What if Mr. Darrington ignored her, or even worse, what if she despised him? She didn’t have to like him entirely, she supposed, but she prayed that he would be tolerable.
Laughter rang out again, this time from a man, and Elena sighed. What would happen if she did marry him and couldn’t find a refuge in Detroit? She would suffocate for certain.
Claude knocked on the open door to her father’s library, and she called for him to come inside.
“You look stunning, Miss Elena.”
She blushed. “Thank you.”
“The Randolphs are here to accompany you.”
Was Parker the one instigating the laughter with Jillian? It didn’t surprise her that he would be the instigator—laughter seemed to follow him wherever he went—but why was he alone with Jillian?
Both her parents were waiting for her downstairs. An hour ago, Elena had promised her mother that she would in no way act like the Randolphs had wounded or even offended their family. Or that the Bissette family had been shunned from many of Chicago’s society events.
She’d assured Mama that she would be fine. She would pretend with the best of them.
Her parents kissed her cheeks.
“Would you like to join us in our carriage?” Parker asked her mother.
“It’s kind of you to offer,” Mama replied with a remarkable amount of grace, “but we will be following soon.”
Papa smiled. “We can’t stay out as late as the younger people, you know.”
“I believe you both could stay out as late as you wanted,” Parker replied. Even her mother managed a small smile.
Parker held out his arm, and Elena took it. “You look lovely as always, Lanie.”
She tugged on his elbow as they walked down the front steps. “Stop calling me that.”
He patted her arm, looking at her with mock surprise. “Lovely?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Good evening, Elena,” Mrs. Randolph said as she climbed into the carriage. Mr. Randolph nodded to her as well.
At one time, before the pressure of matrimony wedged a gulf between them, she and Parker had been good friends. She well remembered that summer, two years ago, when they’d snubbed their parents’ attempt at formal matchmaking for a day and snuck away to ride bicycles around the island. When her mother found out, she reprimanded Elena for her indiscretion and ordered up an appropriate chaperone and four notable acquaintances for a dull carriage ride. Parker had made ridiculous faces at her the entire time.
Last year Parker had spent most of their summer months in a halfhearted pursuit of her, trying to turn their childhood friendship into some sort of romance. Elena’s mother had spent those same months trying to convince Elena not to run so fast. Playing hard to get was good and fine, her mother informed her, but Parker needed to catch her every once in a while or the chase would get old. Elena was fine with the chase getting old. Her mother was not.
Even as Parker pursued her, she suspected the only reason he did so was at his mother’s insistence. They were both the only children in their prominent families, and at the time, a marriage between the families seemed ideal for both social and financial reasons.
The Bissettes owned, among other things, one of the largest factories in Chicago. Mr. Randolph had partnered with Elena’s father for three decades to make farming equipment, and it had made them both wealthy men. But after the economy crashed last year, the senior Randolph managed to manipulate the legal system and pull out of their partnership. Her father was left to pick up the pieces of the failing business that might have been salvaged if Mr. Randolph had honored their agreement.
Her father tried to keep most of the details of their financial affairs from her and Mama, but she heard the whisperings of others. Her mother was convinced that their future was bleak if Elena didn’t marry well.
Neither the Bissette nor the Randolph parents were interested in a match between their children any longer. They didn’t even seem to want to be friends. The Randolphs hadn’t invited the Bissettes to the Easter gala at their home, an annual event that every upstanding member of society attended. To not be invited was the ultimate snub. And at the McCormicks’ spring luncheon, Elena’s mother and Mrs. Randolph had refused to sit by one another. Elena had been mortified when her mother moved to an open table on the far side of the room.
Over the spring, Mama had concocted a new plan for Elena’s future, one that no longer involved Parker Randolph or his family.
Mrs. Randolph examined her face in the twilight. “We haven’t seen you in a long time.”
Elena kept her face as stoic as possible. She refused to be intimidated.
“It has been a busy season for our family,” she said. Ambiguity was always the best choice when one couldn’t tell the truth. “We have been quite preoccupied.”
“So I have heard.” Mrs. Randolph tapped her fingers on the dark blue folds of her skirt. “We have been as well.”
“So many important things to do back in Chicago.” The sarcasm weighed heavy on Parker’s lips. “At least we get to see you and your family now.”
“A delight indeed,” Mrs. Randolph replied with a slight nod.
The delight seemed to fade as they drew near the facade of the Grand Hotel, which glowed with light from their generator. Music drifted down the wide lane and into the village below. The sky was cloudy this evening, and that gave her some conciliation. If she had to be inside all evening, at least the stars were hidden as well.
Parker escorted Elena and Mrs. Randolph up the red-carpeted steps. Elena took as deep a breath as she could manage. It had been a few months since she had been to an event like this, but she’d climbed the steps of the Grand Hotel many times before. There was nothing to be intimidated by, not the imposing entrance or the lofty guests or even the venerable Mr. Darrington.
A chandelier shimmered above the crowded ballroom as they stepped inside, and people lined the ornate balcony, watching the dozens of dancers below.
