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Tracie Peterson (24 page)

BOOK: Tracie Peterson
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“Oy!”
At Pierce’s mention of true love, Darlene had managed to ram the needle beneath her fingernail. Instantly, she put her finger in her mouth and sucked hard to dispel the pain. Tears welled in her eyes, but still she refused to lift her face.

“Are you all right?” Pierce asked.

“Yes. Yes. I’m fine.” She prayed he’d drop the subject or that his father would conclude his business in the back room and both Mr. Blackwells would leave the premises. She studied her finger for a moment then took up her sewing again.

“So, do you have a true love?” he asked.

Darlene barely avoided pricking her finger again. Resigning herself to the path of least pain, she put her sewing down and shook her head. “No. I have no suitors and I’ve never sent valentines. I don’t find myself in the circle of those who dance at fancy parties either for charity or reasons of romantic inclinations.”

“Have you never received a valentine?”

Pierce asked the question in such a serious tone that Darlene had to look up. He seemed very concerned by this matter, almost as though he’d asked if she’d never had decent food to eat.

“No, we don’t celebrate such nonsense. Now, if you’ll please excuse me …” She fell silent at the sound of her father’s voice.

Dennison and Abraham came through the curtain. “I can have both suits ready in time for the ball. You will be pleased I think, Pierce.” Her father beamed a smile first at Pierce and then at her.

“I’m certain I will be, sir.” He turned to Darlene once again. “It was a pleasure, Miss Lewy. I’ve enjoyed our conversation.”

Darlene nodded and, feeling her face grow flushed, she hurried to lower her gaze back to her work.
Oy, but this day has been a trying one already!

Chapter 2

For there is no difference between the Jew and the Greek: for the same Lord over all is rich unto all that call upon him.
R
OMANS
10:12

P
ierce finished doing up the buttons of his satin waistcoat and went to the mirror. He studied the reverse reflection of his cravat as he tied it neatly into place, then gave himself a quick once-over to make certain nothing was left undone. His gleaming dark eyes only served to remind him of another pair of eyes. Just as dark and far more beautiful behind ebony lashes, Darlene Lewy’s eyes were burned into his mind. She had stimulated his thoughts all day, and now as the hearth fires burned brightly for dinner, Pierce had still been unable to put the feisty woman from his mind.

He took up a fine blue frock coat and pulled it on. He adjusted the sleeves and collar, all the while wondering if Darlene would help to sew his new Valentine’s suit. It was silly, he knew, to ponder such useless matters, but the lovely girl would not leave his mind, and for the first time in his twenty-six years, Pierce was rather besotted.

Hearing the chimes announce the hour, Pierce made his way to the drawing room, where he knew he’d find the rest of his family. Constance, his fifteen-year-old sister, sat rigidly proper in her powder-blue silk, while Aunt Eugenia’s ever-critical gaze roamed over her from head to toe in order to point out some flaw. Dennison stood bored and indifferent at the window.

“Good evening,” Pierce said, coming into the room. He walked to his Aunt Eugenia and placed an expected kiss upon each of her heavily powdered cheeks. Then, turning to his sister, he winked and stroked her cheek with his hand. “I see we’re all very much gathered together.”

Dennison turned and nodded with a smile. “There must be a foot of snow out there already.”

Pierce shrugged and took a seat on the couch opposite Eugenia. “It’s a part of winters in New York. I suppose by now we should just expect it, eh?”

“It makes paying one’s obligatory visits very difficult,” Eugenia declared. At forty-four she was a woman of proper elegance and grace. Her dark-brown hair showed only a hint of gray and was swept up into a high arrangement that made her appear a bit taller than her petite frame could actually boast.

“Perhaps New York society will endure your absence for one day,” Pierce suggested with a smile. This made Constance suppress a giggle, but not before Eugenia delivered a scowl of displeasure at her niece.

“Young people today do not understand the obligations of being in the privileged classes. There are rules, both written and unwritten, that simply must be adhered to. It is the responsibility of your elders,” she said, looking directly at Constance, “to ensure that your behavior is acceptable and proper.”

Pierce rolled his eyes. Aunt Eugenia was stuffy enough for them all. Let her adhere to society’s demands and leave the rest of them alone. Changing the subject, Pierce beamed a smile at his sister and asked, “And how did you fill your afternoon, Miss Constance?”

