Chapter One
April 1912
“You wouldn’t have to pick the ball up if you managed to return it.”
Natalie Grant gave her dearest friend a scowl. When Elsie asked her to bring tennis clothes, she had no idea Mrs. Atherton planned to torture her.
“What’s the score now?” Natalie asked.
“Love-40.”
Natalie managed to get her serve over the net. Elsie slammed it back with all her might. Natalie watched it whiz by. “That’s game and match. I’ve had enough.” Walking toward the net to shake hands, Natalie was not happy when Elsie held her ground. “Tell me what this is about.”
“We don’t have to keep score. Won’t you rally a few minutes longer?”
“Why? Explain this.”
“I need to exercise. I need to be strong.”
“We’ve played for almost two hours. This is not the kind of tennis we learned at Miss Orton’s. I much prefer a tranquil game of ladies’ doubles. You’re winded. This isn’t good for you. You haven’t fully recovered from your illness.”
“Don’t you dare say that to me. Serve a ball or I will. Just one long rally and I’ll explain.”
Natalie fumed but served. The two former classmates managed a lengthy rally, mostly because Elsie hit the ball so Natalie could easily return it.
Elsie Atherton eyed her friend, gauging whether she should push her luck once more. It was foggy in San Pedro, perfect for tennis. She acknowledged her own thirst. “All right, Natalie. Let’s go to the soda fountain. My treat. I’ll answer all your questions.”
The two ladies linked arms and headed for Elsie’s grand new Cadillac, an extravagant Valentine’s gift from her extravagant husband.
“I’ve never played tennis on a public court in my life. Certainly, Mr. Atherton has the wherewithal to join a tennis club?”
“He would join the San Pedro Tennis Club if I expressed an interest. I don’t often play. Surely the 7th and Ocean Front court wasn’t that vile? We could have played at the high school.” Elsie took in her friend’s expression. If playing on a public court proved unappealing, it seemed clear Miss Natalie Grant would not be caught dead playing at a high school.
“Honestly, Elsie, I’m starting to think you’re entirely common as Mother asserts. She always thought the world of you until Blake’s wild New Year’s ball. She says no amount of money can make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.” Fearing she’d overstepped, Natalie was relieved at Elsie’s laughter. “You’re not offended?”
“I have no desire to join the ranks of high society. Do you not know me at all? By the way, I believe you’ve fallen in love with a very common man. How will you overcome your snobbish ways should Mr. Brundidge ever come calling?”
“Who says I’m in love?”
Elsie rolled her eyes. “Because every conversation we have eventually makes its way around to Joah Brundidge. Yet, he is conspicuously absent from your dance card.”
“Don’t be rude. And I am certainly no snob.”
A quiet interlude commenced as the friends climbed into the car. The blond-haired, blue-eyed Natalie was dressed in a white shirtwaist and red bow-tie. Her white shoes peeped from below the hem of her white pleated skirt. Her tennis ensemble was the height of sports fashion. Elsie had neatly braided her dark hair around her head. She wore a pin-striped blue waist and blue necktie with a button-front white skirt and white shoes. Neither saw fit to bring a hat. Women could be bare-headed while playing tennis if they chose.
They accomplished the trip to the soda fountain in short order. First, because it wasn’t far; second, because Mrs. Atherton tended to have a heavy foot. Once seated in a booth near the door, Natalie awaited her explanation.
“Go ahead then,” she urged after their ice cream sodas were delivered.
“With what?” Elsie innocently replied.
“Your explanation. You promised to tell me what today was all about.”
“I’m angry at Blake, that’s all.”
“And how might your wrath have anything to do with tennis?”
Sighing deeply, Elsie explained, “Blake still considers me an invalid. He avoids me. I’m evidently too much of a temptress.” This caused Elsie’s cheeks to glow. Further explanation seemed relevant. “I mean, he works so much, he’s rarely home.”
