me?” Charles asked impatiently.
“I’m getting to that.” His father baited the hook, then dangled it before him. “There is growing support for someone like you in the next gubernatorial election. Someone with a spotless reputation. Someone who is willing to roll up his sleeves and take action, who is known as a champion of justice, and who doesn’t knowthe meaning of the word
graft
. In short, those in power are not opposed to considering you.”
“Me?” Charles asked, incredulous. “For governor?”
“Yes. Morality swings like a pendulum, Charles, but a campaign doesn’t happen overnight. It takes years of work, of meeting the right people, getting the right press, and laying the groundwork. It is something I want you to consider. It involves Miss Appleton, since any stain on your reputation would weaken your chances and jeopardize everything.”
“Bah!” Charles threw up his hands in outrage. “I should have known you were getting to this. I have no desire to become a political figure. My work as the people’s attorney is all I ever wanted. Winifred’s apprenticeship in my office could hardly stop my career.”
“Not yet,” his father said shrewdly. “But there is bound to be speculation. Marriage would help you tremendously, I would think, particularly to someone like Elizabeth Billings. Her good name and reputation could only help your political career.”
Charles gazed at his father in disbelief. “Are you suggesting that I marry Elizabeth simply to gain advancement?”
“No, of course not.” His father looked deeply offended. “I am simply stating the obvious. Marriage, in your case, involves more than just personal satisfaction. And Elizabeth Billings would be a good political wife. It is something for you to consider, Charles. That’s all.”
Charles rose from his seat.
“Are you going?” his father asked. “We have not had dessert yet. I believe your mother ordered your favorite, apple pie.”
“I haven’t much appetite,” Charles said. “GiveElizabeth my best. As the state’s attorney, I have work to do.”
He strode out the door, missing his father’s scowl.
“E XCUSE ME , Miss Appleton.”
Winifred glanced up from her work to see Edgar Whitcomb standing at her desk. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he looked extremely uncomfortable. She waited patiently for him to speak.
“I could not help but admire your remarks during our meeting the other day,” he said, squeezing out each word as if it pained him. “And I noticed the work you did on the Black complaint, as well as the research you provided Mr. Howe. You seem to have an uncommon grasp of the law.”
“Thank you,” Winifred said uncertainly.
“Not that I think women are not capable,” he continued quickly, patting his shiny vest. “It is just that I agree with the Court’s ruling, that women were destined by nature to bear children and maintain hearth and home.”
“I see,” she said politely, trying not to show her impatience.
“But still …” The elderly man tugged on his curled mustache, as if trying to figure out just how to say what was on his mind. “That is, one can make exceptions—”
“Mr. Whitcomb, did you need my help with something?” She sweetly cut through his stalling.
At her offer, the man quickly thrust a large envelope toward her. “Would you be so kind as to look through that case and see if there is a legal angle that comes to you? Nothing too difficult, of course. Would do it myself, except my caseload is overwhelming this week.”
“Of course,” she replied, placing the envelope on top of the papers she had piled on her desk.
The man sagged with relief. Putting on his polished hat, he was about to leave when he turned and gave her a conspiratorial wink. “You will not tell anyone about this, will you?”
“No,” she said, a smile curving her lips, “it will be our secret.”
“Good. Very good. Not that there is any reason you should not
“I’m getting to that.” His father baited the hook, then dangled it before him. “There is growing support for someone like you in the next gubernatorial election. Someone with a spotless reputation. Someone who is willing to roll up his sleeves and take action, who is known as a champion of justice, and who doesn’t knowthe meaning of the word
graft
. In short, those in power are not opposed to considering you.”
“Me?” Charles asked, incredulous. “For governor?”
“Yes. Morality swings like a pendulum, Charles, but a campaign doesn’t happen overnight. It takes years of work, of meeting the right people, getting the right press, and laying the groundwork. It is something I want you to consider. It involves Miss Appleton, since any stain on your reputation would weaken your chances and jeopardize everything.”
“Bah!” Charles threw up his hands in outrage. “I should have known you were getting to this. I have no desire to become a political figure. My work as the people’s attorney is all I ever wanted. Winifred’s apprenticeship in my office could hardly stop my career.”
“Not yet,” his father said shrewdly. “But there is bound to be speculation. Marriage would help you tremendously, I would think, particularly to someone like Elizabeth Billings. Her good name and reputation could only help your political career.”
Charles gazed at his father in disbelief. “Are you suggesting that I marry Elizabeth simply to gain advancement?”
“No, of course not.” His father looked deeply offended. “I am simply stating the obvious. Marriage, in your case, involves more than just personal satisfaction. And Elizabeth Billings would be a good political wife. It is something for you to consider, Charles. That’s all.”
Charles rose from his seat.
“Are you going?” his father asked. “We have not had dessert yet. I believe your mother ordered your favorite, apple pie.”
“I haven’t much appetite,” Charles said. “GiveElizabeth my best. As the state’s attorney, I have work to do.”
He strode out the door, missing his father’s scowl.
“E XCUSE ME , Miss Appleton.”
Winifred glanced up from her work to see Edgar Whitcomb standing at her desk. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he looked extremely uncomfortable. She waited patiently for him to speak.
“I could not help but admire your remarks during our meeting the other day,” he said, squeezing out each word as if it pained him. “And I noticed the work you did on the Black complaint, as well as the research you provided Mr. Howe. You seem to have an uncommon grasp of the law.”
“Thank you,” Winifred said uncertainly.
“Not that I think women are not capable,” he continued quickly, patting his shiny vest. “It is just that I agree with the Court’s ruling, that women were destined by nature to bear children and maintain hearth and home.”
“I see,” she said politely, trying not to show her impatience.
“But still …” The elderly man tugged on his curled mustache, as if trying to figure out just how to say what was on his mind. “That is, one can make exceptions—”
“Mr. Whitcomb, did you need my help with something?” She sweetly cut through his stalling.
At her offer, the man quickly thrust a large envelope toward her. “Would you be so kind as to look through that case and see if there is a legal angle that comes to you? Nothing too difficult, of course. Would do it myself, except my caseload is overwhelming this week.”
“Of course,” she replied, placing the envelope on top of the papers she had piled on her desk.
The man sagged with relief. Putting on his polished hat, he was about to leave when he turned and gave her a conspiratorial wink. “You will not tell anyone about this, will you?”
“No,” she said, a smile curving her lips, “it will be our secret.”
“Good. Very good. Not that there is any reason you should not
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