In Good Company (33 page)

“I’m happy.”

“You’re conflicted, not happy, and I take full responsibility for that confliction.” Fletcher smiled. “I can only thank the good Lord above for finally allowing your mother and me insight into how wrong we’ve been.”

“
God
showed you the errors of your ways?”

“In a very subtle, yet effective manner.” Fletcher’s smile widened. “Your mother and I were given the supreme pleasure of staying with this delightful family in France, and because of that stay, we were granted a new view of life.” He crossed one ankle over the other. “We met Lord and Lady Davenport at a luncheon and quickly became friends with them. When they invited us to join them at their country home, we accepted, and that’s what led to our decisive conclusion about our parenting abilities, or lack thereof.”

“Lord and Lady Davenport told you that you and Mother were horrible parents?”

“Of course not, but you see, they were parents to five children, and . . . all of those children went to the local school and even ate dinner every night with their parents. They were included in all conversations, shown vast amounts of affection, whether it be a kiss from their parents on the forehead or skipping along on a walk as they held onto Lord or Lady Davenport’s hand. But I think the greatest blessing these children were receiving was seeing how their mother and father held a strong belief in God. Lord Davenport was very comfortable talking about his
faith, something that I readily admit made your mother and I very
uncomfortable
at first.”

“We’ve always gone to church.”

“Sitting in a pew, listening to words but not really listening to words, does not make one a person of faith. Your mother and I, even though we were raised in the church, always found talk of God to be rather . . . odd, as did most of our friends. What we discovered with Lord and Lady Davenport, though, was that we’d been wrong. Once we truly opened our hearts, things began to change for us. Our marriage grew stronger, which has been lovely since neither one of us married for love all those years ago, and then . . . Dorothy began having those dreams about you, dreams that finally sent us home.”

Fletcher nodded. “I’ve come to believe that those dreams were God’s way of showing us that you, even though you’re grown, might still need us.”

“I don’t know how anyone can help me right now.”

“I think what your father is trying to say, Everett, is that God can help you, but you’re going to have to ask Him for assistance, and you’re going to have to trust Him.”

Looking around, Everett found Reverend Gilmore walking up behind him, holding Thaddeus’s hand.

“I’m supposed to give the girls a detailed report about this place,” Thaddeus said as he slipped out of Reverend Gilmore’s hold and marched his way over to Everett’s side. “But there’s nothing really to report, and Miss Millie’s going to be disappointed when I tell her I didn’t find many books, even though you told her that from the very beginning.”

Rising to his feet, Everett tucked the newspaper that was concealing
Pride and Prejudice
firmly under his arm before he took Thaddeus’s hand in his own. “How about if I give you a quick tour and then we will rejoin
the girls
as you called them.
But we need to do it quickly, before those girls get themselves into any mischief.”

“They’re across the street, sitting on a bench,” Thaddeus said. “Miss Lucetta didn’t like the way some of the gentlemen were looking at them from that second-floor balcony, so she said she was going to put some distance between them before she got an urge to hit someone.”

“How about if I promise to bring you back here another day for a tour?” Without giving Thaddeus time to answer, Everett hustled the little boy out of the room, down the hallway, and out on the porch—a porch that just happened to be filled with gentlemen, all of whom were staring rather intently across the street.

“Oh . . . dear,” Reverend Gilmore mumbled from behind Everett. “I should not have left the ladies alone.”

“But Miss Millie insisted,” Thaddeus said. “And we wouldn’t want to disappoint Miss Millie, would we?”

Reverend Gilmore smiled. “She is difficult to resist.”

“Everett, did you see?” a gentleman Everett was casually acquainted with by the name of Mr. Lewis asked as he nodded toward the street. “That’s Miss Lucetta Plum over there.”

Bending down to pick Thaddeus up, Everett gave him the newspaper and book to hold before shouldering his way through the crowd, anger beginning to stir when some of the comments the gentlemen were making caught his attention.

“She’s a looker, she is.”

“Haughty, though, especially for an actress.”

“I heard she gets ten dozen roses on a slow night, more on a busy one.”

“It’s said she’s particular about who she keeps company with, which is rich for a woman in her profession.”

Stepping through the crowd, not caring about the gentlemen he pushed out of his way and the feet he trampled, Everett
made it to the front of the porch, walked down the steps, and strode across the street. Handing Thaddeus to Millie, whose eyes were rather wide, no doubt that circumstance brought about because he was literally shaking with anger, he turned and stalked across the street again.

“Miss Lucetta Plum is a very good friend of mine, and I dare any of you to say one more disparaging thing about her in my presence,” he said between gritted teeth.

“Looking for another brawl are you, Everett?” someone shouted.

“Oddly enough, I do believe I am.” With that, Everett balled his hand into a fist and leapt up to the porch.

“You have got to stop doing this.” Millie slapped a cold piece of meat over Everett’s face, and slapped it none too gently, at that, as he sat in a chair in Abigail’s kitchen.

“I was not going to stand by and let them say horrible things about Lucetta.”

“Which was very noble of you,” Lucetta said as she glided into Abigail’s kitchen and moved to stand in front of him. “But really, Everett, the things those gentlemen were saying were things I’ve heard a million times before, and believe me, I’ve heard worse.”

“It doesn’t matter if you’ve heard them before, Lucetta.” Everett readjusted the meat on his face. “Those gentlemen were being inappropriate, and don’t even get me started on the fact they were practically shouting those insults your way as the children were within listening distance.”

“The children didn’t understand what they were saying,” Lucetta argued. “You should have ignored the insults to me.”

“You’re a kind, compassionate, and far-too-sensible lady for
your own good, Lucetta. I would have been no gentleman at all if I hadn’t fought for your good name.”

