by Sara Donati
Rosa thought about this for a long time. Then she nodded. “Mama used to tell me stories of how things worked in Italy. How women would use the truth to hurt each other. How her Aunt Valentina told her Aunt Simona that the boy she loved would never marry her because her teeth stuck out, and it was true, but it hurt Aunt Simona so much that she never forgave Valentina and spat whenever she heard her name. Did you use the truth to hurt this lady from the apothecary on purpose, or couldn’t you help it?”
Sophie was very sure that this was the question that would keep her awake at night for a long time to come.
* * *
• • •
VERY EARLY THE next morning she found Sam Reason and Noah Hunter in the kitchen talking to Laura Lee while she cleaned string beans. It was a conversation about the mansion on the corner, the one that belonged to former governor Fish and was always empty. There was a rumor that he was willing to sell it if the right offer came along, as he was too old to travel back and forth from his country estate to the house in the city. Apparently this was the major subject of discussion through all of Stuyvesant Square.
The report was that a Mrs. Roberts, one of the best known of the city’s many madams, was going to make an offer. It was her plan to turn the old governor’s mansion into a bordello to rival the fanciest houses in Paris and London. Mrs. Griffin had declared this to be impossible, which meant, it was generally agreed, that it was as good as done.
The result would be a war waged in the newspapers, and reporters looking for scandal in every household on Stuyvesant Square. No doubt they would come first to her own door. Paired with the lawsuit, this bit of news would make Sophie and everyone in the house prime targets of the newspapers that wallowed in the lurid.
Sophie cleared her throat and all three of them started when they realized she had overheard something of the conversation. Their wariness made her a little sad. That was unfair of her, of course; she should be glad that a friendship had grown up among these three people she depended on for so much. She liked them all and had even come to appreciate Sam Reason, but she was their employer. As the person who paid their wages she was supposed to keep separate and should not be gossiping with them.
On the other hand, this news about the Fish mansion was relevant.
She said, “I’ll ask Conrad to look into the sale. I’d prefer not to have a disorderly house next door.”
“Is there anything you could do to stop it?” Laura Lee asked.
With that simple question two things occurred to Sophie: there might be something she could do, and these three had already decided that she should take that step. And one more thing: what she had overheard was part of an ongoing discussion of who should raise this subject with her.
“I have to get back to grooming the horses,” Noah Hunter said, and slipped out of the room just as Laura Lee announced that she needed to look in on Tonino and the little girls.
Sophie was left with Sam Reason, who had found something about his shoes suddenly worth his study.
“I take it you pulled the short straw,” Sophie said. “What is it you are supposed to tell me?”
He wagged his head from side to side: a man considering a number of options, none of them appealing.
“Might you consider buying the Fish mansion yourself?”
Sophie sputtered a laugh. “Two houses aren’t enough?”
Now his expression was serious. “You might want to expand the school, once you get started. You’d need classrooms, and sleeping quarters, and storage—”
She held up a hand to stop him. “I don’t even know if this first venture will work. It’s a little early to be planning an expansion, wouldn’t you say?”
He lifted a shoulder. “You wouldn’t have to have a hand in the day-to-day running of a school, of course.”
“Mr. Reason,” Sophie said. “My plans are very specific. I want to help motivated young women prepare to go to medical school. Of course we need more and better schools for colored children, but that would really be beyond me. I can contribute to such causes, but in the end, I am a doctor.”
He blinked, as if she had surprised him.
“Well,” he said. “You could turn the Fish mansion into a hospital, if not a school. It would lend itself to that purpose with some remodeling.”
Now she did laugh. “You want me to open a hospital?”
“It’s worth thinking about,” he said, quite calmly. “But of course you’d have to buy the mansion first.”
She stared at him for a long moment and tried to imagine what Cap would say to this very odd suggestion. He would like it, of course. He would like the symmetry of it: the three properties in a row, her own residence with the institute on one side and the hospital on the other. The money was available, that much she knew. But a hospital for whom, exactly? How many patients could be admitted?
Sam Reason was trying not to smile, no doubt because he could read her curiosity about this suggestion from her expression.
In exasperation she said, “I’ll talk to Conrad. Any other plans the three of you have concocted for me? Never mind. I should be thanking you for taking on so many responsibilities, as I am so distracted.”
Because she didn’t really want to talk about the things that were distracting her, she nudged the conversation in another direction.
“I appreciate the time you take with Rosa. This is difficult for her, and you’ve given her something other than Tonino to think about with your lessons.”
“She’s very bright.”
“Yes,” Sophie said. “Yes, she is. I’ve been meaning to ask if you think I should enroll her in school.”
She had surprised him. “She’ll be staying here, then?”
Another question she had shoved out of her mind. “You’re right,” she said. “She might not be staying.”
His gaze was calculating, but then he seemed to put the issue aside. “I should get back to work. There are letters and bank drafts for you to review and sign, when you have a moment.”
Then she asked a question she hadn’t meant to ask. “I hope you are happy here in your work.”
