A Scandalous Deal

by Joanna Shupe

  His brows slammed down. “You think this is about the hotel? I am not concerned about the future of the hotel. I had hoped to convince you to trust me, believe that I’ll do right by you as a husband.”

  Trust him? After he’d tossed her aside so easily? “I know this is about the hotel, about giving me credibility and your protection. But I need a partner, not a keeper. I cannot marry, give away my rights and my work, on such blind faith—not to a man who has shown me very little reason to trust him.”

  He winced. “I realize that’s true. I’ve handled much of this badly. And no one said you must give anything away.”

  “So you no longer believe it was a mistake to let me stay? To let a woman oversee the building of your hotel?”

  The question seemed to catch him unaware, as if he hadn’t remembered making the comment. “You’ve done a fine job, Eva. The project is under budget and ahead of schedule. How could I complain?”

  A nice way of evading the question. “Why not send me back to London? You have E. M. Hyde’s plans. You don’t need me any longer. Hire another architect to see it finished.”

  “I’m trying to tell you why, you daft woman. I want to marry you. Have you by my side. Forever.”

  All of this just felt wrong. Every instinct, every bit of intuition was telling her no. The foundation of a marriage had to be strong, and there was nothing but weakness—hurt and distrust—between them now. “I cannot. None of that is good enough. I deserve better.” A knot settled in her chest, making it hard to breathe, and she turned to walk to the house.

  “Wait.” He grasped her wrist. “Tell me what you need. Tell me how I can be good enough. Please, don’t walk away from me, Eva.”

  She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t change him into someone else, force him to put her needs equal with his. Couldn’t have made him bare his heart. “I’m sorry,” she said, pulling free of his grip. “But you should return to the city.”

  Without glancing back, she ran into the crumbling house.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Eva was shoving her papers into a large leather case when Nora burst into the room. “Am I understanding this correctly? You’re going to Newport for the rest of the summer—without me?”

  Eva had returned to the city late last night after Phillip’s disastrous visit to Stoneacre. All she wanted now was to pack her things and escape to the seaside for a few weeks. Go to a place where she wouldn’t need to see Phillip or the hotel, where work would keep her busy.

  “Hello, Nora. You are welcome to come, of course, though I’ll be working. We start demolition on Stoneacre in two weeks.”

  Nora dropped onto the bed. “Oh, boo. You won’t go with me to any of the parties. Neither will Julius, so I might as well stay here, then.” She watched Eva pack for a long beat. “I’ll miss you. I wish he hadn’t driven you out of the city.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Eva said quickly. “He didn’t drive me away. Another project is taking me to Newport. And I’ll be going to London in a month or so to check on my father. None of that has anything to do with Phillip.”

  “I wish I believed that, but I know you too well. The man has broken your heart and you’re running away. Again.”

  She hated that Nora knew her so well. “He came to see me yesterday.”

  Nora’s eyes went wide. “He did? What did he want?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “To apologize. And to ask me to marry him.”

  “Marry him? Goodness! What did you say?”

  “It wasn’t a proper proposal, really, more like an idea. And I said no, of course.”

  “Oh.” Deep grooves emerged in Nora’s forehead as she contemplated this. “I don’t understand.”

  “He said I was welcome to come back to the excavation site . . . and to him.”

  Nora’s jaw dropped. “That’s a bit short on the romance. Did he say how he feels about you?”

  Eva’s chest tightened like a fist. “No, he didn’t. Though he did ask what I would say if he confessed he’d fallen for me.”

  “Talk about beating around the bush. Was he afraid his feelings wouldn’t be returned?”

  “No. I had already confessed that I’d fallen for him. He is well aware of how I feel.”

  “Oh, Eva.” Nora’s gaze swam with sympathy. “Undoubtedly Mansfield thought you would swoon at his feet after the marriage proposal. Most women would have, you know.”

  “He is welcome to them, then. I won’t marry a man who doesn’t trust and believe in me. And who isn’t willing to put me first.”

