Storing Up Trouble, стр. 87
As soon as they joined the receiving line, Norman couldn’t help but notice the whispers behind gloved hands, all of which were directed at Beatrix, who didn’t seem concerned she was the object of speculation. She merely began inclining her head at all the whisperers, earning scandalized looks in return, which left her grinning.
“Aunt Gladys was right,” she said, turning her grin on him. “This is going to be a delightful evening.”
Moving through the grand hall and rotunda, Beatrix peppered him with questions about the hotel, which he tried to answer to the best of his abilities, but other than knowing that the hotel they were in was the second Palmer House, the first having burned to the ground during the great Chicago Fire of ’71, Norman didn’t have much more to tell her.
“One would think that since you grew up in Chicago, you’d know more about this place,” Beatrix complained after he admitted he had no idea how many people claimed Palmer House as their permanent residence, something Beatrix had apparently read about in a newspaper.
“Oh, look,” she exclaimed, nodding up ahead as they joined the throng of guests in the receiving line. “There’s the ballroom, although it’s officially called the dining hall, something I’m sure you didn’t know.”
He smiled. “But I’ve now committed that tidbit to memory and will never forget again.”
She returned the smile. “You can pull it out if you’re ever in need of a topic for idle chitchat, although . . .” Her smile dimmed. “You seem to be becoming most adept at idle chitchat, even with you claiming when you first met me that you don’t care for that particular activity.”
He gave her arm a squeeze. “I’ve had a change of heart about that. I’ve discovered that chatting is not the trial I imagined it to be and actually find it to be most enjoyable.”
Beatrix blinked. “Do you really?”
“Indeed,” Norman said before he pulled her forward to greet Mr. Potter Palmer and his wife, Bertha.
Bertha Palmer considered Beatrix very closely as Norman performed the introductions, and then surprised him when she leaned closer to Beatrix and whispered into her ear.
To his relief, Beatrix exchanged smiles with Bertha before she began tugging him toward the ballroom.
“What did Mrs. Palmer say to you?” he asked.
“She wanted to know if we’d met before, and I told her we had, and then told her where.”
Norman slowed to a stop. “Where could you have possibly met Mrs. Palmer?”
“New York, during a performance at the Metropolitan Opera House.” Beatrix pulled him back into motion again, not slowing her pace until she swept through the door leading to the ballroom. Coming to a stop, she glanced around. “I had no idea it would be so lavishly decorated.” She nodded to a nearby table draped in fine linen and set with china. “That’s Mrs. Palmer’s prized French Haviland bone china, which she acquired on one of her European trips.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because all the large plates are engraved with a gilded P in the center. I read about the plates in a series the Chicago Tribune has been running about the Palmers.”
“Interesting, but if we could return to you, Mrs. Palmer, and the opera, under what circumstances were you presented to each other, and—”
Whatever else Norman wanted to ask got lost when a lady suddenly began waving enthusiastically to Beatrix from halfway across the ballroom.
“Izzie!” Beatrix exclaimed before she surged into motion, leaving Norman behind.
A moment later, Beatrix was being hugged by the lady she’d called Izzie before a large gentleman took Izzie’s place, scooping Beatrix into a hug and earning a laugh from her in return.
“Beatrix knows Ian and Isadora MacKenzie?” Stanley asked, stepping directly beside Norman.
“Who?” Norman asked.
“Ian and Isadora MacKenzie,” Stanley repeated. “Ian MacKenzie is an attorney who practices in Pittsburgh, but he’s recently come to Chicago at the request of the union men to help with negotiations that may see the union men abandoning their determination to strike.”
“Ian MacKenzie is a lawyer for union men?”
Stanley nodded. “Father and I are actually meeting with him on Monday, and you’re more than welcome to join us. He used to be an attorney for the steel owners and investors, but he had a change of heart months ago and now only represents the interests of the laborers who work in the Pittsburgh factories. He’s acquiring the reputation of being a man capable of successfully negotiated terms between the two sides. After I learned he was coming to town to speak with the union men, I reached out and invited him to a meeting.” Stanley shook his head. “I’m curious, though, how Beatrix knows them. Ian MacKenzie, from all accounts, is a self-made man, which is why more than a few eyebrows were raised when he married Isadora. She’s an American heiress and a member of the New York Four Hundred. Given that she’s holding Beatrix’s hand, I have to assume they’re some manner of friends.” Stanley frowned. “How do you imagine it came to be that Beatrix is friends with a member of the New York Four Hundred?”
Norman returned the frown. “I have no idea, although—”
“What in the world are you doing here, girl?” a voice boomed through the crowd as a path opened amidst the guests, revealing a society matron, her face mottled with outrage as she, unfortunately, advanced on Beatrix.
Any thought of the New York Four Hundred or why Beatrix seemed to be friends with one of its members disappeared in a flash as Norman strode into motion, determined to intervene on Beatrix’s behalf, no matter if he was going to end up insulting a Chicago matron in the process.
Chapter 32
Beatrix noticed a distinct increase in the number of people whispering around her, but she didn’t pay them any mind, not when she’d been given the unexpected delight of being reunited with her very