“I’m certain that’s what you really meant,” Natalie teased. “You must admit, you were terribly ill, Elsie. Your husband is to be commended for allowing you ample time to recover.”
“You can see there’s nothing feeble about me. I want to get on with life. I want a family.” This admission caused a deeper blush. “And I’ve come to understand my husband is not as self-sacrificing as he might seem.”
“You’ve lost me again. What are you talking about?”
Elsie heaved another sigh. “It means Mr. Atherton is about to be in a lot of trouble.”
It appeared Elsie’s explanation was as complete as it would get. Natalie changed topics. “The news will be interesting tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“It’s when the survivors of the Titanic reach New York. I can’t even imagine the horrors the passengers experienced.”
“And you want to know all about it?”
“I do. Don’t you?”
“It seems morbid to me. Those people have been through enough. Why badger them to recall painful experiences? Besides, Blake does nothing but fret about his boats. The disaster isn’t inspiring any confidence in his expensive endeavors. The Titanic was supposedly unsinkable.”
“The Titanic was a luxury ocean liner. How can it have anything to do with Mr. Atherton’s freighter business?”
“Well, a boat is a boat. They can all sink. Blake says there must be some level of incompetence involved. He’s hired the best possible men to design and build his freighters. He’s quite adept at his signature smaller craft. I don’t believe any of his boats have ever sunk. His current focus is to locate a personnel manager who will hire competent crew for the freighter company, even though it will be months before they’re needed.”
“Has your sister turned up?”
“Not so far. Mother got a letter from her. Dora apparently did not venture far from home. The postmark read Los Angeles. She said she’s doing well and will be home for a visit sometime this summer.”
“It sounds as mysterious as ever.”
“Well, that’s Dora for you. All the other girls are doing well at Miss Orton’s.”
Conversation turned to news of fellow classmates and Mrs. Grant’s current efforts on behalf of women’s suffrage. Natalie’s mother had been out-of-state in recent weeks, determined to attain the right to vote for all women just as the ladies of California recently achieved.
Elsie paid the bill and the two young ladies were soon resettled in the Cadillac. Shortly, she pulled into a driveway at the harbor and parked next to an industrial building.
“Get out,” Elsie proclaimed.
“What is this place?”
“Atherton and Brundidge. Get out. You’ll thank me.”
“Of all the things you’ve done today, Elsie, this is the most bizarre.”
“No, it’s not. You’ll find your Mr. Brundidge here. Ask for him. You can tell him we argued and I drove away and left you.”
“Why wouldn’t I ask for Mr. Atherton? It would be the more proper course of action.”
“Blake isn’t here.”
“Where is he?”
“He’s at home, stewing because I’m not there.”
“When we left, he wasn’t there.”
“He’s there now. Get going. This is the opportunity you’ve been waiting for. Joah won’t be able to resist a lady in distress. Trust me.”
At that, Elsie drove away, leaving her dearest friend to her own devices. A sly smile settled on Natalie’s lips. Today could turn out better than she’d ever imagined.
* * *
An always-exuberant Blake Atherton burst through his sitting room door yelling, “Elsie! Elsie, where are you?”
Silence was the only response. He figured as much since the Cadillac was missing from their driveway. Having bought himself a good deal of grace with the expensive car, Blake wondered if his extravagant gift had been wise. His wife had unprecedented freedom, which she did not hesitate to realize.
Blake threw his Panama hat on the settee and nervously ran his fingers through his light brown hair. He looked forward to this moment for weeks. The gardener never came on Wednesday. Constance hadn’t worked on Wednesday since Elsie recovered from her illness. They would have the house to themselves. He tore through his morning schedule at the docks, determined to make it home as early as possible. Now there was no Elsie.
He paced about the sitting room attempting to think of some appropriate way to burn off his frustration when he remembered the dead lemon tree in the rear garden. Mr. Lewis was not as young or agile as he had once been. Although he drove Blake mad with his slow, quiet way, Elsie enjoyed how he puttered in the garden. Since the old gentleman was in no shape to take the tree out, Blake intended to hire a laborer to cut it down and complete a few other strenuous garden chores. Now, he could take the tree out himself.
