Chapter 41
GRACE
Grace couldn’t hold back her smile as she rushed from the dining room to the kitchen, giving orders, and checking the table arrangement for the dozenth time.
The guests were arriving for dinner one by one.
Mr. Brodia and his right-hand man came first.
“The Bankees,” Drasko had informed her beforehand, to her shock, though the gangsters, to her delight, were dressed with utmost style.
He had told Grace he had grown up with Zeph Brodia on the streets, and Grace instantly took to the man who had known her husband the way no other person in the world did.
Rivka came, donning one of her beautiful handmade dresses, Mr. Brodia right away weaving his charms around her.
Julien was dazzling and elegant in a blue three-piece suit.
“Am I allowed to kiss your wife’s hand?” he addressed Drasko with feigned trepidation, making both Grace and Drasko chuckle.
Elias Bayne arrived with another couple.
“His cousin, who married a banker from America. They are visiting,” Drasko explained to Grace in a concealed mutter.
“Elias!” She had liked the man instantly when she met him at the Mawr building.
“Grace.” He beamed at her with a grin that was like sunshine on a cold day.
Elias was tall and muscled, just like Drasko.
He did not come across as a man of leisure.
Nevertheless, his immaculate three-piece suit indicated a man of wealth.
While Drasko was reserved but powerful in his silence, his mere presence in the room drawing inquisitive stares, Elias was free and open in his manners, generous with laughter, and was in a true sense a man of the world.
It was no wonder that only minutes later, Julien’s blue eyes were on him, wide with admiration.
“My lawyer, Mr. Lennard,” Drasko introduced another arrival to Grace.
One of his managers came. An architect, “the genius behind the Mawr Building.” A jeweler from Asia attended.
Drasko introduced her to them one by one, a company so mismatched, yet when Grace stepped into the drawing room to check on them, they all looked at ease, smoking, drinking, laughing.
Among them were Julien and Rivka, her favorite people. Tears sprung to her eyes at the sight, and she flitted out of the room to calm herself.
“Darling?” Drasko caught up with her in the hallway and took her hands in his, his worried eyes on her. “What is the matter?”
“Nothing.” She smiled through tears. “I… I simply want it to be perfect. I…”
She tried to walk away, but he wouldn’t let her go. “Darling?”
“This is the first dinner at our house and…”
A lump in her throat swallowed her words. She tried to turn, but Drasko caught her by her shoulders.
“Grace, look at me, please.” She lifted her eyes to meet his, worried and caring. “What is it?”
“I have never had a dinner party with my friends. At the Sommervilles’, my friends were never allowed. Julien was never invited. Never have I…” She sucked in a breath, willing herself not to cry. That would be embarrassing to say the least.
His fingers tipped her chin, the green abyss of his eyes taking her in.
“It’s already quite perfect with you here.” He smiled that calming smile that made her worries wash off that very instant. “Now, leave everything to the servants and, please, join me with the guests.”
She nodded, her heart suddenly too big for her chest. “Yes.”
“Grace?” She lifted her eyes to his again. “You can have whoever you want for dinner any time. And your friends are always welcome.”
She nodded again. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He kissed her on the forehead, and her heart hummed happily as she stepped into the drawing room by his side.
“What is this contraption, Mr. Mawr?” the lawyer inquired, pointing at a device that stood like a monstrous machine on a small, wooden table. “You always have the most peculiar things in your house.”
“A phonograph,” Drasko said. “Invented by Mr. Thomas Edison.”
“Explain?”
“I will show you!”
He walked up to the device, cranked the handle that started rotating a peculiar cylinder attached to a needle, and music poured out of it.
“I have seen this machine at the science exposition!” the jeweler exclaimed as the guests gathered around the device.
“Indeed. They can record too,” Drasko said.
“Oh, do we get to hear your voice?”
“You get to hear my wife playing.”
The guests exploded in a heated discussion.
If there was one truth Grace was willing to accept tonight, it was that she felt more alive than ever when Drasko was around.
His smile at her was often seductive, his rare laughter contagious.
His voice floated above all others. His gaze found her amidst a dozen people, even when they were in different parts of the room. It made her heart flutter.
