped that Ella wouldn't notice the lack of rich furnishings, and especially the absence of artwork in the room. But Ella seemed oblivious to the barren walls and was obviously delighted to be present.

"I'm very pleased that your nephew and my niece have become friends," Ella continued. "I've known Christopher for many years now, and have always thought him to be such a nice young man, in spite of what everyone says. I never believed him a gambler for a moment!"

"Christopher's reputation, like that of most men, is greatly exaggerated," Eunice said smoothly. "He is neither as bad as they say, nor as good. But that is a topic I'm sure you are aware of. I think Frances is delightful, and you have my complete a.s.surance that any discussion of her past falls on deaf ears with both myself and my nephew."

"I am very pleased to hear that. "Ella's face softened and she smiled sadly. "Fan has always been the kind of girl who follows her heart. From the time she was a child, there was something so special about her, so touching, that very few people could know her and not be moved. Why, just the other day I wasn't feeling well and Fan insisted on staying with me. She read a d.i.c.kens story, and acted out the parts so cleverly that I couldn't stop laughing. Yet those same qualities make her vulnerable to the wrong people. I fear for her sometimes."

Eunice patted the other woman's hand. "You have no need for concern. I sense there is a genuine affection between Frances and my nephew. In fact, I think he is more than casually interested in her. May I be so blunt as to take you into my confidence?"

Ella looked surprised, but nodded. "By all means."

"Christopher wants to marry Fan, and the sooner the better. To say he is anxious doesn't convey the depth of his eagerness."

Ella's fact lit up and she withdrew a lace handkerchief from her pocket. "I am so happy to hear that! I didn't dare hope, but in the past few weeks they seem to have grown so close!" Ella's smile faded and she gazed at Eunice with obvious concern. "But things haven't been going well recently. I don't know what happened between them, but Fan won't even bring up Christopher's name. And when I've tried to inquire discreetly, even my housekeeper discourages the conversation. I don't know what to make of it all."

"I know." Eunice nodded in agreement. "I've noticed the same thing. Young couples, especially when courting, can often let a little disagreement or misunderstanding grow entirely out of proportion. I know Fan is a sensitive girl, and she may be feeling a little shy around Christopher. Do you know"-Eunice leaned forward as if imparting important information-"that she is no longer home to him?"

Ella gasped. "No, I wasn't aware that it had gotten to that point. I just know that Fan was incredibly happy until recently. Now she stays around the house, doesn't visit much, doesn't even socialize with her friends. I've been so worried, but she simply laughs and tells me not to be concerned." She sighed, then sipped her tea. "The last thing I want is for her to be unhappy here."

"My word, no," Eunice said sharply. "If that happened, she might even be tempted to...leave once more."

"I can't bear to think of it." Ella's wrinkled face grew even tighter. "I can't lose Fan again. Having her back in my life has brought me so much joy."

"I know." Eunice nodded, then hid a smile behind her teacup. "Then I think we have to take matters into our own hands. We've let the young people handle things, and they've only managed to botch up the entire affair."

"You're right," Ella said firmly. "I know Fan has feelings for Christopher. She is cutting off her nose to spite her face, to quote something so vulgar as a cliche. But still, what do you suggest we do? If she refuses to see him, our hands are tied."

"Not necessarily." Eunice grinned. "There are ways to help nature take its course. Even with someone as stubborn as Fan or Christopher." She clanked down her teacup as if she had a sudden inspiration. "Didn't you tell me that the Mitch.e.l.ls are giving a reception tomorrow evening?"

"Yes," Ella said in confusion. "But Fan won't-"

"Let me handle the arrangements," Eunice said confidently. "By the time we're through, this marriage will be a fait accompli. You mark my words."

Katie gently clipped the thorns from the stem of a rose and placed it into her basket. Sunlight poured into the garden, illuminating all of the secret nooks and crevices where morning glories and columbines struggled to bloom. But the soil was perfect for the roses and they unfolded about her, filling the air with a heady perfume.

"There you are, my dear," Ella said softly as Katie glanced up. "Eunice and I have been looking all over for you. I thought I might find you here."

