Chapter 29
The hansom cab pulled up in front of a brick townhouse on Washington Street, only three stories high and sandwiched between much larger buildings, a modest yet elegant edifice that looked, from its blank bow window, empty.
“Where are you taking me?” Maggie asked curiously as she took Theo’s hand and stepped from the cab. He’d refused to be drawn on the matter during the short carriage ride from Palmer House, and now his eyes danced as he took a wrought-iron key from the pocket of his jacket.
“Your new premises,” he stated with a studied nonchalance as he brandished the key with a grin.
“What!” The word came out in a squeak as, still holding her hand, Theo drew her up the shallow steps of the building and unlocked the door.
Maggie knew she should protest. Refuse to enter, even, and yet, for the moment, her curiosity was greater than the concern for her reputation.
The building was beautiful. The front hallway had a floor of checkered marble and a small, sparkling chandelier suspended above.
A set of narrow stairs led to the upper floors, and as she walked into the front room, she could already picture the elegant settees she could have for customers, the display cases for the hats she had yet to design, the velvet drapes at the window, the cheval mirror she could put in the corner for women to admire their reflections in.
Her heart felt like a balloon rising in her chest as she imagined it all, almost as if it were already real—and she was standing at the center of it, independent and elegant.
“This, of course, would be your showroom,” Theo told her.
He was still holding her hand. “The light is terrific, isn’t it?
I can see it all already. And back here, a workroom.
” He led her back out to the hallway and then into the room behind, which was of the same decent size and had a window that looked out on an alleyway that ran between the buildings.
Maggie pictured the tables, wide enough to cut fabric, whose bolts would be stacked in shelves against the wall. They’d need more light, she mused, to work by, but judging from the chandelier in the hall, the house was already wired with electricity.
“And behind this,” he continued, pulling her along, “space for storage and your own office.”
The third and fourth rooms, both a little smaller, were side to side and faced a modest courtyard in the back. One had cupboards running along one wall and enough space for a desk and a couple of chairs; the other would be perfect for storing extra fabric and all the tools of her trade.
“Upstairs is the same layout,” Theo explained, “and you could use it for additional storage space, or as your own apartment, or both. The third floor is an attic, but you could use it for a woman of all work, when you hire her, which of course you will.” He tugged her hand once more. “Come see.”
Maggie let herself be led upstairs to admire the front room facing the street, with a fireplace flanked by bookshelves.
It would certainly suffice as a parlor, and the room behind could be an excellent bedroom.
The smaller rooms could serve as another bedroom and a kitchen, and there was a bathroom besides, with running water and a flush toilet.
Upstairs, there were two more rooms, each with a gabled window that reminded Maggie of her old maid’s room back at the Caters’ house in New York.
And Theo was suggesting that all of this would be hers?
She was speechless.
“Well?” Theo asked as they headed back downstairs to the front room overlooking the street. He’d finally dropped his hand from hers, shoving both of his in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels. “What do you think?”
“I…” Maggie shook her head helplessly. It was perfect, exactly the sort of establishment she would have chosen if she’d had the opportunity of doing so. It was like a daydream come to life, and yet she knew she couldn’t accept it.
Could she?
All the reasons remained why anything between her and Theo Stein would be improper—the potential gossip, the speculation, the scandal, all of which could cost her her business as well as her personal reputation.
When she considered how everyone had seemed willing to believe Mr. O’Malley over her own trembling account, did she really think eyebrows wouldn’t be raised and worse—far worse—on learning that the shopgirl from Field’s had a handsome young investor, one who had dined her with champagne at the finest restaurant in the city?
And what about Mrs. Stein? Maggie knew instinctively and utterly that her benefactress would not welcome any kind of acquaintance between her and her son.
Could she afford to jeopardize her relationship with the woman? Did she even want to?
And yet… Theo had said they had a business relationship. Men of finance did invest, at times, in businesses run by women. Why, Sarah Whitman had told her of a brokerage firm in New York run by two women!
Maggie thought of Field’s and its motto to give the lady what she wanted. This was what she wanted…. and Theo Stein was offering it to her, on a silver platter. Could she really afford to refuse? Why should she, just because of a few wagging tongues or raised eyebrows?
“I… I don’t know what to say,” she admitted. She walked to the window and glanced down at the street, the leaves of the trees touched with autumnal scarlet and gold, a carriage clattering by.
“Say yes,” Theo replied. “It really can be that simple.”
Maggie continued to stare out at the street, her back to Theo.
“I don’t know that it is,” she replied quietly, compelled to honesty because she wanted this too much, and at the same time too much was at stake.
She could not afford to be flippant the way Theo was.
“Does your mother know of this scheme of yours?” she asked.
“My mother?” Theo sounded both incredulous and annoyed, and with a sigh Maggie turned to face him, knowing this was a conversation that had to be had.
