An Unsinkable Love

chapter 4


Sunday, April 14

Bree felt like she'd only just crawled into bed when she awoke to the annoying pounding on the door. She had to rouse a gently snoring Anne and physically push her out the door for their morning ablutions. After she downed a second cup of strong coffee, her roommate responded to conversation without constant yawns. They parted after a quick breakfast and a few minutes later Bree stepped off the last tread to F Deck.

Before she schooled her mind against it, she found herself surveying the empty corridors. As she headed toward the tiny workroom, she muttered under her breath about being spellbound by Asrais, the water faerie that like to cause trouble aboard ships. An odd thumping drew her attention, and she noted a sign that said Squash Court. The vision of gourds arguing law on a ship sent her into a peal of laughter as she hurried down the hall. She barely managed to get her mirth under control before entering Mr. Thorpe's lair.

Moments later, she was ensconced on the hard chair, surrounded by a new pile of mending. Her boss spent his time slowly opening and closing seemingly random drawers at his desk.

The hallway door had been left open to ventilate the stuffy room and, at midmorning, a steward appeared. He silently 42

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handed Mr. Thorpe a note. The old man clucked his tongue over the contents of the message before he turned to Bree.

"One of the first class passengers requires our services.

You will follow this man to their cabin and see what is needed.

Often our customers wish you to do the sewing there. If you are unable to do so, or they prefer, bring the garments here and complete the work. Speak as little as possible, be extremely polite and do not, under any circumstances, argue.

I'd better not hear about any problems, understand?"

Bree bobbed her head, knowing it was no use telling him she knew how to behave.

Mr. Thorpe handed her a heavy wooden box with a leather handle on top. "This is your kit. Make sure you bring it back intact. The cost of anything missing will be deducted from your wages."

Bree took time to open it, knowing she risked his wrath, but wanting to make sure it included everything she would need. The interior was ingenious, with oak trays on brass hinges that allowed them to swing up and away, revealing more trays below. There were spools of silk thread in dozens of colors, cards of needles and packets of long pins. Two pairs of sharp scissors, one large and one small, fit into felt-lined shallow trays. Folding measuring sticks, thimbles and a jar of assorted buttons completed the contents. The head tailor might be unfriendly, but he clearly did know his business.

Before Bree investigated further, Mr. Thorpe cleared his throat. She quickly replaced the trays, latched the box and turned to the steward. As Bree stepped out into the corridor, the tailor called out, "Remember what I said, young lady, and 43

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don't dawdle on your way back here. We have lots of work and can't afford time wasted on idle chit-chat with everyone you come across."

She didn't bother answering, too busy scurrying along to catch up with the fast-moving steward. Bree followed his stiff, black-clad figure up five levels of service stairs to A Deck, then down a hallway and out onto the open polished teakwood deck. She realized they were in the forward first class section. It was difficult to keep up, and several times she nearly collided with furniture or people as her inquisitive gaze was drawn by the sight of gentlemen in lounge coats escorting women in colorful frocks with large-brimmed, fanciful hats and parasols. Children in sailor suits and knee britches or frilly white dresses followed in their wake, herded by frazzled nannies. Bree trotted along behind the steward, who kept up a brisk pace, weaving between the passengers.

He turned back inside the ship, went a short distance down a plush carpeted and paneled hall and stopped outside a carved wooden door with a shiny brass Suite A5 plaque. He knocked.

The door was opened by a frail woman in a quilted dressing gown, her blue-veined hand grasping the collar tight to her neck. The steward bowed. "Madame, this is the seamstress, Miss Barry. She will assist you. Is there anything else you require at this time?"

The woman shook her head slightly, her face pale and tense, eyes red-rimmed. "No, thank you, Mr. Cave. I believe you've taken quite good care of me for the moment." Her voice was so low Bree barely caught the words.

"Very good, madam."

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The steward bowed again and slipped away, striding down the corridor. Bree turned to find the woman observing her closely.

"Come in, my dear." She stepped back and motioned Bree in. "I'm Elizabeth. I'm afraid I've left this until the last moment. I'm not sure you can help me." She led the way through a large sitting room into an equally large bedroom.

On the bed lay a beautiful gown in the popular new Oriental design. Emerald green silk shimmered with elaborate gold embroidery of storks, windswept hillsides and cherry blossoms. Handkerchief folds of embroidered tulle draped from the high waist. The dress had narrow shoulder straps and tiny pleats across the bosom with a low, straight neckline.

