“Sure thing, Mrs. Jeffries.” The slim blond man frowned. “But could I give them to my sister? She loves them.”
“Fine, but remove them from the building. You have permission to store them in Garrett’s workshop outside.”
Richard would stay away from there. “Yes, ma’am.”
After Richard sneezed three times in succession, Pa directed him toward the exit. “Go get some fresh air, son.”
“Yes, sir.”
“First, let me show him where you’ll be seated for tonight.” Mrs. Jeffries gestured to the longest table. “We’ll be putting the Library Trustees there, in the back. They plan to discuss business as well as enjoy the meal.”
Here was an opportunity. Richard cleared his throat. “Ma’am, do you think we could be seated near them?”
“I’d planned to seat you in a more open area closer to the kitchen at the front.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why we couldn’t place you near the back. Would that be all right with you, Mr. Christy?”
Pa cast him a quizzical look and Richard waggled his eyebrows back. They’d had this form of silent communication the past several years when either had gotten an idea but didn’t want to discuss their notions in front of anyone. “Fine by me. Now you go on, boy—get outta here before yer eyes swell up.”
“Yes, sir.”
As Richard left the building, he passed several more waiters who were carrying in baskets of rolls, breads, and muffins and fancy bowls filled with butter pressed into shapes. He let out a low whistle. This was going to be quite a night. The whole shebang was top notch.
An idea flashed through his mind. How long would it take to have his beard shaved off, like his brother had done? Would that draw Miss Beauchamps attention any further? Maybe if he didn’t look so much like a green shanty boy, then she’d actually look into his eyes instead of away from him all the time—as she had done since the fire. Like she had at the restaurant. He knew she’d seen him, but she didn’t even acknowledge him. She could have at least done that little half-wave that ladies do when they notice a friend but are too busy to greet them. Maybe he wouldn’t make her so nervous if he weren’t so hairy. Her hands always seemed to tremble within minutes of them talking. He tugged at his beard.
He headed off to the barber, who soon accomplished a miracle, removing his beard more quickly than Richard thought possible. Of course everyone would still know who he was since he was the tallest man in town, but if he was sitting down, maybe not. That meant he had to get to the banquet before the librarian and the trustees showed up.
He rubbed his hand along his smooth jaw. Should have done this long ago.
Won’t Juliana be surprised?
Sister Mary Lou had removed as much of the old-fashioned bustle as she could from Juliana’s gown. She, Gracie, and Juliana huddled in the nun’s room. “I’ve simplified the skirt.”
She held the dress aloft, but it still appeared dreadfully out of date. “Thank you, Sister Mary Lou.”
The board had to know that her salary, which was much less than a man was generally offered for the same position, wouldn’t attire her in all the latest fashion. Not that it mattered, since she was to be there at the opening of the inn’s banquet hall to represent the library and not be the belle of some ball. She’d hoped to finally break free of the gossip over Alek’s abandonment of her. Hoped to be dressed in her gorgeous gown, on the arm of the handsomest lumberjack. But if Richard Christy knew how old she was, would he even take her to The Lumberjacks’ Ball? She frowned. And wouldn’t tongues wag even more if he ended up being a half dozen years or more younger than she was?
The nun ran a hand along her jawline, watching Gracie fasten the last button on Juliana’s remade gown.
The pretty girl rotated slowly, giving them the full effect. “That length of tulle you added underneath has made my dress plenty long enough.”
“With your hair up like that, Gracie, you do look all grown up!” Sister Mary Lou wiped a tear from her eyes, which were rimmed underneath with dark rings. Their friend needed rest. And a break from all of her responsibilities. And here she’d done more work, hastily fixing both Gracie’s and Juliana’s dresses.
“I should have worn my gown made for the ball.” Juliana chewed her lower lip.
“Oh no, dear. That dress is too special for this occasion. Save that for the Lumberjacks’ Ball.” Sister Mary Lou patted her on the arm. “Now get changed. We’ve got work to do.”
