An Unlikely Suitor (12 page)

Sofia looked around the bedroom for something to use as a weapon. If only she’d thought to get a knife from the kitchen. But now, her only choice was a hairbrush. She held it to her chest and closed the door most of the way, standing to the side so Bonwitter wouldn’t be able to see her.

Lucy, doing what Sofia had not, grabbed a knife and held it behind her back. She nodded to Mamma, who asked, “Who is it?”

“It’s Mr. Standish. I need to talk—”

Mamma opened the front door and Sofia opened hers. Realizing she was holding the hairbrush, she ran it through her hair. They’d been silly, getting worked up over nothing. If Bonwitter wanted to get them, he wouldn’t knock on the door, he’d break it down.

“I’m sorry to come so late, ladies, but—”

“No, no. Come in, come in,” Mamma said.

He saw the sisters and nodded. “Girls.” His gaze moved to the knife in Lucy’s hand. “You were expecting someone else?”

Lucy got to the point. “What did the police do with the information about the X’s?”

“Girls,” Mamma said. “Where are your manners? Mr. Standish, please sit down.”

He took Mamma’s chair, and Sofia and Mamma pulled other chairs close. Lucy stood.

Unfortunately, the look on Mr. Standish’s face did not reveal a victory.

“The police were very interested in the information about the X’s, Lucy. They commented on the wisdom of such a move. So for that, we all commend you.”

“I don’t want commendation, I want—”

“He’s gone.”

“Gone?” Mamma beat Sofia to the question.

“The police went to Bonwitter’s house to check for the X’s and found him gone. Moved out.”

The implications were horrendous. “Not only will he not be arrested, he’s on the loose?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Sofia remembered Bonwitter’s eyes, the smell of his breath, the pain of his grip. “He’ll come after us, won’t he?”

“Will he?” Mamma asked.

Lucy crossed her arms, making a protective wall over her chest. “He’ll at least come after me. I cost him his job and set the police on him.”

Mamma crossed herself, and Sofia heard her utter a prayer.

“I’m afraid there is that chance,” Mr. Standish said. “For not only has he lost his job, he’s lost his source for stolen goods. I’m so sorry, Lucy. You did all the right things, but—”

“But one. I didn’t tell you about the X’s in time.”

He raised a hand. “We each have many should-have-dones to suffer. But know that I do not take Bonwitter’s freedom lightly. I have informed the neighborhood policemen to keep an eye out.”

Neighborhood police wouldn’t have much incentive protecting three working-class women. “That’s not enough,” Sofia said. “We need to move to a place where he can’t find us.”

“I didn’t mean to bring this kind of danger upon us,” Lucy said.

“No, indeed you did not.” Mr. Standish stood. “But let me assure you, I will do my best to keep you and your family safe. I promise.”

He refused Mamma’s offer of dinner and left them. Sofia looked out the window and saw him walk across the street to talk to a policeman. “He’s there. He’s really going to stand there and guard us.”

Mamma pulled the curtain closed. “Come, girls. Let us eat, thank God for Mr. Standish, and pray for God’s protection.
Che sarà sarà
—what is to be, will be.”

This was all Lucy’s fault.

Rowena opened the window of her bedroom and stood before it. There was absolutely no breeze. Summers in New York could be unbearable. At least in Newport there was relief from the breeze off the ocean.

Speaking of which . . . Mother had instructed all of them to make a list of what to pack for Newport.

Rowena stood to the side of the lace curtains and spread open her dressing gown. For the briefest moment she felt some relief. But when there was a knock at her door she pulled it shut again. “Yes?”

“It’s me, Wena. Let me in.”

What did Hugh want at this time of night?

She let him in. He too was ready for bed, wearing his pajamas and a robe.

“What?” she asked. “You’re not going out tonight? What will your friends do without you?”

He put his hands in the robe pockets. “Don’t be cruel, Wena. Not you.”

She
was
being cruel and chastised herself for it. “I’m sorry. Have a seat. I’m trying to put together my list for Newport, but am finding it difficult to function in this stifling heat.”

