“Of note, you must curb your boldness on topics not suitable for ladies. Contrary to what your father thinks, you cannot appear intelligent. It’s a turn-off for men.”
“I agree,” said Louise. “In my circles, I’ve heard horrid things about odious educated women. They sink to the river bottom and carry the filth with them.”
What they referred to was Elizabeth’s education. Shortly after returning home from out west, her father had admitted that he had been unfair during her ordeal.
“You’ve always been my favorite, Lizzie. It’s just that—it’s been hard on me to comprehend as your father.”
Her vision had blurred. “Father, I really don’t know what happened.”
He had squeezed her hand. “That incident is over and done with. I’ve seen your depression and have been thinking. What would you say about advancing your education to sharpen your mind? I’ve heard good things about Vassar College in Poughkeepsie. It will take some convincing with your mother, but doable.”
Elizabeth could not go far from her daughter. “Father, I’ve been away for a year and to leave again would be hard. Why not the Academy of Mount St. Vincent? It’s close to home and I could see you often.”
Her father had kissed her forehead. “Mount St. Vincent it is.”
While attending Mount St. Vincent, Elizabeth volunteered at the orphanage and upon receiving her degree, began teaching there, delighted to see her daughter every day.
Chapter Five
With Shawn beside him, Zachary waited in the receiving line, glancing around the enormous Spencer entrance hall that served as an exhibition of architecture, artifact, and art that testified to the owner’s ample means and stylish tastes. Twin marble staircases with densely spindled railings led from the front hall to the upper floors. The cloying fragrance of gigantic vases of flowers mixed with the overpowering perfumes of women stayed suffocating and made his nose twitch.
Shawn tapped his toe on the opalescent marble floor. “Note the Gothic and early Renaissance chateau modeled from a European castle. The decor has underlined Edward and Alva Spencer,” he angled his head to the couple at the head of the receiving line, “as discriminating connoisseurs.”
Zachary lifted a brow and surveyed the overdone splendor. “I prefer the simplicity of the plains.”
Shawn whispered, “During your meeting, be mindful Spencer and his colleagues have radically reduced operating costs, increased efficiency, and have accrued immense national wealth. Through combinations of monopoly, merger, consolidation and trust, these industrial leviathans havesubjugated labor, stifled free market competition, and concentrated financial and political power. They are widely seen as a threat to the country’s fundamental ideals. Be wary in seeking financing from them.”
An exquisite woman joined the family grouping, turned, and stood bequeathed in a sphere of radiance. His breath stalled, like it did at the orphanage, and for a moment he could not breathe. He assessed the statistical odds that nature could improve upon perfection. None.
Wild, rich golden hair was swept atop her in a gentle swirl and cascaded in a mass of loose ringlets. Errant tendrils escaped and he found that flaw enhanced what nature had delivered. Her skin was pinkened by the sun—as if she cared more for health than a fashionably pale complexion.
“I won’t be able to stay past dinner,” said Shawn. “I want to see my wife and children before the evening ends. It will be enough to make introductions. From there you will be on your own.”
Impossible.To believe the woman he’d saved, delivered her child, and then regarded at the orphanage would be the daughter of America’s richest banker? How had he missed that?
“Elizabeth Spencer was at the orphanage today. Did you meet her?” asked Shawn.
Oh, he met her.
Get a hold of yourself, Zachary. Stay away. Women are nothing but trouble. How he’d learned the hard way, seduced, and jilted by a lying, scheming bitch who made off with one of his key inventions with her husband. A bitter pall remained. They were making huge amounts of money from his creation.
He was destined to be alone. He cultivated that loneliness, night, and day, immersed in his work, allowing the loneliness to tunnel into his soul. Instead, he chose to lose himself in his lust for inventing and improving things.
The first time he’d laid eyes on Elizabeth in Missouri, Zachary could barely get over her beauty. But this—this was beyond perfection. Both hypnotizing and enchanting, her refinement challenged ordinary souls. Didn’t the insinuation of defiance in her unflinching eyes afford her to be that much more bewitching?
But this woman was a distraction. Not one he could afford. Yet all manner of wicked thoughts filled his brain. Would her hair feel soft and silky in his fingers, would her lips yield willingly under his, would she…? He shook his head. How absurd! He was a man focused on getting financing and setting the world afire with his new engine not a randy adolescent boy.
She wore a green gown cut low, the draped skirt washed in emerald. Her willowy figure well-served by a tight-waisted gown, and her father looked at her with obvious pride. She fingered the string of diamonds he must have given her to add sparkle to the deep emerald green of her satin gown.
She was not for Zachary. Her family would pick someone equivalent in financial stature or a man with a title. A sour taste grew in his mouth as a male guest lifted Elizabeth’s hand to kiss. How long would it take for him to rip the man’s arm off?
“Did you say something?” Shawn turned to him, caught him glaring at the man.
“Nothing.”
Alva Spencer gave her daughter dark, disapproving looks that Elizabeth passed off with a benign smile, presenting an elegance far beyond her forbearer.
To glorify her rank, Alva purposely stood positioned in front of a near two-story portrait of herself. Like an altar, her tragedy of vanity rose to the heavens, a subtle message for mere mortals to kneel and pay homage. Like mother, like daughter, Zachary mused.