“She has been responsible for all my custom so far,” she pointed out, “and you know as well as I do that she has not encouraged any kind of association between us in the slightest. Does she know of these investment plans of yours? Have you spoken about it with her?”
For a second, the corners of Theo’s mouth turned down, his lashes brushed his cheeks as he stared at the floor, and he reminded Maggie of a sulky little boy.
“No, she does not and I have not,” he finally admitted on an impatient sigh.
“But I am twenty-three years old and I am not tied to her apron strings. She doesn’t need to know, Maggie. ”
“And if she finds out?” Maggie challenged, knowing it had to be said, and faced. “A quiet word to her friends and she could end whatever success I’ve had so far.”
“My mother is not so vindictive,” Theo protested.
“But if it concerns you so much, I’ll tell her.
” He shrugged, as if it were a simple matter.
“She can hardly fault me, since she has taken such an interest in your business herself. And, like I said…” He took a step toward her, his voice dropping to a husky and intimate murmur.
“Everything about our relationship is entirely proper.”
With a lazy smile, he reached for her hand, every action belying the words he’d just uttered, words Maggie wanted to believe and yet, taking in his heavy-lidded look now, she feared she could not.
“Theo…” she began, but her damningly halfhearted protest was cut off as he pulled her toward him and kissed her, his mouth moving slowly and persuasively over hers, so her mind emptied out and her veins felt as if they ran with molten honey.
Maggie meant to step back, to rebuke him sternly for taking such a shocking liberty, especially when he’d just said he wouldn’t, and yet somehow she didn’t.
Somehow she let her head fall back as Theo continued to kiss her even more thoroughly and her arms came around his shoulders as if of their own accord, pulling him even closer.
To her shame, Theo broke the kiss first. “I think,” he murmured against her mouth, “we just shook on it.”
With what felt like enormous effort, Maggie wrenched herself out of his arms. “You… you shouldn’t have,” she muttered as she pressed her hand to her mouth, sick with shame at her own wanton behavior.
She felt humiliated by his liberties, and even angrier with herself for not only allowing them, but enjoying them.
How could she be so weak, especially now?
“You’re irresistible,” Theo replied with an easy laugh. “And,” he added in a murmur, “the way you blush and stammer like an innocent maiden is truly delectable.”
“I am an innocent maiden,” Maggie snapped. His teasing remark made her wonder if he’d believed Harriet O’Malley’s lies, a prospect that was utterly abhorrent. “If you are taking advantage of me,” she told him in a shaking voice, “because you—you think I’m a woman of loose morals—”
“Maggie, I was teasing,” Theo protested.
He caught her balled fists in his hands and drew her toward him, his dark, liquid gaze on hers.
“I keep forgetting that you don’t know how to flirt,” he murmured as he slowly uncurled each of her fingers, flattening out her palms so he could slide his own over hers and twine their fingers together in a gesture that felt as familiar as the kiss they’d just shared.
“I think you’re wonderful,” he told her.
“You’re talented and beautiful and feisty and strong, and I love teasing you.
I love kissing you, too,” he added, his mouth curving, “but I won’t do it again without permission, I promise. Fair?”
Maggie stared at him, caught between desire and fear, temptation and a deep, innate caution.
She should yank her hands from his, put Theo Stein firmly in his place, and forge her future without his investment—or his interest. But the building was so beautiful, and the dream so beguiling, and his kiss so tempting, and life had been so very hard in so many ways, ever since she’d arrived in America.
She felt as if she’d had to fight for everything tooth and claw, only to have it carelessly taken away by some indifferent player in her life—Kathleen O’Shaughnessy, Mrs. Cater, Mr. Selfridge, Harriet O’Malley.
Each of them had destroyed her dreams without compunction or regret or even thought.
At every turn, she’d been thwarted in some way and forced to start again, from nothing, with nothing.
Why shouldn’t this one thing be easy? Why shouldn’t she let it?
For a second, Maggie’s hands tensed on Theo’s. She felt as if her entire life was hanging in the balance, swaying on a single thread, and she had the power to snap it in a stroke or follow the skein wherever it led.
Theo smiled at her, his eyes glinting, his hands still clasping hers as he waited for her response, as if he knew how conflicted she felt. Was her torment evident on her face? Did he sense it seething within her?
And then, suddenly, like a streak of lightning cleaving her in two, it all felt dazzlingly and reassuringly simple.
She’d spent so much time trying to be cautious, playing it safe, and when had that ever benefitted her?
She’d only succeeded when she’d dared, Maggie realized.
When she’d faced a challenge with courage and taken the risk, whatever it was.
And so, she would do so again. She would ride out any whispers or rumors and take her future, her fortune, with both hands.
Lifting her chin, Maggie gave Theo a bright, hard smile as she released his hands and stepped back.
“Fair,” she said.