him.
He ran the tip of his index finger back and forth over the edge of his chin. “I’m sure she will, my young friend, but now, please sit down and relax. You must take time to prepare for the moment when you must stand up and be counted the only man in her eyes.”
His overly earnest guest plopped himself back down in his chair. “But she can be so proud, Doctor, and ambitious. It makes me angry sometimes.”
Caden looked over to the closed door leading back to the stage. “In these challenging times, a young woman’s mind becomes filled with too many excitements, too many distractions. They are divine creatures, yes, filled with infinite emotional strength and compassionate resolve, but sadly . . .”
He turned and faced the embarrassingly sincere young man. “Their critical faculties are wanting.” Caden clenched his hands. “They must be guided by our intelligence and reason to make those decisions that are truly in their best interests, and ultimately . . .” He opened his hands as if he were offering the young man a gift. “Those of all mankind.”
The forlorn suitor’s interest appeared to be waning as he seemed more interested in heaping his plate up with food then taking up the thread of their discussion. So much the better for all concerned. Let this young fool wallow in the pit of his animal instinct and leave the desire for the advancement of humanity to those best suited to serve it. “Please, Tim, let me pour you another.”
The young man shook his head. “She . . . she speaks constantly of Bret too. Even when she berates the man there is more heartbreak than hatred in her voice,” he said between mouthfuls of smoked sea trout. “But why does she embarrass herself like that? Everyone knows that the bastard broke off their engagement for no apparent reason and left for Europe the very next day! Spent two years whoring and wasting his family money, and now he returns with promises of oil riches under the dirt in Beaumont?”
Caden poured himself a small cognac and leaned back in his chair staring intently at the earnest young man.
“That is why I really wanted to talk to you, Doctor. Gabrielle has become more silent and melancholy whenever we speak. Tomorrow night, Bret is throwing a grand party. She has been invited and almost certainly, she will be there, allowing him every opportunity to—”
He gobbled down his food then gulped at his drink. “Ingratiate himself back into her good graces. Like yourself, he has a way of speaking to women that they find . . .” He lowered his gaze and voice. “So appealing.”
Caden took a small sip of his cognac and glanced away to conceal his brief grin. He placed the glass back down on the table. “Lift your chin up, Tim, and unburden yourself. First, tell me more about our charming Miss Caldwell. Then, all that you know of this ne’er-do-well Bret McGowan. And please, trust that you can tell me everything.”
CHAPTER 10
Friday, August 31
Caden quickened his steps as he approached the corner of 16th Street and Broadway. On the other side of 16th, the cedar shingle-covered garret of the magnificent Caldwell manor rose above the roofs of the neighboring homes. The pastel rose-colored exterior of the wood gave the structure a fairytale-like appearance of a castle where a king would seek out his future queen.
Arley had explained his hasty exit during their brief telephone conversation and apologized. As a way of making amends, Arley suggested that his trusted friend pay a social call on Gabrielle when he, her busy father, was attending the next seawall meeting.
Caden dusted off the sleeves of his jacket and stepped out onto Broadway. So this Bret McGowan was to blame again. I must resolve this troublesome situation once and for all.
Strolling across the street, he passed by one of the old nuns from St. Mary’s Orphanage. The corpulent woman waddled on her broad hips and held a blanket-wrapped infant in her arms. She led a litter of nine orphaned guttersnipes, trailing behind like ducklings following their mother.
Caden removed his freshly washed handkerchief from his breast pocket and covered his nose. Looking down into each unwanted, ignorant, and fearful face, he saw the living vindication of everything he knew to be more truthful with each passing day: The coming age would grant no quarter, no respite, and no mercy.
There was no joy in his certainty, only the sorrow of knowledge and the