which explained their traveling together. Easier than presenting a wife, since any marriage of his would be in every newspaper in the country . . . not that he told Clara as much.
âMiss Dobson,â Webber said in his heavy German accent, and shook her hand. âIt is very nice to meet you.â
âLikewise, Mr. Webber.â Clara slid onto the plush seat and moved toward the window. As Ted sat next to her, she stuck out her hand to the woman opposite. âMrs. Webber, it is a pleasure.â
Webberâs wife visibly recoiled, her bony face awash in horror. After a nudge from her husband, she placed two gloved fingers into Claraâs grasp. âMiss Dobson.â
Undeterred, Clara sat back. âI am famished. Mr. Harper told me to order as much food as I wanted, but I told him that we women canât just eat like men do. Isnât that right, Mrs. Webber?â
Mrs. Webber blinked at Claraâs rapid-fire pace. Ted could relate, as his initial reaction to her had been much the same.
A waiter appeared, saving the need for further conversation. They requested drinks, lagers for the men and champagne for the ladies.
âWe had not heard of your engagement,â Mrs. Webber said to Ted.
âIt was rather sudden. Havenât even had time to purchase a ring yet. Luckily, she still said yes.â Chuckling, he reached over and clasped Claraâs gloved hand. As soon as he touched her, he realized his mistake. Even through cloth, awareness sizzled through him. All the energy she held in abundance transferred to his body and hummed just under his skin.
The shock of his reaction to such a chaste touch rendered him useless for a long moment. What would it be like to feel her bare skin? Likely heâd incinerate on the spot.
Thankfully, drinks arrived and he quickly withdrew his hand. Cleared his throat. Tried to calm his heart, the organ beating as swiftly as when heâd first touched Jenny Turnerâs breasts in her fatherâs barn all those years ago. He was too old and sensible to feel this way over a woman. Get a hold of yourself, Harper.
Sensing his discomfort, Clara took over. âYes, it was quite sudden. I fear I swept poor Mr. Harper off his feet, not the other way around.â Her smile, wide and beguiling, did not help his racing pulse. âHeâs forever telling me,â she continued, âthat I am like a locomotive, barreling my way through life. How did you and Mr. Webber meet?â
So it began. Clara did not stop talking or peppering Mrs. Webber with questions during two rounds of drinks and dinner. Ted listened with half an ear, the other half focused on convincing Erik to let New American Bank finance Webber Brewing Companyâs upcoming expansion. Four banks were vying for the honor, and a lot of money stood to be made.
âNow, Harper,â Webber said through a mouthful of steak, âIâve already told your people no. I wonât give you my business.â
âWhy?â
This was from Clara, who had now turned her attention to Ted and Erikâs conversation. Ted gave her a pointed look that went completely ignored since she was only watching Webber.
The brewer wiped his mouth with his napkin. âYou want to know the reasons I canât work with him?â
âYes, I would.â She indicated Mrs. Webber. âFrom both of you, actually.â
âNow, I donât thinkââ Ted started until Clara placed a hand on his arm.
âDarling, let them speak. I would rather hear it for myself.â
Ted ground his teeth. Hadnât he told her to keep Mrs. Webber occupied so the men could do business? Damn her for interfering.
âThat is the problem,â Mrs. Webber said, her Bavarian voice laced with satisfaction. âHe does not want to hear what we have to say. Not from a woman. Everyone only wants to talk to my husband, man-to-man. Do you know, Miss Dobson, who started our brewery?â
Clara