by Jane Steen
“But it’s not the majority. It’s a narrow furrow of life that imagines itself superior because it has the arrogance to draw up a set of rules for itself.” Canavan’s long mouth curved up at one side; if there were such a thing as a benevolent sneer, that was his expression. “Most people don’t care. They live how they like.”
“I don’t believe that.”
Canavan regarded me for a long moment and then rose, holding out his hand.
“I do not doubt your sincerity, nor your innate kindness. It’s time I went to see your Mr. McCombs about finding me some paste jewelry that looks like it belongs to royalty. Poor man; from the article in the Tribune, it sounds like he received a nasty shock.”
“He’s fine.” I too stood and placed my hand into his. “It was an unsuccessful robbery, after all, and we’re on our guard now. We won’t let it happen again.”
“Of course not.” He kissed my fingers lightly. “To be robbed once is the sort of thing that could happen to anybody; to be robbed twice would start to look like carelessness.”
43
Intentions
“And Thea has never written Nell back, not once. So she thinks she’s done all she can, don’t you, Nell?”
Tess took a bite of the chocolate torte that was becoming her favorite dessert and smiled round at the table. Her first attempt at inviting her family to dinner in Calumet Avenue had been such a success that it had now become a fixture. The O’Dugans viewed Donny as a necessary component of that arrangement simply because Tess wanted it so, Aileen’s sour looks notwithstanding.
“I still wonder if I should try to visit her,” I said.
A chorus of “No” echoed to the swagged plaster decorations of our breakfast room. We were in this more intimate space because today’s party was small—only Mr. and Mrs. O’Dugan, Billy, and Donny besides Martin, Tess, and me. We were holding a luncheon rather than a dinner to allow our guests to get home before the December dark closed in.
“You won’t want to be traveling north with the snow and the ice coming toward you.” Billy frowned.
“And what about Elizabeth?” Tess asked. “You must stay here for her. When we went to see little Rosa, Elizabeth made us promise to visit at least once a week.”
Elizabeth had been safely delivered of her second daughter on the fifth of the month. She seemed to be taking this joyful event in her stride, especially now they had hired a permanent nursemaid she actually liked.
“I hope you’re not serious about chasing around after that ungrateful girl,” Billy continued. “She’s safe and well, so young Teddy tells you—and he would not lie, sure to God. It’s my opinion that you have to leave Miss Thea to Teddy and the good Lord. She’ll no doubt grow to love Wisconsin.”
“She didn’t grow to love Kansas.”
“Girls are so difficult at that age.” Mrs. O’Dugan took a dainty bite of her cake. “Mary and Aileen were both quite impossible till they married and settled down.” She heaved a sigh worthy of an actress in a tragedy. “Deirdre’s a good girl, I suppose, but how would I be sure? She comes to see us twice a year, like a visit from royalty, and doesn’t write above once a month.”
“Neither does Joseph, Ma. It’s a fair piece from where they live to Chicago and they both work hard,” said Billy.
“Ah, but Joseph is a man.” Mrs. O’Dugan nodded as if there were no more to be said about the matter and turned her huge-eyed gaze to Tess. “Thank the Lord for Tessie and her wanting to be with us so often. I tell you, Mrs. Rutherford, your young miss might turn out well enough given a few years. It’s marriage that will steady her. And children, if the Almighty blesses the union.” She made the sign of the cross over her lean breast. “Marriage is the proper destiny for a woman.”
I took a fold of my lower lip between my teeth as a gentle reminder that I was not to argue with my guests—or rather Tess’s guests. But to my surprise, it was Donny who spoke.
“I reckon it’s work that’s the making of any person, man or woman. Why do women have to get married if they don’t want to?” He frowned. “But maybe a man should marry a woman so she can be ‘an help meet.’” He pronounced the last three words carefully. “Is that right, Tess?”
I had noticed that “Miss O’Dugan” and even “Miss Tess” had gone by the wayside in Lake Forest despite Sarah’s attempt to educate Donny. Tess had stopped blushing every time she looked at Donny, but her smile was both adoring and encouraging as she nodded.
