He helped her up the front steps. “What do we do? Knock?
Call the butler?”
She smiled. “We turn the knob, like this,” she said with an
exaggerated movement of her wrist. Generally,” she said when he scowled at her,
“Herman sees us first, though.” She stepped inside. “Oh, there you are Herman.”
Nick followed Star in as the butler, a tall man, about a
hundred years old give or take a decade, closed the door behind them. “Good
morning, Miss. I trust your rowing went well.”
“Yes, except, as I’m sure you’ll see, Nich—”
“Is that you, Star?” Morgan said, coming out of the parlor.
It was all Nick could do to suppress a groan. The last person he wanted to see
was the daughter of the woman he’d just molested on the street. No, the last
person he wanted to see was the
father
. “Good, you’re back. We’ve
received an invitation—Good gracious Nicholas, are you
wet
? You are! Did
the boat overturn? Are you all right?”
“Just damp, ma’am,” he said, as steadily as he could. He
hoped to God that she was enough of a lady not to notice his
full
condition. “I stumbled getting out of the canoe. If you don’t mind, I’ll go
change.”
“Why, of course. You’ll catch your death in those wet
clothes. Herman, send someone up to for Mr. McGraw’s clothing, will you? He’ll
need it cleaned.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that,” he said, avoiding eye contact
with Star. He could feel her watching him.
“I expect you’ll wish for some rest as well. Star can get a
trifle carried away with her rowing.”
She chuckled. “Not in this case. He raced me back from the
bridge and beat me all to flinders, Mother, without having the good grace to
appear even slightly winded.”
“Star!” Morgan said turning to her daughter. “Oh you
didn’t—”
“Excuse me, Morgan, Miz Montgomery,” Nick said. While Morgan
scolded her daughter, he moved swiftly to the stairs, taking them two at a time
to reach the questionable sanctuary of his borrowed room.
Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice
“Star,” Morgan said as she closed the parlor door and leaned
against it, “what did you do to that man? He’s soaked!”
Her mother’s words barely registered as Star strode into the
room and seated herself on the sofa. Her body was still recovering from the
kiss; her mind whirled with the implications. Nicholas was not indifferent to
her. “Why nothing of import, Mother,” she replied casually.
“You didn’t push him in?” she asked hopefully, as she
settled into a chair next to Star. “I should hope you’ve got better manners
than that.”
Star smiled at her mother, who sat with her back stiff and
straight. It was a pose she used in company, or when she meant to lecture her
children. The latter she did rarely and with great reluctance because, for all
that she kept up appearances, Mother secretly despised structure, manners and,
well, appearances.
“Why, it does seem that I may lack those manners, Mother,”
Star said, “for you may blame Nicholas’s condition on me. I assure you,
however, that I acted upon extreme provocation! He not only had the bad grace
to crow about beating me in the race, but afterwards claimed that he had
allowed
me to win at chess. Naturally, I gave him a little push. I cannot be faulted
because he tripped and fell into the water.”
Mother’s eyes sparkled and her mouth twitched slightly. Then
she pursed her lips in her best Good Mother imitation. “A lady does not risk
drowning her escort, Star, you know that,” she replied in her best lecturing
tone, but could not keep laughter from tingeing her words.
“I did not drown him. It was only two feet of water. To be
sure, he confessed afterward that he said it purely as provocation, for I
did
beat him at chess fair and square! So you see, your daughter is still the
champion. Congratulate me!”
“I shan’t,” Mother replied maintaining firm control over her
facial muscles although the sparkle in her eyes grew, reluctant testimony to
her amusement. “And you shall not distract me with gaiety either. It is past
time for us to discuss your behavior toward Nicholas. I must own that I have
been more than a trifle concerned about it for these many months. I have,
however, refrained from making mention of it, assuming you would follow a
better tack with him as our guest.”
Uh oh.
“He is not just an acquaintance, my dear, or an associate as
your former beaus have been. He is our friend. You comprehend the difference?”
“I do, but Nicholas is no beau of mind, Mother. He holds me
at a distance.”
“Not far enough,” she said wryly, “if you were near enough
to push him into the Charles.”
Star laughed. “Oh Mother,” she said warmly, “we must be such
a trial for you! You try so much to keep us all in order, but you’re no better
than your children are and you know it! Had you been there, you’d have shoved
him, too.”
“I would not—”
“Shall I bring up
your
past?”
Mother had the good grace to flush at that, but not in a
joyful manner. Her face tightened and the gleam left her eyes. Oh no she’d gone
too far. She was really in for it now!
“I apprehend full well that I was remarkably unsteady as a
girl. I plunged both your father and myself into a great deal of scandal. It
took us many years and much struggle to overcome it. We expect
you
to
behave more sensibly. I shall give you credit, Star, that in spite of your
six
fiancés, you do toe the line. Barely, but you toe it. Nicholas, however, is a
different matter. As a man of the West, he is no doubt quite capable of dealing
with the perils of the wilderness, but he’s not accustomed to women of your
breeding.”
“Oh? How might women like me differ from Western women?”
“Do not play the fool with me, Virginia. You know quite well
the differences. You are a flirt of the first order. As admirable as is your
work and your enviable ability to compete with men on many different playing
fields—you
know
how proud I am of that!—you are notoriously unstable
when it comes to matters of the heart.”
Star controlled the urge to squirm under her mother’s harsh
scrutiny. “I did
like
all of my fiancés, Mother. I even loved one or
two.”
“You had no intention—
ever
—of marrying them.”
“Why no, of course not, but if they were too stupid—”
“Then they deserved it. I wholly comprehend your reasoning.
