A Scandalous Deal

by Joanna Shupe

  “Excellent. I’ll just keep your family members here so they may hear the outcome as well.”

  All three men winced. Feeling victory close at hand, Eva crossed to the bell pull to ring for the butler.

  The Gotham Club bustled with early evening activity, gentlemen coming and going before the whirl of parties and soirees began. Phillip hadn’t entered the social club, however. Instead he lurked in the shadows, waiting. He felt like the thug Eva had once accused him of being.

  How had she seen through him so clearly?

  He missed that about her, her keen perceptiveness. It was one of the qualities that made her a great architect, the ability to see things others could not. But that wasn’t all he missed. He had come to look for her everywhere in the city, each splash of red hair drawing his eye.

  Mostly he missed her at night. He could not go past Twenty-Fourth Street without recalling some of their evenings spent there, her warm and willing body wrapped around his own. Kisses that drugged him, made him delirious with want and need. Her scent, her taste . . . Damn it, he ached for her.

  What could he do about it? Had he ruined everything between them for good?

  A carriage pulled up and Phillip tensed. Sure enough, Mortimer Hall descended the steps to the walk. Phillip slipped out from the alley to trail him. Before they reached the club stairs, Phillip grasped the other man’s elbow. “A word, if you please.”

  Hall’s entire body jerked. His gaze rounded when he spotted Phillip over his shoulder. “What do you want, Mansfield?”

  “To talk.”

  “I don’t have anything to say to you.” Hall tried to extract his arm from Phillip’s grip.

  Phillip held fast and began towing the other man toward the alley. “Oh, but I have plenty to say to you.”

  “Unhand me. Good Lord, Mansfield. Have you lost your mind?”

  Though Hall tried to resist, Phillip was bigger and much stronger. He forced Becca’s father into the dim alley and shoved him against the rough brick. “I haven’t lost my mind but apparently you have.”

  Hall straightened and adjusted his necktie. “This is beyond the pale. What do you think to do, pummel me?”

  “What I want to do is impart my unhappiness with the havoc you’ve caused. I’m told you financed the union’s strike efforts.”

  “I did. I warned you there would be repercussions for playing with my daughter’s affections, Mansfield.”

  “There were no affections, you idiot. None whatsoever on either side—and you well know it.” Phillip gave the other man a pointed look. They were both aware of where Becca’s true feelings resided . . . decidedly not with Phillip.

  “Nonsense. She would have married you. I just needed a bit more time to convince her.”

  “You mean threaten her, don’t you?”

  Hall’s expression hardened, his jaw clenched. “She is my daughter and therefore under my guidance. She’ll do what I say or—”

  The silence stretched, the only sound a rat rustling in some trash nearby. Phillip leaned in, snarling, “You’ll what? Have your own daughter committed to a sanatorium? Subjected to ice water baths and a straitjacket?”

  “We’ll never know. It’s too late now. The girl’s disappeared.”

  At least he didn’t suspect Phillip had aided Becca’s escape. “Can you blame her, with the way you treated her?”

  “It’s none of your business, Mansfield.”

  “But it is my business, Hall. You made it my problem when you took your frustration out on my hotel project. Do you know how I handle problems like you?”

  Hall lifted his chin but wisely kept silent.

  “I bury them. Did you know I have friends at the Manhattan Central Bank? Interesting fact: with enough money, one can buy mortgages from the bank. Might you guess whose mortgage I purchased today?”

  Hall paled, then turned red with fury. “How dare you! You had no right to do that.”

  Phillip shrugged. “I dared. And you had better not piss me off ever again or I’ll be calling in the full amount due.”

  Hall began sputtering, his mouth working, spittle flying as he tried to form words. “You . . . How . . . I cannot . . .”

  Phillip cupped a hand to his ear. “Sorry, I couldn’t quite hear you.”