It was Billy who spoke though.
“I guess ‘help meet’ means that man and wife should work together for the good of their household, and perhaps that’s why flighty young girls shouldn’t become wives.” Billy, who was sitting next to Donny, clapped the other man on the shoulder. “Men shouldn’t marry neither till they’re old enough to learn some sense and to spot the right girl for them. But here’s the question I’ve been waiting to put to the assembled company, and you’ve given me the opportunity to do it.”
He hooked a thumb into his vest pocket and leaned back. “Supposing a man who has sworn he won’t even dream of marrying till he’s thirty and prosperous meets a girl who is the pearl of great price? It’s a conundrum, it is, because that very man is yours truly.” He made a slight bow. “I appeal to this excellent company for their advice—and it’s a fortunate thing that all the ones who’d have made remarks have stayed at home.”
“What did you say?” asked Tess. “I wish you wouldn’t use so many words to say things.”
Her confusion, and her frankness, gave rise to fond smiles on all sides, but Martin stepped in to explain. “I believe Billy wants to marry Kathleen and wonders if he should wait to pop the question. How old are you, Billy, if it’s not too impertinent to ask?”
“He’s twenty-seven,” said Tess. “But only just. He told me not to make a fuss about his birthday, so I didn’t.”
Smiles became laughter, and Martin and I, who had not known, stood to wish Billy many happy returns. That ceremony over, we sat, and Martin took up the reins of the conversation again.
“Are you afraid you’ll lose her if you don’t declare yourself?” he asked Billy. “Because that would be my fear in your circumstances. If you love a woman enough to marry her, you should tell her so and make your promise fair and square before life’s chances pull you apart.” He glanced at me; I responded to his rueful grin with a shrug and a roll of the eyes, and he laughed as he returned his attention to Billy.
“Would you be in a hurry for the wedding, my boy?” his father asked. “Is there a reason why you shouldn’t ask her now and settle in for a long engagement?”
“Of course not, Da.” Billy’s plain, honest face reddened, but he soldiered on. “My only reservation is that Kathleen might expect us to wed sooner than my thirtieth birthday. She’s twenty-four and her mother says it’s high time. Said it to my face, she did. All her sisters are married.”
“Are you in a position to set up housekeeping?” Martin asked.
“I think so, sir.” Billy drew himself up and looked Martin in the face with as much seriousness as if he had actually made the proposal on the spot. “I hope her father agrees, as sure I’ll have to ask him for her hand in a fitting manner.”
“Perhaps we should have a little rehearsal before you leave.” Martin, always interested in questions of finance, leaned forward. “You can make a speech to me about your salary, your savings, and your prospects, and I’ll see if I can put a hard question or two to you. For my part, I think she’s a lovely young woman and will be good for you. I can picture you as a family man.”
“She’s a very sweet girl,” I agreed. The round-faced young lady with glossy dark curls and lips curved in a perfect Cupid’s bow had endeared herself to me. She was sensible and thoughtful and seemed to have a mind of her own.
“I agree you should marry,” said Tess. “Don’t you, Ma? And, Da, you like Kathleen a lot.”
“I do that.” Mr. O’Dugan nodded emphatically. “Perhaps you’ll let me sit in
on your little rehearsal, eh, my lad? I might have something to add.”
“I didn’t mean to leave you out, Da.” Billy turned his frank gaze on his father. “You’re most welcome—it’s just that Mr. Rutherford offered.”
“Perhaps we ladies should retire and leave the men to talk?” I suggested. “If that’s all right with you, Tess? You wanted coffee served—the three of us could go to the library.”
As I walked out into the hallway, I could see snow falling outside. Thinking of our guests’ return journey, I went to the window to get a better idea of the weather as Tess and her mother headed into the library. The temperature had not yet fallen much below freezing even at night; it reassured me to see fat, wet flakes that would mostly melt and not make traveling difficult.
I heard the door open and shut behind me and turned.
“Can I talk to you about something, Miss Nell?” Donny’s shy smile lit his face. “If you don’t mind leaving off joining the other ladies for a few minutes.”
