My Dear Miss Dupré, page 25
Someone knocked into his shoulder, and Cullen turned to find a guest dressed as a colonial highwayman in a mask, broad-brimmed hat, and a wooden model pistol in his belt. Cullen waited for the man to beg his pardon, but instead he simply stared at Cullen and tilted his head to the side door of the ballroom before weaving around courtiers, a swan, another Queen Elizabeth, and several pirates toward the exit. Seeing Theodore in his possessive stance beside Willow, Cullen slipped away unnoticed, keeping the highwayman in his view, who made his way up the grand staircase to the third floor where Cullen found himself in a makeshift forest of sorts, with palm trees, brilliant magenta flower-covered vines, and orchids filling every space.
Cullen’s fists curled at his sides, his right bumping into the wooden sword at his belt. The build of this man was nothing like that of Agent Flannery, who never would have sought such a public place for a private audience. “Show yourself.”
The highwayman appeared between potted palms on Cullen’s left. “You betrayed me. And those who betray me will pay their forfeit.”
Cullen’s shoulders tensed. Is he speaking of my trip to the warehouse with Willow? Or does he know about my involvement with the Pinkertons? “Wellington. What do you want?”
“What I’ve always wanted—your loyalty.” Wellington’s eyes narrowed behind his mask, and Cullen could see the heat of his anger radiating through his grimace.
“I’ve given you what you’ve wanted.”
He held up a gloved finger. “You gave me one pathetic hint of a factory and yet I still gave you the gift of time, and this is how you repay me?”
Still uncertain as to which betrayal Wellington was referring, Cullen laughed. “Are you going to expose my father’s sins to the world and ruin my sister’s chances because I failed in giving you more information?” He rolled his shoulders back. “Your threats are not good enough anymore. Willow taught me that there are more people like her than I was raised to believe, people who will look beyond the sins of my father and judge me and my family on our own merits.”
“Like the merit you displayed by deceiving the city’s darling?” He trilled his fingers against one another. “Society will not welcome you with open arms after a stunt like that.”
Cullen frowned, not liking the man’s pointed truth. He had acted like a cad in the beginning and now he must pay the price. Once more, Cullen prayed that Flannery would allow him to tell all to Willow before it all came out in the papers, and that his and Willow’s relationship would make it through the storm ahead. “Whatever you throw at me for my punishment for not doing your bidding, I will take.”
Wellington sneered and perched on the arm of an oversized velvet settee. “I went to warehouse seven. Where are my goods?”
Flannery moved them? His heart lifted. If Flannery made such a telling move, then surely I can tell Willow any day now. “I’m assuming you’re speaking of the tons of stolen goods that you were keeping there to await relabeling.”
“Who says they were stolen?” Wellington withdrew a cigar and held it to a nearby candelabra, lighting the end and drawing in quick consecutive puffs, bringing the cigar to life.
“Judging from the steady decline in profit of Dupré Sucré’s sales, you’ve had this scheme in motion for quite some time.”
He flicked his cigar, sending ashes fluttering atop Cullen’s leather shoes. “Circumstantial.”
Cullen locked eyes with the man. “Willow knows.”
Wellington’s cigar broke. He sputtered the wet pieces from his mouth. “What did you tell her?” He closed the distance between them before a slow smile pulled at his lips. “The public records will out you in a heartbeat. You just saved me the trouble of exposing your part in all of this, you love-sick fool.”
“I told her the truth—that it was my warehouse, and that it was most likely you behind the theft. What I did not say is that I know how to press men into confessing things . . . things that would leave you rotting in jail.” At the flicker of fear behind the man’s eyes, Cullen grinned. “And now I believe you see that I have the leverage I need to have you leave my family alone and allow me to gracefully bow out of your command. I will, of course, finish paying my debt to you, but I wish to have no further ties with you regarding the competition.” Cullen turned on his heel to seek out Willow.
“You won’t ever be done with me!” Wellington shouted after Cullen as he took the stairs two steps at a time. “Ever!”
Twenty-Two
Willow stifled a yawn, the clock on the Vanderbilts’ mantel in the dining room chiming two o’clock in the morning. A footman removed her soup bowl, a note appearing on the golden charger that she had not noticed before. She looked over to see if Teddy had one, but as conversation was moving to the left, his head was not inclined toward her, and Cullen had mysteriously disappeared during the final quadrille. He had missed his dance with her and had not yet returned, though he had requested to be her partner for dinner. Fritz, seated across from her, sent her a questioning look over a floral arrangement before the lady beside him in a Joan of Arc costume of white china crepe that shimmered with fleurs-de-lis over solid-silver chain mail began speaking to him once more.
Willow slid her finger under the seal and unfolded the note.
Tonight you must select
The suitor who is correct,
Or the one to whom your heart belongs since first sight
Will be destroyed the morning of your wedding at first light.
Willow jerked her head up to see if anyone had noticed her read it. Is this a jest? But all those about her were absorbed in their conversations. She read the note again, flipping it over. If it was a jest, it was in poor taste. She studied the fine penmanship, frowning. Archie is no doubt overplaying his hand again. Even still, her hand trembled as she moved to place it in her pocket before remembering that her costume did not have pockets like all her other dresses.
