Spencer turned his attention to the new Asher B. Durand landscape he had commissioned. “He might not have anything. I’ve known a man to come to my office, and I have given hima check for a million dollars when he didn’t have a cent in the world.”
Elias Bernstein’s eyes popped wide. “That is not business.”
Spencer angled his head. “Yes, it is.”
Elias frowned. “But is not commercial credit based primarily upon money or property?”
“No, sir. The first is character.”
Elias choked, thunderstruck by the revelation.
Spencer swiveled to the reporter. “Before money or property, or anything else. Money cannot buy it, because a man I do not trust will get no money from me.”
Elias scribbled his notes, mystified with every word.
Edward pinned his gaze on Elias, “Some newspapers praise me as a builder and conservator, not a wrecker, liar or cheat. Joseph Pulitzer’sWorldcalled me a ‘commanding figure of dying financial feudalism’.” What is it to be with you, Elias? A fair interview?”
“Mr. Spencer, I must say I expected something different. I’m impressed with your candidness. I’m sure you will be very happy with the result.”
The train whistle blew.
“I must get going to make the dailies.” Elias shook hands, sported his derby and jumped from the departing train.
Edward poured himself a brandy. “Always good to make use of the press.”
“You stand on a shore and command the waves to advance or recede,” said Dyer.
Edward snorted. “And you own the other half of the press.”
“Politicians and reporters. Not run by gentlemen, more by saloonkeepers, horsecar conductors, and the like.”
Edward settled into a seat next to his long-time cohort. “I look forward to the success of my new railroad enterprise.”
Dyer swirled the whiskey in his glass, the ice chinking. “Is your daughter, Elizabeth, happy with the prospective duke? Will she want to venture far from home?”
Edward sat and studied his glass. “She is resilient. She will triumph along with her huge dowry and a title. I will miss her, though.”
Edward Spencer loved his eldest daughter’s sunny temper and unquestioning adoration. She was often his traveling companion because her mother found reasons to take to her bed with the megrims. Unlike Alva, Elizabeth never demanded anything of him, nor did she retreat the way her mother and sister did to find fault, complaint or illness. Part child, part woman, part him, Elizabeth seemed a natural in understanding his moods and desires. She was constantly available—and she knew when to leave him alone.
He had indulged her extravagantly with a European trip. He took her to concerts, art museums, and floor shows. When she couldn’t find a hat she liked, he ordered one made of several partsheliked best. In Paris, he showed her the Opera, the Louvre, and the Palais Royal, bought her dresses at Worth’s, hired a carriage to let her explore the city. He gave a satisfied breath, proud of Elizabeth, fascinated with the way she carried herself and the pleasant appearance she made in all quarters.
He lit one of his favorite Havana cigars—a large Pedro Murias made especially for him in Cuba. The smoke rose supreme and haloed his head. The greatest investment he’d made was funding her education. The initiative proved to be an asset. He allowed her to keep sensitive accounts, her gift with numbers an advantage. With his business endeavors and financial associates, she had proved to be a good sounding board, possessing an instinct for the ways of monies and means and men. Why wasn’t she born a boy? In so many ways, she tookafter him, brilliant as a star and would have posed a formidable figure in the financial world. The disaster was her gender.
Taking a deep pained breath, he closed his eyes with the regret of arranging to have her sent out west. What had happened to the child? He took a draw on his cigar and flicked the ash into the crystal tray. What was done was done.
Edward had been quiet in his musings for a long time. That was why he appreciated Dyer who understood his silence. Alva whined that his conversational skills remained the nearest approach to a grunt. So be it.
Rawlins Dyer reached into his pocket and pressed Elizabeth’s handkerchief between his thumb and forefinger, manipulating the delicate embroidery. She had made it for his birthday, and he treasured it. The linen made him feel close to her. A laundry maid had once lost the handkerchief. His world stopped until it was discovered a few days later. For an unpardonable sin, the maid lost the use of her legs.
By whatever machination Dyer required, he’d not permit Elizabeth to go to England. Dyer shrugged with his contemplations. How convenient for the duke to fall into the Hudson and drown. Might cause an international incident but he possessed the resources to conceal the debacle and placate the relatives in England with enough funds to shut them up.
Dyer was older, untitled but tantamount in wealth to Spencer. With Elizabeth at his side, he’d shine, become more influential, powerful and invincible. She was always the one for him. He knew it. Despite her looking at him as a favorite uncle, he’d make her love him.
He leaned back in his chair, small wins by relentless perseverance would deliver Elizabeth’s attention to him. Often, he’d park across from her home or followed her about townin an unmarked carriage. He had hired spies informing him of her whereabouts. He shuffled his appointments to escort her whenever possible.
Damn him for not being more careful and not putting on a sheath. How he had drugged her, followed her upstairs, plundered her virginity, making her gloriously his. Never would he forget the experience, reliving it in his mind over and over again. How he had possessed the Toast of New York, her youth, and vibrance. They were his to dominate. The unfortunate circumstance was her becoming pregnant and that had precipitated her removal from him. Who the hell knew his seed would take the first time? He had taken two trips to Missouri to watch her from afar, the dratted child growing in her belly and responsible for taking Elizabeth away from him.
A big problem was her infatuation with the cowboy. Dyer set his drink down and locked his fingers behind his head. What haunted him was how their relationship evolved…as if they had known each other before. Couldn’t waste time on allowing the attraction between the two. Must create a divide.
