Chapter 11

CHAPTER11

“‘I’ll save you a dance.’ ‘I’ll save you a dance?’” Lewis snapped down the newspaper he’d been pretending to read while the shoeshine boys worked at his and Giovani’s feet. Giovani was notoriously particular about the condition of his Italian leather boots. Lewis stared at him even while his outburst provoked curious looks from several passersby in the lobby. “Can you believe that is what she said? When I was in the process of pouring my heart out?”

Giovani met Lewis’s eyes over his notebook—the one in which he kept careful records about his performances. “Were you pouring out your heart? Or your gratefulness to her father? Because from what you have told me—”

“Does it matter? It’s all tied together. I think I even said something inane about destiny or fate.” Lewis huffed at his own naiveté.

“Still, she could have taken your invitation as discharging a duty.” Giovani resorted to a tone of exaggerated patience. “Don’t take this wrong, but at times, the benevolent manner you sometimes assume can imply that you are doing someone a favor.”

“How could that be the case when I made it clear her father did me the favor? No.” Lewis shook his head. “I thought Ellie was different because of the way she acted with Cora, but the first time I indicated romantic interest, she fled.” He raised the Wall Street Journal again.

Giovani sighed. He tapped his pencil against his notebook.

“What?”

“It is hard for you to see, never having come from a position of disadvantage…” Giovani’s hesitant prelude hooked Lewis.

“To see what?”

“When a person has long been overlooked, cast aside, treated second class, one comes to expect that is always the attitude of one’s betters.”

“But Ellie is my equal in birth, intelligence, and education.” Even as he said it, his gut twisted.

Giovani firmed his lips. “Perhaps, yet in every other way, society considers her beneath you. Maybe she considers herself beneath you.”

The swish of brushes on leather and the pungent scent of polish filled the silence. Memories of Lewis’s own ire at Ellie’s mistreatment by family and friends resurfaced.

“I tried to tell her, Gi, there was more to my invitation.”

“Then you must try again. And with better words.”

Lewis folded his paper and stared unseeingly at the people in the lobby. Did he dare assume Ellie’s rejection the night before wasn’t a rejection of him and Cora, but that it stemmed from her own insecurities? Hadn’t he made his pleasure in their continued acquaintance plain?

Suddenly, he sat up straight. “There she is.” His gaze fixed on Ellie and Ada as they crossed the lobby toward the west lounge. As if Ellie heard him, she looked over her shoulder, met his eyes for a fraction of a second, and then tugged Ada through the French doors.

Giovani gestured. “Well, go.”

He hesitated. He’d never before chased after a woman.

“The ball is in two days. Go!” Giovani nearly shoved him.

Lewis pulled his leg away from the shoeshine boy and, handing him a bill, hop-skipped down from the elevated chair. The women had disappeared by the time he made it to the lounge. A quick scan of the long narrow room with its floral wallpaper and glazed windows overlooking the veranda revealed only Ada, seated in a wicker chair near the white radiator. His heart sank, but she acknowledged him with a welcoming smile as he requested to sit next to her.

“Of course. I’m sorry, you just missed Ellie. She had to powder her nose.”

“She’s avoiding me, isn’t she?”

Ada picked at her lace-trimmed sailor collar. “Why, I don’t—”

“Miss Ada, I usually find that directness, while humbling, serves best.”

She sighed. “She has some notion that you asked her to the ball out of a sense of charity.”

“Nothing could be further from the truth.”

“So you do like her?” Ada brightened.

“I have never met a woman who shares my curiosities in life, nor one who has treated Cora so well. Yet I seem to have offended her in some way.” Sitting on the edge of his chair, Lewis opened his hands.

“Broken hearts search hard for offense, Mr. Thornton.”

“Broken hearts?” He cocked his head.

“This is just between us, but there was once a man who pretended to court Ellie only to spy on my father. Turns out, he was employed by a competitor.” Ada’s mouth twisted as the arrow of her words pierced Lewis’s chest. “Ever since, Ellie has worn her suspicions on her sleeve. She is convinced everyone scorns her as the poor relation. If she thinks your interest in her could be explained in any other way…”

“Ah.” So Giovani had been right, but it went further than he’d believed. And much closer to home. “Do you think you might convince her to give me a chance?”

Ada smiled and leaned forward. “I will try, but you must be persistent.”

“And so must you.”

