A Matter of Principle (14 page)

“
That’s the one. Seems to dig up the most astounding items. Prints ‘em, too. True or not!” Winston’s regard returned to Nicolas. “You seem a decent fellow. Beautiful wife. Truly beautiful. Hate to see you tangled in that web.”

“
Thank you, sir, for the warning. I shall do my best.”

Winston lifted his wine glass to Nicolas. “To a well-fought campaign.”

“
Here, here.” Nicolas touched his glass to the other man’s. “And may the right man win!”



“
I wish I wasn’t so thin,” Rodger complained, gripping the post of the bed.

“
Stop whining, Merry! You wouldn’t fit the dresses if you were a sow!” Lesley pulled the corset laces tight and tied them, giving Rodger a shapely waist and curved hip.

“
But I’d have a semblance of a bosom! This is a hard role to play with all my ‘assets’ made of cornmeal.”

“
Cornmeal has weight and it shifts,” Lesley repeated his mantra. “It feels real enough under all those layers. Now come on.”

Rodger stepped into a tiered petticoat and tied it at his waist. Then he swam under lavender silk ruching, careful not to smudge his make-up, and resurfaced through the high neckline of the gown. While Lesley secured a blonde wig, he tugged long kid gloves to his elbows.

Standing, he turned slowly while Lesley eyed him critically.

“
I am sick with envy, Merry.”

“
Why?” Rodger smiled.

“
You will have every man there falling at your feet.” Lesley fanned himself with a flattened hand. “Oh, to be able to experience that for myself!”

“
Why, darling,” Rodger spoke in a soft falsetto and fluttered his lashes. “Certainly every ‘woman’ here wishes she was with you tonight!”

“
Don’t tease.”

Rodger took Lesley’s arm and squeezed it. “But you’re right. Flirting with all those men is wicked fun. Especially when I find one who enjoys an escort with—how shall I put it?—a more masculine bent?”

Lesley flashed a rueful smile. “Do you have your ring?”

“
No… Oh there it is.” Rodger slid a jeweled compartment ring over the glove. He flipped it open to make sure the powder was there.

“
Will you be late?”

“
If I’m lucky!” Rodger chirped and pulled a fur cape from the wardrobe. “What name shall I use tonight?”

“
Hm… Have you used Heather?”

“
No. Heather what?”

“
Heather Green.”

“
Good! Very simple, hard to trace.” Rodger patted Lesley’s cheek. He spoke in the sweet falsetto, “Wish me luck!”



Once dinner was nearly over, the Master of Ceremonies stood and introduced Nicolas and Winston. Each man was given a few moments to introduce themselves, and then the floor was opened for a question and answer session. The first round of questions was for Nicolas, the lesser-known candidate. Men shouted questions from their tables.

“
So you’re a farmer from Cheltenham?”

“
I don’t farm, other than to meet the needs of my family.”

“
Tell us about your family!”

“
I am married and have two children, an eight year-old son and a two-year-old daughter.”

“
But she’s not your first wife?”

Nicolas sucked a breath. “No. My first wife died birthing our son.”

“
When did you remarry?”

“
In December. Of… 1819.”

“
That’s but two years ago.” The tone was accusing.

“
There were extenuating circumstances that delayed my second wedding. But I was married before my daughter was born.”

“
When, exactly, was she born?”

“
January 12
^th
in the year 1820.”

“
Wasn’t your wife married to someone else?”

Nicolas felt sweat gather on his brow, but he refused to wipe it. He saw Lily standing against a wall with another woman. Why did her notice her now, of all times?

He met the questioner’s’ eyes. “Yes. But her husband was unfaithful and she divorced him.”

“
Seems like she was the unfaithful one!” A titter swirled through the room. Lily and the other woman bent their heads together.

“
Are we here to discuss marital fidelity? Or my credentials as your representative?”

“
What
are
your credentials, Hansen?”

With a sigh of relief, Nicolas launched into a brief recounting of his life in the Territory. He and his committee had decided to leave out the reason for his trip to Norway, and simply mention that he made a pilgrimage of sorts to his ancestral home.

He focused on his education and experiences here, in the States. The tide turned then, and the questions lobbed his way were more civil.

When his portion of the inquisition ended, he sat and focused on what Beckermann had to say. He took notes so that later he would remember what points he might work with or against. Occasionally he caught Rickard’s eye and sent silent communications to his closest friend. A slight nod acknowledged the receipt.



“
That was brutal!” the woman by her side whispered to Lily. “Do you know him?”

“
Yes, actually. I know him quite well. His first wife was my sister.” Lily watched for the expected response and was gratified to receive it.

Her eyes rounded and she turned to face Lily. “Oh, my! So you know the details about the second wife?”

“
That hussy? I do, indeed. Nicolas and I were supposed to be married. And then she showed up out of nowhere.”

“
He broke your engagement?”

Lily had not actually said they were engaged, but that detail was unimportant. “He did. I was heartbroken, as you might well imagine.”

“
Of course!” The blonde girl’s eyes trailed back to Nicolas. “He’s so handsome…”

“
Yes. Anyway. When Nicolas discovered she was married, he locked her husband up in his root cellar and sent my brother to procure her a divorce.”

The girl’s gaze returned to Lily. “Are you teasing me?”

Lily lifted one slender, lace-gloved hand. “I swear it’s true. And she was already
enceinte.
”

“
Was the baby his?”

