***
John stood just to the side of the ballroom watching the front door. He was hoping to see when Ester arrived at the party. Most of the guests had already arrived and the band had begun to play over a half hour ago. Yet, she had not arrived. He didn't know her well enough to know if her lateness was on purpose so she could gain attention, or if something had happened to delay her.
He hoped she arrived soon, otherwise his coming to the party was for nothing. His invite tonight had come easy enough—the host of the party was an old client. A couple of years ago, Mr. Wright had hired him and a couple of other Pinkerton detectives to find his kidnapped granddaughter. The recovery of the granddaughter had gone well, and Mr. Wright was forever grateful. So much so, that he was almost eager to have John here under the guise of a guest.
Movement caught his attention, and he watched as Charles escorted Ester inside. Her purple ball gown fit her perfectly. He stared at her as she removed her hat and handed it to the butler standing just inside the front door. With their hats handed off, she took Charles’ arm as he escorted her to the ballroom. Entering, they gave no indication that they noticed him standing there watching them. Good, he thought, I will surprise them both later.
Moving from where he had stood watching for Ester, he began his circle of the room. He stopped here and there and spoke with different groups that had formed within the ballroom. A few times he was introduced to some lovely young ladies, who in return would hide their blushes behind their fans. He was flattered but not interested and always managed to excuse himself from the group before being cornered into dancing with one of them.
Across the room, he saw Ester sitting next to her soon-to-be mother-in-law. Mrs. Chesterfield was as prim and proper as they came. So much so, he wondered if the woman had ever smiled a day in her life. Or even allowed herself the luxury of laughing? He doubted it. From what he learned of her, she was always so worried about what others thought of her. Nothing would make her the target of gossip or ruin her spotless reputation.
He gave a proper excuse to the small group he was speaking with and made his way over to Ester. It was time to see just how much I could rile both women up, he thought with a mischievous smile. He saw her eyes go wide, then she straightened her spine and looked away. The movement caused her soft curls to bounce against the back of her neck and shoulders. So she noticed his presence and by her reaction, she was none too happy that he was there tonight. She would really not be happy if she knew that he wanted to pull the pins from her hair and run his fingers through those curls.
"Evening, ladies," he greeted as he walked up to them. He watched as Mrs. Chesterfield eyed him and Ester gave just a slight nod of her head in acknowledgement. "Ester, I was wondering if you would care to join me a dance."
"Ester, do you know this young man?" Mrs. Chesterfield asked turning her head back and forth from John to Ester.
"He came to the school a few weeks back inquiring about his niece attending," Ester said as she wrung her hands in her lap.
"Stop fidgeting," Mrs. Chesterfield scolded. "Young man, it is not proper to address a lady so familiarly nor approach when not properly introduced."
"I apologize, ma'am. Ms. Woods, would you care to dance?" He held out his hand to her and waited as she sat quietly staring at his hand.
"Ms. Woods is engaged to be married. Dancing with you would ruin her reputation."
"What is this about reputation?" an older gentleman asked as he joined them.
"This young man was asking Ester to dance. I was explaining to him that in polite society it was very inappropriate for an engaged lady to do such a thing. In our day, Robert, a gentleman would never behave in such a scandalous way." She gave a disdainful sniff of her nose as she jutted her chin up.
"Robert Daily," he said as he reached out to shake John's hand.
"John O'Brian," John offered as he took the other man's hand. The older man's handshake was firm which he admired. He always figured a strong man would have a strong handshake. He found that most squirrely men—the ones who he would watch closely—had soft handshakes. He had no use for squirrely men.
“Ms. Woods do you have an open slot on your dance card?” Mr. Daily asked, ignoring the look Mrs. Chesterfield was giving him.
“I do not have a dance card, sir.” Since her and Charles had announced their engagement, his mother made sure she no longer danced at any parties. Instead she always sat and watched the ladies glide across the floor in time with the music.
“All the ladies have a dance card. Not to worry though, I will secure you one when servant comes back around.” Mr. Daily said as he offered her a sly wink.
"How did you get an invitation?" Charles asked as he walked up.
Well, this just got more interesting, John thought. He watched as Ester visibly cringed. Smiling an openly friendly smile, he turned to Charles. "It wasn't hard really. After all, Mr. McSpadden with all his uncouth behavior even landed an invitation."
"Mr. McSpadden is a man of money. Money is, of course, what opens doors. The Irish, like you, have no place here. After all, do you see Mary anywhere around? Even he knows not to bring her into polite society," Charles sneered.
"Please excuse me, everyone. I really must steal John away for a moment. I promise to return him shortly," Mr. Wright said as he came around Charles.
