Far From Home (3 page)

Read Far From Home Online

Authors: Valerie Wood

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas, #Romance, #General, #Historical

BOOK: Far From Home
11.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Georgiana considered. What is the point of travelling so far and tying myself to some man whose ideals are not the same as mine and who makes decisions for me? I could have stayed in England and done that. ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘I wouldn’t want to do that. It wouldn’t suit at all.’

‘Then good luck to you, my dear,’ Mrs Burrows said wryly. ‘You’re going to need it!’

CHAPTER TWO

Mrs Burrows had recommended an hotel in New York, close to the park which was being created in the centre, an area of gardens, pleasant walks, lakes and arbours. ‘Not finished yet,’ she said. ‘But ask them for a room with a window overlooking it,’ she added. ‘Just in case you get homesick for the greenness of England.’ She had given a wistful smile. ‘As you will.’

Georgiana was enthralled by the lovely harbour as they sailed towards Manhattan Island and saw, bathed in the warm sunlight of spring, the panorama of tall buildings of New York. Living as she had, near to the Yorkshire town of Hull with its narrow medieval streets, she was most impressed by the wide roads, carriageways and boulevards, and the handsome mansions built upon them. Kitty gazed out of the hackney-carriage window, amazed at the magnificent hotels and the shopping plazas as they travelled along Broadway, the long broad avenue which ran through the centre.

They both drew in a breath when the carriage pulled up outside the Portland Hotel, Georgiana in dismay as she wondered how she would afford such luxury, and Kitty in delight as she saw the uniformed bellboys and commissionaires waiting on the wide steps to open the carriage doors and lead them through the central glass lobby into the reception hall.

‘Two rooms, if you please,’ Georgiana asked the reception clerk. ‘For myself and my maid.’

‘For yourself and your help, madam? You’re just in from England, I can tell!’ he said, and glanced at his register. ‘I’m not sure if we can accommodate you,’ he murmured. ‘We’re so very busy just now.’ He tapped his fingers on his mouth as he considered.

‘The hotel is recommended by Mrs Burrows,’ Georgiana said firmly, thinking that no matter the cost, all she wanted to do was climb into a bed which didn’t rock. ‘She particularly said to mention her name.’

‘Mrs Burrows! The English lady. Is she a friend of yours, madam?’ he said enthusiastically. ‘I just adore her, she is so quaint!’

Georgiana raised her eyebrows but made no rejoinder on his comment and after turning over a page in his register, he nodded, asked her to sign, snapped his fingers at a passing bellboy and told him to take Miss Gregory and Miss Kitty Kelly up to their rooms on the fourth floor. ‘Your luggage will follow shortly, Miss Gregory. Welcome to the Portland. I hope you enjoy your stay.’

A bed with muslin drapes dominated Georgiana’s large and luxurious room, but as well as a wardrobe and chests of drawers, there was a writing desk and comfortable chairs placed by the window which overlooked the new park. She saw men digging and planting trees in the grass and strangely, she thought, there were pigs snuffling in the newly dug area. On opening another door at the other side of the room, Georgiana discovered a bathroom with a bathtub, a washstand and a mahogany towel rail draped with thick white towels.

‘Oh, miss. It’s lovely,’ Kitty said. ‘A proper bathroom.’

‘Don’t get too fond of it, Kitty,’ Georgiana told her. ‘We’ll stay for a week or two until we find our way around and then look about for something a little smaller and less expensive.’ And I must try to remember that Kitty is my
help
and not my servant!

They both had a rest, then Georgiana put on her shoulder cape and her hat and they went down into the foyer. Kitty carried an umbrella, for the blue skies were clouding over, and they strolled out of the hotel to explore the streets of New York.

‘Folks is very friendly, Miss Gregory,’ Kitty remarked. She was very bright and chirpy and very excited at the newness of it all.

Georgiana agreed. Men touched their hats as they passed and ladies inclined their heads. ‘I think they must know we have just come off a ship,’ she said. ‘We must have the stamp of Englishness on us. Though I understand that there are many English people here, in spite of it being a Dutch city originally.’

But, as they explored, they realized that it was not only the English and Dutch who inhabited this city, but people from many nations, German, Italian, Irish and French. As they strayed down side streets, Indian, Mexican and Spanish men leaned in apparent idleness against doorways. There were also tenement buildings crowded together, with children sitting on the doorsteps, and Georgiana was reminded that, as in England, not all of the New York residents were affluent.

‘It’s a bit like home, Miss Gregory, isn’t it?’ Kitty said in a subdued voice. ‘There’s no getting away from poor folks, there’s even pigs rooting around amongst the rubbish.’

