Contract to Wed (2 page)

Chapter Three

December 1891

Jolene walked through the Parker
House hotel lobby to the entrance to the dining rooms. This was one of her
favorite places. She loved the elegance of the Persian rugs and the high-backed,
tufted leather chairs and the artwork on the walls. It felt like Landonmore. The
staff was attentive without being cloying, and she was known here. She and
Turner had dined here on many occasions as guests of business associates and
others, such as the Governor, Oliver Ames. As she approached the entrance, the
maître d came to her.

“Mrs. Crenshaw. How delighted we are to see you,” he said
quietly. “Will you be dining with us today, ma’am?”

No matter that it was highly unusual for a woman to be in a
hotel lobby alone, even midday, and still in mourning, he had come out from
behind his post and greeted her before she would be standing alone in an entry
way with all the diners to see her. She rewarded him with a rare smile. “I am
glad to see you as well, James. I’ll be dining alone.”

“Certainly, Mrs. Crenshaw. Allow me to show you to your
table.”

Heads turned as Jolene made her way through the dining room.
She wondered if they stared because her dress, with its cinched waist and
elegant embroidery, was stylish and beautiful, even being the blackest black
fabric the seamstress could find and made her fair skin and blonde hair stand
out in stark contrast. Or that some of them had attended the Guild Ball and
heard the rumors about her.

Just as she was seated and the waiter handed the starched
linen napkin to her, she heard a familiar voice and looked up. Calvin Billings
was seated at a table nearby.

“Mr. Fellows has sent me a note saying he will not be able
to join me after all, so I’ll be ordering straight away,” he said to the
waiter. As he spoke he looked directly at Jolene. He smiled and nodded. “Mrs.
Crenshaw.”

“Mr. Billings,” she replied with a nod. Without thinking,
perhaps because she was feeling a bit wounded from events of late, she
continued. “I’ve just been seated, Mr. Billings. If you haven’t ordered, perhaps
you’d care to join me.”

Calvin Billings held her gaze, folded his newspaper, and
came to her table. “Thank you, Mrs. Crenshaw. I’m not fond of eating alone.”
The waiter took their order and left. “How are you doing, Jolene?” Calvin
asked.

“If you are wondering why I’m eating at the Parker House by
myself, you may just come out and ask.”

Calvin chuckled. “I’ve long ago stopped asking my wife why
she does what she does, as she just looks at me as if I’m the stupidest person
in Boston. And you may be in no mood to be questioned by an attorney. If I am
right, you have had your fill of attorneys and bookkeepers during the month
since I saw you last.”

“You are right about that much, Calvin. I have had my fill.”

“You are looking well, though, and considering all, that is
a triumph,” Calvin said as began to eat his soup.

“I am exhausted, truth be told,” she said. She had no idea
why this man brought out confidences from within her. But he did. She trusted
him, which was an odd thought. She didn’t wonder about his motives or if he was
manipulating her in some way. She believed Calvin and Eugenia to be the oddity
amongst Boston society. They were sincere.

“Hardly surprising with your father’s investigations of
Turner’s will. It’s difficult to put it behind you, I imagine,” he said.

Jolene looked up at him. “I’m not sure I will ever put it
behind me, Calvin. I’m not sure others will let me.”

“What are your advisors telling you?”

“My man of business, Mr. Dentraub, is telling me to sell Landonmore
immediately. The cost for staff and upkeep is nearly twelve-thousand dollars a
month. My father is telling me that he will yet find a way to recover my fortune,
or at least half my fortune; however, Mr. Harton has informed me privately that
there is little to be done.”

“Mr. Harton is correct, Jolene. It is very unlikely that
Turner’s will would be over-turned and could take years in court. Have you seen
any alternatives to Landonmore?”

“Father is paying the bills for the time being, but I do not
like the arrangement. I have asked Mr. Dentraub to find a smaller residence for
me. He has recommended I look for something that will only require three or
four staff members to manage it, as opposed to the thirty-five necessary to
keep Landonmore running. Perhaps with just six or seven bedrooms. It will be
quite a change for me as I went directly from Willow Tree to Landonmore.”
Jolene leaned forward. “Do they name homes that have only six or seven
bedrooms? Or will I just reside at a street number?”