"You know this man personally?" Charles asked
"Oh yes. John here is someone I consider to be a very close friend. Now if you will please excuse us." Mr. Wright turned and stepped away. When John came up next to him, they fell into step together. "I must say that if it were not for that man's mother, he would have been cut off the invitation list a long time ago."
"He is very obnoxious," John stated.
"That is a polite way to put it," Mr. Wright said. They both laughed as they entered his office. “I know just where to sit you tonight for dinner.”
Chapter 13
Ester sat there in stunned silence. First Mr. O’Brian approaches them and acts way too familiar with her. Right here at the party, in front of so many of Boston’s society. In just a few short moments, he could have ruined her reputation beyond repair. Why did that man insist on constantly trying to interact with her? She was engaged to be married and in no position to be pursued by another man. Everything she had worked so hard for was riding on her not only getting married, but her reputation as well.
Now Mr. Daily had informed a servant to bring her a dance card. Her future mother-in-law was fuming mad. Then there was Charles. His constant insults toward Mr. O’Brian and now Mary, really set her nerves on edge. Lately he has been showing a side of himself that in normal circumstances would have her ending the engagement.
Tonight, was just another show of his controlling behavior. They were late to the party because of him. She was dressed and ready when he insisted she wear the hat he had bought her. He knew how she felt about wearing anything with dead birds on it. Yet, he had went back to the millinery and bought the exact hat she had shown her disdain for earlier.
She had insisted that she was dressed and ready. He, in turn, had insisted that she change and wear the hat. In the end, she gave in and changed into a purple dress to match the hideous purple hat. She wondered if his behavior would grow worse after they married or if this was the worst of it. She was lost in her internal thoughts when a hand touched her shoulder. Blinking, she looked up at Charles.
“Isn’t that right, Ester?” he asked.
“I am so sorry. I must have missed the question.” She smiled up at him.
“You must excuse her, Mr. Daily. My Ester here can be a bit absentminded at times. Ester, I was telling Mr. Daily that once married, we would be hiring a governess from New York to come and run the school.” He patted her shoulder.
Absentminded? Why, the gall of the man! Hiring someone to run the school? She was the owner and planned to run the school the same as now. “Charles, I already told you that I would continue to run the school. It is my school.
”
“Dear, we discussed this. While you are really good at teaching young girls how to be proper ladies and their place in society, you really lack the business sense necessary to run it efficiently. She has such a big heart, Mr. Daily, that she wants to take in all these strays.”
“Yes, I can see that. My dearly departed Missy was just like her. Always wanting to help those unfortunately souls. She would have put us in the poor house ourselves if given free reign.”
The two men kept talking about her as if she wasn’t there. Many times, the urge to sock one of them in their face came over her. She had seen some of the women at her mother’s establishment do just that to a rude drunken man. Taking a breath, she felt the tight restriction of her corset. It served to remind her that she was a lady unlike those women. Ladies did not get angry in public. Nor did they punch men in the face. No, ladies sat quietly and smiled sweetly. Which is what she was doing, but it was so very hard.
“Ester, there is Lady Wellington. Come, we need to make our circle around the room,” Mrs. Chesterfield said. “Gentlemen, if you will excuse us.”
Ester rose and followed Mrs. Chesterfield across the room. Ester knew that Mrs. Chesterfield solely wanted to speak with Lady Wellington. However, they stopped and spoke briefly with a couple of groups of guests along the way. After all, it would have been rude to just walk straight to the Lady and speak with her. Once socially acceptable, Mrs. Chesterfield drug her over to the Baroness.
“Lady Wellington, it is so good to see you again. May I introduce my soon-to-be daughter-in-law, Ms. Ester Woods?” Mrs. Chesterfield beamed.
“Ms. Woods, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Lady Wellington said with a small nod of her head.
“The pleasure is mine,” Ester responded dutifully.
For the next half hour, Mrs. Chesterfield and Lady Wellington discussed upcoming parties amongst Boston’s society—which were worth accepting invites to and which would best avoided if one could. Lady Wellington was staying in America until after the New Year and seemed to be on everyone’s invitation list. Ester discovered that Mrs. Chesterfield had even invited the Lady to her and Charles’ wedding. Eventually, Mrs. Chesterfield excused herself, and Ester found herself alone with Lady Wellington.
“So how long have you known Charles?” Lady Wellington asked.
“Not very long,” Ester answered.
“Yet, you are sure you want to marry him?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Forgive me, Ms. Woods, I know it is not polite to ask such questions. The only reason I do, is that I am afraid you don’t know Charles well enough.” Opening her fan, she began to fan her face. “It does get warm after awhile with so many people milling about.”