  “Shall I kick him in the shin? Better yet, we could have Julius ruin his finances.” She wiggled her fingers ominously.

  “Not necessary, but thank you for the kind offers.” Eva smiled at her closest friend. “If I change my mind, you’ll be the first to know.”

  Nora smoothed her skirts, not meeting Eva’s eye. “Do not take this the wrong way, but are you certain you shouldn’t talk to him again? Perhaps after the two of you have had some time to think.”

  “I hardly see the point. What’s done is done.”

  A knock on the door sounded and Nora went to open it. A footman held out a salver. “A cable for your ladyship.”

  “Which one?” Nora asked.

  “Lady Eva,” the young man said, his ears turning red.

  Eva thanked him and picked up the paper. Unfolding it, she read the message.

  You are needed at the hotel site. Come quickly.

  Signed, Frank Tripp, Esq.

  She tapped the paper against her hand, thinking.

  “What is it? What does it say?” Nora asked.

  “It’s a request to come to the construction site.”

  “So what are you waiting for?”

  “It’s strange, is all. This is from Phillip’s attorney, Frank Tripp.”

  “Oh, I know Frank. He’s one of my husband’s close friends. Devilishly clever, that one.”

  Eva glanced at the clock on the mantle. If this didn’t take long, she could still make the afternoon train to Newport. “I guess I had better hurry.” She plucked a bonnet from the pile in the dressing room, found a pair of matching gloves.

  When she returned to the bedroom, Nora was waiting there, her own bonnet and gloves in hand. “I’m coming with you.”

  “Why?”

  “Intuition.” Her friend was nearly bouncing on her toes. “Something tells me this is going to be worth seeing.”

  A crowd had spilled onto Fifth Avenue, almost completely blocking the busy thoroughfare. “What is happening?” Eva peered out the window of the brougham. “We’d best get out here and walk.”

  Nora agreed and ordered the driver to pull over. When the wheels finally stopped, the two women descended to the street.

  “What on earth . . . ?” Eva took Nora’s arm and began threading through the throngs of people.

  “Is this normal?” Nora clasped her parasol higher as if ready to defend them at any moment.

  “No. This appears to be Mr. Milliken’s crew.” Not that she recognized the multitude of diverse faces, but their hats and working clothes were similar to the men who had toiled on the excavation these past few weeks.

  As they edged toward the main entrance, the shouting increased and the crowd grew thicker. Eva didn’t hear any of the machinery that usually dominated the site. Why weren’t these men at work? The deal with the union had been struck two days ago.

  The laborers lingering on the walk moved aside as she passed, letting her through. That was . . . odd. No hostility, just open curiosity. “Why are they all staring at you?” Nora whispered at her side.

  “I have no idea.”

  She spotted Frank Tripp near the front, his arms raised as he tried to calm a group of angry workers. “Frank!” she called.

  His head swiveled and he nearly sagged at the sight of her. “Thank God,” he said, starting for her. “Lady Eva, I am incredibly happy to see you. Hello, Nora.”

  “Frank, what is happening?” Nora asked.
“Did the workers strike once more?”

  He gave a dry, humorless laugh. “No. It’s the owner on strike this time.”

  “The owner?” Eva blinked. “But that means . . .”

  “Yes,” Frank confirmed. “He’s gone and lost his damn mind, if you’ll pardon the vulgarity.”

  Eva waved it away. She’d certainly heard worse. “Where is he?”

  “At the gate. Which he’s locked. He refuses to turn over the key, and no one quite knows what to do.”

  “Why on earth would he do that?” Nora asked.

  “Because of her.” Frank pointed at Eva. “Says he won’t let the workers back in until they agree to allow Lady Eva back in as well.”

  “What?” Eva rocked back on her heels. “That is foolhardy.”

  Frank lifted his hands in surrender. “I won’t disagree with you. However, he’s a man possessed. I’ve never seen him like this.”