And when he was out of the room if only for a moment, her heart was already calling for him to come back as if an invisible thread connected them.
She was feeling so much for him and was finally accepting it.
“You look beautiful, Mrs. Mawr,” Zeph Brodia complimented as he came over to chat with her.
“It is so very nice to meet you,” Grace said, omitting what she’d heard about him.
“Your friend…” Mr. Brodia cleared his throat, glancing at Rivka, who talked to the lawyer. “Who is she?”
“Are you interested in my friend, Mr. Brodia?”
“Why, simply inquiring. I think I have heard of her before.”
“She is a healer.”
“Ah! So I was right.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Your husband told me about her.”
“Oh?” So Drasko discussed her with his friends—Grace swelled with pride.
“I know several people who are familiar with her healing practices and one who…”
“Who?”
Mr. Brodia leaned in as if he was sharing a secret. “Who had a fortune read by her.”
“Do you believe in such things, Mr. Brodia?” Grace smiled broadly, not knowing if it was judgment or curiosity in his inquiry.
“I am intrigued. I gathered by her name that it was her. But when I heard the stories before, I imagined… well, I suppose when you hear the word “healer,” childhood tales about witches and old unattractive recluses come to mind.”
Grace laughed. “I see. And Miss Rebecca doesn’t fit the description. Why don’t you ask her yourself?”
Mr. Brodia was distracted by Elias. But Grace noticed Mr. Brodia following Rivka with his gaze as she made her way to Grace.
“How are you, my lovely?” Rivka asked as she and Grace observed the guests. “It’s a wonderful company.”
Indeed. This was the humblest party Grace had attended. There was no doubt that Drasko somehow managed to put everyone at ease. Or perhaps, the people he kept close were worldly and open-minded while Grace was used to circles with strict etiquette, rigid formalities, and outdated ideas about power.
“I am happy, Rivka. So truly happy.”
Grace’s chest tightened as she remembered her fears about her husband’s nature only months ago. The ache at being so unjust about him resonated with the dull pain in her abdomen. On instinct, she pressed her hand to it.
“The pain is coming back,” she said quietly.
Rivka’s worried eyes snapped to Grace. “When?”
“Just a day or two. It is mild, very minimal. I hope it doesn’t grow into a monster.” She flinched at the words.
“The last healing session was hard on you, Gracie. It will take time, perhaps several more years for the pain to go away completely. It will, my lovely.”
Grace nodded. She caught Rivka’s cautious glances at Mr. Brodia. “What is it? Do you know him?” Grace whispered.
“It’s nothing.” Rivka waved her off.
“Liar. He said he had heard of you. Mr. Brodia!” Grace called out to him, beckoning him to approach. “Will you tell us more about what sort of work you do?”
And she was puzzled by how Rivka, always confident, seemed uneasy next to him, her posture rigid in his presence.
He didn’t look at Grace this time, only at Rivka. “Miss Rebecca, what does a beautiful woman such as yourself occupy herself with?”
“You know what I do, Mr. Brodia. My grandfather and I own a drug store,” she replied.
“And you do healings,” he probed.
“Yes.”
Mr. Brodia smiled charmingly, his eyes never leaving Rivka. “I might be in need of healing myself.”
“Hmm.” Rivka visibly stiffened. “For what, may I ask?”
“My heart, you see. Broken, lonely, and in need of being in good hands.”
Grace stifled a chuckle. That was certainly a very direct, if not inappropriate, comment.
But Rivka’s smile faded as she locked her eyes with the man. “In a different part of town, certain establishments cure that very quickly. Overnight, in fact. And the good thing is that you can do it every night, Mr. Brodia, with a different healer, if you know what I mean.”
Grace inhaled sharply at this brazen remark.
Mr. Brodia didn’t respond.
Rivka excused herself.
Grace touched his shoulder. “I apologize, Mr. Brodia. Miss Rebecca is never?—”
“She is right, Mrs. Mawr,” he cut her off and gulped the rest of his brandy. “She is absolutely right. Except, many of us, after years of searching, find the one healer we stick to.”
He winked at Grace and excused himself.