“Am I?”
Sharisse frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“I happened to be on Broadway this morning, in the midst of that infernal ‘Ladies’ Mile,’ as you girls call it. I thought I would stop in at your dressmaker, as long as I was there, to settle your account. But the lady tells me your bill has been taken care of.”
“But how—?”
“That’s what I would like to know. She couldn’t tell me anything except that a boy had come around with the money and said it was to take care of your bill. She assumed the money came from me, including a large tip.”
“It must be Joel seeing to Steph’s gowns.”
Her father shook his head. “Your name was specified by the errand boy.”
“Well, it must be a mistake then.”
He shook his head again. “I went to three other shops where I know you trade.”
Sharisse knew by his look. “They were paid up, too?”
“Yes.”
She sat down next to his desk, thoroughly confused. “I don’t know what to tell you. You know I never carry cash when I go shopping. Everything is charged to you. But if neither of us paid those bills, then who did?”
“Robert?”
“Certainly not! I barely know him. I wouldn’t be seeing him at all if Joel and Steph hadn’t kept pestering me about it.”
“I know he’s a close friend of Joel’s, so I thought…You haven’t been seeing anyone else, have you?”
“Father, really! Are you suggesting I’m some man’s mistress?”
He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “No, of course not. But you apparently have a generous admirer, although his approach is certainly unusual. Who could it be?”
“I’ve met several gentlemen recently who are new in town, but none impressed me as showy or extravagant. No, I can’t imagine anyone I know doing this. It’s intriguing, though. Those bills you mentioned weren’t for trifling amounts.”
“Your bills never are, my dear.”
She ignored that. “It is an unusual way to bestow a gift. Flowers or trinkets could be returned, but I’m not going to give back my new clothes after all the time I spent in fittings. I hope you will have cash available so that I can give the money back when I find out who this man is.”
“Why don’t you let me handle that. I don’t like the idea of a stranger paying for your necessities. Buying you little gifts to win your favor is one thing, but paying your bills is downright audacious. It must be a foreigner. They have funny ways of doing things.”
Sharisse grinned at his conclusion. “Well, whoever it is, I’m sure he will reveal himself soon enough. Now I really must go and get ready, Father. Will you be going to your club tonight? I hate to think of you being at home alone.”
“Don’t you worry about me. I think I’ll wait up for you, just in case you learn anything this evening.”
Thirty-eight
The first act of the play was already in progress when she and Robert arrived at the Academy of Music on the east side of Union Square. Its plain exterior, next to the more impressive Tammany Hall, failed to prepare one for its lovely interior. Balls were held there, as well as operas and amateur theatrical performances like the play that night.
Carriages lined the street, but not everyone was there for the play. Across the street couples strolled in the square or took advantage of the benches enclosed by grass and foliage. Mornings and afternoons would find the benches and walks crowded with white-capped nurse maids and children, idlers from the tramp to the overcome tippler, and pedestrians seeking the quiet shelter of trees in that “bit of country in town.” At night, lamps hung from the trees gave one a cozy, sequestered feeling. At night it was a place for lovers.
Sharisse didn’t know why she was gazing at it with such longing as she entered the Academy on Robert’s arm. Robert certainly didn’t tempt her. Oh, he was attractive enough with his light brown hair and blue eyes, and attentive enough. And he made it clear that he wanted to be far more than just an escort. But if she were going to take a lover, she would want someone taller, darker, a little wider in the shoulders, more like…
She cleared her mind of annoying thoughts and tried to concentrate on the performance. It worked for a while, but then her ring caught her eye, the large peridot surrounded by brilliants that matched her necklace and earrings. She had done it again, automatically chosen those jewels to wear tonight, just as she had chosen them for every formal occasion she had attended since her return to New York. Pearls would have looked better with the new silver-gray gown, or even her emeralds. But the large oval peridots were exactly the right color, with just enough yellow to make it seem that a fire was banked in their depths—just like his eyes.
Whycouldn’t she forget him? A year had passed, a whole year since she’d seen Lucas Holt, yet his image rose in her mind as clearly as if she’d seen him only yesterday.
“Sharisse! I thought that was you!”