Blake removed his coat and tie, strode out the back door and retrieved an ax, saw and shovel from the carriage house. The tree was not large. He might complete the entire project before Elsie saw fit to come home.
* * *
Having garnered friendly directions, Natalie soon found herself in the hallway outside Joah Brundidge’s office. A determined Miss Grant entered to discover a secretary engaged in phone conversation. Joah’s door stood open. She walked through and closed it.
Also on the telephone, Mr. Brundidge stood behind his desk looking out the window. The red-haired, brown-eyed Joah was elegantly attired in a dove gray suit, not at all what Natalie imagined. She spent months picturing him in overalls, building ships with his own hands. A working man’s rough hands were the one attribute that gave him away at the Atherton New Year’s ball. Dressed in his tuxedo, tailored and manicured, he would otherwise have passed for the social elite.
Startled when Joah turned and hung the phone on the receiver, Natalie was momentarily tongue-tied. Joah appeared equally astounded at his surprise guest.
Natalie finally managed, “I’m sorry. I seem to be stranded. Elsie and I were playing tennis in San Pedro.” She leaned her tennis racket against the wall. “We argued and she let me out here. Mr. Atherton isn’t in. I’m at a loss as to how to get home.” Warming to her topic, Miss Grant continued, “I believe you owe me a rescue. The score is two-to-one as I recall.”
Joah gave a half-smile. “I thought your mother’s daunting presence put us even?”
“True, you did take care of Mother which should count for something. Maybe half a rescue?”
“So today would put me ahead.”
“Well, we need to factor in my broken heart.” More seriously, Natalie stated, “I thought I’d hear from you. I had a wonderful time on New Year’s Eve. I thought you did too.”
“I did. New Year’s was a magical night for me. I danced with the most beautiful girl in the world. She was clever, kind and funny.”
“But then the clock struck 12 and the handsome prince vanished into the night.”
“Something like that. Look, Natalie. We come from different backgrounds. Our lives couldn’t be more dissimilar. Your parents would never approve of me. We could never—”
Gazing out the window, Natalie walked around the desk and stood next to him. “Don’t say that. Tell me about your ship.”
Finding it difficult to tear his eyes away, Joah pointed at the drydock beyond his window. You’re beholding the birth of the Anna George, our pride and joy.”
“How did you name her?”
“Blake wanted to use his parents’ first names. I thought it appropriate. If not for his father’s connections, we would never have succeeded in our business. If not for his parents’ deaths in the automobile accident, our friendship would never have continued.”
“So, an end was a beginning?”
“A tragic ending, one Blake might never get past, but I guess you’re right.”
“We have yet to solve my minor predicament. Do you have any suggestions?”
“I suppose I could take some time and drive you home.”
“It would be the gentlemanly thing to do.”
“I’m no gentleman, Natalie. Don’t forget that.”
“Then it won’t matter if I do this.” Natalie stood on tiptoe and threw her arms around Joah’s neck, applying a tentative kiss. Breathing heavily, she looked into his eyes, hoping he wouldn’t think her too forward. She was thrilled when he wrapped his arms around her and applied his own, ardent kiss.
* * *
Elsie spotted her husband’s apple green Matheson automobile parked in the driveway beside the house. She decided to park on the street and find out what Blake was up to. As she walked toward the sitting room entrance, she heard the unmistakable scraping sound of a shovel as it slid through dirt then hit something of substance. Sneaking along the side of the house, she peered around the corner.
Blake Atherton was probably as close to a Greek god as Elsie would find this side of heaven. She’d never seen another living male body and likely never would, but she had taken art history at Miss Orton’s. She noticed the shape of other men’s torsos at the plunge. By comparison, her husband was not only extremely muscular but as handsome a man as could be imagined.