“There’s Sarah Powell.” Mrs. Randolph pointed to a beautiful woman wearing a golden dress and a jeweled hair piece that glittered in the light. She looked as though she’d fallen from the night sky. “She’s the only daughter in the Darrington family.”
“And there’s her brother,” Parker murmured.
There was a man standing on either side of Mrs. Powell. Elena couldn’t see the face of the man on the far side of her, but the man closest to them had curly black hair and sharp, defined features—almost as if his face had been chiseled out of stone. He was a few inches taller than Sarah, and when he turned, he caught Elena’s gaze and bowed his head toward her. Elena could feel a blush swimming up her cheeks, and she hoped he would think the heat of the room was warming her skin.
The man glanced back and forth between her and Parker, and then he stared at her with open admiration. She looked away.
At least it hadn’t taken long for her to get Mr. Darrington’s attention. Her mother would be pleased.
The orchestra began a new song and the guests began a fast Viennese waltz across the shiny floor.
Parker offered his arm. “Shall we dance?”
“I—I don’t know.”
“That’s why we’re here, Lanie. To dance.”
She didn’t protest, but dancing was only a means to an end for her. She was here to meet Mr. Darrington.
Parker didn’t ask again. Instead, he whisked her onto the dance floor and she followed his lead, her posture perfect more in an attempt to breathe than impress any man. She tried to scan the crowd as Parker rotated her, but she was moving too quickly to recognize faces.
Where had Mr. Darrington gone, and if she found him, would he be interested in spending time with her? What would happen to her family if he wasn’t?
When the dance ended, she pulled Parker off the floor. “I need to catch my breath.”
He grinned. “Did I steal it?”
“Your dancing did.”
He took her hand and led her to
ward a long white-clothed table decorated with displays of fresh flowers and vines. Woven through the flowers were platters of shrimp, oysters on the half shell, iced salmon, cheese, bread, and pastries powdered with sugar and surrounded by fresh cherries and blueberries.
“I’m told they’re serving some sort of icy raspberry concoction for punch.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
When he left to retrieve the punch, she waited by a column and listened to the laughter around her. Did other people actually enjoy evenings like this, or were they all putting on a show, to be seen in their successes by the people they deemed important?
She heard a woman’s voice behind her, talking loudly to compete with the roar of the music. “Did you hear what happened to Elena Bissette?”
Elena didn’t turn, but she knew who was talking about her: Gracie Frederick. The debutante was always nice to the people around her, but she could be as venomous as a cobra when her prey was away. Two years ago, Gracie’s favorite suitor for the summer had turned his attention to Elena. Elena hadn’t been the least bit interested in the man, but ever since, Gracie had done everything in her power to damage Elena’s reputation.
The orchestra stopped playing, but Gracie didn’t appear to realize it. Her next words echoed across the room. “Elena went sprawling across the pier.”
People turned toward Gracie, many of them stopping to look at Elena before their gazes swept the floor.
In that moment, Elena wished the dance floor would open up and swallow her. Or that the magician back on the Manitou would snap his fingers and make her disappear. Someone had reported her fall back to the circuit, and they were gladly passing it along.
She sighed. There were no secrets on Mackinac.
She heard the snickering as Gracie relayed the facts of the story about the wayward hat. Then the exaggerations began.
“She knocked two or three people down when she fell,” Gracie said. “Then she lay there for a minute or so, her skirts up to her chest.”
Someone gasped. “No—”
She could confront Gracie about her inaccuracies, but it wouldn’t do any good. People cared more about a good story than the truth, and as they pushed the story along, they’d probably enjoy talking about Elena’s anguish alongside of it.
A good actress never let the reviews bother her anyway.
“The Bissettes always summer here,” another woman replied.
Gracie lowered her voice, and Elena inched closer.
“Yes, but this year, I heard they’re on the verge of bankruptcy,” she confided.
“Bankruptcy?”
“Her father lost nearly everything last year. Bad investments, I’m told.”
Elena’s hands began to tremble inside her gloves, and a wave of heat climbed to her face. How dare Gracie talk about her father’s loss with so much glee?
“My father says he is a terrible manager of money.”
Elena’s hands shook harder, and she took as deep a breath as possible, trying to calm herself. She could pretend not to care what Gracie said about her accident on the pier, but she wasn’t going to let this woman insult her father.
She smoothed her hands over her gown and stepped forward into the circle with as pleasant a smile as she could manage. “Hello, Gracie.”
Gracie’s smug smile collapsed.
“Elena—” she stuttered.
“If you’re going to talk about my family, you should probably get the facts straight.”
Gracie’s voice returned. “I didn’t realize you were going to be here tonight.”
“Of course not. If you’d known, you would have chosen another topic to entertain your audience.”
“I’m only telling the story that Minnie Falstand told me.”
“I don’t recall seeing Minnie at the pier.”
“It doesn’t matter that much, I suppose.”
Elena swallowed hard, trying to shape her next words. “If you’re so interested in my fall, please talk about it all you’d like, but you don’t know a thing about my father or his financial state.”
Gracie’s chin lifted a notch. “My father knows all about it.”
