Authors: A Hint of Mischief
Jennifer hid a smile. Although Aunt Eve knew that Charles was Gabriel’s attorney, she’d fallen eagerly into their plans, determined that no man cause trouble for her charges. Glancing once more around the parlor, Jennifer turned up the gaslights so the room was as comfortable as possible, then fluffed up a pillow where they’d decided Charles Howe would sit.
Aunt Eve scurried into the kitchen and opened the oven door. Waving a towel back and forth, she made certain that the enticing aroma of cinnamon permeated the
house. After pouring the hissing water into a delicate china teapot, she dropped a tea ball of the finest cut tea leaves into the pot. On second thought, she followed the tea with a generous portion of brandy, stirring the aromatic liquid and happily inhaling the fumes.
It was so important that they win over Charles Howe. Jennifer quelled the butterflies in her stomach as she realized one of the most talented lawyers in New York waited on their step. Charles could cause them innumerable problems, both legally and socially, if he chose to. He had enormous influence with New York society, was well liked and respected, and came from a good family. Charles’s acceptance would go far to further their entrée into society, while his antagonism could bury them in one legal battle after another. Even more importantly, Charles was Gabriel’s friend, and as such, would certainly have considerable influence over him.
The doorbell rang, and Jennifer glanced once more at her sisters. Penelope settled onto the love seat, a book in her hand. At Jennifer’s frown, she glanced down and turned the book right side up, shrugging in apology. Winifred rushed into the chair by the fire, a brief on her lap, then nodded to Jennifer.
Opening the door, Jennifer successfully hid her apprehension as her gaze fell on Charles Howe. Tall and perfectly built, he was dressed in the height of fashion in a pearl gray lounge jacket with a matching waistcoat and a sparkling white shirt beneath. A diamond pin nestled between the folds of his necktie, winking in the sunlight, and he carried his hat and cane in his white gloved hands. Handsome and well-bred, with his straight dark hair falling across his brow in a dashing wave and his black eyes serious, he looked at Jennifer, surprise clearly written on his face.
“Jennifer Appleton?” He glanced at the doorstep as if to verify the address.
“I am Miss Appleton,” Jennifer replied demurely, sweeping open the door and gesturing inside. Dressed in a simple rose-colored morning gown, with a pearl brooch at her throat, she looked serene and beautiful, as much unlike a gypsy wench as he could imagine. Her bangs had begun to grow back in, and a charming little fringe of curls peeped from beneath her lace cap. “Please come inside, Mr. Howe. Winifred is expecting you. I must say, we are grateful that you’ve taken an interest in us. Winifred is so excited about meeting you!”
Charles’s mouth gaped as he stepped through the door. Twin Gables, a creepy old mansion, nevertheless looked warm and inviting inside, especially with three beautiful women gracing the parlor. Like a little boy in a sweetshop, Charles glanced around quickly, his gaze bouncing from Jennifer to the gorgeous blonde patting the love seat before him, to the unusual beauty gracing the corner. Stunned, he handed his hat and cane to Jennifer, then walked dreamlike across the room, taking the seat that Penelope so generously proffered.
The scent of lilac water, so reminiscent of the letter, hit him full in the face. As he glanced up, he saw the woman in the corner watching him with cat eyes, sizing him up as if he were prey. He shook himself, dispelling the ridiculous thought, then gaped once more as a sweet little old lady tottered in and placed a tea tray before him.
Delicious smells of cinnamon buns, poppy seed cakes, and chocolate wafted up to tease his nostrils, and the teapot steamed invitingly. As a bachelor, Charles didn’t often know the delights of a home-baked tea, and his mouth watered as the woman, who could have been his own grandmother, poured him a cup.
“I’d like to introduce you to everyone here,” Jennifer said, her voice dripping with honey. Charles turned toward her, sipping one of the best cups of tea he’d had in ages. A feeling of warmth rushed through him, and he took another
deep drink of the tea, amazed at how rejuvenating the simple brew was. “This is my sister Penelope, our aunt Eve, and Winifred. Winnie is the one who answered your kind letter.”
Charles’s gaze swung back to the sister in the corner. The enchantress smiled, and he saw the dangerously keen intelligence in her eyes. He thought of the legends of Morgan le Fay, and quickly dismissed them, declaring to himself that it must have been the house that made him so fanciful. Still, he could not look away, not even when Penelope, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, chirped in his ear.
