City of Schemes

by Victoria Thompson

  “She would think I’m still engaged.”

  “And perhaps even married by now, I suppose. What are you going to do?”

  “I’ve given it a lot of thought. I hardly slept at all last night, as you can imagine, and I’ve decided I’m going back to France.”

  “You are?” she asked in surprise.

  “Yes. I can’t just write and ask her to come here. I’ve got to show her my intentions are honorable, and ask her parents for her hand, and marry her there, with her family and friends to see it. I’ve got to do this properly.”

  “Oh, Logan, how could she refuse a man who would do all that?”

  “I certainly hope she couldn’t.”

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “My goodness!”

  “I don’t see any reason to wait. I’ve already told my parents. They were a little stunned, I think, but also somewhat relieved that I won’t be marrying Rosemary, if the truth were told.”

  “That isn’t surprising.”

  “Oh, Elizabeth, how can I ever thank you?”

  “I didn’t do very much at all,” she said quite modestly, because others had actually done most of the work, “but if you want to express appreciation, bring Noelle back here in time for my wedding.”

  * * *

  —

  Berta was already waiting for him when Thornton entered the bank that morning. She did not look happy or nearly as grateful as Thornton would have expected. Didn’t she realize he could refuse to give her so much as a penny? He should have thought of that last night, before he gave her the cash from his wallet.

  “You are late,” she said, rising imperiously from the bench upon which she had been sitting.

  “No, I’m not,” he said, somehow managing not to pull out his pocket watch to prove it. What did it matter? There was no sense in antagonizing her any more, at least until he had her money in his possession. “Let’s go see the bank president.”

  She seemed mildly impressed by that and allowed him to escort her to Diller’s office. Diller was obviously pleased to see them, jumping to his feet. “Is this . . . ?”

  “Yes, Miss Berta Volker,” Thornton said. He introduced Diller, and Berta acknowledged him with a small nod.

  “I’m very happy to make your acquaintance, Miss Volker. I understand you’ve just arrived in New York. How do you like it?”

  “I do not like it at all,” Berta informed him. “But I do not have any choice.”

  Diller seemed a little taken aback but he rallied quickly. “Please sit down. May I offer you some refreshment?”

  “No,” Thornton said, but Berta simultaneously said, “Yes, some tea.”

  Diller sent his secretary to fetch some tea while Thornton and Berta sat down in the client chairs.

  “May I assume that you have brought your securities with you, Miss Volker?” Diller said hopefully.

  “You may not,” she snapped.

  Diller, astonished, turned to Thornton for an explanation.

  “There was some . . . some trouble. Miss Volker had to come on ahead, but her cousin is bringing them. He should be here in a week or so.”

  “What kind of trouble?” Diller asked uneasily.

  Berta turned to Thornton, her gaze icy. “Why must this man know all of my business?”

  “He’s just trying to help,” Thornton said impatiently. That was a thankless job, however, as he was learning.

  “Then tell him how he can help, so we can leave,” she said. “I have an appointment with a dressmaker, and I do not want to be late.”

  Diller was thoroughly confused by now and Thornton tried a reassuring smile. “Miss Volker needs some funds to cover her expenses until her cousin arrives, and I’m going to advance her some money. I’d like to have twenty-five hundred in cash.”

  “Twenty-five hundred?” he echoed, a bit surprised.

  “Yes. Is that a problem?”

  “No, not at all,” Diller said. “Let me just . . . I need to instruct my staff.” He got up and left them alone in the office.

  “I do not like that man,” Berta informed him.

  Thornton was pretty sure Diller didn’t like her, either, but he didn’t say so.

  While they were waiting, a young man brought in a tray with tea things on it and a single cup of tea. He set it on the edge of Diller’s desk closest to Berta. She made a little show of adding sugar and then taking a sip. “Ach, it is cold,” she declared, setting the teacup down and pushing the tray away.

  Why on earth had Leo Vane been so eager to help this nasty woman?

  Well, that was a stupid question. For the same reason that Thornton was still willing to help her. With any luck at all, he’d only have to see her once more, when she cashed in her securities and they divided the proceeds. When that was done, his responsibility would be over. She’d lose Vane’s assistance, too, once he realized she’d made a new deal with Thornton. Thornton was actually looking forward to that revelation.

  “Mr. Thornton?” Diller said from the office doorway.

  Thornton looked up.

  “May I ask you to come with me for a moment? There are some papers to sign.”

  Berta made to stand as well, but Diller stopped her.

  “I only need Mr. Thornton. Just make yourself comfortable, Miss Volker. We won’t be gone long.”

  Diller led Thornton into a neighboring office and shut the door. The man whose office it was had left, so they were alone and Thornton saw no papers needing a signature. “I had a clerk add up your recent withdrawals, and they total twenty-three thousand dollars, including today’s. I know you assured me that you trust this Vane fellow, but that is a lot of money.”

  What Diller didn’t say was that it was also a rather large percentage of the funds Thornton had deposited here. Diller couldn’t know this was all the money Thornton had, and Thornton wasn’t about to tell him that. Better to give the impression he wasn’t at all concerned. “It’s nothing compared to what Miss Volker is worth.”

