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Authors: Holly Bush

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Gloria led Alice to the bed and the two women sat, side by
side. “I have known Albert all of my life, and there is not one drop of cruelty
in his entire body. I grew up just a few doors away from him and his brother,
Jack, and their grandfather. My mother was certain that I would marry one of
them and I had always admired Albert, until I met Stephen, of course. But
Albert treated me as he has treated all women over the years, with courtesy and
respect,” she said, and turned to face Alice. “I have never seen him in such a
state as I did when we arrived and had no idea what had caused it, until you
walked through the door and I saw him look at you.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Alice whispered, and
lowered her eyes.

“I’m sure you do because you look at him the same way.”

Perhaps she did, Alice admitted to herself. She’d only known
the man for a few short days, and yet it felt as if the words between them were
just the beginning of something. As if she would always know his plans, and he
hers, as if what they each dreamed of would be the same, and their cares
united. How did it happen? Why didn’t she feel this way with every man she met?
And how could she deny how her body responded when he looked at her, smiled at
her, touched her, even though the contact was accidental? She was on fire for
him and blushed to think that she’d imagined him with his shirt off and
straining at some manual labor. How could she restrain herself from brushing
back the thick lock of hair that fell over his forehead?

“I don’t understand myself,” Alice confessed, shaking her
head. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

“Of course you haven’t. No one does until they fall in
love,” Gloria said, meeting Alice’s protests with an impish grin. “But the
gentlemen are waiting, and we should be with them to be introduced to the rest
of the guests.” She tapped her finger against her mouth as if working out a
puzzle. “Who were you a personal maid for?”

“Senator Maximillian Shelby’s wife, Mrs. Jolene Crenshaw
Shelby.”

“I did not know her new married name when she moved to
Texas. I only knew her as Jolene Crenshaw.”

Alice nodded. “Were you acquainted with Mrs. Shelby?”

“Not personally, of course, but I’ve seen her at functions
and events when Stephen and I were first married. I would have been terrified
to talk to her! But how gorgeous she is,” Gloria said.

“She is a very beautiful woman who knows just what to say
and how to say it.”

“Then you must mimic what she does when we are with guests
this evening.”

Alice smiled. “I’ve already used that trick when Albert took
me to the Windsor Hotel for a meal.”

“Then you must use it again.
 
Come along, Alice. The men are waiting.”

Alice stood and straightened her skirts and her back.
“Coming, Gloria,” she said with a smile. After all, she had promised her ma
that she would enjoy herself.

Alice soon found herself in the foyer beside Albert. She had
little time to think of her nervousness, as couples had begun to arrive shortly
after she and Gloria had stepped off the last marble step. Albert introduced
her as his special guest to everyone. It was exhilarating to be with such an
interesting and influential group of people, although she was rarely in company
with
any
guests, she thought to
herself, and more likely watching from afar.

But she was included, Albert made sure, even explaining that
she was in Mrs. Shelby’s personal employ until lately and had been gifted an
early retirement from the senator and his wife for exemplary service, and that
she’d decided to come home to Boston and help care for her sickly brother.
Albert made her life sound important, even heroic, and she was able to speak to
each new person with some degree of confidence, employing Mrs. Shelby’s habit
of asking a specific question to a new acquaintance, giving that person reason
to reply with comfort and giving her a chance to know each person a bit past a
mere how-do-you-do.

Albert turned to her as the last guest was led to the dining
rooms by Mr. Higgins. “I know you were nervous, especially as many of my guests
know each other and you knew no one other than me, but I hope you feel more at
ease now. Did I tell you that you look beautiful this evening?”

“Yes you did,” she said with a smile, and raised her brows. “And
all your guests were very kind, especially after hearing your description of me.”

“There was none of it untrue, was there?”

“No, but it wasn’t as though I was her secretary. I was her
maid.”

“I didn’t say you were or weren’t either,” Albert said.
“Give yourself a chance. And give me a chance if you are so inclined. You are
very beautiful, fashionably dressed, and able to speak to people well, and with
kindness and genuine interest. Let our guests deduce anything they’d like.”