‘You’re absolutely right, Kitty,’ Georgiana agreed. She found she was rather despondent and maybe even a trifle homesick, as Mrs Burrows had said she might be. ‘Come along, we’ve seen enough for today. Let’s go back to the hotel for tea.’

The hotel lounge was large and divided up into smaller areas by stands of exotic plants and flowers and tall Chinese vases. A piano stood in one corner and Georgiana looked at it longingly. One of the things she was missing was her music. She was an accomplished player, though she hadn’t a strong melodic voice. After they had tea in the hotel Kitty excused herself and said she would go upstairs and start unpacking the trunks. ‘Everything will be creased if I don’t. Do you think they’ll have an ironing room, Miss Gregory?’

‘I’m sure they will, Kitty. Just ask at the reception desk,’ and Georgiana smiled to herself over the fact that she had taken tea with her maid, something she would never have done at home in England.

A woman approached her as she was idly watching people arriving and departing through the glass swing doors. She was perhaps in her early thirties and dressed in a yellow silk gown with a voluminous skirt and a wide straw hat trimmed with ribbons and flowers. ‘I beg your pardon.’ She spoke in a high drawling voice. ‘But I haven’t seen you here before. Are you newly arrived from England?’

‘I am.’ Georgiana smiled, glad to talk to someone. ‘Just this morning.’

The woman held her gaze. ‘Then welcome. I am Mrs John Charlesworth. My husband and I live here at the Portland.’

‘Georgiana Gregory,’ Georgiana responded. ‘I’m from the east coast of England. Won’t you sit down?’ She indicated the chair nearest to her.

Mrs Charlesworth sank into the chair and signalled to a bellboy. ‘Your husband, Mrs Gregory? He is presumably on business in New York?’

‘I have no husband, Mrs Charlesworth.’

‘Oh!’ Mrs Charlesworth seemed taken aback but recovered enough to order coffee for them both, which Georgiana declined, explaining that she had just had tea. ‘Then you have a companion with you? I saw—’

‘My maid, or
help
as servants appear to be addressed here.’

‘Oh, don’t take any notice of that silly nonsense.’ Mrs Charlesworth waved a lazy hand in dismissal. ‘It’s only the clerks and domestics who don’t care to be addressed as servants. But
we
still call them that! Or at least the ladies do, I’m not sure about the gentlemen.’

The bellboy brought her coffee and poured it. She took a sip, then asked, ‘So you must be visiting family? Is your home near London? It must have been terrible travelling alone on the ship with all those dreadful religious immigrants?’

‘I live a long way from London. The east coast of England,’ Georgiana repeated and knew her voice had grown sharp. ‘And the Mormons, if indeed that is who you mean, travel on separate ships.’

‘Well, they don’t stay here, thank goodness,’ Mrs Charlesworth continued. ‘They’ll be off on their trek to Utah, I expect. There are thousands of them, you know, and their leader Brigham Young has just been made a Governor!’

‘I know little about them,’ Georgiana replied briskly, ‘except that their faith appears to be genuine.’ She was wondering how she could best make her escape from this woman, when Mrs Charlesworth repeated her question of whether she was visiting family.

‘I am not,’ Georgiana replied. ‘I am intending to make a new life for myself in America.’

Mrs Charlesworth stared at her. ‘But you must have some protection!’ she protested. ‘You won’t realize, coming from a small country, that you will be at the mercy of every racketeer and swindler in town! I will speak to my husband about what must be done.’

‘Please don’t, Mrs Charlesworth,’ Georgiana said with as much self-control as she could muster, though she was seething at the audacity of this woman, whom she had only just met, preparing to organize her life. ‘When these dreadful people of whom you speak hear that I have nothing worth stealing, then they will leave me alone and go on to richer pickings.’

As Georgiana outlined her status, Mrs Charlesworth looked her up and down curiously. ‘So perhaps you are looking for a husband? You cannot possibly survive without one. Not here in New York. So what will you do?’

Georgiana rose to her feet. ‘I am not looking for a husband, Mrs Charlesworth, and I am perfectly capable of surviving without one! As for what I will do with my life, I wouldn’t dream of discussing any ideas I might have with a perfect stranger on my first day in a new country. I wish you good day.’

She swept away from the astonished Mrs Charlesworth and climbed the stairs to her room, her heart beating fast and her cheeks flushed. You’ve made an enemy already, Georgiana, she told herself. That odious woman has probably got a great deal of influence in this town and you’ve just insulted her. She paused outside her door to calm herself, not wanting Kitty to suspect that anything was wrong. Have I made a great mistake? she thought. Have I burned my boats? What will I do?

