by Merry Farmer
She snapped her eyes up to meet his. “How can you tell that?”
The instant the question was out, she glanced away. She’d betrayed her most private thoughts to this man, a complete stranger.
And yet, not a complete stranger.
“When I first clapped eyes on you, you were gazing out that window, looking for something, longing for something,” Howard went on, his voice a lion’s purr now. “I know that look—that look of being trapped in a world full of rules and restrictions that don’t suit you. I know it, my love, because I feel it too.”
She dragged her eyes back to his. “How do you know? How can you possibly know?” He was not a woman. He didn’t know what it was like to be treated as property, to be bartered and traded as part of a business deal, as though she were no more valuable than cattle.
Howard’s only answer was a smile so gentle and genuine that it sent ripples of longing through her. Those ripples rested in an ache that filled her core, making every step of the dance an exercise in sensuality. The fabric of her bodice suddenly chaffed against breasts that had grown sensitive under the heat of almost touching Howard. His hand on her waist was as intimate as a lover’s touch.
Breath didn’t seem to want to flow through Elizabeth’s lungs, but she still managed to ask, “Who are you, Mr. Howard Haskell? Where have you come from?”
“From your dreams, my dear,” he whispered.
He swung her through another turn in the dance, and when their eyes met again, he had changed from sultry lover to confident champion. Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth noticed her mother speaking animatedly to her father.
“I am Howard Haskell.” Howard drew her attention back to him, commanded it. “I was born in Pittsburgh, the son of hardworking tradesmen. My father sent me to college, but also involved me in business from the time I could sign my name. I’ve been learning, watching, and investing since the day I earned my first penny, and those pennies have multiplied.”
It wasn’t until Elizabeth’s head swam as he led her into another turn in the dance that she realized she’d been holding her breath. She had never met a man who was more sure of himself or more ready to share that surety.
“And you made your fortune before you were out of short pants?” she teased him.
“Yes.”
She blinked. He was grinning at her, his eyes alight with mischief, but it didn’t feel like a lie. He wasn’t lying. Somehow she knew he wasn’t.
“And what do you plan to do with this fortune of yours?” It was a battle to maintain her composure and her coolness, to call his bluff and behave as any society maiden would when more than anything, she wanted to throw herself into his arms.
“I plan to grow it even more,” he answered. His smile had become so cocky that she wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or smack him. Or kiss him. “I invest in schemes of the future. This country is on the verge of growth that is unprecedented in the history of nations. Land has been discovered that is ours for the taking.”
Elizabeth almost opened her mouth to argue that the Indian tribes that lived on the frontier might have something to say about that, but the fierce determination in Howard’s eyes kept her silent.
“Groups of settlers have already begun making the trek to the Oregon and California territories overland,” he went on. “Trails are being blazed even as we speak. The future of this country, the future of every enterprising man and woman, lies in the West.”
“And you intend to go there?” It was getting harder and harder for her to pretend disinterest.
“Absolutely, my dear.” His hand tightened on her waist, sending jolts of excitement through her. “I not only intend to go there, I intend to own there.”
“Own there?” She blinked rapidly at his strange turn of phrase.
Howard grinned. “Think of it. In the next few years, thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of settlers will be flooding West. They’ll need provisions for their journey. They’ll need supplies once they get there. They’ll need waystations to rest at and protection for the trip. All of those are markets that can be capitalized on. The only thing that’s needed for a man to make his fortune ten times over is the gumption to go out there, plant his stake in the ground, and hold on with steely determination.”
“And that man is you?” The music could have stopped, the dancers could have all fallen over, and Elizabeth wouldn’t have noticed a thing. She had eyes only for Howard and ears only to hear his plan.
“I intend to go West to territories not yet claimed. I will be the one to claim them,” he declared boldly. “I plan to learn the land, to survey it and determine the best way to use it. And then I plan to create an empire as I see fit.”
“Well!” She couldn't hide how impressed she was now. She was certain that her face glowed with admiration for this man who held her in his arms so effortlessly.
“What’s more,” he went on. “I intend to take you with me.”
A blossom of pleasure not unlike the physical sensation of completion rolled over her. Her? This amazing, intrepid, astounding man wanted her? What had she ever done to deserve that sort of attention?
She couldn’t let him see how deeply he affected her. If he did, chances are—like her father—he’d exploit that, use her for his own aims. She cleared her throat, counted the measures of the waltz to ground herself, and cooled her expression.
“What makes you think that I want to come with you?” she asked, chin tilted up.
Howard Haskell wasn’t fooled for a moment.
“Because I know you, my love.” He leaned closer—far closer than was proper. “Because I can see in your eyes that you crave a different life. You crave adventure as much as I do. You can feel it in every fiber of your body.”
His overt mention of her body sent shivers through it that swirled into pulsating desire.
“You want this, my love. You want me.”
The music stopped. The dancers applauded politely. Howard continued to hold Elizabeth in his arms, their eyes locked together. Elizabeth was certain her heart could be seen pounding against the scooping neckline of her gown.
“Yes,” she whispered, still held in his arms. People were beginning to stare at them. “Yes, I want it, I want you. Yes, take me away with you to the West.” The words rushed out in time to her racing heart. “I’ll run with you if I have to, just take me away from here.”
