Chapter 13
Ann stepped through the door of Delmonico’s with Junior, wondering what she had gotten herself into.
Never would she have guessed she’d enter this inner sanctum of the city’s elite.
Dinner at Delmonico’s was something that the socialites Mama read about did, and who was she?
But with Bill’s arm to steady her, she steeled herself and straightened her back.
She was Ann Prince, and tonight she had as much right to be here as Mrs. Astor.
Oh, Mama, I hope you’re watching from heaven!
The Belmonts had rented out the entire restaurant.
Low light from hanging chandeliers cast a golden glow on the glittering attendees, and red-velvet drapes cocooned the room in opulent splendor.
The rich scents of roasted meat mixed with the heady perfumes of society ladies.
Black-suited waiters looked down their noses at one and all.
It almost made her want to laugh. That was what people paid for, she supposed—the illusion that no one was good enough and they were all lucky to have even been allowed inside.
Ann wished she could let go of her self-consciousness and take it all in, but Junior was fussing, and her breasts ached with milk.
Wonderful. Somehow, she had to find a quiet place to feed him, or the evening was going to be a misery for them both.
But here? How was she ever going to work up the nerve to ask?
Especially in front of Bill. The mere thought made her want to sink through the floor.
Fortunately, Mrs. O’Donnell rushed toward them moments after they entered. “There’s my favorite baby boy.”
Ann relinquished Junior to her open arms, and his fussing turned into a full-on squall.
“Oh, dear. I bet you’re hungry aren’t you.” Mrs. O’Donnell didn’t miss a thing, did she? She leaned toward Ann. “Do you need to feed him, dear?”
“Yes.” Thank God she didn’t need to explain.
“Leave it to me.” Taking Ann’s wrist, she pulled her away from Bill. “We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
With the stern efficiency of a general, Mrs. O’Donnell bullied a red-faced waiter into opening a private dining room for her to use. It was an awe-inspiring sight. Ann hoped she had half as much spine when she reached Mrs. O’Donnell’s age.
As she sat in a velvet-covered dining chair feeding Junior, worries about Bill crowded her mind.
She had said she would pretend for the evening that she was any other woman in the company of a handsome man, but who was she fooling?
She had so little to give after all she’d been through.
It was only a matter of time before the realities of courting her would make him run away. If only she could make him understand.
But no. She’d given in to her inconvenient attraction and encouraged him when she should have stood her ground for both of their sakes.
“Everything all right in there, dear?” Mrs. O’Donnell asked through the door.
“Yes, everything is fine. Almost done.” Junior burped and looked up at her with dreamy, milk-drunk contentment. “Just another minute or two.”
“Take all the time you need, dear. I’m standing guard.”
Thank heavens. The last thing Ann wanted was for some stranger to walk in on her with her dress down to her waist. She put herself to rights as quickly as possible, letting Junior chew on a cloth napkin.
As soon as she was presentable, she opened the door. “Thank you for standing watch. I don’t know what I would have done.”
“Nonsense. You’re a woman with a head on her shoulders. I like that about you. Now give me this fine young gentleman here, and go sit with Bill.” She took Junior from her arms and shooed her toward the wedding party’s table.
Oh dear. She truly didn’t belong there, but it was too late to back away. Bill beckoned her over, and a moment later, she found herself sandwiched between Bill and his friend Jack.
“Mrs. Prince, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” Jack raised his glass of champagne to her. “How are you finding your new house?”
“I’m enjoying it quite a bit, thank you.” In the few weeks since she moved, she’d unpacked almost all the boxes. It was starting to feel like a real home.
Jack gave her a friendly smile. “Did you enjoy the ceremony?”
“I did. It was lovely.”
“Not as lovely as you,” Bill murmured in her ear.
His words sent a thrill through her. She had suspected as much from her glances at him during the ceremony, but she’d been too embarrassed to look back for any length of time. “Weren’t you supposed to be watching the bride and groom?”
He waved away her objection with his hand. “They don’t mind. They think you’re as wonderful as I do.”
A waiter came by and put a glass of champagne beside her plate, and she tried to hide her grimace. The last thing she needed this evening was to make a fool of herself like she did with the beer on moving day.
Bill motioned for the waiter to pause and turned to her. “Would you like something other than champagne to drink?”
