Dania Eison was up to something. Matt could feel it deep in his bones. Instinct, his editor had once told him. The scent of a story.
There was certainly a story here. Matt glanced around the lobby of the Edgemont Hotel. A comfortable place with its hand-crocheted doilies, well-worn rugs, and comfortable chairs, but not exactly what he’d had in mind for a textile heiress. He’d been more than a little surprised when Miss Eison had given him the address to the clean but reasonably priced hotel; even more so when the owner, a Mr. Cooper, had greeted Dania like an old family friend.
But then Dania Eison hadn’t been quite what Matt had expected. There was nothing in her manner to suggest her elevated social status, except for her well-made traveling suit that was the perfect shade of blue to match her luminous eyes. She was lovely, a beauty some might say, yet her manner seemed down-to-earth, as if she were unaware of her striking appearance. And she couldn’t have been more straightforward when she’d refused his escort.
So why had she changed her mind?
Footsteps on the stairs drew his attention. Dressed in a snowy white shirt, a dark blue serge skirt, and a no-nonsense straw hat, Dania could have passed for any one of the many young women hurrying around the city streets to their jobs. For some odd reason, the thought made Matt smile. “Miss Eison?”
She turned and gave him a wide smile. “Mr. Langley. I’m sorry if I’ve kept you waiting.”
“No apologies are necessary. It gave me time to make a few notes on my next article.” Notes about her, though in all honesty, most were from his meeting with Senator Evers. Today, he would write down his own observations.
Her smile widened, but there was a sense of relief in her eyes. “Good. I hate to think of me wasting your time simply because I couldn’t wake up this morning. I must be more tired than I thought.”
Matt nodded. “Travel has a way of wearing a person out.”
She stopped and gave him a worried look. “Do you find train travel exhausting?”
What an odd question! “No, I find it quite relaxing myself. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I have a full schedule today, and I wonder if it might be too taxing for you.”
His brow furrowed in confusion. “Too taxing?”
“Well, you just said travel wears you out, and I wouldn’t want you to get all tuckered out chasing me around Atlanta.”
“I …” He pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. “You certainly speak your mind.”
Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. “One of my worst faults. Mama says it’s most unladylike.”
“I don’t know.” He thought for a second. “I think it’s most refreshing.”
Her eyes met his, and his breath caught in his throat. “That’s a very modern way of thinking.”
Matt forced himself to breathe. “How else are we going to know what the fairer sex is thinking unless you tell us?”
She chuckled softly. “You do have a point.”
Matt wasn’t quite sure why, but the thought he could make her smile, as if he were the only man in the world who had that particular talent, gave him a sense of satisfaction. “So, Miss Eison, what is on the agenda for today?”
“I’d hoped to do a bit of shopping.” Opening the clasp of her reticule, she retrieved a folded piece of paper. “There’s a fabric shop near Little Five Points that has large quantities of material for very good prices.” She handed him the paper. “I’m not quite sure how to say the last name.”
“Mr. Shonkwiler.” The man who’d made Matt’s first shirt when he’d come to Atlanta. Though his wares were good, they were beneath the quality most fashionable young ladies would consider. “I’m sure there are other merchants who would be more than happy to accommodate you.”
“Is something wrong with Mr. Shonkwiler’s material? He came highly recommended.”
“No, he’s very good but …,” Matt spurted.
Dania didn’t give him an opportunity to finish. “His shop is open this morning, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but …” He was confused. Why would someone of Dania’s social status seek out a second-rate vendor? Was the Eison mill not as profitable as Evers thought? Or was it that Dania wasn’t aware where the fashionable ladies shopped? “If you’re having a new wardrobe made, you might find the shops along Peachtree more to your taste.”
“A new wardrobe?” A smile played along her lips. “No, I wanted to go to him because his establishment is located next to the boot maker.”
The woman was talking in riddles. “And you want a new pair of boots?”
“No. I mean, yes.” She grimaced. “I’m not making any sense, am I?”
He shook his head. “Not really. Maybe if you tell me what you’re hoping to achieve with your visit.”
She bit her lip as if she were considering the idea. “I’d hoped it would remain a secret.”
Gracious! Withholding a secret from him was like waving a red flag in front of an angry bull! Surely he could get her to share it. Maybe he could rattle it out of her. Matt stepped closer until the folds of her skirts touched his pant legs. “I promise not to tell.”
“I have my reasons, Mr. Langley.” Her gentle response belied the merriment in her eyes. “If you feel you can’t escort me to Mr. Shonkwiler’s, then I can find my own way there.”
