by Lynn Landes
Jealousy rips through Dayton the moment Sebastian offers his arm. Savannah touches his arm lightly and allows him to escort her to the punch bowl. Is this who she really is? Another woman looking for a wealthy man to care for her. Was this her plan all along? Rage has his hands trembling. He is moving towards her without even realizing it.
Maxwell is dancing with Belinda when she stiffens and nods to Dayton. “That’s not good.”
Savannah finds herself surrounded by three men and desperate for a break. Unable to see around them she glances at the ballroom floor, and her eyes lock onto Belinda with a plea of help in her eyes. The plan to dance and talk about Dayton’s Race track has worked perfectly, a little too perfectly. In fact, she’s beginning to worry about the hateful looks and comments flickering around her.
“Gentlemen, I’d appreciate it if you’d step back from my Cousin and give her some space to breathe,” Dayton snaps from behind. Savannah sighs in relief and turns to smile at him.
“Dayton,” she murmurs.
“Come now, Mr. Patrick, surely you can share,” a young man grumbles back.
Savannah realizes Dayton is furious when he steps in front of her, blocking them from looking at her. The vein bulges on the side of his forehead, “Would you care to repeat that?”
Maxwell and Belinda appear at the punch bowl. “My wife is parched, gentlemen. She would be sorely put out if one of you spilled this punch,” Maxwell glares at the young man who bows and walks away.
“I was about to get Savannah a…”
“Miss Ward,” Dayton hisses at a second man.
“Yes, of course, Miss Ward,” he stammers and steps back.
Sebastian watches quietly and sees the shock on Savannah’s face. She’s pale and trembling behind Dayton. Belinda moves to her side with a glass of punch and walks her a few feet away to a chair.
“Come along, Savannah,” Belinda says and hands her a glass.
Savannah sips the punch and fans herself slowly. “What was that?” she whispers.
“Dayton is making it clear that his Cousin is to be treated with the ultimate respect. Would you expect anything less? I’m surprised he didn’t drown one of them in the punch bowl.” Belinda giggles at the gasp from Savannah.
“Why? I’m only trying to help him, Belinda.”
“I don’t think he knows that or cares right now,” Belinda insists.
While Maxwell is busy talking to Dayton, Sebastian takes the opportunity to move back to Savannah’s side.
“Miss Ward, are you well?” he inquires softly.
Savannah stares at him and stands up beside Belinda. “Quite. Thank you for asking.”
“I apologize if they became aggressive. I hope it doesn’t ruin your evening.”
“Of course, not,” she murmurs and glances over at Dayton.
“It’s time for the final dance of the evening,” Belinda signals her husband.
“A Waltz,” Dayton replies from behind Sebastian. “I believe I reserve that right.”
“Of course, Dayton.” Savannah curtseys and accepts the arm Dayton offers.
“Good evening, Mr. Medill,” Dayton says and guides Savannah onto the floor.
Finally, Savannah is in the arms of the only man she cares about. “I don’t think my feet shall ever recover from tonight,” she teases softly.
Dayton whirls with her, following the steps in his mind and ignoring the way she fits him so perfectly. Her scent enveloped him, and his body betrays him by craving her.
“I’m sure. You’ve been quite busy,” Dayton quips.
Savannah stares at him, surprised at the anger she feels coming off him in waves. “Have I offended you in some way?”
“I’m fine, Miss Ward, but perhaps you’d do well to remember that you have a reputation to think about. While your flitting about with the elite and planning your future people are talking. Pictures are being taken. I suggest you consider your family.” Dayton glares down at her and sees the moment his words impact her heart.
“I’ve done nothing wrong, Mr. Patrick,” Savannah replies softly.
“Not yet. See that you don’t,” Dayton is relieved when the song ends, and he escorts her to the dining room.
The next few hours pass in a whirl of food, wine, and questions. Savannah hides her pain when Dayton switches seats with Sebastian. She decides to enjoy the atmosphere and smiles when Sebastian questions her about her family’s business. Time and again, Savannah turns the conversation back to Dayton’s Race track and Survivor.
