Chapter 24
Before seven the next morning, Blade nodded at the pint-sized maid who dusted the banister of the grand staircase. He stepped into his parents’ dining room and was startled to see his brother sitting alone at the long, formally-set table. Out of sixteen comfortable chairs, Jared occupied the one that had traditionally been his, the elder son.
Squelching a stab of sibling indignation, he headed to the sideboard and poured coffee from the familiar silver server into an unfamiliar china cup. “Hello, Jared,” he said neutrally.
His brother quickly capped a silver liquor flask and tucked it inside his gray business suit jacket. The earpieces of his horn-rimmed glasses pressed into his temples. His eyes showed no spark of youthful combativeness. “Corinda said you were back. How are you?”
“Good. How’s the family?”
“Patrick’s growing like a weed. Dreams of pitching for the Maroons. Natalie takes violin and dance lessons.”
“And, Candy?”
His brother gave his coffee cup saucer a slight shove. Creamed liquid sloshed over the rim. “Oh, she’s the same. Hates getting up in the morning.”
A deep voice sounded in the doorway. “Spends money like we have a printing press in the basement.” His father’s thick silver hair gleamed in the light of a sconce.
His mother pushed past like a bull dog on patrol. “No talk like that this morning,” she ordered. “Blade brought a guest.”
“Two guests,” Blade said. “Mouse left to run an errand. Mary’s checking on Stormy now. So, how’s the banking business?”
“I’m glad you asked.” His father slid a file stamped Prospectus toward him. “Telephone service connecting businesses and houses in St. Louis. All the cities back east are doing it.”
“Sounds like a good idea.” Blade sat next to Jared and scanned the papers. “I’d like to be able to talk to someone and hear their response.”
“Here’s another idea,” his father said. “Electrification sites. We’re thinking of investing in a generating plant.”
Jared waved at the battery of gas-fired sconces on the walls. “The return could be phenomenal. Pull a cord. Light up a room.”
“I’d be careful in here.” Stormy entered the room. “Wallpaper can dry out and catch fire if it’s too close to hot current wires.”
Blade’s chest swelled with pride. His bold, brash fiancée looked stunning in the calf-length, orange-yellow morning dress he’d bought for her in Kansas City. She’d also just demonstrated how well read she was.
Jared whistled under his breath. “Is she—”
“She’s mine,” Blade whispered back. He stood and pulled out the chair to his right.
When Stormy was seated, he reached for her hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. “Stormy, this is my brother, Jared.”
The door to the kitchen swung open. A maid carried in the first course of breakfast, halved green nutmeg melon.
As he chewed bites of the spicy sweet fruit, Blade silently reviewed his plan for the day. He’d negotiate his buy-out in his father’s office at the bank. Mouse was hunting for Edward Peabody. The only loose end was keeping Stormy safe.
He looked up. “What are you lovely ladies going to do today?”
“We have invitations.” His mother lifted embossed cards from a small silver tray. “Lady Epriam Dooms. Mr. Charles Vanderfield. Mrs. Audrey Fricke. Emily Llewellyn. I expect more will arrive soon. Everyone wants to meet Miss Ophelia.”
Stormy blanched.
He knew traipsing from parlor to parlor, meeting snooty strangers, was the last thing she wanted to do, but she’d be chaperoned the entire way, and therefore safe. He’d make it up to her. “Mary will go along?”
“Of course,” his mother said. “So will I.”
“Then, it sounds delightful.” He folded his napkin and scooted back his chair. “I think I’ll visit my office at the bank.”
“You’re not coming with us?” Stormy asked plaintively.
“I told Mr. Ewins I’d inspect his annual report.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “Play along,” he whispered in her ear, “until we find Edward Peabody.”
Eyes wide, she nodded, though she still appeared most unhappy. “I wish I could go with you.”
“So do I.”
~ ~ ~
Blade took the carpeted steps inside the Masters Investment and Trust three at a time and opened the door to his office. Mountains of reports smothered his desk, the windowsill, and the sofa that had always been too uncomfortable for napping.
He was almost tempted to give the sofa another try. He hadn’t gotten much shut-eye last night. After hearing all about Mary’s beau, he’d wandered through his parents’ house, worrying until the big grandfather clock chimed six.
Jared rapped softly on the open office door and entered. “Fess up. Where did you find her?”
“Stormy? On a ranch near a town you never heard of.”
“You always did like redheads.”
“And, you liked blondes.”
“How well do you know her?”
Blade stared, trying to discern what his brother really meant. “If you’re hinting that she’s out for money, I can assure you, she’s not. She’s an only child, set to inherit a thousand acres of prime farmland. Stormy loves—” He stopped short. “Are you saying she will regret marrying me?”
Jared’s face lost all its color. He shut the door and shifted stacks of papers on the couch until he cleared enough space to sit. Dust soared into the air and sparkled in the sunlight that flowed through the picture window overlooking St. Louis’ busy harbor. He folded and refolded his hands. “Candace regrets marrying me.”
Blade muffled his gasp. Jared never liked to admit anything.
“We haven’t slept together since Natalie was born.” Jared buried his face in his hands. “She says I’m not man enough anymore.”
Blade’s long-held anger at his brother lost its razor’s edge. A few months ago, he would have feasted on this confession. Now, it only made him feel guilty. He’d introduced Candy to his family.
He crossed the room and set an apologetic hand on his brother’s shoulder. Candy didn’t love Jared any more than she’d loved him. She was a gold digger, out only for herself.