For the next few days she avoided the hotel lounge and she and Kitty explored the city, which was growing at a tremendous pace. The buildings were higher than she had ever seen in England, some of them five storeys, and many of the hotels were enormous and extremely luxurious. She went into the Astor Hotel for coffee and asked the bellboy how many bedrooms there were. ‘Over three hundred, ma’am,’ he informed her proudly, ‘and seventeen bathrooms! There’s nowhere else so grand, not in New York at any rate.’

Indeed! So I shan’t be staying here, she mused. Though no doubt I would find a rich husband if I did. She earmarked several smaller hotels where, on enquiring their tariffs, she realized she could stay at a cheaper rate than at the Portland. Just a few more days, she determined, and then I’ll move out.

The following afternoon she stepped downstairs into the hotel lounge and found it almost empty but for one gentleman sitting by a window reading a newspaper. She glanced across at the piano. Would it be considered an imposition if I should play, I wonder? But why not? It is there, it is not an ornament. I will.

She walked across, seated herself and ran her fingers across the keys. It had been well played and the sound was mellow. There was no music on the stand but she closed her eyes and played from memory snatches of her favourite pieces. Wagner’s
Flying Dutchman
, Beethoven, and songs from the music hall of which her Aunt Clarissa disapproved, stating emphatically that they were songs from the devil. She wouldn’t allow Georgiana to play them, though she did each time her aunt went out. She played for perhaps fifteen minutes, concentrating and absorbing herself in the music and feeling rather nostalgic. I’m not missing Aunt Clarissa, except in a general way, she thought. Nor Cousin May, though I could perhaps regret Martin Newmarch if I allowed myself, and if he wasn’t now married to the lovely Grace.

No, none of those, but I must admit that I am missing the familiarity of my homeland, the choppy brown waters of the river Humber which if I stood on a stool I could see from my bedroom window. And the sweet smell of new-mown grass after it has been scythed. Those are the things I am missing most of all.

She came to the end of the piece and sat with her hands gently on the keys, and was surprised to hear a ripple of applause. Other guests had come into the lounge, had sat down to listen to her and were now clapping. A gentleman, the one who had been reading his newspaper earlier, was hovering nearby and approached her. He bowed, putting his hand on his chest in a foreign manner, and enquired, ‘Miss Gregory?’

‘Yes.’ She was embarrassed at having brought attention to herself and wondered how he knew her name.

‘Forgive me,’ he apologized, ‘but I took the liberty of enquiring of the desk clerk. I came especially to see you.’

‘Oh?’ She was astonished. ‘Why? How do you know of me?’

‘It is no great mystery.’ The smile he gave her dimpled his plump cheeks. He was a rotund man, perhaps in his early thirties, taller than her with brown hair which flopped over his forehead. ‘Mrs Burrows suggested I call on you when I was next in the Portland.’

Georgiana gave a relieved sigh. ‘Oh. Mrs Burrows! How kind of her.’

‘Permit me to introduce myself.’ He took a card from the pocket of his brightly coloured tartan waistcoat and handed it to her. ‘Wilhelm Dreumel, at your service, Miss Gregory.’

She rose from the piano as he asked, ‘Would you permit me a little time to talk?’ and they crossed to a sofa in the corner of the room. He sat opposite her, unfastening the button of his grey coat.

‘How are you liking the Portland Hotel, Miss Gregory?’

‘It’s very pleasant,’ she said. ‘But I must move soon as it is very expensive and I have only limited capital.’

‘Ah! Perhaps then I can help you, for you must be careful to choose somewhere that is respectable. Pardon my curiosity but do you intend staying in New York?’

‘I’m not sure.’ She hesitated, not wanting to say that her plans were as yet unformed. ‘I have come to find a new life in America, Mr Dreumel, but where that life will be I have not yet decided.’

He nodded sagely and settling back in his chair he crossed his legs and tapped his fingers on the chair arm. ‘Miss Gregory,’ he said after a moment. ‘Mrs Burrows suggested that I introduce myself, because she thought I might be of some assistance to you. She said to me that as you were a young lady who is not looking for a husband, and as I am a man not looking for a wife, then we should get on very well together!’

Other books

Faithfully by Izzy Cullen
I Am Scout by Charles J. Shields
Death's Last Run by Robin Spano
Ascendant by Craig Alanson
Protecting Summer by Susan Stoker
The Ghost of Cutler Creek by Cynthia DeFelice
Lunch by Karen Moline