The Princess & the Pea (32 page)

"Where on earth is Jared?" Cece struggled to keep a peevish tone from her voice. "I have barely seen him all week, and now he seems to have vanished."

"I shouldn't worry." Emily said, her mind obviously elsewhere. "He's certain to be here somewhere."

Cece glanced critically at her sister. This was the first moment all evening she'd had a chance to speak with Emily. The girl had been surrounded by eager young men as soon as the festivities began.

Emily positively sparkled tonight. Her amber eyes glowed with excitement, high color warmed her cheeks, the frothy white gown she wore created a vision reminiscent of a fairy tale princess. Cece remembered the marvelous time she'd had at her own coming out and was inordinately pleased her sister was experiencing the same success.

"You seem to be having a pleasant evening." Cece said with a smile.

"Oh, Cece," the younger girl sighed, "isn't this the most perfect night ever?"

Cece laughed softly. "Perhaps not ever, but I will agree it is a lovely evening."

"It's wonderful." Emily said with a bob of her head. "Simply wonderful."

Cece's gaze skipped over the multitude squeezed in the ballroom and continued her search for Jared. He was nowhere to be seen, but Cece vaguely noted what appeared to be a great deal of animated conversation taking place among ducked heads and behind protective fans. She wondered if some juicy tidbit of gossip was circulating through the room, then dismissed the inconsequential notion.

"I only wish I could find Jared. I wonder if he's with Quentin? Have you seen him at all lately?"

"Quentin?" Emily asked, as if the name was unfamiliar.

Cece smiled
wryly.
"Yes, Quentin. Surely you remember him? The gentleman you find so frustrating and confusing?"

"I know perfectly well who you're talking about. I haven't the vaguest notion where he is." Emily lifted her shoulders in a casual gesture of dismissal. "And I'm not particularly concerned either."

"You're not?" Cece said cautiously.

"Not a bit."

Cece cast her sister a speculative glance. "I thought you were in love with him."

"So did I," Emily said airily. "But that was long ago."

"Last week, I believe." A dry note sounded in Cece's voice.

"It seems very long ago." Emily's tone was firm. "Honestly, Cece. I see no reason why I should set my cap for any one man right now. Just, for a moment, consider the possibilities." Emily swept her fan in a gesture that encompassed the entire ballroom.

"Look at all these young men here. Handsome, exciting ... why, a girl would be a fool not to consider all the options available. And not just here, either. There's still all of Chicago society that I've yet to really meet, as an adult anyway." She leaned toward her sister with a patronizing air. "It's not as if Quentin was my only chance for a good marriage. After all, I am only seventeen. It would be far different if I were your age."

"I see." Cece said slowly. "Then I gather you think I'd best snare Jared and haul him to the altar before he notices my failing eyesight, imminent wrinkles and deteriorating wits?"

"No, no." Emily shook her head impatiently. "I did not mean that at all. I am certain, even without Jared, you still have a few opportunities left."

"Thank you."

Emily blithely ignored her sister's cutting response. "It's of no consequence, at any rate. Whereas I have realized that my interest in Quentin was no doubt the result of close proximity and possibly even a still unknown malady, you are confident of your feelings for Jared." She raised a brow. "You are still certain that you love him, aren't you?"

Cece sighed in resignation. "Yes, that is one thing I'm confident of."

"Very well, then." Emily beamed. "We needn't worry about your fate. There shall be no more nonsense about working for a living. You and Jared will marry and live happily ever after, and I need no longer fear you'll end up old and feeble and alone."

"I had no idea you foresaw such a dire end for me," Cece muttered.

Emily nodded vigorously. "I did indeed. I have spent years hoping against hope you would come to your senses and finally develop some measure of decorum and rational behavior. At times I have even—"

"Pardon me."

The girls turned at the deep, resonant voice.

"I believe this is my dance." A tall, roguishly handsome, dark-haired man nodded to Cece and presented his arm to Emily. Cece had to admit, if Jared's charms had not already blinded her to the temptation of any other man, she would find this one quite inviting.

