Chapter 5
The moment Rory walked in, she spotted him. Her pilot. What were the odds? Seeing him draped over some blonde at the bar, something inside her caught and burned wild. Even though it was none of her business. Who was he to her? Just an idle daydream.
The bartender waved at Edward. That was odd.
Surely, Edward didn’t know the bartender.
Edward didn’t respond, so it must have been a case of mistaken identity.
This was definitely not the sort of place Edward usually frequented.
For heaven’s sake, there were peanut shells on the floor, and there was a propeller on the wall.
Edward steered her to a table. “They’re all watching us. I like that dress you’re wearing. Very attention catching.”
She gave him a half smile. Yes, she looked good.
Her dress was the latest fashion from Paris, made of dusky pink silk with a low square neckline and the merest whisper of transparent fabric hinting at sleeves.
The skirt draped like the robes on a Greek statue, asymmetrical folds clinging to her shape.
It fell to mid-calf, as short as propriety would allow.
A long string of pearls dripped to her waist, and her hair was in a chignon, with ornately beaded ribbon in a band around her head.
Edward looked dapper as usual this evening in his gray, worsted wool suit with a midnight-blue silk tie. To all the world, they looked like a match made in heaven. Only she seemed to care that his eye wandered constantly. He ordered them drinks and an assortment of bar snacks.
She glanced at Hank, who was not looking in her direction at all. Good. That was as it should be.
“Are you all right? You seem a bit distracted,” Edward asked, settling back in his chair.
“Hmm?” she said. “Oh, I’m fine. I thought I saw someone that looked familiar, but I was wrong.”
“Familiar? At a place like this? Not likely,” he said with a laugh.
The sense that he was withholding something grew, but she did her best to ignore it.
Their drinks arrived, and he raised his glass. “To the Belmonts.”
She sighed inwardly. He was toasting her father, not her, but she would take what she could get.
“Well, I can’t argue with that. To me.” She clinked her glass against his and took a sip. Mmm. Thank heavens for Manhattans.
At that moment, a new singer took the stage, an oddly familiar redhead in a gown even more clinging than her own. Edward’s expression suddenly turned into an appreciative leer, and the singer looked straight at him, then glanced at Rory and looked away.
Rory’s stomach lurched. Her nails bit into her palms as something within her clicked. She could see Edward’s hands on the perfectly round red silk-encased buttocks on stage. The singer from the engagement party. The absolute nerve of this man…
“Edward?” she said as lightly as she could manage.
“Hmm?” he said still staring at the stage.
“Edward,” she hissed. He turned at last, blinking rapidly.
“What is she doing here?” she demanded.
He shrugged and took a drink. “What is who doing here?”
“The singer. She’s one of your paramours, isn’t she?” Her insides turned to ice. Enough was enough.
“Rory, now let’s not jump to conclusions—”
“Now, you’re calling me Rory? Admit the truth. She is, isn’t she?”
He was silent.
She fought the urge to throw her drink in his face. “I shouldn’t be surprised. I just wouldn’t have expected you to flaunt it like this.”
“I’m not flaunting—”
“Oh? What would you call this?” she hissed more vehemently than she intended.
You’re a practical girl, remember?
She kept her gaze on Edward, trying not to notice that now Hank was looking at her. He wasn’t the only one looking either. She and Edward were making a scene, no matter how quiet they tried to be.
“I thought it was for the best,” Edward said quietly. “She spends a lot of time at my house. I thought it was better for you to meet her now than after we’re married.”
What?
“‘After we’re married’? You weren’t planning to keep bringing her home, were you? If not for decency’s sake, what about the marriage contract you signed with Papa?”
His face fell. His brow furrowed. She’d foolishly hoped the fidelity clause would keep Edward’s more flagrant indiscretions in check once they were wed, but apparently she was wrong.
“You said you were a practical girl. Your father would never enforce the fidelity clause unless you complained. I thought you’d understand.
What am I supposed to do while you’re off with those termagants you call friends fighting for the vote?
This is supposed to be a modern marriage.
I thought you understood what that meant.
I like you fine, but committing to you and only you for the rest of my life…
What man could keep a promise like that? ”
“Every married man worth his salt. That’s who,” she fumed, failing to keep her voice down. “Not to mention any senator who wants to keep his job. What do you think your constituents would think of our ‘modern marriage’? And exactly how modern is it? Would I be free to behave just as badly as you?”
“People are looking, Rory,” he whispered. “Let’s go back to my place and we can finish this discussion in private.”
“If you think I’m coming back to your place after this, you have another think coming,” she whispered back.
“What are you going to do? Stay in a hotel?” he laughed.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. You know Papa’s secretary always reserves me a room when I come down to visit, and I intend to use it. Go home, Edward. I need some time to myself.”
“Fine,” he said aloud, throwing down his napkin and several bills to cover their tab. “We’ll talk about this later when you’re less hysterical.” With that, he stormed out of the club, leaving her alone.
Just keep breathing.
She downed the remnants of her drink and ordered another. The singer caught her eye and gave her a triumphant look. She had to get out of here.
