Cass Arrives in Toronto
Cass stands on the steps of the questionable establishment set in the stone building, teetering on the precipice of facing her oldest fear—failure.
A few days spent observing and following the Ward family patriarch under the guise of an article on his patriotic support of the war raging in Europe. Cass is taking the opportunity to covertly question the unsuspecting friends of Fredrick Ward, hoping that booze and her tight-fitted dress—a dress she loathes—will loosen the tongues of those in the exclusive gambling den below the streets of the city without bringing attention to herself.
“You can do this, Cassandra,” she whispers beneath her breath, a slight tremble in her fingers as she wrings her hands until they ache. “Natalie is counting on you.”
Cass steels her spine and descends the steps pushing open the heavy wooden door and into a dimly lit, smoke-filled entrance. A burgundy curtain loomed behind a towering figure blocking entry to the notorious Lion’s Den, however the thick material does little to hide the lively music and raucous laughter beyond the barricade.
She approaches the bouncer as if she were a regular of the establishment, handing him a bill with a sultry smile she doesn’t feel, exuding a confidence she does not possess.
Her father’s words resound in her mind. If you want to be taken seriously as a journalist, you must build relationships and contacts yourself. However, Cass did not suspect she would need such scandalous apparel in her endeavours although she probably should have.
Men are all the same.
Much to her surprise, her ruse works, and she is permitted entrance to the private club.
The roaring noise hits Cass first, celebratory cheers and bets rising above all other conversation. A lively band onstage play jazz with an enthusiasm appreciated by several dancing couples on the far side of the room.
Tables filled with bedecked socialites and men from genteel society committing lewd acts of revelry within such an establishment is shocking to Cass, much to her shame. She has never felt like such a sheltered debutaunte then she does in this moment, overwhelmed and unprepared for the unsavoury world of men.
But she will not allow herself to falter.
Cass scans the crowd, noticing a group of men playing poker in the centre of the room on an elevated platform, champagne and women in abundance surrounding them.
Fredrick’s friends, she presumes based on the descriptions of Fredrick’s acquaintances she managed to procure around town. Fredrick’s reputation is one of duality—gentleman by day, encompassing himself with only the most reputable citizens in Toronto, and scoundrel by night, fraternizing in several unsavoury establishments around the city, the Lion’s Den being one of the more palatable of them.
From the lips of the housemaids in Clayton Ward’s residence, Cass was informed that Fredrick and his pals would frequent the gambling den regularly, on poker nights more often than not. Hard to believe the aloof and rather self-contained man she knew would enjoy such frivolity, but Cass must pursue all leads, and it is commonly known that housemaids see and know all.
Cass approaches the table, and three are left in the game.
“Call.”
The next man pauses before matching. As does the finely dressed man who seems to have imbibed far too much throughout the night.
“I’ll raise.” The blond man cracks his neck in an unseemly fashion before tossing chips into the centre.
The drunkard’s face falls before he folds slapping his cards down on the table, and the other one concedes.
While the blond man gathers his chips, a self-assured look on his face, Cass slides into position beside several spectators, listening and waiting as she observes the game.
Only after the blond wins another match and approaches the bar does Cass make a move of her own.
A bluff in exchange for information.
“May I buy you a drink?” she purrs, hoping she can pull off her ploy as a wanton woman.
He turns, appraising her with brash appreciation. “Of course, beautiful.”
Cass looks toward the bartender to hide the cringe on her face. She has never been called beautiful, nor does she believe the sincerity of the man before her. And she cannot say she particularly appreciates his vulgar assessment of her body.
“Whiskey, neat.” Cass orders.
“Same.”
The man throws back his head swallowing the dark liquid in one drink before slamming the glass on the counter. She winces but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“I do not believe I have ever seen you before,” he remarks, body turning toward Cass as he taps the counter, gesturing for another drink without looking at the bartender.
Who would look the help in the eye?
“I would have remembered,” he adds.
She smiles, controlling her desire to roll her eyes at his poor attempt at inebriated flirtation, instead taking burning sip from her own glass.
“I am looking for an old friend, but I don’t see him here. I haven’t in some time. Perhaps you know him?”
He looks annoyed, but intrigued. “Who is your friend?”
“Fredrick Ward.”