Elena mustered the perfect smile for the small circle of people dressed in their fashionable clothes and balancing their glasses of wine or mineral water in their hands. “I seem to remember a little incident last year at Skull Cave…. Let’s see, who was it that got stuck—?”
Gracie stopped her. “There is no need to repeat gossip.”
“Your story isn’t gossip?”
“Not the part about the pier. Minnie said she knew for certain what happened.”
“I slipped, I fell, and I got right back up again,” Elena said. “It wasn’t nearly as entertaining as you and Minnie seem to think.”
The impeccably dressed man who had been admiring her earlier stepped forward. Mr. Darrington, she assumed. “It’s those ridiculously long dresses you ladies wear,” he said. “I’m surprised the lot of you don’t trip every time you go out.”
Gracie blinked. “You prefer shorter dresses along with bloomers?”
“Most certainly.”
“Elena Bissette, have you met Edward—” Gracie was interrupted by another blast of the trumpets. “Oh, bother.”
Edward stayed beside her as the others fled toward the dance floor. She didn’t care if he heard about her fall, but she hoped he hadn’t heard about her family’s financial state. If he knew the truth, he might never consider the union of their families.
Edward nodded down at her, but instead of pleasure in his eyes, she saw arrogance. His tailored black tuxedo with tails was certainly one of a gentleman’s, like Lottie Ingram described, but he wasn’t nearly as handsome as his aunt implied. Nor did he have Parker’s genuine smile or the confident smile her father liked to flash to make her think everything was all right.
Edward might be considered handsome, but there was something behind the facade that disturbed her. It was as if he expected Elena to enjoy the pleasure of his company without his attempting to enjoy hers. But if this was the man who could rescue their family’s state, she would be polite enough. The way he looked at her—it didn’t seem like it would be too difficult to hook him.
The man saluted her with his drink. “Well done on the retort.”
Her face felt warm again. “Someone had to set the story straight.”
He emptied his glass and motioned for one of the waiters to take it. For a moment she thought she’d lost him, but he returned his attention to her. “I trust you’ve had a good summer so far.”
She nodded. “With the exception of my fall.”
His laugh was dry, and as he stepped even closer to her, she could smell the bourbon and tobacco on his breath. The plight of her entrance on Mackinac didn’t seem to discourage him, nor did the news of her father’s impending bankruptcy—if he knew about the bankruptcy.
She glanced over his shoulder, searching the room. Had her parents arrived yet? Her mother would be most pleased that she’d already received a proper introduction to Mr. Darrington. Once her mother saw that Elena had made his acquaintance, she would dance again with Parker.
Mr. Darrington asked questions about her and her family, but the more he probed, the more her sense of comfort faded. Even though they stood in the midst of several hundred people, she felt as if she might need to run. The way he looked at her made her cringe, licking his bottom lip as if he were hungry.
She wanted him to find her attractive, for her parents’ sake, but she didn’t like the feeling that she was an item to be chosen from a menu. No matter how hungry the man was.
Parker slid to her side, clutching a glass of red punch. “I’m sorry it took so long. I—”
His sentence dropped off as he eyed Mr. Darrington standing next to her.
“Parker Randolph,” she said, “I would like you to meet Mr. Edward Darrington.”
Instead of greeting Parker, Mr. Darrington appeared to be surprised at her words.
Ha
d she been wrong to introduce the two men? Sometimes it was difficult to know who was avoiding who, like her mother and Mrs. Randolph. Mr. Darrington cleared his throat.
“My friends call me Edward,” he finally replied, speaking more to her than to Parker.
Parker held out the punch glass for her. “Edward and I picnicked together yesterday.”
“Picnicked?”
Parker nodded. “Over on Bois Blanc. It was only a small group of us. Edward and his brother-in-law and his w—”
Edward interrupted him. “Would you like to dance?”
“No, thank you,” Parker quipped. “My feet are killing me.”
Elena almost laughed at the surprise on Edward’s face.
His eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t speaking to you.”
Over Parker’s shoulder, Elena met the eyes of Edward’s beautiful sister, but Sarah Powell wasn’t smiling. In fact, it looked like she’d swallowed a cherry pit.
Elena looked back at Edward.
Parker took the punch glass from her hand before she took a sip. “Elena and I were about to dance.”
Worry creased her forehead as she glanced back and forth between them. Either Parker was jealous, or he thought there was something wrong with Mr. Darrington.
Edward reached for her hand. “Surely you can spare her for one waltz.”
She looked down at her glove encompassed firmly in Edward’s fingers, and the urge to run overwhelmed her. No matter what her mother said, no matter how badly her father’s business was faring, she didn’t think she could marry this man.
“I was actually on my way to the powder room,” she said, trying to keep her voice light. Though she refused to wince, her fingers actually hurt in Edward’s grasp. She couldn’t imagine being married to a man who treated her like a possession instead of a person. Someone who demanded she succumb to him instead of respecting her will and intellect.
“I will take the next dance, then,” he insisted.
Sarah Powell glided up beside her, her golden dress trailing down her slender figure. Elena smiled at her, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes were on Edward instead. “Dancing is a fine idea.”
Love Finds You in Mackinac Island, Michigan Page 9