Katie straightened, then forced herself to smile at Christopher's aunt. This was something she hadn't counted on. She had been successful for several days now in avoiding Christopher, but Eunice was something else again. The older woman had a way of peering straight into one's heart, and Katie knew better than to tangle with her.

"Aunt Ella. Miss Scott. I was just leaving-"

"Stay, please," Ella said, her voice firmer than Katie had heard before. "The garden is so beautiful this time of day and we'd welcome your company."

"I really have some things I must see to-"

"Now, Frances, I insist that you remain," Eunice said sharply, though she smiled as she spoke. "You haven't favored any of us with your company for days. You have refused to even see my nephew, you've avoided me, and you're distressing your aunt. Would you mind telling me why?"

Katie gulped, unprepared for the confrontation. "I've...been ill," she said, using the first excuse that came to mind.

"Nonsense!" Eunice declared. "You seem uncommonly fit to me. Now, what is it? Have you decided suddenly to become antisocial?"

Katie glanced pleadingly at Ella, but the other woman seemed as interested in her response as Eunice. Belatedly she realized that Fan probably would have approached things differently and would have spoken to her aunt privately first. Now there was nothing to do but think of something. Fast.

"Well..." Katie shrugged. "I don't want to cause a problem for your nephew," she finished quickly, thanking G.o.d and Fan for the inspiration. "He and I have become friends. And I'm sure you are aware of the...incident in my past?" When Eunice nodded, she continued quickly, "I have no desire to see him embroiled in the same gossip. Christopher has a reputation to consider. I thought it best if I didn't see him for a while. I don't wish to cause him trouble."

Somehow Katie managed to sound convincing. Even Ella paused as Eunice frowned and rapped her cane on the ground.

"Young lady, you know I don't pay heed to idle chatter, and neither does my nephew. Neither of us cares about the scandal. While it is n.o.ble of you to try to protect him this way, I a.s.sure you that Christopher is a grown man and makes his own decisions."

"I appreciate that," Katie said solemnly. "However, I simply cannot allow your kindness, nor that of your nephew, to result in your injury. No, I must remain firm on this point. I cannot see Christopher-it is as simple as that."

Ella looked pained while Eunice grinned, her sharp eyes dancing.

"But, my dear, no one has suggested any such thing. I have not come as Christopher's emissary-in fact, I understand that he is spending a good deal of time in Margaret's company these days. I had come to speak to you of another matter entirely."

Katie nodded, but annoyance filled her. Christopher certainly hadn't wasted any time in finding a new love interest. And Margaret, of all people! Recalling Margaret's vicious comments and snide looks, Katie could just imagine the rest. She probably ran into his arms and was laughing behind her back, sure she had bested Fan Pemberton.

"I want you to come to the Mitch.e.l.ls' reception tonight," Eunice said shrewdly, aware of the impact of her news concerning Christopher. "You see, Charles Pepper has developed an interest in Bertrice Merriweather."

"That's wonderful," Katie said sincerely. She genuinely liked both of them, and the thought of Bertrice finding happiness greatly pleased her. "But how does that concern me?"

Eunice smiled softly. "As you know, the young girl is given to fainting spells, especially if she is within an arm's distance of a handsome young man. Charles may lose patience with her. As her friend, I thought you might give her the courage to proceed."

Katie sighed. Eunice had her there. Bertrice was her best friend in Cape May, and the girl was honestly nice and as sweet as she appeared. She deserved someone like Charles, and he was perfect for her. She owed it to her friend to help her, in spite of her own feelings.

"All right," Katie agreed, ignoring Ella's triumphant grin.

"Good." Eunice nodded. "I knew you wouldn't let me down. Oh, by the way, I do believe my nephew will be present. He will not be alone, but since you don't care a farthing for him, that shouldn't present a difficulty, should it?"

Katie fumed, but there was nothing she could do. As Fan Pemberton, she was trapped within her own politeness and couldn't possibly refuse now without revealing everything. "Not at all," she replied. "I'm certain I'll have a wonderful time."

EIGHT.

"Do you really think he likes me?" Bertrice whispered, glancing toward Charles with a giggle. The handsome young man returned her look with a warm smile, then resumed his conversation with the elderly woman beside her.

"I'm sure of it," Katie said with a grin. "Why wouldn't he? You are the nicest and one of the prettiest girls here."