He went to the window and was able to open it a few inches more. He leaned against the sill, looking out over the darkened street below. “No air out here either.”

She feared for his safety. “Hugh, come in. You’ll lose your balance.”

He came inside and sat upon the edge of her bed, hooking his slippered feet on the side rail. “I saw Edward kiss you today.”

Rowena felt herself blush, and returned to the chair and her list on the table close by. “It was just a small kiss.”

“Don’t get defensive. It’s not like you haven’t kissed—” He paused and studied her face. “You haven’t been kissed before, have you?”

She dipped her head to her list, trying to hide her blush. “None of your business.”

She expected another snide remark but was surprised when he simply said, “Edward is a good man.”

It was not like Hugh to concede an attribute in another. “You’re a good man too, brother.”

With his hands perched on the bed near either hip, he straightened his arms and shrugged. “I wish you were right.”

She’d never seen him so pitiful. “I am right. You are a good man. You just have to show it more often.”

With a soft laugh he hopped off the bed and strolled around the room. “It’s far easier to be otherwise, far easier to be the wag and the life of the party.”

“Can’t you work hard
and
play hard?”

He stopped fingering a bird statue on the mantel and looked at her. “Why should I try? The business won’t be mine to run, it will be Edward’s.”

Rowena felt bad for him, and yet . . . “Must you be in charge? Can you find fulfillment in another role?”

“Accept being a prince when being king was in my grasp?”

She stood to go to him. “But was it in your grasp, Hugh? Was Father considering you for that role before he and Mr. DeWitt set their sights on Edward?”

His face struggled to maintain composure, and Rowena saw flashes of the little brother who still lived within this grown frame. He offered a laugh that was only partly successful. “Cruel twice in one conversation, Wena? Perhaps being kissed has changed you for the worse.”

His words wounded her and she embraced him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She could feel his heart beating wildly.

He didn’t return her embrace but gently pushed himself free. “I accept your apology, for how can I do otherwise when the truth is being spoken?”

“But, Hugh . . . if only you’d try to do something to improve your reputation. Perhaps then, Father and Mother would—”

There was another knock on the door and their mother entered. Her face revealed her shock at seeing Hugh present. “Son, daughter . . . I’ve come to check on your list, Rowena.”

She lifted it from the table as evidence. “I’m working on it.”

“And you, Hugh? Have you made your packing list?”

He shrugged. “Lists are overrated.”

She was taken aback. “Nonsense. You don’t want to arrive in Newport without the necessities, do you?”

Hugh patted down his chest and the pockets of his robe and said, “It appears I have those.” He strode to her, kissed her on the cheek, and said, “Good night, Mother.” With a backward glance, he added, “Wena.”

Mother shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with that boy.”

“He’s trying,” Rowena said.

“Trying to do what? Cause us heartache and embarrassment? Cause us worry and frustration?”

Rowena had no words in his defense. To change the subject she offered her mother the list for her approval.

And, of course, received it.

S
ofia!”

Sofia awakened from her bad dreams of Bonwitter to find Lucy already gone from their bed.

The outcry was repeated. “Sofia! Mamma!”

Her dreams rushed to meet reality. Was Lucy hurt? Had Bonwitter hurt—?

Sofia found her sister at the living room window, pointing to the street below. Sofia took a look. “What? I don’t see anything.”

“Exactly,” Lucy said. “Where’s Mr. Standish? Where’s the policeman?”

Sofia shared her first awful thought. “Bonwitter killed them.”

“Enough,
piccolina
,” Mamma said as she expertly twisted her long hair into a bun. “They’ve been watching over us for a week now. Night and day. We will be safe at work—
if
Bonwitter’s even a true threat to us.”

“Oh, he’s a threat,” Lucy said.

“How do you know?” Sofia asked.

“How do you
not
know?”

Lucy had a point, and Mamma was also right. They were safest in the workroom filled with many women.

The sooner they got there the better.

The bell on the door jangled and Mrs. Flynn motioned to Lucy. “Come. It has to be the Langdons.”

