by Jane Steen
“Yes, but don’t forget I escaped from the Poor Farm, baby and all.”
“Only because you had me to help you.” Martin touched my gloved hand with the side of his. “Of course, it’s highly possible that Thea will send word to her friends and arrange to abscond.”
“Which is why Teddy has to see sense about letting her return to Chicago. He can’t keep her locked up, and if she does escape—well, won’t she go somewhere nobody can find her? That’s what I’d do if my brother were trying to keep me away from my friends.”
“It’s harder than you imagine to just run away from everyone and everything you know.” Martin raised a hand to return the greeting of an acquaintance who had twirled his cane in the air and shouted from the sidewalk. “You went back to the very people who might send you away again, didn’t you? Because you couldn’t imagine where else you could go.”
“I returned to you,” I said smugly. “I knew you’d protect me. I had no better friend, and that hasn’t changed.”
“That’s as may be, my darling, but she’ll also know I will get the Pinkertons looking for her if she disappears.” Martin settled himself more firmly into his seat, crossing his arms. “For her own safety, of course. If I were Miss Thea, I’d wait out the months till I’m eighteen before trying anything.”
“Would you not search for her if she were eighteen?” I asked, surprised.
“Of course I would, because you’d insist on it. But it’ll be harder for Teddy to drag her back to Wisconsin once he’s a minor and she’s not, and I don’t imagine she’s missed that point.”
42
A man's choice
Two days later, we received a note from Teddy informing us he had returned. He would be happy to come to Calumet Avenue; but if we wanted to speak to him straightaway, he would welcome us at his place of employment. We set off within the hour.
We headed west under a crystalline blue sky, conversing idly as Capell guided the landau through the thronged streets. We slowed as we rounded Union Park and then picked up speed as we left the crowds behind.
The buildings thinned out around us as we reached the limit of the horsecar’s western circuit, and the shop signs were less often in English. The shrieks of steam whistles close or distant marked Chicago’s many railroad lines. We had to wait for a few minutes to let a clanking, noisome train pass before we turned toward the area where the tracks intersected.
We found Teddy in the small hut where he kept the records for the stable yard. His eyes were wary as he rose to greet us, but his handshake was welcoming. He still affected the dark, plain suit of a man who cared nothing for fashion, but his appearance contrasted sharply with the youth who had arrived in Chicago wearing clothes that were rusty-looking and frayed at the edges. He looked, if not exactly prosperous, eminently respectable, and in his workplace carried himself with an air of authority that gave the impression of a much older man.
“It does me good to see you looking so well, Mrs. Rutherford.” He held my hand for a moment after shaking it. “Lake Forest is living up to its reputation for a healthy climate.” He hesitated. “Thea is also in a beautiful, healthful spot. Lakes and rivers and low green hills; no ague, no bad air. I’ve truly tried to do my best for her.” His look was beseeching. “With your money and all, I realize you could make trouble for me. Perhaps you might even force me to bring Thea back. I sure hope you won’t.”
“Don’t imagine it hasn’t crossed our minds.” I gave his hand a squeeze before letting go. “Teddy, I’ll say straight out that I think you’re wrong to do this. In my opinion, forcing Thea into a life she doesn’t want will just make things worse. If I’d known beforehand what you’d do, I expect I’d have done something drastic to prevent it. But I vowed I’d be a friend to both of Catherine’s children. It’s been borne in upon me that this is one of those times when I should step back and wait.”
I watched the relief spread over the young man’s countenance and continued before he became effusive; I didn’t want him to be under any illusions about my feelings. “But in return, may I ask where these Galloway people are? I promise I won’t try to bring Thea back,” I said quickly as Teddy’s expression changed. “But I’d like to write to her. I’d like her to know we haven’t deserted her, and that I for one don’t believe she was involved in the burglary.”
“You for one?” Teddy looked hard at me and then at Martin.
“Call me a cynic.” Martin adjusted his cuffs as he watched realization dawn on Teddy’s face. “I’m not as sure as Nell is. We’ve agreed to disagree because neither of has proof.”
“Just a strong suspicion.” Teddy remembered where we were and brought his own chair round to my side of the small desk where he worked so I would have somewhere to sit. “A suspicion like the police captain said he had—he called it an instinct. He said he hoped it would be possible to keep Thea away from what he called valuable information.”
Martin and I looked at one another, and I saw the same idea taking shape in his mind as I had in mine. “She might have been working as a spy,” I said in answer to Martin’s unspoken thought and then turned to Teddy. “The department stores in this town all spy on one another. I’ll tell you about my own short career as a spy sometime.”
“It was all in a very good cause.” Martin laughed at Teddy’s shocked expression but then sobered. “You do realize, Teddy, that you and I could be wrong and Nell right? Your sister might be entirely innocent of any connection with the robbery.” He sighed. “And yet . . . you’ve spared me the painful choice between firing her for misconduct or condoning her being out at all hours. I saw her that night, you know. I should have summoned her to my office first thing in the morning, but I had something else on my mind.” He looked at me for an instant but continued. “She’d have put me in a difficult position all right. I’ve more or less concluded that I’d have fired her, although I’d have tried to do it in such a way that she’d be able to find a job in another store.”