When the meal is finally over, Savannah glances around for Dayton and finds him in a corner teasing a tall, elegant blonde. Hurt flickers behind her eyes, but she tamps it down. Idiot! She thinks. Her eyes narrow, and she tucks her hands under the table to hide the trembling fists.
Sebastian offers to escort her back to the lady’s parlor, and she flicks her eyes towards Dayton, hoping he will see the position he’s leaving her in.
“Thank you, but I’m sure Dayton will be here shortly.”
Sebastian frowns at her in obvious concern. He glances around the room, and his eyes widen in surprise at her escorts obvious flirtations. “It would seem that he’s forgotten his duty to you. If you’ll excuse me.” He bows and heads to the corner. In a matter of moments, he has stolen Dayton’s date.
Savannah stands and stares at Dayton who quickly walks to her side and offers his arm. Silently, he walks her back to the lady’s parlor and leaves without a word.
Glancing around, Savannah decides it’s time for her to take her leave.
“Belinda, would you mind if Maxwell escorted me back to the elevator? Dayton is occupied.”
“Are you sure, Savannah? There will be fireworks,” she says.
“I’m sure. My mission is complete.”
Belinda looks at her and nods. “Of course, wait here,” she stomps away, muttering in French.
Savannah leaves the parlor, seeking a moment of quiet away from the chattering, giggling, and hateful glances of Mothers trying to find a match for their daughters.
“Miss Ward?” Sebastian calls to her, and she tamps back her sigh of frustration. He’s a first-class clinger. She almost giggles at the thought. Too much wine, Savannah, she tells herself.
“Mr. Medill,” Savannah curtsies again.
“Call me, Sebastian.”
Savanna twitches in surprise. He doesn’t wait for his words to sink in. “May I escort you outside to watch the fireworks?” he offers.
“Thank you, but I’m retiring for the evening.” Maxwell is making his way through the crowd towards her.
“That’s too bad, I’d hoped to get to know you better,” he says softly.
Savannah looks up at him in surprise. “That’s kind of you, Mr. Medill, but I’m returning home tomorrow. I need to rest before my journey, it was lovely meeting you.”
“I see,” he frowns and glances away in embarrassment. “Perhaps we will meet again. At the race in a few weeks?”
“It’s possible. My brother Glenn will have a horse in the race,” she smiles.
“Excellent, then I will have to make a trip to Kentucky. Any insider tips on who to bet on?” he asks as Maxwell walks up to them.
“Always bet on a Patrick, they don’t like to lose,” Savannah quips.
His smile fades a bit, and he bows and takes his leave. Savannah watches him go and wonders why she couldn’t be attracted to a man like that. Not a hot head, stubborn buffoon, like Dayton Patrick.
Maxwell escorts her from the room to the elevator. Later, after she’s stripped from the gown, she watches the fireworks from her suite with a glass of wine. When the first tear slips free, she wonders why she’s crying.
Tonight, was supposed to be about thanking Dayton for helping her, and somehow, she messed up. It’s a terrible feeling to think he’s ashamed of her. Anger follows that thought. “I did nothing wrong.”
Dayton’s image flits in her mind, his smile, his kiss, the way her heart pounds when he gets close to her
. “I can swear that I don’t love him, but I won’t lie to myself,” she sobs and drops her face into her hands. This is going nowhere. “I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him!”
“It’s time to go home, Savannah.”
Chapter 41
Dayton is watching the fireworks with a giggling vaporous, blonde. He watched Maxwell escort Savannah to the elevator. It’s for the best,
Dayton tells himself. But in his heart, he knows it’s for his best, not hers. He smiles at the blonde who squeals in delight at the fireworks, and he wishes Savannah was by his side.
After the fireworks, Dayton escaped to the men’s lounge for a brandy and to his delight, found that his plan had worked. He’d received repeated offers tonight from many of the men he’d hoped to speak to. They all offered the same price per share which was a total surprise.
