say it.” He rolled his shoulders as if trying to dislodge a heavy weight. “I don’t want Lily to become a prostitute like...like your...mother.”
Jonathon barely contained his rage. “And you think that makes you a good man?”
“It makes me better than our father.”
Jonathon cleared his expression of all emotion. Inside, he burned. He briefly glanced at the small picture on his desk of his mother as a young woman. He knew a moment of pain, and the hollow feeling of remembered sorrow he’d tucked inside a dark corner of his soul.
Amelia Hawkins hadn’t turned to prostitution lightly. She’d held out as long as she could, but had finally admitted defeat and taken a position in Mattie Silks’s brothel. Jonathon had been seven at the time. The infamous madam had only agreed to take him in, as well, with the understanding that the customers must never find out about his existence.
Whenever his mother “entertained” he’d been locked outside, no matter the weather, left to run the streets. Out of necessity, he’d learned to take care of himself. He’d become a master at picking pockets and winning fights.
He would have continued down a similar path the rest of his life had it not been for Laney O’Connor, now Laney Dupree. She’d offered Jonathon a home at Charity House. She’d built the orphanage for kids like him, kids who weren’t really orphans, whose mothers worked in brothels.
Jonathon shuddered, thinking of the things he’d done to survive prior to Laney’s rescue, and the things he’d done after leaving Charity House to make his fortune.
Could God forgive so much sin? A preacher friend of his said yes. Like waves crashing to shore, the Lord’s forgiveness was infinite and never ending. Jonathon had his doubts. The world was rarely fair.
And now, another woman had been lied to and compromised. Left to her own resources, she could very well travel the same path as Jonathon’s mother. Joshua Greene’s despicable legacy would live on into the next generation, and possibly the next. A never ending cycle.
Was it any wonder Jonathon never wanted to marry? Never wanted to bear children?
“I’ll give you the money.”
Saying nothing more, he opened the safe nestled beneath his desk, and pulled out a bundle of neatly stacked bills. The amount was more than enough to purchase a small, comfortable home for Josh’s mistress and her innocent, unborn child.
Once the money was in his brother’s hands, Jonathon rose. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a hotel to run.”
“Of course.”
In silence, he escorted his brother to the exit. “I bid you good-day.”
Josh started to speak.
Jonathon shut the door on his words with a resounding click. For several moments, he stared straight ahead, his gut roiling. In the unnatural stillness, he made a silent promise to himself. No woman would suffer because of his selfish actions.
The cycle of sin that ran in his family ended with him.
* * *
With their walk-through complete, Fanny escorted Mrs. Singletary and her companion back to the main lobby of the hotel. As they entered the skinny hallway leading out of the ballroom, Philomena fell back a step. The move put her directly beside Burke Galloway. Their footsteps slowed to match one another’s, and their voices mingled in hushed tones.
Fanny wondered if the widow noticed the two were so obviously attracted to each other. She looked over at Mrs. Singletary, but the sight of Jonathon’s office distracted her.
He rarely shut his door. The fact that he’d done so today warned Fanny something wasn’t quite right. A terrible foreboding slipped through her.
Mrs. Singletary glanced at the closed door as well, a delicate frown knitting her brow. “It would appear Mr. Hawkins is still occupied with whatever concern called him away.”
“I believe you are correct.” Fanny’s heart beat faster. She fought a sudden urge to go to Jonathon, to make sure he was all right.
But that would be overstepping her bounds. She continued leading Mrs. Singletary and the others down the hallway.
Once they were in the main lobby, Mrs. Singletary dug inside her sizable reticule and pulled out a stack of papers.
She handed them to Fanny. “Since it appears Mr. Hawkins will not be available for our meeting today, I am entrusting you with my final guest list for the ball.”
Fanny scanned the top page, not really expecting any surprises. But when her gaze landed on a particular set of guests, her breath hitched in her throat. Judge and Mrs. Joshua Greene.
Joshua. Greene.
The man wasn’t welcome in the Hotel Dupree. Short of exposing Jonathon’s personal connection to the prominent judge, Fanny could say nothing to Mrs. Singletary.
She coerced air into her lungs, and adopted a breezy, nonchalant tone. “I will deliver your list to Mr. Hawkins as soon as possible. If he has any questions or concerns I’m certain he will contact you at once.”
“That will be fine.” Mrs. Singletary’s gaze narrowed over her companion conversing softly with Mr. Galloway.
The widow sniffed in mild disapproval. Philomena didn’t appear to notice her employer’s reaction. She was entirely too absorbed in whatever Burke had pointed out to her in the lobby.
“Mr. Galloway, do come here.” The widow spoke in a fast, impatient tone. “And you, as well, Philomena.”
The two walked over as a single unit and faced Mrs. Singletary shoulder to shoulder.
Philomena spoke for them both. “Yes, Mrs. Singletary?”
The widow’s gaze bounced between the two, a look of vexation in her eyes. “Mr. Galloway, would you please see that my carriage and driver are waiting for me out front?”
He gave her a pleasant smile. “I would be delighted.”
“Yes, yes, off you go.” She sent him away with a distracted flick of her wrist.
Philomena gazed after him with a wistful expression.
Mrs. Singletary studied the young woman closely, then pressed her lips into a tight, determined line. Fanny feared the widow still planned to push a match between Jonathon and Philomena.
“Hopeless,” Fanny muttered under her breath.
“Did you say something, my dear?”
“No, Mrs. Singletary.” Fanny lifted her chin. “Is there anything else I can do for you today?”
“Not a thing. Your commitment to detail is much appreciated, Miss Mitchell. I predict this year’s ball will be spoken about long after the evening comes to a close.”
“That is the plan.”
“Yes, yes.” The widow patted her hand. “I