Soon, fully gowned, bejeweled, and mincing in their best shoes, Juliana and Gracie linked arms and headed down the street toward the inn, garnering appreciative glances as they went. With her blonde hair upswept, Gracie looked like a princess. Juliana’s dark tresses were swirled around her head in a fashionable style even if her dress was out of mode. And her pearls, once worn by Papa’s mother, and passed to her as the eldest daughter, made Juliana feel special—cherished as though Papa was right there with her. She blinked away the moisture in her eyes as she and Gracie ascended the black-painted steps up into the inn.
On the wide porch, surrounding the front of the inn, a small group of library board members clustered. They were probably waiting for Mr. Hatchens to join them before entering. And if they were all here, why was she—the head librarian—needed for this event? She cringed, wondering if one of them would motion her over and request that she sit with them. But they all ignored Juliana and Gracie. Relief coursed through her.
Her assistant suddenly clutched Juliana’s arm harder. “This is the most exciting thing I’ve done in my life.”
Juliana’s most thrilling day was when she’d become engaged to Aleksanteri. But that was many years ago. And then she’d had to change her dream. She’d put aside her plans to live in the Puumala’s lumber camp, where she’d be cooking and raising a half dozen children, and had headed off to school. She chased the memory away as she disengaged Gracie’s arm from hers and squeezed her hand gently. “I pray you make wonderful memories tonight, I truly do.”
Although the dinner an inconvenience to Juliana, she still wanted to make an effort to be enthusiastic as she could for Gracie’s sake. At least they’d not been dragged over and made to sit with the trustees. That was something to appreciate.
The doors opened and two white-gloved servants gestured toward the right. “Here for the banquet, ladies?”
“Yes, indeed we are!” Gracie’s breathy voice made Juliana smile.
The young fellow on the right looked familiar. His wide eyes remained fixed on the beautiful girl standing before him.
“Frankie Quinlain?” It couldn’t be.
“One and the same.” He answered, but his eyes remained glued on Gracie. Finally, the gangly youth turned to her. “Oh, hello there.”
Juliana arched an eyebrow at him. “You’re all grown up, Frankie.” In a flash, she felt so much older. Here was one of her best friend’s brothers, a little devil when he was young, now standing here guarding the door.
He blinked rapidly. “I’ll tick off your name, Juliana, that is Miss Beauchamps. You’re still unmarried, aren’t you?”
Heat flushed her cheeks. He knew full well how Aleksanteri had abandoned her weeks before their wedding. The whole parish knew.
“She won’t be unwed for long, though.” Gracie giggled. “A millionaire from Wisconsin is courting her.”
Juliana began to gasp in protest, but her assistant elbowed her.
Behind them, someone laughed softly. She dare not turn to look.
Frankie waved them forward. “You’re seated at Table Three.”
A familiar voice demanded, “Young man, put me at Table Three as well.”
A suit-jacketed arm flashed past her, a silver dollar extended and snatched up by Frankie. “Of course sir.”
James Yost. She might as well just die now and sink into the wool carpeting, through the flooring, and beneath the building into the ground. He had to have heard Gracie’s words.
“Oh, Mr. Yost!” The blonde pressed her hands to her p
retty mouth as she swiveled around to face him.
Juliana cringed. It would be rude to ignore the man, wouldn’t it? Ever so slowly, she turned and he immediately took her hand and raised it to his lips. Then he drew her arm through his and escorted her into the dining hall, Gracie trailing them.
She’d never been so mortified in all her life. All eyes were trained on them. Thank you, Jesus, that the board isn’t inside yet. But what would they think once they saw she and Gracie seated with the wealthy man?
Carefully keeping her full skirt in hand, she maneuvered between the tables.
Mr. Yost indicated that Gracie should slide in next to Juliana. “Ladies, you are both looking radiant this evening.” He assisted them each with their chairs.
“Thank you.” Her assistant beamed up at him. “This is so exhilarating.”
A warm smile made the beer baron’s handsome face even more attractive. Oh, how could Gracie have told Frankie that a millionaire from Wisconsin was pursuing her? Surely Mr. Yost guessed her assistant was referring to him.
“How kind of you, Mr. Yost.” Juliana had to watch her conversation with the man. If the board members watched her, they could get wrong notions.
