The Reluctant Debutante (6 page)

The youngest Fitzpatrick child, Saffron was only seven, with a head full of yellow curls that matched her name. Her doll had a seat at the table with her. She smiled brightly at Basil.

“Are there any little girls in St. Louis I could play with?”

“I have a sister about your age, Saffron,” Joseph replied. “Her name is Elise.”

Saffron’s blue eyes grew large as she surveyed the tall, dark man who was her brother’s friend. “Really? Does she look like you?”

“A little bit. Her eyes are the same color as mine, but her hair is more the color of yours. And she has a doll, too.”

“Could we have a tea party for our dolls together?” Saffron’s expression was very serious.

Joseph held back his smile. “I am certain Elise and her doll would welcome your company. You are lucky to have so many sisters. Elise has only brothers.”

Jasmine and Heather sighed in unison. These twins were due to be introduced into society next season. If his experience with them in the parlor was any indication, Joseph thought these two young ladies were much like two-year-old horses about to race for the first time. They were poised and ready, chomping at the bit to make their entrances. Joseph smiled inwardly as he thought of the havoc they would cause to next year’s crop of unknowing suitors. Unlike Ginger, who despised every moment of her time in the spotlight.

“How many brothers do you have?” Jasmine, or Heather, asked.

They really are copies of each other, so my confusion in the library was not unwarranted,
Joseph thought as he compared their skin tone, their brunette hair, and their brown eyes. Both sets of eyes were eagerly trained on him right now.

“I have three brothers, all younger than me.”

“Oooh. What are their names and ages?” Heather or Jasmine cooed.

“There is Gaston, who is now twenty-three, Raoul is nineteen, and Etienne is the youngest brother at sixteen.”

“Umm, Gaston ... Raoul,” they rolled the French names over their tongues. “Do they look like you?”

Joseph was glad Basil had enlisted his help only for Ginger.

“Gaston looks more like our father. He has hair the color of sand, sort of like Valerian’s.” Joseph nodded at Basil’s youngest brother and smiled. “But Gaston’s eyes are green.”

“Raoul and I look most like each other, except he’s not as tall as I am. He is living in Canada right now, with our grandfather.”

“Raoul sounds perfect, if he looks like you, Joseph,” Jasmine, or Heather, replied breathlessly.

“Jasmine, stop making a fool of yourself,” Ginger said hotly. “I know it’s hard for you to rein yourself in, but please try.”

“Now, daughters, stop your squabbling. We have a guest this evening, so do try to be on your best behavior.” Charlotte scolded her children. “Please go on, Joseph. Tell us about your youngest brother, Etienne.”

“Etienne likes to think he’s a man already. He’s got my coloring and he will be tall when he completes his growth. But in many ways, he’s still a child. He needs to spend a summer with our grandfather.”

Joseph smiled to himself as he thought of how his brothers would react if the twins were within range. Gaston might be quietly interested in one or the other, but Raoul would bite their heads off and scorn their frivolous behavior. And, as for Etienne ... he would be so flattered by all the attention, he would not know what to do with himself.
No, it would be best if my brothers and these troublesome young ladies never cross paths.

Ginger tapped her finger against her lips thoughtfully. “Tell me why, Joseph, your name is not French like the other members of your family?”

Joseph looked up at her in mild surprise. He hadn’t realized she’d been paying close attention to the conversation. “Actually, Joseph is a French name as well, if you place the accent on the second syllable. But I also was given this name because it was the name of my father’s partner in the fur trade. He was Joseph Pearce, a British man who taught my father how to speak and read the English language. And, according to my father, Joseph Pearce was one of the most fierce and loyal men in the country.”

Ginger’s eyes glimmered with excitement. “He sounds like a most interesting gentleman. Does he live close to you in Missouri?”

“Sadly, Joseph Pearce died the year I was born. A bear protecting her cub attacked him. According to my father’s story, he, my mother, and I were with Joseph when the bear charged. Joseph wanted to protect me and my mother, so he gave his life to the bear in order for us to escape.”

“He died doing the same thing as the mother bear. He was protecting his cub.” Ginger put her hand over her heart, as tears glistened her eyes.

Joseph nodded in silent agreement as the table fell quiet, momentarily. Soon, though, the animated group began prying answers from Basil about his life on the frontier.

