by Bobbi Smith
With Chance nowhere in sight, Rori grew edgy, but Agatha sensed that and immediately put her fears to rest.
"I'm sure you've had a difficult time with all you've been through during the last few months, but all that's going to change now. You'll see," Agatha told her as they hurried across town in the Broderick carriage.
"The hardest part has been learning everything," Rori confided, "and there's still so much more I need to know."
"You're doing beautifully," she complimented.
Rori smiled, warming toward this open, friendly lady who seemed so genuinely concerned about her. "I'm glad you think so. I was worried about meeting you. I was afraid I'd make a bad impression."
"Nonsense," Agatha pooh-poohed. "We'll take one day at a time, and you'll see how easy it really can be."
"I hope so . . . " Rori let her voice trail off as she thought of her upcoming confrontation with the wonderful Bethany. This woman who was Chance's lover had haunted her ever since she'd first heard Chance speak of her many weeks ago. Seeing Bethany and Chance together tonight was going to be difficult, and she hoped she could carry it off without doing anything stupid.
With Big Jake sleeping beside him, Chance sat at his desk trying to concentrate on the stack of contracts and business letters that were piled before him. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't focus his attention on his work. His thoughts, instead, kept drifting to the night ahead . . . and Bethany.
A few months ago he might have felt differently about the upcoming soirée, but now the only emotion Bethany and her plans stirred in him was irritation. He wondered why she'd taken it upon herself to give the party for him. He remembered their last time together before he'd left town, and it hadn't been a particularly endearing encounter.
Chance shook his head as he strode to the small liquor cabinet and poured himself a tumbler of bourbon. He didn't know why he was feeling particularly tense about seeing Bethany again. He just knew that he didn't relish the idea of being with her tonight. This was Rori's first night in Boston, and he'd wanted it to be something special for her. He downed the drink, and when he caught Jakie's questioning gaze upon him, he shrugged and gave him an almost silly grin.
"Sometimes, Jake, old boy, a drink is the only thing that helps."
With a sigh, Chance set the empty glass aside and returned to his desk. If nothing else, he thought, at least Rori would have the opportunity to meet all the other bachelors in town tonight, and that would be a beginning for her. Chance knew, too, now that his mother had taken charge, that Rori would be looking absolutely perfect tonight. There was no way any fashion error was going to get past Agatha Broderick. Confident that Rori's appearance would be faultless this evening, he turned his concentration to matters at hand. But as he attempted to get to work, the thought of Rori meeting other men kept distracting him and leaving him uneasy.
"Miss Aurora, your hair is delightful to work with," Jeannie, Agatha's maid, told Rori as she sat at the dressing table in her bedroom at about seven o'clock that evening. "Do you have a particular style that you like best?"
Rori was embarrassed to tell the maid that she'd never had her hair styled in her life, that she'd always just worn it in braids or loose down her back. "No. Please feel free to do whatever you want."
"Well, Miss Agatha told me to make sure you looked special for tonight, so let's see what we can do here." Jeannie pulled the silken ebony tresses up away from her face and pinned them in place with combs. She then set about curling the back so the heavy mass would fall about her shoulders in a cascade of soft curls. She knew the style was a simple one, but sometimes simple was better, for it would emphasize Miss Aurora's lovely features, not detract from them.
It took her nearly half an hour to arrange it to perfection, during which time Rori tried to keep from fidgeting. She'd never had to hold still so much in one day during her entire life as she had today. First, for what seemed like hours at the dressmaker's with Agatha and now with Jeannie. It was nearly driving Rori crazy.
Thoughts of the upcoming party and her inevitable introduction to Bethany refused to be banished, and Rori knew tonight would be the most important night of her whole life. Tonight she would meet her competition for Chance's heart. For a moment, doubts assailed her. What hope did she have of winning his love against a, no doubt, sophisticated woman like Bethany? The thought was paralyzing, but Rori fought it off. She was scared, but she refused to let it unnerve her. She loved Chance and she was going to get him. She set her jaw tensely as her determination grew.
