by D L Lane
“I think you owe Ms. Singleton an apology,” Mr. King suggested in his way that leaned more toward a demand.
All the noise stopped, going as quiet as a grave.
“Now, Mr. Johnson!”
Emmanuel’s small startled cry had Thayer momentarily returning to pat the baby’s back with “Shh...everything’s fine. Don’t you fret now, baby-boy.”
“Sorry,” Jenkins tossed out, but it didn’t sound sincere.
Mr. King glanced around. “I think every one of you has something you should be ashamed about.” He turned toward Mr. Granger. “Isn’t that right?”
“Verland, what is that supposed to mean?” his wife asked, sharp eyes narrowing.
The staunch older man turned fifteen shades of crimson. “I-I have no idea.” Aged-gray eyes went to Mr. King. “You leave me out of this.”
“How about you, Dixon?” Thayer asked, blue gaze shifting to him.
The editor of the local ‘gossip rag’ disguised as a paper shook a hand out in front of him. “I’m with Verland. I want no part of this scene.”
“Gladly,” Thayer said. “I, for one, would like to enjoy a good meal with my lovely companion, and do so without snide and hurtful comments tossed about.” The powerful tycoon eyed the room at large. “Does anyone have a problem with that?”
A choir of “No’s” rang out.
With a stern nod, Mr. King retook his seat, Thayer rejoining with a smile. “Now.” He wrapped his knuckles on the table, determined eyes on me. “What shall we order?”
Chapter Thirty-Six
I love you
December 24, 1937
The fire popped and crackled, sending the scent of burning white ash wood through the air while the large fir tree glittering in tinsel and lights enamored my son. Bouncing him on my knee, Emmanuel giggled and blew bubbles from his little bow lips, kicking his legs and tossing his arms.
I’d forgotten what home felt like after my mama died, but the sensation returned, descending around me. True happiness made me smile as Thayer, for the second Christmas in a row, read the story of Jesus’ birth from Mama’s Bible, taking pauses here and there to chuckle at the baby’s antics.
“Thank you for that,” I said when he’d finished.
“It was my pleasure.” Reaching, he gave Emmanuel his finger—the baby latching on curling his fist around the offering, laughing so hard he flung his body back against me. “You know what? There’s a special present under the tree for you to open this evening, young man. What do you think of that?”
Little laughs filled the air around us.
“I think he’s all for it,” I said.
After I pried small fingers free from Thayer’s much larger forefinger, he rose and went to the sparkling Christmas tree, bent, and picked up a beautifully wrapped gift, bringing it over. “I think you will need to help him, Mississippi.”
Placing the little man on the settee beside me, I put the present in front of him and helped him tear the paper, most of which he wanted to eat. “No, no,” I said, taking the slobbered wrapping from his mouth. “We need to open the box.”
Blinking up at me, my son smiled, rocking his torso excitedly.
Taking the lid, I lifted it, the two of us, Emmanuel and me, peering inside. “Look at that!”
Carefully, I pulled a brown teddy bear free, handing it over, which the baby put to his mouth, nibbling at the soft fluffy ear. “Don’t eat Mr. Bear. Love on him.” I took the cute toy and hugged it to my chest. “Like this, see.”
When I gave it back to Emmanuel, he tried his best to mimic me, both Thayer and I laughing as we watched him.
“He loves it,” I said, glancing up at the man who was smiling wide.
“I think you are right.”
I turned back to watch the baby wrestle with Mr. Bear, but Thayer’s movement caught my attention.
“What are you doing?” I asked as he dug around in the front pocket of his trousers, freezing when he knelt, taking one knee.
“Mississippi Kaitileen Singleton”—holding out his hand, the biggest diamond ring I’d ever seen rested in his palm, glittering—“I love you,” he said, his voice filled with emotion, “and I love that baby by your side. I don’t know what I do without either of you, and I never wish to find out. I want to honor and cherish both of you, doing everything I can to make you happy.”
