The Wedding Dress(36)

“We have no complaints from our overseers.”

“But you do from the citizens, Phillip.” Emily stepped into the conversation. “The convicts live in deplorable conditions and they’re treated brutally. Father has horses and hounds that fare better.”

“Emily—” Phillip’s glare demanded her quiet submission.

“They’re men, not animals.”

“They’re convicts, Miss Canton.” Mr. Wainscot’s tone was devoid of his previous charm. “They’re paying their debts to society.”

“Leg irons, hard labor for a misdemeanor? Half starving, whippings for the smallest infraction. It’s barbaric and beneath a Southern gentleman’s ways.” She leaned close to Wainscot. “And they’re all colored.”

“I didn’t know you cared, Emily. They’ve received due process.”

“From a white jury and white judges, who give cruel and unusual punishment they’d not hand down to white men. Not for the same offense. I don’t see white convicts assigned to this leasing program. The men are cheated, made to work longer than their sentence, to pay for what? Living in squalor? Lining the pockets of the mine owners and crooks who run the city?”

“Miss Canton.” Mr. Wainscot squinted at her. She braced for his shallow rebuttal. He burst out laughing and clapped Phillip on the shoulder. “Phillip, you have a spitfire here. Intelligent. Speaks her mind with eloquence. Even better than most men. Perhaps she’ll study to be admitted into the bar. Or take up management in the Saltonstall offices.”

Phillip chuckled as if Wainscot surely had to be joking. “Emily has no such aspirations.”

“How do you know, Phillip?” Emily said. “Have you asked me? It’s men like you two that make women want the vote, so we can bring some civility and humanity to politics.”

“My dear.” Phillip wrapped his hand about her waist and pressed her to him. “You sound like pamphlet rhetoric. I thought you didn’t care for the suffrage meetings. Hear now, it’s our party. Why don’t we”—the orchestra began a waltz—“dance?”

“Yes, of course.” Emily dabbed the moisture from her forehead with the handkerchief tucked against her palm. “I’m sorry, Phillip, I didn’t realize all of that was inside me.”

“Then you surprised us both.” He held her face in his hands and stroked his thumbs over her lips, sending a buzz through her. “But you’re beautiful when you’re fiery. It makes me want—” His lips covered hers and Emily clung to him, and his passion. When Phillip released her, she fell against his chest.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“You didn’t embarrass me, love, but make no mistake, I am a man like Herschel Wainscot. A businessman in this city, working to make it better for all of us. Hersh is a bit arrogant, but he’s a reasonable, solid character.” Phillip brushed his hand over her cheek as he started to waltz her about the room. Step, turn, step, turn. “I never tire of looking at you, Emily. You’re so very, very lovely.” His low, romantic tone wooed her. His eyes gripped hers and she felt locked into him.

“You are most dear, handsome Phillip. I don’t mean to cause you any trouble.”

“I look forward to our wedding night. Perhaps you’ll reserve some of your fire and passion for me there.”

“Phillip,” she whispered, burning with embarrassment, though his intentions awakened her desires.

“Don’t worry, darling, I’ll teach you.” His lips caressed the soft flesh at the base of her ear with no regard for the room full of friends and family who might be watching.

Emily shifted her head away from him. It was not their wedding night yet. Though, obviously, he’d like it to be so.

“Phillip, may I ask you something?”

“Anything.” He spun Emily about the floor with grace and ease.

“Do you know Mr. Wainscot’s friend, Emmeline? Where is she from?”

“I know what you know, dear Emily. Just met her tonight.”

Wainscot appeared through the dancing couples, the willowy woman in his arms. “Phillip, do your ole pal a favor. For the grand ole frat, Phi Delt. Dance with Emmeline, and let me take a turn around the floor with this vision of a woman you call your fiancée.” He lifted Emily’s hand from Phillip’s and twirled Emmeline into Phillip’s arms. Wainscot settled his hand on Emily’s back, her palm in his, and danced them away.

“Thank you, dear Emily, you rid me of that silly dame.” Herschel stepped her around the floor, light on his feet. Emily’s skirt swished against her legs. “You’re the most beautiful woman here tonight, and I’ve never been so jealous of my best pal.”

Emily darted her gaze to the floor as they turned, heat creeping along her neck. How did he expect her to respond?

“Mr. Wainscot.” Emily raised her chin, keeping her voice light and airy, boasting a smile. “If the dame is silly, why’d you force her onto my Phillip?” She coyly peered around his shoulder to see Phillip dancing with Emmeline as if her form was familiar to him. As if her curves belonged beneath his palm.

“Because I wanted to dance with you.” He exhaled, his port-tainted breath brushing over Emily’s hair. “Phillip’s always had the luck with the ladies. I remember our first day on campus, he had the girls fawning all over him. I decided then he’d be my best friend.”