Chapter 77

She joined the housekeeper in the dining room and was graciously allowed to place the silverware on the table. As a bachelor, Eli kept a simple table, only two forks and two spoons. Nettie had almost gotten used to that. Once they were married - if they were married - he'd be expected to entertain. The magazines had made that clear. They were going to need a lot more silver, and Diana hadn't been wrong about the china. Blast all this nonsense. Why couldn't the wealthy eat like everyone else, with one fork, one knife and one spoon?
"My condolences, Miss Nettie." Someone had informed the housekeeper of Al's death. "You let Tim or I know if there's anything we can do."
"Thank you." It was nice, Nettie thought, to feel that Eli's employees were on her side for a change. "It will be a simple, private service - just Mr. Eli and I. I can't pretend he was a good man, but he'll have a decent burial."
"As it should be." Mrs. VanCleve looked up at the same time as Nettie saw - or rather sensed - Eli enter the room. "Well, don't you look dapper, Mr. Eli? I've all the courses set out on the sideboard, so you can serve yourselves. Stack the dishes in the dumbwaiter when you're finished, if you would." With a nod that a generation ago would have been a curtsy, the smiling housekeeper left the room.
"You do look very dapper." Nettie had never seen Eli in a dinner jacket before. They'd always dined casually since her arrival. "I hope you don't expect me to dress up for dinner every night after we're married."
"You look lovely no matter what you wear." He leaned down to kiss her cheek, then held her chair. "I do like the earrings. I'm looking forward to buying you more jewelry." He took his seat across from her and served them both from the soup tureen on the table.
"I'm not a paper doll," she said with what she hope was a stern but caring smile. "You needn't keep trying to dress me. I've had some trouble getting that through your sister's head. I'll never be the socialite she is. I like pretty things, but I doubt I'll ever be quite up to snuff in your mother's eyes."
"Neither am I." He set down his spoon and studied her across the table. "I hear you had a visit from Mother today. I hope it wasn't too daunting."
"I think I held my own." Nettie chuckled. "That's another thing you'll have to get used to. I'm normally polite, as I've spent much of my life working in a shop. But I do speak my mind when the occasion arises. I'm not the meek little mouse most people see, you know. Are you still sure you want to marry me?"
"Utterly." He lifted his water glass, as they'd both forgone wine with the first course. "I couldn't live with a mouse. I want a wife who's kind and clever. Someone I can actually talk to who will do more than parrot my own opinions."
"Well then." She lifted her glass as well. "You realize I no longer need safekeeping. You don't have to keep me around to protect me, either."
"Of course." He sighed and shook his head. "Quit trying to talk me out of marriage. If you don't want to be my wife, say so. Otherwise, can we please start making plans? I know you'll want a short period between the funeral and the wedding. How does a month sound?"
"Perfect. I'll have full use of my arm by then, and the Websters will be home. We're still planning to have it here?"
"If that's what you wish." He resumed eating. "I was thinking New York for a honeymoon. Niagara Falls, and a few days in the city."
"Anywhere is fine with me. The furthest I've ever been is to Indianapolis." She didn't think they'd spend much time sightseeing, regardless of where they went.
"Will you wear a formal dress or something simpler? I'll admit that I'd love to see you in a white gown and veil."
They managed to discuss wedding plans through the first two courses, and Nettie spent the last two outlining her idea for a wives' auxiliary for the fire department. He applauded the plan and promised to take it to the next meeting of the fire board, the six men who organized and supervised the volunteers, of which Eli was, of course, a member.
They took their coffee into the parlor. It was a cool enough evening - even in September - that Eli lit a small fire in the marble hearth and pulled a two-person settee up in front of it. Nettie kicked off her Mary Janes and curled up beside him, leaning against his shoulder. He'd taken off his jacket and as much warmth seeped through the fine cotton of his shirt sleeve as from the fire. He smelled of sandalwood soap and a slightly spicy shaving lotion. He'd shaved for dinner, since there was no evidence of the razor stubble he usually showed by the end of the day. It made her smile, to know he'd gone to such trouble, jut for her.
"I plan to work until the Websters can find a replacement for me." She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. "I suppose your mother will be horrified."
"If they haven't found someone before the wedding. And stop worrying about my mother. She does mean well in her own way, but it's not the right way for me. I stopped paying any attention to her opinion years ago. I love the woman, but my life and hers aren't at all the same."
"Thank God for that. But I suppose we should still invite them to the wedding."
"Probably. Even my brother Alex, who helped spread the rumors about us. He's had it in for me ever since he figured out that my father wanted to hand the company over to his oldest son. I've relinquished all my interests, but Alex resents being second choice."
"None of us have the luxury of choosing our relatives." She sighed. "At least yours never set fire to things."
He grunted. "No, but if any of them are rude to you at the wedding, I reserve the right to punch them in the face."
Nettie snorted. "Only if it's not your mother."