Alice looked up at him. “I don’t want to embarrass you.
You’re a very important man.”

Albert took her hands in his and gazed into her eyes. “I am
only as important as you deem me. Your opinion is the only one that seems to
matter to me any longer.”

Alice said nothing, and her eyes filled with tears. She
composed herself quickly.

“I’ve upset you, and it was not my intention,” he said,
stepping away from her and motioning in the direction of the hallway ahead.

Alice was seated to Albert’s left beside an older woman,
Mrs. Farthaway, whose husband Albert spent some time talking business with,
although he never allowed the general conversation to be silenced. But it was
clear to Alice that Mr. Farthaway was an integral part of Albert’s project.
Mrs. Farthaway was a member of a social committee that worked with sick
children and she wondered if Alice would have time to speak to her group
considering she’d been such a part of her brother’s care, and that perhaps
she’d be able to spare two hours a month and attend their regular meetings.

“I’m not sure that I have much to recommend me to your
group, Mrs. Farthaway, although it is an honor that you’ve asked me,” Alice
said.

“Of course you do, dear. We are always on the lookout for
conscientious young women to join us. And you are clearly that. Albert told me
about your service to Senator and Mrs. Shelby during the Texas influenza
outbreak. And anyone who has gained the graces of Jolene Crawford Crenshaw
Shelby must have copious amounts of fortitude, my dear. Now don’t take offense
on your former employers’ behalf,” she said kindly. “But Mrs. Shelby is
undoubtedly formidable.”

Alice smiled. “She is that, Mrs. Farthaway.”

Alice enjoyed the food and wine, and listened to the other
guests converse. These fine and wealthy folks spoke about the same things that
everyone spoke about, family and triumphs and tragedies. Not so very much
different than a conversation between her ma and Mrs. McKinnell. Alice let
herself relax, enjoy the conversation, and especially the unguarded attention
paid to her by Albert. She would be able to tell Ma that she was, indeed, a
princess for the evening.

 
When the night finally
came to an end, Albert waited until all the guests had gone and called for his
carriage.

“I hate to wake one of the staff to serve as your chaperone
while I escort you home,” Albert said.

“That is unnecessary. And I’m sure you’re exhausted. You
don’t have to ride with me. I’m sure your stablemen will keep me safe.”

“I’m sure they would. But I hesitate to let you go. There is
so much I’d like to discuss with you now that everyone else is gone and we can
speak openly.”

Alice nodded. “Please do not wake anyone. I had a wonderful
time this evening, and enjoyed myself more than I thought possible. But I am
very tired, and you are as well.”

Albert opened the door for her and walked her to the waiting
carriage. Two men sat on the driver’s bench and he told them to stay where they
were, that he would hand Miss Porterman in.

“This evening has been a dream come true.” Albert said and leaned
toward her, bringing his face just inches from hers. He touched her cheek
softly with a shaking hand, and she watched as his face, his lips, came closer
and closer to hers. His hand warmed her, and she looked into his eyes, locked
onto hers. “I cannot resist you, Alice Porterman. You are the woman I’ve been
dreaming about.”

Albert’s lips touched hers gently, tentatively, even
reverently, and he let the rough stubble of his beard touch her chin lightly. His
tongue traced the seam of her lips, now parted slightly, and ran its way around
the edge of her mouth. Alice took a deep, shuddering breath. Whatever mysteries
made one man’s kiss repugnant and another’s sensuous she could not explain, but
she did know that her eyes were closed and she was breathing in short, static
breaths, and there was magic and eroticism at the heart of his kiss that had
now turned passionate. Albert slanted his head to kiss her more deeply and move
his tongue in her mouth in a way that made her heart beat rapidly and her
breasts harden against the fabric of her chemise.

He broke the kiss and touched his forehead to hers. “We’d
best say good night before my stablemen jump down to see what is the matter.”

Alice nodded. “Yes.”

“I will call on you soon, Alice.” Albert kissed the backs of
both of her hands and then called up to the driver.

Alice stared at him until she could no longer see his figure
standing on the steps of his home in the glow of the gas lamps. She leaned back
against the cushioned seat. She had much to decide.