It was. Mrs. Langdon led the way, carrying a basket lined with cloth. Were they bringing a special gift? Greetings were exchanged and then the basket was handed over.

“Merci,”
Mrs. Flynn said.

“Oh, don’t thank us. We found it outside, on the stoop.”

With another glance, Lucy noticed that the fabric covering the contents of the basket was muslin. Her nerves stood on end. “Let me take that,” she said, heading to the workroom. “I’ll be right back.”

Mrs. Flynn gave her a quizzical look, but let her go.

Lucy brought the basket to the main worktable. Ruth objected. “Move that thing. I’m trying to cut—”

“It was by the front door. I think it’s from Bonwitter.”

The women tentatively moved forward to see.

“How do you know?” Tessie whispered.

“It’s just a feeling.”

“Open it,” Dorothy said.

“Carefully,” Sofia said.

Ruth handed her a pair of scissors. “Use these to move the fabric aside.”

Their caution added to her own, and Lucy slid the scissors under one of the edges of fabric and flopped it back.

A red X appeared.

The women gasped.

“It
is
from him!” Tessie said.

Sofia cowered behind her mother. “Don’t open it!”

Lucy had to. She had to see. She used the scissors to open another flap of the muslin, and saw another red X. The impact of seeing them had faded, but the implication had not. He’d found her out. There would be no convicting him now.

With the opening of the third flap, Lucy could see what was inside. She quickly covered the contents and carried the basket toward the back.

“What’s in it?” Tessie asked. “I didn’t see.”

“You don’t need to see,” Lucy said. “It’s a dead rat.”

“But why?”

“Because I ratted him out. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m taking this out to the alley.”

She left the women discussing it without her. Although she’d appeared strong for their sake, the sight of the red X’s and the rat shook her mightily. Yes, she’d done a good thing getting Bonwitter out of the shop, and had attempted another good deed in getting him convicted for theft. But since he’d been able to talk himself out of the charge and had moved to who knows where . . . she’d put herself and everyone at the shop in danger.

After dumping the entire basket in the garbage she leaned against the doorjamb and closed her eyes.
I’m sorry for putting everyone in danger, but I’m not sorry for turning him in.
She opened her eyes a moment. Should she be sorry for
that
? Had she overstepped her position?

Mamma appeared at the door. “Come inside. Madame says the Langdons are waiting.”

Lucy had forgotten all about the customers. She rushed through the workroom and paused but a moment at the curtain to try to capture some calm, some confidence. Then she applied a smile and entered the lobby.

“Oh, there you are,” Rowena said. “Is everything all right?”

Rowena was already wearing a pale yellow evening dress Lucy had altered. “That’s my question for you. Do you like the dress?”

Rowena turned toward the mirror. “Very much. Once again, you’ve done just the right thing.”

At least in this.

Rowena stood very still while Lucy arranged a lace flourish on her blouse and attached a blue ribbon choker with flat bows that marked the back of her neck.

“The blue of the ocean sky,” Lucy said. “If this ensemble doesn’t bring to mind the essence of summer, I’ll never sew another stitch.”

“You’ll do no such thing!” Rowena studied her image. The pink satin in the oversized puffed sleeves was tucked into elbow ruffles of scalloped lace. A flat lace collar dipped low in a V, and the bodice was covered with a sheer lace overlay that flounced over a blue satin waistband. The skirt wasn’t gathered at the waist but folded in deep pleats, and the fabric was a floral sateen of blue and pink flowers.

Lucy pulled the pouf of the sleeves to even better advantage. “You’re as fresh as a summer garden. Your fiancé will swoon at the mere sight of you.”

Although Rowena loved the outfit, and indeed found it perfect for Newport,
it
was perfect.
It
was lovely. Looking past the dress to the girl wearing it . . . making Edward swoon? “I fear I don’t possess the capacity to make men swoon, no matter what the fashion.”

Lucy gave her a chiding look. “You mustn’t say such a thing. You have a fuller beauty than anyone I’ve ever known.”