"How delightful." Emily said in a voice at once sweet and sultry. Emily cast her sister a smug smile, then turned her complete attention to the stranger, and the couple glided onto the dance floor.

Cece stared in astonishment. Where on earth had her quiet, proper sister acquired that flirtatious manner? From whom had she adopted that come-hither expression? Obviously, this trip to England had made an impact on Emily that Cece never would have expected. Why, Em seemed almost like ...

The idea struck her with the force of a physical blow, and Cece's eyes widened with the emotional impact. Emily's behavior was not unlike her own at that age. Of course Cece's adventures had started long before she discovered the innate appeal of the opposite sex, but the tilt of Emily's chin and the rapt look in her eye that told the man she gazed at that he was, at that moment, her world, and even the mix of honey and spice in her voice was so like Cece at seventeen, it was nearly as if she'd just gazed into a mirror of the past.

My goodness! What had she done to the prim, docile child? Cece drew her brows together and tried to consider this new development rationally. Was this evolution of Emily's character really so bad? A slow smile spread on Cece's face. Of course not. She was merely following the example set by her big sister. Cece'd had some marvelous adventures in her life that she credited to her uninhibited nature. Only now did she truly understand the need to consider the consequences of her actions before leaping forward. But Emily had always had that sense of restraint. Tempering it with a bit of exuberance, perhaps a touch of intemperance, even a dash of outrageous abandon, would do the girl a world of good.

Cece's smile broadened into a grin. If Emily had long worried about her sister's fate, so too had Cece harbored concern over Em's future. It seemed there was no longer cause for concern. Emily was following in her sister's lightly trod, occasionally reckless, thoroughly enjoyed footsteps.

"I was so shocked to hear about Jared."

Cece spun around to meet Linnea DeToulane's mournful greeting. Her eyes widened and her heart stopped. Had something happened to Jared?

"What is it?" Cece asked sharply. "Tell me! At once!"

"You needn't take that tone." Linnea huffed. "It's not as if the man were dead or mortally wounded or anything like that."

Cece breathed a sigh of relief

"He's not even mildly injured, as far as I know," Linnea said, adding in a dark tone, "although he might as well be, at least as far as his reputation is concerned."

The woman made absolutely no sense. "What on earth are you talking about?"

Linnea glanced to one side and then the other, as if making sure they were not overheard. "You do remember the discussion at dinner last week about Quentin's tinkering with that horseless carriage?"

"Of course I remember," Cece said impatiently.

Linnea leaned forward confidentially. "Jared's doing it as well."

Caution colored Cece's voice. "Doing what as well?"

Linnea sighed with exasperation. "Tinkering with automobiles, you silly goose."

At once Linnea's manner and the murmurs skittering around the ballroom made sense. Jared's secret was out. And, exactly as he had feared, it had not been well received.

Cece drew a deep, steadying breath and forced a cool, casual air. "Oh, that." She laughed lightly. "I think it's quite delightful of him to be so terribly creative."

Linnea shook her head in a pitying manner. "I suppose one really can't expect you to understand, being from America. You people simply don't have the same sort of standards we have. Standards that have helped us build an empire, while you..."

"Have carved out a completely new country?" Cece suggested sweetly, stifling the impulse to show Linnea precisely the type of damage one standardless American girl could do to one smug British face.

Linnea shrugged, as if mere was no need to respond to a comment she clearly considered ludicrous.

"I will not debate the merits of my country with you, however." Cece smiled wickedly with unexpected inspiration. "There are a vast number of men in my country who have a great deal of ingenuity, exactly like Jared. With their creativity and inventiveness, those men have made a considerable amount of money."

She leaned closer to Linnea, as if revealing a confidence. "I have even heard it said that, today, there are more men worth million in my country than anywhere else in the world."

Cece had no idea if her statement was true or not, but it had a convincing ring. Her words hit their mark, and a speculative gleam appeared in Linnea's eye.

"And Linnea," she cast the widow a knowing smile, "a great many of them are ... elderly."

"Mature." Linnea murmured vaguely.