“Of course I don’t.” I led the way to the back parlor where we kept the piano. A fire was burning; through the French windows, I could see the snow settling in a sparkling crust on grass and hedges, melting into the flagstones under the wrought iron pergola and onto the roof of the annex that Martin had claimed as a billiard room and hardly used.
“I’m going to be twenty-seven in April,” was Donny’s surprising opening. “April the twenty-seventh, so the number of the day will be the number of my years. Only I don’t think it’s my real birthday because nobody knows it. They just guessed a birthday for me.”
“Three days after Tess’s birthday.” I smiled. “Perhaps we should hold a celebration for you too.”
I motioned for him to sit down, and he sank cautiously onto a chair. He always had the air of moving gingerly indoors, as if afraid to break something, constantly looking up at door lintels and down at pieces of furniture to ensure he could pass through, ducking or turning sideways if he was the least bit unsure. Outside, he was more confident, especially around horses or when carrying a load that would have buckled most men. In his plain suit and yellow vest, he might have been from almost any walk of life. Since the summer, he had begun shaving regularly, giving him an added air of maturity.
“Tess will be thirty on April the twenty-fourth,” he continued. “And I don’t mind at all that she’s older than me. The thing is, Miss Nell—” He stopped, seemingly tongue-tied.
“I can guess what this is about.” I fought to keep a smile off my face. “At least I hope I can—and I’m touched that you’ve come to me. Has Tess finally . . . that is, have you also got ideas about marrying?”
He didn’t answer, and for a horrible moment it crossed my mind that he planned to marry somebody entirely different. How heartbroken Tess would be. When he looked up at me, his brow was so creased I feared the worst.
“I don’t know how I’ll do it, Miss Nell. It all seems like so much to think about. I know it costs a man a heap of money to marry, and I’ve been saving, but I don’t even know what I’d need. How would I manage if I had to move out of my room and find a place to live? Nobody ever taught me about those things.”
I held up a hand. “Before we go on, I need to be certain. Is it Tess you’re hoping to marry or somebody else?”
Donny’s eyes widened under his fair brows. “Why would I be thinking of anybody but Tess?” He sounded completely astonished. “She likes me more than anyone has ever liked me in my entire life. Nobody’s ever set much store by me, but she—” He stopped, as if words failed him.
“She thinks you’re everything wonderful,” I said softly. “And when Tess thinks that of a person, she’s loyal for life. If you’ve seen that, then you deserve her.”
“I don’t understand what she sees in me.” Donny looked down at his work-roughened hands.
“Don’t you?” I swallowed down the lump in my throat, not wanting to elaborate in case I burst into tears of joy. “Why don’t you ask Martin about the financial side of things? He’d be as happy to help you as he is to help Billy.”
Donny rubbed at his thick shock of blond hair. “I’m not sure I’d understand if he told me. I can figure out how to do things with my hands, but I’m not smart with numbers and reading and things like that. And . . . I guess he makes me a little nervous sometimes, the way he can talk business and not even look at a piece of paper. I wanted to speak to you because we’re old friends from the Poor Farm, you and me and Tess. You’ll figure out a way through for me. And maybe you’re the person I should ask for her—for her hand—because you’ve known us longest. I don’t have anybody else.”
I leaned forward and put a hand on Donny’s arm, feeling its breadth and strength under the wool of his jacket. “You have my full agreement and support,” I said simply. “As for the rest, we’ll all sit down together and puzzle out what should happen. What sort of work do you want to do?”
“Exactly what I do now.” Donny sounded startled. “I wouldn’t have to change, would I? I wake up every morning happy because I work here. I notice what needs doing each day and I do it, and that’s a fine thing.”
“It certainly is. Well, the first thing you should do is propose to Tess and make it all official. Then we can discuss your future. I expect she’ll have her own opinions.”
“What should I say?” An expression of panic crossed the young man’s face. To some people, that might have seemed amusing, but I had my time at the Poor Farm to thank for making me understand that individuals were intelligent in different ways. Donny had a wonderfully practical mind and could work out how to mend or make things, or how to get an animal to do exactly what he needed it to, but he balked when it came to words. I reflected for a moment.
