Chapters (50)
- Cover
- Half Title Page
- Books by Elizabeth Camden
- Title Page
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Historical Note
- Questions for Discussion
- In 2021, look for Luke Delacroix’s story in
- About the Author
- Back Ads
- Back Cover
She collapsed onto the stone bench, doubling over and drawing deep breaths of air. Nathaniel dropped to the bench with her. “Are you all right?” he asked. “Caroline?”
She couldn’t even speak, just nod, for Luke still had a chance.
Fifteen
The day Nathaniel returned to Washington, the weight of responsibility began to lift. He had designed a plan to secure the White House and keep the president safe while traveling. He could leave the job with a clean conscience. All he needed was Wilkie’s signature on his transfer papers, and then he could turn them in to the Secretary of the Treasury and begin his new assignment back in the counterfeit division.
Except Wilkie was being difficult. His wedding anniversary was tomorrow, and he wanted to go shopping for a gift. Nathaniel needed to turn these papers in today, or his transfer couldn’t take effect for another month.
Refusing to be put off, he followed Wilkie through half a dozen shops in search of the perfect gift for Mrs. Wilkie. After unsuccessful trips to a jeweler, a silversmith, and a milliner, they were now visiting a perfume store, where Wilkie sampled countless bottles of overpriced imported perfume.
Perfume! This was a man who had once wrestled a bear and waded into a gang of rioting strikers in Chicago. Now he sampled perfume with an embarrassing level of fascination. He spritzed a bit onto a paper card and wafted it before his nose, looking faintly disappointed.
“What do you think of this one?” Wilkie asked, holding the paper toward Nathaniel. They were probably the only two men to ever grace this frilly shop. The walls were covered in lavender fabric, and the glass counters were decorated with floral arrangements.
“I think it’s magnificent and your wife will adore it. Now, how about you sign this transfer request?” Nathaniel said, setting the paper on the counter. “I’ve even brought the pen.”
Wilkie ignored the form and slid the bottle back toward the pretty female clerk. “The bottom notes are musky and alluring, but the lilac top notes . . . well, it smells like something my grandmother would have worn. What else have you got? What fragrance sells the moment you offer it? Price is no concern. My wife has endured a year of monstrous neglect from me, and I am of a mind to buy something special.”
The clerk shrugged. “Our best-selling perfume comes from Kentucky. A blend of rose and night-blooming jasmine. It’s not terribly expensive, but the ladies love it.”
Wilkie looked skeptical. “Kentucky?” he muttered. “It’s going to be hard to impress Jennette with something from Kentucky, but let’s have a whiff.”
While the clerk reached for a bottle, Nathaniel slipped the document forward. “If you sign this now, I can still get it submitted ahead of the monthly deadline.”
“Not now. I’m shopping.”