“Pardon me?” She raised a dark brow.

“I have news for you.” Lewis scooted closer so that he could whisper in her ear. “The golfing match went as planned. Jesse charmed Mr. Mellon and impressed him with his plans for full-service gasoline stations. Mellon asked for him to submit the details in writing.”

Ada sucked in a breath. “So he will meet with him?”

“They’ve set a date when they return to Pittsburgh for Jesse to present before Mellon’s board.”

Ada’s squeal and impulsive hug nearly knocked Lewis from his chair. When she withdrew, he patted her hand. “Jesse also plans to ask for an audience with your father, to update him on his future plans and request that he escort you to the ball.”

Her hand flew over her mouth, her eyes rounding. “Oh, Mr. Thornton.”

Lewis chuckled. “You’d best soften him up. And divert your mother when Jesse calls.”

“I will. Thank you. Thank you so much.” She grabbed his hand with both of hers and squeezed.

“You have Jesse’s determination to thank. I was only a conduit.” Glancing around to ensure their exchange had not drawn undue attention, his gaze snagged on a slight form standing in the doorway.

Ellie held her hand to her heart before turning and darting away—misunderstanding, yet again.

* * *

“Ellie, will you please wait up? It’s not as though we aren’t going to the same place.”

Ellie didn’t break her stride down the second-floor corridor for her cousin’s pleading tone. “Yes, but I’m going to get there first.”

“Will you let me explain? It’s not how it appeared.”

“Boy, have I heard that before.”

“Wait.” Ada snatched her arm. “Lewis is not Will. And he was not flirting with me. He was telling me Jesse got an audience with Mellon and plans to try again with Father.”

Ellie turned and searched Ada’s face, finding only genuineness. “That’s wonderful.”

“Yes. Thanks to Lewis. Will you hear him out? I believe his intentions for you are as sincere as Jesse’s for me.”

“Let’s be honest, Ada. The odds might be against Jesse, but with leverage from Mellon, he stands a chance. I don’t have any ace up my sleeve. There is no reason Lewis would hold genuine interest in me. He’s just unaccustomed to not getting what he wants.”

“Really?” Ada’s look of profound sadness brought back the sense of shame. “Do you think so poorly of yourself, truly? Because that is not what Lewis says he sees. You think I’m a match for him. I’m not. I’m not smart enough, interesting enough. But you are.”

“No, you’re not, if you think smart is enough to satisfy such a man.” Ellie regretted the words the minute they left her mouth. The light fading from Ada’s eyes indicated they’d found their mark. “Ada, I’m—”

A scream from inside the Hastings suite tore through Ellie’s apology. Ada turned and hurtled toward the door. Ellie tumbled into the sitting room after her. Aunt Florence stood in the dressing room, Gertrude beside her, the safe open.

“Mother, what is it?” Ada demanded.

Aunt Florence turned a mottled face toward them. “My necklace—I was going to wear it to dinner tonight to invite donations for the hospital fund. It’s gone!”

Adam and Maeve hurried into the small chamber, though Maeve slunk back against the hanging clothes.

“Are you certain?” The valet bent over the safe, searching inside. “I just saw it in here. Perhaps it was merely moved.”

“I know what is and isn’t in that safe.” Gertrude elevated her nose.

Adam retreated, his complexion going white.

“You just saw it, did you?” Aunt Florence narrowed her eyes. “When was that?”

“A couple days ago…maybe a few.”

“A few, now, hmm? And yet, only the two of you have the combination.” Aunt Florence looked between Adam and Gertrude.

Maeve snuck a glance in Ellie’s direction, but Ellie clamped down on her lower lip. She wouldn’t throw the girl to the wolf that way—at least, not yet.

“Ellie?”

She jumped. “Yes, aunt?”

Aunt Florence gestured her closer. Her hand latched onto Ellie’s arm. “Your detective skills are needed again. I want you to question everyone who’s had access to this room over the past week, even those who are not supposed to have the combination. You will get to the bottom of this, and this necklace will be found. Do you understand?”

As usual, did she have a choice but to comply? “Yes ma’am.”

Ellie refused to meet Maeve’s terrified gaze. Given what Ellie knew, she might be the obvious suspect, but Aunt Florence’s directive had brought about another, equally unsettling possibility. Someone else had accessed the dressing room during the past week…someone who might not even need a combination.