by Nikki Poppen
“May I say that you look lovely this evening?” Gannon asked as she moved them across the opulent drawing room to a cluster of guests.
“You may. Remember, you must pretend to court me. Showing a little liking would not be amiss. What was in the present you gave Mrs. Astor?” she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“Jealous, are you?”
“No. Merely curious.”
Gannon leaned close to her ear. “It’s a Limoges trifle box. Something practical to keep a diamond brooch in.”
“Very good. You’ve done your homework,” Audrey complimented. Anyone who knew Caroline Astor knew she adored her diamonds; they were her signature jewel, just as black was her signature evening gown.
Audrey made the introductions and then stepped back from the conversation to let Gannon take over. By the time dinner was announced, Gannon had quickly won the confidence of the little group. Over the extensive dinner, Audrey watched silently as Gannon proved himself worthy of inclusion among the elite assembled.
“How do you find America?” Caroline Astor queried from her place at the head of the table, her husband absent as usual, spending his week in New York stoking the family fortunes.
“I find it a most excellent place,” Gannon said to the table at large, since Mrs. Astor’s question had silenced the rest of the conversations. “I am intrigued by all the business and industry, particularly the railroads. I think there is much to learn here.”
“Hear, hear!” Wilson St. Clair applauded from his end of the table. “A man who appreciates vision is always welcome”
There was a chorus of “hear, hear” to follow Wilson’s pronouncement. Audrey smiled at Gannon from across the table. The bait had been set. She would bet that after dinner, over port and cigars, Gannon would be introduced to his first business opportunities. The plan was in motion.
Gannon gave the St. Clair butler his card at precisely five minutes before five o’clock the next day. He’d been invited, ostensibly, to take tea with the St. Clairs. It would be the first time he’d have an opportunity to talk over the evening with Audrey.
If it had been up to him, he would have rushed over first thing in the morning, but he knew it simply wasn’t comme it faut. One would no more call before one o’clock in Newport than he would in London. Unfortunately, Stella had him off at a yachting luncheon that afternoon, and he was unable to call earlier. Sensing his disappointment but attributing it to the fledgling stages of romance, Stella had smiled charmingly and said, “Keep her dangling, Camberly. Don’t appear too eager.”
“I have business with her father,” he’d responded, but Stella was unconvinced. For that matter, he was too. It was true that he had business with Audrey’s father, thanks to an intriguing discussion over port and cigars at Caroline Astor’s. But that wasn’t the reason for his impatience. He found he was filled with an inexplicable desire to celebrate with Audrey, to share with her all that had taken place after she and the other women had left the table.
To his credit, Gannon did try to explain his desire to see her again rationally to himself. Impending romance had nothing to do with it. They were co-conspirators after all. Of course he’d want to share with her how things were going. The urge to see her had nothing to do with simply wanting to share her company, to hear her opinions, or to be the recipient of that saucy smile she tossed his way whenever she teased him.
“This way, sir. The St. Clairs will receive you in the conservatory,” the butler intoned, returning from wherever he’d gone with Gannon’s card.
Gannon followed the fellow through the wide halls of Briar Cliff, the well appointed “cottage” the St. Clairs called home for eight weeks each summer, never guessing what a flurry of excitement his visit had conjured up in the room down the hall.
“Audrey, sit here at the window. The sun will catch your hair just so,” Violet instructed in a hurried whisper. “Here, look like you’ve been reading.” She shoved a slim volume of Longfellow’s poetry into Audrey’s hands. “I wish you had time to change. Your afternoon gown in celery green would be perfect in this setting.”
“We’re receiving a caller, not sitting for a portrait.” Audrey grimaced and gave a sighing huff, plopping down on the window seat as instructed. She rather thought Gannon would laugh if he could see her mother’s contrivances. “I doubt English girls go through so much nonsense” Audrey twitched at her skirt.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course they do. Every girl has to make a good match. Even so, American girls have to try harder. We don’t have titles to recommend us, only ourselves and our deportment. Sit up straight. Act like a countess. We want Camberly to see your potential.” Violet sank onto the nearby settee in an artful pose, seeming to concentrate on the needlework in her lap.