He had removed his shirt. His suspenders hung loosely down his legs. Bronze from working shirtless in the sun at the boatyard, Blake’s skin seemed to glow in the sunlight. As he grasped the tree trunk and pulled it toward him, then pushed it away, his biceps bulged. Mr. Atherton’s prominent stomach muscles were hard to miss. Although she seldom thought of him that way, her husband was likely the catch of a lifetime.
Blake’s hair glistened from sweat. His green eyes were intent upon his chore. Rich and handsome—every girl’s dream. Why did it seem their brief marriage was so fraught with challenges?
Elsie rethought her desire to call Blake out for his deceit. It was true, she nearly died from a combination of measles, resultant pneumonia and miscarriage. But that was back in January. He knew how much she wanted to start a family. Blake made it clear he did not consider her strong enough for motherhood, the real reason he avoided her as completely as he could.
Elsie was shopping with her mother when an unpleasant possibility occurred to her.
“I don’t know why you’d piece your quilt by machine, Elsie. Is it even a quilt if you don’t do it by hand?”
“Of course it is, Mother. How would anyone know I pieced it by machine?”
“I think you can tell by examining the seams. Any quilter worth her salt would ridicule your methods. What would your husband say?”
“Blake would think me a genius should I attach the whole thing with safety pins. He’d claim I was clever to make it glimmer so. He adores everything I do. I am quilting by hand. That takes long enough.”
“Don’t you go and disparage my favorite son-in-law, now.”
“Blake is your only son-in-law, but I was under the impression he is your most favorite person on earth.”
“Now, Elsie, you know my girls are my favorites.”
“But did your girls buy you a house and support you in your poverty? Do your girls hang on your every word as if they came directly from God, Himself? Honestly, Mother, after the way the two of you started out, it’s hard to believe how dear you and Blake are to each other.”
“Don’t be jealous dear. I’ve never known a man to be as much in love as your husband is with you. He would do anything you asked of him.”
Everything but what I want, thought Elsie. “Blake is not an easy person to be married to. He has an overwhelming personality. None of his hopes or dreams belong in the real world.”
“Any woman would gladly change places with you. Your husband is generous, sociable and intelligent. His money certainly doesn’t hurt. Then there’s the way he looks.”
Elsie glared at her mother. “I thought I married a simple man. I thought we would have a normal life.”
“What is normal? You certainly can’t compare your marriage to your father’s and mine. He was an invalid since you were a child. Do you think I intended my life to be what it’s been?”
“No, certainly not. Father’s ill health couldn’t have been foreseen. But he would have changed your circumstances if he were able. Blake seems to think his current, reckless pursuit of success the epitome of good times.”
“I don’t think you can accuse him of cupidity. He’s the most generous man I’ve ever known. But as his bride, you’re left to your own devices too much.”
“I am. It might sound selfish, but I married Blake not his work.”
“But you love him.”
“I do,” Elsie reluctantly agreed.
“Maybe it’s best to be supportive and see if he can overcome these initial hurdles. Marriage is a new experience for him, too.”
Not caring much for her mother’s ideas, Elsie felt certain her opinions were the root of the Athertons’ current difficulties. Blake showed up enough to avoid acrimony and appear willing to start a family. She remembered a March day when he materialized out of the blue to spend the afternoon in bed. His devotion to their union continued over the next two days until her time of the month was upon her. But how could Blake know when to portray the ardent lover without consequence?
At that moment, Elsie and her mother strolled past the lingerie department. She suddenly remembered Blake’s offhand remark after they moved into their Long Beach house. He liked to open her dresser drawers to smell the rose sachets inside, the place she kept her calendar with the circled dates—her reminder. This was how she knew he would be home this afternoon.
As she took one last, lingering look around the corner, Elsie devised a new plan. What if she didn’t disclose her theories? What if she placed a new calendar in the drawer, marking the days a bit later each month? She might get the baby she wanted and Blake would never suspect.