  “And you are certain she or Vane will repay you?”

  “She will more than repay me. She is going to give me half of her fortune in exchange for the assistance I have given her.”

  Diller’s frown deepened. “Mr. Thornton, that seems, uh, overly generous, don’t you think?”

  “For what I’ve done to help her? Not at all. Without me . . . Well, the less you know about it, the better. I know you’re trying to do your job, Diller, but this is my money and my business. Just give me the cash and we’ll be on our way.”

  Diller didn’t look convinced, but he said, “As you wish.”

  A few minutes later, Thornton was back in the office with Berta and a now-smiling Diller when a clerk brought in an envelope containing the money. He handed it to Thornton who tried to give it to Berta.

  “Count it,” she ordered. “I do not understand your money.”

  Thornton counted it and realized he should have asked for some extra for himself, since he’d emptied his wallet last night. He thought about slipping some bills out of the envelope but figured she’d throw a fit if she saw it. Satisfied that the amount was correct, he handed the envelope to Berta who slipped it into her purse.

  “I can go now?” she asked.

  “Why yes, you can,” Diller said. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Volker. I hope to see you very soon along with your cousin, Mr. Vane.”

  “That is not his proper name,” she said, rising from her seat. She turned and walked out without so much as a glance at Thornton, which was just fine with him. He’d be pleased not to ever see her again if it wasn’t for her money.

  “She’s not what I was expecting,” Diller said.

  “She’s not what I was expecting, either,” Thornton agreed.

  “What happened to Vane?”
<
br />   Thornton explained briefly.

  “Do you mean she’s in the country illegally?” Diller asked, alarmed.

  Thornton wanted to swear at himself for revealing too much. “No, Vane was just afraid they might stop her when they saw she was from Germany. Everything is fine,” Thornton lied.

  Diller still didn’t seem convinced, but luckily, he was also not inclined to get involved any deeper in other people’s problems. “Just be careful, Mr. Thornton.”

  Hadn’t he just promised himself he would be?

  * * *

  —

  Elizabeth was rather relieved when Oriel returned to the house. She had half expected Oriel to disappear, leaving her helpless infant behind for Sergeant Kellogg or, even worse, Elizabeth to deal with. Thankfully, Oriel did feel some responsibility for the child, even if it wasn’t always obvious.

  “What did the captain want?” Oriel asked when she’d answered Elizabeth’s questions about her errand.

  “His fiancée has broken their engagement, so he is returning to France to marry the girl he met there.”

  Oriel shook her head. “Vive l’amour,” she said with no enthusiasm.

  “I’m sure they’ll be very happy.”

  “For a while,” Oriel conceded. Plainly, Oriel had no romantic illusions.

  “And what are you going to do now?”

  “I will tell Phillipe that if he finds work, I will go with him. If not, I will go without him.”

  They hadn’t seen Phillip Kellogg since the day he left Oriel here, so Elizabeth thought it unlikely they would have a happy ending together. “How will you live?”

  “The same way I always have, only I think it will be easier here.”

  She was probably right. “Now that you’re back, I have an errand of my own to run, and tonight I’m going to have supper with my fiancé to celebrate Valentine’s Day. Would you tell my aunt where I’ve gone if she gets home before I do?”

  “Mais oui. It will give me a reason to stay here another day.” She would be using whatever excuse she could find to stay on, Elizabeth predicted.

  Elizabeth’s errand took her to the Upper West Side where the Westerly family lived in their new mansion. She knew that Friday was Rosemary and her mother’s “at home” day when they would be receiving callers. Had word gotten out about the broken engagement yet? If so, they would be swamped with curious visitors, and Elizabeth was determined to be one of them.

  But when she arrived, a maid admitted her to the parlor, where she found only Rosemary, her mother, and Lord Percy.

  Percy jumped to his feet and hurried over to greet her. “Elizabeth, how delightful to see you.” She imagined it was delightful, if he’d been keeping company with Rosemary and Mrs. Westerly for very long. He kissed her hand, earning a black look from his two hostesses.

  “Percy, what a surprise. Aren’t you afraid you’ll wear out your welcome here?” she teased.

  Rosemary laughed at that, a forced laugh that sounded a little bitter to Elizabeth. “We never get tired of Lord Percy’s company, do we, Mother?”

  “Not at all, dear,” Mrs. Westerly said with some pride. Plainly, she had high expectations for Percy.

  Mrs. Westerly invited Elizabeth to sit, so they all did. A moment of awkward silence fell before Elizabeth turned to Rosemary. “I was surprised to hear about you and Logan.”

  “Were you?” Rosemary said. “I thought perhaps you had noticed that . . . Well, that things between us had changed.”

  “I don’t think I saw the two of you together enough to really know,” Elizabeth said ingenuously.

  “Yes, well, that was part of the problem. Logan always seemed to have something else to do. It became evident to me that I would not be the most important person in his life.”

  And Logan certainly wasn’t the most important person in hers, but Elizabeth just smiled sympathetically. “It’s good you discovered that before it was too late.” She turned to Percy. “How much longer will you be with us, Percy?”

