It took a good few minutes before she felt she was capable of explaining where her train of thought was heading, time in which Rhenick and Norbert took to speaking in hushed tones to each other, their conversation coming to an abrupt end when Rhenick looked her way.
“Done thinking?” he asked.
“For the most part. And if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to voice what I’m thinking and get both of your opinions on it.”
Rhenick strode into motion with Norbert by his side, stopping directly in front of her.
“We’re listening,” Norbert said, holding a hand up to his ear, which either meant he was taking the fact that she wanted his opinion seriously, or that he was somewhat hard of hearing.
She fought an unexpected smile. “I suppose I’ll start by asking this—what if my aunt gave me the castle as a way to keep it safe from the developers while she was gone? And also, what if her solicitor disappeared after rumors of Ottilie’s ghost started swirling around because he knew certain members of the criminal persuasion were going to start pressuring him to settle her affairs?”
Norbert rubbed a hand over his face. “Begging your pardon, Miss Merriweather, but that’s a lot of questionable what-ifs. Besides, I don’t really understand why your aunt wouldn’t have expected you to come and at least visit the castle since everyone knows Lake Michigan is beautiful in the summer.”
“My aunt knows my family only summers in Newport, so she wouldn’t have expected us to change our plans, not when the social Season in Newport is something we spend months preparing for—well, until we experienced a bit of a financial catastrophe. That catastrophe is the reason why we’re now in Chicago, and why, since I can’t sell the castle, I’m considering turning it into an academy for young ladies.”
Rhenick’s mouth went slack. “I would advise you against that.”
“I wasn’t asking for your opinion on that particular topic,” she shot back before blinking at the distinct trace of snippiness that had been lacing her tone, something that would have most assuredly had her decorum teachers passing around a vial of smelling salts.
She blew out a breath. “Forgive me, Mr. Whittenbecker. I didn’t mean to be terse with you. With that said, though, opening an academy is the only way I can think of to avert financial disaster, since I can’t sell the place. And it’ll also allow me to put to good use my only credible talent.”
“I highly doubt you only possess one credible talent.”
“Which is kind of you to say, but I’m not portraying false modesty just now. I honestly do possess a singular talent—that being that I’m overly proficient with all matters of social propriety. I had the honor of being top of my class at the academy for young ladies I attended and have recently been told that if I hadn’t been born into one of the wealthiest families in the country, I would have excelled at being a headmistress of a finishing school, something I’m now going to prove wasn’t the insult it was intended to be.”
“You will not be able to prove anything if you’re dead, a state you might very well soon experience if you don’t at least consider selling.”
Drusilla shook her head. “I gave Aunt Ottilie my word, and while I’m sure she wouldn’t want me or my sister to be in danger, I’m not going to sell a castle my aunt might not have wanted to part with but merely gave to me as a way to keep it safe for her until she returns. Hopefully, if keeping the castle safe was her actual objective, she won’t be too annoyed with me over turning it into an academy.”
“Given Ottilie’s philanthropic efforts to improve the lives of women in general, I’m sure she’ll be anything but annoyed,” Rhenick said. “However, even though it’s admirable that you want to protect the castle for when your aunt returns—if she returns—can you not at least consider moving somewhere else until you hear from her, which will keep you safe from people who’ll go to extreme measures to get their hands on this property?”
“If I wasn’t experiencing that financial catastrophe I mentioned, of course I’d reconsider, but that’s not an option.” Drusilla’sforehead furrowed. “Out of blatant curiosity, though, what exactly would those extreme measures be that you mentioned?”
“Given that you’re adamant about not selling, I don’t think that it would be comforting for you if I were to expand on that.”
“I really must insist.”
Rhenick raked a hand through his hair, leaving the black strands standing on end. “Well, if you insist—know that the most extreme measure would be finding yourself at the bottom of Lake Michigan without a way to get back to the surface.”
“Thatwouldbe extreme,” Drusilla admitted as she gave the slightest bit of a shudder, something she suspected Rhenick had seen because his eyes narrowed for the briefest of seconds before he raked his hand through his hair again and started pacing around the courtyard.
He made four complete circles before he stopped to look out over the water for a long moment, then turned and strode back toward her, taking a seat beside her on the bench.
“You seem to believe you don’t have any other option but to open an academy as a means to bring in some income. However, I have an alternative for you, one that will fix your financial situation, allow you to keep possession of the castle so you can return it to Ottilie when she returns, and lets you avoid the whole finding-yourself-on-the-bottom-of-Lake-Michigan problem.”
Her sense of apprehension was immediate. “That sounds more like a miracle than a solution, but before you tell me what you have in mind, tell me this—why does it seem as if you’ve decided to take it upon yourself to assume responsibility for me?”
Something interesting flickered through Rhenick’s eyes before he settled a smile on her. “I told you, I’m good friends with your aunt, and Ottilie would certainly expect me to step in,especially now that you have no other men available to protect you. The only way I can truly protect you, though, is this...” He leaned closer. “The way I see it, in order to keep you safe from members of Chicago’s underworld, you’re going to have to marry me, and the sooner the better as well.”
Eleven
Trudging up the steps leading to his home on North Rush Street, an address that wasn’t as fashionable as Prairie Avenue but still sported some impressive mansions all the same, Rhenick opened a door that was painted an unusual shade of red—vermillion, to be exact—chosen by his sister Eloise, who’d decided the previous year that vermillion was her favorite color and had asked if they could paint the front door that color in honor of her fifteenth birthday.
Birthdays in the Whittenbecker household were considered very important events indeed, which was why their door now stood out from all the other doors in the neighborhood, not that Rhenick was sure the neighbors appreciated that. However, given that Eloise seemed to be gravitating toward yellow these days, he had a feeling the neighbors wouldn’t have to suffer the sight of a vermillion door for much longer.
After walking into the entranceway, Rhenick moved aside a few hats, ribbons, and even a pair of roller skates that were dangling by their laces from the hooks that were attached to the wall, finally making a space large enough to where he could hang up his hat.
He barely had a moment to glance in the mirror that hung beside the hooks before the sound of someone racing downthe steps drew his attention, that distraction allowing him to ignore the fact that the glimpse he’d just gotten of his current expression suggested he was still lingering in what could only be described as a bewildered state.
