The Seduction Of Ellen. Nan Ryan

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giving the devil her due, when finally the rail car had passed Alexandra’s discriminating inspection, it was a rolling wonder.

      Inside, intricately carved boiseries exhibited the craftsmen’s infinite capacity for detail. A composite observation-sleeping car, the Lucky Landseer boasted a marble bathtub with gleaming gold fixtures. In the spacious sitting room, beneath a vaulted ceiling heavily embellished with Gothic fretwork, sat a handsome, oversize sofa and two matching easy chairs. The pale blue velvet furniture rested upon a thick, plush Aubusson carpet of blue and beige.

      At the rear of the handsome room, a door opened onto an observation deck. A waist-high railing of beautifully carved iron lace bordered the small open-air deck. A narrow steel ladder went from the floor of the deck to the car’s top.

      There was no furniture of any kind on the observation deck, although there was plenty of space. Alexandra saw no need for chairs or a settee. She had absolutely no interest in sitting out in the open, and it was always her own comfort that concerned her, no one else’s.

      If Ellen or any invited guests wished to spend time on the observation deck, they simply would have to stand.

      On the other side of the living room, in the car’s opulent bedroom, all the windows were draped with ice-blue velvet curtains. Alexandra never allowed those heavy drapes to be opened. She stated unequivocally that when she was inside her boudoir, she did not want some unwashed peasant along the tracks looking in at her.

      The bedroom was capacious and comfortable and decorated with heavy carved furniture, gold-framed mirrors, marble statuary and handsome globed lamps and sconces. Beautiful artwork graced the wood-paneled walls.

      Alexandra thought the room ideal.

      Ellen did not.

      It would have been, had it been hers alone. But the room was Alexandra’s and Ellen was forced to share with her aunt. Two specially built beds, covered in pale blue velvet spreads, were separated by only a small night table. The lack of privacy made Ellen dislike traveling in the splendid car.

      But, tomorrow she would be trapped inside the velvet prison for several long days and nights as the train rolled westward.

      Ellen exhaled loudly. Tonight, the eleventh of May, 1899, was the last night she’d spend in the quiet serenity of her own bedroom for many weeks.

      Slipping her nightgown over her head, Ellen sank down onto the edge of the bed. It was well past midnight, but she wasn’t sleepy. Her anxiety was rising steadily as departure time neared. The last thing on earth she wanted to do was to go out West on this outlandish, expensive lark.

      It was more than just the senseless waste of money that bothered her.

      She had a nagging premonition that once the journey westward was under way, nothing in her life would ever be quite the same again. She felt as though she would be caught up in some clandestine web of danger from which she could never escape. She had the frightening feeling that she might never return to the safety of this Park Avenue town house.

      And, that even if she did, she would not be the same person she was when she left.

      Ellen shook her head and silently scolded herself. She was being unforgivably silly. Nothing was going to happen to her. Nothing more than a long, boring trip across the country and a senseless trek to some ordinary water hole where Alexandra would learn, too late, that there was no such thing as a fountain of youth.

      Then, at last, back home to her sheltered, well-ordered existence.

      Ellen sighed, took the pins from her hair and let it spill down around her shoulders. Without aid of a mirror, she swiftly plaited it into a thick braid. She yawned, blew out the lamp and got into bed.

      There was nothing to worry about, she assured herself. She had cleverly managed to avoid Mister Corey since the morning he had met her at Grand Central Station. Four pleasant days without seeing him.

      And in that time the memory of his burning kiss had faded until she could hardly remember what it had felt like.

      Out of sight, out of mind was actually true. And she would keep him out of sight on the long train trip to Grand Junction, Colorado. All she had to do was to constantly stay inside the close confines of the Lucky Landseer.

      It wouldn’t be easy, but she could do it.

      She would do it.

      She had to do it.

      Ellen’s resolve strengthened as Mister Corey’s arrogant words came back to her, “I don’t think, Ellen, that you’ve had nearly enough of me.”

      Nine

      At the last minute, Alexandra had decided to not take any servants along on the train trip. It was customary, when she traveled in the Lucky Landseer to have at least the chef and her personal maid, Esther, accompany her. She decided against it for this journey and, as usual, her decision was a selfish one.

      She worried that if her servants were on board, the group with which she was traveling might assume that they, too, could avail themselves of their services. The outsiders might mistakenly take it for granted that her chef would cook for them and that her maid would tend their needs.

      That would be the day!

      Now as she excitedly rushed around on the morning of departure, Alexandra congratulated herself on electing to leave the servants at home. She was aware that their absence would not make the trip any easier. But she could do it. She would take her meals in the dining car, just like any common passenger. And, after all, she had Ellen.

      “It’s them!” Alexandra cried out as a knock came at the mansion’s massive front door. Her uniformed butler, the solemn, long-suffering Dunwoody, immediately appeared. Alexandra put up a hand and stopped him. “No, Ellen will answer the door. You should be seeing to the luggage.” Turning to Ellen, she said, “Don’t just stand there, let them in! What in God’s name are you waiting for?”

      Ellen couldn’t tell her aunt that she was waiting for the pounding of her heart to slow its beat. Ellen was sure that when she opened the door, Mister Corey would be standing there, tall, dark and intimidating.

      Ellen squared her slender shoulders, lifted the skirts of her cotton summer dress and proceeded across the black-and-white marble tiles of the spacious foyer.

      She opened the door and immediately smiled.

      She was greeted by Ricky O’Mara who said cheerfully, “Good morning to you, Ellen. Are you and your aunt ready to leave?”

      “We most certainly are,” came Alexandra’s distinctive voice from behind Ellen. “Now get in here and get this luggage loaded! Where’s Mister Corey? You’ll need his help to—”

      “No, Miss Landseer,” said Ricky, coming inside. “I can take care of the luggage.” Alexandra made a face, went to the door and looked out. Ricky quickly explained, “Mister Corey and the others will meet us at Grand Central Station.”

      “Oh,” said Alexandra, mollified. “Good. Yes, that’s fine.”

      Ellen wanted to echo her aunt. She felt she had been temporally reprieved and was grateful. With

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