Nodding, Elsie headed for the door. A soak in the tub might be just the thing—a way to soothe her muscles and prepare for an entertaining afternoon.
She stopped in the kitchen to concoct a recipe her mother used, supposedly Cleopatra’s personal bath soak. Pouring milk and honey in a small pan, she brought it almost to simmering then took her potion to the bathtub. The Atherton home boasted four bathrooms including one in the master suite. Because of its large window, her favorite place to bathe was in the bathroom off the kitchen.
While the water ran, Elsie walked out the front door to the edge of the porch where a ‘Mrs. Dudley Cross’ tea rose grew beside the house. She picked three fully open roses and returned to her bath.
After tossing petals plucked from the roses in the tub, she added the milk and honey mixture. Hanging her tennis clothes on the hook of the door, Elsie enjoyed the rose scent. She stepped into the murky water, laid her head against the back of the clawfoot tub and closed her eyes as the sea breeze fluttered sheer white curtains above her head.
* * *
Blake washed up at the kitchen sink while enjoying the faint sound of his wife humming On Moonlight Bay behind the closed door of the bathroom. An undeniable urge to scandalize Elsie came over him. Blake sighed before gently turning the doorknob. The day when he would no longer be able to shock his naïve bride was inevitable. But that was not today.
He poked his head through the door to find Elsie lolling in the bathtub and walked right in.
A startled Mrs. Atherton asked, “What are you doing?”
“I stink. Mind if I join you?”
“Why would you do such a thing? There are three other tubs in this house.”
“But you’re not in those.” Blake grinned as an ever-modest Elsie looked away when he dropped his pants and climbed in. She pulled her knees up as he settled at the opposite end of the bathtub.
“This is completely improper.”
“Who’s to know?”
Elsie’s mouth fell open. The idea a man and woman might share a bathtub was clearly foreign to her.
“Why are you in the tub in the middle of the day?”
“Natalie and I played tennis this morning. A bath seemed in order.”
“What is all this crap?” Blake pushed rose petals away, clearly unhappy the water was too cloudy to observe anything but his wife’s shoulders and knees.
“My mother’s secret recipe—Cleopatra’s bath soak.”
“Oh, so you’re set on beguiling me?”
“I certainly am not. I think you should leave. I wanted to soak away my aches and pains.”
“Sore muscles?”
“And feet.”
“Maybe I could be of assistance. Give me a foot.”
Elsie slid her foot to his end of the tub and raised it out of the water. She closed her eyes in ecstasy when Blake massaged her arch with his thumbs.
“Feel good?”
“Oh, very.”
Settling that foot on his chest, he urged, “Give me the other one.” His intention was to lull his wife into a state of lethargy. “You never told me you played tennis.”
“We were introduced to all ladies’ sports at Miss Orton’s. I excelled at tennis.”
“Is there some reason you felt the need to demonstrate your athleticism today?”
Opening her eyes, Elsie stared across the tub at her husband. “I’m strong, as strong as I’ve ever been. I needed the exercise.”
Blake grinned as he took one of Elsie’s feet in each hand and proceeded with his massage. “And is dear Natalie as avid a player as you? Somehow, I can’t picture that.”
“I don’t think Natalie has ever displayed much of a competitive spirit.”
“She was no threat to your status as valedictorian of your class then?”
“Natalie was a good student. She’s highly intelligent.”
“I’m not trying to disparage her. It seems to me Natalie enjoys her role as pampered socialite. If she was determined to prove herself academically and athletically competent, it might have interfered with your friendship.”
“Are you telling me you and Joah never compete because it would ruin your friendship?”
“Hardly. Men are naturally more competitive and less likely to hold a grudge. Joah and I are evenly matched. We both go all out to defeat the other every chance we get. Sometimes I win; sometimes Joah does. Well, to be honest, I probably win more.”
“I’m certain you think you do.”