“Rory?”
That voice. She looked up. Hank finally used her name.
“Are you all right?” he asked. The blonde, she noticed, stood abandoned back at the bar, looking bereft.
“Of course, I’m all right.” But a tear rolled down her cheek. “Damn it all,” she said, furiously wiping it away. She wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Her arrangement with Edward was a practical one, not a romantic one, so why was she crying?
“Of course, you are, princess,” Hank said, taking a seat without being invited. “Looks to me like you need to get out of here before that asshole you came in with comes back.”
“Watch your tongue. He’s my fiancé,” she shot back reflexively.
“And he doesn’t deserve you.” Somewhat to her disappointment, he kept a respectful distance.
“And you do?” She eyed him with suspicion.
“Oh, I definitely don’t deserve you. Listen, let me see you safely to wherever it is you’re going. You look like you need a friend.”
She chuckled through her tears. “And now you’re a friend?”
“I am if you’ll let me be.” His face was earnest, but his eyes sparked with something more.
Rory exhaled. Of all the reasons to find herself alone with him, why did it have to be this?
“I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” she said, straightening her shoulders and patting her skirt and hair. Edward could rot in hell for all she cared.
“Come on, princess,” he said, standing and offering his hand. “I solemnly swear I won’t lay a hand on you.” There was that penetrating look again, as if he understood her all too well. She wanted to look away, but she was hooked, caught.
Draining her glass, she dug out some change from her purse to pay for her drink.
“Aw, princess, let me get that for you,” he said, frowning at the money she just laid on the table and reaching for his wallet.
“No, no. That’s quite all right. Look! I’ve already taken care of it.
” The waiter whisked by and picked up the payment.
Rory sighed with relief. While she wanted to trust Hank, she didn’t know what his expectations might be if she let him pay.
It was probably best if she kept a bit of distance, even if a wayward part of her craved just the opposite.
Nonetheless, she let him take her hand and lead her out without resistance while he flagged down a cab.
“Hotel Monaco,” she directed the driver.
Sitting in the back of the cab, she could feel the heat radiating from Hank. His arm just barely brushed against her own.
“You really aren’t going to lay a hand on me?” she said, trying to ignore the coiling warmth at her core caused by his proximity.
His eyes smoldered. “You’re angry at someone else. Distracted. It wouldn’t be right.”
But he wanted her. She was sure of it. At least someone did.
The magnetic pull of his proximity drew her closer, closer… Her eyes flicked to his lips. He held her gaze but kept his distance, placing a gentle hand on hers and shaking his head slowly.
She must look a fright after crying. He must be horrified.
“I’m sorry you’re seeing me like this,” she said, unable to pull away from his penetrating gaze.
“I’m glad I was there to help. No one deserves to be treated like that. If he can’t see what he has in you, then he’s a fool.”
What would it be like to be loved and cherished by someone like Hank?
Not that she should engage in such a maudlin train of thought.
But there was something about him that made her want to crawl into his protective embrace and never come out.
Whoever won his heart would be a very lucky woman indeed.
Sadly, that woman would never be her.
Looking away, she laughed ruefully. “No, I’m the fool for thinking I could go through with this marriage without tears. Edward is a pig, and I shouldn’t have expected anything better.”
“Of course, you should expect better.”
She shook her head and laughed ruefully. “Nice men don’t want to marry fallen women.” She caught his gaze and held it, wondering how he would react. “I’m sure you’ve heard about my scandal. Everyone else in New York has.”
He smiled and shrugged. “You’re not fallen for doing what men and women have done together from the beginning of time.” What a dear he was! If only more men took that perspective, her life might not have been so miserable at the moment.
“You should see what the gossip rags write about me. ‘Fallen’ is the least of it. Did you know my father didn’t think he’d ever be able to marry off a misfit like me?
It’s truly stunning the amount of money he offered Edward to take me off his hands.
” She caught Hank’s eye again and leaned in.
“You should stay away from me, you know. I’m nothing but trouble. Everyone says so.”
The corner of his mouth twitched up into a mischievous half smile. “And what if I like trouble?”
My God, this man and the things he makes me want to do.
Of course, that was the moment the cab ground to a halt in front of her hotel.
How did they get there so quickly? As she was about to say good night and open the door, he took her hand.
She sat there frozen and gaping as he raised it to his lips and kissed her fingers.
It was so polite and yet so intimate. She’d never felt so much from such a subtle touch.
“Are you busy tomorrow morning?” she found herself asking.
What was she doing? No good could come of seeing more of this man, especially here in D.C.
with Edward so nearby. There was a decent chance Edward would come back to find her and talk things out in the morning.
Though maybe that was why she was asking.
If she had to face Edward, she wanted backup.
“No. Why?”
“Come back tomorrow morning at eight and have breakfast with me.”
He smiled. “With pleasure. Goodnight, Rory.”
“Goodnight, Hank.”
The cab door closed, and he drove off into the night, leaving her alone with her newly shattered future. There would be consequences for spurning Edward. She knew that. But that was a problem for later.