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15
Leo slid his gaze around the party goers swilling champagne as if it were water. They were all expensively dressed, their clothing as fine as anything Leo had seen society wear in London. He’d heard some female patrons of Elysium decry the fashions and poor taste of their cousins in America, but Leo found no evidence of that here. The entire room fairly reeked of wealth and riches. Nothing, it seemed, could put a damper on Manhattan society’s gaiety; not a fire which had destroyed parts of the city the year before Georgina had wed Masterson, nor the near-catastrophic financial collapse that had followed.
Leo appreciated resilience. And overindulgence. He did own a gambling hell and pleasure palace, after all.
New York City, particularly Manhattan, had little in common with London other than the massive amounts of people clogging the streets. The crowds were familiar. The smell of so many bodies being pushed into much too small a space. A plethora of languages met his ears, most he didn’t recognize, but he was familiar with the lilt of the Irish because his mother had possessed the same sound to her speech.
The island of Manhattan wasn’t large, but there was still plenty of room for streets and buildings as the city expanded north. Everything about New York was raw. New. No centuries of breeding. No tedious customs in place for hundreds of years. No titles. Many of the wealthiest gentlemen in the city were self-made, of lackluster origin, and armed with only raw ambition and a work ethic. That wasn’t to say there wasn’t an upper class firmly in place. The evidence of their existence crowded the marble floor around him. Old Dutch and English families mingled with the dreaded newly monied citizens, like the Rutherfords, Georgina’s family.
The future, as Leo often told Tony, wasn’t in tenants and the rent they paid to titled landowners. Or in the landowners themselves. It was in gentlemen like Georgina’s father, Jacob Rutherford. In factories. Railways. Textile mills. Gambling hells and pleasure palaces were incredibly amusing and vastly profitable, but Leo didn’t see himself standing on Elysium’s second-floor landing into his dotage.
Particularly not given recent events.
Leo had spent the last month since his arrival studying and noting everyone and everything in New York. Georgina loved this place, and he wanted to understand why. He didn’t intentionally hide his presence in Manhattan, but neither did he announce it. Tonight would change all that.
His attendance at the grand opening of the Rutherford opera house wasn’t because Leo was enamored of opera, though he did enjoy a good Italian soprano. His first mistress, Lucia, had been an opera singer. Lovely woman, though she had a tendency for the dramatic. Tried to stab him when he ended things.
Nor was he here to gasp in awe at the ornate building done in gray stone, replete with marble and gold fixtures. The sweeping, majestic interior, painted in soothing tones of pale cream and adorned with expensive landscapes, perfectly complimented the glass dome stretching above his head with its view of the night sky, complete with dozens of sparkling stars.
Magnificent. Truly.
The champagne was nicely chilled. The oysters delicious.
Still, not enough reason to attend an event which would start with dancing and culminate in a performance of Rossini’sLa gazza ladra.
Strangehe’d never learned Italian.
No, Leo’s only purpose in appearing tonight among Manhattan’s elite was Georgina. The bloody opera house was named for her family, and Cordelia Rutherford, Georgina’s mother, was the hostess and patroness.
Georgina was certain to be in attendance.
Leo had been a guest at a half-dozen or so events since he’d arrived. Dinner parties. Small gatherings in which he’d been introduced to an incredible number of lovely, young ladies. Not once did Georgina appear. Frustrated that his quarry remained elusive, Leo made very discreet inquiries. Luckily, the Rutherfords were well known, and there was no end to the whispers about them.
Jacob Rutherford was respected and often mentioned in the same breath with Mr. Astor, among others. Not necessarily a compliment, Leo soon learned. Still, connections to the Rutherfords were sought after, despite their lineage extending only as far back as the docks lining the harbor. Sadly, money and boldness could only get you so far when you were the son of a former barge owner.
Leo really didadoreAmericans.
Conveniently, it seemed Georgina had become embroiled in some sort of scandal, and Jacob Rutherford had found a way to rid himself of a troublesome daughter and garner a title in his family at the same time. Leo already didn’t like Rutherford, and he had yet to meet him.
Leo spent quite a bit of time in Manhattan’s finer clubs and restaurants, listening more than talking, learning who was important and who was not. Jacob Rutherfordwasimportant. His shipping company, the third-largest in New York, had started with one small barge, manned by Amos Rutherford, Jacob’s father. Amos had sailed up and down the East and Hudson rivers loaded with goods to sell or trade. One barge became several. When the Erie Canal was built, Amos’s business had expanded. The barges had turned into ships. Rivers into oceans. Warehouses bearing the Rutherford name soon lined the harbor. Amos was affluent at this point, but it wasn’t until his son Jacob entered the China trade that the family reached a summit of riches previously unknown. The Rutherfords were now one of the wealthiest families in New York, possibly in America.
The story of Georgina’s family riveted Leo. Her pedigree started with a barely literate barge owner, who had been her grandfather. No wonder she was so bloody defiant.
Leo peered over his glass to regard the elegant blonde across the room. Cordelia Rutherford was a slender, graceful woman with hair so blonde it gleamed white. Her fingers fluttered at the servants circling the room, who all hurried to do her bidding. Diamonds sparkled at her ears and throat. A few twinkled in her hair. She was a stunning woman, attracting the admiration of many of the gentlemen in the room. Particularly the one hovering by her elbow, who was not Jacob Rutherford.
Georgina had rarely spoken of her parents to Leo, only saying she didn’t get along with them. She’d mentioned her sister, Lilian, and a cousin, Ben, both of whom she spoke of with great affection.
And no one, since he’d been in New York, had mentioned Lady Masterson having a child.
“Mr. Murphy.” A pretty, dark-haired young lady approached him. “I’m so happy you took advantage of Father’s invitation to join us this evening.”
Miss Ann Schuller, peacock blue skirts floating about her ankles, took his arm with a flirtatious batting of her eyes. “I’m sure it can’t compare to the events you’ve attended in London, but I do think it’s a very fine party, nonetheless. Don’t you agree?”
Leo gave her one of his most charming smiles, the sort he used on chattering women he wished to quiet.
A lovely shade of rose bloomed on Miss Schuller’s cheeks.
“Undoubtedly.” Leo kept his tone very clipped, sounding aristocratic, much like his brother. He’d found the accent worked wonders here, which was highly amusing. He planned to use the snobby, patrician tone with Jacob Rutherford when they finally met.