Maxwell smiles and walks over to him with a cigar. “Dayton don’t forget to put me down for a share of the track. I’ll give you the money in the morning over breakfast. A thousand dollars for ten shares?”
“Of course, but why ten shares?” Dayton asks out of curiosity.
“Did I get the number wrong? Savannah said it was ten shares for a hundred a share. At least that’s what she told everyone else.” Maxwell takes a drag on his cigar and observes Dayton’s reaction.
“She did what?” Dayton gasps.
“That’s what I thought,” Maxwell sighs, “you’d better come sit down.”
Later, Maxwell and Dayton corner Belinda in the great room as she says goodbye to the last of their guests. “Darling, do you have something to share with Dayton?”
Belinda whirls on him with her hands on her hips and begins to shout at him in rapid French. Maxwell struggles not to laugh at the look on Dayton’s face. “Buffoon!” She almost cuffs him upside the head but is able to restrain herself with help from her husband.
“You broke her heart! All of this was for you, the dress, the dancing…My God, do you think she wanted to be pawed by every man in this ballroom? I’ve only known her for two days, and I know her better than you do!”
“What are you talking about?” Dayton growls.
Maxwell turns to glare at Dayton, “Give me a moment with my wife.”
He drags her to a corner, and they speak quickly while she answers his rapid-fire questions. “Belinda! Why did you let her do that?” Maxwell shouts.
Belinda points at him and shouts another curse word in French before excusing herself for the evening.
“What am I not seeing?” Dayton asks.
Maxwell runs a hand over his mustache and goatee, in clear frustration. “They hatched a plan to fill Savannah’s dance card with the men Belinda believed to be the best choice to raise money for your race track. She chose the dress to draw as much attention as possible. While they danced, Savannah filled their minds with images of your dream, suggesting the cost per share.”
“At the price of one hundred dollars per shares with a minimum of ten shares to buy in?” Dayton stammers.
Maxwell struggles not to laugh, and soon both men are howling. “Genius! They are brilliant,” Maxwell says when he can compose himself. Dayton’s laughter fades.
“Oh, I’ve really hurt her,” Dayton runs a hand over his face. “I basically accused her of searching for a rich husband. I thought she was using me.”
“Let’s get another drink. You’ve got to fix this,” Maxwell demands, “and I need to let my wife cool down.”
Dayton returns to his suite and finds it dark and quiet. Savannah’s scent fills the air, and he inhales deeply. He realized something tonight watching her dance with other men. He’s in love with her! If he didn’t screw this up, he will apologize in the morning and convince her they were meant to be together.
Blue eyes full of retribution stare at the fireworks from a wooden warehouse on the docks of Lake Michigan and grins. His plan will work perfectly. S.E. Ward will pay for destroying his plans. Hatred gleams in his eyes as he watches them dance and swirl with the elite while he hides in the dark like a bug. A cow moos and he growls, “Shut up.”
“Tomorrow the fool will walk away from her at some point, and when he does, I’ll be ready.”
The train ride in coach was well worth it. It allowed him time to plan and decide how best to deal with S.E. Ward. He drinks from a flask in his pocket and glares at the sky.
Chapter 42
“I need to make sure my bags are ready to go, could you send my tickets to my suite?” Savannah asks.
“Of course,” the clerk replies. “Let’s verify, one first-class ticket on the Central Pacific railway at ten a.m. train bound for Indiana.
“That’s correct, I’d also like to send a telegram,” she quickly pays for the telegram and waits for the confirmation. It’s to her Father to let them know that she will miss the race.
Savannah woke to a note from Dayton that he had a breakfast meeting, which worked perfectly with her plans.
“We’ll send a concierge to collect your bags in about thirty minutes,” the clerk suggests.
“Excellent,” Savannah walks quickly through the lobby and returns to her suite.
Packing doesn’t take as long as she thought. She runs a hand over the beautiful gown from last night and decides to leave it with a note for Dayton. Using a hairpin from her bag, she attaches the note and steps back.