Everett watched out of the eye that wasn’t covered in meat as Lucetta’s eyes turned suspiciously bright before she blinked rapidly, sniffed just once, and patted his arm. “You’re a good man, Everett. I don’t care what anyone else says.”

A laugh caught him by surprise even as his father let out what sounded remarkably like a snort from where he was sitting on the other side of the table, a piece of meat slapped over half his face as well.

“I must say I do agree with everything my son is saying, Lucetta,” Fletcher began. “Those men were not behaving as gentlemen should behave. I, for one, will be discontinuing my membership at the Reading Room and plan to never step foot in it again.”

“Has everyone lost their minds?” Millie asked as she looked up from blotting Reverend Gilmore’s puffy lip with a wet towel. “The Mulberry family has worked hard over the years, building their real-estate empire and their position within society, but today’s event has put that position in dire jeopardy.”

“The Mulberry family, I’m sorry to say, has not always behaved in an upstanding fashion, Millie,” Everett said as he held her gaze. “We’ve made more money than we can ever spend, but ever since you questioned me a few weeks ago about some of our real-estate investments, I’ve been questioning the integrity we’ve used to amass our fortune.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying,” Millie said slowly.

“We own land in Five Points, Millie,” Everett bit out. “Land that tenement houses sit on, and even though we’re not slumlords, well . . . we collect rent from those slumlords, which doesn’t make us any better than them.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I finally understand what
you
were trying to tell me a few weeks ago. That even though I’ve proclaimed the fact that the money I collect on rents is in no way comparable to what slumlords do, that’s not true.” He nodded to his father. “When you handed over the family investments to me, you gave me leave to manage them to the best of my abilities. I’m now hoping that you will be in full agreement with me when I tell you that I no longer find it acceptable to take money from the poor. That’s why I’d like to buy up the tenement buildings that are built on land we own, and then go about the business of improving those buildings, hopefully improving the circumstances of the people who are unfortunate enough to live there.”

“Good heavens, those men really did hit your head hard, didn’t they?” Millie pressed the wet cloth into Reverend Gilmore’s hand before heading Everett’s way. Reaching out, she plucked the meat off his face and peered into his eyes. “Your pupils seem to be working all right, but . . . perhaps we should summon the physician to make certain you haven’t been grievously injured.”

“My wits aren’t addled.”

“I imagine that’ll change once Caroline hears about your latest foray—which means
venture
—into brawling.”

Everett simply stared at Millie for a long moment before he laughed.

“There’s nothing funny about this, Everett. Caroline is determined to pull off the ball of the summer season tonight, and she’ll be hard-pressed to do that if everyone at the ball spends their time discussing your recent activities.”

“She probably won’t even notice the new bruises I incurred today.”

“Do you think she’s not going to notice that your father is
sporting bruises as well, and Reverend Gilmore’s lip is twice its normal size?”

“I wasn’t planning on attending the ball, dear,” Reverend Gilmore said. “And I was only punched because one young gentleman got a little too enthusiastic when the mayhem began.”

Fletcher smiled but then winced as if smiling caused him pain. “That certainly did put an end to everything rather quickly, once everyone realized an elderly gentleman—and a man of the cloth, at that—had been pulled into the fray.”

Reverend Gilmore suddenly looked a little smug. “I’m sure the local churches will see an increase in their attendance, especially since I just couldn’t seem to resist suggesting all those gentlemen repent and make reparations for speaking such vile things about my lovely Lucetta.”

Everett grinned. “That was the best part of the whole brawl.”

Reverend Gilmore returned the grin. “I do still have my uses, son, but . . .” He rose slowly to his feet and sighed. “I think I’ll go have a nice lie down. As Fletcher so kindly pointed out, I am an elderly gentleman, and brawls can be rather taxing on us, even though, truth be told, I’ve never been in the midst of one before today.”

Everyone watched as Reverend Gilmore left the room, and then Millie turned to him again. “Caroline’s going to be livid with you—and with me, as well, since it’s my fault in the first place. I shouldn’t have let my curiosity get the better of me, but I just wanted to see what that Reading Room was all about.”

“Don’t be silly,” Lucetta said. “Women of any station in life should not have to be concerned about walking past a gentlemen’s club. The word
gentlemen
implies real gentlemen will be in attendance, but honestly, I do think the Reading Room really should look into making their qualifications for membership a little more difficult.”

Abigail suddenly breezed into the room, looking a little harried but smiling at everyone once she plopped herself down into the nearest chair. “The children have been bathed and are resting in one of the guest rooms upstairs. The girls are waiting for you, Lucetta, to help them with their hair. I’ve had the dresses we fetched from Seaview laid out on their beds, and do make certain to use the right ribbon with the right dress. I want the girls to look perfect tonight.”

“You still believe it’s a good idea to take the children to the ball?” Millie asked.

“But of course. We’ll attend the ball as planned, a united front, if you will.”

Millie’s eyes widened in clear horror. “I’m not going to the ball.”

“Of course you are,” Everett argued before Abigail had the chance. “My mother is counting on you being there, and I’d look at it as a great privilege if you’d honor me with a dance.”

“I don’t know how to dance. And I never intended on
attending
the ball. I thought I was simply supposed to escort the children, and then stay with them as they peeked through a banister. Although . . . I do think that window off the side terrace might be a better choice, given that it’s far away from where any guests will be.”

Everett narrowed his eyes as much as he could, which wasn’t much, since they’d taken to swelling. “I’m not comfortable with the idea of you hiding in the shadows, Millie. You’ve become an integral part of my family, and as such, I’d like you at the ball.”