  “Go,” Nora said, shooing Eva with her hands. “Find a way to fix this.”

  Eva twisted and turned through the men mulling about, most of the laborers grumbling about the strange owner and wondering why he wouldn’t allow them to just work. Eva had to agree. This went against everything she knew about Phillip’s personality.

  Was he really doing this for her?

  At the gate, Mr. Milliken was there, engaged in a staring contest with Phillip. Neither man blinked, their intense gazes locked in a battle of wills. Good Lord. The last thing they needed was a brawl erupting right here.

  She stepped between them, her back to the general contractor. “Phillip, what are you doing?”

  He didn’t glance away from Milliken. “Taking a stand.”

  “But this is madness. Open the gate and allow the men inside.”

  “Yes,” Milliken agreed. “Open the gate and allow my men inside.”

  “No, not until they agree to give my architect complete access to the site, whenever she likes.”

  “She already agreed to the terms, Mansfield,” Milliken snapped. “The deal’s done.”

  “Then we need to renegotiate because I’m not satisfied.”

  “We cannot do that!” Milliken said, slapping his bowler hat against his thigh.

  Eva turned toward the general contractor. “Mr. Milliken, if you’ll give me a moment to speak with Mr. Mansfield in private?”

  Shaking his head and mumbling, Milliken stalked off into the crowd. Eva approached Phillip, who appeared on the razor’s edge of sanity this morning. Dark circles lined his eyes and his hair was disheveled. He hadn’t shaved either, the dark stubble causing him to look roguish and deliciously dangerous.

  Stop. Absolutely no thinking along those lines, Eva.

  “Phillip, what are you doing?”

  “I’m trying to help you. Are you truly satisfied with the deal you struck?”

  No, she wasn’t . . . but she’d been desperate to end it. To keep Phillip’s hotel on schedule. To finish and return to her father in England. “I had to get them back to work. The strike was my fault, so I deserved whatever stipulations they put on the resolution.”

  “Wrong—and I never would have agreed to that. You are the architect. You deserve to be here, no matter the hour. This is your project.”

  She could hear the conviction in his words, could see the truth blazing in the dark depths of his eyes. And while the sentiment touched her, the deal had been done, papers signed. They could not go back on the agreement now, not unless they wanted to risk the entire project.

  Closing half the distance between them, she said, “I appreciate your support. It means a great deal to me. But if this is some ploy to get me to change my mind about us, you are wasting your time.”

  “It’s not.” A muscle jumped in his strong jaw. “I know I’ve lost you, that I muffed the whole thing up. I deserve that for the way I’ve treated you. You’re right—I didn’t trust you because you’re a woman, and when you lied to me that last time I felt like my fears were vindicated. It was wrong of me. So I have to fix this for you, this one thing that’s still in my control.” He hitched a thumb over his shoulder toward the silent construction area.

  “Mansfield!”

  Eva looked over to see Debs and Gray swiftly approaching, their faces mottled with anger. Milliken trailed not far behind.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Debs shouted. “Milliken tells us that you won’t let the men inside to work.”

  “Have you lost your mind?” Gray asked.

  “More like I’ve found it,” Phillip said, crossing his large arms over his massive chest. “You two struck a bargain I never would’ve agreed to. I’m here to fix it.”

  Debs pointed at Eva. “She agreed to it, and your lawyer signed for you.”

  “I’ll take you to court,” Phillip said. “That agreement will never hold up.”

  Gray threw him arms up. “This is absurd. What exactly is it you’re after, Mansfield?”

  Phillip took a step forward, toward the laborers gathered in the street, and then put his hands in the air. “Everyone, may I have your attention? Please. A moment.”

  Silence rippled through the crowd as the men all waited to hear what the hotel owner had to say.

  “Many of you objected to this woman’s presence at the worksite.” He indicated Eva. “Her name is Lady Eva Hyde, and she is the daughter of Lord Cassell, E. M. Hyde. Not only that, but she is the true architect of the Mansfield Hotel.”