She had no idea why she was so reluctant to let him go back to the office, but once he had assured her that yes, he was more than satisfied, another question popped out of her mouth. “And your situation with Mrs. Griffin. Are you comfortable there?”
His pleasant expression went suddenly still, and a studied blankness took its place.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Some trouble?” Sophie asked.
He shook his head. “No. Not really.”
Sophie was wondering how she could get him to talk freely about whatever was bothering him—because clearly there was some issue at Mrs. Griffin’s—when Laura Lee came back into the kitchen and took up her bowl of beans.
Once Sam Reason had gone back to the office, Sophie stood looking after him, uneasy now and confounded. An idea occurred to her.
“I’m going out into the garden.”
Pip, who had retired to his bed in the corner, perked up at this announcement and ran to the door.
She didn’t need to go in search of Noah Hunter, because he was already walking toward her. At his left heel Tinker quivered with excitement at the sight of Pip.
Noah Hunter made a soft sound in his throat and Tinker shot forward. Instantly the two dogs were rolling around on the grass in pure joyful abandon.
It seemed to Sophie that Noah Hunter was always waiting for her, but now it was her turn. He walked toward her, his gait long and loose and easy. Not wasting time and not rushing, either. The sun shone on the braid that hung over one shoulder, setting off its deep silver. But then everything about him seemed to be full of color: a few bright blue petals caught in that silver hair, the bronze of his skin, slightly darker beneath the strong bosses of his cheekbones, the bright red checked kerchief
he wore knotted around his neck, a dusting of yellow pollen on the deep green of his shirt. The flash of strong white teeth when he talked.
“Something I can do for you?” Accommodating, but reserved. As was appropriate. She wondered what his laugh sounded like, and if she would ever hear it.
“Yes,” Sophie said. “You can answer a question. Do you consider Mr. Reason a friend?”
One brow shot up, and Sophie realized too late how the question must sound: as if she had the right to demand answers about his personal life.
“Pardon me,” she said. “Let me start again. If you are comfortable talking to me about this, I have the feeling that Mr. Reason is unhappy in his rooms at Mrs. Griffin’s house. Do you know if that’s the case?”
His gaze was level, his expression thoughtful. “You should talk to him about this.”
“I just tried,” Sophie said. “Which is why I’m now talking to you. I have no allegiance to Mrs. Griffin. My concern is for Mr. Reason’s comfort. I don’t know what I’d do without him, to be honest.”
Noah Hunter’s gaze shifted to the sky, now a glossy pale blue. Another sign that summer was really upon them.
He said, “My guess is he doesn’t want to talk to you about it because of your connection to Dr. Lambert.”
In her surprise Sophie took a step backward. “My—my connection? I have no connection to Dr. Lambert. No personal connection.”
That dark eyes came back to focus on her face. “If that’s the case, then it would be a good idea to tell him so.”
“Noah Hunter,” she said. “Are there rumors about a connection between me and Dr.—” Her voice broke. “Dr. Lambert?”
Sophie knew that her voice trembled but there was nothing she could do to stop it. Pip nudged at her skirts, and she crouched to pick him up.
Something came into Noah Hunter’s expression, a kind of wariness tinged with concern. “I wouldn’t call what I’ve heard rumors. Just idle talk. Enough to make people wonder.”
The first flush of anger made Sophie jerk. “And you? Do you wonder?”
“No,” he said, without hesitation. “I have seen how he makes you uneasy. Maybe he even frightens you a little. So I—” He hesitated. “I try to stay close when he’s around. That is improper, I know. It’s not my place to decide you need watching over, and if you do feel that way, there are better men for that job. I’ll get back to work now, if that suits you.”
“Wait, please—” She hesitated. “You have got this backward. It’s a relief to know that you are watching out for me because I am uncomfortable with Dr. Lambert. I appreciate your concern and I’m sorry to have put you in an uncomfortable position just now.”
He considered her for a long moment and then gave her a formal bow from the shoulders. “I’m here at your pleasure, of course.”
* * *
• • •
NEXT SHE SOUGHT out Sam Reason where he was at work over the accounts in the office that had once been the library.
“I have a question for you,” she said.
He looked up, but his mind was clearly absorbed by columns of numbers and it took him a moment to set them aside.
“Yes?”
“I’m wondering if you’d like to move into Larks. It’s not good for a house to be unlived in, Lia and Mr. Lee tell me. And it would save you some money.”
She thought he couldn’t look more surprised if she had jumped up on the table to dance a jig.
“It’s just an idea,” she said. “For you to consider. Now if you’ll pardon me, I need to spend some time with Tonino.”
Before she could get out the door he said, “I would like that. Thank you.”
Sophie nodded and went on her way. Oddly flustered, but satisfied.
* * *
• • •
THE OPPORTUNITY TO raise the subject with Laura Lee didn’t come around for another day, when they were sorting through a delivery from the dressmaker.
“No more black,” Laura Lee said. “That’s good, with the heat coming on. And what a pretty silk taffeta, such a shimmer to it.”