 

Chapter Five

 

“What do you mean you won’t come
down to see Mr. Donahue?” her ma asked her the following day.

Alice busied herself putting away her things in her new
bedroom furniture. “I have nothing to say to him, Ma. We had a lovely evening.
I told you that. But I don’t have any interest in him apart from him being a
pleasant man and don’t want to lead him to think otherwise.”

“I don’t believe that. Not for one minute.”

Alice dropped onto her bed and shrugged her shoulders.
“Believe whatever you will. I am not seeing Mr. Donahue again.”

Her ma stood for a few seconds longer and then let out a
string of curse words under her breath. Alice heard the front door close and
imagined Albert walking down the path to his carriage or horse. She would not
go to the window to look at him as he walked away. She would not. She was worried
she would throw open the sash and call out to him to stop and that she loved
him. Where had that word come from? Love? But it was the only explanation for
the way her insides felt as if her heart were crumbling.

 

* * *

 

“But what do you mean, Mrs.
Porterman?” Albert asked. “She didn’t seem upset last night, in fact, I was
certain that she enjoyed herself thoroughly, even aside from the fact that she
told me so herself.”

Maeve Porterman shook her head. “I think she had a lovely
evening, Mr. Donahue. But she says this morning that she doesn’t want to see
you. I don’t have an answer for you, but she’s my girl, a good one at that, and
I won’t take sides against her.”

“Of course you won’t,” Albert said, and tipped his hat as
the front door of the Porterman home closed slowly. He stood there thinking, or
not thinking, for some minutes and finally turned to his carriage driver to
dismiss him. He would walk home and think and plan when he would call on her
again.

Albert spent the week recalling and reliving everything that
had happened between them and could not for his life determine what had made
her dismiss him so permanently without even speaking to him personally. He was
hurt, which was an emotion he’d rarely had to deal with, and puzzled as well.

 

* * *

 

Alice was at the kitchen table
encouraging Jimmy as he read from a primer when she heard a knock at the
kitchen door. Her mother hurried there and stepped outside, even with the
weather being bitter and her shawl still hanging on the hook beside the door.
Alice opened the door to hand her her wrap and saw she was talking to her da.

“Oh,” Alice said. “Excuse me. Here is your wrap, Ma. It is
cold out here.”

“Wait, Alice. I’m going to ask your da to come in out of the
cold and see Jimmy before he’s off to work. But perhaps you’d rather him wait
until a time when you are gone.”

Alice looked at the both of them, now staring at her with
trepidation. It occurred to her that maybe her ma and da had been seeing each
other more, letting him get to know Jimmy, but with her living there now were
unable to continue their visits. “Come in then. It is too cold to be standing
on the stoop.”

Maeve smiled, not looking at Alice, and took her husband’s
arm. “Come in and visit with Jimmy. I’ve made a thick beef stew that you should
eat some of before going to your work.”

Alice was inclined to go up the steps to her room and read a
book she’d borrowed, but she leaned against the doorjamb to the steps instead.
Her da walked into the kitchen slowly, twirling his hat, and risking a look to
her before dropping his eyes to his son’s face.

“And what are you reading there, son? Learning your letters,
are you?” he said to Jimmy’s nod. “’Tis a good thing. Then you won’t be
shoveling coal like your poor dumb da!” he said with a laugh.

Jimmy laughed, too, and Alice no longer wondered why he
loved going next door to the McKinnells’ and spending time with the McKinnell
boys and their father. He had no one but she and her mother, who babied him
even though he’d grown a bit stronger in the recent weeks, and who had done so
ever since the first sign that he was not healthy.

“You are shoveling coal?” Alice asked him, and looked at his
slight frame, although he looked better than he had weeks ago when he’d visited
Jimmy when he and her ma lived at the church.

He nodded. “’Tis enough to cover my room at the boardinghouse
but not my fare, but your mother and you are good enough to feed me here and
there. It’s enough until I can get something better.”

“Don’t forget, Gerald, tomorrow we will move Jimmy’s bed and
you’ve promised to help Bert carry it up,” her ma said.

“Jimmy’s going upstairs?” Alice asked.