  Murmuring noises floated in the air, the men glancing at one another in surprise.

  “The hotel design is completely hers, and no one else’s. So you see, she has more right than any of us to be here, overseeing the plans. She is brilliant and talented, every bit as gifted as her father—perhaps more so because she must put up with men everywhere who doubt her abilities. Like me. I doubted her but she’s proven herself time and again. Therefore, I will not allow her visits here at the site to be limited in any way. She has free rein to oversee the project as she sees fit . . . or I will not open the gates ever again.”

  “Ever again?” Debs said. “You’ll shut the whole thing down?”

  “That’s right.” Phillip gave them a cold smile. “If she is not accepted as a member of the team, with all the rights and responsibilities afforded the men, then I’ll take her plans to the West Coast and build my hotel in San Francisco instead.”

  She gasped, the meaning settling in. The loss of time and money would be staggering if he did so. Also, the city would need to find another developer for the huge piece of land, losing out on the revenue the hotel would generate for New York. This would not endear him to the locals. Was he truly willing to risk all that for her?

  The walls she’d built up to protect herself began to crumble, folding in on themselves like paper. She’d never had anyone do something so . . . selfless for her. This meant more than flowers or chocolates—even jewelry. Perhaps he did value her more than the hotel.

  Before she could say anything, Debs said to Phillip, “This is ridiculous. You’d never shutter this project, not when it’s so far along.”

  “You’re wrong. I won’t tolerate any disrespect of her ladyship and I’ll gladly go broke trying to prove it. So, what’s it going to be, gentlemen?” Phillip shouted this out to the crowd en masse.

  Feeling overwhelmed, she moved closer. He dropped his head to gaze deep into her eyes, and the fierce determination reflected there wound through her blood, warming her. “Phillip, you don’t have to do this.”

  “I do,” he said quietly. “I’ve let you down in every other respect. You’re worth a hundred ruined hotels to me.”

  Her chest swelled, emotion clogging in her throat. “That is the nicest thing you could ever say.”

  “Perhaps we should let the men take a vote!” Frank Tripp yelled, and the men cheered, ready for some kind of a resolution.

  “Fine!” Debs threw up his hands in disgust. “Vote, then.”

  Tripp cupped his hands around his mouth. “All those not in favor of giving Lady Eva ful
l access to the site, raise your hand.”

  About thirty men out of the hundreds present raised a hand—including Mr. Milliken.

  Phillip frowned at these men. “Everyone with your hand raised, you’re fired. Everyone else, we appreciate your support of our architect. Welcome back.”

  Turning, he unlocked the gate and dragged it to one side. A cheer went up before the laborers began streaming into the site.

  By the time Eva reached Phillip, Milliken was already there, the contractor’s face nearly apoplectic with rage. “. . . cannot fire me! These are my men. They won’t stay and work if you fire me.”

  Phillip looked calm and collected, every inch the powerful New York scion. “I think I’ve just proven they will, Milliken. And I have indeed fired you. If any of your men want to leave, they have my blessing to go. I’ll hire another general contractor and more laborers, as many as I need. But you are no longer allowed on my construction site.”

  Eva tried not to gloat as Milliken stormed off. Astounded at the morning’s events, she covered her mouth to stem the giddiness from bubbling forth. He’d really done all this . . . for her.

  She couldn’t reach his side fast enough.

  He watched her carefully, tracking her approach. His brows lowered in confusion when she didn’t immediately speak. “Eva?”

  When she was close enough, she rose up on her toes and whispered in his ear, “Your presence is requested at an urgent meeting. Number Twenty-Two Twenty-Fourth Street.” Then she drifted away, desperate to find a hack.

  Now out of breath, Phillip arrived at the top floor of the town house. Was she here? He hadn’t allowed himself to hope on the ride downtown, too worried he’d misunderstood her intentions.

  The door to the top set of apartments stood ajar. He pushed through and entered the former bordello. “Eva?”