The Property of a Lady - Elizabeth Adler [145]
“Hello,” she said shyly. “Thank you for inviting me onto your boat. It’s beautiful. Are we going to sail soon?”
He stared at her thoughtfully. “Whenever you like, little girl,” he said. “Just tell the captain we are ready and we’ll be on our way.”
They hung over the rail, watching as the big yacht sailed down the Hudson and out into the ocean. The air was soft, just a light ocean breeze, and Missie lay back in a steamer chair with her eyes closed, feeling relaxed and happy. She wondered guiltily what O’Hara would think if he could see her now. But O’Hara was always busy these days, traveling around the country—“Expanding his business” he called it. Besides, he still thought she was working for Madame Elise. It was a good thing he never set foot on Broadway because then he would know how she had deceived him. She thought about Zev, wondering where he had gone. She missed their Sunday nights at the Ukrainian café. And oddly enough, she really missed him too. There was only Rosa left to keep her feet on the ground, and she couldn’t wait to tell her about Eddie Arnhaldt because he really was the most handsome and most charming man she had ever met.
The lazy sunny day drifted past like a dream. The baron spent a lot of time with Azaylee, showing her how things worked, treating her like a grown-up at lunch. Afterward they lingered on deck, inspecting the little seaports through his high-powered telescope and admiring passing boats until finally, pleasantly tired, they sailed back down the coast. Missie leaned on the deck rail with Eddie beside her, watching the full moon emerging from the horizon, and he said quietly, “I shall never forget the first time I saw you, but now I’m getting to know you I see so many other facets. I have enjoyed today, Verity.” She wished he would take her hand as they gazed at each other longingly, or even kiss her—but he did not. And as she drove away in his limousine she realized that he had said nothing about seeing her tomorrow.
Ziegfeld questioned her about Arnhaldt the next day, and she told him enthusiastically that everything was all right. Eddie was delightful company. Why, he had even invited her out with her sister. He nodded brusquely and said, “Well, remember I told you first—take care.”
She didn’t hear from Eddie on Monday, or Tuesday, and when he finally sent her a note on Wednesday asking her to have dinner with him, she was overwhelmed with relief and happiness. He would send the car for her, he said, and would be waiting at Rector’s. She dressed with special care that night in her red taffeta dress with flesh-colored stockings and matching red beribboned high-heeled shoes. She swept up her hair at the sides and pinned it with Cartier’s diamond stars, she painted her mouth with Violette Elise and sprayed herself with Elise’s special perfume, distilled from a dozen types of lilies. And as she checked her appearance in the mirror, she knew that for the first time she was dressing to please a man.
She hurried through Rector’s crowded foyer, following the waiter up the wide stairs without a glance right or left. And this time when he showed her into a private dining room she did not object.
Eddie watched her carefully as she came into the room. She looked lovely in that dress, a tempting little morsel, if not quite enough for a man with such a large appetite. He smiled at her, remembering his duty. And by now he knew it was justified.
“Verity, you are so beautiful tonight,” he said reverently.
She smiled, glancing nervously at the table set for two.
“I hope you don’t mind?” he said. “This time I need to be alone with you. Please, I beg of you, don’t say no. I must speak with you.” His eyes gathered her to him and instinctively she stepped a pace closer. “Alone,” he added quietly.
He limped toward the waiting ice bucket and poured champagne. “A toast to your beautiful eyes,” he said, clicking his heels together and bowing slightly. Then he took a small parcel from the table. “I can’t wait for you to open it,” he said,