Masquerade (45 page)

“Is Fitz all right?” He looked genuinely concerned.

“Fitz is fine. It has to do with … well … with the Tremaines.”

His eyebrow lifted and he cleared his throat. “Your work ethic is sorely lacking, Miss Hathaway.”

She hated to hear the disappointment in his voice. “I can work as well as the best of them.”

“But you choose not to.” He reached out and grabbed the arm of a young boy walking past. “Need a job, boy?”

The boy nodded.

“Good, then come with me and—”

Lottie ran in front of Sven, blocking his path. “You discard me so quickly?”

He cocked his head. “Who discarded who here?”

“I didn’t quit. I only said I can’t work today.” And yet that was a lie. If events occurred at the Tremaines’ as she hoped they would occur …

Sven reached into his pocket and handed the boy a coin. “Sorry, son. No work today.” He turned his attention to Lottie. “So. Will you explain exactly what’s keeping me from your companionship today?”

She smiled. “Companionship?” So he
had
succumbed to her charms, just a little?

He reddened. “Association. Presence here. With me. As I work.”

“How is your wife today, Mr. Svensson?”

His brow furrowed. “
Uff da
, woman.”

She gave him a smile, enjoying that she’d rattled him, even as she felt wistful at leaving him.

Sven shook his head and sighed. “Go on with you, then. I’ll do fine without you. But be back here tomorrow or I’ll hire another.”

“As you say. Good-bye, Sven.”

But as Lottie strode away from him, she faltered. She might not be there tomorrow. Or the next day. Or ever again.

She looked over her shoulder at him, needing one last glance.

He was looking after her. Their eyes met.

He raised a hand to wave. Then he said, “Come back again, Lottie. I need you.”

She turned away and walked faster.

She missed him already.

One more thing to do before Lottie went to the Tremaines’.

As soon as Nanny placed Fitz in Lottie’s arms, his body melted to hers. She cupped his face with a hand.
How can I leave you behind?

“Ah, there,” Nanny said, tracing a curlicue in the air between them. “Just as I thought. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“You always could read me.”

“Someone had to.” She handed Lottie a cloth and pointed to the drool on the baby’s chin. “Out with it.”

Lottie had not planned on telling Nanny her plan.

Or had she?

Had she come to see Fitz and Nanny knowing Nanny would see the conflict teeming inside her?

There was no need for a definitive answer. She gave Fitz her finger to gnaw upon and began. “I discovered that Dora isn’t interested in Conrad Tremaine, but in another man we met on the ship.”

“That’s her prerogative,” Nanny said. “Just because she took your place doesn’t mean love for Conrad would follow. Unless you wish for her to marry without love?”

“No, of course …” Or was that exactly what she’d hoped would happen? With Dora and Conrad married, the deception would be complete. Nonreversible. Was their marriage a guarantee against Lottie changing her mind?

“You’re not talking, Lottie. And my ears are waiting.”

She avoided Nanny’s eyes and gazed at Fitz, who didn’t care what her name was as long as she held him. “Things haven’t worked out as I hoped they would.”

Nanny harrumphed. “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.”

“But things usually work out for me, Nanny. I’ve never had things go wrong—so terribly wrong.”

“ ‘He that trusteth in his own heart is a fool: but whoso walketh wisely, he shall be delivered.’ ”

Was Nanny calling Lottie a fool? Was the title deserved?

She made her defense. “Since there might be a chance to marry Conrad myself, I have to try.”

When Nanny lowered her chin and raised an eyebrow, Lottie knew she was in for a scolding. “You think Conrad Tremaine will marry you just because you walk through the door and smile at him?”

“It will take more than a smile. I know that.”

“Do you?”

Lottie held Fitz under his arms so he could sit upon her lap. “You act as though I’m shallow, as though I have no feeling—”

“You’re planning to march in and marry a man you’ve never met—a man you deceived—as though a husband were a bonnet on a rack to be perused and purchased.”