"You don't like it, Miss Aurora?" Jeannie had glanced up into the mirror and had noticed the fierceness in Rori's expression. She worried that she wasn't pleasing her.
Rori blinked, focusing for the first time on her own reflection in the mirror and that of the suddenly very nervous maid. She was stunned by how marvelous her hair looked and how the style emphasized her eyes. "Oh, no, Jeannie. It looks wonderful!" she smiled at her reassuringly. "I was just thinking about something else, that's all."
"Oh, good," Jeannie sighed, relieved. "You looked so, well, upset. Is it anything I can help with?"
Rori had never confided in anybody in her life, and no matter how much she wanted to, she found she couldn't. "No. I guess I'm just a little nervous about tonight."
"There's no need for you to worry there. With Miss Agatha and Mr. Chance beside you, you don't have a worry in the world."
"I don't?"
"No, ma'am, Miss Aurora. The Brodericks are important people here."
"Oh."
"It's getting late. It's after seven already." Jeannie noticed the time as she glanced at the clock on the mantel above the fireplace. "We'd better see about getting you into that gown right now."
Rori rose from the dressing table as the maid hustled to get the dress ready for her to don. With the utmost care, she slipped into the gorgeous creation and stood quietly while Jeannie fastened it and then adjusted the skirts. The maid stood back to study her handiwork. Just as she was about to speak, a soft knock sounded at the door.
"Jeannie? Aurora? Are you ready yet?"
"Come in, Miss Agatha. I think everything's just about perfect."
The older woman entered as she was bid and quietly closed the door behind her. She was ready for the ball, having donned a fashionable, double-skirted evening gown of rose satin. Her hair, too, had been artfully arranged, and Rori thought she looked lovely.
"Oh, Agatha, you look positively elegant!" Rori gushed.
"Thank you, my dear," Agatha beamed. "Now, let's see how elegant you look." Agatha circled Rori, studying her critically, her expression thoughtful. When she finally spoke, it wasn't to Rori, but to Jeannie. "You've done a wonderful job. Aurora will be the belle of the ball tonight."
"I think so, too, ma'am."
"I will?" Rori looked from her benefactress to the maid questioningly.
"Françoise was worth every cent we paid her," Agatha declared. "That dress is absolutely stunning on you, Aurora. Have you seen yourself yet?"
"No, I . . . "
"Then you must take a look in the mirror right now, Take a look and see what Boston will see for the first time tonight."
Rori resisted for a moment, feeling slightly shy about it, and then lifted her gaze to stare openly at herself. She gasped in stunned surprise. The full-skirted, off-the-shoulder gown of white tulle and lace fit her like a dream. The bodice was relatively low-cut, highlighting the fullness of her breasts while accentuating her slender waist. Rori had never known she could look so feminine or so positively delicate.
"But it doesn't even look like me!" Rori protested, turning to Agatha with a troubled look upon her face.
"Ah, but it is you, Aurora," Agatha said serenely. "You are a beautiful young woman, and tonight the whole world will know." Including my son, she thought with unspoken delight. "Finish up whatever you have to do here, and then meet me in the parlor in, say, ten minutes. Will that give you enough time."
"Oh, yes, ma'am.
Miss Aurora will be ready," Jeannie promised.
"Good. I'll see you downstairs." Agatha swept from the room without a backward glance.
Agatha found Chance in the parlor, a glass of bourbon in hand. He reminded her so much of her long-dead husband at that moment, so tall, dark, and classically handsome in his evening clothes, that her heart actually ached. Chance was such a good man, and Agatha knew he deserved so much more in life than just his work. He deserved a wife and a family.
She thought of Bethany and of how the young woman had tried her best to insinuate herself into her good graces while Chance had been gone. She liked Bethany and knew she had all the correct social influence, but she wasn't sure she was the right woman for her son. The fact that Chance was drinking already and had not been the least bit enthused about the upcoming party clued her that something might be troubling him. Agatha hoped that her guess as to what, or who, that might be was correct.