Blake chuckled. “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”
“I imagined you’d turn up sooner or later. If not for the rumpled sheets in the guest room, I’d believe you might have fallen off the face of the earth.”
“You need your rest, Elsie. I’m trying to be a considerate husband.”
“Is it your intention to be considerate of my health today?”
“You’re not asleep. I came home early so we could spend time together. I truly wish I wasn’t tied up at work. You know it wasn’t my plan to launch so many business enterprises at once. I intend to be home for supper from now on.”
“You’ll be here today, and tomorrow, and the next day, and then you’ll fade away, buried at work the same as ever.”
The timing of Elsie’s comment caused Blake’s brow to furrow. Could she somehow have deduced his strategy? It seemed unlikely. “I have an appointment downtown on Monday. I’m finally going to meet our new investor, Mr. Bank. Will you come along on Sunday to the big house?”
“I haven’t been there since my illness.”
“I want to go with you. I want to be with you.”
“You say that now, but in a few days, you’ll be right back to work as always.”
“This is a chance of a lifetime, Elsie, although it’s taking a toll on our new marriage. I’m sorry. I took a huge risk here and I don’t want it to blow up in our faces. You might feel destined for deprivation, but I have no desire to experience poverty. I’m not anxious to try it out, even for you. Besides, my brother has evidently charmed the new kitchen helper at the big house. Lang talked her into giving him some meals and doing his laundry.”
“I would think John would have nipped that in the bud although I don’t really understand why you’re being so harsh with Lang. You might at least let him live at your parents’ house.”
“John always had a soft spot for all us Atherton youngsters. He was quite appalled when I suggested he throw Lang out should he ever turn up. My brother needs a direction in life. He should return to the university. I thought he was bright enough to understand he’d have his way paid if he went back. I guess he needs more encouragement.”
“But I won’t have my car. I’ll be stuck in your immense house all alone with nothing to do and nowhere to go.”
“My, we’ve gotten used to the freedom of automobile travel rather quickly. What if we take the Cadillac and you drop me at the office in the morning?” Blake pressed Elsie’s feet to his heart. “I believe I have you in a compromising position. What if I decide to visit your end of the tub?”
Elsie suddenly gazed directly into the green eyes that so fascinated her. She could only nod her assent before Blake pressed his lips to hers.
Hours later, Blake nudged his wife with his elbow as they lay in bed. “What are you making me for dinner, woman? I’ve worked up quite an appetite.” A drowsy Elsie rolled over to face her husband, barely able to keep her eyes open as she considered a response. “We could go out to eat, but then we’d have to get dressed. It would be great fun if you cooked my dinner in the raw.”
His comment woke Elsie as little else could. “I’ll wear my robe. I’m certainly not cooking for you naked. Have no doubt of that.” As Blake grinned at her, an equally improper scenario occurred. “And you must dress as well. How does a Denver sandwich sound?”
“It sounds practical and delicious. I have married so wisely. Do you love me, Elsie?”
Elsie heaved an exasperated sigh. “I do. I don’t know why, but I do.”
“It’s because our love is eternal, created when God’s hand formed the universe, lasting until the end of time.”
“I think you are a lunatic, Mr. Atherton.”
* * *
Having settled into a congenial silence, Joah drove through the streets of Los Angeles. Natalie turned her head to consider her chauffeur.
“I enjoyed my tour of the shipyard. How long do I have to wait to hear from you again? Or do I simply have Elsie abandon me at the docks in the not too distant future?”
“Leaving you at the docks was a poor idea. It’s no place for a lady. You were lucky not to run into any rough sorts today. And I want to be honest. I enjoyed your kiss and the entire afternoon. If possible, I would wave my princely magic wand and we would spend many happy days together.”
“You don’t need a magic wand for that,” Natalie asserted.
“I told you, this won’t work.”
“You told me lots of things; about how Blake helped you become a gentleman and how our families are dissimilar. None of those things matters to me.”