“I wrote thank-you letters,” she said with a hint of boredom.

Constance was a delicate young woman. She was just starting to bloom into womanhood with her tiny figure taking on some more girlish curves. Her dark-brown curls had been childishly tied up with a bow, but nevertheless, Pierce saw the makings of great beauty.

“Well, if the lake freezes over properly, we’ll go ice skating tomorrow, how about that?” Pierce offered.

Constance’s face lit up with excitement, but it was quickly squelched by Eugenia’s overbearing declaration. “Certainly not! Constance has been a bit pale of late. I won’t have her out there in the elements, only to catch her death.”

Pierce looked to his father, the only one really capable of overriding Eugenia. Dennison smiled tolerantly at his sister. “Eugenia, the girl cannot live locked away behind these walls. If she is pale, perhaps it is because her face never sees the light of day. I say let her go and have a good time. Pierce will take proper care of her.”

Constance jumped up and threw her arms around her father’s neck. “Oh, thank you, Papa!”

“Well, that’s settled then,” Pierce said with a nod to his aunt. He was growing ever weary of her mettlesome ways and the only reason he continued to endure them was that she hadn’t actually caused any real harm. Not yet.

“Dinner is served,” remarked a stately butler from the entry door.

“Thank you, Marcus,” Eugenia declared.

Dennison came to her side and offered his arm. With a look of cool reserve, Eugenia allowed him to assist her, leaving Pierce to bring Constance.

“Oh, thank you ever so much, Pierce,” Constance said, squeezing his arm. “You are a lifesaver. I should have completely perished if I’d had to spend even one more day in this house.”

Pierce chuckled. “Well, we couldn’t have that.”

“What did you do today?” Constance asked innocently. “Did you meet anyone new? Did you have a great argument with anyone?”

“How curious you sound.” He led her to her chair at the dining table. “But the answer is no, I did not argue with anyone and yes, I did meet someone new.”

“Oh, do tell me everything!”

“Prayers first.” Constance’s enthusiasm was halted by her father’s declaration.

Grace was said over the meal with a special offer of thanksgiving for their health and safety. With that put aside, dinner was served and a fine, succulent pork roast drew the attention of the Blackwell family.

“So, who did you meet?” Constance questioned, while Pierce cut into a piece of meat.

“I met Father’s tailor, Abraham Lewy, and his daughter, Darlene. She’s very pretty with black hair and dark eyes like yours. Oh, and they have a man who works for them, but I can’t remember his name. He’s only a little older than you and quite dashing.”

Constance blushed. “Is Darlene my age?”

“No,” Pierce replied with a glint in his eye that was not missed by his aunt. “No, she’s definitely older. Probably eighteen or so.”

“She’s twenty,” his father declared. “And quite a beauty.”

“She’s a Jewess,” Eugenia said as though it should put an end to the entire discussion.

“That’s true enough,” Pierce replied, “but Father is correct. She’s quite beautiful.”

“What’s a Jewess?” asked Constance.

“It’s a woman of the Jewish faith.” Dennison replied.

Eugenia sniffed indignantly. “It means she’s not one of us and therefore need not be further discussed at this table.”

“Will she go to the Valentine’s Ball?” Constance refused to let the matter drop.

Pierce shook his head. “She’s never even had a valentine sent to her. Much less danced at a party for such a celebration.”

“I should very much like to go to such a dance.” Constance’s voice was wistful.

“You’ve not yet come of age,” Eugenia declared. “There are the proprieties to consider and if no one else in this family holds regard for such traditions, then I must be the overseer for all.” She sounded as though it might be a tremendous burden, but Pierce knew full well how much Eugenia enjoyed her dramatic role.

“You should ask Miss Lewy to the dance,” Constance told her brother. “If she’s especially pretty and likeable, you could probably teach her all of the right steps.”

Pierce nodded and gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Or, I could just have you teach her. You dance divinely.”

Dennison laughed. “Perhaps our Constance could open her own dance school right here.”

“Perish the thought!” Eugenia exclaimed. “I have enough trouble trying to manage the child without you putting improper ideas in her head.”

Dennison smiled at his children and waved Eugenia off. “It was nothing more than good fun, Sister. Do still your anxious mind or you’ll have a fit of the vapors.”