"You see, I seem to have lost some weight, and now this dress is simply hideous on me. My husband particularly insisted I wear the gown to dinner tonight at the captain's table. My dear friends, the Astors, will be attending, and Eldon will be quite put out if I show up 'looking like a half-starved old crone', as he so eloquently described it." She wrung her hands and peered over her shoulder as if she expected her angry husband to arrive at any moment. "On top of that, I'm afraid I don't have a maid to help me dress. I realize it's a great deal to ask, but if you could perhaps fit the dress a bit and assist me to get ready tonight, I would appreciate it ever so much."

"I'm sure we can manage, ma'am. I'll just help you slip the dress on so I can see what needs to be done."

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As the woman removed her wrapper, Bree gathered the voluminous silk skirt up and turned to drop it over the taller woman's white-blonde head. Through the sheer fabric of the woman's shift Bree saw an extensive bruise covering the woman's entire side, from armpit to thigh, colored in deep purple, red and yellow. She gasped. " A Thighearna! Whatever happened? That must hurt uafàsach!" She realized she'd lapsed into Gaelic in her concern when the woman gave her a confused glance. "Horribly. It must hurt horribly!"

Elizabeth looked away. "I'm so clumsy, you see. I fell. I hit

... er ... the edge of the bathtub. It does hurt quite dreadfully.

I knew I wouldn't be able to manage this by myself."

Bree frowned. "You should be in bed." She bent down and inspected the brilliantly colored bruise. " Dhuine! Didn't your husband hear you cry out?"

Elizabeth wouldn't meet her eye. "No. No, he wasn't here.

He left before it happened," she said in a dead voice.

Bree felt sick to her stomach, afraid she really did see. Not again. "I think you need a doctor. I'm sure you've broken a rib or two and they could do a great deal of damage if not taken care of. Let me see if Mr. Cave is nearby and I'll have him fetch the ship's doctor." She laid the dress on the bed and started to turn away.

"No," Elizabeth said firmly. "I won't have a stranger poking and prodding at me. I'll be fine. Let's get the dress fitted. I don't want to be late tonight. It would so distress Eldon."

"Ma'am, you won't be all right. I've seen something like this before. It will be very painful every time you move, and if the rib is broken, you might cause further damage. You must 46

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have it wrapped." Bree knew what might happen and refused to stand by and watch the gentle woman go through it.

Elizabeth's shoulders slumped. "Oh, very well but not the ship's doctor. There is a woman I met, she seems ever so nice. She's a doctor. Her name is Alice. Alice Leader. Perhaps if Mr. Cave found her?"

Bree dashed to the door and opened it. As luck would have it, the steward glided toward her with a pair of boots in his hand.

"Is there something the lady requires, miss?" he asked with a disapproving glower. Obviously, he thought Bree was getting above herself and expected him to cater to her.

Bree didn't waste time on the etiquette of servant classes.

"Yes, sir. The lady needs a doctor."

His irritation immediately changed to concern. "What's happened? Has she taken ill?" He craned his neck to see past Bree.

"No, she took a bad fall earlier. I think she may have broken a rib or two. She refuses to see the ship's doctor, but she met a woman—a Doctor Leader. Do you know her?"

"Why, yes. She has a double with her husband just down the corridor. I'll see if she's there, and if she isn't, I'll find her straight away."

"Thank you, Mr. Cave." He gave her a look that might have indicated grudging respect, then turned and trotted off.

As he hurried away, Bree shut the door and went back to Elizabeth's side. "He knows the doctor and will fetch her.

Please, won't you lie down?"

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Elizabeth sighed and shook her head, wincing and cradling her ribs with crossed arms. "Oh, my. That does hurt."

"More than a bit, I'd wager." Bree helped the older woman perch carefully on a chair while they waited for the doctor.

"My mother was hurt, er, hurt herself, the same way, and the pain was terrible," Bree said. She couldn't bring herself to tell this sweet woman what had happened after her mother's

"fall." She just knew she wouldn't sit quietly by and watch it all over again.

Since Elizabeth seemed determined to dress for dinner, Bree stepped into the suite's parlor, opened her kit and selected the thread and implements she would need to alter the dress. She spoke over her shoulder. "How long have you and your husband been married, if I'm not being impertinent?"