She glanced around the room, enjoying the many floral arrangements. How odd that none had lilacs in them. Their perfume and spiky blossoms made them perfect in large bouquets this time of year.
At the far end of the room, seated in the center of the next to the last table, a dark-haired young man stared at her. Clean-shaven, she could see the deep cleft in his chin. Merely gazing at him took what breath she had away. Sister Mary Lou shouldn’t have laced this corset so tight. Although it did exaggerate her curves. And why was she thinking such thoughts? That man was likely many years her junior. She averted her gaze. Why was the attractive stranger sitting all alone?
After he had settled into his shield-back cherrywood seat across from them, Mr. Yost leaned in. “I do hope you don’t mind me presuming that I’d be welcome at your table.” His features tugged in concern.
Was the man actually sensitive that he might be unwelcome? Juliana sat up more straight and forced a broad smile. “Why, sir, how could we not be pleased?”
“Of course you are, Mr. Yost.” Gracie’s sweet laugh had a calming effect on Juliana. “In fact, I was just speaking of you, sir.”
Yes—saying Yost planned to marry her. The peaceful feeling screamed its way out of the room. Juliana discreetly slid her hand toward Gracie’s and pinched her.
“Ouch!” She rubbed her hand and frowned at Juliana.
James Yost hiked an eyebrow. They were at a table not far from the entrance, so now they had the advantage of observing others as they entered. “My dear ladies, you look as though something is troubling you.”
“No, I’m a little tired is all.” She’d been surprised at how exhausted she’d felt since the fire and returning to work. And now she had an especially long day with this event and had to work on the morrow.
Gracie raised her crystal goblet of water to her lips and took a sip before lowering it slowly. “I think we all have a lot on our minds, Mr. Yost.”
“Is that so?” Sitting this close, Juliana could see the silver threads in his hair. At least he was probably closer to her age than Richard Christy was. Not that it mattered, as neither man had made any profession of love. Oh, to have a charmer like Elizabeth Barrett Browning had in her husband.
“I don’t know, Mr. Yost, unless you have a job for me.” Was Gracie actually batting her long eyelashes at the man?
“A job?” His eyes widened, more like the look of a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar than a man actually surprised.
Juliana clenched her jaw. She’d failed to pursue a certain contract for her assistant once she turned eighteen. Even so, how could Gracie live on that pittance of a salary? The Beauchamp family did still have an empty cottage on their property. But she’d not discuss that in front of Mr. Yost. Why was Gracie being so bold? Because she’s desperate. And Juliana had failed her.
Chapter 9
The wait staff led a trio of elderly matrons to their table, interrupting Juliana’s thoughts. The women’s gowns were spectacular, as were the diamonds glittering around their necks. They were seated further down their table, their husbands assisting them with the heavy chairs. Juliana didn’t recognize any of them. Perhaps they were summer residents. But Mr. Yost raised his hand briefly to a silver-haired gentleman in a perfectly-tailored navy blue dinner jacket. The man nodded in return, his moustache twitching slightly. His wife glowered at Gracie and Juliana. What in the world?
“Excuse my distraction, ladies, that’s an old friend of mine. He owns a competing brewery in Milwaukee.” He gestured for the waiter to come to him. “Might you bring my wine now?”
The young man’s hands trembled, at his sides. “No spirits until after the meal has been served. Sorry, Mr. Yost.”
Their dinner mate waved him away, frowning, but the servant remained. “Shall I pour your tea, sir?”
“I don’t suppose I could persuade you to substitute bourbon for my tea, can I?” Mr. Yost grumbled.
“No, sir. Mrs. Jeffries was adamant.” The way the young man rubbed his fingers together, it appeared his hands itched for a bribe. If the rich man could slip him a coin, the servant couldn’t accept—not with the inn owner standing guard over the room, just beyond them.
Yost made a disgusted snorting sound.
This was the first pique Juliana had ever viewed in James Yost. Did he have a drinking problem? He didn’t act anything like her brother did, though.
