Page 109 of The Dravenhearst Brides
She hadn’t missed it. There hadn’t been one.
“Oh, Isadora,” Ruth called, swooping in from Margot’s left. “Kindly remove the lemon from your mouth—that sourpuss smile favors no one. It’s hard to believe, but bourbon makers, too, have wives at home and hungry mouths to feed. That’s why we simplymusttalk about the economic repercussions of this blasted temperance movement.” She steered the woman away, but not before Isadora reached out for one final piece of gossip.
“Hungry mouths?” Her eyebrows raised even higher.
“Yes,” Merrick confirmed, a downright dastardly grin on his face. “We’re expecting our first child in late spring.”
“And we’re clearly not above milking it for political leverage,” Margot murmured in his ear, teasing.
“Come, Isadora,” Ruth said, her voice fading as the pair departed. “Now, where is that husband of yours? We’ve business to discuss—the business of bourbon!”
“She’ll have my job done for me by the end of the night,” Merrick observed.
“Wouldn’t put it past her.” Margot sucked down a large pull of her drink and came up empty. Her eyes met those of a spindly man across the room, a man who’d clearly been watching her.
He wore a three-piece suit and a fedora.
“Another round?” Merrick asked.
She reached for his arm. “Merrick.” She inclined her head toward Toni, who was chatting up sourpuss Isadora’s legislator husband, looking all too comfortable amongst the society crowd. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Merrick sighed. “I already saw him. He’s been making the rounds, same as us.”
“Why is hehere?”
“He doesn’t want Prohibition repealed—the mob makes a hell of a lot more money when hooch is illegal. Organized crime has backed the drys from the start, been filling their coffers every step of the way.”
“That’s horrific.”
“That’s politics.”
Disquieted, Margot kept Toni in her periphery as Merrick guided her across the room to the bar.
“Looking for refills?” Alastair Pendry’s booming voice startled Margot. He placed a pair of drinks on the counter in front of them.
“Alastair.” Merrick’s scowlreappeared.
“Dravenhearst.” Alastair tipped his drink to toast. “To your good health.”
Merrick begrudgingly tapped his glass, then raised it to his lips. “I’d hoped you wouldn’t be important enough to garner an invitation tonight.”
Alastair tossed back his head and laughed. “I’ve grown my farm into one of the top agricultural exporters in the state, and you don’t think I warrant an invitation?”
“You could double your profits if Prohibition is repealed,” Merrick replied, his tone light. “You’ve the highest quality grain in the state. You’ve already taken my order for mash. Others will follow.”
Alastair tilted his head. “I make plenty of scratch, Merrick. I don’t need a bourbon boom to pad my pockets.”
“We’re in a depression, the likes of which hasn’t been seen before. The economy of the state at large—”
“Don’t waste your breath on me, boy,” Alastair interrupted, his voice hard. “If I had the power, I’d burn your distillery to the ground.”
“That’s why I didn’t sell it to you.” Merrick narrowed his eyes. “Five years ago, when you made an insulting offer to a desperate man.”
“No, you had too much foolish pride for that. It’s the Dravenhearst trademark, that ego of yours. Your father had it too.”
Merrick shook his head, frustrated. “I’m done feuding with you, Alastair. No matter what you see when you look at me, I’mnotmy father. I have people depending on me now, my own family. If you’d open your eyes and look beyond my last name, maybe you’d see that.”
With that, he drained his drink, berries and all. Out of the corner of her eye, Margot clocked Ruth beelining across the room toward them. For Alastair.