The scene of domestic tranquility, Newport style, made Audrey want to shudder. She had to get into the Viennese conservatory. How was she to escape all this otherwise? She did not want to become her mother, but what else was there for her here? How did the other girls stand it? Audrey knew she wasn’t alone in her situation. Down the avenue at the Breakers, Alva Vanderbilt was overtly hanging out for the Duke of Marlborough in hopes of snatching him up for her daughter, Consuelo. The duke hadn’t come over yet, but Alva was anticipating him. She’d been tracking the eligible duke’s social and financial history for years, ready to run him to ground when the time came. Audrey was tired of the whole game.
The conservatory door opened, and the butler announced Gannon. The Earl of Camberly. She kept forgetting. It was telling that she couldn’t bring herself to think of him as the earl, a titled English lord. It shouldn’t have been that hard to do. He certainly looked every inch the artistocrat.
Today he was attired in a lightweight wool morning suit of charcoal gray that made his hair appear even darker than usual, and the subtle striping of his trousers made his legs look longer. Not that she should have been noticing such a masculine feature. Audrey promptly averted her gaze back to the text of her book.
Through her lashes, she saw her mother rise and greet the earl with amazing calm, considering what had transpired in this very room only moments earlier.
“Mrs. St. Clair, I am delighted to be received.”
“Come and sit. We’ll have tea shortly” Violet St. Clair gestured to a chair near the sofa where she’d been sitting. “Audrey, come and join us.”
“Miss St. Clair.”
Audrey felt his eyes on her as she set aside her book and crossed the room to join them. “How kind of you to call on us,” Audrey said, coaching herself to remember the role their plan had assigned him as a potential suitor.
“I hope I haven’t interrupted your reading?” Gannon nodded in the direction of the volume she’d left behind.
“Of course not” Audrey smoothed her skirts and sat down, feeling conspicuous and wondering if her mother noticed the stilted nature of the conversation. It was much more awkward than she’d anticipated, playing out two roles. She had to remember that her mother thought that she and the earl had only met twice now and both times in the company of large groups. With the exception of the stroll at the polo grounds, they had never been alone beyond their brief breather at the Casino ball to her mother’s knowledge.
“Did you enjoy the supper party last night?” Audrey said quickly to cover up the silence.
Gannon relaxed into his chair, crossing a leg. “I did. I’ve enjoyed meeting so many people since my arrival. I am particularly interested in the American way of business. Last night, several of the gentlemen present were kind enough to offer me some useful insights.”
Audrey nodded, understanding exactly what Gannon was telling her beneath the overt message. She was pleased. Now she just needed to get him apart from her mother, where they could talk over his opportunities.
“Ah, business?” her mother said with distaste. “I can hardly imagine what thrall business can hold for a gentleman such as yourself.”
“The world is changing, Mrs. St. Clai
r. I consider myself to be a man of vision. Those who can’t change with the times are often left behind. I don’t want to count myself among their number. I try to stay abreast of all the new thinking.” Gannon leaned forward. “In fact, I must confess that was part of my reason for calling today. I had hoped to discuss some business with your husband”
Audrey watched her mother’s eyes narrow ever so slightly, calculating her next move. She wasn’t pleased with Gannon’s answer. “Then it’s a good thing, Camberly, that seeing Mr. St. Clair was only part of your reason for coming” Violet managed a light laugh that hid her disappointment. “You’ve missed him. He’s at the Reading Room this afternoon. What was the other reason for coming?”
Audrey’s gaze slid in Gannon’s direction. Was he up to matching her mother’s wit? She needn’t have worried. Gannon reached for the square, wrapped package he’d set down. “I brought this for Miss St. Clair, with your permission, ma’am. It’s a book that features Camberly Hall. A few years ago, an ambitious squire in the area made a study of the great houses in our region and put it all into this volume. The drawings of the homes are quite well done and accurate”
Violet nodded her approval, and Audrey smiled, slipping the string off the package. Gannon had scored a direct hit. Her mother’s disappointment had been firmly overcome. Audrey leafed through the exquisitely-done book. “What page is Camberly Hall on, milord?”