I placed a shaking hand over my mouth, tears welling.
“So, I’m doing what I didn’t do correctly months ago.” With a tilt to his head, the light in the room made his black hair shine. “Forgive me for my blundering marriage proposal the first time, but this time, I’m down on my knees, asking you from the heart—the heart that beats for you—will you please, do me the extraordinary honor of becoming my wife?”
I couldn’t speak; all I was capable of doing was nodding.
“Yes?”
“Ye-yes,” I cried.
Taking my hand, he slipped the ring on the third finger of my left hand, leaned in, and whispered across my lips. “I’ve never been happier to hear that one simple word.”
With my heart beating a crazy rhythm in my chest, overwhelming joy zipping through me, and tears of great happiness flowing down my cheeks, I kissed the man who finally said he loved me.
Then my lacking dawned.
Inching back, I looked into his beautiful eyes and confessed, “I love you, too Thayer Drayton King, and I’m pretty sure I fell the moment you stepped out of your fancy car.”
The baby giggled as Thayer and I were pulled together like magnets, then our lips met, and everything else melted away.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
You are my someone
December 30, 1937
“How did I know when I went looking for you, I’d find you in the library?”
Thayer’s smooth voice had me twisting in my chair. “Maybe because Ms. Bauman offered to take care of Emmanuel for a bit, and I’m usually in here when I have a moment to myself?”
When that wide smile stretched across his face, my heart skipped a beat. “Perhaps you are right.”
“Why were you looking for me?”
“I have a surprise for you.” He came to my side, brushing his fingertips over my shoulder. “Two, actually.”
My tummy fluttered. “What are they?”
“If I tell you, they will no longer be surprises now, would they?”
“I suppose not.”
“Put your book down and come with me.”
Removing the encyclopedia from my lap and placing it on the side table, I rose from my seat.
“Where are we going?” I asked, taking Thayer’s hand in mine.
“Upstairs.”
A few minutes later, we were walking into my room. Well, Thayer’s, but the space I still occupied.
“Close your eyes,” he said, placing his palm over them, leading me deeper into the ample space.
Giggling, I said, “Don’t let me stumble.”
“I won’t,” he replied, positioning me at what I thought was the end of the bed. “All right, you can look now.”
Once his hand was gone, I opened my eyes, my mouth gaping. There, draped over the duvet, was a stunning, blue, what I could only explain as a princess dress.
“Oh,” I muttered, reaching out to touch the delicate material. “This is...beautiful.”
“So, you like it?”
“Like it?” I glanced up at him. “I love it, but what is it for? It’s the fanciest of fancy dresses ever.”
Smiling, he shook his head. “It’s just a gown, no fancier than any other.”
“Like a ball gown?”
He nodded. “Only what you’ll be wearing it for won’t be a ball, but for the theatre.”
My eyes rounded. “Where we watched the Fred Astaire movie?”
“No, as in the New Orleans Philharmonic Symphony.”
My eyes widened. “New Orleans? A Symphony?”
“Yes. I have a box there that has gone unutilized for ages, and I though
t it would be the perfect event to take my fiancée to and show her off.”
“You want to show me off?”
“Of course.”
I glanced down, “I’m not sure I’m—”
Lifting my chin with his fingers, Thayer locked his eyes with mine. “Don’t look down.”
“But, I’m not someone to show off.”
“You are my someone, and I’m proud to have you on my arm.” He cupped my face between his warm palms. “I’m in love with you, Mississippi.”
“But—”
“None of that.” He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to him. “You are mine, and it’s time everyone knows it.”
After kissing me until my head spun, Thayer released me and stepped back. “Where are you going? Ms. Bonny will be sharing babysitting duties this evening with Ms. Bauman, and she will be up to help you get ready in just a few moments.”
“We’re goin’ tonight?”
I tugged at my earlobe. I’d messed up and dropped my g.
He nodded. “As soon as you’re dressed, we are leaving for New Orleans.”