Bertrice smiled nervously, then straightened immediately as her mother approached.

"There you are, dear. I've been looking everywhere for you. Good gracious, Bertrice, how many times do I have to tell you to stand up straight? You're slouching again. And stop fussing with that dress-you'll mess up the bustle."

Katie winced as she saw the slight confidence that Bertrice possessed a moment ago disappear beneath her mother's disapproval. Bertrice glanced uneasily at her dress, then self-consciously straightened again, even though her posture was perfect.

"I am so thirsty," Katie remarked. "I'd love a gla.s.s of punch, but I hate to walk across by myself. Will you come?"

"Sure," Bertrice answered in confusion. If there was one word that didn't apply to Frances Pemberton, it was shy, and Bertrice couldn't imagine why Fan needed someone to accompany her.

Katie smiled, then led the way. As long as Bertrice's mother lingered near them, shredding her daughter's confidence, Bertrice would never get anywhere. She didn't think that her friend's mother was being deliberately mean, it was just that she was so eager for her daughter to be successful that she tried too hard.

Katie sighed, allowing the servant to pour them each a gla.s.s of punch. In some ways, this society was much harder than her own. There, the struggle for survival came first and social concerns lagged far behind. It was true that most of them managed to find a mate, but it wasn't the primary concern of their lives, nor were the rules so stringent. If a man was interested in a woman, he might bring her flowers, have dinner at her home, take her for a walk through the narrow city streets, and buy her a whiskey at the local tavern.

Here, however, finding the right mate was the number-one occupation of all the young men and women. All of the parties, the receptions, the dances, and the picnics were designed for that purpose. Women were taught how to speak, how to think, how to move and dress. The lines of propriety were carefully drawn and, as Fan Pemberton had learned, could not be crossed.

And for girls like Bertrice, it was agonizing. Katie felt nothing but sympathy for her as she triple-checked her gown and forced a smile. As the only daughter of a wealthy shipping merchant, Bertrice was expected to make a good match, and the pressure was tremendous.

Katie glanced up and saw Charles watching her friend discreetly, then his attention returned to the group of people surrounding him. Katie saw the Mitch.e.l.ls, Eunice Scott, the Drexels, Margaret Chester, and...Christopher.

He was standing close to Charles, and had obviously just arrived. Katie felt her breath catch in her throat as she admitted dismally just how handsome he was. Dressed in a dark suit, his sparkling white shirt a sharp contrast to his hair and tanned complexion, he looked inordinately happy, throwing back his head and laughing at something Charles said.

And on his arm was Margaret. Katie's stomach felt ill as she saw the young woman laugh with him, then pat his arm familiarly when he responded in turn. As if feeling her gaze, Margaret glanced up and gave her a look of such vicious satisfaction that Katie had to fight her Irish instincts and not box her one there and then. A slow smile crept across her face as she envisioned the havoc that would cause, but the expression faded quickly as Margaret indicated the dance floor.

Taking her punch gla.s.s, Katie turned away, her heart sinking. Why did she feel this way? She didn't want him to court her, didn't want his attention, had done everything in her power in the past few days to avoid him...Did she really expect him to stop seeing other women, especially now?

"Fan, are you all right?" Bertrice asked in concern.

Katie nodded quickly, then waved her hand as if overly warm. "It's just so hot in here. I feel like these stays are sticking to my legs. Why can't women dress practically, like men do?"

"I don't think they're much better off," Bertrice confided. "Those high collars look dreadfully uncomfortable." She gasped when she spotted Christopher and turned to Katie in sympathy. "That's why you're upset! I don't believe it! That Margaret is such a snake!"

"She's not doing anything wrong," Katie said firmly. "Christopher can escort whomever he wants."

"But she knows he's courting you! She's just trying to make you mad-look at her face!" Bertrice huffed, indignant. "She knows you're the one he wants!"

Katie glanced over and felt the wrenching inside her once more. Margaret was a snake, a viper, a shrew...but she was a lady. She wasn't an imposter like Katie, a poor girl from the slums. She deserved to have a man like Christopher. She didn't have to worry about being found out, about getting her feelings involved, about being an unwed mother. Margaret was the appropriate choice. Why then did the thought make her furious?

