The Knickerbocker Bride: A Gilded Age Romance

Part Nine

"You're an idiot."

Harry looked up at those harsh words and found Lily Davies—now Cabot—barreling like a steam engine into his makeshift workshop in the ballroom. Calvin, her husband, followed closely behind, a wry smile on his face as if he enjoyed his wife's antics.

Oh, hell. This could not be good.

"Lily believes you may have feelings for me. Romantic feelings."

Had it just been yesterday when Cora dangled this piece of information in front of Harry? He'd wanted to lunge at it, admit his obsession with her, and accept the resulting consequences with a calm stoicism. The problem was the possibility of her rejection and his inability to handle it. He wasn't certain his beleaguered heart could take losing her as a friend. Better to suffer in misery with her in his life than to never see her again.

Yes, he was a coward of the worst sort.

He put down his tools and came to his feet. "Hello, Lily. Won't you please come in?" he muttered, knowing it wouldn't make a bit of difference whether he admitted Lily or not. She was a woman who always got her way.

Truth be told, he couldn't complain over the interruption. Anyone would be a welcome distraction at the moment, even Beezelebub himself. Because Cora was currently at Delmonico's enjoying an intimate dinner with John Drexel. Harry thought he might go stark raving mad just thinking about it.

This is what she wants. Don't stand in the way of her happiness.

"Apologies for bursting in on you like this, Belmont." Calvin thrust out his hand. "I tried to stop her but . . . " He shrugged as if nothing more needed to be said. And really, it didn't.

The two men shook hands then Harry kissed Lily's cheek. "How was Chicago?"

"Busy. We returned a few days ago," she said as her husband pulled out a chair for her. "I did pay a visit to Cora yesterday."

"Yes, she mentioned that." He retook his seat and tried to move some of the engine parts out of her way.

"She is actually why I am here."

Exactly what he'd feared. "Oh?"

"Harry, stop fiddling with your metal bits and give me your full attention."

Sighing, he stilled his hands and met her gaze. "I am able to work and listen at the same time, Lily."

"No doubt you're very gifted but it's rude. Not to mention I want to see your expression when you explain why you sent that sweet girl into John Drexel's clutches. What on earth were you thinking?"

"I was thinking to help a friend."

"Poppycock. I don't believe it for a second."

"Don't believe I was helping?"

"Any of it, actually. I don't believe you were thinking or helping. Or that you think of Cora as a friend. What I cannot understand is why you would deliberately set her up with that odious man, especially considering your feelings for her."

And there it was. The truth billowed in the room like a plume of smoke, the air turning acrid and bitter, impossible to breathe. Harry blinked and tried to think up a denial. The effort was useless, however. Lily would smash through any and all refusals on his part with the gentleness of a wrecking ball. A diversion was his only hope. "She's in love with him."

"God, no. She hasn't the first bit of affection for him. Drexel is this . . . idea she has in her mind, the man that every young girl wants yet no one can land. Have you read Melville's Moby Dick?"

"Of course."

Lily slapped her palm on the table. "Don't you see? Drexel is Cora's white whale. This unattainable legend she'd rather chase than catch."

"Ahab catches the whale," he couldn't help but say.

"And dies for it. Drexel will drag her down to the gutter if given the chance. He uses and discards people, especially women."

Harry slid a glance toward Cabot, who was watching his wife in concern, then back to Lily. "Perhaps I need her to come to this realization on her own."

"What if she doesn't, not right away? What if Drexel hurts her while she's learning this important lesson?" She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. "Furthermore, why is it your job to teach her that lesson? Why can't you just be honest—" She paled and gripped the sides of the table, her lids closed tightly.

Cabot jumped to his feet as he emptied a bucket of gears onto the table. He then held the bucket out to Lily. "Deep breaths. I have a bucket if you need it."

It happened seamlessly as if it had occurred many times before. Harry said, "Congratulations to you both."

Cabot's mouth hitched in a grin. "Thank you."

"Stop . . . taking . . . all . . . the . . . credit," Lily wheezed. "You've contributed very little to this endeavor thus far while I am doing all the suffering."

Cabot rubbed his wife's back between her shoulder blades. "And I'm very appreciative."

After another few seconds, she straightened. "The feeling has passed—for now. Count yourself fortunate, Harry, that I didn't vomit all over your work. Though it would serve you right for getting me all worked up."

He let that pass. "Shall I ask our cook for some ginger root?"

"No, thank you. I've had about all the ginger tea I can stand. Let's return to the topic at hand. Why haven't you told Cora how you feel about her?"

"What makes you think I haven't?"

Lily's gaze narrowed, studying his face. "Because she's off dining with Drexel. Cora has feelings for you, Harry."

He made a noise in the back of his throat, an amalgam of hope, disbelief, and longing. "A friendly affection, nothing more."

"Wrong. When I came to see her yesterday, she was upset. And what do you think she spoke to me about?"

"Drexel and his mistress on the sofa. Cora was heartbroken afterward."

"Again, wrong. She mentioned catching John in flagrante delicto but mostly worried about you. She barely spared three minutes on the topic of John Drexel, yet talked four times that amount on how you were ignoring her and contemplating whatever she'd done to upset you. She cares for you."

A spark flared deep inside his chest, in a part he'd long thought dead and buried for good. Could Lily be right? Did Cora harbor tender feelings for him? It seemed preposterous. After all, she'd had plenty of opportunities to raise the topic with him over the years. He didn't want to hope, lest it turn out Lily was wrong.

And yet . . .

He swallowed hard, his heart pounding with possibility. "Then why the Drexel fascination for all this time?"

"Because she's tired of waiting for you."

"I've been waiting for her."

Lily smiled at that and reached forward to touch his hand. "I know, Harry. But someone has to make the gambit in this game the two of you are playing. Otherwise, you'll remain at a stalemate and I love you both too much to see that happen."

He saw the sincerity in her eyes. He'd known Lily for almost twenty years and never once had he known her to lie. In fact, she was nearly always honest to a startling degree. He gave her a nod, all he was capable of at the moment with his mind and heart in turmoil.

She turned to her husband. "Calvin, take me home. All this matchmaking has me exhausted."

Cabot lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. "I tried to tell you."

They both stood. "You wanted me to wait until the morning. God knows what could happen between now and then." Before they left, she turned to Harry once more. "It's your move, Harry. Make it count. Go win your girl."