Threads West, an American Saga by Reid Lance Rosenthal

Author:Reid Lance Rosenthal
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: historical fiction, historical romance, american history, bestseller, award winning, reid lance rosenthal, threads west
Publisher: Reid Lance Rosenthal

*****

Inga was not entirely sure what to make of Rebecca Marx. There was something familiar about her, her name, mannerisms and pattern of speech, but Inga could not place exactly what gave her the feeling.

She had grown accustomed to a wide variety of guests and visitors to the mansion, and she had unabashedly taken full advantage of her looks with the mayor and her innate ability to organize and charm. In just months, she had been rapidly promoted from the janitorial staff to the reception staff.

She usually assigned herself to attend the visiting males. She took special delight in achieving a fine balance between their interest and the strict prohibition against male touch or sexual interaction she had imposed upon herself in her new job. At least this guest will not have to be fended off, she thought to herself, walking toward the bottom of the right-side stairway, Rebecca several meters behind.

Inga came to an abrupt stop as the mayor’s voice echoed from the other side of the room. “This must be milady Rebecca Marx.”

Inga pursed her lips slightly. His voice is so much higher-pitched than one might expect from a man in a position of power.

Bustling across the floor, a wide smile cemented itself between the tremors of his pudgy cheeks. His rotund frame and average height were accentuated by knee stockings that clung to stocky calves until they disappeared at the bottom of leggings that ballooned in an upward taper from his knee to the top of his thigh. His long-tailed vest was open to a starched, white, ruffled shirt. The bright, green fabric was too tight around his shoulders and imparted a peculiar twist to the dark gray of the wide lapels, where they flared wide at his collar bone and tapered to a mere point of fabric at his hips. Though no longer the style of the day, his cheekbones showed a hint of rouge.

Looking down at the floor, Inga tried to hide her inward snicker as he approached Rebecca, his eyes moving hungrily from her feet to her shoulders. He has certainly chosen his attire unwisely for this occasion.

She glanced at Rebecca, who was facing the mayor with a forced smile. The mayor was not much taller than Rebecca’s five foot four inches. Bowing forward clumsily, he grabbed one of her hands and raised her wrist to his lips.

“Milady Marx. Ferdinando Wood, mayor of the great city of New York at your service. It is truly such a pleasure to meet you. I was appalled to hear of Henry’s untimely death. He was a God-fearing, successful, adventurous soul. Though he often talked of you, I had no idea his daughter was so radiantly lovely and charming.”

Inga started at the mention of Henry Marx’s name. Could this really be his daughter? Perhaps that would explain the vague sense of recognition.

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