Her heart is pounding as her mind screams at her that she’s a coward. Stay and fight! If you love him… but the image of him glaring at her last night and his hateful insinuations fill her mind. The thought of it has her sniffing back tears. “I can’t stay and cause his dreams to be damaged.” When did you become so dependent on him, Savannah Ward?
Turning from the dress, she grabs her bags and carries them into the living room. Her canvas bag will travel with her. It has one change of clothes, night things, and her pistol. She lifts her travel dress and slides her blade into the sheath inside her boot. Tucking it inside her back she stands up and straightens her soft yellow dress.
A knock sounds out, “Concierge,” a voice calls.
Savannah opens the door and screams as a man rushes inside and strikes her, knocking her from her feet, tossing her bag to the ground. He grabs her from behind as she tries to crawl away from him. A chloroform rag covers her mouth and Savannah fights, struggling for her freedom, tossing hairpins to the floor. Savannah grabs a chair, knocking it sideways, but soon the blackness closes in on her, and she falls over. A rolling cart waits in the hallway. He drags it inside and lifts her body, dropping it inside and covers her with sheets before pushing the cart down the hallway.
Dayton steps from the elevator, passing a concierge in the hall, who glances away as he passes him. Belinda informed him that Savannah was seen in the lobby. His breakfast meeting turned out much better than he anticipated. Savannah’s plan was brilliant, he was able to secure over thirty thousand in investment money. With a promise to spread the news the number could grow much higher. He can’t wait to share the news with Savannah!
The concierge turns the corner and starts to run for the staff elevator. He shakes nervously, as he waits for the elevator to reach his level and open.
Dayton turns the corner and slows in his tracks. The door to the suite is cracked open. He pushes it open and stands in shock at the state of the room. Chairs are knocked aside and on the ground are a few hairpins he recognizes, and Savannah’s carpet bag is tossed on its side.
“Savannah!” he roars. His mind races as he runs through the suite looking for her and it strikes him. “The concierge!”
He runs from the room, bumping into a second concierge in the hallway. He seizes him by the throat. “Where is she?”
“Who?” the terrified man gasps. “I brought the tickets,” he wheezes.
Dayton releases the pressure from his throat and shoves the tickets in his coat pocket. “Where do the concierge take the sheets?”
“We... we use the staff elevator. I can show you!” They run, and Dayton prays that
he’s in time to save Savannah.
The man giggles as the doors slide shut and pats the rolling cart. He drinks from the flask in his pocket, and his smile fades as it stops on level four. When the door opens, he pointed at the young maid trying to walk inside, “No, you don’t want to be in here.”
“Oh, I can take those for you,” the maid offers and grabs the cart.
“No!” he shoves her back out of the elevator ignoring her shout of outrage. She slams into the wall just as another maid comes around the corner. “Are you alright?”
“That’s man is crazy! We need to report him.”
“No!” He screams as the elevator doors slide shut and move down another level, only to stop again.
Dayton watches the elevators slow progress and smiles. “Go get Maxwell Fields, tell him to call the Sheriff, now!”
“Yes, Sir,” the young man runs using the steps. Dayton follows and checks each level. He runs, fast, down the steps thankful that the rising rooms are still lower than he is.
Two young maids are complaining to Maxwell when a concierge runs up looking terrified. “He said for you to call the Sheriff!”
“Who?” Maxwell demands.
“Dayton Patrick! He said a man took Savannah!” he quickly fills Max in on the details.
Max turns and shouts for security. “Lockdown the Hotel, Especially the staff elevators. No one in or out!”
Dayton runs, desperate to reach the bottom level before the elevator. He makes it to the bottom level, just as the man slams through the exit doors on the bottom of the Hotel. A swift punch sends him flying backward and skidding to a stop at Dayton’s feet.
“Fred!” Dayton growls and grabs him by his throat and slams him into the wall. “Where’s Savannah!”
Fred starts laughing, just as Maxwell shouts out orders to his Security to start searching for her. “Seize him!” Two large men grab Fred and lift him from his feet by an arm on each side.