“Winnie was so impressed with your letter! And we adore Mary Forester. I’m so glad she has someone like you to look after her! Gabriel must be proud, to have a mother like her!”
Charles sipped more of the wonderful tea, then took a bite out of the cake. The cinnamon bun melted in his mouth, and he nearly groaned aloud in pleasure. Warmth and contentment flooded through him, and it took every ounce of determination he had to remember why he was there.
“Yes, Mary Forester is a good woman. That is why I was so concerned that she not be taken advantage of, in any way. Unfortunately, you young ladies are in a unique position to influence her. I’m here to see that no one prospers at Mrs. Forester’s expense.”
Some of the sternness he’d practiced came back into his voice, and he was grateful. Aunt Eve gasped. Penelope drew back from him, looking like she would cry, and Charles felt a moment’s panic. Fortunately, Jennifer smiled charmingly, nodding in agreement.
“We feel exactly the same way. Thank God she came to us! A woman as sweet as Mrs. Forester could easily find herself the prey of the vultures in our city! I am so glad we could help her.”
“My nieces are the very picture of decorum,” Aunt Eve defended them pointedly. “I’ve tutored them myself from
Hill’s Manual
and
Godey’s
. They are very proper, nice young ladies and would never dream of causing trouble to someone like Mary Forester.”
Aunt Eve left the room to fetch the sandwiches, her head held high.
“Mrs. Forester was actually thinking of ending her own life when she came here.” Penelope sighed. “But now, she is happy, and contemplating her wedding! Can you imagine?”
Gabriel hadn’t told him that his mother was suicidal. Charles also didn’t know that Mary was considering remarriage, a situation he knew Gabriel would find difficult. Doubt filled his mind as he realized he’d only gotten half the story from his friend. The attorney found it harder and harder to stay angry, especially when Penelope leaned over him, handing him another cake and affording him an enviable glance at her generous bosom. Jennifer saw that his teacup stayed filled, while Winifred sent him odd glances from the corner. Forcing himself to sound gruff, he turned toward Winifred, who still fascinated him more than Penelope’s obvious charms.
“I know that you helped Mary, and that she is grateful. But you did accept too much money from her. That is both wrong and illegal.”
Winifred raised her gaze to his, and Charles felt the blood throb in his veins. She indicated the brief on her lap and when she spoke, he could feel a vibration that went straight through to his stomach.
“Mr. Howe,” Winifred began, her eyes shining with anticipation. “Mrs. Forester and Jennifer had a contract. By that, I mean a legally enforceable promise. Jennifer agreed to perform a séance for her, and Mrs. Forester would pay what she felt was fair. Mrs. Forester agreed to these conditions of her own free will, and of sound mind. Even though
it was verbal, that contract was just as binding as if I came to you for a legal service. If I was so delighted with your performance that I chose to pay you more, and you accepted, no one would have done anything illegal.” She waved a brief at him, indicating a column of terse, legal script. “Fortunately, Bernard Goodman, of Vanderslice, Goodman, and Barry, has generously provided me access to his law library. I have read his briefs extensively. Surely you are familiar with
Howe versus Clafflin?
I believe the case was proven and discussed to the court’s satisfaction.”
Charles’s mouth dropped once more. This time he ignored both Penelope as she refilled his cup, and Jennifer as she replaced his half-eaten cake.
“You didn’t read the entire trial brief? There were several interesting discussions as a result of that case.”
“Yes, I know. Such as whether Tennessee Clafflin truly meant to cure Rebecca Howe, or just provide spiritual comfort. Also, Rebecca Howe was responsible for her own health, and if she decided not to go to doctors, but to put her faith in spiritual healing, that was her decision. Nevertheless, she paid the agreed-upon price for services rendered. I believe the court found for Clafflin.”
“You can’t agree with that verdict! Rebecca wrote a letter to the
Ottawa Republican
, stating that Miss Clafflin made her far worse than before she began treatment. Surely you wouldn’t disregard such a letter? People have been sued for far less.”
“And people have been wrongly sued,” Winifred said coolly.
Aghast, Charles settled on another tack. “Did you read
Seton versus Shoemaker
?”
“In its entirety.” Winifred smiled. Placing the papers aside, she leaned forward, intensity gleaming in her gaze. “What is your view on that verdict?”
