Free Love in the Balance by Regina Jennings Page B

responsibility. He was persevering.
    Maybe God could find a use for someone like him.

    “All week her father has boasted about the gentleman from New York who dined with Nicholas and him.” Adele Lovelace beamed at Edward as she directed the waiter to add cream to her tea. “And I had to wait until today to meet the man who convinced Thomas that Molly must stay in Lockhart. For days my curiosity has been denied, but I must confess the pleasure of your acquaintance was worth the wait.”
    The candelabrum sparkled, scattering its reflected light across the sapphire walls and the cherry buffet. Who would’ve thought the private dining room at the McCulloch Hotel would be so elegant? When Molly’s mother began to press for an introduction to their most promising candidate, Molly had stalled, but once the practicality of furthering their ruse became clear, she feared that Edward would not be up to the task of impressing her more finicky parent.
    She needn’t have worried.
    The paste jewels in her mother’s plumed hat clinked against each other with each nod as Edward shared tidbits of New York society gossip. He spoke with a quiet authority, the power of his voice being all that was necessary to knit together a world completely foreign to them. Molly could almost forget that her interest in him was contrived, for he possessed the knack of turning words into reality. Music seemed to swell above the sound of the rowdy Friday dinner crowd in the public area. The scent of lilies filled Molly’s head, although the Chinese vases held odorless silk flowers.
    Long after the waiter had removed their empty plates, after the proprietor had asked if they required any further service, Edward continued his tales as Adele pretended to recognize the names he dropped like shimmering gold coins into a marble fountain.
    “The opulence I can only imagine.” The flames from the candelabrum reflected in Adele’s eyes. “You must think us entirely gauche—riding up to meet you in a lumber wagon.”
    Molly’s father roused himself from his after-supper nap, the cushion of his seat hissing under the pressure. “Russell had to make a deposit at the bank, and we had planks to deliver. Three birds with one stone.” His eyes closed again drowsily as his head tilted to his shoulder.
    From the corner of her eye, Molly could tell that Edward had turned his golden gaze toward her. To blush would be to acknowledge his lovelorn expression. She looked to her mother instead and was shocked to see more warmth, more appreciation in her smile than she’d ever witnessed before. All because of the approval of a stranger.
    Her father was no better. Thomas Lovelace had followed the conversation closely during the meal. After reflection, he had admitted a familiarity with the Pierrepont family—not that he knew them, really, but he had heard of them, something to do with foreign affairs in Washington. Whatever the case, he was impressed, and once Edward’s suitability was established, Thomas’s interest waned. They might as well call Reverend Stoker and settle the matter.
    Edward was still looking at her. Molly’s heart hiccuped. Edward Pierrepont was the real McCoy, connected to the best families of the land. Could life in New York truly glitter as he described? She folded her napkin and laid it on the table. He told good stories—that was all. If she wasn’t careful, she’d believe the rest of his tale—that she was the sole reason for him to stay in town, that he couldn’t bear to leave without her. Foolishness, but a tantalizing foolishness at that.
    “Thomas, wake up,” her mother said. “Russell is probably waiting on us.”
    “He can wait.” But her father grunted and strained to rise out of his chair. “It’s been a real pleasure, Mr. Pierrepont. You’ll come out to our place next time, won’t you?”
    Edward held Molly’s chair as she rose. “I’d love to, Mr. Lovelace, but my time here is uncertain. I’m on my way north and