Sophie had ordered day gowns in different shades of gray, all of them in the muslins and silks that would provide at least a small amount of relief through the hottest days of the year. All except one had the split skirts she and Anna had designed when they first started medical school, the cleft in the skirt hidden by draping of the overdress. Every one of the gowns was utterly plain: no bustle, or flounces or layers of lace. She had never worn a corset—Aunt Quinlan had a lifelong aversion to anything of the kind—and her clothes were all generously cut to allow her to move as her work demanded of her.
Fashion played no role in her conversations with the dressmaker, but she did like pretty fabric and she appreciated the intricacies of well-made lace, carved buttons of ivory or jet or pearl, and the artistry of fine embroidery. The dressmaker understood her preferences, and the results were pleasing to her.
“What do you call this color?” Laura Lee held up the most elaborate of the gowns, silk of a subtle filmy green. There was fine embroidery around the neck of the overdress and at the shoulders of the underdress in greens and the palest of creams and pinks.
“Celery, I think it’s called,” Sophie told her.
“Celery!” Laura Lee turned toward the window to let the sun shine more directly on the gown. “Why, it’s barely green. Though you know what, it will bring out the color of your eyes. Which one of these will you wear to the courthouse once things get going?”
Sophie picked up the most severe of the gowns, dark gray, unornamented but for a narrow bit of lace at the neck. “This one.”
Laura Lee considered, her mouth pursed. “I suppose that’s about right. Don’t want to give them the wrong idea.”
“Wrong ideas seem to seek me out,” Sophie agreed. And then, after a pause: “I asked Mr. Reason if he wanted to move into Larks, as the house is empty for the time being. He seemed quite pleased with the idea.”
Laura Lee sent her an appraising look. “I heard. It was a good thought. I think the move will suit him.”
Casually, Sophie said, “Do you know why he has been unhappy at Mrs. Griffin’s house?”
“I do not,” Laura Lee said, without hesitation or surprise. “He never has said anything to me about it. He is discreet.”
“I take it then there’s something to be discreet about,” Sophie suggested.
After a long moment Laura Lee said, “It seems so, but you know how it is with gossip in any neighborhood. Everybody wanting to know everything.” She cast a glance at Sophie. “Though you don’t seem to spend much time worrying about such things.”
Now Sophie was both concerned and curious. She took her time smoothing a gown of a delicate oyster gray and considered whether to ask for more information. Then Laura Lee went on without prompting.
“For example,” she was saying. “I heard from one of the Quaker Meetinghouse caretakers that there’s a disorderly house right across from St. George’s, on Sixteenth Street. I walk by it all the time and never realized. It’s called the Parlor, just over Wiley’s Saloon. Not three minutes from here.”
Sophie had treated a few of the prostitutes who worked for Mrs. Wiley while she was on staff at the New Amsterdam and could have verified this rumor, but her training and her conscience would not allow this.
Laura Lee went on with the neighborhood gossip, careful to establish what was say-so without evidence, the degree of malice that seemed to come along with one bit of information compared to the next, and whether she credited the report. Nothing out of the ordinary for any neighborhood, in Sophie’s experience: dishonesties small and large, those who were too fond of liquor or lottery tickets or other people’s spouses, children of all ages behaving badly, family quarrels lasting generations, good luck and bad, people falling in and out of love. None of it especially s
urprising or interesting.
“And Mrs. Griffin?”
Laura Lee considered a pleated sleeve that closed with a beautiful carved ivory button set in brass. Then she let out a resigned sigh.
“She’s very stern with her staff. Inflexible. Unforgiving. The repercussions for the smallest infraction are . . . dire.”
“She beats them?”
The dark eyes came up right away. “No. Nothing like that. But she will turn someone out on a moment’s notice, without a reference. For a spoon a half inch out of place, or a twisted apron string or a head cold that inconveniences her. She is just as mean as a snake.”
So, if this was what made Sam Reason uncomfortable, Sophie told herself, she understood. He didn’t like to see people being treated unfairly. She wondered if there was more to it, but there was no way for her to find out; she could not force a confidence. The most she could do was give him a way out.
The sound of quarreling between Rosa and Lia came to them, and Laura Lee said, “Look at the time, it’s almost lunch. They get cantankerous when they’re hungry. I have got to make tracks.”
“Wait,” Sophie called after her, and Laura Lee paused, her hand on the doorknob. “You might mention to the girls, just casually, that there is another bidder for the Fish mansion. Conrad tells me he thinks it won’t be very complicated or drawn out.”
“That will put a smile on everybody’s face,” Laura Lee said, and demonstrated what she meant by that.
* * *
• • •
AFTER THE NURSE who looked after Tonino in the mornings left at one, and before the nurse who took the second shift arrived at three, Sophie sat with Tonino. Rosa always sat with them, and sometimes Lia came along. If there were three people in his room or thirty, it made no difference. Tonino slept.
Over the last week the pain had become more intense as the tumors in his neck grew. Because he could take only very small amounts of liquid, dribbled onto his tongue, his meals had been reduced to bone broth, gruel thinned with milk, and ever-larger doses of tincture of opium.