"Good evening, dear. You're looking magnificently handsome this evening."
Chance gave her a crooked smile as he set his glass aside. "You're looking lovely as always, Mother."
"I wasn't fishing for compliments, my dear boy, but thank you all the same." She came into the room to join him, pressing a soft kiss on his proffered cheek. She rested a hand on his arm to get his attention as she spoke again. "I believe we have a small problem," she told him with an earnestness that caused him to immediately tense.
"Rori?" Chance asked. He hadn't seen Rori since she'd had taken her over earlier that afternoon, and he'd been worrying constantly, wondering how she was. "What happened? What did she do?"
"Nothing 'happened,' my dear, and I don't know why you're so concerned about what she did. She didn't do anything but be a complete lady all day long."
Chance breathed a noticeable sigh of relief as he took a quick drink from his glass.
"It's just that she should have some jewelry to go with the gown we selected for her," she went on, "and I was wondering how you felt about her wearing your grandmother's pearls." Agatha had been thinking about the pearls ever since Rori had first tried the gown on at the dressmaker's that afternoon. She knew they would match the dress perfectly and positively glow against Rori's flawless skin.
Chance was surprised by his mother's suggestion. His grandmother's jewelry had been set aside for years now, waiting for Doug and him to marry so it could be divided between their wives. Yet now that he considered it, the thought of Rori wearing the lustrous pearls pleased him.
"I think it's a wonderful idea."
"Why don't you go and get them, darling? Aurora will be down in a few minutes, and you can help her put them on then." As she watched her son go, Agatha smiled to herself. She was becoming more and more convinced that her maternal instincts were right.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Rori was having difficulty walking with all the petticoats and hoops on, and she paused at the top of the staircase, not about to take any chances on the steps. After a quick, conspiratorial look to make sure that there was no one around to observe her, she hiked her skirts up well above her knees with one hand, clutched the bannister with the other for balance, and started down the steps. It was a tricky passage with the new, heeled shoes on, but she finally made it down to the main hall. Dropping her skirts back down, Rori smoothed them out in a ladylike gesture. She squared her shoulders, gave her hair a gentle pat to make sure it was still in place, and then continued on to the parlor where she could hear Chance and his mother talking.
"It's getting late. Are you sure she's . . ." Chance was saying, glancing at his timepiece as he paced the room.
"She was almost ready to come down when I left her. Don't worry, Chance," his mother chided him, trying to control the smile that threatened. She had never seen her son so eager to be with a woman in his life.
"I think I'm ready."
At the sound of Aurora's voice in the doorway, Chance spun quickly around. He didn't know what he was expecting, but it was not this. Struck speechless, he stood immobile, staring at the vision of loveliness before him.
"Rori?" He finally said her name in hoarse astonishment.
"Good evening, Chance." She smiled, and then turned to his mother. "Agatha."
"Good evening, Aurora. Come join us."
"Thank you." She moved forward into the room very much aware of Chance's dark eyes upon her.
Chance could not look away. Neither could he say anything more. This was Rori? His Rori? His gaze devoured her from the top of her fashionable hairstyle to the tips of her slippers where they peeped from beneath the exquisite white gown she wore. How could this be Rori? Rori wore pigtails. Rori rode better than he did and shot better, too.
Chance was dumbfounded to say the least. He'd known that Rori had looked attractive in the dresses he'd chosen for her in St. Louis, but they were sacks compared to this. Dear Lord, he mused besottedly, she'd turned into the most breathtaking woman he'd even seen.
"Chance, darling, quit gawking at Aurora, and tell us a man's opinion. What do you think?"
The sound of his mother's voice penetrated the dazed stupor Chance had found himself in, and he finally regained his senses. Realizing that she'd asked him a question, he turned slightly toward her and lifted his glass in a toast.
"Mother, you have outdone yourself."