"There's Charles," Katie said, grateful to discover that the other man was alone. "Why don't we go over and talk to him before the dancing starts?"

"I can't!" Bertrice said in a panic. "I would be so embarra.s.sed!" She stared longingly across the room, seemingly fl.u.s.tered at the very thought.

"Of course you can," Katie said decisively. "Besides, I can't let Margaret and Christopher see me standing here like a wallflower. We have to do something quickly."

The tension eased from Bertrice's face as she realized the truth in Katie's words. It was one thing to think about her own fear; it was another when Katie needed her. Ignoring the trembling inside of her, Bertrice squared her shoulders and braved the ten feet across the floor to Charles, giving Katie a rea.s.suring nod. She ignored Margaret as they walked past, and managed to give Charles a welcoming smile as they approached.

"Miss Merriweather! And Miss Pemberton." Charles grinned, delighted with their presence and with Bertrice's bravery. "I'm delighted to see you. You both look lovely tonight."

Katie grinned, then took a step back, allowing Bertrice to move closer. To her delight, the young girl smiled and took the more intimate spot, all the while making sure that Katie was included in the conversation. She was playing the role perfectly, to a.s.sist Fan Pemberton, but in the long run she was helping her own cause, and no one was happier than Katie.

"Thank you, Mr. Pepper. Frances and I were just speaking of women's fashion. I think I missed you at church yesterday. Were you present?"

"Yes, indeed I was. I was seated behind you, but I could see you perfectly. I wanted to ask you to breakfast, but you left before I could."

Bertrice beamed, her face blushing prettily. "Perhaps next week."

Within a few moments the two young people were chatting easily. The dancing began, and Katie found no lack of partners as the word spread that she and Christopher had apparently broken up. Katie found herself the subject of gossip again as the notorious Fan Pemberton was blamed, and more than one curious suitor tried to discover who Christopher's rival was.

Katie smiled and flirted, laughed gaily, and danced until her feet hurt, especially when she saw Christopher dancing with Margaret. Being sought after and pursued was like a balm, and she managed to look like she was enjoying herself. By the eighth dance, even she was exhausted and she excused herself, seeing Bertrice with Charles, and took refuge in the library.

The quiet of the room was comforting, and the cool sea air blowing through an open window felt wonderful on her warm skin. Fanning herself breathlessly, she removed her slippers, aware that real ladies wouldn't have dreamed of such a thing, but she no longer cared. She would never have the things that a real lady would, and had been gifted with gold for as long as the charade lasted. It would burst one day like a soap bubble, and she would have to return to being Katie O'Connor. It was a fact that she couldn't forget.

"I'm surprised to find you alone."

Her heart thudding in her chest, Katie turned to find Christopher closing the door behind him, an odd smile on his face. He glanced toward the floor and saw her slippers, then the skirts that she held aloft in the hopes of catching a cool breeze. Fl.u.s.tered, Katie let her gown drop and indicated the door.

"I came because I wanted to be alone. Now, if you don't mind..."

"Ah, but I do." Christopher stepped closer and Katie swallowed hard, feeling trapped. It was one thing to dodge him at Ella's house, to refuse his calls and his gifts. It was another to be alone with him. She stepped back, aware of the amus.e.m.e.nt in his smile.

"You see, I was concerned about you. Every time I tried to see you, I was told you were ill." He leaned closer and pressed his hand on her forehead. "You seem uncommonly well to me."

Trapped against the library table, she gave him what she hoped was a noncommittal smile. "It must have been something I ate," she said sweetly.

"Miraculous," Christopher agreed, though she saw the smirk in his eyes. "And eight dances! I would say that you've recovered completely."

"It must be the sea air," Katie said innocently, indicating the open window. "I hear it does wonders for the infirm. The salt water is well-known as a cure for many ailments. Why, before I came here, I had all sorts of stomach distress. And now-"

"In about two minutes I'm going to cheerfully strangle you," Christopher said with a grin. "Why don't you just admit the truth? You're embarra.s.sed that you got tipsy the other night and don't want to face me."

"That's not true!" Katie said defiantly. "Just because a woman doesn't care for your company doesn't mean that she's got some other motive."