That was so thoughtful of him! “Plain water will do for me.”
“You heard the lady. Water, please.”
The waiter frowned and mumbled, “Of course,” before disappearing into the crowd.
“Thank you, Bill. That was very thoughtful.” It was a small thing, but it meant so much to her that he had noticed.
“Anything for you,” he said, taking the opportunity to kiss her hand. Each touch and especially each kiss fueled the coiling warmth within her.
Dinner flew by in a flurry of plates, tinkling crystal, and boisterous conversation as half of New York City came to pay court to the bride and groom.
Well, mostly the bride. And her father, of course.
They didn’t have much to say to the side of the table with all the pilots, which was fine with the pilots.
Poor Hank had to endure their endless condescension, but Bill, Jack, and Ernie were a party unto themselves.
“Have you ever seen such a ritzy joint?” Jack asked in his broadest Brooklyn accent, grinning at the startled society matrons at the next table.
“And look at the way these birds are all dolled up.” Ernie winked at two young women dripping in pearls and waiting to speak to the new Mrs. Hawley. “Too bad Myrtle is missing this.” He elbowed Jack in the side.
The young ladies tittered and blushed, turning to whisper to each other as an older woman beside them glared at Ernie and steered them toward the Belmont side of the table.
“Maybe I should find myself an heiress like Hawley. How hard can it be?” Leaning back, Ernie took a long sip of champagne.
Ann had to laugh. “They should be so lucky.”
Those poor young ladies would probably have little choice in who they married if half what she read in her mother’s gossip papers was true.
“You know, I like you, Mrs. Prince. Not everyone recognizes what an honor it is to marry a pilot.” Ernie turned his dazzling smile on her.
She was sure most ladies swooned at the sight, but all she noticed was the sudden warmth of Bill’s arm around her shoulder.
“There are heiresses aplenty here tonight. Why don’t you leave my date alone and go try to charm one of them.” His tone was light, but there was a hint of irritation that made her smile. As if she would pay any attention to Ernie with Bill around.
A band started to play, and Mr. Belmont stood up.
“Since the groom is still recovering from his injuries, I have the honor of taking the first dance with my daughter.” The guests applauded as he led Rory to the dance floor with a wide grin.
Rory beamed as they danced a stately waltz.
It was heartwarming to see a father and daughter so happy together.
Ann’s father had passed when she was fifteen, so her uncle had walked her down the aisle. What would it have been like to have her father there? No, it was better not to think about it. That was an old grief that she didn’t want to reopen on such a lovely night.
Bill’s arm tightened around Ann. Heavens, that felt good!
She leaned against him, savoring his warmth.
How did he know so well what she needed in the moment?
It was so tempting to give in to the affection and stability he offered.
It would have been so easy to settle into his embrace and never leave.
But it wouldn’t have been fair. Her heart still overflowed with grief and had very little room for anything else.
Still, this was a magical night, and she could almost forget her sorrows in his arms. And she had promised to let go for just this one night.
As the music wound to a close, other couples rose to join. Bill stirred beside her, letting his arm drop.
“At last. This is what I’ve been waiting for. May I have the honor?” He offered his hand to Ann.
“Of course,” she answered, filled with butterflies at the prospect of dancing with him again.
They took to the floor for a foxtrot, and she relished the feeling of his arm around her, his chest nearly touching her own. “You were very quiet during dinner,” he murmured in her ear. “Were you regretting what you said about tonight?”
Yes. No. She didn’t know. “What makes you think that?”
He held her closer and met her gaze. “Do you?”
If only there was a simple answer to that question. But she wanted a night to forget her woes—needed it. She had struggled for so long. Was it so very wrong for her to live a little? The music buoyed them across the dance floor in a sea of other couples.
“No,” she said at last.
“That took far too much thought. I assure you that just because I am being attentive, that doesn’t mean I cease to be a gentleman. You have nothing to fear from me.”
“It’s not you I’m afraid of,” she said before she could stop herself. “I mean…that is…”
Oh, bother! Why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut?
“Do you care for me, Mrs. Prince?” He maneuvered them around a cluster of couples.
Her cheeks heated as she fumbled for a response, but there was no hiding from the truth, not with him gazing into her eyes with so much hope and adoration. “I would have thought that was rather clear by now.”