As the two argued legalities, Jennifer and Penelope exchanged satisfied glances. Aunt Eve smiled smugly as
she brought a tray of ham sandwiches from the kitchen, and offered one to Charles. The attorney rose to his feet, grabbed a sandwich as if unaware of his actions, then waved it in the air to make a point. Winifred rose and faced him just as forcefully, her cool voice never rising, her logic backed with inescapable fact.
Jennifer was filled with admiration. Although she’d always envied Winifred’s intelligence, she had never seen her so passionate. Perhaps it was because Charles shared her legal knowledge, or was her intellectual equal. Jennifer smiled to herself. As puzzling as the situation appeared, she had to admit that Winifred and Charles made a handsome couple. She gestured to Penelope and her aunt, and they silently left the room, leaving Winifred and Charles to their wrangling.
The sun had long since set when the three women returned to the parlor. Charles glanced up, seemingly amazed when he realized the time. Aunt Eve looked reproving, Penelope winked flirtatiously, and Winifred appeared eager to continue their discourse well into the night.
“Mr. Howe,” Aunt Eve said, “I am sorry, but my nieces are previously engaged this evening. Perhaps we could enjoy your conversation once again, at supper later this week?”
Embarrassed, Charles turned to Jennifer, who held his hat and cane. “I’m sorry, I have overstayed my welcome. I have not been a good guest either, dominating the conversation in such a manner.”
“Oh, I think some of us found it fascinating,” Jennifer said, sending a warm smile toward her sister.
Charles turned to Winifred, bowing before her as he would a respected lady. “My apologies for writing that frightful letter. I understand now that none of you would ever hurt Mary, nor anyone else of our acquaintance. I am truly humbled by the opportunity to know you, and I
would take it as a kind gesture if you would all attend the opera one evening as my guests.”
It was obvious that he meant the invitation for Winifred, but generously included them all. Aunt Eve nodded her approval. Jennifer grinned, thrilled with this outcome, while Penelope clapped. Winifred rose and placed her hand in his.
“It would be my pleasure.”
A pleased flush washed over his face. Jennifer saw Charles struggle to think of something witty or clever to say. Nothing came to him and so he bowed once more, reluctantly leaving the house.
Jennifer leaned against the door, nearly fainting with relief. A smile curved her lips as Penelope cheered for Winifred, and Aunt Eve gave her niece a warm hug. Winifred looked strangely beautiful, serene and content, yet as energized as if she’d spent the last hour kissing instead of arguing. Jennifer would have liked to tease her about it, but something in Winifred’s manner didn’t allow such intimacy.
Instead, Jennifer chuckled, totally pleased with the outcome of Charles’s visit. She could just see Gabriel’s face when he heard about this.
One down, one to go.
Gabriel slapped his gloves against his thigh in irritation, waiting for the carriage to arrive at his mother’s house. It was Sunday, and he’d promised her that he would stop by for tea, a promise that didn’t make him feel any better. While it was wonderful to see her so happy, she continued to ignore his warnings about her future groom, and about that Appleton creature, whom she’d apparently befriended.
Gabriel’s mouth curved into a thunderous frown as he
thought of Jennifer for the thousandth time. Unbelievably, Charles had stopped by the previous night after visiting the Appletons, and informed him that as far as he was concerned, all bets were off. Somehow, the bewitching sisters had won him over and he wanted nothing more to do with harassing them. If Gabriel didn’t know better, he could have sworn Charles was drunk, even though the man insisted they’d only served him tea. He was drunk, all right, Gabriel thought hotly, intoxicated by the Appleton herself.
Yet he couldn’t completely fault Charles for succumbing to their charms, much as he would have liked to do so. His own behavior with Jennifer in the Barrymores’ garden was inexcusable. Worse, he had no logical explanation for it, no way to satisfy his own self-doubt where Jennifer was concerned. Why he’d felt compelled to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless, when he’d sworn to hate her, made absolutely no sense. He could still taste the sweetness of her kiss, feel the seductive yielding of her soft body against his … What was wrong with him? What was it about this woman that threatened to obsess him?
He had but one consolation. At least he wasn’t liable to run into “the Appleton” again anytime soon. Jennifer and her sisters, while a curiosity, were far from being accepted into society. He still couldn’t figure out how she’d finagled an invitation to the Barrymore affair, but she’d managed it right under everyone’s nose, and was a spectacular success. Yet, although everyone was talking about the grace and charm of the three sisters, no one of any consequence had truly embraced them.