The woman had piqued his interest. There was no walking away from this assignment now. She might not have told him her secret yet, but she would. He bowed slightly at the waist. “I am at your disposal, Miss Eison.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t say anything more, simply tugged on her worn leather gloves and started for the front entrance. Matt followed in her wake, the blue material of her skirts swaying in a lovely rhythm with each step.
Dania didn’t speak again until they were settled in a hired carriage. “It’s really no big secret, why I need to go to Mr. Shonkwiler’s. It’s just I don’t want it to get back to the folks at home.”
Well, that sounded interesting. Maybe Miss Eison was more like the heiresses he knew than he’d first thought. He leaned back into his seat. “Well, if the fabric isn’t for you, maybe it’s for your younger siblings?”
Dania glanced at him. “Do you promise not to tell anyone?”
“I’m a reporter, Miss Eison. It’s my job to tell people’s secrets.”
“All right then.” She turned to look out the window.
Oh, for Pete’s sake, her secret couldn’t be that newsworthy. “Fine, your secret is safe with me. But I do ask one thing in return.”
There was a wariness in her eyes when she turned to look at him. “What would that be?”
“Please.” He leaned toward her. “Call me Matt.”
Her lips trembled into a slight smile that sent his pulse racing. “Okay, Matt. As long as you call me Dania.”
“Dania.” The name still struck him as unusual, yet he liked the way it came off his lips. “So? What’s your secret?”
“Are you always this nosy?”
He shrugged. “It’s a vice of the trade.”
“A very annoying vice,” she huffed, fiddling with the reticule in her lap.
“For those with something to hide.” Matt waited for her response. If past experiences were anything to go by, Dania would either clam up or give him a dressing down.
Her laughter surprised him. “You must be terribly good at your job then.”
Something about her response made his heart do a little flip in his chest. Matt shifted away from her slightly. “Only if I can get people to talk.”
“Which, I’m certain, you have no trouble doing.” Color stole into her cheeks making her eyes an even brighter shade of blue. “It’s nothing really. I just noticed that most of the children who work in our mill are in need of clothes. So I thought I’d buy some material and offer it to their mothers. Those without anyone at home who sews, I’ll make clothing for.”
She’d just given him his confirmation. There were children working at the Eisons’ mill, the information Evers wanted, yet her explanation was so unexpected. Most mill owners concerned themselves with their profits, not the basic needs of their young employees. Were the Eisons different? Or were they working some kind of angle he hadn’t uncovered yet? “You’re not doing this out of your company store, are you? Because those families might want food on the dinner table more than clothes.”
“I don’t understand.” Confusion clouded her expression. “What do you mean by a company store?”
He’d have to push a little harder. “Your employees might not be able to manage the bill for both.”
Sudden anger flashed in her eyes. “I’m not charging for the fabric. It’s a bonus, along with the boots I’m having made for them.”
Sweet mercy. Giving away clothes and boots without a thought to her profits. If true, Dania was full of surprises. “That’s a strange philosophy for a business owner.”
“Yes, well.” He felt her relax slightly. “I feel that mill owners have a moral obligation to make sure their workers are fed and cared for. It’s like my papa always used to say—you can’t expect a person to understand the goodness of the Lord when they’re cold or hungry. I think it works in business, too.”
Strange indeed, Matt thought. Had this been her father’s idea, or was Dania doing this behind his back? Did it really matter? It was an incredibly kind thing to do. “Why did you want to keep it a secret?”
She gave a small sigh. “People have their pride, even those without very much. I didn’t want word to get back home that this is anything other than what it is: a benefit of employment. If folks thought it was something else, they might refuse the garments, and that would be bad for the children.”
She’d considered the workers’ feelings. No business owners did that, at least, not the ones Matt was acquainted with. But then he’d known Dania was different from the moment he saw her kick her assailant in the shin. She took care of herself and those around her. Maybe that’s why she’d drifted into his thoughts at odd moments last night. Despite everything Senator Evers had told him about Dania, she was telling him a different story. Not of a self-absorbed heiress, but of a woman who took her responsibilities seriously.
He hadn’t expected to like her, but he did. He liked her very much.
“Matt, are you all right?”
“Just thinking,” he answered, trying to put his jangled thoughts back in some order. “What does your father say about all this?”
“My father?” Her lips trembled slightly.
Matt didn’t know why, but he felt a sudden need to put his arms around her and offer his shoulder to lean on. Reassure her everything would be okay. Instead, he took her gloved hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You want to talk about it?”
“It’s just that …” She sniffled then glanced up at him, her lashes wet with unshed tears. “My father passed away a few months ago. Since then, I’ve been running the mill.”
“You …” The carriage came to a stop before he had a chance to ask the million questions running through his mind. Why had Dania been left in charge? Was there no Eison male relatives to take over the family business? And if she felt such a moral obligation to her workers, why did Dania still employ children?