Duke of a Gilded Age (22 page)

“I think Mrs. Van Eyck must be extolling Cavendish’s virtues,” Belle whispered to Wesley.

Wesley chuckled. “Don’t tell the widows he also knits. He’ll receive five ardent declarations of love before nightfall.”

Practice began. The couples paired off as they had previously, but when Belle waltzed with Wesley, she savored it much more. Not only was he gaining in confidence, but also their friendship had established itself anew. After a good night’s sleep, she’d convinced herself she’d been overwrought the previous day, and that she was merely experiencing premarital jitters. As soon as she was reunited with Errol, she was certain her feelings for him would reassert themselves. In the meantime, she’d behave toward Wesley and Stephen in a circumspect manner.

After her reprimand, Stephen was also acting in a gentlemanly fashion—enough so that Belle’s guarded manner toward him thawed slightly. Stephen managed to incorporate even more style into his waltz, and Belle judged the dance club practice to be the best one yet.

During the midpoint break, Mrs. Hamm sat down at the piano to play
The Blue Danube Waltz
. Cavendish smiled at the remaining quartet of widows seated on the sidelines. “Could I persuade one of you ladies to dance with me?”

Four ladies rose. After a little awkwardness, the eldest widow prevailed and allowed Cavendish to escort her to the floor. Belle shot Wesley a pointed look. After a startled moment of dawning comprehension, he crossed over to a widow and asked her to dance. Annoyed at having been outdone, Stephen promptly persuaded one of the remaining ladies to join him on the floor. A subtle pinch from Stacy sent Horatio to rescue the last widow. Unaccountably cheerful, Carl leaned against the wall to watch.

“Mr. Stenger appears happy there are no more widows,” murmured Belle to Eva.

“The widows are most certainly relieved there’s only one Carl,” Eva replied.

“Wesley was so gallant just now,” Louise said. “He set a good example.”

“I agree, his behavior does him credit,” Belle said.

“My brother suspects Wesley is partial to me,” Louise murmured. “After all, he did ask me to practice with him yesterday before the meeting. What’s your opinion?”

A worm at the end of a hook could not have squirmed more. How was she to respond? Belle owed her allegiance to Errol, so if Wesley and Louise truly were developing an attachment, she ought not frustrate the relationship.

“Wesley has certainly been very cordial toward you,” she replied. “Any girl lucky enough to secure his good opinion will be quite fortunate, I think.”

Louise studied her a moment. “After the meeting, let’s talk about your fiancé.”

In the second half of the practice, the group began to learn the six parts of the quadrille. Mrs. Hamm kindly assisted on the piano so Cavendish and Belle could demonstrate the figures. Louise squealed when she nearly collided with her brother during a complicated maneuver.

“How will I ever remember the order of figures and which way to turn?” Louise exclaimed.

“Repetition, Miss Van Eyck,” Cavendish said.

“And if that fails, you can always feign an injury and decline to dance,” Stephen said.

Louise considered the idea. “That may work, actually.”

After the dance club was adjourned, the widows clustered around Cavendish to ask his opinions on music. Wesley stifled a smile as he took his leave. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to a late afternoon game of shovelboard with Mr. Ley.”

“I’m a fair shovelboard player myself,” Stephen said. “Carl, let’s you and I challenge Wesley and Mr. Ley to a game or two. Horatio, you can take bets should anyone wish to place a wager.”

“Er, I’m too young to gamble,” Horatio said. “Thanks for the invitation all the same.”

He loped up the stairs, followed by Wesley, Stephen, and Carl. The girls ascended to the saloon deck, where they discussed what to do until dinner. Eva planned to read a few pages of
Wuthering Heights
, while Stacy was going to write a letter.

“I promised Mama to write something in a letter each day about the voyage,” she said. “I’ll post it once we arrive in Liverpool.”

“By the way, are we playing cards tonight?” Eva asked.

“Yes, after dinner,” Belle said.

“We’ll see you later then,” Stacy said.

As the two sisters headed off, Louise laced her arm through Belle’s. “Now let’s go for a walk on the promenade deck. I want to hear about Sir Errol.”

Chapter Fifteen

Distress Call

W
ITH
T
HE
S
HORELINE
O
F
N
EWFOUNDLAND
in the distance, Belle and Louise strolled alongside the railing.

“Sir Errol Blankenship and I met at a large party in May,” Belle said. “He was newly arrived in town, and all the girls were mad for him. For some reason, he asked to be introduced to me.”

“Yes, but what do you like about the man?”

“Errol is very cultured, refined, and learned. He’s quite extraordinarily handsome, too.”

“What color are his eyes?”