Elizabeth chuckled softly. "Of course not, my dear. We married three years ago. My first husband, Percy, died seven years ago. It was so sudden. One day he was fine, the next he was gone. Eldon is—was—Percy's older brother. He was such a godsend after Percy died. I don't know how I would have managed the business, and my son just off to university. He courted me quite enthusiastically, asking for my hand several times, but I wasn't ready for another man in my life. Then my business manager disappeared and took quite a lot of money with him. Eldon convinced me, and rightly so, I didn't have a head for business. I needed him to help me, if not for myself, then for my son. It was very inconvenient for him to have to keep running out to The Dell 48

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to help me or explain the intricacies of business. I was being quite unfair. It's much easier for him now."

Bree bit her tongue. Not a word about love—not for her or for him. It was just easier. Bree flashed on the sound of her own father's patronizing voice ridiculing her mother for thinking herself more capable of handling their financial affairs than he. Bree had never met Elizabeth's husband, but it sounded as if Bree's father could have been Eldon's brother instead of Percy. "What was Percy like? Were he and his brother similar?"

"Dear me, no. Percy was such a quiet, unassuming man.

Kind and patient. He had a way about him. The workers adored him. He knew them all by name and asked about their families. Percy insisted I go with him when he visited the factories. He felt I needed to be involved in the business and planned to have our son take over one day. Eldon is very forceful and outspoken. He likes to 'wade right in' as he calls it, and take action without any assistance or interference from anyone else." She shifted on the chair and winced.

"Is your son with you on this trip to help you with the business?" Bree asked, in an attempt to distract Elizabeth from her injury.

"Oh, yes. He studied business at Harvard so he'd be prepared to handle the company, and he's quite brilliant."

Bree smiled at the motherly bias.

"He's twenty-five but Eldon says the board of directors doesn't think he has enough experience yet to take over the reins. That's why I invited Mal to the continent with us this year. Eldon wasn't very happy when he found out that I ...

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well that is to say, when I felt up to discussing the details. He said it was to have been our time alone."

Bree knew what she meant was when she finally got up the nerve. "What business are you in?"

"Textiles and garments. The big mills are in Massachusetts and we have smaller ones in several other places. We manufacture ladies' fashions, mostly in New York. We started coming to Europe last year to attend the new fashion shows in France. Mal heard about them from some friends of his.

Eldon wasn't sure at first, but it's been a wonderful idea."

The unknown term intrigued Bree. "What are fashion shows?"

"Several of the large couturiers in France have them. They present their newest designs in a large room. Young women wearing the costumes walk around so we can see how the gowns fit and drape. It's quite marvelous. It helps us know what fabrics and styles will be popular in Europe this year so we can plan our clothing designs for next year. It takes a year or so for the European designs to make their way across the ocean, you see. We manufacture ready-to-wear clothing, so of course our garments aren't so elaborate, but I've always believed every woman should be able to wear stylish clothes even if she can't afford French couture."

"It sounds to me like you know quite a lot about the business."

Elizabeth gave a tiny, deprecating wave. "Percy used to talk to me about things in the evenings over a glass of wine.

Eldon is too busy. He has a great deal of meetings with 50

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buyers, and travels frequently to make sure our business expands. I often don't see him for days at a time."

"What are the styles this year?" Bree said, but a knock on the door interrupted her. She opened it to find Mr. Cave standing next to a tall, kindly-looking woman with a black leather bag in hand.

"This be Dr. Leader, miss." He bowed to the doctor and inclined his head to Bree before he headed down the corridor.

Bree quickly ushered Dr. Leader into the bedroom, and the woman went straight to Elizabeth. She knelt beside her and asked a series of questions, while she gently examined Elizabeth's side, back and stomach. After a thorough assessment, she pulled several lengths of linen from her bag and carefully wrapped the material around Elizabeth's torso, securing the end with a tiny barbed clip. She stood and said,

"Let's get you to bed."

"Oh, I can't do that. Miss Barry is going to alter my gown and then I have to get ready for dinner with my husband."

An argument ensued as the doctor tried to talk Elizabeth out of her plans, but she relented when she realized Elizabeth's decision was firm. Turning to Bree, Dr. Leader said, "She mustn't move any more than absolutely necessary."

Bree nodded.

"Madam, if you insist on this foolish behavior, I can guarantee you'll be in constant pain." Dr. Leader reached into her bag. She held up a white envelope. "I'll give you some powdered laudanum, but I beg you not to stay out late, and don't have any alcohol. You shouldn't be alone after you take 51

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it, either. I don't know how you'll react. You might wake up disoriented and dizzy and end up causing further damage."

"Well, Eldon certainly can't stay with me. He has several business meetings scheduled after dinner. I'll be fine."

Bree spoke up. "I could sit with you."

