Page 33 of Landing Love

Get it together, O’Donnell.

“Shall we head to the reception?” He held out his arm and was very proud of himself for not sighing audibly with contentment at her light touch.

“Hold on. Let me take Junior back.” Ann reached for her son, who was cooing happily in Mum’s arms. “Thank you for all your help, Mrs. O’Donnell.”

“It was my pleasure,” said Mum as she handed over the baby. “And I hope I get to spend some more time with him at the reception. You young people should go enjoy yourselves.” She looked back and forth between Ann and Bill.

Yes, there were definitely cupids flying around Bill’s head, and Mum could see every one of them.

“Hurry along, now. We’ll see you at the restaurant.” Mum shooed them away with the most self-satisfied grin he’d even seen.

This was going to be an evening to remember, for better or worse. And he could only pray he didn’t muck up the tenuous connection between them. He wanted everything, and he wanted it right then. But to win and keep her trust, he had to hold himself in check, let her set the pace of their courtship. Because that was what this was—good, old-fashioned courtship. For him, she was the one, and he had to do everything in his power to sway her heart.

13

Ann stepped through the door of Delmonico’s with Junior, wondering what she had gotten herself into. Never would she have guessed she’d enter this inner sanctum of the city’s elite. Dinner at Delmonico’s was something that the socialites Mama read about did, and who was she? But with Bill’s arm to steady her, she steeled herself and straightened her back. She was Ann Prince, and tonight she had as much right to be here as Mrs. Astor.

Oh, Mama, I hope you’re watching from heaven!

The Belmonts had rented out the entire restaurant. Low light from hanging chandeliers cast a golden glow on the glittering attendees, and red-velvet drapes cocooned the room in opulent splendor. The rich scents of roasted meat mixed with the heady perfumes of society ladies. Black-suited waiters looked down their noses at one and all. It almost made her want to laugh. That was what people paid for, she supposed—the illusion that no one was good enough and they were all lucky to have even been allowed inside.

Ann wished she could let go of her self-consciousness and take it all in, but Junior was fussing, and her breasts ached with milk. Wonderful. Somehow, she had to find a quiet place to feed him, or the evening was going to be a misery for them both. But here? How was she ever going to work up the nerve to ask? Especially in front of Bill. The mere thought made her want to sink through the floor.

Fortunately, Mrs. O’Donnell rushed toward them moments after they entered. “There’s my favorite baby boy.”

Ann relinquished Junior to her open arms, and his fussing turned into a full-on squall.

“Oh, dear. I bet you’re hungry aren’t you.” Mrs. O’Donnell didn’t miss a thing, did she? She leaned toward Ann. “Do you need to feed him, dear?”

“Yes.” Thank God she didn’t need to explain.

“Leave it to me.” Taking Ann’s wrist, she pulled her away from Bill. “We’ll be back in a few minutes.”

With the stern efficiency of a general, Mrs. O’Donnell bullied a red-faced waiter into opening a private dining room for her to use. It was an awe-inspiring sight. Ann hoped she had half as much spine when she reached Mrs. O’Donnell’s age.

As she sat in a velvet-covered dining chair feeding Junior, worries about Bill crowded her mind. She had said she would pretend for the evening that she was any other woman in the company of a handsome man, but who was she fooling? She had so little to give after all she’d been through. It was only a matter of time before the realities of courting her would make him run away. If only she could make him understand.

But no. She’d given in to her inconvenient attraction and encouraged him when she should have stood her ground for both of their sakes.

“Everything all right in there, dear?” Mrs. O’Donnell asked through the door.

“Yes, everything is fine. Almost done.” Junior burped and looked up at her with dreamy, milk-drunk contentment. “Just another minute or two.”

“Take all the time you need, dear. I’m standing guard.”

Thank heavens. The last thing Ann wanted was for some stranger to walk in on her with her dress down to her waist. She put herself to rights as quickly as possible, letting Junior chew on a cloth napkin.

As soon as she was presentable, she opened the door. “Thank you for standing watch. I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Nonsense. You’re a woman with a head on her shoulders. I like that about you. Now give me this fine young gentleman here, and go sit with Bill.” She took Junior from her arms and shooed her toward the wedding party’s table.

Oh dear. She truly didn’t belong there, but it was too late to back away. Bill beckoned her over, and a moment later, she found herself sandwiched between Bill and his friend Jack.

“Mrs. Prince, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” Jack raised his glass of champagne to her. “How are you finding your new house?”

“I’m enjoying it quite a bit, thank you.” In the few weeks since she moved, she’d unpacked almost all the boxes. It was starting to feel like a real home.

Jack gave her a friendly smile. “Did you enjoy the ceremony?”