And if Martin hadn’t been at the Grand Pacific that night, I wondered, would Thea have continued to visit the Jewel Box Theater behind the backs of all who had her best interests at heart?
“I’m heartily sick of Thea Lombardi.” I stared at Capell’s back as he spoke to the horses, aware of the landau’s dip-and-sway motion as he negotiated his way over the potholes in the yard but not really registering the external world. “I’m almost glad Teddy begged me to wait six weeks till I write her.”
“Amen.” Martin looked smug. “I’ve been waiting an eternity to hear you say that. I’ll count it as a victory for common sense, even though I’m sure that within two days you’ll be imagining yourself guilty again over not making life perfect for Catherine Lombardi’s daughter. And yet you gave her every chance for that perfect life. That child could be a society belle by now, wearing your best designs, living in luxury in the wealthiest part of Chicago instead of stuck out in the middle of nowhere. I’ll need a map of Wisconsin to see where Jefferson actually is.” He frowned. “More to the point, she might have been a member of our family.”
“It was what you said about being almost obliged to fire Thea that convinced me,” I confessed. “It made me wonder just how long Thea would have let us imagine she was sitting innocently in Mrs. Batham’s parlor every evening while leading quite a different life. Unless I can believe this was the one and only time she had been out at night—and somehow I don’t.” I ran a fingernail along the smooth silk of my skirt. “Really, I should go ask Mrs. Batham to assure me Thea wasn’t going out, but I’m afraid to do it for fear that she’ll tell me Thea claimed to be going to temperance meetings or something ridiculous like that every evening for the last six months.”
Martin, whose grin had been growing wider as I spoke, crowed softly, tipping his head back so that his nose pointed skyward. “Oh, inestimable joy.” He opened his eyes to look at me. “I shouldn’t sound quite so triumphant, but that wretched girl has cast a shadow over almost our entire marriage.”
I felt for his hand. “It took a tragedy to bring me to my senses, didn’t it? I barely thought of Thea while I was in Lake Forest; I’m not even sure I wrote her. She didn’t write me.” I shook my head. “I mean nothing to her.”
We continued in silence until we reached the river.
“Only . . .” I began, and Martin groaned.
“No, I won’t change my mind.” I squeezed his hand. “It’s just what you said—that Thea could have lived in luxury. So might I if I’d simply named Jack as Sarah’s father. I would have been spared the Poor Farm and Kansas. I might have grown to love my jeweled cage.” I smiled at my husband. “After all, marriage to you is turning out all right. But with Jack, I wouldn’t be free. I wouldn’t be me. There’s a part of me that understands Thea completely, realizes why she’s been so difficult—has bitten our outstretched hands so often. It’s a yearning to be who we really are, in my opinion. To take the troublesome road rather than the easy one because, on the rocky path, we find our true selves. Do I sound like I’m talking nonsense?”
“No.” Martin shifted a little so he was under the shade of my parasol. “I’d much rather have taken the hard road to Shiloh and Gettysburg and died in the attempt than stay at home in Victory during the war. And it wasn’t just that home meant Father and all he did to us. I’d have felt the same if it had just been Mother begging me to stay for her sake. Perhaps some of us possess an ingrained desire to put ourselves to the test.”
“But you took the difficult road by staying home. You made your choice out of love, which makes you better than me. I made my choice because I didn’t love Jack. Marrying him would have been far harder for me than the Poor Farm and all that’s happened since.” I frowned, perplexed. “We’d have been tested either way.”
I looked up at Martin’s face, which was perspiring a little under the brim of his black hat. “I can’t work it all out,” I confessed. “I’ll resort to doing what I always do, which is to concentrate on the matters directly in front of me.”
“To borrow your metaphor, perhaps all paths are rocky.” Martin shrugged. “Maybe you and I are just not destined for a quiet life. Or perhaps we all need to walk a rocky road until we’ve learned a few lessons along the way. But as you say, we can only see our way forward one step at a time—and in this moment, I’m happy, my dear, that you’re giving us a chance for some respite from Miss Thea Lombardi.”
We traveled an entire block before I spoke again.
“What will I do if she begs me to come fetch her?” I asked. “When I do eventually write, that is.”
“What do you think you’d do?” Martin’s eyes were shaded by the brim of his hat, but I was aware they were fixed on me.
“I won’t go against Teddy anymore.” I had reached a firm resolution. “I’ve been favoring one of Catherine’s children over the other, and it’s time I stopped—however unfair I find it that he should be able to take her away from the life she wants. He loves her and will do what he considers best, even if his choices may differ from mine.”
The next day I had a visit from Victor Canavan. During my absence from Chicago, he had worked with another of our couturières and appeared satisfied with that arrangement, but when I received a note that he was in the store and asking for me, I picked up my sketching materials and notebook before making my way to the first-floor meeting room.
“I am delighted to see you in good health, Mrs. Rutherford.” The theater owner bowed over my hand in his slightly quaint fashion and pulled out a chair for me. He seated himself, his eyes on my face but clearly waiting for me to speak. It struck me how controlled he was, even when not on the stage—but I supposed it was his training as an actor that enabled him to suppress any temptation to fill a silence with empty speech.