Rowena put a hand on Lucy’s arm and looked into her deep brown eyes. “You are a true friend. Not truer than many, truer than
any
.”

Lucy placed her own hand on top of Rowena’s. “As you are to me.”

As if on cue, they both glanced toward Rowena’s mother. For she would not approve . . . in no way would approve. How sad that friendship was constrained by rules and class rather than emotion and need.

Lucy stepped away to look at the skirt and blouse. “That’s the last one. You are fully prepared to take Newport by storm.”

Rowena smiled. Briefly. For now their time together was over. She would be going to Newport for six weeks. Lucy would be left behind, working. Rowena had learned more about Lucy than she knew about any of the society friends she’d known for a lifetime, and she’d shared more about herself. They’d chatted like two sisters, talking about fashion, men, and families. They’d talked about being frustrated with various aspects of their lives, longing to be happy, and wanting to feel they had worth.

Soon Rowena would be off to Newport for the rest of the summer. Hopefully, in the autumn she’d return to the shop, needing a new set of clothing for the New York social season, but until then . . .

Rowena leaned forward and whispered for Lucy’s ears alone. “I wish you could come with me.”

Lucy suffered a laugh and immediately covered it with a hand. “If wishes were horses . . .”

“Then beggars would ride.”

When Lucy went back to the workroom to get Madame to wrap things up, Rowena approached her mother. “Could I ask a friend to go to Newport with me? You’ve said so in the past, but I’ve never brought anyone.”

Mother adjusted her gloves. “ ’Tis rather late notice, dear. And who were you thinking of?”

Rowena hesitated, and in that hesitation her mother looked past her, to the workroom, and back into her eyes. “No. Absolutely not.”

“But we’ve grown so fond of each other, Mother. I’ve shared things with Lucy that I’ve never shared with another—”

Mother stood. “Which was an error on your part. We’ve always taught you to be polite to everyone, respectful of your elders, and considerate to those of lesser rank, but you cannot socialize with them, Rowena. You can’t be friends with a seamstress, especially not an Italian seamstress.”

“But we are friends.”

“You’re mistaking her professional attention with friendship. I assure you she does not expect to be invited anywhere within your circle. In fact, I suffer to say she would be mortified to find herself in such a situation. Do you wish to cause Lucy discomfort?”

“No, of course—”

Mother waved a hand, dispelling the issue into the air between them. “Then I’ll hear no more of it. Lucy has provided a service to us; she has achieved what no seamstress has previously accomplished. Yes, you should feel gratitude for her insight, but she is being paid for her services. And honestly, I know she’d rather have the money. They all would.”

Rowena looked away, gazing at the curtain that hung between Lucy and herself. But with her mother’s words the curtain gained substance and became solid. It was an unyielding rampart, fortified to keep them apart.

The delight in the new wardrobe faded with the loss of a friend.

Lucy moved a piece of pasta around her plate. And around.

“You’re not eating.”

“I’ll eat your portion if you don’t want it,” Sofia said.

Mamma intervened. “You will do no such thing.” She turned back to Lucy. “Are you worried about Bonwitter?”

Always. But instead of admitting it, Lucy shrugged. “I’m sad.”

“About?”

“Not seeing Rowena again.”

Mamma blinked as though the subject had never come to mind. “You can’t be friends with her, Lucia. It’s like asking a queen to be friends with a washerwoman.”

Lucy took offense. “I’m far from being a washerwoman, and Rowena is far from being a queen.”

“She’s rich.”

“That is neither her doing nor her fault.”

Mamma sighed and looked toward the window as if gaining supporters there. “The world does not work the way we wish it to, daughter. It never has and never will.”

Lucy set her fork down, her appetite fully gone. “The ways of the world could change,” she said. “Rowena and I spoke as friends, shared things that only friends share.”

“What kind of things?” Sofia asked.

“Private things.”

“Like what?”

“Sofia.” The tone of Mamma’s voice made her hush. “Even if Rowena wanted to be your friend, Mrs. Langdon would move against—”

“But what if she likes me?”