It did sound cold. Calculating. Fitz squirmed and Lottie settled him upon her shoulder in the way Sven had shown her. The baby’s need made her think of a way to justify her plan. “I’m not thinking of myself. If I married Conrad, we could adopt Fitz. Fitzwilliam Tremaine. That’s a name steeped in power and authority, don’t you think?”

“ ‘Remove far from me vanity and lies: give me neither poverty nor riches.’ ”

“I’m not vain! I’m trying to do the right thing.”

Nanny crossed her arms in front of her ample chest and glared at her. Lottie felt six again, uncertain and scared. “Do you actually believe the Tremaines will take you in after your deception,
and
accept your abandoned foundling as their own?”

Until now, Lottie had not allowed logic to enter into her plan. She didn’t like hearing it now. She needed things to work out in spite of her own actions. “I … I’m just tired of being alone, Nanny. I came to America hoping to find adventure and maybe romance, and all I’ve found is crisis and pain. I just want—”

Nanny sat forward, pointing a finger at her. “What I’m about to tell you may sound odd, especially considering my admonition, but here I’ll say it: you’ve always thought too little of yourself, Lottie-girl. I tried to make you recognize your potential, but obviously I failed. We all want love. I too wanted the love of a man in my time. But that can’t be the end-all of your journey. You don’t need a man for your very being. You’re a grown woman now, a strong, intelligent, vibrant woman. Let love find you and it will be a strong love. But first be strong in yourself, in your faith, and in your God.”

Lottie felt the sting of tears. “But I’m not strong or smart. Someone’s always been there to tell me what to do. I came to think it was a bad thing, a prison of sorts, but now, left on my own …” She sighed. “I’d love for someone to tell me exactly what to do and take care of me again. I’m tired of trying to do it myself.”

“Then stop trying.”

“What?”

“Stop trying to do it yourself. None of us are meant to go the way alone. God got you this far; He’ll get you the rest of the way.”

When was the last time she’d prayed? There’d been a few prayers scattered through the days, but when things continued to worsen and get more complicated, she’d taken hold of the reins of her life without looking to the right or the left. Or within. To Him. And yet … and yet …

Nanny was watching her and, with a shake of her head, moved her chair forward and put a hand on Lottie’s knee. “Father, guide this child toward your will. Keep her safe and help her do the right thing. Amen.”

That was all very nice, but … “What’s the right thing?”

Nanny sighed with exasperation. “Patience is a virtue, Lottie. Be on the lookout. He’ll be showing it to you.”

“Promise?”

She crossed her heart. “Promise.”

Lottie gazed at Fitz a long moment. So … what
should
she do? She closed her eyes, hoping God would place an image in her thoughts, some direction she could follow.

She found nothing but confusion.

“I have to go now,” she said, getting up.

“That quickly? You know where you’re supposed to go?”

“No. But until I do, I’m going to the Tremaines’.”

“Lottie, that’s not the way it works. You shouldn’t rush ahead like a dog pulling on a leash. Remember who’s the Master. Walk beside Him and let Him do the leading.”

Lottie shook her head. “I can’t wait. Time is against me. I have to get to the Tremaines’ and make my claim before something else goes wrong. I have to try.”

“Try and die …”

“What do you mean by that?” she asked.

“Those who barrel ahead run into the fire.”

“I can’t just stand here.”

“You could. Until
He
moves you on.”

She could, if only it were in her nature. Which it wasn’t.

Lottie kissed Fitz and placed him in Nanny’s arms. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Is that a promise?”

Was it?

It had to be.

Lottie crossed her heart. “I promise.”

With her one and only dime, Lottie hired a hack to take her to the Tremaines’ home. It was too far to walk, especially in her corset and suit. She needed to arrive in a presentable fashion.

But as she rehearsed what she would say to them, the hack stopped. “This is it.”

