He blinked. Just once, which wouldn’t have been memorable coming from any other person on earth. But for Jack Mulligan, who never flinched or backed down or reacted in any manner that he hadn’t carefully planned, he might as well have fainted in a fit of the vapors.
Goddamn it. Would she really do that?
“Yes, I really would,” she said, somehow able to read his mind.
“With what money? Your father certainly won’t approve.”
“I don’t need his money. I have money of my own.”
Shit. Of course. He’d been an idiot to assume her dependent on her father. Girls like her were rolling in money, dripping in dresses and jewels as soon as they left the cradle.
He accepted defeat. He couldn’t counter that—
Oh, wait. Yes, he could.
“And what would your father think about your activities here downtown?”
She visibly bristled, her shoulders tight, brows lowered in anger. “Good God. You are a worm, Mulligan. No, you are lower than a worm. You are the scum floating atop a Mulberry Street puddle.”
He chuckled. “I will give you credit for creativity, Miss Greene. I don’t think I’ve ever been called puddle scum before.”
“I wish I could revel in the achievement. Unfortunately, I’m too busy cursing you inside my head.”
“And what curses would those be? I’m curious how an uptown princess curses out a man like me.”
She drew closer, unafraid, her hands clenched into tight fists. “I won’t dignify that taunt with a response. Only know they are very creative, entirely lewd and ridiculously offensive.”
Whether it was her bold attitude or the word lewd, lust began to thicken in his blood, warming him everywhere. Christ, she was brave. Grown men wouldn’t face him down like this, insulting him. No woman had certainly ever tried before. He liked it, though, at least from Justine. She was like Joan of Arc or Boudica squaring off in battle, and he contemplated all that passion and determination locked inside her. The man who found a way to enjoy it, whether in or out of the bedroom, would reap a hell of a reward.
As he let his mind ruminate on some of the more interesting reward possibilities, she started for the door. “Fine, Mulligan. You have your promise.”
He couldn’t help but grin as he watched her move across the floor. “I thought you might say that.”
“Enjoy it, then, because that’s the last one you’ll ever get out of me. I know better than to bargain with the devil twice.” She stepped into the corridor, slamming the door shut behind her.
“What is troubling you, my dear?” Granny asked Justine quietly at dinner. Everyone else was talking around them, leaving a rare moment for private conversation. “You seem distracted tonight.”
Was it that obvious? “Merely a long day.”
With their parents in Europe, the Greene sisters had taken to dining with their grandmother most every night. Tonight, though, Justine was not exactly up to making polite conversation, not after her meeting with Mulligan. The idea of owing him an undetermined favor at some point in the future turned her stomach.
Granny nudged Justine with her elbow. “A bold-faced lie if I’ve ever heard one. Something has upset you.”
“Why are men so awful?”
She’d blurted the question without thinking, and Granny’s eyes grew round like saucers. Justine couldn’t blame Granny for the reaction. The two of them weren’t particularly close—Florence was Granny’s favorite, after all—and they’d never had a single conversation about relationships or marriage. In fact, Justine couldn’t remember ever going to their grandmother for advice. Perhaps she should remedy that. Granny was wise and not as conventional as Mama.
Granny’s mouth hitched, her eyes twinkling with mirth. “My dear, you might as well ask why the sky is blue. Men are the way they are because we’ve allowed them to run roughshod over us for centuries. But your generation is changing that, I believe. It takes time for attitudes to shift.” She leaned in and whispered, “And you’ll come to learn they are good for some things.”
I am fond of screwing.
Justine could feel her skin warming and tingling. Mulligan was potent. A heady presence that overwhelmed any room he occupied. He was also a criminal. She could not under any circumstances forget that, no matter his charm and wit.
“Is there a man in your life?” Granny asked under her breath. “You may tell me. I won’t share with anyone.”
“No,” she said. “Which is fine. I do not need one.”
“You might change your mind for the right man. You’re more practical and sentimental than your sisters. You’ll want a family, of course.”
Perhaps once she had. But the last few years had shown her the suffering, the helplessness that children endured in this world. “Marriage doesn’t mean children.” At least, it shouldn’t.
“I suppose. But how will our daughters change the world if there are no more daughters?”
Justine thought about that as she chewed. Mr. Gorcey’s face flashed in her mind as he lied about fathering any children. Utterly infuriating. Sadly, he was not unique. Countless men walked away from their promises and responsibilities with little thought, leaving women and children to suffer. It sickened her. “Why are sons not taught to change things? Why must the burdens and problems of this world constantly fall on the shoulders of women?”
The wrinkles in Granny’s skin deepened as she pursed her lips. “You know, I’ve never considered it that way. But you’re right.”
“Exactly.”
“I suppose it’s for the best. God knows your father isn’t in any hurry to see you paired off, not after what he went through with your two sisters. I think he’s hoping you’ll live here forever, unwed and pure.”
Pure, ha.
Her virginity aside, Justine couldn’t imagine leaving her family and this house. She loved this place, the only home she’d ever known. Yet things were changing. Mamie lived with Frank a little farther south on Fifth Avenue. Florence would soon move to her casino downtown. Each of her sisters was finding her path. What was Justine’s future? She wanted to help people, but what did that mean? More charity work? “Well, I’m not in any hurry, either.”
Dinner broke up and everyone started for the salon. Justine was considering escaping to her bedroom when her oldest sister dragged her into an empty sitting room. “I want to talk to you,” Mamie said, her mouth set in a determined line that Justine was well familiar with.
“What about?”
“Today.”
“And?”
“You were very late, dragging in here looking like someone kicked your dog.”
“That’s a terrible comparison.”
“Justine, focus. What happened?”
Mamie was the only one in the family who knew about Justine’s efforts to locate the wife deserters. “I found Mr. Gorcey, the husband I’ve been searching for the past six weeks.”
“That is good news. Unless it didn’t go well?”
“No, it did. He’s agreed to pay Mrs. Gorcey a monthly stipend to help her raise the children.”
Mamie’s brows lowered. “Why so glum, then? I should think you’d be elated.”