A leonine grin spread across Howard’s handsome face. He loosened his grip on her, turned her out of waltz position, and hooked her arm through his. For a brief moment he searched the crowd surrounding the dance floor. He was clever enough to guess that the cluster of people who looked the angriest were her family. When her father scowled, he nodded, then escorted Elizabeth in that direction.
“You won’t have to run,” Howard said, his confidence as high as ever. “Your parents will give your hand to me gladly.”
“They—” Elizabeth sucked in a breath, halting them both for a moment. “No, no they won’t.” She glance from her father and mother to Jonas, standing stiff and displeased beside them. Panicked, she turned to Howard. “I’m engaged.”
Howard’s brow flew up. “Is that so?” he asked, as though she had said nothing more than that she was overheated.
“Yes. Oh dear, yes. I am engaged to marry Mr. Jonas Armstrong.”
Howard shrugged and continued on with her. “A minor inconvenience that will quickly be removed.”
Elizabeth was so startled by his reaction that she laughed. Unfortunately, her laughter came just as she and Howard came to a stop in front of the glowering wall of her mother, father, and Jonas.
“Elizabeth,” her mother snapped, lips tight. “What are you doing?”
“Forgive me, Mrs. Ayers.” Howard bowed, letting go of Elizabeth’s arm. “I saw your charming daughter from across the room and I simply could not resist asking her for a waltz.”
“Who are you, sir?” Mr. Ayers snapped.
With a triumphant smile,
Howard said, “Howard Haskell, at your service.”
“I do not know you.” Mr. Ayers clenched his jaw and squared his shoulders, like a pure-bred dog ready for a fight.
Howard’s only reply was to smile wider and say, “You will, sir. Soon you will know me intimately.”
Without waiting for acknowledgement or reply, he took Elizabeth’s hand, lifted it to his lips, and kissed it with lingering devotion. He glanced into Elizabeth’s eyes as he did, then winked. That was all. As he let her hand go, he turned and marched off, cool as you please.
Elizabeth’s knees went weak. She pressed a hand to her chest and sighed, “Isn’t he wonderful?” before she could think better of it.
“Elizabeth!” Horror was sharp on her mother’s face. She grabbed Elizabeth’s wrist and jerked her to the side.
Reality slammed down on Elizabeth. Her father shook his head in disappointment. Jonas studied her with a sneer. True to Jonas’s form, however, after an initial reaction, his face flattened to boredom, and he went back to watching the ball, no more thought for her than if she was one of the servants with trays of punch.
Her mother wasn’t done. “What were you thinking?” she hissed. “Dancing with a stranger? A man to whom you have not been introduced? And you, an engaged woman.”
“He did introduce himself. To me.”
Her mother looked as though she wanted smack her. Lucky for Elizabeth, her mother only contemplated violence. She had never carried out a single threat in her entire life.
“In the future,” she said instead with icy disdain, “you will only dance with men who your father or I have approved of. You will give all of your attention to your fiancé. You will not speak with strangers, and you most certainly will not allow them to kiss your hand and stare down your décolletage.”
Elizabeth flushed at the very thought of Howard eyeing her inappropriately. In all the best ways. How delicious to be desired! She shifted her weight to lean against a convenient settee, her feet poking out from the hem of her long, full skirt.
“You will spend the remainder of the evening with myself, your father, or—good heavens, Elizabeth!” Her mother’s sudden shift in tone was so abrupt that a pair of older women chatting on the settee looked up and frowned. “Where are your shoes?”
Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open, and she glanced to her feet. How had she not noticed that she had gone out to the dance floor in her stockings. Laughter bubbled through her as she searched across the ballroom for her friends. Sure enough, in the corner of the room where she’d left them, Henrietta held Elizabeth’s dancing shoes. She lifted them, a giddy grin on her face.
“Oh dear.” It was all the explanation Elizabeth could manage through her laughter. It was all the reaction her mother would allow her.
Waving for Henrietta to join them at once, her mother whispered, “You will retrieve your shoes, and you will not take them off your feet again. As soon as they are back on your feet, you will dance with Jonas. Your father went to great lengths to secure that engagement for you.”
Great lengths on his own behalf, Elizabeth thought.
“When that dance is over,” her mother went on, “you and I will go home, where I will have to think long and hard about letting you out any time before your wedding.”
A tug on Elizabeth’s arm emphasized the point.
Elizabeth’s spirits sank. She ventured a glance across to Jonas. Jonas met it without expression, then looked away. But of course he would look away. No one paid any attention to pawns in any game.
She turned to seek out Henrietta and her shoes. Instead, she caught sight of the one man who had paid attention to her, Howard. He stood at the far end of the room with a woman who bore a distinct resemblance to him—possibly a sister—and another man. The moment their gazes connected, the flash of fire that had filled her blood returned. Elizabeth smiled a languorous, mischievous smile, just for him. She believed Howard Haskell when he said that he would take her away. She believed him when he said he would do it without her having to run. She just wasn’t sure how he would pull it off.