  Pushing off from the wall, Hall shoved a finger into Phillip’s chest. “This is all because of that woman, that tart you’ve been seeing, the one working on your construction site. Strutting around and lifting up her skirts—”

  Phillip’s fist cracked across Hall’s jaw, dropping the other man like a stone. He shook out his now throbbing hand and regarded the prone man on the ground. “If you ever speak ill of Lady Eva again, I’ll do worse than hit you once. I’ll break every bone in your goddamned face. And if you don’t think I can, just ask the boys down at McGirk’s in the Bowery.”

  Hall said nothing, merely blinked up at the sky as he undoubtedly tried to get his bearings. Phillip wasted no time in departing. He’d said his piece. If Hall had an ounce of sense, he’d stay out of Phillip’s way for the rest of their lives.

  Better yet, he’d move.

  Errand completed, he found his carriage. A quick ride uptown brought him to his doorstep. His hand required ice, the knuckles already swollen and red. He crossed the threshold, ready to request the ice and a stiff drink, when a visitor stopped him short.

  “Mother?”

  Ellen Mansfield stood in the doorway to his salon. Never one to dress down, she wore a deep green dress with extensive beadwork that shimmered in the soft electric light. “Hello, Phillip.”

  “I thought you were in Newport.”

  “I was, but I had to see you.” She faced him, her expression somber. “Are you injured?”

  He shoved his hand into his pocket as he came forward to kiss her cheek. “Nothing to worry over. Shall we sit?”

  He led her into the salon where she settled on the sofa. Handing her a sherry, he poured his own whiskey and then joined her.

  She took a sip. “She is giving up nearly everything to save your precious hotel.”

  “Sorry, what? Who?”

  “Lady Eva. She is busy saving your hotel at great personal cost to herself.”

  There was much he didn’t understand about that sentence but he started with the name. “You called her Lady Eva.”

  “She told me her true identity, Phillip. To where do you think she went when she fled the city?”

  None of this made sense. He shook his head as if clearing the cobwebs from his brain. “Are you saying she traveled to Newport? I wasn’t aware the two of you were acquainted.”

  “Yes, we are acquainted. I hired her ladyship—”

  “You hired her? For what?”

  “To redesign Stoneacre.”

  His shoulders bunched, muscles tensing. “I told you to leave Stoneacre alone, Mother. You had no right to hire an architect without consulting me.”

  “Do not presume to order me about,” she said, her blue eyes snapping fire. “I am not one of your servants or employees. I may do anything I please with that house, Phillip, and we’ve enough money to build twenty Stoneacres if I so choose. Lady Eva has an amazing gift and I am more than pleased with the design she’s presented.”

  Eva had already presented designs? Yet another secret she had kept from him. He rubbed his forehead tiredly. Christ, how many more were there?

  “Incidentally, I am the one who asked her not to say anything to you. So if you are thinking of laying the blame for that at her feet as well, you may forget it.”

  Had his thoughts been so obvious? “What did you mean, she is giving up nearly everything to save the hotel?”

  “Do you not know of the bargain she’s struck?” He shook his head and she continued, “I hear she has agreed to limit her visits to the site to one hour a day during the dinner shift change if the union agrees not to raise a ruckus over who actually authored the plans. The men will resume work tomorrow.”

  The hair on the back of Phil
lip’s neck stood up. “One hour? At the same time each day? I never would agree to that.”

  “I’ve no doubt that’s true. But she has agreed to it—for you. You, Phillip. No one else. The girl is in love with you.”

  I’ve . . . fallen for you. He hadn’t believed her declaration, assumed her selfish motives had prompted it. Now he wasn’t sure what to believe. “I’m assuming she consented because she didn’t want to lose the project.”

  “Wrong, my dear boy. She shall use her own name on my Newport house, which means she won’t have to hide under the E. M. Hyde identity any longer. Also, she stands to pocket quite a bit of money as well. In short, she doesn’t need your hotel project, not for those reasons.”

  He didn’t quite know what to say to that. Eva deserved success and notoriety. Of course she did. But a strange sense of disappointment rose inside him, almost as if she’d cut him out of her life.

  No, you cut her out of yours.