“You go upstairs to sleep, Alice,” her brother replied. “And
there is a room for me there. But I was too heavy to carry up when I was sick,
but I am stronger now and will go up one step at a time if I must.”

Alice patted his back and handed him water when he began to
cough.

“He’s been asking to move his things upstairs for months
now,” her ma said, and kissed her son’s head. “Tomorrow is the day.”

“This stew is heavenly, Maeve. You’ve always been the best
cook in the neighborhood,” Gerald said between the small bites he took.

“There is pie, too, though the apples in the cellar are
nearly gone. We may as well eat them before they all go to rot,” she said, smiling
at her husband. Maeve looked up at Alice. “I forgot to tell you that Mr. Donahue
was here again this morning to see you and I turned him away again on your
behalf. That’s four times this week. He looks as if he’s aged ten years.”

“A gentleman caller?” her da asked. “What has he done that
has made you refuse to see him, Alice?”

Alice’s lip trembled as she looked at her da, who was now
looking up sweetly at her ma, and at Jimmy. They were all waiting for her reply,
but she could not give one. She was angry that her heart was broken and of her
own making, with no sense as to how to move past the hurt she felt. And he, her
da, making light of it!

“He has done nothing to shame himself, or cause me concern!”
she shouted angrily. “He is always the perfect gentleman, something you would
know nothing about!”

“Alice!” her ma chided.

Gerald Porterman tilted his head and stared up at her, at
her clenched fists and red face. “Then why won’t you see him, Alice? If he is
such a perfect gent.”

Alice burst into tears and ran from the kitchen to the
safety of her room. She slid the latch on her door and lay across her bed to
have a long cry.

 

* * *

 

The following morning, Alice heard
furniture legs scrapping against wood and her ma’s and Mrs. McKinnell’s
laughter. She opened her bedroom door to see Bert McKinnell and her da pushing
and pulling the feather-stuffed mattress from Jimmy’s bed up the narrow steps.

“Which way, Alice?” Mr. McKinnell asked.

Alice hurried ahead to the small room and opened the door.
“Prop it there against the dresser until you’ve brought the frame up.”

Her da was huffing each breath but smiled at her as he went
by. “Good morning, Alice.”

She nodded. “Good morning.”

The men returned with the planks of wood that made the
bedframe and Ma and Mrs. McKinnell followed, carrying sheets and pillows. Her
mother stopped in front of her and kissed her cheek.

“You’ve got to be half starved seeing how you skipped the
evening meal last night. There’s milk on the stoop and fresh bread on the table,
and the room’s still nice and warm from me baking.”

Jimmy came up the steps, one at a time, stopping to rest and
hold the railing. “I will do this . . . every . . . day, Alice. I will be . . .
stronger.”

“Yes, you will, Jimmy. Ma and I are so proud of you,” she
said.

“Get in here, boy,” Mrs. McKinnell called to him. “You must
help your ma put away your things.”

Jimmy was smiling and edging along with small steps toward
his room. Maeve was wringing her hands.

“I’ll bring your meals to you until you’re stronger,” she
said to her son.

Jimmy shook his head and coughed a little. “No, Ma.”

“But it’s so hard . . .”

Gerald interrupted. “Let the boy try on his own, Maeve.”

Alice watched as her ma and da stood quietly talking while
Jimmy went into his new bedroom with Mrs. McKinnell. There was something
different about her ma, a happiness in her eyes that Alice did not believe
she’d ever seen before, and her da looked back at her with desperation and
longing. When the moving was done and Jimmy was lying down for a nap, Alice
found her mother in the kitchen washing dishes. Maeve was humming a tune and
stepping to its rhythm. Alice sat down at the table.

“Oh, Alice,” Maeve said. “I didn’t hear you come in. I
thought you were going to the butcher’s.”

“I’m going to the Lending Library first, and then to the
butcher’s,” she replied.

“Ah, that’s fine, dear.”

“Ma? Would you like to have Da live here with us?”

Maeve turned with a start, hurriedly drying her hands on her
apron. “Did you ask me if I’d like your da to live here?”

“Yes. That is what I asked. It seems silly to send him to
the boardinghouse across town, and then to his work, and then here again to see
Jimmy and have a meal, does it not?”