You may recollect that I never spoke a word of censure to you. Nicholas,
however, did not grow up with you. He may not understand society women and the
games they play. It seems to me that courtship out West is for purposes of
marriage, not for enjoyment, and therefore I’m requesting—
strongly
for
you know I could never order you—that you not use him in that manner. He’s a
good man, Star. I don’t wish to see his heart broken.”
“Mother, his heart must be engaged for it to break, and he
deems me but a friend, nothing more. I’ve shown you his letters. He never so
much as hinted at a romantic interest in me.”
“No, but,” Mother started. Then she stopped and stared down
at her hands as if searching for the correct words. Star, while waiting, took a
quick trip back in time, exploring her many love affairs. Had she really broken
hearts? She’d not thought so. She doubted any of fiancés had ever
really
loved her, for they scarcely knew her. Although they must know of her
dedication to the movement, she’d rarely shared her obsession with Female
Equality with them, which was at the core of her very being. One did not
discuss such things when one was bent upon seduction. She had, however, shared
those thoughts with Nicholas. It proved her point, for he’d been the least
responsive of all.
Or so she’d thought until today. Until he’d kissed
her
.
Even after her abominable display of temper. Even after she’d made every
attempt to out-row him. Even when she was sweaty and mud-stained. He had kissed
her
, willingly and without prompting.
“Star, honey,” her mother finally said, and Star’s eyes
focused upon her again. Her mother’s brow was creased, and a weariness that one
rarely saw in Mother peered out of her eyes. “I do wish you’d reconsider your
prohibition to marriage. It’s not quite the monster you’ve made it out to be.
It has quite a few advantages, especially for a woman of your nature.”
“Mother,” she said feeling the hackles rise on her back.
“You know why I cannot.”
“I understand your feelings on the subject.” She leaned
forward to touch Star’s hand. Had Star not known her mother, she’d have sworn
she marked unshed tears in her eyes. “But your guilt is misguided, honey.
Minnie would not wish—”
That old pain buried deep in her heart resurfaced. “It is
more than just that, Mother,” she snapped.
Mother’s shoulders fell and she sighed. Shaking her head,
she leaned back again. “Even Lucy Stone married, Star. She and Mr. Blackwell
have been quite happy together.”
“There’s only one Henry Blackwell. Recollect that Henry’s
sister is the first female physician in the country. He understands women as a
separate entity from men. Few others do.”
Mother sighed again. “At least promise me that you’ll mull
it over.”
“I vow to give it all the deliberation it deserves.”
Mother shook her head, but she smiled. “You’re as stubborn
as your father. Ah well, then I must place my faith in Nicholas if I cannot
prevail upon you. Were he a younger man, I should worry more. For today,
however, we’ve got plans to discuss. I’ve received a letter just this morning
from your Aunt Fran. The Huntingtons, Del and Jane included, are on their way
for a visit. The Hathaways have decided this is an especial occasion and wish
to throw a ball in honor of it, and for,” she chuckled, “our ‘Esteemed Guest’.
I’m quite sure Nicholas will find that amusing.”
“He’ll laugh.”
Mother’s eyes twinkled. “That’s what I mean. At any rate,
they’ve requested that we provide them with some dates for the occasion. If you
would fetch your calendar, please?”
“Why of course! Give me an half hour, first, so I may
change?”
“I’ll send for tea.”
Star walked slowly to her room. Free of Mother’s lecturing,
her mind returned to that kiss. Yes, Nicholas might respond to seduction after
all. But this time she would tread lighter. Instead of taking the lead in this
seduction, she would entice
him
into taking action. The kiss had proven
he would, under certain circumstances. She merely needed to create those
circumstances.
By the time she entered her room, she was all but whistling.
Margaret, laying out Star’s clothes, turned when she heard her. “Oh Miss,” she
said, taking in her appearance with an exasperated sigh. “What have you been
into now?”
“The Charles River. A slight accident. Oh, you’ve laid out
my green poplin. It is my new favorite dress. Thank you so much! Here, help me
out of this will you? What’s that?” she asked as she stood in front of the
mirror, pulling her hat and hatpins from her hair. She nodded to an oblong,
paper-wrapped package on her bedside table.
“A package come for you this morning.”
“How splendid! Give it here.”
“Not until you’re out of these clothes, Miss,” Margaret said
severely. “You shan’t sit on the bed in all your mud. Aunt Maeve would have my
head if I let you, you know that.”
“Oh she would not!” Star said, but held steady, allowing
Margaret to help her out of her dirty rowing gown. “She has doted on me my
whole life.”
“It’s my head she’ll take,” she said as she unbuttoned the
gown. “She gave me a regular scolding yesterday, miss, on how if I was to be a
good lady’s maid, I must stand up to you now and then.”
“By using guilt, I apprehend, as Maeve has always done with
Mother,” she said stepping out of the dress. “At any rate, I am clean enough to
sit on the bed now.” She sat down and pulled the package into her lap. It was
heavy, with the three-sided indent of a book. She tore the paper, and then
frowned. It was an old book. Worn black leather, gold embossed.
The Holy
Bible
.
Confused, Star look at the ripped paper. It had only her
address on it, no other. How odd. She opened the book. Her breath caught in her
throat when she saw a charcoal rose carefully drawn on the first page, under
the printed title.
A Bible. Oh good God, he’d sent her a
Bible
.
“What is it miss? Oh, a Bible. Why how thoughtful! Who
would—but it’s old, isn’t it?”
“Romeo.”
“
Romeo
? Your secret admirer? What a strange thing to
send.”
“Yes,” she said turning a page. A folded piece of paper.
Hand trembling, she opened it.