She crumpled the note in her fist and glanced around the table before dropping it under the tablecloth to the floor and ripping it to shreds with her silk slipper, wishing she could burn it. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if she shouldn’t have left the note intact under the table in case one of the servants happened upon it and, seeing her place card directly above on the table, concluded that one of her beaus was in danger and then alerted the police. Well, it would serve the writer of the message right if he were thrown in prison for such a cruel jest.
“I am so sorry,” Cullen said, returning to his seat. “I was pulled away during the quadrille by an old business acquaintance with a message for me, and when I returned, I found I had missed the opening dance and then was surrounded by a group of mothers and their daughters as dinner was being announced, and I barely escaped. What did I miss?” Looking at his empty charger, he gave a sigh. “Obviously the soup. I wait all night for a meal and then I miss it because I was trapped by husband hunters. Tell me, who serves a meal at two in the morning?”
Willow handed him an extra bread roll she had saved for him. “Hopefully this will stay your hunger pains until the next course.”
“Was the soup delicious?” he asked after swallowing a mouthful of bread.
Willow patted her waist. “Oh yes. I overheard Mrs. Vanderbilt saying it was prepared by the chefs from Delmonico’s. Did your friend keep you long?”
“Not really. But like I said, I kept getting stopped by mothers and their daughters.” He frowned at his plate as he finished off the roll.
She ignored the thought of socialites throwing themselves in his path. “Was the message urgent?”
He waved a hand dismissively. “Not as important as missing our first dance of the evening and a meal from the best restaurant in New York beside my lady, I can tell you.”
“Well, you really should not disappear without telling me where you are going and when you will be back.” Not when I am receiving notes like this. She swallowed back her rising tone.
“Is the fair queen worried about her Lancelot?” He reached for her hand beneath the tablecloth.
“Well, Lancelot was the knight Guinevere favored most.” She returned his jest with a weak smile, attempting to keep the note from ruining her mood. She had received threats before and had handled them, although this was the first one in regard to her beaus.
“I’ll have to thank your mother with a gift for allowing me the honor of being the one the queen loved most. Dare I take that as a sign as to which knight she would choose for her daughter?” He gestured toward Fritz. “Poor fellow had to resort to being Sir Gawain. Most have no idea of his part in the Round Table.”
Willow giggled and almost chided him that he should not take it as a hint, and yet her mother never did anything by chance. She glanced to Teddy, thoroughly engrossed in his conversation with Flora, who was dressed as a fairy queen in a filmy blush gown with gold embroidery. She made Teddy the king . . . her preference is evident. “I know she was deliberate in her choice.”
“Then that makes this cumbersome chain mail and these itchy leggings quite worth it.” He winked at her.
She lowered her voice, leaning toward him. “While I am loath to change the subject, we have only six days left until the crowning.”
He nodded, his expression somber. “I am well aware, which is another reason I am so sorry for keeping you waiting.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you . . . why did you agree to join in the competition?” Just then the next course arrived, a delicious-smelling chicken stuffed with butter and herbs that made her mouth water despite her serious question to Cullen.
Cullen nodded his thanks to the server but didn’t bother lifting his fork and knife. “I’ll admit that while my initial motives were not pure, the moment I met you, everything shifted in my heart. And all thoughts of saving my family and my business, though still important, were not as important as you.”
Her heart thudded at his confession. “Why? What could I have possibly said or done to bring about such a drastic change?”
His hand once more found hers under the tablecloth. “It was your heart. I had heard of you, of course, before the competition. About how you were a calculating business-minded woman, and I am afraid that I assumed it must have been true if you were still single with such wealth tied to you.”
That stung. She reached for her crystal glass to hide the pinch in her expression.
“Yet throughout that first night, I saw that you were kind to all, even those who were rather odd and ungentlemanly. And then, throughout this journey, I’ve seen the woman behind the rumors. You are gifted in business, but you have your faults.”
She stiffened. This was not going as she had intended.
“The important thing, however, is that once you see that you are in the wrong, you own up to it.” He ran his thumb over her hand. “You are lovely, inside and out. And fortune or no, any man would consider himself blessed to have you as his partner in life.”
Willow lifted her lashes to meet his ardent gaze.
“Now, you must allow me to ask you something.” He leaned toward her. “Why did you give me the first crown?”
She felt her cheeks flush and cleared her throat. “I say, the chicken will be too cold to eat if—”
“Please.”
She exhaled and folded her hands, whispering so low that Cullen had to lean ever closer to hear her. “Because you intrigued me. A giant of a man who loves to dance. A man who is not from my usual circle but was invited to court me. A man who displayed confidence even when admitting to me that his business nearly failed, which means you had more experience than most men who simply inherited their fortunes or were given a successful business.” She picked up her fork and knife, more to give her hands something to do than to eat. “And yes, I’ll admit, I was taken by your looks. But there is a good heart in you, Cullen Dempsey, and I do not wish to see the last of you.”