  He winced. He hadn’t meant to, not permanently. Yes, he’d said things, angry things, he now regretted. Disappointment and hurt had clouded his mind, making it impossible to process anything else and he’d lashed out. He truly had intended to apologize . . . once the sting had ebbed.

  Now he’d learned of other bits of information she’d withheld. Why was he always on the outside with Eva? Because she sensed you didn’t trust her, that you wouldn’t forgive her. He hadn’t given her any reason to believe in him. In them.

  Yes, he’d asked to court her but hadn’t confessed how he felt about her. Hadn’t told her he’d never cared about a woman this deeply, this . . . completely. She’d stolen into his life aboard the ship, and since then she’d slid under his skin and wrapped around his heart.

  And she’d been brave enough to tell him, a declaration he’d thrown back in her face. How could she ever forgive him?

  His mother watched him carefully, so he cleared his throat. “How do you know all this, about the negotiations and the agreement? Why are you better informed than me?”

  “I’ve just come from the Cortlands’ home. I needed to see her before she left for Newport. So do you plan to fight this resolution and fight for Lady Eva?”

  “I plan to, but she’s made her feelings on the subject very clear. I’m not certain she’ll forgive me.”

  His mother’s sigh echoed in the large room. “Nonsense. Anyone could see that she’s the perfect woman for you. Understands all the construction nonsense, stubborn, intelligent . . . Classy and beautiful. You’d be fortunate to have her. That is, if you can grovel sufficiently enough.”

  Could he win her back? Groveling hadn’t ever been necessary before. “I would think you’d disapprove, considering her scandalous string of dead fiancés.”

  “Fools. She told me all of them discouraged her interest in architecture. A talent such as hers should bloom, not wither on the vine.”

  That was surprising but still he forged ahead. “She’s informed me on several occasions that she has no interest in marrying. She believes she’ll lose her independence. Go from being in her father’s shadow into mine.”

  “Then you must make certain to step aside and let her stand in the sun. A strong man does not need to strap his wife to his side. A strong man gives her a long tether, allows her some breathing room.”

  “Is that what Father did with you?”

  “Of course. We never lived in one another’s pockets. In a marriage, you must maintain your own interests but develop common ground upon which to stand. Your father knew how to accomplish this, to not complain when I hosted events and parties. He hated society but I loved it. We compromised.”

  Compromise. He could get used to that word, if it meant keeping Eva around. Could he convince her to forgive him?

  His mother patted his arm. “You’re a Mansfield. Compromise won’t come easy, but the right woman will make it worthwhile. Now, catch the next train to Newport and get her back.”

  Eva walked along the perimeter of Stoneacre with Mr. Jacobs, the engineer Carew had recommended, the morning ocean breeze a relief after yesterday’s sweltering heat. They were discussing soil erosion and the wind, how it had affected the old stone exterior. “I suggested marble for the new house,” she told Mr. Jacobs. “Costly, but it’s able to withstand the elements better than other types of stone or brick.”

  “Agreed,” the engineer said. “Though Fall River in Massachusetts has some marvelous, unique granite. I’ll get a sample to show you next week. You might decide to use it somewhere, if not here.”

  She liked the idea of using a nearby quarry. Jacobs was smart and never shy about offering opinions—respectfully. He wasn’t condescending or smug, which she appreciated. “Excellent. Shall we go back inside? I’d like to get your thoughts on the—”

  “Good afternoon.”

  That voice. Eva’s head snapped up to find Phillip approaching, his long legs easily eating up the distance of the green lawn. The brisk wind ruffled his dark hair and molded his clothes to his large frame. The sight of him after so many lonely days caused her battered heart to leap in her chest.

  And here I was, your goose laying golden eggs.

  She exhaled slowly. That he’d believed her so calculating, so callous, had cut deep. As if she were some fortune seeker, hoping to fleece a man out of his wealth. All she’d wanted was a chance to prove herself, but Phillip hadn’t been willing to overlook their past or her gender, even after she’d apologized for her deceit. Not even after she’d revealed her feelings for him. Instead of reciprocating, he’d walked away . . . and that spoke volumes as to his regard for her.

  Build up your walls, Eva. Protect yourself.

