(eng) M. K. Hobson - Veneficas Americana 02 by The Hidden Goddess

Author:The Hidden Goddess [Goddess, The Hidden]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Red Hand,

Gold-Colored Eye

It was almost 2 a.m. by the time the carriage conveying Emily and Rose arrived at the safe location of Stanton’s promising. When Emily saw where she was being sent, she felt like climbing out of the carriage, turning tail, and taking her chances on a bench in Central Park.

“Oh, how elegant!” Rose breathed as the carriage came to a stop before the Stanton family brownstone on Thirty-fourth Street. “How sophisticated! Of course Mr. Stanton would have grown up in a place like this. Like a prince in a castle!”

Emily let out a long breath through clenched teeth. A prince with frogs for parents. That certainly was a new twist on the old stories.

At least the Senator actively ignored her. But Stanton’s mother … Oh, she was going to just love having her son’s malingering fiancée turn up on her doorstep, unannounced, at two in the morning. This was going to be a night to remember, though Emily doubted that she’d wish to.

Emily and Rose climbed the high narrow stairs to the heavy oak door. No light showed through the leaded glass window. Rose seized the handle of the bell and gave it three insistent pulls. There was a long wait, but finally the light of a lamp bobbed up the hallway and Broward came to the door, silver-templed and forbidding. His face was a mask of unpleasantness—unpleasantness that tempered itself only slightly when he saw that it was Emily who waited on the doorstep.

“Miss Edwards!” he said. He looked at Rose. “What can I do for you at this hour?”

“Mr. Stanton has sent a note,” Rose said, briskly offering an envelope. Broward took it between two reluctant fingers, as if he were taking a soiled handkerchief. Then he opened the door and ushered them into the entryway, which was tall and decorated with classical urns.

“If you’ll wait here, I’ll go wake the Senator and Mrs. Stanton,” he said.

Emily and Rose sat on a pair of chairs upholstered in slippery horsehair. Rose was beside herself at the honor of being admitted into the Stanton family home. She kept looking around herself like a child at an amusement park.

“How refined!” she chattered to herself. “Such excellent taste! Do you know the Stantons were one of the first families in New York? Mr. Stanton’s grandfather was a general in the War of 1812, and Mr. Stanton’s great-great-grandfather was the state’s first attorney general.” Rose paused, giggling as if catching herself being silly. “But of course you know that! You’re going to marry him, after all.”

Emily said nothing. She hadn’t known any of it. It hadn’t occurred to her to research Stanton’s family tree, but she certainly wasn’t going to admit that to Rose.

“Yes, the Stantons are very distinguished,” was all she said.

After a long time, Broward came back down.

“Mrs. Stanton is in the library. Follow me, please.”

Mrs. Stanton was sitting in a carved walnut chair, her back perfectly straight. She was immaculately turned out, having obviously taken the time to dress with great care.

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