She met his gaze, and Roman lost his heart. “I would really enjoy that. Grandfather wants me to attend, but I was dreading it.”
He wanted nothing more than to kiss her but refrained. “Then I will pick you up just before eight.”
Perhaps that evening could end in a kiss.
16
Bert finished checking his appearance one last time. He needed to be perfect. His gray suit had been tailored to show his wealth and attention to detail. His hair was neatly trimmed and his shoes shined. Gazing into the mirror and seeing his reflection, Bert was quite satisfied. There was nothing that should be unwelcomed by Judith Stanford.
He was considered a great catch. At least, he was considered that by a good number of people in Minneapolis. He had always had plenty of interested women, but none of them could offer him what he really wanted—power and money. Judith Stanford could give him both, as well as connections. Not only that, but she was beautiful. What man wouldn’t be pleased to have her on his arm?
Smiling, Bert picked up his hat and then headed for the door. He had good feelings about the day. It was the Fourth of July. American Independence was being celebrated across the country, and Minneapolis was certainly no different. Bert had been invited to a grand celebration that evening, and this was the perfect excuse to see Judith. He would convince her tojoin him no matter what it took. If he could just get her alone, Bert knew he could woo her and entice her to see him as more than her grandfather’s lawyer.
He reached the Ashton house nearly fifteen minutes later and checked his watch. It was nearly ten. Tucking the piece back into his pocket, Bert climbed the steps with a sense of satisfaction. He wasn’t scheduled to meet with the old man until ten thirty. That would give him some thirty minutes to convince Judith to accompany him.
Bert lifted the knocker and tapped it against the door several times. It was only a matter of minutes before Mrs. Deeters opened to him.
“Good morning, Mr. Black.” She stepped back to admit him. “You’re rather early.”
“I know. I apologize. I thought perhaps I could see Judith before making my way upstairs.” He handed her his hat.
Mrs. Deeters shook her head. “Mrs. Stanford isn’t home.”
This wasn’t at all what Bert had expected. “Where is she?” He knew that was none of his business and the height of impropriety to ask, but it came out of his mouth before he could think.
“She had an appointment this morning.”
“When are you expecting her home?” He hoped she wouldn’t question his eagerness.
“Mr. Black, I hardly see how Mrs. Stanford’s schedule is any of your concern.”
She hadn’t yet closed the door, but Bert feared she might well ask him to leave, especially since she still held his hat. He offered her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be forward. I wanted to extend an invitation to Judith for a party tonight. I know it’s rather short notice, but I hoped she might be free to join me.”
“It is very short notice. I have no idea of her plans.”
“Well, I suppose my invitation will have to wait. Since I’mhere, would you mind checking with Mr. Ashton and inquiring as to whether we might start our meeting early?”
“Of course. Why don’t you wait in the sitting room?” She placed his hat on the table, then opened the pocket doors. “I’ll be right back.”
Bert entered the room but didn’t sit. Instead, he took inventory of the opulent furnishings and dreamed that they might one day be his. The time he’d given this man surely merited something more than whatever insignificant amount Ashton planned to leave him. Of course, he was paid well enough, and Ashton had even set him up in a nice apartment with quality furnishings. But that wasn’t the same as endowing Bert with his millions.
Touching the edge of the gilded framed landscape, Bert contemplated what it might be like to have the means to do whatever he wanted to do. He could stop working and simply enjoy the benefits of wealth. He could manage the Ashton fortune and holdings and receive the respect of all. Even his father would be impressed, and that wasn’t an easy task to accomplish.
“Mr. Black, Mr. Ashton said you may come up,” Mrs. Deeters announced.
He smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”
The house was quiet as Bert made his way upstairs. Ashton preferred silence and demanded it from his staff. That was another reminder of the man’s power. People might not like him, but they did respect him. Bert would be happy enough with that for himself. He often imagined being asked to the most important parties and social events. His family was well-respected back in Boston, and he made sure that word got around Minneapolis of their social standing. People knew he’d come from money and quality. It was just a matter of time before they put him at the top of Minneapolis society.
Winchell met him at the bedroom door. “Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning, Winchell. How’s Mr. Ashton feeling today?” He hoped the man was a little closer to his demise. This lingering on was difficult for everyone, or at least it was for Bert.
“He’s faring as well as possible.”
Winchell led the way into the grand Ashton sanctuary. Bert thought of how he would remake the room and put everything in the furniture styles of Charles Eastlake. The British designer was becoming quite popular as he moved the current trends away from excessive embellishments.
“Mr. Black is here, sir,” Winchell announced.