“
He claims it was. I have my doubts. But what can I do?” Lily shrugged, displaying her best innocent expression.

“
The cad! And he got away with all of this?”

“
Barely. He was arrested in January of 1820 on charges of kidnapping, rape and adultery. He went to trial, right here in St. Louis.”

“
He did?” the girl’s voice cracked a little. She cleared her throat delicately. “What happened?”

Lily heaved a large, suffering sigh. “He was found
not
guilty.”

“
Oh.”

“
I was so very destroyed by it all, that I quit the Territory and moved home to be with my mother in North Carolina. I married there. I married well. Very well.” Lily wiggled her fingers to show off the ring that she wore on the outside of her glove.

“
Good for you, darling!”

Music began, cutting off their conversation. Lily turned back to the room, searching for Nicolas. She saw him, but Vincent Barr was headed in her direction, cutting off her path. Lily directed his attention to the pretty blonde she had been talking to.

“
Vincent, have you met—” Lily blinked. “I don’t know your name!”

“
Heather. Heather Green.” She curtsied and her gaze traveled over Vincent’s well-tailored clothing and trim muscularity.

“
Vincent Barr.” He bowed from the waist. “My pleasure, Miss.”

“
Perhaps she would care to dance?” Lily was already stepping away. Vincent looked at Heather.

“
I would be delighted,” she answered. Grinning, he led her to the dance floor.

Lily moved quickly toward her prey, trying to reach him before another woman trapped him. He stood in a ring of men, discussing what, she didn’t care. Lily stepped right through the cluster and took Nicolas by the arm.

“
Would you submit to dancing with an old friend?” She batted her eyes and dimpled her cheeks, causing the men to stop their debate and laugh at her joke.

“
Good evening, Lily. Where is your husband?” He emphasized the last word.

“
The poor dear is not up to this sort of exertion, I’m afraid. He hoped you might entertain me in his stead?” More dimples, more fluttering. A squeeze of the elbows and a deepening of cleavage.

Nicolas begged the other men’s leave, and took Lily to the floor. As he moved her around the room, she caught envious glances from other men, along with bits of conversation.

“—
the wife?”

“
Sister-in-law.”

“—
MY sister-in-law looked like that!”

Lily held him, firm and close. She looked up into his eyes and laughed, even when he said nothing. And when the dance was over, she kissed him. Hard. On the mouth. In front of everyone.

Chapter Eleven

January 3, 1822

St. Louis

The Candidates’ Ball

By Herbert Q. Percival

What an evening for surprises! I assumed all along, that it would be the misdeeds of warehouse and dock owner, Mr. Winston Beckermann, which would provide the most salacious gossip for this year’s election.

I was so very wrong.

Certainly bribery, extortion and embezzlement have their place, and I promise to get to them in due time. But first, let us take a look at the deliciously unsavory tale of Nicolas Hansen. When pressed at the Ball, Mr. Hansen readily admitted that he was a bit preemptory in his relations with his current wife, she being divorced, and their daughter born a scant month following the nuptials.

But he failed to mention a broken engagement with his first wife’s younger sister, who was thrown over in favor of the divorcee. He also left out the element where he locked her first husband in his root cellar, while dispatching a minion to procure her divorce.

As one would hope, all of these misdeeds did land Mr. Hansen in jail right here in St. Louis, where he was charged with kidnapping, rape and adultery. The judge was inexplicably unmoved, however, and the charges dismissed.

Do I smell bribery in this story as well?

In any case, Mr. Hansen seemed to enjoy himself at the ball, dancing repeatedly with the sister-cum-displaced fiancée, the current wife being ‘indisposed’ for the evening.

And I thought the bumpkin would be boring.

Nicolas threw the paper across the room, scattering the pages.

“
Vincent!” he bellowed. The secretary appeared at the bedroom door. “Make me an appointment with Nelson Ivarsen immediately! I’ll provide him breakfast!”

“
Yes, sir.” The man disappeared behind the closed door.

Sydney picked up the newspaper and attempted to re-assemble it. Nicolas tore it from her hands. He glared at her.

“
It’s nothing but muckraking! He’s trying to show me in the worst possible light!”

She straightened and glared right back. “Do I not have the right to see what is being said about my husband?”

“
No.”

“
No?” Sydney repeated, incredulous. “Methinks thou dost protest too much. What are you hiding from me?”

“
Nothing! It’s only the way he wrote it! It presents things in such a manner as to discredit me. And you,” he added, grudgingly.

“
Then I do have the right to know.”

Nicolas considered her, jaw clenched, the white scar along his cheek startling against his furiously red face. He thrust the crumple of paper and ink towards her. “I warned you.”

Sydney found the article and read it silently.

Then she climbed back into the bed and pulled the covers to her shoulder. She lay still on her side, one hot tear leaking from the corner of her closed eye and dropping from the bridge of her nose onto the pillowcase.

“
Min presang
?” Nicolas’s voice was soft and concerned.

She opened her eyes. “Yes?”

Nicolas walked around the bed and squatted beside it, his eyes on her level. His long blond hair fell in his face and he brushed it back. “Are you still unwell?”

She reached one hand to him. “I’m unwell from my course, yes. The article didn’t help, to be sure, but I would much rather know.”

“
Are you angry with me?”

“
No, Nicolas. Perhaps annoyed, however, that you danced so often with Lily.”

“
I was only hoping to soften her claim against Rickard.”