  “What do you mean by that?” Mrs. Westerly asked with a frown.

  Both women were glaring at her. She pretended to be puzzled at their reaction. “I thought Lord Percy said he must return to England soon to make some arrangements about the horses he wants to buy.”

  “Fortunately, that will no longer be necessary,” Percy said with a lazy smile.

  “Then you won’t be buying the horses after all?”

  “Lord Percy has made other arrangements to purchase them,” Rosemary said smugly.

  “Is that so? Well, I must say, I’m happy to hear it. That means we will get to see even more of you. Do you think you’ll be staying in the country through March? I’d love to have you attend my wedding.”

  “I would be honored, my dear friend,” he said.

  Elizabeth managed an apologetic look for Rosemary. “But you won’t be attending, will you, Rosemary? You would have come with Logan, but now . . .” She turned her sad face to Mrs. Westerly. “We’re just having a small ceremony at home with family and a few close friends, so the guest list is very limited.”

  “I’ll be sorry to miss it,” Rosemary said without a trace of regret.

  “It really is too bad you wasted all that time planning your own wedding,” Elizabeth said.

  “Oh, I don’t think it was wasted,” Rosemary said, and suddenly she and her mother were both smiling again.

  “Really? You can’t mean you expect to be planning another one anytime soon. I’d think that a broken engagement would put you off the thought of marriage at least for a while. But then this isn’t your first broken engagement, is it?”

  Rosemary’s smile vanished again. “I have only been engaged once.”

  “Oh yes, the others were just . . .” Elizabeth dismissed the two previous suitors with a wave of her hand.

  Percy, she noticed, was eyeing her with dismay. Perhaps she was going too far.

  “But I don’t know why I should be surprised that you have another suitor already when Logan is leaving for France tomorrow,” she continued, changing tactics.

  “France?” Mrs. Westerly echoed in surprise. “Why on earth would he be going back to France?”

  “To be married, of course.”

  Plainly, Rosemary and her mother had no idea, and even Percy looked shocked.

  “Who would he marry in France?” Mrs. Westerly wanted to know.

  “Oh dear, I thought you must have heard by now,” Elizabeth said with just the proper amount of dismay.

  “Heard what?” Rosemary demanded. “And who would Logan be marrying?”

  Elizabeth managed an apologetic wince. “The young lady he met when he was in France. They fell in love and . . . Well, how silly of me to think you would know about her. It’s not likely a man would tell his fiancée a thing like that, is it?”

  “Not likely at all,” Percy agreed stiffly.

  “But Logan had every intention of fulfilling his obligation to you, Rosemary,” Elizabeth hastily assured her. “You have to admire that in him, don’t you? He’s so honorable. But as soon as you released him from his obligation, he . . . Well, he’s going back to France.”

  “To be married,” Rosemary said faintly.

  “The cad,” Mrs. Westerly said.

  “Do you think so?” Elizabeth asked. “I’m so new to New York society that I wasn’t sure how it would look. I mean, it was Rosemary who broke the engagement, wasn’t it?”

  “Of course it was,” Rosemary said.

  “But now people might think Logan threw her over for this French girl,” Mrs. Westerly said, earning a scowl from her daughter.

  “Surely not,” Elizabeth said. “Not if Rosemary is going to be married herself. Or did I misunderstand?”

  Rosemary looked as if she would like to strangle Elizabeth, but her mother was more than capable of
handling the situation. “It would not be proper to announce an engagement so soon after ending one.”

  “I see. That seems reasonable. And in the meantime, Rosemary can enjoy receiving sympathy from her friends for Logan’s caddish behavior.”

  “No one enjoys receiving sympathy,” Rosemary pointed out. She certainly wasn’t enjoying this conversation.

  “You’re probably right. But at least you will have Percy here to help you through the awkward times. Imagine if he’d returned to England.”

  “And I will be here for you, my dear Rosemary,” he promised.

  Rosemary seemed only mildly comforted by that thought.

  “I really must apologize for breaking the news about Logan so clumsily,” Elizabeth said. “As I said, I’m new to New York society, so I’m not sure how these things are done. But I am sure that as soon as Rosemary announces her new engagement, everyone will forget about Logan deserting her for this French girl, won’t they?”

  Rosemary and her mother exchanged a look and reached a silent understanding in a matter of seconds. Then they both turned to Percy who stared back with an oblivious smile.

  “Yes,” Rosemary said with satisfaction. “Everyone will forget all about that French girl.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Percy hated the motorcar he’d been using. He much preferred something flashier, but it was far too cold this time of year for an open car. He certainly didn’t want Mr. Westerly to freeze to death, at least not until he’d provided the money Percy needed. Westerly nodded his approval when they turned into the gate of Happy Hills Farm on Monday morning.

  “Nice-looking place,” he remarked.

  Percy had managed to convince Rosemary he should discuss the horses with her father before he asked for her hand. Otherwise it would look like he was marrying Rosemary for the money. Since he was, that was the last thing Percy wanted the old man to think.

  “Wait until you see the horses,” Percy said. “Rosemary says you’re somewhat of an expert, so I value your opinion.”