“I’m quite recovered, thank you.” I set out my papers and pencils in front of me. “I’m sorry I was unable to fulfill the commission we had started to work on. I was in poor health for much of the spring and summer.”
“I was grieved to hear it. But the charming French lady took care of me very well—quite a character, isn’t she? She introduced me to your Miss Filbey and made some excellent suggestions.” He raised his thick, expressive eyebrows. “In fact—I must be honest with you—I liked the arrangement so much I would prefer to continue it. To be brutally frank, Mrs. Rutherford, your ideas were so marvelous they had a tendency to outshine the performance. I am used to ladies coming to me with adoration in their eyes at the end of the evening, not with a gleam of acquisitiveness and questions about fabrics and trimmings.”
His smile was irresistible, and I joined in his laughter. “Perhaps I tried too hard,” I said. “I’ll admit we’ve gained quite a few customers from the Jewel Box. Women come to the store with your playbill in their hands, folded to show our advertisement. I’m glad you’ve chosen to continue with Rutherford’s.”
“The quality is excellent. So you see, I wished to tell you about the new arrangement in person before approaching Miss Filbey for some fresh designs. It would be impolite to do otherwise—especially as my desire is for a magnificent pair of ball gowns for Miss Dardenne and Miss Keogh, and I’m sure you would have enjoyed the commission.”
“I would.” I shrugged, smiling. “But we have several excellent couturières, and I’m not interested in getting all the glory. We could put my name on everything and allow the other ladies to contribute without taking any of the credit, but that tends to result in the really good couturières leaving to found their own enterprises sooner rather than later.”
“Sensible.” He paused, leaning back a little in his chair. “I also came here to ask for news of Miss Lombardi—if you are able to give it to me. Again, I thought a direct approach best. I was very alarmed when she disappeared. I went to her boardinghouse and learned that her brother had arranged for all her belongings to be collected and sent to a far-off destination. Her landlady did not reveal that destination, and I did not ask her.”
“I can’t tell you either,” I said. “Teddy told me in confidence. Do you understand why he deemed it necessary to remove her from Chicago? I should imagine the police made their suspicions clear to you.” The direct approach was indeed best, I reflected, even if the result was the loss of Mr. Canavan’s custom. Not that I believed he let personal matters interfere with good business.
Canavan waved a hand, closing his eyes briefly. “Oh, endless questions—poor Miss Dardenne was badly rewarded for her kindness in taking Miss Lombardi to the Grand Pacific. But we actors are accustomed to so-called respectable people attaching their lurid imaginings to us. It’s the danger inherent in a profession where we might play a prince one day and a pander the next. The bourgeois find it hard to see how we can appear to be someone and not actually be that someone. I’m quite tempted to write a play in which I appear as a notorious jewel thief. Wouldn’t that rub their noses in it?”
I smiled, although I didn’t find his remark particularly amusing. It was our store they’d tried to rob, after all. “I understand from Mr. Lombardi that his sister is well,” I said. “Beyond that, I can tell you nothing. He has asked me not to write her for the time being.”
“I will not ask you to tell me where she is.” His voice was gentle. “If you can reassure me as to her well-being from time to time, I will be content. And when you write, assure her of the best wishes of all of us at the Jewel Box.”
“If you wish to speak to her brother, perhaps I might be able to arrange a meeting,” I said, but Canavan shook his head slowly.
“I don’t consider that would be wise. The poor child—torn away from everyone she knows after all that has happened to her. We had become a refuge for her, where she might be happy after a hard day of work, and the young man has used us to punish her—for what? For not choosing the friends he would have chosen for her?” He spread his long-fingered hands wide. “I would be bound by my friendship with Miss Lombardi to ask her brother that and other troublesome questions, and I think we would have an argument. I so dislik
e such scenes.”
“Are you fond of her?” I wasn’t sure from where the question came or what I really meant, but Canavan nodded.
“We are all fond of her. She loves us. She is so happy in our company. And for me, she is a reminder of myself as a child of her age, never content, always seeking until I found the life in which I truly seemed to fit. I would have her be one of us when she is old enough.” The large brown eyes widened, for once not hidden by their drooping lids but candid, revealing, looking directly into mine. “On the stage she would make the most of her good looks, her gift for display, as it were. She will need a great deal of training—the young are so conscious of how they might look to others, but we must learn the trick of making ourselves disappear while being visible to everyone. To be everybody and nobody.”
“She has already learned to hide herself.” I looked down at my hands. “If she’s truly happy in the company of you and your friends, that’s more than I’ve seen since she was a little girl. You know, Mr. Canavan, I told myself I would abide by Teddy’s wishes, and I will. I can’t keep favoring Thea over him, which is what I’m doing if I keep taking her side. But I feel for her terribly. I only ever wanted to help her.”
“And one day she may come to realize that.”
His voice had deepened, and as I looked up, I saw the knowledge in his eyes of how much Thea hated me.
“I just wish she had found her happiness in one of the solutions I offered to her,” I said.
“In a respectable life?”
“I don’t think women can be truly happy in any life where they are not received by the majority of their sisters.”