She looked triumphant. “Dickie has been neutralized,” she proudly announced. “The editor at The Washington Post got wind of his two new horses and threatened to fire him. Dickie is terrified. If he loses his job, his ability to be the biggest gadfly in Washington will be ruined, but the Post is worried about those horses. They’ve issued a complete and total retraction about the article he wrote, and he won’t be printing any more stories at the behest of the Magruders.”

“How did the editor find out about the horses?”

Caroline slanted him a glance as though he was a simpleton. “I told him, of course, but Dickie doesn’t know that. He’s merely grateful for my help salvaging his reputation with his editor by facilitating an exclusive interview about the president’s marriage.”

“Why on earth would anyone want to read such a thing?”

“People are wildly curious about it,” Caroline defended. “Ida McKinley is the least popular first lady in history, and it’s becoming a problem for the reelection. One of those vile political cartoons depicted the first lady as a harpy with the president curled up like a poodle in her lap. It’s true that he brings her flowers every day. It’s true that even during the darkest days of the war, he left cabinet meetings to say bedtime prayers with her before returning downstairs for business. People want to know what he sees in her.”

In all honesty, Gray had wondered as well. While he didn’t approve of the president, William McKinley’s steadfast devotion to his wife was a credit to him.

Caroline continued. “My goal is to bolster her image—not for her sake, but because it will show the president in a good light. I’ve got one month before the election to do everything possible to see McKinley win a second term.”

The desperation in her tone hinted at something beyond politics. “Why is that so important to you?”

“How else can I get a presidential pardon for Luke?”

It took a moment for the stunning pronouncement to sink in. “That’s your goal?”

“That’s always been my goal,” she asserted. “I’m not a lawyer who can defend Luke in court or a warrior who could break him out of prison, but I’ve got access to powerful people, and I intend to use it to save my brother.”

He understood. Since the minute he learned of Luke’s arrest, he’d been preoccupied with the awful finality of a life sentence. Their family would never be whole while Luke was stuck in a six-by-ten-foot jail cell, his fate in limbo.

Exhaustion set in as he leaned his head against the back wall, gazing at Caroline fondly. “All right,” he murmured. “I understand.”

She sobered. “Now, tell me how Luke is doing.”