“I know my fiancé just fine, thank you.” Ester couldn’t believe the rudeness of Lady Wellington. She had felt relieved when given the chance to get away from Charles and Mr. Daily’s rudeness, and now here she was being subjected to more. What was with people tonight?
“So then you know what happened to his late wife?”
Ester stood there, staring at her. What did she mean happened to his late wife? What late wife at that? Charles had never been married before. He told her such. Their wedding in December would be the first time either of them had been married. Charles or his mother would have said something by now had there been a previous Mrs. Chesterfield.
“I didn’t think so. Look, did he even tell you anything about his late wife?” She lifted one perfect eyebrow and waited the length of a heartbeat. “I take it he didn’t. Well, he was married before. Married above himself but since she was not a very attractive girl, the family was grateful to even find her a husband. No one knows for sure how she really died. It was officially said an illness. However, some believe he helped her along . . . if you know what I mean?”
“Surely, you are mistaken. Charles was never married before.” Ester was in shock. She was refuting the other woman’s claims while her brain was screaming that it was true. No, it couldn’t be true. There was no way such a secret could have been kept for so long. Too many of Boston’s society loved to gossip. She would have heard something before now, wouldn’t she?
“He was married. To a lovely, young, sweet girl named Alice Eaton. I met her my first time in Boston at a ball much like this one. She quickly became a close friend and confidant. Now only thing in question is how she really died. I only tell you this because you are new to Boston’s society, and I felt I should warn you.” Lady Wellington said before excusing herself to go speak with friends.
Ester stood there, unsure what to do. Not for the first time that night, she just wanted to leave the party and get away from Charles. If that dang will of her grandfather’s wasn’t demanding she marry before Christmas Eve, she would end it. But that will loomed over her, and time was fast running out. She thought of John and how he had helped out when they had suffered the illness at the school. Charles stayed far away during that time for fear that he would contract something. John, though, didn’t have any such fears. He just jumped in and helped get things done. Too bad she hadn’t met a man like him before Charles. Her bed had been made, though, and now she had to lie in it.
“Ms. Woods?” a male voice said behind her.
Turning she saw their host Mr. Wright standing behind her. “Mr. Wright, it is a pleasure to see you again.”
“The pleasure is mine. May I escort you back to your seat?”
“That would be very kind of you.” She took his offered arm.
“I had occasions to travel to Chicago. I knew your grandparents.”
Fear shot through her. Her heart pounded. Her lungs strained for air. This couldn’t be happening to her. Not now. Not when she was so close to having the life her mother had wanted for her.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and pleading.
“Ms. Woods, relax. I promise you that your secret is safe with me.” He patted the hand that rested on his arm. “I personally do not agree with what your grandparents did to your mother or you.”
“You don’t?” her voice barely a whisper.
“No, I don’t. My granddaughter was kidnapped and due to no fault of her own, the gossips circled like vultures.” He stopped walking and with eyes full of compassion looked down at her. “You are a lady and as far as I am concerned you belong here.”
“Thank you, Mr. Wright.” Her heart slowed down, and she found she could breath again. Tears threated to fall. Never had she had anyone in polite society know her secrets and simply accept her. He was a rare gem this elderly man.
“Would you care to honor me with a dance?” he asked.
“I am not sure if I have a dance card. Charles and his mother find it improper. However, Mr. Daily said something about securing one for me.”
“Charles and his mother find the air itself improper. Never mind all that though. I will escort you back to your seat and place my name on your card.”
When they reached her seat, he held out his hand for the dance card. She handed it over with trembling fingers. He quickly added his name to her card for the next dance number. Handing it back to her, he looked at Charles and Mrs. Chesterfield. Giving her a sly wink, he turned and walked off.
***
John realized the devious nature of their host when he entered the dining room and saw that he had be seated across from Ester. Charles was to her right and his mother to her left. The poor woman had been placed between two horrible dinner guests. Despite the engagement, he ventured to guess she would prefer to be seated with other partygoers tonight.
“Ester, remember it is an insult to our host to take more than your allotted portions when dinner is served,” Mrs. Chesterfield instructed as she placed her napkin upon her lap.
“Yes, ma’am,” Ester murmured while situating her napkin.
“Ms. Woods does run a school for proper young ladies. I am sure she knows proper etiquette,” John injected. Mrs. Chesterfield and Charles both rewarded him with a scowl. Ester, to his delight,
smiled before bowing her head.
A couple of moments later, the servants began to come around, placing their soup bowls in front of them. When he saw the last guest served, John picked up his spoon and sipped a small amount from his spoon. He thought back to the soup Mary had served while he was helping out with the illness at the school and found tonight’s soup bland in comparison.
The Christmas Will (O'Brian Brothers Book 1) Page 7