“What if I told you my parents are drunks? I don’t even know where they are or if they’re still alive. They abandoned me at my grandmother’s house when I was eight. She raised me. I owe everything to her. But she’s a simple lady. She’d be overwhelmed in your world. Your parents would not be impressed.”
“Humanity is changing, Joah. Social status loses more importance every day. My parents can’t be too upset if we go out. You’re a prosperous businessman. You appear every bit a gentleman. I’m not about to be married off to a man of their choosing. When you drop me off, I want you to come inside and ask my parents for permission to court me.”
“My, we are quite the forward girl, are we not? I don’t recall mentioning I’d like to court you.”
“But you do, Joah. No one has ever excited me the way you do. I know you feel the same; I can tell. Why would we not see each other and find out what these feelings mean?”
“And it’s fine with you if I’m honest about my past?”
“I’m not sure we should start out that way. What if they get to know you first?”
“What if I tell you honesty is the only way forward and the only way I’ll consider this?”
Used to having her way, Natalie fought the urge to dig in her heels. She had a feeling willfulness wasn’t a winning strategy with the self-made man sitting in the driver’s seat. “My mother is just returned from suffrage meetings in Nevada. Say what you will.”
By the time Joah pulled in front of Natalie’s home, she appeared a bundle of nerves. Joah seemed unaffected. He offered his arm after helping her out of his car and accompanied her inside. The couple found Mr. Grant poring over the newspaper in the parlor. Mrs. Grant did needlework near the window.
“Mother, Daddy, I want you to meet Joah Brundidge.”
“I believe we’ve met.” Mrs. Grant sounded none too impressed.
Mr. Grant stood and crossed the room to shake Joah’s hand. “What can I do for you, Mr. Brundidge?”
“I’ve come to ask your permission to see Natalie.”
“It’s not a good idea, Mr. Brundidge.” Mrs. Grant returned her attention to her needlework.
“Why, Mother? Because you don’t approve of his dancing? Wouldn’t it be a shallow way to judge a person?”
“We’ll have none of that sass, miss,” Mr. Grant took control of the conversation. “Mr. Brundidge, perhaps you should have your say.”
Joah cleared his throat and began, “I understand why Mrs. Grant doesn’t see me as a prospective suitor. When we met before, I was honest about my social standing. I haven’t any. I’m Blake Atherton’s partner. Our business has made me a wealthy man. Blake’s guidance assures I appear a gentleman. But appearance does nothing to erase my past. I come from poor people, vagrants actually. I was raised by my grandmother—a woman who would feel more at ease in your kitchen than your parlor. I don’t aspire to grandeur. I don’t deserve your daughter. To be honest, we don’t know each other well. I hoped you might consider my attributes and my sincere desire to better know you and your daughter while treating her with the respect she deserves.”
Mrs. Grant replied, “I believe you’ve said quite enough, Mr. Brundidge. We’re considering other suitors for our Natalie. Proper suitors.”
“I don’t believe Natalie is interested in your choices. After all, you’re a staunch proponent of equality for women. Don’t those ideas apply to your own daughter? Would you trade her away for a few head of cattle and some chickens as they did in olden days?”
“Certainly not! What are you suggesting?”
Mr. Grant gave a hearty laugh. “You must admit, dear, the boy has a point. We’ve sent Natalie to a fine school where she learned to think for herself. You’ve certainly demonstrated the importance of women’s rights. Shouldn’t we give her the opportunity to decide for herself whom she will see and eventually, whom she will marry? Why don’t you stay for supper, Mr. Brundidge? I’d like to hear more about you.”
Mr. Grant slapped Joah on the back and directed him toward the dining room. Natalie smirked at her mother before taking Joah’s arm. Mrs. Grant stood fuming in the parlor. Why did it seem everyone in her household had a voice but her? Even the gardener held more sway. Natalie was simply not mature enough to make such decisions. In time, they would all see she’d been correct in this.