Gray leaned forward, his face even more serious than usual. “Philip, if you need money, come to me. I can help with investments that will be easier than taking second jobs at night.”

“Stop it, Gray. You’re embarrassing him.” She returned Philip’s slide rule with the cursor back in place, and he sent her a grateful smile but sobered quickly as he rotated the slide rule in his hands. It suddenly seemed as if a world of sadness overcame him.

“Actually, the dance classes help get my mind off Luke,” Philip finally said. “I feel so helpless. Sometimes I just need to forget.”

Her heart turned over and she felt rotten about teasing him, because Luke’s arrest had hit Philip hard too. The three of them had become extraordinarily close over the past few months, and they were learning together how to cope with this new and terrible feeling of despair.

And if the president didn’t win the election in November, they would be more helpless than ever.

As election day drew near, it consumed all of Nathaniel’s waking hours. In two weeks, the president would be casting his vote in his hometown of Canton, Ohio. That meant guarding the entire presidential party on the train to Ohio and then during the four-day visit.

Nathaniel had never been to Canton and would be forced to lean on the local police for help. Security on election day would be a nightmare, with thousands of people swarming around the president, and potential assassins surely salivated at the chance to strike during a high-profile event. Planning for the upcoming train ride and the festivities in Canton required all his attention, and yet here he sat, silently fuming over the latest outrage from Caroline Delacroix.

This morning’s kitchen break-in should have been reported immediately. He could forgive her for waiting until the household was awake. He could even overlook the delay while she conducted her regular morning check-in with the first lady.

But first she’d paid calls around town, then had lunch with the household staff, then consulted with the cook about some menus. In the afternoon she hosted a tea alongside the first lady and a group of local suffragettes.

Unbelievably, she then took a leisurely stroll in the conservatory for almost an hour. An hour! He fumed, giving her all the rope she needed to hang herself. But instead of taking two minutes to write him a note about the unauthorized access someone in her circle had orchestrated to deliver a basket of artichokes, she headed upstairs to change for dinner. Like many rich people, she indulged in the affectation of dressing for dinner. Dinner was a small affair tonight, with only the president’s chaplain and a few of his old army friends in attendance. In light of Caroline’s birthday, she had been invited as well.