Behind her, the maid adjusted one final pin before stepping back with an approving nod. Jane had managed to sweep all Nora’s unruly locks into place, forming a thick knot of braids and twists that pulled all her hair into a style that was far too impressive to be called a chignon. It deserved some lofty description to match the maid’s efforts.
A knock sounded softly at the door, and Jane moved to answer it, ushering in Papa before taking her leave. Nora’s gaze found his in the mirror, and those eyes that had been as hard as steel over the past few days softened as he examined her.
“Well,” he said, closing the door behind him, “if every man tonight does not fall madly in love with you, they ought to have their eyesight examined.”
Nora managed a faint smile as Papa crossed over to stand behind her.
“I apologize if I upset you the other day,” he said, giving her a tender smile. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, but I found myself quite unable to remain calm when my son was saying such awful things. I do not know what to do with the boy. Harlow may be a lazy good-for-nothing, but at least he has the sense to cause trouble far from here.”
A pause followed that, and Papa’s gaze grew unfocused as though looking back at what had unfolded just four short days ago, and though Nora’s hands tightened in her skirts, she found her voice.
“Lionel is simply concerned—”
Papa’s eyes sharpened on her. “He is a spoiled pup who cannot trust the man who has given him everything, Nora. Do not believe otherwise.”
No good would come from trying to convince him otherwise, so Nora held her tongue and nodded, which earned her a broad smile. Drawing closer, Papa lifted a long leather case for her inspection.
“An apology,” he explained, his eyes alight. “And a token of my gratitude for your loyalty.”
Opening the lid, Papa revealed a bracelet nestled in the black velvet. Sapphires stood out big and bold, each deep blue stone encircled by small diamonds that caught the lamplight, the clusters separated by delicate pearls. This was no trinket.Though this was not the first bit of jewelry she owned, this was more akin to something she borrowed from Mama for special occasions.
“I thought you might wish to wear it tonight,” added Papa as he lifted it from the case and fastened it around her wrist.
“It is lovely,” she whispered, though her heart gave a stutter when it brought to mind the last grand piece of jewelry she’d received.
“Do you not care for it?” asked Papa, crouching beside her.
Nora’s gaze jerked to his, and she forced a smile. “Of course I do. I am simply surprised. That is all.”
“If it is not to your liking, then we can replace it tomorrow,” he added. “The jeweler had a good many pieces that might catch your fancy, but this one was too perfect to overlook.”
Nora forced herself to breathe. London jewelers produced thousands upon thousands of pieces every year, and this style was hardly unique. The similarities were naught but coincidence, and she would not allow this gift to be tainted by another. Pushing that thought firmly aside and rising from the dressing table, Nora threw her arms around him.
“No, Papa, it is beautiful. Thank you.” Nora stepped back again, lifting her wrist so the sapphires caught the warm glow of the lamps in brilliant flashes of blue and white. And in a far steadier voice, she said, “I adore it.”
“And it is perfectly suited to you. I knew the instant I saw it that you ought to have it.” His gaze swept approvingly over her gown and coiffure before settling warmly upon her face. “You look magnificent tonight, Nora.”
Something inside her softened: this was the father she knew. The generous one. The warm one who delighted in spoiling his daughters and making them laugh. All that ugliness the other day was a part of him as well, but everyone knew Virgil Eden’stemper burned bright, and Lionel ought to have known better than to cause such a fuss.
Everyone had their flaws, and could she condemn Papa simply because his was more visible when roused? Nora was infinitely grateful that hers were easily hidden away.
By the time they arrived at the Trivetts’ home, the bracelet no longer felt strange upon Nora’s wrist. It caught the light whenever she moved, flashing blue and white against the rich color of her gown as Papa handed her from the carriage and led her inside with her hand tucked securely upon his arm. And each time it glittered, she found herself glancing down at it with a smile.
Inside, lamps burned warmly in the drawing room, reflecting off the gilt-framed mirrors and polished mahogany tables already arranged for play. Conversation moved in lively pockets rather than one great roar, punctuated by the soft slap of cards, the chink of counters, and occasional bursts of laughter from those whose skill proved less impressive than their confidence.
Papa drew greetings from every corner of the room, all bright smiles and easy warmth as men reached for his hand and ladies called him over with teasing complaints concerning his tardy arrival, and he drifted amongst them, his sharp memory pulling out tidbits about each with such skill that Nora was in awe. A recent visit to the country. A daughter’s lingering cough. A son’s high marks on his school exams. No one passed by without him asking after some personal detail.
“You saved me from utter disaster, Eden,” one gentleman declared whilst accepting a fresh drink from a servant. “If I had remained with Prescott’s people another six months, I’d have lost half my holdings by now.”
Papa waved the compliment aside with easy modesty. “You exaggerate, Noble.”
“I do not,” insisted Mr. Noble with a laugh. “Believe you me, I know to whom we owe our prosperity.”
Nora straightened, her corset loosening as she released a long breath. She watched Papa drift easily from card table to card table, pausing here for a joke and there for a word of advice between shuffles and wagers. She heard the laughter that followed him. Even the servants responded more quickly when Papa addressed them, brightening beneath the easy charm.
This man remembered names and troubles and fortunes, made nervous investors laugh and proud gentlemen feel cleverer than they were. And as Nora stood there with sapphires gleaming at her wrist and the room warming around him like a newly stirred hearth, she let the last ragged edges of that ugliness with Lionel smooth away.
“Is something the matter?” Mr. Hatcher whispered, glancing up from his cards.