Chapter 12

Twelve

Moore

I resisted the urge to glance at my pocket watch. The tedium of this dinner was nearly unbearable. There was only one place I wished to be—and it wasn't in the main dining room at Sherry's.

Rose's town house had become my second home. I spent every night with her, then rose early to return home and dress for work. This week has been the best of my life. Rose and I were perfectly suited, our interests and preferences aligned. She was smart, funny, and bold. I felt lighter in her presence, then rejuvenated afterward, like she was a dry cell battery for my spirit. I don't know how I'd endured the last thirty-eight years without her.

"Did you hear me, Emerson?"

Clearing my throat, I forced my attention off thoughts of Rose and back to Whitney-Dunn, who'd requested this dinner. He expected me to admit to not listening, but I could pay attention and long for Rose at the same time. I'd been doing it for a month, after all.

"For god's sake, do not buy silver," I said immediately. "We're still attempting to recover from the devaluation last year."

Whitney-Dunn wiped his mustache delicately with the serviette. "May I speak plainly?"

"Of course. I like to think we've always done so with one another."

"Indeed, we have." He folded his hands and stared at me directly. "I relayed your feelings to the board several nights ago. They are displeased."

"Oh? I wasn't aware of any board meeting."

He waved his hand, as if this was unimportant. "It wasn't official, but most of us happened to linger at the Union Club."

Happened to linger? I didn't buy it for a second. "And what was discussed without the board president in attendance?"

"Now, there's no need to be prickly with me, Moore. I've known you since you were born, your father long before that. Everyone has your best interests at heart."

Wrong. This was about the best interests of the company. "This is about your daughter."

"I want to hear your objections to the match."

Doubtful. More like he wished to argue with me and browbeat me into doing as he wished. Indeed, I was not easily browbeat these days. "I am not a child, Harold. I won't be badgered into another marriage."

"Moore," he said, heaving a sigh. "The business with Eugenia was a long time ago. The trial may have been unpleasant for a few months, but you have an obligation to your shareholders and clients."

Unpleasant? Try humiliating to my very bones. And it hadn't been months—it had been years.

But to be clear, this wasn't about any obligation. Whitney-Dunn wished to gain a foothold in Emerson Holdings through his daughter. As my wife's father, Harold would have a greater influence, possibly even force me out.

I wouldn't have it.

Leaning in, I met his steely gaze with one of my own. "My obligation is to myself first and foremost. The shareholders and clients are in good hands. I've never failed them, nor do I intend to do so in the future."

The silence stretched and Whitney-Dunn's frown deepened. Relaxing, I sipped my drink and waited for him to continue or drop the subject.

Finally, he said, "Moore, there is talk."

The muscles behind my shoulder blades tightened. Memories of whispers and stares still haunted me. "Regarding?"

"An actress. Living in a town house you paid for."

I shouldn't have been surprised, yet I was. How had this become known? While I hadn't tried to hide the presence of a woman in my life—a man sleeping out night after night tended to mean only one thing—the details behind my arrangement with Rose were private.

There was only one answer. "Are you having me investigated?"

Whitney-Dunn crooked one eyebrow at me. "A very young actress, I might add."

I ground my back teeth together, furious. "I don't care for what you are implying, Harold. Miss O'Donahue is of legal age. Furthermore, nearly every man we know has a mistress. Why is this worth remarking upon?"

"Because it's unusual for you. It speaks to a concerning level of commitment, one that doesn't reflect well on you or the business."

I took a healthy swig of whiskey, letting the burn slide all the way to my stomach, steadying me. "This is coming from the board, I suppose, all of whom are faithful to their wives."

"Now, there's no reason for such maliciousness. The board is concerned that with mistresses and actresses come . . ." He waved his hand. "Extravagance."

I let out a huff of outraged disbelief and rubbed my eyes. Now they were calling into question my integrity? "No doubt you are stoking their worst fears."

"Why would I do such a thing when the obvious solution is right before our very eyes?"

Marrying his daughter .

Fucking hell.

"A solution that benefits you above anyone else."

He held up his hands, placating me. "I cannot pretend to hate the idea of having my grandchildren inherit Emerson Holdings. And no one is telling you to break things off with this actress. My daughter will make you an excellent wife, Moore. Gladys will look the other way to your private life."

Immoral .

Adulterer .

Scoundrel .

The words from the trial haunted me. I couldn't escape them, no matter how hard I tried. Was this what everyone expected of me?

"I would honor my vows," I snapped, "should I ever be stupid enough to repeat them again. But the whole notion is absurd. Gladys has as little interest in marriage as I do."

"Gladys will do as she's told. We must maintain our class and standing. The undesirables flood our streets by the thousands every day, and we must protect our way of life or see it disappear. Your mother understands this, as does the board. It's your responsibility to ensure the future generation, to secure the legacy of the company."

"Do not lecture me about responsibility," I gritted out from behind clenched teeth. "I have given everything I have to the business since the day my father died."

"That was around the time of the scandal, was it not?" Whitney-Dunn angled in his chair, crossing his legs. He toyed with his crystal tumbler on the white tablecloth. "His heart seemed fine before the trial. A strange coincidence, wouldn't you say?"

My mouth dried out. The pain in my chest grew sharp and precise, like an arrow to my sternum. "I should punch you for making such an outrageous suggestion."