“We shall see, won’t we? You do know that there will be
monies available for the expenses of your move?”

“Yes,” Jolene said. “Apparently Turner anticipated my
reduction in means in detail to specify that amount of money for just that
event.”

“What will you do with the New York house?”

“I’m hoping to keep it,” Jolene said. She looked up at
Calvin. “I have such wonderful memories of young William there that I hate to
see another family living in it. Although I suppose I will sell it if
necessary.”

Calvin nodded and then brightened. “Eugenia and I were
unable to attend last week’s Guild Ball but heard it was another rousing
success. No doubt due to your guidance that you selflessly gave during this
upsetting time.”

Jolene laid down her fork and smiled tightly. “Really,
Calvin? Was this entire conversation meant to gather more gossip of my fall
from grace?”

“What do you mean?” he said. “My apologies if I’ve upset you,
but I truly do not know what you mean.”

Jolene took a deep breath. After all, she was the one to
invite Calvin to have luncheon with her, and it was doubtful that he and Eugenia
were privy to the same gossip as the rest of her and Turner’s crowd. But still,
the mention of it stung. “Perhaps I spoke too soon. There was, you see, a
report that filtered through the Guild Ball’s guests concerning Turner’s will
and my portion of it.” She looked up and smiled. “At first, I could not
understand the strained conversations and long silences in my company, and
truthfully thought that perhaps some were just uncomfortable with the whole
idea of death and therefore did not know what to say to a widow so close in age
to themselves. But I overheard a conversation where it all became plain to me.
They did not know what to say to one of their own who was suddenly destitute.
By the end of the evening, I was convinced they thought my poverty may rub off
on them if we stood too closely.”

“I certainly hope that you know that all of our dealings
were in the strictest confidences.”

She nodded. “This was of my own making, Calvin. I told my
oldest, and who I thought was my dearest friend, of my changed circumstances.
She wasted no time spreading this information. In fact, that is the reason I am
here today. The Guild Society women are here at the Parker House for the annual
after-the-ball meeting to elect the next chair. I’m hoping to time my exit to
pass my oldest and dearest friend, Lenora Gladfoote, and be able to
congratulate her on her election as the Guild Ball chairwoman.”

Calvin smiled wryly. “Et tu, Brute?”

Calvin’s joke had made the scheme she had repeated so often
to herself and planned so seriously to seem silly and, maybe, beneath her.
“Well, I must be going,” she said as she stood. “Thank you for a lovely
afternoon. Please send Eugenia my best wishes.”

Calvin stood and took her outstretched hand. “It was my
pleasure.”

* * *

Mr. Dentraub had just left, and
Jolene sat behind her desk, sketches of three homes laid out in front of her. They
were terribly small by Landonmore standards, but one, in particular, she was
fond of although it had a major drawback. It was not in Boston proper, which
would make it difficult for her to regain her standing amongst her social set.
She leaned back in her chair and paused. She had thought and rethought this
until she did not know what to do. Did she want to regain her old life and all
its routines?
Could
she regain that life? Would she have the income for
the wardrobes and the entertaining required to restore her respectability
amongst her peers?

One solution had presented itself a few days before when Mr.
Abrams had called on her and asked her to marry him. He was thirty years older
than she and had long ago lost his teeth. He had made his money, loads of
money, in the railroads, but he’d never shed his rough edges from when he began
as a coal boy in his youth, and therefore had not been able to fit into Boston
society. He was certain an alliance between the two of them would solve both of
their problems. She would have access to his considerable wealth, and he would
have Jolene to propel him into the inner circles. And he found her most
attractive.

She thanked him for his offer, and with a steely countenance
withheld her repulsion of his person. After all, it may be necessary for her to
sacrifice herself to a marriage again, in order to regain what she’d lost. She
was to give her answer to him in five days.

But did she want it anymore?
Did she want her life
back enough to accept Mr. Abrams?
Jolene did not know the answer to those
questions, and if she did not want it, then what
did
she want? For
certain, she wished she were miles and miles away and able to begin again. Oh,
to be twenty and know what she knew now.

