Chapter 2
The next day
Louisville, Kentucky
D wight “D.J.” Christiansen expertly directed his hansom cab to a stop alongside the curb in front of Madame C. Grunder’s well-known, high-end modiste shop located on Green Street—the shop to frequent for wealthier patrons.
Sliding open the trapdoor near the rear of the roof, he smiled down at the passenger who had recently become a regular fare. “Here we are.”
The pair of large, brown eyes staring misty-eyed up at him belonged to Penelope Haldeman, a headstrong and impetuous young girl. She and her wealthy, bank-owner father, Benjamin Haldeman, had hired Dwight’s cab numerous times over the last few months to go see plays at the theater or social outings in the evenings. The widower obviously doted on and pampered his only child. Dwight knew the man was doing his best to train up his daughter in the practiced arts of presenting herself as a refined lady, and that she was thusly expected to be the mistress of the house and help him host their many parties. This past week alone, Dwight had been summoned on more than one occasion to take the girl to the modiste’s shop for fittings in addition to other appointments in preparation for a rather large party at the Haldeman mansion.
“Thank you, Dwight,” the girl purred, allowing her eyes to roam over his features as if he were the hero in a dime novel—or a delectable filet mignon on a gold-rimmed plate. “Will you wait for me?”
Dwight suppressed a sigh of annoyance. The hero worship this young girl heaped upon him had grown old with the speed of a highballing locomotive. She must have seen hesitation in his eyes, as she rushed on, “My father will pay extra for you to do so.”
It had all started the first evening her father had hailed Dwight’s cab to take them to the Buckingham Theater for a performance. On the way, Dwight had skillfully maneuvered out of the path of a runaway spider phaeton—a jaunty model sporting four extravagantly large wheels and pulled by two extremely wild-eyed horses. He managed the feat in the barest nick of time, thereby avoiding a collision and—in the words of the girl’s father—saved their very lives. Since that night, it had seemed to Dwight that young Miss Haldeman had found every excuse she possibly could to engage his services. He would bet a week’s pay she hadn’t even celebrated her sixteenth birthday yet.
“Please?” she added now, blinking up at him with a silly amount of coquettish eyelash fluttering.
Figuring that during the time Miss Haldeman would be occupied in the shop he might not find other riders needing his cab on this slow Monday morning, he glanced around and spotted a shade tree nearby that was big enough to get out of the sweltering, mid-summer, Ohio Valley sun for the ensuing wait.
Acquiescing with a tip of his hat, he murmured, “Yes, miss. I’ll wait.”
The girl’s countenance lit up with such a delighted smile, one would think that he was her Prince Charming and had just invited her to the ball to end all balls. Her blond curls cascading from underneath her fashionable hat bounced as she brought her gloved hands together in silent applause, rather like a small child being given a prize. “Oh, that’s marvelous! Thank you, Dwight!”
Sliding the hatch in the roof closed, Dwight couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he climbed down out of the driver’s perch. Opening the half door of the open-air cab, he extended a hand to help the young lady alight.
Once she had stepped onto the brick sidewalk, she retained hold of his hand with a surprisingly strong grip and gazed adoringly up into his face as he tried to gently extract his hand from hers. “I’ll try to hurry…” she was saying, “and today Madame Grunder is supposed to be finished with the gown she’s making for Father’s party next Friday. I…I hope you’ll like it.”
His brows furrowed at this. “Me, Miss Haldeman?” He doubted he would even have occasion to see the creation, much less form an opinion.
“Oh, please, won’t you call me Penny? I’ve asked you to do so, several times…”
Dwight pressed his lips together, not wishing to encourage her in this overly personal exchange as the whole thing was making him decidedly uncomfortable. Indeed, her father had witnessed her calling him by his first name on one occasion, and the scowl the man had bestowed upon the hapless cab driver would have made any man cringe and stand down.
“That wouldn’t be proper, Miss Haldeman. Your father wouldn’t like that,” he reminded her yet again. Then, before she could argue, he scampered back up into the driver’s box and added, “I’ll be right over there, miss. Take your time.” Then, he flicked Pepper’s reins and the big wheels of the small conveyance rolled smoothly over to the blessed shade.
Setting the brake, he climbed down and made sure Pepper was comfortable before taking off his top hat to swipe his forehead. “Gadzooks, it’s hot today,” he mumbled, musing that it was still early and his shirt was already wet with perspiration.
Turning his head as he reached up to unfasten several buttons at the neck of his black wool suit jacket, which his boss insisted he and his fellow driver wear, he glanced back toward the door of the shop where he found his passenger still standing. The longing look she was aiming his way set his teeth on edge. When she realized that he had caught her woolgathering, she turned and quickly hurried inside the building.
“Son of a biscuit, this has got to stop,” he grumbled as he flopped down at the base of the big tree. Dropping his hat down next to him on the grass, he stretched out his legs and crossed them at the