Gannon took the opportunity to move beside her and look over her shoulder, a gesture her mother noted immediately. “Page thirty-eight,” he offered. “That’s drawn from the garden side. Camberly’s gardens in the spring are not to be missed, although my favorite time of year is the fall, when the leaves in the Camberly woods are in full color.”
There was a wistful note in Gannon’s voice that caused Audrey to look up at him. “New England falls are beautiful in that way too,” Audrey supplied. But with luck and if her plan worked, neither she nor Gannon would be there to see it.
The tea tray arrived, and talk turned to gardens and landscaping. Her mother guided the conversation, no doubt eager to glean more information about his estate. Audrey didn’t mind. While her mother focused on the material aspects of Gannon’s details, Audrey found herself focusing on the passion he conveyed for the topic. It gave her an idea for getting Gannon alone.
When tea was finished, Audrey set down her cup. “I don’t pretend our gardens here can match Camberly’s, but I’d be glad to show you our grounds. Perhaps it might ease the pain of being away from home a bit.”
“It’s a splendid idea.” Her mother seconded the thought. “Do go, Camberly, and see the gardens. Make sure Audrey shows you the roses. They’re particularly lovely this year.”
“All right, talk quickly. Tell me everything,” Audrey said the moment they stepped onto the bricked path that wound through the gardens.
“So much for a leisurely stroll,” Gannon commented. “I thought I was to see the roses and relieve my homesickness.”
“We can do both” Audrey tilted her head sideways to look at him with mock severity. “Besides, you knew this was just a ruse to get some time alone to discuss our progress. I can’t possibly tell my mother I want to discuss business with you.”
“And here I was hoping you might like me, just a little.” Gannon feigned hurt feelings,
“Stop it. You know I like you. I don’t go to all this effort for just anyone.”
“No, I don’t imagine you do go to the effort just for people who can help you get something you want” Gannon’s tone turned serious. “How’s our plan progressing on your end?”
They stopped walking, having reached a stone wall that marked the end of the St. Clair property, separating it from a heavily used walking path that wound between the great houses of Newport and the Atlantic.
“You’re doing fabulously. Showing off your home in that book today was a stroke of genius, equal to Caroline Astor’s brooch box. You’re quite masterful when it comes to courtship rituals.”
“I can be,” Gannon said in a cryptic tone that caused Audrey to look at him strangely. His gaze was intent on her, and she looked away quickly. He was too handsome for his own good, and they’d both do better to remember that this was a game, only a game.
“Well, don’t be too masterful. It’s been a short week since our formal acquaintance, and Mother is already convinced you’ll propose. We have to keep her dangling for another six weeks without committing ourselves to anything significant,” Audrey cautioned.
Gannon smiled. “We’ll manage. Your father and friends have offered me a chance to invest with them in a short line railroad that seems promising.”
“The Hudson River Line?” Audrey asked sharply, surprised that her father would have brought that particular issue up with someone he’d just met. He’d discussed it a few times over dinner.
“Yes, I believe that was it. Do you know it?”
“Do you know what they mean to do with the railroad?” Audrey queried, wondering how much her father had disclosed to Gannon. She didn’t want to be between Gannon and her father. When it came to business, Wilson St. Clair was ruthless. But Audrey didn’t want to see Gannon used as a pawn. She had not anticipated this type of development when she proposed her plan.
Gannon furrowed his brow. “This is all somewhat new to me, but I believe we’re to acquire the railroad and then sell it to a larger line for enormous profit so that the larger line can expand. Yes, that’s right,” he said, thinking through it all out loud. “We’re buying low and selling high.”
Audrey smiled. “You’re doing admirably. That’s precisely what he and his cronies intend to do. Did you never invest in England?” Investments and stocks had been such an ongoing fixture in her life that it seemed odd that Gannon hadn’t thought to seek out investment as an avenue to secure his finances earlier.