Her butler opened the door to the morning room. “Mr. and
Mrs. Billings are inquiring if you are at home, ma’am?”

“Show them in.” She stood when they came in the room,
wondering why they would be visiting her now. Her luncheon with Calvin had been
weeks ago. “Please. Have a seat. Have refreshments brought in, Fitz.”

Calvin Billings was a conservative-looking man of medium
height and build with thinning hair. His wife, Eugenia, was taller, and wider
as well, and was quite the flamboyant dresser. They made for an odd-looking
couple, one which she and Lenora had joked about many times over the years.

“Thank you for seeing us,” Calvin said and looked at Eugenia.

“Oh yes,” she said in her high-pitched voice. “Thank you for
seeing us.”

They exchanged pleasantries, and Eugenia admired Jolene’s
choices in furniture and decorations. Finally Calvin said, “Eugenia has
something to discuss with you. Although I believe it is a fool’s errand.”

She had a thousand details to attend to, including making up
her mind about her future, but Calvin had been kind to her twice, so she tamped
down her impatience and turned her attention to Eugenia.

“Well,” Eugenia said. “I have a brother, you see, who lives
in Texas. His name is Maximillian Shelby. We call him Max, of course.” She
faltered and looked at her husband.

“Go ahead, Eugenia,” Calvin said. “I promised I would bring
you, but I told you I wouldn’t be part of this scheme of yours.”

“My father is a successful business man and was able to
stake Max when he moved to Texas. Max has done well for himself, very well, in
fact. His ranch and oil fields are some of the most prosperous in the whole
state but has not spent much time in Dallas society. He is considering running
for a state-wide political office, but he doesn’t feel he has the connections
to do so.”

“And his wife?” Jolene asked. “She is unable to help him in
this regard?”

“Max is a widow. His wife died over ten years ago.”

Jolene felt a shiver trail down her arms. “Why are you here,
Eugenia?”

“Max is looking for a wife. There are very few single women,
and none he feels he could marry. He asked me if I knew of anyone who might be
interested in moving to Texas,” Eugenia said in a rush and then added, “Perhaps
for a fresh start.”

Jolene raised her brows. “And you thought
I
may be
interested?”

Calvin stood. “Come along, Eugenia. I told you this was a
bad idea. I’m sorry to have bothered you, Jolene.”

“How old is your brother?” Jolene asked.

Eugenia sat forward on her chair and Calvin sat back down.
“He is forty and a kind, hard-working man like my father.”

“Exactly how wealthy is your brother-in-law?” Jolene asked
Calvin.

“Wealthier than Martin Gladfoote.”

“And you thought I would be able to gain him entrance to
Dallas society? With a Boston pedigree?”

Eugenia nodded. “Oh, yes. Max says that even though Texans
are very proud of themselves, they all look east when it comes to fashion and
trends. Calvin and I visited Max just a few years ago and were treated like
royalty!”

Jolene looked at Calvin.

“She’s right. They were deferential to be sure.”

“There’s his daughter, too, my niece Melinda, to consider as
well. Max says her come-out will be attended by his cook and ranch hands if he
doesn’t do something soon,” Eugenia said.

Jolene sat quietly and contemplated her alternatives. “Would
you arrange for your brother-in-law and me to exchange some telegraphs, Calvin?
Tomorrow or the next day, if possible.” She turned to Eugenia. “Have you
communicated to him your impression of me?”

“Yes,” Eugenia said hesitantly. “I have. I have told him that
you seemed to be an unhappy and sometimes bitter person, but that you have had
crosses to bear.”

Jolene smiled. “Well said, Eugenia. And he is still
interested?”

“Max is not looking for a love affair. He loved and mourned
Melinda’s mother deeply. His home is certainly large enough for you to live
together but rarely meet. He is interested in exploring politics and knows he
must gain entry to the good homes somehow, which I believe you could provide.
And Max is willing to settle twenty million dollars in your name only, aside
from whatever you would need to update the Hacienda or launch Melinda or outfit
yourself.”