Elizabeth regarded her with grateful surprise. "You would do that, my dear? Oh, I am so sorry, I never even enquired as to your first name. Please forgive me."

Bree smiled away the apology. "My name is Bridget.

Please, call me Bree. I haven't any plans tonight, and if you have other gowns you'd like altered, I could do them for you while I'm here."

"It's settled then," the doctor said as she snapped her bag shut. "Take a quarter teaspoon of powder in a glass of water right away. You may have another quarter teaspoon before bedtime if you need it, but not a pinch more."

Bree nodded and accepted the proffered envelope. She walked the doctor to the door where they paused.

"Under no circumstance should you leave her alone. Do you understand?"

Bree looked into Dr. Leader's sharp brown eyes and realized the woman had formed the same conclusion as she about how Elizabeth came to be hurt. "Yes, I do. May I call you if there are problems?"

"Certainly. Send the steward for me at any time. Good night."

Bree shut the door and went to the cabinet against the wall. She poured a draught of water from a pitcher into a cut-glass tumbler. She carefully measured out the prescribed 52

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amount of pain medicine, stirred it into the glass and took it in to Elizabeth, who drank it down without protest.

They sat talking about France for a quarter hour, until Elizabeth said she felt quite a bit better. After first making sure the pins and measuring stick were handy, Bree helped Elizabeth to her feet and gently tugged the gown into place.

The bodice gaped away from the woman's chest and the fabric fell in unbecoming folds to puddle on the floor, like a child playing dress-up. Clearly, she'd lost more than a little weight and was near to skin and bones.

With a nod and smile to reassure a fretful Elizabeth, Bree went to work. She pulled the straps up until the gown hung correctly and pinned them, then took up additional pleats across the bodice and sides until it fit snuggly. She quickly secured the hem and eased the dress off. Bree caught Elizabeth as she tottered, the older woman's elbow knocking Bree's cap askew. It fell to the floor and rolled under a side table as Bree led her to a velvet chaise.

"Thank you, dear. I do feel a bit dizzy," Elizabeth said, a hand on her brow.

"I think the doctor is right. You should stay in, though I know you'd hate to miss the dinner party."

"Oh, it's not that. I never really enjoy these dinners. Eldon insists everyone misses me if I don't attend, but many of the people at table are Eldon's friends or business acquaintances I've not met before. I dislike making small talk with strangers. It seems I'm always on the wrong side of politics, and rarely attend the theater so I don't know which plays are the current rage. Most of his friends aren't interested in 53

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books, but reading is the one thing I do a lot. It's Eldon everyone wants to see. He's very amusing and clever. And handsome. Some of the women, even married ones, are so forward with him I can't believe it. I really don't think anyone even notices if I'm sitting there or not."

Bree expelled the breath she hadn't realized she held. This was too familiar. Having escaped the atmosphere she'd grown up in, she was shocked to find it existed in the thin air of the elite as well. Her own mother, a gentlewoman, had been surrounded by her husband's coarse and often drunken friends—people with whom she had nothing in common. They had followed Bree's father's lead, making his wife miserable in every way possible.

Bree determined to help this time. "I guess we'll have to make you so lovely everyone, including Eldon, will be too busy staring to make silly small talk."

Elizabeth gazed down at her hands and sighed. "I don't know why Eldon married me. I'm lucky he even noticed me with all the beautiful women who flutter around him. I'm so boring and he's so exciting. He has everyone on the edge of their seats, waiting for his next word."

Bree looked closely. The older woman had a great beauty under the lines of sadness. Only a few faint streaks of gray showed in the fine, white-blonde hair. Elizabeth's huge gray eyes were deeply sunken above sculpted cheekbones, her skin flawless. A straight nose perched above wide, full lips.

Her graceful neck had yet to show folds of loose skin. Her type of beauty only improved with age.

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Bree knew she was a total opposite with her mop of auburn hair and spattering of faint freckles, which proclaimed her Irish ancestry.

"We'll just see about that," she said. "When we get done, he'll have eyes for no one but you." Bree hadn't been able to help her own mother. If she aided this woman, perhaps it would help make up for it in some way.

Time slipped away. After assisting Elizabeth to lie down until it was time to dress, Bree set about altering the gown.

She worked feverishly, her fingers flying over the fabric. The big round windows were just beginning to show stars as, with a heavy sigh of relief, Bree tugged a thread to tighten the final knot and clipped the silk with her scissors. She quickly took a few measurements to help her with alterations on the other gowns and laid the dress over her arm. From the bedroom doorway, she peeked in and found Elizabeth awake, her expression dreamy.