But, why bar his brother from her bed? What did she stand to gain by destroying Jared’s confidence? She had to have her eye on some bigger prize.
His mind whirled with possibilities. Candy was shrewd and ruthless.
As soon as Jared’s shoulders stopped shaking, Blade marched into his father’s office.
Sam Masters sat behind his imposing desk, set with the big Tiffany lamp, teak humidor, and incongruous dime store calendar. Eyes narrowing, his father halted his dictation mid-sentence and calmly dismissed Mrs. Corso, his gray-haired secretary.
Blade locked the door behind her and spun around. “What kind of mother is Candy?”
His father thumbed through some papers. “Absentee. She spends most of her time gallivanting. Jared focuses on Patrick and Natalie when he’s not working. His only vice is cocktails before dinner.”
“I caught him lacing his coffee this morning.”
“I’ve never noticed that.”
Blade exploded like an overheated boiler. “You never gave a damn about me. I learned to live with it, but Jared deserves a whole lot more than a nod and a paycheck. He’s hurting right now, and Candy is the reason.”
“Now wait just a—” His father pushed heatedly out of his high-back leather chair. “How would you know? You haven’t been home in years.”
“He just told me.”
Sam’s head jerked as if he’d been punched in the jaw. He deflated and dropped back onto his chair. “You’ve always seen through me, haven’t you, Blade? From the time you were young, I could see it in your eyes. You weren’t in awe of me, and you weren’t afraid. I could tell you didn’t want to be anything like me, but in so many ways you are.”
“Is that why you were so hard on me?”
“I thought I could force—” Sam reached for the russet silk handkerchief in his breast pocket. “I thought you’d come to me for approval. Instead you ran off and became your own man. When you returned from the river, I was afraid anything I said or did would chase you away again.”
The silence grew awkward as his father blotted his eyes. Sam had never spoken like this before, open and honest. Father to son. Man to man.
Blade blew out a slow breath and silently accepted his father’s confession. “We have a bigger problem. Patrick and Natalie might not be safe.”
“Safe? Why wouldn’t they be safe?”
“The story’s a bit complicated.” Blade described the day he rode into Prosperity and witnessed Stormy’s confrontation with Vance. He explained why Zed Hawkins had mortgaged the ranch. How Vance had tried to call their note in early. His arrangement with Purdy to watch out for telegrams mentioning his family’s name. Peabody’s detailed report about the children and their activities.
Sam wadded his handkerchief into a ball. His face turned indignant red. “Who the hell does this Vance think he is? Doesn’t he know who we are?"
“He does now.”
“How did he learn you were from St. Louis?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet.”
His father brooded for a minute. “Vance wants more than Stormy. He wants her land, and you’re standing in his way.”
“That’s why I’m concerned about the children. I wouldn’t put it past Vance to hire Peabody to snatch them. Demand that I break off my engagement to Stormy in exchange for the children’s safe return.”
“Would Vance go that far?”
“I refuse to take that chance. How well does Jared screen his servants?”
“Background check with the police, personal interviews with references. I’ll double their salaries as a precaution against bribes, and bring in a plainclothes servant who’ll report directly to me. Should we tell Jared?”
“Not yet. I’ll come up with a plan that lets him reclaim his pride.” Blade put his feet up on his father’s desk. Sam had always hated when he did that.
Impassively, Sam opened his humidor, pulled out a cigar, and held it out.
Blade shook his head.
Sam clipped one end of the cigar and reached into his jacket pocket. Withdrawing a match, he leaned forward and struck it across the bottom of Blade’s boot. The tip of the match burst into flame. “Is Stormy pregnant?”
Blade didn’t flinch. He’d wondered the same thing. “It’s possible. I’d be happy if she was.”
After several puffs, his father said, “This Peabody fellow shouldn’t be too hard to find. Must hang a shingle somewhere.”
“My man, Mouse, is out looking for him right now.”
“Would this Mouse be able to take him?”
“Don’t let his name fool you. He’s a roustabout. Tall and massive, but all muscle. I trust him. Next item. Are you aware that Mary’s met the man she wants to marry?”
Sam doubled over in a fit of coughing.
“Dad?” Jared’s concerned voice punctuated his rattle of the doorknob. “Are you all right? Open up. The door’s locked.”
Blade hurried to turn the key and let his brother in. “The old man’s fine. He just learned Mary has a beau.”
“Who is he?” Sam sputtered. “Do we know his family?”
“Someone she met at Conservatory,” Blade said. “He sounds like a proper young man.”
“Why haven’t we met him?” Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “Olivia will have a fit.”
“Which might be why Mary hasn’t told you,” Jared said.
“Has she . . .” Sam looked sick to his stomach.
“No,” Blade assured him. “I grilled her for over an hour last night. He’s studying to be a lawyer. It might be a good idea to let her attend the summer session at Conservatory.” He shot his father a deliberate look. Be safely away while we deal with Peabody and Vance.
“Ah.” Sam nodded knowingly. “I’ll talk to your mother.”
“Good,” Blade and Jared said simultaneously. They glanced at each other and laughed like they used to do years ago, when they weren’t fighting.
“Blade, when’s your meeting?” their father asked.
“At two.”
Sam pulled out his pocket watch. “We have a few minutes. I’d like to hear your thoughts on the telephone proposal. Jared, you’ve studied the prospectus. Why don’t you give Blade an overview?” He leaned back in his chair, folded his hands on his chest and closed his eyes like a weary tutor. “Proceed.”