Gracie surprised her, by reaching across the table and gently touching the man’s burly hand. “Why should you need alcohol, when you’ve got the company of the prettiest and smartest woman in town?” She released his hand and pointed to Juliana.
“Gracie,” she croaked. But then she decided to turn the tables on the person who made her want to slide under and hide beneath this very table. “I think you must mean yourself, not me.”
The beer baron glanced between the two of them. “I should be counting my blessings at being in such splendid company—you are correct.” He poured himself a glass of tea from the silver pitcher and then did so for them.
“Thank you.” Gracie gazed intently at him. “When I don’t get what I want I try to stay happy anyway. And I pray. Like I have prayed about a job. And a place to live.”
A slow grin tipped Yost’s lips. “I have no wine—but jobs I have aplenty. You were saying?”
“It’s just that, well, I didn’t want to say, but my birthday is coming up and…”
As the two began to chat about Gracie’s predicament, Juliana watched their dinner partner’s bright eyes. James Yost was quite possibly the most impressive and focused man she’d ever met. The few private conversations they’d had about library science and management of large facilities helped her realize how well-educated and intelligent he was. On the other hand, she still sensed an invisible hand holding her back. Maybe he did have a secret temper and alcohol problems.
Juliana still felt the young ebony-haired man’s eyes on her, from the other end of the room. There was something very familiar about him. And a pleasing countenance that took her breath away. She allowed herself to look at him again, but the handsome man’s eyes were focused on something behind her.
Gracie elbowed her and Juliana stifled a protest. “Look, there’s Mr. Christy.”
She daren’t move. What was Richard doing here? Oh…the connection with Mrs. Jeffries, that had to be it. But instead of Richard, or his younger brother Garrett, as she turned she spied a much more mature-looking version of the youngest Christy. The man could have been Richard’s brother, Garrett, but aged forward about twenty five years. He had to be the patriarch of the Christy family. On his arm, a lovely woman, in a gown even more old-fashioned than her own, entered with all the grace of a queen. Her features resembled Cordelia Jeffries’— perhaps her sister. Then Josephine and her fiancé Tom followed
. And Garrett with Rebecca Hart. Where was Richard?
The three couples continued down the aisle between the tables and stopped where the handsome young man waited. He rose, bringing more, and more, and more of his tall frame into view. It couldn’t be. No. But it was. It was Richard—all six feet six inches of him. Her mouth fell open. She closed it and swallowed.
Yost leaned in. “Are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a specter.”
A waiter arrived and offered coffee, sparing Juliana from responding to his question.
Not only had his attempt to spiff up failed, but his efforts had failed miserably, judging from the look on Miss Beauchamps’ pretty face. She looked even more aghast than she had at the library. Richard exhaled loudly and leaned back in his too-small chair. On the opposite side of the table sat Pa, with Cordelia Jeffries’ sister, Irene St. Clair, beside him. Past her, Ox sat next to Rebecca.
Seated beside him, his sister pressed his hand. “What’s wrong? Did my little brother get his heart broken already, with that magnificent face showing?”
Tom had the nerve to lean in across her and laugh at him. Richard scowled back.
“What’s that?” Pa inclined his head. “Don’t tell me another one of my children is lovesick. Not sure I could bear it.”
Jo snapped open her napkin and arranged it on her lap. “I’m not lovesick, Pa.”
Pa snorted. “Until you’re proper married, I’m believin’ you are, baby girl.”
Resting on his elbows, Richard cast a red-faced Tom his own smart-alecky look. “Yup, yer right, Pa. Leastwise Tom is lovesick.” He chuckled.
Ox snatched a roll from the basket and tossed it across the table at Richard. He caught it mid-air. His brother wrapped an arm around Rebecca. “Nah, Pa. Moose is fine and dandy.”
If only they knew. He caught Juliana Beauchamps sneaking a peek in his direction and tried to hold her gaze, but she looked away. A pretty pink flush crept up her neck. Maybe she does like me after all—and she will attend the ball with me. But why was she seated by James Yost, the beer baron? What chance did he have against that man and his money? None.
Lilacs for Juliana (The Christy Lumber Camp Series Book 3) Page 10