Maeve dropped down into a chair and wiped her eyes on her
apron. She clutched Alice’s hands. “Yes. Yes, I would like to spend whatever
time he has remaining together as a family. He done wasted all those years on
liquor and he knows it, and I put you and Jimmy above what my heart wanted and
threw him out all those years ago. But it would make me very happy to live
together with him. I love him, you see, through the good and the bad, and now
that he’s trying, really trying to be some kind of father to Jimmy, I want to
give him the chance. But I’d never, ever do something you were against. You and
Jimmy have always come first. You and your brother always will.”

“I know,” Alice said. “It would be good for Jimmy. Tell Da
tonight when he comes by.”

Maeve squeezed her hands and looked into her eyes. “Why
don’t you tell him, love? It would mean the world to him.”

 

* * *

 

“I wish you would let me talk to her,”
Albert said to Mrs. Porterman, running a hand through his hair as he stood at
the doorway of the Porterman home.

“She’s not here, and no, I won’t tell you where she’s gone,”
Maeve said. “I’m sorry.”

“Will you tell her I was here?”

She nodded. “I do every time.”

Albert walked away from the door, toward the street and to
what he did not know. For weeks, more than a month, he’d been trying to puzzle
out what could have brought on this sudden change of heart. Their kiss played
over and over in his head like a piano repeating the same song time and again,
and woke him in the middle of the night, his body aching for her. For her soft,
wide lips, trembling against his, her long-lashed eyes, and the smooth skin of
her neck he touched as he held her face. Although she’d been nervous and
feeling out of her element, Alice had conversed with his guests as if she’d
been born to be by his side. And he had not been mistaken when she had looked
at him and smiled, as he’d always been confident in his ability to judge
others’ intent and purpose. But he was no longer.

“Are you the gent coming ’round to see Alice?”

Albert looked up at a gaunt-faced man carrying a small empty
bucket with a red-checkered napkin inside. He looked haggard and tired, but his
hair was cut neatly, even for being covered in coal dust. His face and hands
were clean, evidently from a recent scrubbing. He looked familiar in an odd way,
and Albert realized the brother, the one coughing in the pull cart the day
Nyturn turned their house inside out, was a replica, neither boy nor man
looking particularly healthy or robust.

“Yes, I am,” he said. “Alice told me you don’t live here
anymore.”

“I don’t. Her ma threw me out, right and fair, a decade or
more ago. But Maeve has been cooking for me since I’ve been ill with the
groceries my Alice buys.”

Albert stuck his hands in his pockets and contemplated the
man now staring at him. Perhaps he had some clues to Alice’s heart for him. He
was staring at Albert, as if trying to make out his intentions, and even with
the man’s frankness about his own weaknesses, he was still fierce looking with
all that he said. Perhaps honesty in return was in order.

“I love her. It’s the only explanation that makes any sense
for how I feel. I would have preferred to say those words to her first, but she
won’t speak to me and I don’t know why. I can’t sleep at night for dreaming of
her, and I spend the day thinking about what she is doing and who she is
talking to and why it isn’t me.”

“Then you should come here every day and tell her. I should
have told my Maeve and quit the bottle years ago. I’ll be paying the Grim
Reaper for my errors before my time.”

“What if she’ll never speak to me?”

“Will that change how you feel? Do you love my girl ’cause
there’s something for you in return? Or do you love her because she is the only
thing in this world to make sense to you, and will love her till you die,
whether you share a life with her or never see her again on this earth?”

Albert stared at him solemnly. “I will love her forever, and
I’m not sure how or why I’m certain of that, only that I am.”

The man nodded and walked past him to the front door. “Good
luck to you then,” he said.

 

* * *

 

Her ma and da listened to Jimmy read
a story from the book Alice had brought him from the Lending Library. Maeve
smiled at Gerald, nodding at Jimmy with pride, and he laid his hand over his
wife’s where it lay on the kitchen table. They sat there hand in hand listening
to the story of Miss Mary and her dog. They both clapped when he was done
reading, and so did Alice from where she stood in the doorway.

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