A thousand thoughts were zipping through my mind.
“No worrying,” he said, “you’re going to fall in love with the symphony. You’ll see.”
“I’m not worried about that, just nervous.”
Thayer’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you be nervous?”
Rubbing my temple, I answered with, “I don’t want to do anything to embarrass you.”
“Mississippi, I’ve told you before, you cannot embarrass me.”
Shifting my weight, I said, “Don’t be too sure.”
“I’m positive you will do nothing but make me proud.” With one last brush of his lips across mine, he said, “Now, relax. Get dressed and meet me downstairs.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chopin
There are moments in our lives that seemed to leave everlasting impressions—memories, either good or bad, that will stay forever with us. That night, dressed as if I were royalty, on the arm of the handsome and commanding Mr. King, was one of those unforgettable times. I knew, even then, every emotion I felt, everything I took in around me, would make me smile for years to come whenever I revisited it.
“Wait,” Thayer said, halting us in the foyer of his home. “I have something else for you.”
“Something else?” I blinked up at him.
“I told you I had two surprises.” He took a box from inside his black suit coat and opened it, handing it over to me.
Once my eyes focused on the glittering blue jewel, I couldn’t hold my, “Mercy! It-it’s. I’m unsure there are words.”
Taking the jewelry from the silk-lined container, Thayer locked his gaze with mine. “A sapphire to match your eyes.” He cupped my cheek in the palm of his free hand, thumb swiping along my skin. “When I saw the necklace, I knew you must have it.”
“Oh, Thayer. It’s so beautiful.”
“Here, let me help you put it on.”
Giving him my back, he placed the golden links around my neck, his fingertips brushing my exposed collarbone, giving me chills. “I’m glad Ms. Bauman pinned your hair up.”
“You like it?”
“Very much. It allows me to do this.” As soft as butterfly wings, Thayer pressed his lips to the hollow beneath my ear.
A shiver of pleasure rippled through me.
A few seconds later, he announced, “Finished.”
Turning around, my hand went to my neck—the sensation encircling it strange but delightful. “What do you think?”
“Stunning.” Bending down to whisper, he said, “And I don’t mean the jewelry.”
Blushing, I held onto his forearm. “Thank you for both the compliment and the lovely necklace; I will treasure them both.”
***
Love is a wondrous thing. The emotion, when it’s real, changes everything about you—even how you experience the world. In reality, the trip to New Orleans wasn’t a short one, but it seemed so, and this occurrence had to be from the enjoyment of the ride because I was seated next to the man I couldn’t live without.
“Shall we?” Thayer asked, holding out his arm for mine, ready to walk in the imposing building only a few feet away from us.
With a nod, I weaved my hand into the curve he’d made for me, gaining entrance into the grand foyer after the doormen opened the doors for us.
Expecting the place to be wonderous, I tried not to gawk, not sure if I achieved it as I took in the carved pillars, marble floor, elaborate ceiling with gold leaf accents, and sparkling fixtures.
“Thayer,” a gentleman called coming toward us, a beautiful and sophisticated dark-haired woman on his arm wearing a shimmering emerald gown. “I haven’t seen you here in ages.” His brown gaze landed on me. “And who may I ask is this exquisite creature?”
“Ambrose, this is my fiancée, Ms. Mississippi Singleton.” Thayer smiled down at me. “Mississippi, this is the Honorable Senator Ambrose Washington and his lovely wife, Isabella.”
A senator?
Remembering my manners and the etiquette lessons Ms. Bauman had given me; I smiled and held out my hand. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Senator.”
He clasped my hand between both of his. “So delightful.”
“Thank you,” I said as he let me go, my attention shifting to his wife. “And I’m happy to meet you as well, Mrs. Washington.”
She wasn’t as friendly, but she did return a somewhat forced grin with a, “Yes, well.” Glancing at her husband, she said, “We really should find our seats,” then back to Thayer. “It was good to see you, Mr. King. I hope you enjoy tonight's performance.”
