The Knickerbocker Bride: A Gilded Age Romance

Part Four

Cora attempted not to fidget during what seemed as the longest first act in history. Would intermission never arrive? Thankfully, Harry knew one of the men in John Drexel's party tonight. Her friend had agreed to take her to Drexel's box during intermission, where Cora would innocently bump into her quarry. Problem solved.

First, John would recognize her.

Then Cora's beauty and wit would overwhelm him.

And finally, John would offer a proposal of marriage.

Perhaps the last was a bit far off, but the other two must happen. Tonight. Of course, the more she encountered him, the better her chances for all three.

Who was that garish woman with him? Lily would know, were she here. Thanks to her marriage to Calvin Cabot, the city's most powerful newspaperman, her cousin was well versed on all the New York gossip.

The woman had to be a mistress. Harry hadn't wished to say the word but Cora was not a dimwit. This woman was clearly John Drexel's mistress. She did not understand him. Why pay for companionship when there were plenty of women salivating to fill the role?

Men were so confusing.

She slid a glance at Harry, who concentrated on the performance as if he'd be tested at its conclusion. Cora bit her lip to keep from smiling. Her friend was so serious. So...stuck in his routine. Good for his parents for forcing him out on his own. The change would do Harry some good, in her opinion. He needed the prodding to live alone and gain his independence. Build a life for himself that did not revolve around his workshop, experiments, or books.

Until recently, she had also been reserved and content to let life move on without her. Once she and Lily had been kidnapped, taken hostage, and nearly killed, however, Cora had developed a new attitude. She would not wait for her future to find her; instead, she would chase it down and grab it with both hands. Life was too fleeting, too precious to waste.

Harry glanced over, blinking in surprise when he noticed her staring at him. Recovering quickly, he gave her a subtle wink and her chest ballooned with warm fondness. What a fantastic husband he would make one day.

Applause broke out in the theater and the lights brightened. The curtain had already dropped, intermission now officially started. Cora rose and excused herself to her parents. Then she motioned for Harry to meet her in the corridor behind the boxes.

"Have you decided what you will say to him?" Harry asked when they found one another in the crush of people.

Goodness, she hadn't. She had been so preoccupied during the first act with her thoughts that she had not planned out her attack. "No. Have you any suggestions?"

"How about, hello?"

She elbowed Harry in the side as she accepted his arm. "Be serious. You know I grow tongue-tied around him. Help me."

"Why not bring up the wedding? Was that not the last time you saw him?"

Oh, yes. That was just the thing. Nothing said sophisticated like a woman who stumbled while walking up the aisle at a wedding. John had caught her but then called her by the wrong name, despite having been introduced to him on several occasions. The entire episode needed to be scrubbed from her brain. "I thought to win him over, not remind him of my clumsiness."

Henry sighed, something he seemed to do quite a bit when the topic was John Drexel. "Small talk is not my area of expertise, Cora. Unless you wish to discuss electricity or mathematics, in which case I am happy to advise. Otherwise, I am useless."

"You could never be useless." They dodged a group gathered near the smoking room and continued on. "I don't know what I would do without you, in fact."

The skin above his collar turned red and she suspected she had embarrassed him with the praise. "Well, if you land Drexel I suppose you will find out."

She tripped on the carpet, slightly losing her balance. Her hand tightened on his arm. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"You will be married, Cora."

"And? Plenty of married women have male friends."

"Not unmarried best friends of the opposite gender. It just isn't done."

Something inside her twisted painfully, like when her brothers used to hold her arms behind her back. "I would never do that to you. Even after I marry, we would remain close friends."

He stopped suddenly and faced her, his brows pinched into a tight line. "Cora, be serious. No husband would tolerate such a friendship in a new bride. And even if he did, it asks too much of me."

Asks too much of him? What on earth did that mean? "Because you hate John Drexel?"

He shook his head and stared at the opposite wall, his lips pressed together as if he must restrain himself from elaborating. "Come on," he finally said. "Let's get this done."

She tried to work out this perplexing side of Harry. He had acted so strangely in the last few months. Talking in riddles. Surly and withdrawn. She had seen glimpses here and there of her old friend but he had transformed into someone new, someone she did not understand.

Had they both changed so much, then? Her, growing more confident and pursuing her one desire, and him, harder and less understanding. Perhaps that happened with most friendships over time, with friends drifting apart. The idea depressed her. She had never thought to lose him from her life.

Harry pushed aside the curtain at the back of a box. "After you."

She took a deep breath and glided through the entry. Drexel's salon was arranged as all the others inside the theater with one notable difference. None of the other private areas had a couple vigorously kissing on the sofa.

Cora froze, her body unable to move as her mind struggled to take in the tableau before her. It was Drexel and his...lady friend, the two of them pawing and licking at one another. The scene was fascinatingly grotesque. Limbs and tongue every which way one looked. They were absorbed in the other, no space between their bodies whatsoever.

Was this what true passion resembled?

She must have made some sort of noise because their heads immediately snapped up. "Oh, dear God," she heard Harry murmur behind her. "Have you no decorum, Drexel?"

John eased away from the woman and dragged a hand through his hair, attempting to put himself back to rights. "I beg your pardon. This is my box. Who the devil are you two?"

The question was another harpoon through Cora's hopeful heart. Stifling a sob, she spun on her heel, pushed by Harry, and dashed into the corridor.

She had to escape.