The man’s face lights up. “Hey, Jimmy!” He turns to face his former poker opponent—the drunkard. “This is one of Freddy’s gals.”
One of Freddy’s gals? The comment sours Cass’s stomach.
The blond steps closer as the other man draws near, his oiled hair disheveled from a long night of running his hands through his russet waves.
“I am Jimmy Roy. And you are?” His red eyes are an indication of his habits, a roguish grin edged with entitlement.
“Hilda Johansson.” She smiles, giving him the name she created prior to her arrival. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
The blond places his arm around her shoulders, the weight of the appendage insufferable. “Louis Laurent. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Johansson.” The smell of the man’s pungent cologne nearly chokes Cass. “Unfortunately, our Freddy up and left us.”
Her lip quivers, “Oh no. To war?”
“Close. Marriage.” He winks.
Cass laughs through gritted teeth.
“That is disappointing,” she whines, leaning on him as if she herself were under the influence. “He was quite the catch. Which lucky lady caught his eye?”
“Why do you want to know?” Louis asks, his arm lowering to her waist.
Cass pouts. “Just curious about who won the heart of Toronto’s most eligible bachelor.”
Jimmy smiles and leans on the counter of the bar. “Most eligible, eh?”
“He was always the most handsome man in every room.” She sighs.
Cass can acknowledge that Fredrick is objectively beautiful, delicate and regal. A true gentleman in appearance. If not for her suspicion of the man’s character, she may find him rather attractive.
“So who finally claimed his heart?”
“Some heiress.” Louis laughs. “But his heart was hardly a consideration.”
Cass’s blood runs cold as the men chatter, leading the conversation back to poker. She plies them with more whiskey and waits.
After what seems like hours later and several unfortunate dances with both men, she finally gets the opportunity to follow up with more questions.
“Why did Freddy have to leave the city? Why couldn’t he have married some fine girl here at home?” she asks, as if implying herself as an option.
Jimmy laughs before slurring, “Firstly, because everyone in this town knows Freddy’s old man is broke.”
Cass leans in, eyes wide. “What do you mean? I thought the old man owned some big imported goods business.”
Louis smirks. “That’s what the old man tells everyone who will listen.”
The Ward family business seems to be a rouse hiding a number of secrets, Cass cannot help but wonder if Fredrick has more to hide than his father’s misadventures.
“Truth is, his father’s in debt, and a great deal of it is to some pretty unsavoury men, I hear,” Jimmy slurs. “So, the old man sent Freddy out west to marry someone respectable who could get him out of his … situation.”
“How would marriage help him?”
“With a substantial dowry and an honest reputation,” he adds. “Clean up some of Freddy’s image issues before he inevitably takes over the family business.”
“A true politician, indeed.” Louis cackles.
Cass staves off the rage she feels within after hearing the ploy Mr. Ward set in motion for his son. The question remains, did Fredrick willfully mislead Natalie with no other motive but money, or were his affections sincere?
For no one chooses the family they are born to, therefore one cannot be judged for their familial relations. Not even Fredrick.
“Why would Fredrick tie himself to someone just to save his father’s business and reputation?” Then, she asks one more question before she can happily leave and never see these two vagabonds again. “Why would he bother when he has such a promising career as a lawyer?”
Louis winks. “Because Freddy’s reputation is no better than his old man’s round these parts.”
“What sort of reputation does Fredrick have?” She whispers.
“Haven’t you heard?” Jimmy leans back and body examines her with an amused expression, lingering on the swell of her breasts with vulgar appreciation. “Freddy’s had his hand up enough skirts in this city that no man in his right mind would let his daughter marry him.”
“Sorry, darlin’.” Louis adds. “You’re nothing special to our Freddy.”
Cass feels utterly sick at the revelation regarding Natalie’s husband, his questionable intentions, and vile reputation. Andrew’s suspicions had been correct, Fredrick is not a man to be trusted. The question remains, how great is his deception? How much does Fredrick have to do with the nefarious nature of his father’s ploy? Did Fredrick love Natalie, or was she simply a convenient means to an end?
Cass is horrified by the circumstances that have befallen her friend, a kind a trusting woman who would have never considered the devious plans of men.
Natalie, who have you married?