  “Mr. Mansfield,” she said coolly as he joined them. “Your mother is not here.”

  “I came to see you, actually.”

  That caught her by surprise. Schooling her features, she quickly made the introductions between the two men.

  Phillip shook the engineer’s hand. “Jacobs, you said? You did the work on the Haverton House here, correct?”

  “Yes, sir.” Jacobs beamed, clearly pleased that Phillip had heard of his work. “As well as Chateau Bellevue.”

  “Impressive. It seems my mother’s new home is in very good hands.”

  She studied his expression. He . . . knew about the redesign of Stoneacre and wasn’t angry over it? Ellen must have informed Phillip of the project at some point in the past few days. What was that wily old woman up to?

  “Mr. Jacobs,” Phillip said. “Might I have a moment alone with Lady Eva?”

  “Oh.” Jacobs looked at her. “Your ladyship?”

  Did she want to speak to Phillip alone? They still had the hotel project in common—for now. Perhaps he was here to fire her.

  Best to get it over with, then.

  “If you’ll wait in the library, Mr. Jacobs, I’ll be but a moment.”

  The engineer nodded and tipped his cap before hurrying around the side of the house to the main entrance.

  Eva faced the ocean, closing her eyes against the bright sun and enjoying the faint sea spray on her skin as she waited for him to speak.

  “I heard about the deal you struck with the union,” he said. “I wish you had involved me. I never would have agreed to such restrictions.”

  She’d resolved the strike and he was complaining? “I wasn’t sure it would work, to be honest. And the restrictions hardly matter if you’re here to discharge me.”

  “I don’t want to fire you. I came here to apologize.”

  She cast a glance at him, his familiar handsomeness causing her throat to close. “Oh?”

  He thrust his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched and stiff. “For what I said the other night. How I reacted about the news regarding your father. I’m sorry, Eva.”

  There was little reason to hold a grudge, not when they might still be working together. “I accept your apology. Was that all you wished to discuss?”

  “I . . .” He blinked a few times. “I was angry and lashed out. I
didn’t mean any of it. I hope you know that. You’re welcome to come back to the excavation site—and to me.”

  She was welcome to come back to him? Was he serious?

  The top of her head throbbed with an oncoming ache. “I have a few things to do here first, but I should be able to return to work on the site next week.”

  What had been left out would be plain even to an idiot—and Phillip was no idiot.

  “But you’ll not return to me? To us?”

  “It’s best we not resume that part of our relationship.”

  His gaze narrowed, sparks of gold flaring in the dark depths. “So we’re back to this? Professional distance?”

  She drew in a deep breath, squared her shoulders. “The affair was lovely but we both knew it would end. There’s too much distrust between us now and I have no interest in going backward. Only forward.”

  “You said you had fallen for me. Was that also a lie?”

  No, but she almost wished it had been. “I’ll get over it.”

  His mouth compressed into an unhappy, flat line. “What if I don’t want you to get over it? What if I confessed that I had fallen for you as well?”

  Happiness burst inside her chest, an explosion of hope and excitement—but then she sobered. This was too late, all too late. “It would not change a thing. I must do what I feel is right for me, and continuing an affair with you is not in my best interest.”

  “I want to marry you, Eva, not continue an affair.”

  She blinked at him, dumbfounded. Hadn’t they settled this issue already? And that was before the fragile trust between them had been broken. “Heavens, where did marriage come from again?”

  “It never left. I never stopped wanting to marry you.”

  “Well, I haven’t changed my mind about not wanting to marry you.”

  “I don’t understand. There are no more secrets between us. I’ve forgiven you and I’ve also apologized for my behavior.” He studied her face, scrutinizing every detail as if searching for clues. “What am I missing?”

  “No, it’s rather what I am missing.” Like, a proper proposal. A firm declaration of his true feelings. A guarantee she could retain her career after marriage. Seeing her father once again. No, she stood to lose everything while he would only gain. “I know you’d rather not have the Lady Unlucky name haunting your new hotel, but I’m afraid there’s no help for it now.”