“Hmm, I hadn’t thought about it before. They’re gray, I believe.” She paused to consider the matter. “Yes, I’m sure of it…his eyes are a bluish gray color.”

“Like Wesley’s?”

“Oh, no, Wesley’s eyes are brown…a lovely, warm brown like those of a fawn.”

“Let’s play a little game. What would you say Wesley’s best qualities are?” Louise asked.

Belle laughed. “I thought you wanted to talk about Errol! Let’s see…Wesley is tremendously funny, adventuresome, kind, and generous. He can also be very sweet, too, and thoughtful.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Louise said.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re in love with him.”

“Of course I’m in love with him! Errol and I are engaged.”

“Not Errol, you goose. Wesley.”

Belle’s skin prickled. “That isn’t true. It can’t be.”

“Of course it is. I asked you to describe Errol and you gave quite the most dispassionate details. Then, when you spoke of Wesley, your entire face glowed.”

“Louise, no. I simply
can’t
be in love with him.”

“How difficult is it to tell Errol you’ve changed your mind?”

“Since I’ve given my word, it’s impossible. Wesley and I are friends and that’s the end of it. Please, let’s don’t speak of this again.”

“As you wish, Annabelle, but it doesn’t change the facts. You’re in love with Wesley Parker, and I suspect he’s in love with you.”

Wesley and Mr. Ley won their first shovelboard game with Stephen and Carl, but lost the second. Stephen took every opportunity to crow about the victory. His poor sportsmanship set Wesley’s teeth on edge, but since the dinner hour was drawing near, there was no opportunity for a tie breaking game.

When Wesley entered his cabin to dress, his valet was nowhere to be found. Just as he was laying out a fresh change of clothes for himself, Cavendish burst into the cabin.

“Forgive my tardiness, sir. The widows were most persistent.”

“You’re a great favorite with the ladies, Cavendish. I wonder that you never married,” Wesley said.

A red flush stained Cavendish’s cheekbones. “I was engaged many years ago, but bungled things terribly. I thereafter vowed bachelorhood.”

“What happened to the lady, if I may ask?”

“With her considerable beauty and charm, I believe Miss Christianson must have married.” The valet’s usually cheerful energy became muted. “May I suggest we turn our attention to the task at hand? The dinner hour rapidly approaches.”

Wesley and his mother were again seated at the captain’s table that evening, but Captain Howe was absent. In his stead was a uniformed crewman whose wiry red hair, ginger whiskers, and accent revealed his Scottish heritage.

“Captain Howe sends his regrets, but he will much occupied on the bridge for the next twelve hours,” he said. “My name is Mr. Duncan, the Chief Officer.”

Mr. Ley seemed puzzled. “We’ve calm seas and splendid weather. Is something wrong?”

“Not in the least. We’ve entered the Grand Banks.”

“The Grand Banks is a fisherman’s paradise, from what I’ve heard,” Mr. Ley said.

“Yes, but after the Grand Banks we’ll be passing through the most treacherous waters in the Atlantic.” Mr. Duncan paused for dramatic effect. “
Iceberg Alley
.”

Mrs. Stenger blanched. “Iceberg Alley?”

“Aye. Pieces o’ ice break off the glaciers on the west coast of Greenland and drift south with the current into shipping lanes. It can be tricky to navigate through an ice field safely.”

“I’d like to see an iceberg,” Wesley said. “They must be magnificent.”

“Icebergs can be so astonishing and strange, I’ve oft wondered if God and the devil don’t take turns carving ’em,” Mr. Duncan replied. “I’ve seen mountains o’ ice as tall as the smokestacks on this ship, and so varied in shape, no two look alike.”

“You make them sound beautiful,” Wesley said.

“Beautiful, aye, but wicked dangerous. What shows on the surface is but a wee part o’ the mass, and therein lies the rub. Many a ship has skirted by an innocent-looking lump o’ ice, while the devil peels back her keel under water with his savage, wicked claws.”

“Mr. Duncan, all this talk of icebergs is making me uneasy,” Lady Frederic said.

“You need not be concerned overmuch, milady,” he said. “Most likely ’tis too late in the season for any real danger from ice.”

Lady Frederic relaxed. “That’s a relief.”

“Of course, nothing is for certain except uncertainty. And as Mr. Ley pointed out, there are many fishing vessels to be found in the Grand Banks. At almost twenty knots, the
City of New York
can’t be turned as if she were a mare. If one o’ these vessels should happen to cross our bow on a foggy night…well, I need say no more,” Mr. Duncan said.

Lady Frederic exchanged an alarmed glance with Mrs. Stenger. Both women flagged down the waiter at the same time.

“Please bring me another glass of white wine,” Lady Frederic said.