Brenda Joyce - [Francesca Cahil 02] Read Online Free Page A

White’s,” Calder Hart added, staring at Connie as if awaiting her reaction to this bit of news. When she said nothing, he shrugged and grinned.
    Francesca stared at him thoughtfully. If he was White’s friend, clearly he was used to this kind of exhibition. “Why does White wish to shock society?”
    He grinned at her. “You shall have to ask him that. It has been a pleasure, ladies. I do hope to have the pleasure again—soon.”
    Francesca found herself rather speechless, but it did not matter, as he bowed his head and disappeared into the crowd too quickly for her to have a chance to respond. Connie didn’t even notice. The man on the trapeze had slipped beneath and through the woman’s legs and now he stood
behind
her, pumping the trapeze. The crowd roared, while the woman on the bar seemed to be in the throes of ecstasy.
    Francesca poked Connie with her elbow—a quite unladylike gesture. “You were rude!” she exclaimed.
    “Was I?” Connie managed. She did not even look at Francesca.
    “There you are!” It was Julia, and Andrew was on her heels. “We are leaving! I have seen quite enough. We are leaving this instant. White should be arrested for this!”
    Francesca had had enough as it was. “That’s fine.” She glanced at Connie.
    “I had better go find Neil,” Connie whispered unsteadily, referring to her husband.
    Before she could leave, Francesca gripped her hand. “Con?” She was thinking about the way Calder Hart had kept staring at her sister. It was making her uneasy now—in retrospect.
    Connie’s breathing was shallow. “I’m fine. I’ll see if Neil wants to stay or leave.”
    Francesca nodded. “All right.”
    Suddenly Connie squeezed her hand and leaned close. “And don’t worry. The fat lady hasn’t sung yet.” She smiled. “Bragg will be back.”
    Francesca thought about Bragg and her heart sank. “Thank you,” she said. But Francesca knew Connie was wrong.
    Half the crowd had decided to leave, and from the murmurs and whispers around her it was clear that White’s departing guests were shocked and scandalized. Some, like Julia, were very angry at being duped into attending such an immoral and lax display.
    The elevators were full. Francesca found herself in one corner, her parents in another. Evan had decided to stay. Julia was very angry with him.
    Francesca wondered if Connie and Neil would remain for the rest of the evening. As angry as she was with Neil for having taken Eliza Burton as his lover, she doubted he would be so disrespectful of Connie now as to spend the rest of the evening with her in the throes of such immoral entertainment. Francesca felt certain Neil would take his wife home.
    As the elevator cage was opened, the crowd surged out. “Francesca?” her father called.
    “I’m fine, Papa,” Francesca said, following the crowd through the exit doors. She couldn’t see her parents but knew they were somewhere on her left.
    Outside, a blast of cold air enveloped her in spite of the fur-lined cape she wore. It hadn’t snowed in days; it was too cold. The city was breaking its own record low temperatures.
    Horses and carriages lined Madison Avenue between 26th and 27th Streets. The broughams and coaches were double-parked, along with a few motorcars. Hansoms cruised the avenue, looking for or carrying fares. Pedestrians swarmed the sidewalk in front of the Garden, but the surrounding blocks were rather deserted, due to the cold. Francesca slipped on a patch of treacherous ice as people pushed past her, looking for either a cab or their coach; she did not see her parents in the crush. “Papa?” She righted herself carefully and gingerly made her way to the curb. The Cahill brougham was just ahead.
    Someone grabbed her arm, hard.
    Francesca whirled, knowing it wasn’t either of her parents. A pair of black eyes met hers from beneath a huge fur-trimmed hood.
    For one instant Francesca stood there, shocked that someone would grab her and unable to