“Why not, ‘Tess, will you be my wife?’ That’s direct and easy to remember. Or you might say, ‘Tess, I love you. Will you marry me?’ You do love her, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. I like that last one.” Donny said the little speech under his breath twice, staring at the fire as his lips moved, and then gave me a tremulous smile. “I can remember that.” He took a huge breath, his chest expanding alarmingly. “Holy Moses, Miss Nell, I’ve gone all shaky inside.”
“Then you’d better take the first opportunity to ask her and get it over with.” I pressed my fingers to my lips to suppress a grin. “I suspect it’s quite common for the prospective bridegroom to feel a little nervous.”
Given that Tess—and Sarah—had walked in on Martin’s proposal to me, I was tempted to maneuver the situation so I could witness Donny’s proposal to Tess. The imminence of that proposal occupied my mind so thoroughly I barely concentrated on what Tess and her mother were talking about once I’d sent Donny back to the breakfast room and joined the ladies. Fortunately, Mrs. O’Dugan took it upon herself to deliver a thorough analysis of Kathleen’s demeanor, family background, and religious observances that lasted until Martin led the men into the front parlor to join the rest of us.
“We’ve concluded that Billy is able to risk marriage within the next year,” said Martin cheerfully as he waved Mr. O’Dugan toward the large straight-backed chair that suited him best. “With some careful housekeeping, a thrifty wife—and a little help at the start.”
“And it’s a wonderful thing that my own Da is the one to help me.” Billy was grinning from ear to ear.
“We wouldn’t have lived through the bad years if you young ones hadn’t been willing to work as hard as you did.” Mr. O’Dugan thumped softly on the ground with his cane. “I can’t give as much as I’d like, there being so many of you, but I’m proud to do it, and let’s say no more about it. Margaret, no tears now.”
Mrs. O’Dugan, who was showing signs of emotion, declared that she reserved the right to cry at the wedding, and the next half hour passed amid a great deal of gentle teasing. But soon it was time for our guests to depart; the snow was still falling lazily, and there was ice on the wind as Capell brought round the landau, its graceful lines obscured by the st
out leather top that was collecting a dusting of white.
“I should go back to work,” Donny said as soon as the carriage had rounded the corner onto Twentieth Street.
“Don’t be in a hurry,” I said quickly. “The weather’s dreadful—and Capell won’t be back for at least two hours.”
“But there’s always something to do, Miss Nell.” Donny looked fidgety, and I felt sure he would make good his escape until Martin came to my aid.
“Nell’s quite right—why spoil a pleasant afternoon? Come and give me your opinion about some advertisements I’ve collected. I’m considering getting a phaeton so I can drive myself around town.” He grinned at me. “When we’ve built our house in Lake Forest, I’m going to get a ladies’ driving carriage and give you lessons, Nellie. I’ve given up hope of ever putting you on a saddle, but you could learn to drive properly.”
“Only under duress.” I gave my husband what I hoped was a quelling look. “Aren’t you going back to the store?”
“In this snow?” Martin yawned. “And after such an excellent lunch? Besides, Sarah will be down soon. I’m going to call the store on the telephone and make sure all is well, and then I’m going to play hooky for a change.” He headed toward the niche at the back of the hall where the instrument resided.
“And I will be with you in just a few minutes.” I smiled at Tess and Donny. “Why don’t you go on into the library? It’s nice and warm if you keep the door shut.”
And if that didn’t do the trick, I reflected as I headed upstairs, then we probably wouldn’t be done with the matter till after Christmas. It would undoubtedly be too obvious if I invited Donny for Christmas Day—wouldn’t Tess be suspicious? Surely with all the matrimonial talk in the air, he would seize his opportunity. How long should I give him? Twenty minutes? But Martin would no doubt be back in no fewer than ten minutes. As convenient as a telephone was, it was a trial to use, what with the crackling and the difficulty in hearing the other person. I sighed and hastened my steps.