Nathaniel’s voice was annoyingly calm. “It’s got a desk, electricity, and a functioning fan. I’m perfectly happy.”
Luke snatched the report off the desk. “I’m taking this somewhere else for a second opinion,” he groused as he left the office. Nathaniel was the leading counterfeit expert in Washington, but Luke would still try to find someone better.
His mood didn’t improve once he got outside, but at least he could breathe again. His headache pounded, the lab reporthe’d pinned all his hopes on might not work, and he was irrationally jealous of his sister’s happiness. He was poisonous company today, but then, he’d always had a foul, selfish streak deep inside. He usually managed to keep it buried, but every now and then it clawed its way back out. Was he really going to spend the rest of his life watching other men become captains of industry, steer the nation from the halls of Congress, while he pathetically translated old novels written by someone else? He was supposed to be a man, not an angry ball of frustrated ambition.
Sometimes the restless demon inside was hard to tame. He wanted to strike out for the horizon or put on a uniform and fight someone. He wanted to test his strength until he literally could not keep swinging anymore. Temptation clawed at him, but his aching head and the rules of the Poison Squad precluded getting into a boxing ring. Anything that put unnecessary stress on his already abused body was disallowed by Dr. Wiley.
So, like a dutiful boy, he would head back to the boardinghouse for lunch, tuck a napkin under his chin, and eat whatever he was served without complaint.
Caroline’s rapid footsteps clicked on the sidewalk as she raced to catch up with him. “What’s put you in such a snit?”
“Just one of those days.”
He didn’t need to say anything else. He and Caroline shared a crib until they were a year old. They grew up side by side. No one knew him as well as she did, and he didn’t have to pretend with her. Around others he would crack a joke or pretend lazy indifference, but not Caroline.
“We all have those days, but try not to have them around Nathaniel,” she said. “He doesn’t know you very well yet.”
It was Luke’s fault that Caroline had to play peacemaker. Luke’s fault he’d been locked up in Cuba for over a year and caused his family untold misery. He needed to tamp down this low, mean part of himself and do better.
“I’ll be on good behavior,” he forced himself to say.
“And you will come with me to meet with the minister tomorrow?”
Gray would be giving Caroline away at her wedding, but Luke had agreed to do the readings, which was why he should talk to the minister about the selections. It was going to be the wedding of the year, with five hundred guests, including the president and three Supreme Court justices. Caroline never did anything halfway. She’d also invited plenty of people from the McKinley administration, for it was during her service in the McKinley White House that Caroline met Nathaniel. Caroline had sent an invitation to the former first lady, though it was doubtful Mrs. McKinley would attend. Caroline and Mrs. McKinley had an epic falling-out last year, and the wound still smarted for Caroline.
“I’ll be there. Are you sure the groom is going to be up for all the hoopla? He never struck me as the sort to kick up his heels and dance until dawn.”
“But he knows that I am, and he is happy to play along. Rather perfect, isn’t he?” Caroline flashed him a blinding smile. She and Nathaniel were opposites in every way, and yet he’d never seen her happier.
He folded her hand atop his forearm as they walked the four blocks back to the boardinghouse. “If I told you I wanted to marry someone who didn’t seem like a good match, but I swore she was the perfect woman for me, would you accept her?”
“Of course.”
She said it too casually. Too easily, as though she hadn’t really understood his question.
“Think carefully. What if she was a blue-nosed prude? A raging harridan with no fashion sense? Could you accept her?”
Caroline still seemed serenely nonchalant. “If you loved her, of course I would.”
“What if she was a Magruder?”
The light in her eyes faded. “Oh, Luke...”
He smiled a little sadly. “Yes. That’s what I’m up against.”
“Are you still trying to topple her father and grind her entire family into dust?”
“Some things never change.” Which meant a happy ending for him and Marianne probably wasn’t in the cards, but he couldn’t help wishing for it anyway.
Caroline gave him a quick hug. “Gray may pitch a fit, but I’ll stand beside you no matter what. If you choose Marianne Magruder, she will have my full support.”
“Swear it.”
She blanched. “What?”
“Swear it. Caroline, this may be more difficult than it seems. I’m not sure what I’m up against if she and I throw caution to the winds. I have this hankering to run away to San Francisco or sail into the sunset. With her.”
“Luke, I swear I will support you and whoever you choose to marry.”
