The Perfect Wife by Jane Goodger

Author:Jane Goodger [Goodger, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

It was, perhaps, the most daring thing either girl had ever done. They'd both heard of the parties held on yachts anchored off Newport. In the summertime, one could hear the music and laughter coming from them, traveling smoothly and cleanly across the water, hinting at decadence and sin. They had been warned away from such parties as a child is warned away from being naughty with threats of a visit from a boogeyman.

Jake Morrison was devilishly handsome and supremely rich. He had dimples in his lean cheeks, a cleft in his strong chin, eyes that were green and gray and blue, with a bit of gold splashed for even more dramatic affect. His voice was low and soothing, his manner polite, and yet Anne felt intensely uncomfortable with him. It seemed that every look, every touch, no matter how innocent, had some other darker meaning that apparently Anne was supposed to understand. He talked with her as if she were worldly and sophisticated, and Anne did her best to act the part. He was not insulting the way those married men who had propositioned her were. Oh, not so blatant as that. Truth be told, it was rather flattering to have a man of Morrison's renown pay special attention to her and treat her as if she were beautiful and special. Anne didn't think she'd ever manage to completely relax when she was with him; she felt a bit like a tiny animal being stalked by a tiger. But with Henry flirting with Annette Bissette—a girl she decided she loathed—she couldn't help but to say yes to his invitation.

Beatrice, at first shocked at the prospect of attending such a party, warmed to the idea until she was so full of expectation, Anne hadn't the heart to tell her she wanted to send her regrets.

Jake sent her three dozen roses tied together with a string of pearls on the eve of the party. While Beatrice oohed and ahhed over the extravagance, Anne fretted about how inappropriate it was for him to have sent them to her. She would thank him for the flowers and return the pearls. Beatrice agreed, but sighed over the perfectly matched pearls that gleamed softly against her throat when she tried them on.

"Marrying Jake Morrison wouldn't be the worst thing in the world," Beatrice said as she pulled on Anne's laces, making her gasp. It was nearing midnight and the two had dismissed their maids for fear someone would discover their plan to attend such a forbidden event.

Anne rolled her eyes. "I thought our only goal this season was Henry."

Beatrice dropped a deep green silk dress over Anne's head, then proceeded to work on the tiny buttons at the back. "It wouldn't hurt to have Mr. Morrison waiting in the wings when all this was over. I hear he has a mansion in Philadelphia that takes up an entire city block."

"I like my town house."

"But Anne, Jake Morrison. Jake. Morrison."

Anne shrugged.

"My turn," Beatrice said, presenting her back and loosened stays to Anne.

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