Although the Fitzpatricks all treated him amicably, Joseph felt a bit overwhelmed meeting the entire large family all at once. He’d already met Halwyn and Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpatrick the previous evening. However, the younger children hadn’t been there. Halwyn, as the eldest son, shouldered the mantle of responsibility for the family business with great dignity, and a bit of stuffiness, Joseph thought. He could relate, being the eldest in a brood of four brothers and a young sister.

But Joseph liked to enjoy himself as well, with people such as Basil. From the looks of Halwyn, it had been some time since he’d had any fun. His manner was as formal as his evening attire. Halwyn spoke to the children with quiet dignity, not with the air of jocular familiarity Basil used. More than once during dinner, Halwyn lifted an eyebrow in the direction of an unruly child, who immediately corrected his behavior. Pepper, his twin sister, was the opposite of Halwyn, and not just in her coloring. She and her husband, Michael, sat close together, and their hands frequently drifting toward one another during the meal. Pepper’s black hair blended with Michael’s dark brown waves as their heads touched when they whispered to each other. Pepper was prettily pregnant with their first child. Joseph watched their interplay throughout the evening, with a feeling akin to envy.

“So, Joseph, tell me a bit about this family business of yours our bank has invested in,” Halwyn turned toward him.

“We catch wild horses out on the plains west of St. Louis about twice a year, break them, and then sell them. It is a small operation started by my father, but it keeps all of us busy.”

“To whom do you sell the horses?” Ginger asked.

“Right now, we are only selling to individuals who need new mounts. Mostly pioneers on the wagon trains heading further west, or men going to look for the gold fields. But soon, the city of St. Louis will have horse-drawn trolleys, and we will supply all the horses for the city to use.”

Ginger’s eyes gleamed as she digested this information. Halwyn noticed and grimaced.

“Now you’ve done it, Joseph. Ginger’s trying to think of more ways you could wring a profit from your business. There will be no stopping her now.”

Joseph caught Ginger’s gratified look as Halwyn whispered “oof,” and he assumed her foot had connected with poor Halwyn’s shin. Their interaction reminded him of himself and his brothers, and it made him smile.

Ginger replied, “For your information, Halwyn, and unlike you, I do have other interests outside of the bank. I just met Elizabeth Blackwell the other day. She’s the first female doctor in the United States, and she and her sister want to open a school here in the city for women to receive medical training. I’ve decided to take the introductory class she’s offering this spring.”

“Not if it cuts into your social obligations, young lady,” Charlotte reprimanded. “You know what is really important this year.”

It was Ginger’s turn to grimace. “Yes, Mother. As if I could forget.”

Joseph decided to take some of the pressure off by asking his own question.

“Mrs. Fitzpatrick, your children are all named for herbs and spices, I have noticed.”

Charlotte took her husband’s hand as she replied. “Yes, we did get carried away, it seems. We began with Halwyn, which is a family name on George’s side. When we discovered it is also a name for salt, it seemed only fitting we name his twin Pepper, especially with her head of black hair, and Halwyn was so blond. We gave Basil his name just because we thought it was a nice name for a man. But then our next child appeared, with her mop of reddish-brown hair, and we had no choice but to name her Ginger.”

Charlotte patted Ginger’s finely coiffed hair, and then ran her hand down her daughter’s arm. The small pause in her speech gave Joseph the chance to glance at Ginger. She wore a dinner dress with a wide skirt; its green velvet set off her emerald eyes and complemented her skin and hair. The sleeves were flounced in three sets of gathers, ending in wide cuffs of Maltese lace that fell from her elbows to just above her wrists. Her fine dress mattered little to Joseph — she could be dressed in a feed sack and still take his breath away. He reluctantly turned his attention back to Mrs. Fitzpatrick, who continued with her discussion of her children’s names.

“Then came more twins, who were identical girls, so we gave them each the name of a scented herb — Jasmine and Heather.” The girls giggled at their mother’s words. “By then were locked into this pattern, and we finished off our children with Rosemary, Valerian, and Saffron.”