Chapter 3
“That was a splendid evening,” Howard commented to Cyrus the next morning as they strolled through Cincinnati’s financial district.
Cyrus laughed and shook his head. “You certainly did cause a ruckus.”
“Ruckus? What are you talking about?” Howard flashed his friend a smile as the two of them stepped inside of the offices of Peabody, French, and Pratt. He was long overdue for a visit with his man of business to discuss the status of his investments.
Cyrus snorted, then nodded to the spindly clerk who came to take his and Howard’s hats. “You accosted that poor Ayers woman and more or less tweaked her father’s nose.”
Howard’s brow rose to his hairline as he removed his hat. “That woman is my future wife,” he declared, then turned to the clerk to wave him off. “We can’t stay long, Biminey. I’m just here to get a summary from Peabody, then I’ve other business to attend to.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Haskell.” The young clerk bobbed and bowed, smiling all the time, admiration in his eyes.
Howard flushed with satisfaction at the special treatment, then turned back to Cyrus. “Elizabeth Ayers is an angel. An angel that I am determined to make my wife.”
“And how does she feel about that?” Cyrus drawled.
Howard burst into a grin. “She feels the same way.”
“She does?” Surprise filled Cyrus’s face.
“She told me so herself as we were finishing our heavenly dance.”
His friend stuttered and blew out a breath before deciding on a smile. “Well done then, old friend.” He paused, shifted his weight, and narrowed his eyes. “So how do you intend to go about convincing her parents of the same? They didn’t look particularly pleased with you last night.”
Howard nodded, accepting the truth. “We shall simply have to pay a visit to Mr. Carl Ayers once we’re done with Peabody to confront him with facts.”
“The facts of your business?” Cyrus’s grin turned cunning.
“The facts of my true and abiding love for his daughter.” Howard corrected him.
“Who you only just met last night.”
Howard breathed out a sigh, even as Biminey reappeared to show them in to Peabody’s office. “Time is irrelevant when love has found you at last. I don’t need days or weeks or a lifetime to know that Elizabeth is the woman for me. The heart knows what it wants when it sees it.”
Cyrus chuckled. “I’ll grant you, she is pretty.”
“Pretty? She’s so much more than that.”
Howard didn’t have time to advance his argument. He and Cyrus were shown into a small but richly appointed office. A short, older man with round spectacles stood behind a mahogany desk that took up half the room. It was filled with papers and ledgers, but there was a neatness and order to everything.
“Ah, Haskell, Piedmont. Good to see you.”
Osgood Peabody came out from behind the desk to shake both men’s hands. He was at least a head shorter than Howard—who was taller than most—but he had a presence that brooked no nonsense and demanded respect. Like a headmaster at a prestigious school.
“Peabody.” Howard greeted him warmly. “Tell me the good news, man. How are my investments faring?”
Peabody blinked rapidly and adjusted his glasses. “Very well, in fact, sir. I don’t know how you do it, but you have an uncanny sense for profit.”
“He has an uncanny sense for women too, if we are to believe his latest obsession,” Cyrus added.
Peabody smiled his headmaster smile, as if Howard were his favorite pupil. “What’s this?”
“I am in love, sir.” Howard nodded with exaggerated gravity. “And I need to be certain that my financial empire is in place so that I may provide my future wife with every comfort her heart desires.”
Cyrus rolled his eyes.
Peabody smiled. “And who is this fortunate woman?”
“Elizabet
h Ayers.”
Peabody gaped, then shook his head, chuckling. “Good luck with that. I hear that her marriage to Mr. Jonas Armstrong will secure the fortunes of both families. All of Cincinnati is talking about what a coup the merger will be.”
Something cold and steely closed around Howard’s gut. So that was what Elizabeth’s wistful look at the dance was about. She was being sold off like any other commodity. His determination to whisk her away and into his arms solidified.
“It would be a brilliant coup,” he said with a smile, “if it were to ever happen. Unfortunately for Mr. Armstrong, I have other plans, and the lady is more than amenable to them.”
Peabody humored him with a pat on the arm. “If you say so, Haskell. Now, have a seat and I’ll explain how your investment in the Whitewater Canal tripled your net worth.”
Howard did his best to sit still and pay attention to the figures that Peabody threw at him. All he truly needed to know was that the majority of his investments were wildly successful, and that he had more than enough money to pack up and start heading west. The world and America in particular was constantly on the move these days, and he needed to be too.
“So even if you were to retire right now and spend the rest of your life sunning in the orient,” Peabody finished, “you would spend the rest of your life as a wealthy man.”
“Fortunately for me, I have no intention of retiring and sunning anywhere.” Howard clapped his hands on the arms of his chair and pushed himself to stand. “I have other empires to build and worlds to conquer.”
“We’re heading west,” Cyrus added, standing as well.
“Are you?” Peabody brightened. “An exciting place, the West. Aren’t you anxious about Indians?”
“They should be anxious about me.” Howard grinned. He was being arrogant, but sometimes the only way to push forward was to do it as though you have every right and then some.
Peabody chuckled. “Well, I do hope you’ll maintain your contacts with Peabody, French, and Pratt, no matter how far your travels take you.”