Dinner passed in relative silence after that. Eugenia’s nose was clearly out of joint and Pierce had little desire to pick up the conversation again if it meant listening to some cold disdain toward Darlene and her kind.

Finally, Eugenia and Constance dismissed themselves to the music room while Pierce and Dennison remained at the table to linger over coffee.

“You seem to have a great deal on your mind.”

Pierce looked at his father and nodded. “I keep thinking about the Lewys.”

“One Lewy in particular, eh?”

“Perhaps Darlene did capture my attention more than Abraham, but you seemed to have him engrossed with the topic of Christianity.”

Dennison pushed back a bit and sighed. “Abraham and I have been having regular talks about our religious differences.”

“How did that get started?”

Dennison looked thoughtful. “His wife died in childbirth fifteen years ago.”

“Just like mother?”

“Yes, it was a strange similarity. They were still in Germany and Darlene was only five. Abraham lost both his wife and their new son.”

“When did they come to America?”

“Only about five years ago. Tensions seem to follow the Jewish people and for a number of reasons Abraham considered the move a wise one. I believe his choice was God-directed. He worked hard to save enough money to make the move and to set up his shop here in New York. I happened upon his work through a good friend of mine and I’ve taken my business to him ever since.”

“How is it I’ve never heard you talk about them?”

Dennison smiled. “You’ve been a very busy man, for one thing. I can’t tell you how good it is to have you back from Europe.”

Pierce finished his coffee and stared thoughtfully at the cup for a moment. “I’ve never been at home in New York. I can’t explain it. I wasn’t at home in London or Paris, either. I guess I know that somewhere out there, there’s a place where I will be happy, but stuck in the middle of Aunt Eugenia’s social calendar isn’t the place for me.”

Dennison chuckled. “Nor for me, although my dear sister would believe it so. After your mother died, God rest her soul, Eugenia hounded me to death to remarry. Of course, there was Constance to consider. Such a tiny infant and hardly able to find nourishment in that weak canned milk cook gave her. Hiring a wet nurse was the only thing that saved that girl’s life.”

“It is a strange connection between us and the Lewys. Both mothers perished and they lost their baby as well. It must have been very hard on Darlene as well. A five-year-old would have a difficult time understanding the loss. I was eleven and struggled to understand it myself.”

“Yes, but you had faith in the resurrection. You knew that your mother loved Christ as her Savior. I think the death of his wife caused Abraham to question his faith rather than find strength in it. When I first met him we discussed things of insignificant value. Darlene was much like Constance, gangly and awkward. All little girl running straight into womanhood. Oh, and very shy. She would scarcely peek her head out to see what her father was doing.”

Pierce smiled, trying to image Darlene in the form of Constance. “I’ll bet she was just as pretty as she is now.”

Dennison looked at his son for a moment. “Don’t buy yourself a heartache.”

This sobered Pierce instantly. “What are you saying? Surely you don’t follow Aunt Eugenia’s snobbery because the Lewys are not of our social standing?”

“No, not at all. Social standing means very little if you have no one to love or be loved by. Money has never been something to offer comfort for long.” Dennison leaned forward. “No, I’m speaking of the theological difference. You are a Christian, Pierce. You accepted Christ as your Savior at an early age and you’ve accepted the Bible as God’s Holy Word. Darlene doesn’t believe like you do, nor will she turn away from the faith of her fathers easily. Marrying a woman who is not of your faith is clearly a mistake. The Bible says to not be unequally yoked with nonbelievers.”

“But I wasn’t talking marriage,” Pierce protested and looked again to his coffee cup.

“Weren’t you?” Dennison looked hard at his son and finally Pierce had to meet his father’s gaze. “Be reasonable, Pierce. You found yourself attracted to this young woman. Where would you take it from this point? Friendship? I find it hard to believe it would stop there, but there it must stop.”

“You’ve worked to change Abraham’s mind. Why can I not work to change Darlene’s?”

“I have no problem with you desiring to share your faith with others. But I think you should seek your heart for the motivation. If this is a personal and selfish thing, you may well cause more harm than good. However, if you truly feel called of God to speak to Darlene, then by all means do so, but leave your emotions out of it.”

BOOK: Tracie Peterson
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