He grinned, but before he could respond, the conversation turned. Relieved to set aside the heaviness of the previous topic, the rest of the meal finished in a flurry of conversation with Teddy until soon Willow found herself being led by Cullen to the dance floor at long last.
“I have missed dancing with you.” He turned her seamlessly in time to the Viennese waltz.
“As have I.” She loved being this close to him as they glided silently around the ballroom floor with the crowd looking on. Cullen’s question had awakened her to the fast-approaching deadline that had been lost in the blur of preparing for the ball. Following the ball, though, nothing would keep her from the glaring reality that was time.
If he would only confess his love for her, she knew she could end the competition at once. What was taking him so long? Maybe he’s not attracted to me? He said she was “lovely,” but that didn’t mean he was attracted to her. She knew she wasn’t a great beauty like Flora, but Willow had hoped Cullen would fall in love with her by now. But, remembering their kisses, she knew that lack of attraction couldn’t be it.
If she had to choose today, she knew Cullen would be her instant choice, yet was passion enough for a marriage? Certainly they had enjoyed wonderful conversations together, and she greatly relished her time with him exploring the warehouse . . . and his kisses, but did she know him as well as she thought she did? Enough to gamble her business, her very life? And then there was Teddy, a man she knew from years before. And dear Fritz, who had taken her heart by complete surprise . . .
Lord, help me make the right choice come Saturday.
“You act as if you will never see her again.” Theodore slapped Fritz on the shoulder, but the chain mail made the action sting his palm and did little to wake Fritz from the stupor he had been in since dinner.
“You are one to talk. You were seated beside her, with me across,” he mumbled, leaning against the doorframe and watching Willow dance with Cullen again. “Joan of Arc never ceased her constant flow of questions even when the conversation turned, so I only caught parts of Willow’s conversation.” Fritz wiped at his brow with the back of his hand, wincing as the edge of the chain mail caught his forehead. “Joan was nice enough, but I am feeling the pressure of the final ceremony.” He gestured toward Willow, laughing in Cullen’s arms, whirling past them. “Don’t you feel as though she is slipping away from you? And with her, your future happiness? Why aren’t you in a panic like me?”
Because I know Willow shall pick me in the end. She may not be completely in love with me, but I know she does love me. He adjusted the sword on his belt that kept twisting to his backside. “She doesn’t know Cullen well enough to pick him.”
“She knows him as well as she does me, and that has me in a frenzy.” He pulled at the collar of his costume, revealing an angry red line at his neck. “And this chain mail is chafing me.”
“Take a deep breath,” Theodore said, glancing sideways at the Robin Hood character and his Maid Marian who were staring at them, whispering away to each other. “You are drawing undesirable notice.”
Fritz scowled. “By all means, let us not show any undesirable traits when the woman I love is falling for someone else right before my eyes and kissing another behind my back.”
“How romantic that this process is working.” Flora approached in a cloud of soft pink, her golden and diamond-flecked wings sparkling in the candlelight.
Theodore bowed to her. “Care for a dance?” Without waiting for an answer, he swept her onto the dance floor, thankful to get his mind off Fritz’s troubling observances.
“I hardly think dancing with another woman will help your case, Teddy,” she teased. “You should know by now that your every action will be written about in tomorrow’s papers.”
“My apologies, but I had to escape from Fritz. I do believe he’s cracking.” He clicked his tongue and tapped the side of his head.
“The situation is enough to drive any young lover to madness.” She shook her head, sending her curls to bobbing beneath her floral crown. “I don’t know if I would have had the stomach to endure what she has put you all through.”
“The thought of having her hand at the end of all this is the only thing that has kept me going.”
She tensed under his hands. “You are confident then that she will choose you?”
“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”
At the end of the polka, Theodore did not tarry once he left Flora to distract Fritz. He wove through the guests to where Cullen had led her away from the suitors. “Will!” he called over the crowd for fear he would miss catching her. “Will!”
Nearby, ladies tittered behind their fans, but instead of parting for him, they drew closer, blinking their lashes at an astounding rate and arching their backs in such a way as to draw attention to their assets. He craned his neck to see over the ladies, calling desperately one last time for Willow when a hand grasped his shoulder.
“My king?” Willow grinned up at him, pulling him onto the dance floor for a slow waltz as the ladies groaned, murmuring how all the good men were taken by Willow’s competition.
“Thank goodness you found me. The ladies here are relentless, and Fritz is positively overwhelmed with the timeline . . . even more so than me, which is hard to imagine.”
“You are feeling overwhelmed, as well?”
“Of course. We only have until Saturday for you to make up your mind regarding whom you are going to marry on Sunday.” Teddy inclined his head toward her, his expression subdued. “Can I ask you a question that has been burning inside me?”
“By all means, Teddy. You know you can ask me anything.”
He guided her around a couple, who had fallen out of step with the rhythm. “If you don’t know at this very moment who it is you are in love with and wish to marry, how on earth will you know by Saturday? And if you do not know yet and decide the morning of the final laurel ceremony, how is the man you choose going to know that you chose him because you love him and not because he is the one you fancied most that day?”