"But you've wondered about it, haven't you? I can see it on your face. Any son with half a heart would consider the possibility."

Of course I had. Whether or not the trial was responsible, the stress of that circus couldn't have done my father's heart any favors.

But Whitney-Dunn wasn't finished.

"A man of your age," he insisted, "should be settled, growing a family. Instead, you're spending nearly every night with a nineteen-year-old actress. Wouldn't you like to ease your mother's worries? She is getting older, her health not what it once was. Think of what another Emerson scandal might do to her." He paused. "Or worse. Think about what losing the company would do to her."

Now it was clear he was having me followed, goddamn it.

"The only one concerned about my whereabouts is you," I forced out, pleased with how even my voice sounded despite my growing rage. "And I don't appreciate your threats."

"These are not threats, I assure you. This marriage will happen, because I'll stop at nothing, absolutely nothing, to see it through. No matter how many theater owners I need to pay off and board members I need to bribe."

Theater owners? I knew he was exerting influence—through either intimidation or bribes—over the board, but the comment about paying off theater owners made no sense. "Why would you involve yourself with theater owners?"

"Because I want you to know what I'm willing to do. Your ladybird will have a hard time finding another production willing to hire her, if you don't agree to marry Gladys."

The abrupt closing of Rose's last show. Christ, I couldn't believe it. "You had no right to interfere in such an underhanded and malicious way."

"I'm trying to help you!" He smacked his palm on the table, rattling the china and glassware, as well as attracting attention from our neighbors. "Your mother isn't well, and you're gallivanting around the city with a girl young enough to be your daughter. Wise up, Emerson!"

Everything around me slowed to a crawl, my vision tunneling to Whitney-Dunn's face. "What did you say?"

He grimaced and avoided my eyes. "Which part?"

"About my mother's health. What isn't she telling me, Harold?"

Tapping his fingers on the tablecloth, Whitney-Dunn sighed. "I promised her I wouldn't say anything. She doesn't want you to know."

"Except you did tell me, so now I need to hear all of it." Scenarios bounced around in my brain, each one worse than the last. I didn't want to lose her, either. "Is it her heart? Her breathing? Cancer?"

"It's her heart," Whitney-Dunn confirmed. "She's getting lightheaded and there is some irregularity in the rhythm of her heartbeat."

My chest caved in, my lungs unable to draw in air. Was Whitney-Dunn lying to me? It had seemed a genuine slip of the tongue, but one could never know.

Then I remembered our exchange the night she waited up for me.

What happens after I'm no longer here?

That's twice you've mentioned your death. What aren't you telling me?

Swallowing my panic, I vowed to follow up with my mother's physician at my earliest opportunity. As soon as I left this restaurant. I knew where Dr. Fritz lived. He was also my physician.

"It's to be expected at her age," Whitney-Dunn said. "But the doctors have advised her to rest and not overtax herself. That includes outside stressors, I would imagine. Perhaps like a son embroiled in a second public scandal."

"Then I'll sever my relationship with Miss O'Donahue." Or at the very least, I'd carry on discreetly. "Which would solve the problem."

"Certainly you can, but it won't affect a marriage to my daughter. I don't care if you carry on with that actress tart or not. You will marry Gladys before the year is out, Moore. Or I'll strip that company away from you, even if it puts your mother in an early grave."

Shocked, I stared at this man. "You were my father's close friend. How can you hurt his wife, his family like this?"

"I am trying to make you see reason, for Christ's sake. Gladys will be a good wife. The two of you will produce heirs to take over Emerson Holdings, and you may live your life outside of that however you see fit. Your actress can continue to work, and your mother will continue on until her dotage, untouched by scandal. How is this hurting anyone?"

The patrons in the dining room blurred before my eyes to a pale watercolor of conformity and obligation. I felt backed into a corner, a narrow confined space of Whitney-Dunn's making. I didn't want to agree, but I couldn't see a way out. A refusal to marry, though reasonable, would harm the two most important women in my life. How could I sacrifice both my mother and Rose on the altar of my stubbornness? Whitney-Dunn held all the power between us, and I couldn't risk my mother's health through a scandal or losing the company.

And Rose . . . She'd never forgive me if I were the reason she couldn't find work in this city. She would move away to Boston or Philadelphia. Worse, maybe she'd go as far as Chicago. Though we hadn't officially slept together, it was only a matter of time before I convinced her. I couldn't lose her, not now. Perhaps not ever.

Still, the agreement for the marriage wouldn't come. The words were stuck in my throat.

When I couldn't stall any longer, I finished the rest of my drink and set the tumbler on the table. "We'll reconvene after I speak with my mother's physician. If what you've said is true, I'll call on Gladys." Tossing my serviette onto the table, I pushed my chair back and stood. "However, if I find out you've lied to me, there isn't a hole small enough in which to hide, Harold. I'll bury you."

"Noted." Whitney-Dunn already appeared pleased with himself, hands folded over his stomach, a broad smile on his face. "I'm proud of you for doing the right thing, Moore."

I didn't bother responding or shaking his hand. I crossed the floor and departed the dining room swiftly. I needed to be far, far away from Whitney-Dunn and this restaurant. Indeed, there was only one place I wished to be at the moment.

And it wasn't at home.