The raw, untamed strangeness emanating from Dutch and his companions only deepened Ms. Camille's interest. She found herself drawn, inexorably, to this man whose very presence radiated an undeniable aura of raw, untamed violence. She craved to witness the method by which he, a man clearly forged in the fires of conflict, intended to reshape the so-called feminist movement.
A faint, knowing smile touched Ms. Camille's lips. She extended her hand with effortless grace, her touch light as she shook Dutch's. "Hello, Mr. Arthur, it's a pleasure to meet you."
A flicker of something unreadable passed through Dutch's eyes, yet his smile remained unwavering. "Oh, Ms. Camille, the pleasure is entirely mine."
He gazed at Ms. Camille's delicate features, his own shock no less profound than hers. Camille Morgan. The name itself was innocuous enough; Arthur, after all, was also a Morgan. But paired with her surname, and Ms. Dorothea's deliberately sparse introduction, it screamed of significant lineage. She was, unmistakably, connected to the legendary Morgan Family of Wall Street, New York.
And what, precisely, did the Morgan Family represent in 1899 America? To put it bluntly: you might not know the President of the United States, but you knew John Pierpont Morgan, or JP Morgan. Further introduction was superfluous. Suffice it to say, General Electric Company, the titan mentioned earlier, was forged through JP Morgan's singular will. By 1900, Morgan Company's railroads stretched for an unimaginable 108,000 kilometers(80k miles), a staggering two-thirds of all railroads in the United States. His subsequent influence needed no recounting. In short: JP Morgan was the world's creditor. Until his death, he remained the undisputed king of Wall Street, the very lifeblood of the American economy.
Therefore, if Ms. Camille was, indeed, a direct scion of the Morgan Family, her influence in this capitalist America would be immeasurable. With total assets estimated at 12 billion US dollars, even Cornwall's vast fortune at the time likely paled in comparison to a mere fraction of hers. The power she commanded was truly beyond imagining.
Dutch harbored his suspicions, yet he remained unmoved. Such goodwill and assistance from the upper echelons of society were never earned through mere fawning. Their intricate social interactions hinged upon a single, undeniable currency: interest. Dutch needed to possess interests grand enough to seize their attention, to forge a deeper alliance with Ms. Camille. As for her presence today, it was likely born purely of curiosity regarding his unconventional approach to feminist issues.
If his intuition served him, Dutch surmised he wouldn't encounter her again after this meeting. Beyond the feminist angle, he could conceive of no other intersection between their vastly disparate worlds. Of course, whether there was an intersection or not was irrelevant. In an era devoid of nuclear bombs, or even functional planes or tanks, the so-called steel tycoons and ultimate conglomerates possessed no true defense against guns and cannons. Otherwise, Ciel would not have come so close to protecting the entire world.
Ms. Dorothea's introductions continued. "Oh, Mr. Arthur, this is Ann Heidy. She is one of the revered leaders of the Saint Denis feminist movement, and Ann is exceptionally pleased with your plan, which is why she honors us with her presence today."
Dutch's gaze shifted. Ms. Ann Heidy was not advanced in age, possessing the classic appearance of a European and American woman. Her figure was remarkably well-preserved, her skin fair, and she exuded a certain undeniable charm. Ann Heidy remained a minor character in the game, yet in reality, her family commanded significant sway within Saint Denis.
The city's trams and various electrical infrastructures were the Heidy Family's domain; while not astronomically profitable, their influence was undeniable. Crucially, the Heidy Family also held a prestigious councilor seat in Louisiana, signifying their elevated status within the state.
Dutch smiled, extending his hand to gently shake Ms. Ann Heidy's, his movements imbued with the utmost gentility. "Oh, Mrs. Heidy, it's a pleasure to meet you."
A cunning, foxy smile bloomed on Ann Heidy's still-charming, noblewoman's face, her eyes curving into seductive crescents as she reached for Dutch's hand, rubbing her palm slowly across his. Her voice, husky and laced with a different kind of allure, purred, "Oh, Mr. Arthur, actually, compared to 'Mrs. Heidy,' I much prefer you call me Ann. After all, I am already a widow."
Ms. O'Shea, standing behind Dutch, flushed crimson, her face a mask of barely suppressed fury. Jenny stood stiffly beside her, eyes wide, not daring to utter a sound.
Dutch merely smiled, withdrawing his hand smoothly. "Oh, well, Ms. Ann, it's a pleasure to meet you."
"This is Ms. Alice Lemieux," Dorothea continued, undeterred. "She is also one of the prominent representatives of women's rights in Saint Denis. Ms. Alice is captivated by your ideas, which is why she is here."
Dutch's gaze moved to the final woman. She too bore the typical features of a pale-skinned Bai Ren woman—delicate, profound, and, most importantly, strikingly young, appearing no older than twenty, brimming with youthful vitality. "Oh, Ms. Alice, it's a pleasure to meet you," Dutch smiled, extending his hand.
Alice Lemieux. The name resonated. The mayor of Saint Denis was Henry Lemieux. Clearly, Ms. Alice was a direct member of the Lemieux Family, the undisputed ruling dynasty of Saint Denis, a power equivalent to the Heidy Family, also holding a councilor's seat. Moreover, the Lemieux Family's councilors evidently wielded far greater influence, given that the mayor himself bore their name.
"Oh, Mr. Arthur, it's a pleasure to meet you," Ms. Alice said, her voice bright with genuine curiosity. "I can barely comprehend that someone who can bring such significant benefits to women would actually be a man, which I find incredibly novel. Oh, I mean nothing ill, I just find it wonderfully… new!" Ms. Alice's eyes, alight with fascination, observed Dutch and his companions, finding them utterly captivating. She had never encountered people with such a raw, untamed aura since childhood. Mr. Arthur and his men, how could she describe them? It was like a wolf entering a pack of huskies; despite their smiles, they evoked a subtle, thrilling palpitation in her chest.
The four women chatted with Dutch, their smiles unwavering, while Hosea and Arthur, seated nearby, their faces almost frozen in forced smiles, endured the surreal spectacle. Though they couldn't interject, their internal shock was profound.
Damn it, they thought, these hardened desperadoes are actually sitting here, engaging in polite conversation with people from these prominent, untouchable families. It's as bizarre as the Devil sharing coffee with God!