The younger children preened as their names were announced. Rosemary was a quiet girl with lovely gray eyes, which perfectly matched her soft gray velvet dress, trimmed in a black braid that encircled her tiny waist and shoulders. Charlotte had insisted Rosemary put her book away before joining the dinner party. Otherwise, Joseph was convinced she would have read through the entire meal without lifting her lovely eyes to the family gathering once. A few times, she looked at Joseph covertly, but the minute his glance moved her way, she quickly ducked her head.

Valerian was the next in line, a raucous boy of thirteen. Even though this dinner was a family gathering, Joseph noticed Charlotte had sent Val back to the washroom to scrub his hands and face again before sitting down to the meal. His sandy brown hair and big brown eyes did remind him of his own brother, Gaston.

Charlotte asked her guest, “Do you miss your family, Joseph?”

He looked up at her, surprised she could read his thoughts. His years of living between two cultures had taught him to conceal his feelings, but Mrs. Fitzpatrick had cut through his mask.

“Yes, I do, for most of us still live and work together on the ranch. Raoul is the only one to have left home so far. We have many family dinners just like this in our household. But I have enjoyed this evening and getting to know your large and lively family.”

He let his gaze fall on each person, and rewarded himself by letting his last look be of Ginger. Her eyes lifted as he looked at her and she ran her tongue nervously over her lips, like she had the previous evening. He mentally groaned as he watched her, and his body involuntarily clenched.

The next evening, the long table in the Fitzpatrick’s formal dining room gleamed in readiness. The head housekeeper gave the place settings for twenty people a final adjustment. Charlotte positioned the centerpiece of flowers and stood back to make certain everything was in place. She clapped her hands together softly as she surveyed the room, looking for any dust motes at the corners or dried food on the silverware that may have escaped the housekeeper’s attention. Everything was done, except to seat the guests to her liking.

Charlotte had been correct when she predicted this dinner would become the most talked-about event of the week. Not one person on the guest list had begged off. Now she just had to arrange the guests at the table, so as not to offend anyone.

She picked up the name placards and placed the ones she didn’t need to think about first. George at the head of the table, herself at the foot. Annie Schemerhorn and her husband were on either side of George. Cornelius Vanderbilt, the railroad tycoon and his wife Sophia, were next. Her husband’s best friend, Charles Gray, the wealthy industrialist who was also Quentin’s father, and his wife, Eleanor, were seated on either side of Charlotte.

Then, she placed Basil, Joseph, Ginger, Halwyn, Pepper and Michael, Ginger’s best friend Elizabeth Martin, and Elizabeth’s parents. The three remaining spots at the table were assigned to Ginger’s most ardent suitors — Quentin Gray; Richard Douglas, second son of an English duke who was visiting America; and William Davenport, an officer in the Army who had recently graduated from West Point.

Last night’s meal was all about family. Following the meal, Ginger exposed the twins’ bad behavior as she told Charlotte of their visits to see Joseph in the library. As the twins cried and howled at Ginger for tattling on them, Charlotte wrung her hands in dismay. She might have problems with Ginger this year, but she would
really
have her hands full next year, trying to keep her lively twin daughters in line for an entire social season, and keep the threat of scandal from their door.

Already, the danger of censure from society loomed close by, should Joseph’s true identity be discovered. She hoped she, George, and Basil could put it to rest this evening with some fine acting.

Charlotte thought briefly of Ginger’s behavior the previous evening. She had been excited for the entire day, waiting for the two men to arrive. She even helped plan the meal and arranged the centerpiece for Charlotte, which was totally out of character for her. But the minute Basil and Joseph set foot in the room, Ginger became subdued.

Charlotte kept watching her daughter throughout the evening. She seemed to have a fever — bright eyes, flushed cheeks, a shortness of breath. Charlotte had even suggested she might want to retire early if she wasn’t feeling well, but Ginger had elected to remain downstairs. Charlotte now realized Ginger had stayed in order to keep check on the twins until Basil and Joseph left to return to their rooms at the hotel on Broadway.

Well, tonight Ginger would be animated, if Charlotte had to prod her with a stick! This evening’s dinner was meant to impress. Charlotte had arranged for the most handsome and available men of the season to be here and to have ample time with Ginger. She would not tolerate any of Ginger’s antics this evening. Pleased with the way the room looked, she returned to her bedroom to finish dressing.