The Lady of Bolton Hill by Elizabeth Camden Page A

Kate. “Now I’d like to hear how you found yourself in this mess, and what you plan to do to make sure it never happens again.”
    It was a reasonable question, and Clara thought Kate ought to have noticed the serious tone that lay just beneath the surface of Daniel’s calmly worded question.
    “It wasn’t my fault,” Kate proclaimed. “As though I have any control over a riot. Truly, you have more influence over rioters than me.”
    Daniel raised his eyebrows. “And what is your reasoning for that comment?”
    “Well, you’re one of the robber barons everyone is complaining about. If people like you paid their workers better, we wouldn’t have this sort of thing.”
    Daniel fixed Kate with a stare that would have made lesser mortals wither, but with the overconfidence that came with extreme youth, Kate held her ground. “I’d complain, too, if I had to live on the wages the railroad pays. Little better than dirt, so what other recourse do they have?”
    “And here I had been bragging to Clara about what a bright young lady you have grown up to become,” Daniel said. “My apologies, Clara. I was premature in my assessment.”
    Kate straightened, bristled, and her gray-eyed gaze locked with Daniel’s dark glower. The air practically crackled with electricity. Finally, Kate backed down. “Just because you are smart doesn’t mean you are wise , Daniel!” The exasperation in her tone made Clara certain this was a common phrase Kate rolled out when attempting to compete with her older brother’s unquestionable dominance. Kate flounced into the corner of the kitchen and wadded her jacket into a makeshift pillow. “I’m exhausted and am not going to listen to your lectures, Daniel. I’m getting some sleep,” she said as she turned her back to them.

    Darkness had fallen, but the rioters had not dispersed. Bonfires flickered in the park as young hoodlums lit piles of garbage on fire and threw eggs against the sides of buildings. Her father would be out of his mind with worry, but there was nothing Clara could do to assuage his fears. It would be far more dangerous to venture out into the street, where fires set by the rioters were now consuming at least two buildings she could spot from the upper window of the sporting club. Manzetti had been instructed to tell Reverend Endicott about her plans, so surely he knew that Daniel would look out for her. The three of them would be here until morning, and Kate had already fallen asleep, leaning against the corner of the kitchen wall.
    The temperature dropped as the moon rose, and Clara wrapped her arms a little tighter around her body. The moment he noticed Clara’s movement, Daniel shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it around her shoulders. “You should have told me you were chilly.”
    The silk-lined wool coat still carried Daniel’s scent, and Clara sank into the luxurious warmth. She wasn’t so cold that she needed his coat, but the gesture carried a whiff of gallantry that was oddly touching. The weight and quality of the coat’s fabric were a tangible sign of Daniel’s success, and she smiled a little as she turned her head toward him.
    “Is there any truth to what Kate says?”
    Daniel and Clara were sitting on the floor of the darkened kitchen, legs stretched out before them, eating a bowl of cherries. Clara whispered the question so as not to awaken the sleeping Kate.
    “That I’m a robber baron who doesn’t pay my workers a fair wage? Not much.”
    “What part of it is true?”
    Daniel sighed. “Ian Carr and I are both self-made men, and most of every dollar we earn gets plowed directly back into the company to fund our expansion. We don’t live like Vanderbilt or Carnegie. We don’t have gold fixtures in our bathrooms or summer homes in the country. And I don’t have a lot of money to splash around on employees. I pay a fair wage.”
    “You needn’t be so defensive. I’m not attacking you.”
    “It felt like it.” At her pointed