“I’ve invested before” Gannon leaned his elbows on the stone fence and looked out over the Atlantic, calm and blue under the summer sky. “But not like this. I’ve invested in cargoes and boats, of course. I’ve invested in canal projects. But the intent was never to invest to sell; it was more of investing to acquire. I’d receive a profit from the cargo when it returned to port and was sold. What your father proposes with the railroad is a bit different. There’s no end product”
“At the end there’s money. Quite a lot of it,” Audrey corrected. “He must like you to offer you a place with them, and he must trust you as well. The success of the venture depends exclusively on two things: money and secrecy” Audrey gripped the stone fence, her anxiety growing. She knew enough about the railroad’s situation to know that the Hudson River Line was nearly bankrupt and that shares in the railroad would shortly hit an all-time low. When that low came, her father’s group would swoop in and buy up the majority of the stock so that he and his group could control the railroad. If others heard of the plan, they would definitely move to block it. Timing was everything.
Audrey gave Gannon a hard look. “You will keep his secret, won’t you?” Now that the plan had become real, the risk was far larger than she’d realized. She was risking more than money.
Gannon reached for her hand where it lay on the rough stone and squeezed it. “I will keep his trust and yours. A gentleman’s word is not to be doubted”
The sincerity of his gesture moved her unexpectedly. Worse, it threatened to undo her carefully steeled feelings. She’d been prepared to like Gannon Maddox since that first day on the beach but nothing more. Now, the more she saw of the diverse faces he showed the world, the more difficult it was becoming to keep her emotions detached.
“You’re a surprising man, Gannon Maddox. When you’re with my parents and out in society, you’re sleek, urbane, confident, commanding. There’s a certain aura of unassailability about you that says, `Watch me, but don’t come too close.”’ Audrey turned sideways to face him straight on. “Yet when we’re alone like we were on the beach, like we are now, you’re completely .. ” She struggled for the word, lifting
a hand to push back her hair from her face where the breeze had loosed it. “Accessible,” she said firmly. “When we’re together, you’re very accessible.” Audrey gave a short laugh at her conclusion, feeling slightly self-conscious after that. She’d probably said far too much. She regrouped. “You’re a very complex man, Gannon. Are all Englishmen this complicated?”
Gannon shook his head with a laugh, turning his body sideways to face her directly as well. “I suspect only earls are, and only then because we have to be. I don’t think anyone has ever spoken to me about myself so thoroughly before. It’s quite a novel experience to hear oneself so entirely dissected. Are all heiresses this plainspoken?”
Audrey felt her breath catch against her will. She didn’t want to feel this attraction to him that went beyond the liking she was prepared to give him. But in this moment, all she could think was, I want this forever, this laughing, talking, bantering with this handsome man who, for some reason, is accessibleyes, accessible-to me and me alone. The unbidden thought struck like lightning and was gone as quickly, nothing more than a flash. Yet, like the lightning of the late-summer storms that often ravaged the coastline, it was potentially dangerous.
“I suspect I am alone in that commodity,” Audrey joked, trying to regain her sanity when it came to Gannon Maddox. But his next comment unnerved her as much as his earlier one had.
“And in much else, unless I am sadly mistaken, Audrey St. Clair. You are what we’d call an `original’ in London,” Gannon said softly, meeting her eyes and raising a hand to push back a strand of hair that had fallen over her face again.
The moment, the gesture, were distinctively intimate. She could not brush off the poignant hush that had fallen between them, broken only by the far-off roar of the ocean below them. She swallowed, trying not to tremble when his hand moved to softly cup her jaw. Everything seemed to happen in slowed motion. Gannon cocked his head slightly to the left, giving her a long look. He was going to kiss her, Audrey realized. Surely he knew he couldn’t? It would ruin everything. Most of all, it would ruin her perspective. Audrey said the first thing that came to mind. “Penny for your thoughts?”
