Page 4 of The Senator's Wife

“How are you feeling, darling?” Whit leaned into her, his hand cupping her elbow as they moved from the group they’d been chatting with. He looked so elegant, she thought, dressed formally in black tie.

“Not too bad.” She smiled at him, although the earlier pain inher hip was now shooting down her leg. “But maybe we should skip out before the dancing and leave after dinner.”

“Of course. You say the word when you’re ready.”

They continued around the room together, greeting and chatting. Sloane took in the beautiful designer gowns the women wore. Bethesda, Georgetown Park, and The Shops at Wisconsin Place might be fine for everyday wear, but formal events were a different animal, calling for designer gowns that were one of a kind. No one wanted to see the dress she was wearing on another guest, which meant buying couture or a call to your own stylist who knew exactly what became you, and who took care of finding the perfect dress. Every designer was represented tonight. The Balmain Sloane wore was over five years old. Her foundation work made her even more aware of what other women lacked, and she reckoned that the combined money spent on the evening wear and jewels in this room could easily pay for several shelters that would help families get back on their feet.

“Sloane!” An older woman, Congresswoman Faye Chambers, a good friend of Rosemary, Sloane’s former mother-in-law, gushed in a deep southern accent, and brushed her cheek against Sloane’s.

“Faye, how nice to see you,” Sloane said.

“If you ladies will excuse me, I need to have a quick word with Justice Meyers,” Whit said.

Once he’d walked away, Faye moved in closer to Sloane and said in a quiet voice, “So, how’s married life? I have to admit I was a tad surprised when I heard. Rosemary wasn’t too pleased about it. But then again, she’s not been herself since Robert died. I certainly hope it hasn’t put a strain on your relationship with her.” She raised her eyebrows and gave Sloane an exaggerated smile. “But of course, I hope you’ll both be very happy.”

Sloane had no intention of discussing her relationship with Rosemary. “Thank you,” Sloane said. “I hope you enjoy your evening.” As Faye walked away, another woman approached and held out a hand.

“Mrs. Montgomery, I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Grace Minnows. I worked with your husband, and I just wanted to say what a wonderful man Robert was. We were all so sad when he passed.”

Sloane recognized her name. She was a senator that Robert had mentioned favorably. They had worked together on several initiatives. Her eyes filled, and she reached out to grasp the woman’s hands. “Thank you so much. He spoke highly of you as well.”

“That’s so nice to hear. Well, I think we’ll be lining up soon to greet the president, so I won’t hold you up. It was very nice meeting you.”

Sloane spotted Whit across the room and began to walk toward him, but her progress was blocked by Madelyn Sawyer, the woman Peg had accused Whit of being involved with during their marriage. Whit had assured Sloane that there was no truth to Peg’s accusations and that Peg was the one who had been cheating on him for years, picking up strangers at bars in a drunken haze. Madelyn, in a magnificent black velvet gown with a plunging neck, stood in front of her, the spicy scent of her Roja perfume filling the air. In the hollow of her throat, a necklace with a huge round diamond sparkled against her pale skin. In fact, she was covered in diamonds, Sloane realized, with diamonds dangling from her ears, a bracelet of thick baguettes on her wrist, and her famous diamond engagement ring sparkling on her finger. The woman was beautiful, no question about that, and had made plain her interest in Whit at other gatherings they’d attended. Sloane could understand why Peg had felt threatened by her.

“Ah, Sloane, just the woman I wanted to see.” When Sloane merely looked at her, saying nothing, Madelyn continued, reaching into her evening bag as she spoke. “Assuming you’d be here tonight, I brought something I’ve been meaning to give you.” She held out a check. “It’s a contribution to your foundation.”

Sloane and Robert had started the Emerson-Chase charitable foundation twenty years ago, to build and maintain domesticviolence shelters all over the country. Sloane took the check from Madelyn and, without looking at the amount, folded it and slipped it into her clutch. “Thank you,” she said.

“It’s for two hundred thousand, in case you didn’t notice.” Madelyn turned to leave, then swiveled back to face Sloane. “You’re looking pretty good. I’ve always admired how you’ve soldiered on despite your illness. How are you feeling?”

“Just fine,” Sloane replied.

Madelyn raised her chin, staring down her nose at Sloane. “I think it’s just wonderful of Whit to take on a woman with a serious disease. But I’ve always thought Whit was quite gallant.”

A rush of feelings swept over Sloane, the primary one distaste. She wouldn’t allow herself to be baited. But Madelyn moved in closer, her lips curled in a snarl. “By the way, congratulations on the nuptials. Whit’s so lucky to have made such a good match.” She tilted her head and continued before Sloane could respond. “Although some people were surprised by how fast you were both able to bounce back from such a tragedy.”

It took every ounce of restraint for Sloane not to turn on her heel and walk away from this contemptible woman.

“I wouldn’t exactly say we’ve bounced back. But life does go on, Madelyn. Even when you lose someone you love very deeply. But then again, that’s probably something you know little about.”

Madelyn’s eyes narrowed. “What are you—”

Sloane patted her shoulder and smiled. “Oh, that didn’t come out right. I meant, fortunately you haven’t lost someone you love. I can only imagine how devastated you’d be if something happened to Fred.”

Before Madelyn could reply, the announcement came that the presidential receiving line was in place and ready to greet their dinner guests.

“Well, that’s our cue,” Sloane said, turning just as Whit came walking up. “Hi, darling,” she said, taking his hand. “See you inside, Madelyn.”

“What was that all about?” Whit asked as they walked away.

Madelyn was brazen and audacious, and regardless of Whit’s disinterest, continued to seek him out at events to which they were all inevitably invited. Fred and Madelyn were a Washington power couple, and Sloane didn’t kid herself that Madelyn was merely arm candy. Sloane had never warmed to her, even before Peg’s accusations. She found her cold and self-centered, but to her credit Madelyn had brains, was politically savvy, and could more than hold her own. That, along with her stunning looks, was a formidable combination. She’d certainly intimidated Peg, but Sloane was not Peg. She wasn’t about to allow this woman to make her insecure, and she wasn’t going to let Whit think that she didn’t have faith in him. “She gave me a donation for the foundation,” was all she said.

They moved arm in arm up the line until finally their names were announced: “Senator Whitaker Montgomery and Sloane Montgomery.” President Marshall Beckermann and the first lady had become good friends of Sloane and Robert’s when both men had been in the Senate together. A good-looking couple in their midfifties, they were both popular and generally well liked by the media. Sloane and Anne Beckermann had been new Senate wives together in those early years, forming a fast friendship that continued to this day, and their daughters, who’d grown up together, were close as well. The night after Robert’s funeral, Anne had spent the night with Sloane, and on many nights after his death, Sloane had dinner with the first family in their private quarters at the White House. She was forever grateful to Anne for her thoughtfulness in those first months after Robert’s death, when the house felt so cold and empty with him gone and Emmy living in California.

“Oh, Sloane. So darn good to see you,” the first lady said, hugging her close. “It’s wonderful to see you looking so happy; you deserve it. Your table is right next to ours,” she whispered in her ear, her smile wide as she released her.

Sloane had called Anne when things had started to get seriouswith Whit. She’d wanted her advice and, if not her approval, then at least the opinion of her good friend who had known and loved Robert. Anne’s voice had warmed when Sloane told her she was thinking of remarrying. Sloane could still remember her words:You might be one of the few women lucky enough to have found two truly good men to love.

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