"Old." Cece said with a firm note. She could see the gears and wheels of Linnea's mind working as clearly as she could see the inner mechanics of Jared's automobile.

"I think it's admirable that the British pride themselves so on their standards and their heritage. But it does make it all so much more lamentable, don't you think?"

"Lamentable?" Linnea's brow drew together in puzzlement. "Whatever do you mean, lamentable'?"

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"Well." Cece sighed and shook her head in feigned melancholy, "it simply seems to me. in many cases, your fortunes are as old as your history. The inspiration that created the wealth originally is long gone. And without a continuing infusion of fresh funds." she shrugged, "some of your best families have already found themselves forced to sell family heirlooms and forge alliances through marriage with those with substantially lower standards. Americans." Cece struggled not to choke on the words, "like myself"

"Quite." Linnea said thoughtfully. "Do go on."

"Jared's automobile has unlimited potential. It could very well be the vehicle of the next century."

"And?" Linnea prompted.

"And ..." Cece paused, drawing out the moment. The time was right to press home her point. "Everyone will want to buy one."

Linnea's eyes widened, and she fluttered her fan before her face. "Everyone?"

"Everyone." Cece nodded in confirmation. "It simply stands to reason. If Jared wishes to produce automobiles, there shall surely be a market for them. Why, look at how popular telephones and electric lights have become."

"And profitable." Linnea said under her breath.

"Indeed." Cece bit back a satisfied smirk. "As the inventor and manufacturer, Jared would doubtlessly double his family's fortune in no time."

"No time at all." Linnea agreed, a somewhat stunned expression on her face.

"Given all that. I can't imagine why every single one of these people here aren't slapping Jared on the back and applauding his British ingenuity. I should even think." Cece lowered her voice, and Linnea leaned toward her to catch her words, "some of those with a bit of business acumen and a little foresight would even wish to invest in this endeavor."

She fanned her face and studied Linnea with a surreptitious eye. The woman looked very much like a cat discovering the untold possibilities of delight to be found in a dairy barn. Cece couldn't resist one final jab to ensure that the woman understood her point. "My father says—you have met my father, haven't you? He's the American with all that money?"

Linnea nodded mutely.

"I thought you'd met." She smiled sweeny and mentally crossed her fingers against the tale she prepared to spin. "My father says anyone would be a fool not to invest in something with as much obvious potential for the future as automobiles. I'm fairly certain he plans on investing quite heavily."

"How very interesting." Linnea said under her breath.

"Oh, dear," Cece widened her eyes in a stricken expression of dismay. "I really should not have been discussing such things. Father will be furious if he thinks I've discussed important business secrets." And furious as well if he knew how very skilled his daughter was at fabrication. She pushed the guilty thought aside. Surely, given the opportunity, Henry White would indeed consider Jared's automobile a good investment.

She laid a pleading hand on the older woman's arm and gazed innocently into her eyes. "Please don't repeat this to anyone."

Linnea patted her hand sympathetically. "Of course not, my dear. Why, I shall simply forget this conversation ever took place."

Cece breathed a sigh of relief. "I would be ever so grateful."

"Now, if you'll excuse me?" Linnea cast her a polite but impatient smile and turned away, eager to do what? Corner her banker, perhaps?

Cece grinned to herself. At least she now had Linnea seeing Jared's work in a different, potentially profitable light. Hopefully, she would pass her newly acquired appreciation of his activities along and, with just the barest luck, others would feel the same way. All they really needed was to have their eyes opened. Determination filled her to do just that, even if it meant prying each and every eye open by force.

Still, Linnea was perhaps a bit more motivated by financial interests than most. Surely there was something else she could do to convince these people to see what Jared was doing not as menial and lower class but as fine and noble.

She cast her gaze around the room and caught sight of Jared sauntering toward her. The man moved with a stride cool, assured, even arrogant. A rakish smile skimmed his lips and his dark eyes danced in his handsome face. Relief battled with concern at his approach. Surely his behavior indicated that he didn't know of the rumors circulating. She hated to be the one to tell him. She drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders. But who better than she?