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Emily smiled at the compliment the maid gave her every time she fixed her hair. Her eyes roved downward at the new gown. The evening dress that had afforded her time to spend with Hunter. How she wished he was attending the Ratchford’s ball tonight. She closed her eyes, imagining him stepping up to her in full formal wear, and extending his hand toward her to lead her to the dance floor.
Fighting the unwanted tears, she smiled at Maria through the mirror. It was such a strain keeping up pretenses with the staff, even with her maid. There was no one in the house she could relax around. They all reported to Louis and he let her know that.
“Would you like your linen shawl? It would go very well with your dress.” Maria held out the powder blue garment with the colorful silk screen flowers on it.
“Yes, that one is fine. Thank you, Maria.”
The deep blue silk mousseline gown had a darker blue band about the bottom of the skirt with narrower strips around the bodice. After a final glance in the mirror, Emily took her shawl and gloves from Maria, and left to join Louis downstairs.
He was sipping a glass of whiskey when she entered the drawing room.
“Would you care for a sherry, my dear?” Oh so polite and polished when he wanted to be. Now that she knew he’d at one time been a common bank robber, it was hard to contain her sneer at his pretense. Hopefully Hunter would be able to finish his investigation, and have Louis put safely behind bars. Then she could begin her life anew.
“No thank you.” She avoided his eyes as she pulled on her gloves.
“My dear, I sense a change in you. Perhaps your foray outside of my protection harmed you in some way?”
“Whatever are you talking about, Louis?”
She jumped when he slammed the glass down and strode over to her, gripping her upper arm. He leaned in close, the smell of whiskey wafting over her, making her eyes water. “You’ve yet to tell me what it was, exactly, you did while you were working as a common serving girl in Guthrie.” He pulled her closer, tightening his grip, the pain shooting up her arm to her neck. “And don’t think I plan to merely forget about it. You will tell me one day.”
“There is nothing to tell. I served customers. That is all.” She hated the breathlessness of her voice.
He released her, the force almost tossing her backward. After tugging on the cuffs of his evening jacket, he flicked invisible lint from his lapel. “I think not, my dear. But I will find out. Trust me.” He smiled at her and extended his arm as if he had not just hurt her. “Are you ready, my love?”
God, she hated him. Since Hunter had come into her life, she’d felt stronger, allowing herself to experience more anger than fear. How she would love to spit in his face and march out the front door.
Not yet.
Martin brought the automobile to a rolling stop in front of the brightly lit mansion of Mr. and Mrs. Victor Ratchford on Seawall Boulevard. Not too far, she noted, from where she and Hunter had had their picnic.
A kernel of fear lodged in her stomach at the thought that anyone looking out the window of the mansion might have seen her and Hunter. A Ratchford servant helped them from the vehicle and escorted them up the stairs to the entrance.
After greeting the host and hostess, they entered the ballroom, which had been tastefully decorated in a fall décor. Large displays of autumn flowers were tucked into each corner, and set on every open space. The scent, combined with women’s perfumes and men’s hair tonic, almost choked her.
There had to be over two hundred guests crowded into a room not built for a group that large. Most of Galveston’s high society, including judges, politicians, and affluent businessmen made up the guest list. All the wives were bedecked in jewels which reflected their wealth and status in the community.
Louis escorted her to a group of women, smiling and nodding as they passed friends and acquaintances. “I will come by later for a dance with the most beautiful woman here.” He bent and kissed her hand before leaving her with a smoldering look.
“Oh, my. Your husband is just so romantic.” Mrs. Stevenson sighed as Louis turned and walked away. “How lucky you are to have such a devoted man. And so handsome, too.” She nudged Emily with a smirk on her face. “I’m sure he keeps you happy in the bedroom.”
Emily had to fight to keep the bile rising at the back of her throat from decorating the stupid woman’s gown. If she revealed exactly what it was that Louis did in the bedroom, the woman would most likely scream, and then faint dead away. She was almost tempted to tell her.
She spent most of her time chatting with the ladies, none of whom were close friends because Louis didn’t allow it. One or two older men asked for a dance, which she complied with. Louis didn’t mind her dancing as long as the gentleman was at least three times her age and his belly kept them apart.
By the end of the second hour, however, her feet hurt, she was thirsty, but the room was far too crowded to fight her way to the refreshment table, and all she wanted was to go home.
From the corner of her eye she saw Louis wending his way through the crowd. He was heading in her direction, and seemed to be speaking to someone behind him. At last he edged through the remaining few people in front of her.
“My dear, I would like you to meet one of my new investors.” He turned and said to his companion, “My wife, Mrs. Emily Smith.”
Emily’s eyes grew wide, and she swallowed a giggle as she slowly extended her arm to Hunter.
He offered a noncommittal smile and took her hand. “Mrs. Smith. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Chapter 12
Hunter hoped to hell Emily didn’t faint dead away right there in front of him. When he’d managed to wrangle an invitation to the event through his Rangers connections, he’d had no way to warn her he’d be attending.