"Is it done already? I almost hoped it wouldn't be, but I suppose I mustn't disappoint Eldon."

"Does it matter so much, ma'am?" Bree asked.

Elizabeth nodded and struggled out of bed. Bree hurried to help her. As Bree held the dress up, the older woman seemed to shrink within herself, then sighed and removed her robe.

Bree carefully slipped the dress over her head and did up the line of frog fasteners at the back. She helped Elizabeth into the matching emerald green heeled shoes with jeweled buckles and they stepped over to the large standing mirror.

Elizabeth's gray eyes widened in shock. Where before the dress had made a mockery of her figure, it now enhanced her 55

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slight curves. The tucked bodice pushed her bosom up to show creamy cleavage above the neckline. Billowing fabric fell in graceful folds to skim the floor, the toes of her shoes peeping out.

"Oh, my!" was all Elizabeth said.

Bree gently urged her over to the dressing table and pulled the woman's long hair from the loose knot at the base of her neck. With a sterling-handled brush, she smoothed the flaxen hair back from her high forehead and pulled it into a sleek chignon. She slid in diamond-encrusted combs, which had been lying casually on the table. As she admired the effect in the mirror, Bree considered the simple, elegant style more becoming for Elizabeth's fine, straight hair than the currently popular Gibson up-do.

"Have you any other jewelry to wear?"

"The blue case." Elizabeth gestured to a large, carved burlwood box.

Bree lifted the lid and pulled out a thin enameled case. She flipped it open and gasped at the glistening necklace and matching earrings nestled on white satin. "They're beautiful.

Just like you."

Elizabeth tittered softly as she clipped the earrings on and Bree fastened the necklace's lobster-claw clasp. A triple strand of pearls interspersed with teardrop emeralds and diamonds glowed above the shimmering green silk. The large table-cut emerald pendant ringed by shimmering diamonds and emerald hung heavily between the swell of her breasts.

Their eyes met in the dressing table mirror. Elizabeth smiled 56

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shyly and Bree was gratified by the astonished happiness on the older woman's face.

"Now, are you ready to show off at the captain's table?"

"Oh, yes. Eldon will be so pleased." She carefully turned and clasped Bree's hands. "Thank you so much. I never thought..." Her eyes brimmed with tears.

"Here, now. None of that. Don't go spoil the effect with red, puffy eyes."

Elizabeth dabbed the tears away with an embroidered handkerchief and pushed herself upright with the help of the tabletop and Bree's assistance. "Oh dear. Look at the time.

Eldon will be here any moment." Her brow creased as the woman lapsed into fear of not meeting her husband's expectations—the same expression she'd seen on her mother's face countless times. Bree thought of several appropriate Gaelic curses she'd like to apply to Elizabeth's husband, but kept her silence.

Instead, she said, "What wrap would you like to wear? It will be chilly on deck." Bree walked to the large armoire and opened it. A bounty of fabrics and colors spilled out, and a section of furs filled the corner. A long-haired gray fox matched Elizabeth's eyes and Bree pulled it out, seeing the older woman's fretting prevented her from making the decision on her own.

"This would be lovely with your eyes. And it has a matching muff—what fun! Now, what about a hat?" Bree chattered as Elizabeth watched her with a growing smile.

Hatboxes lined the top of the armoire and, with the help of a side chair, Bree hauled them down one at a time. As she 57

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stepped down off the chair, she caught her heel in her apron hem and tore a section loose. Rather than risk tripping over it again, she slipped it off and folded it over the chair to mend later. In the third hatbox, she found a broad-brimmed hat with fox trim and fan of dyed gray feathers at the crown.

Rosettes of gray satin circled the brim. She quickly fashioned tiny leaves using small pieces of green silk she'd trimmed when altering the gown, adding them to the rosettes. White opera-length gloves in a dressing table drawer completed the outfit.

As Bree put the finishing touches on the hat, the door banged open and a big, blustery man strode into the room.

His ebony hair shone almost blue under the electric lights, distinguished white streaks running back from his temples.

"Well, if this isn't a sight." He looked intently at Elizabeth and the older woman held her breath as she waited for his comments. Surprise flickered across his features. He gave Elizabeth a tiny nod, just enough to bring a flush of happiness to his wife's face. "Have you found a new maid, my dear?" His voice was deep and mellow, but Bree didn't like it all the same.