"The credit all goes to Aurora, Chancellor dear. She is, after all, the beauty. On a lesser woman, that gown would be totally ineffectual."
"Indeed it would be," he agreed huskily, his gaze swinging back to Rori. He set his drink aside and strode purposefully toward her.
Rori had been watching the whole exchange between the two and was beginning to feel like a half-side of beef hung out for display. "Does that mean you like the dress?" she asked Chance as he came to stand before her.
"I love the dress," Chance told her. "Now, turn around for a minute."
"Why? Is something wrong in the back?" Rori twisted to try to get a look behind her.
He gave a deep chuckle, and the sound skittered pleasantly down Rori's spine. "The back is fine, love. Just turn around because I asked you to."
"But . . ." Rori was puzzled by his request, but did as he asked.
"I have a present for you."
"A present? For me?" Rori asked. She rarely got presents, and she was practically dancing with excitement at the thought.
"You won't be absolutely perfect without these," he said in a low, husky voice as he drew the jewelry case from his coat pocket and opened it. He took out the single strand of luminous pearls and fastened them about her throat. "There."
"I knew those pearls would be elegant with that gown. She looks positively stunning," Agatha spoke up from across the room.
"I do?" Rori turned to face Chance.
"You do," he concurred. He held up two earbobs that matched the necklace. "Now, do you know how to put these on?"
"No . . ." she answered breathlessly as she reverently touched the pearls that weighed heavily about her throat and dipped between her breasts.
"I'll have to do it for you, then." Chance took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. His fingers were strong and sure as he completed the task.
Rori shivered at the feel of his hands upon her flesh, and she lifted her emerald gaze to his as he adjusted the earrings. The moment was suspended in time. Man and woman. It was an unsettling instant that touched them both with a deep yet unspoken recognition of desire.
"There," he said unsteadily as he quickly withdrew from that simple contact. "Now you really are perfect."
It was all Agatha could do to control her delight as she watched the two of them together. She knew Chance well, probably better than he knew himself, and she realized as she played the observer that he was totally enamored with his young ward. The thought pleased Agatha to no end.
"We were just having a drink while we waited for you," Agatha said, deliberately breaking the strained silence of the moment. "Would you care to join us?"
Rori c
ast a worried glance at Chance. She had never had any liquor to drink in her whole life. "I've never really had liquor before."
"Then tonight is going to be an experience for you, isn't it?" Agatha broached, thinking how delightfully guileless Aurora was.
"I am a little nervous."
"You'll do fine," she told her confidently.
"There is one thing . . . I didn't have the time to teach her to dance," Chance admitted regretfully.
"Oh, my." Agatha looked perplexed for a moment, but then smiled. "Well, no matter. Things will all work out. You'll stay with either Chance or me all night, that's all."
"Do you really think it'll work?" Rori worried.
"Of course, it will work, and tomorrow, I shall arrange lessons for you with Monsieur LaPointe. He's absolutely the best, and by the time the next party arrives, you'll be able to dance rings around all the other young ladies."
"I hope you're right."
"Do you doubt me, child?" Agatha used her stern taskmaster voice.
"Oh, no, Agatha. It's just that you put so much faith in me. I don't know the first thing about dancing, and yet you think I'm going to be good at it right away."
"My dear, you can do anything you set your mind to. Do you want to learn how to dance?"
"Oh, yes!" The thought of being held in Chance's arms sent her pulses racing.
"Then you will," she concluded in a tone that brooked no argument. "Now, shall we go? It's fashionable to be a tad late, but not too much so."
"The carriage is waiting," Chance announced as he offered them each an arm and escorted them from the room.
"Now, Aurora," Agatha continued counseling her as they left the house, "drink only champagne while you're at the ball and just take ladylike sips of that."
"Yes, ma'am."
Bethany was slowly going out of her mind as she stood in the foyer of her home with Regina greeting her late-arriving guests. "I know damn well Chance's back! Where the hell is he?" she complained in an undertone to her friend.
