Rose forced a smile and blinked, hoping that would pass for enthusiasm. “Um… how impressive!”
The past hour, sixty minutes that felt much closer to a decade, had been an unending lecture on the moral ills of New York, punctuated by thinly veiled jabs at the poor of the city and non sequitur stories of his time in university. Her presence seemed to be an afterthought; Stewart asked for her opinion, but more often than not she was so lost in her own mind that she could only manage a weakhow lovelybefore he was off again. He’d been thrilled when Rose suggested a visit to his office.
Stewart puffed out his chest. “Mr. Linden’s work seems fun, all socials and handshakes, but it’s a lot of paperwork, as you can see. You probably didn’t know that.”
A flash of indignation lit in her belly, but Rose covered it with a giggle.Play the part. Do this for Ben.“I had no idea.” She stepped closer to Stewart and fluttered her lashes before gesturing to the cluttered desk. “So what is all this? I admit I haven’t the faintest idea what being someone as important as Mr. Linden entails.”
He gave a world-weary sigh, as though the weight of the universe sat on his sloped shoulders. “Correspondence with the mayor and governor, lists of supporters, letters from constituents. He’s been drafting a new series of editorials to include in theSun…”
Rose straightened as her eyes darted over the desk. “Mr. Linden must have so many supporters. Why does he need to keep track of them?”
He gave her a glance reminiscent of when her piano teacher was about to scold her for neglecting to practice her scales. “He needs to know how his donors stand on various issues, such as the vote next week. Not everyone sees the value of Mr. Linden’s upcoming bill, so he spends time persuading them to support him, both with votes and with cash. Principles are only so good if he lacks the purse to make them reality.”
Her pulse thumped hard in her veins as her eyes greedily scanned the papers until she saw what looked like a list of names with a date on the top.September 26. The day of the meeting. Her fingers twitched as a thrill electrified her, and she gripped her hands in her skirts to still them. “What is that?” She pointed towards a framed letter on the opposite wall. “It looks important.”
“Oh, nothing,” Ruffgate said with a casual shrug that was so practiced, Rose wondered if he’d perfected it in his mirror. “Only a commendation from President McKinley, God rest his soul.”
She pressed her palm to her chest. “Thepresident?Is that something like the king?”
He released a bemused chuckle, and while Rose’s stomach churned at her inane remark, she hoped he would take the bait.
“Let me read it to you and see what you think.”
The moment his back was turned, Rose shot out her hand and snagged the list, waiting until Ruffgate cleared his throat to fold the paper and shove it in her pocket. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears and her knees trembled, as though she was already running, desperate to bring her prize back to Brooklyn.
Ben would be so proud, so excited to see what she did. With this list—assuming it was indeed what they needed—she would truly earn her place in the suffrage society. She wouldn’t be forgotten or cast aside. With this action, Rose wouldbelong, be invaluable for once.
Unable to wait a moment longer, Rose feigned a gasp and Ruffgate turned with furrowed brows, looking more irritated at the interruption than concerned with her wellbeing. “I nearly forgot. I’m due to meet a friend at—” she sent up a silent prayer for the mantel clock that sat just beside him, “—half past two.” She pursed her lips and lowered her gaze. “What a shame I must leave. I was enjoying myself so much.”
The smug smile was back on his face. “It’s for the best, I suppose. As you can see, I have quite a bit of work to do. Shall I walk you—”
“No need!” Her voice was shrill as she backed towards the door, the paper heavy in her pocket. Could he hear the crumple as she moved? “I had a delightful time.”
“As did I.” Ruffgate approached her and took her hands, and Rose’s heart stopped. Did he know what she’d done? Had his eyes passed over the desk and immediately noted what was missing? “I wondered if I may pay a call on your family, although you haven’t yet told me who your people are.” He took in a sharp breath and exhaled. “I would be delighted if we could take our friendship to the next logical step.”
Her lips parted. “Oh. Um, I—”
“I know this is unexpected, considering my importance in the upcoming campaign,” he stammered, his cheeks flushing.
Rose felt a shock of pity for him and squeezed his hands. “I’ll be returning to England soon,” she lied, the statement landing in her gut like a lead weight. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
Ruffgate blinked and dropped her hands. “I understand, although I am disappointed. Well, I suppose you need to be going.” He stepped away briskly and settled behind Linden’s desk as though it was his own as he began sorting papers.
She stood dumbly for a moment before realizing she had been dismissed. As she backed out the door and closed it behind her, Rose experienced the strangest sense of melancholy. Of course she did not want to be courted by Ruffgate, but was she so easily forgotten that, the moment a marriage was off the table, she would be cast aside?
As she pushed into the early afternoon sunshine and raised a hand to hail a cab, her spirits lifted, knowing she would soon return to Brooklyn. She would shed the borrowed silk dress and gloves, braid her hair, and set about to support 138 Willow. Perhaps Abby would let her help with a new recipe, or she could assist Cass in preparing bandages—
“Rose?”
She froze and spun, squinting at the man walking down the sidewalk towards her before breaking into a grin. “Timothy? What are you doing here?”
Her friend swept her into a hug that was wholly inappropriate for anyone but a British aristocrat without a care for American society. “I was worried sick about you,” he mumbled before putting her down. He placed his hands on her shoulders as though he feared she would run away. “Where have you been?”
She winced. “We should find someplace to talk. It’s quite a story.”
“I’m desperate for a decent cup of tea, and I have yet to find a suitable brew in this godforsaken land.” He shuddered, and a swell of affection bloomed in her breast.
“We may have to make do with coffee, but I know where we can get the best pie in town.”