"Eldon! You're early. We're almost finished," Elizabeth stammered. "This is Bree Barry. She's altering my gowns and helping me dress."

Eldon turned his back to his wife and Bree knew it was on purpose as he gave her a leer that sent shivers down her back. She had never been scrutinized in such a calculating manner, save perhaps by Lord Rothberry that last night.

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"Since Eleanor took off and left you without a maid, I'm glad to see you've found someone who can make you presentable. I dislike all the questions when you show up looking like death warmed over."

Elizabeth blushed and hung her head.

"I can't believe your wife could be anything but lovely, and with her injury, she wasn't able to dress by herself." Bree refused to keep silent. It was all she could do not to snap the words out.

Eldon shot her a penetrating glance then offered a smarmy smile. "Of course I didn't mean it like that. I've been very concerned since she became ill." He gave Elizabeth a long, warning stare. "Some days she can barely drag herself out of bed, and she's gotten rather clumsy as well. I'm happy to see her looking and feeling better. If you've had a hand, I must show you my appreciation in some way."

He hadn't commented on the injury. If he'd been unaware of it, surely he would have asked what happened and expressed some concern about her condition? Bree took a deep breath and bit back words she longed to say, murmuring instead, "There is no need. I am simply performing my duties, and as I said, enjoying it." She directed the last comment to Elizabeth. It seemed to raise the older woman's spirit and she lifted her head, smiling timidly.

"I'll be here when you return from dinner, ma'am. In the meantime, I'll go through your other dresses and see what I can do to fit them for you."

Elizabeth nodded distractedly, her attention centered on her husband's glowering face.

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Someone knocked at the door. Eldon glared at the portal.

Elizabeth seemed frozen in place. Bree hesitated then moved across the room, calling over her shoulder, "I'll get that," as she reached for the latch. She turned to face the door and jerked back. A fist hung in the air in front of her face. She stumbled and would have fallen, but the man who was in the process of knocking on the door lunged forward and captured her in a firm, but gentle, grasp.

"Pardon me, Miss Barry. It seems like I have a penchant for attempting to knock you off your feet. Of course, what I'd really like is to sweep you off your feet."

Bree's jaw dropped as she observed the same handsome man who'd nearly collided with her in the companionway. It dawned on her—Elizabeth's son, Mal. Malcolm DuMont.

Elizabeth had never mentioned her last name. Bree studied his face, noting the slightly sardonic tilt of his eyebrows and hint of a smile. He was clearly a spoiled, rich rake, who thought pretty words would win over anything in a skirt. She closed her mouth with an audible snap. If he thought she would be his next conquest, he could just go to the devil.

Ignoring him, she turned to Elizabeth. "It appears you now have two escorts, ma'am."

"Malcolm, dear, I didn't expect to see you this evening."

Elizabeth's gaze flicked uncertainly from her son's smiling face to her husband's frowning one.

"I decided to have dinner with you after all. And now I see how absolutely lovely you look tonight, I don't believe Eldon deserves to have you all to himself."

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Elizabeth laughed gaily, but Bree saw Eldon's face darken as he directed a fierce glare at his stepson.

Malcolm moved to his mother's side and helped her into the fur coat. Over her shoulder he said, "And what about you, Miss Barry? Will you be joining us for dinner?"

Bree didn't hear any sign of sarcasm in his tone, but she knew, somehow, he was making her the butt of a joke. Surely he recognized her uniform? Then she remembered she wasn't wearing her cap or apron, only the plain dark dress.

Elizabeth gazed at her son in surprise as she slipped her hand into the fur muff. "Oh, yes. Of course." She turned to Bree and said kindly, "Would you like to join us, my dear?"

Of course the woman was trying to be polite and didn't expect to take her seamstress to dinner. Bree deliberately snubbed Malcolm and smiled at Elizabeth. "No, thank you, ma'am. I have a great deal to do tonight. I do hope you enjoy yourself."

Elizabeth pushed the muff high on one arm and took both Bree's hands in hers. "Thank you. You can't possibly know what this means to me."

Bree watched as Elizabeth, flanked by the two tall, muscular men, walked carefully into the hall. The door shut behind them.

She went to the wardrobe and pulled out a selection of gowns. Bree closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against carved wooden door and muttered, "Oh yes, I can, Mrs.

DuMont. I know exactly how much it means to you. If only I could have given mother those same few moments of happiness." She sighed and went to work, knowing it would 61

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be late when she finished and she'd have little sleep before it was time to return to Mr. Thorpe's domain.

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