Wrapping his arm around my waist, Thayer tucked me next to him, giving me a sense of protection. “I’m sure we will.”
Once the senator and his wife left, I looked up and whispered, “That was interesting.”
Thayer chuckled. “Pay no attention to Isabella; she’s always been in danger of drowning.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Her nose is stuck so far up in the air if it rains”—he shrugged—“well...”
I laughed. “Oh, I get it.”
He squeezed me. “Good.”
“Thayer,” someone else called, making us both turn in the direction as a woman with dark hair liberally streaked with silver, arms held out wide, came and hugged his neck. “It’s so wonderful to see you.”
Stepping back, she gave him an inspection, looking at him from head to toe. “Don’t you look handsome, but then”—her pale green gaze came to me—“he always does, wouldn’t you agree, Ms.?”
“Singleton,” Thayer said. “My fiancée.”
“Oh, my. It is a pleasure.” She reached and hugged my neck, too, startling me.
“Uh...” I sputtered, not sure what to do, so I patted her sturdy arm.
“Mississippi,” Thayer said, happiness in his voice, “I would like you to meet Fiona Clarkson. She’s on the board of directors here for King Enterprises.”
Letting loose of me, the woman in the black gown stepped back.
“Hello, Mrs. Clarkson,” I said. “I’m happy to meet you.”
She waved a hand, multiple rings sparkling with a “Pfst... No need for Mrs. Call me, Fiona.” Her shrewd gaze went back to Thayer. “Wasn’t it just horrible news about the Carrington’s? I must say, though, I’m not entirely sure I was as shocked as everyone else by Reynard’s improper ways, and I’m sure neither did it come as a surprise to you.”
“The news of his suicide saddened me,” Thayer said, forgoing an actual answer, making my eyes go round.
“He killed himself?” Placing a hand to my mouth, I remembered too late I shouldn’t be blurting out questions of such a nature.
Sky-blue eyes met me. “I’m afraid he did, love.”
“Hung himself inside his jail cell,” Fiona added in a whisper, shaking her head and clicking her tongue. “His poor wife fainted at the news and was admitted into P
ine View for a rest.”
“I’m sorry to hear of that.” Thayer’s brow was crinkled.
“On the other side of the coin,” the woman said, joy returning to her lined face, “there is some good news.”
Thayer’s dark brows lifted. “Oh?”
“Catherine is set to marry that bigwig attorney who represented her father. The ceremony is set for next week.”
“Well, that is good to hear.”
I nodded my agreement, happy that woman was out of my hair and Thayer’s.
“I was relieved when you called off the engagement.” She cupped her hand to the side of her mouth. “I’m sorry, but I never cared for the girl.”
You and me both, I thought but held my tongue.
“We were never meant to be.” Sparkling eyes smiled down at me. “This is the one—my soul mate.”
“Aw...” Fiona cooed as overwhelming joy pinged off the ribs encasing my heart.
“The performance will be starting in five!” A gentleman in formal attire announced.
“That’s our cue,” Thayer said. “Time to get to our seats and settle in.”
“You’re using the loge, aren’t you?” Fiona asked.
I glanced up at Thayer. “Loge?”
“A private theatre box,” he said.
“Ah.” I stored a new bit of knowledge away.
“Well, come on, you two.” Fiona waved her hand at us. “We don’t want to be late.”
“She’s sharing the box with us,” Thayer added as we made our way to a set of stairs and into a private balcony overlooking the stage at a right angle.
A few minutes later, with my fiancé’s hand in mine, the red curtain lifted, a bow-tied conductor bowed to the crowd, and then once he faced them, arms in the air, the symphony started.
Unable to help myself, I leaned forward in my seat, completely mesmerized. There I was, a poor, uneducated girl from a small parish dressed to the nines, listening to the most fantastic thing.
“Chopin,” Thayer said in a low tone.