She looked out the window. “No it’s not.” She spotted a street sign. “This is Twentieth. I need Thirty-fourth.”

“Then I need more money.”

“I told you where I was going before we left. You agreed.”

He shrugged. “I agreed to take you there. And I will. It’s your choice. Here, or there. For more money.”

She smiled at him, tipping her head just so. “Please, sir? I don’t wish to arrive disheveled, and the wind today is brisk and—”

He held out his hand for more coins.

This was ridiculous. As she got out, her skirt caught on the door handle, and she heard a ripping sound as her feet met the ground.

“You tore my skirt!”

“
You
tore your skirt. Have a good day.” He drove on without her.

Lottie yelled after him, “Your ploy for more money didn’t work, did it, mister?”

But as he drove out of earshot, and as Lottie found people looking at her, she realized the driver’s ploy had worked fine. For he’d let her off on a street full of fancy stores. He would have no trouble getting another fare.

She, on the other hand …

She examined the tear in her skirt. An entire panel of vertical pleats had pulled away from her waist and was drooping forlornly. She tried tucking it in, but it refused to stay in place. The damage was impossible to conceal. The entire world would see.

A couple strolled by, staring at her. She fiddled with the sagging panel, offering an explanation. “I’ll never hire a hack from that company again.”

The man nodded and the couple walked on.

As did Lottie. What choice did she have?

But as she looked around, her attention was drawn to the shops. Hats, flowers, gloves, dresses, jewelry, parasols …
Oooh, isn’t that brown hat divine?

Then she realized that the shop windows she’d been looking at actually belonged to one store. It was a huge department store taking up the entire block. Looking up, she saw that it was Tremaine’s Dry Goods.

Her heart flipped. Tremaine’s! This was their store. This would be
her
store when she married Conrad.

She had to go inside.

The foyer opened to multiple stories with a sweeping staircase luring shoppers deeper into the store.

I’m home.

Lottie belonged in a store such as this. In London she’d shopped at Harrods with her mother and Aunt Agatha. The clerks had catered to their every need and desire.

A clerk approached from the department to her immediate left. “Good morning, miss. Can I interest you in a bonnet?”

Lottie put a hand to her head. She was bareheaded. No woman of standing went into public without a hat.

“Yes, I believe you can,” she said. After the hack ride she had no money, but the millinery department wasn’t terribly busy. She wanted— no, she needed—to try on a few bonnets, just to remember what it was like. It would be a reawakening, a transition from the working girl Lottie Hathaway to the socialite Charlotte Gleason.

The woman showed her a display of a dozen bonnets, and Lottie felt her heart beat faster. “They are all so beautiful,” she said.

“Indeed.” The clerk put a finger to her lips, assessing Lottie’s attire. “There is a certain bonnet in the window that would be perfect… . Just a moment and I’ll get it.” She moved to a display that stood in front of the large street windows and returned with a hat. “The violets on the crown would accentuate the green cast of your suit.”

She was right. It was a wonderful bonnet. And the violets looked exactly like the ones Francesca and Lea made every day. But Lottie took it off, needing more. “May I try on that one, please? And perhaps that one?”

The clerk was solicitous, and Lottie experienced a surge of joy. She felt like herself again.

Until …

“May I box these up for you, miss? And we have a team of seamstresses on duty who could mend that nasty tear in your skirt.”

The hats had made Lottie forget the tear. As for the bonnets? “I …”

“I would be happy to put them on your family’s … perhaps your husband’s account?”

With intense regret, Lottie removed the bonnet and handed it to the clerk. “Not today.”

The clerk gave her a knowing look, and there was a hint of annoyance in her eyes. “As you wish.”

The old Lottie would have charged them to her father’s account— all of them. The new Lottie …

First things first. First she had to get to the Tremaines’.

She took one last lingering look at the store, exited to the street, and turned north. With difficulty she kept her eyes averted from the temptations of the stores.