Gentleman's Trade by Holly Newman

emotions. She envied Louisa her fairytale courtship.
    A deprecating smile hovered on her lips as she looked down into the courtyard. Adeline was there, gathering spring flowers as she seemed to do every day. Her favorite pastime was pressing flowers and afterward creating intricate floral designs under glass. Vanessa’s smile warmed, some of the tension leaving her body as she watched her industrious sister. Once again the giant tomes in her father’s study would become repositories for fragile blooms nestled between pieces of blotting paper. Father had never come to understand Adeline’s hobby, but he had become resigned to the use of his library. Now if he took down a heavy book from a shelf to show some business associate and a pressed flower fell out, he would casually replace it among the pages and proceed.
    Adeline’s hobby had provided countless presents for relatives and friends. Sometimes virtual strangers, seeing examples of her work hung in the house, ventured to inquire where they might come by like works of art. Invariably Adeline made the picture a present to whomever inquired, leaving a bare spot on the wall that in time was replaced with a new creation.
    Adeline was like the flowers she loved: fragile, floral scented, and beautiful. And perhaps also naive, fresh and unspoiled with the hint of dew still on her petals. Still, flowers often took a severe buffeting from man and nature and survived. Nonetheless, watching her sister, Vanessa knew Paulette was correct; she could not leave Adeline to Mr. Wilmot’s less than tender mercies. While a man like him fascinated Vanessa for his financial success and aura of leashed power, he terrified Adeline. Vanessa wanted to understand the source of his power and magnetism. He aroused strange feelings within her, and she wondered if they might not be the precursors to love. If he would quit his possessive nature and strive to acquire an empathy and concern for others around him, he might make an ideal husband. She knew she could do worse.
    Tonight she needed to spend time in his company. It would not do for him to lose patience with her and disappear out of her life. A young American woman’s options for matrimony in New Orleans were slim, at best, within their social circle.
    It was a pity Adeline did not have a suitor; she deserved her own happiness and, truthfully, was more ready for marriage than Vanessa herself. Vanessa decided that in the future she would have to account herself as matchmaker for Adeline. Tonight, however, she did need her to accompany Mr. Danielson. Luckily, they had for years maintained an easy friendship. In many instances, Adeline talked more with him than with anyone! Of course, it was his children, whom she adored, that drew them to such familiarity.
    That was another matter. Children. Vanessa did not know how she felt about the possibility of becoming the stepmother of two rambunctious children. With Adeline they were like meek lambs, looking up at her with adoration. Adeline would definitely be a favored aunt should she marry Mr. Danielson.
    Could the warm, friendly feelings she felt for Mr. Danielson evolve into love? He and Mr. Wilmot were so different, but truthfully, Vanessa didn’t know which of the two she could love. To be quite blunt about it, Vanessa admitted she didn’t even know what love was.
    She fiddled restlessly with the fringe on the drapery swag hung on either side of the French doors. “Mama,” she said over her shoulder, “how will I know when I’m in love?” Behind her, Amanda Mannion jabbed her needle into her finger, quickly raising it to her lips to nurse the afflicted member. “I beg your pardon?”
    Vanessa came back to the sofa and sat down, her face earnest. “How will I know when I’m in love? I guess what I really want to know is: What is love?”
    Mrs. Mannion carefully slid her needle into the fabric so as not to lose it, then leaned back in her chair. “That is a difficult question to