by Madison Kent
When the clock struck eight, the guests were escorted into the dining area, and the infamous Miss Emma finally made a dramatic entrance. Everyone turned to look at her when she entered the room; it was apparent she was chastising her escort.
Madeline was struck by how handsome Emma's companion was, looking more her age, than Emma's. His coarse, unruly, black hair fell across his forehead, and what looked to be a fresh, jagged scar, descended from his right temple, clear down the side of his cheek. His prominent nose and sad eyes made him attractive to her. There was something about his rough exterior that was appealing. She assumed he had seen something of a harder life than those present.
As Madeline had requested, Miss Emma had been seated near her, which inadvertently placed the young man right beside her.
He spoke first, "I'm Oliver Mandrake, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."
He spoke in a direct manner, looking her squarely in the eye―his voice a soothing, baritone, Southern drawl.
"I'm Mrs. Madeline Donovan, the Montgomery's guest, and..."
He interrupted her saying, "Oh, yes, the person we've come to meet. I've heard you dabble in the art of criminal pursuit. I must hear more of this. I confess I know no one who holds this occupation. You must regale me with your stories."
Emma offered, "Yes, you must entertain us. We can have such dull conversations at these events; it makes me yawn. Forgive me, I'm Emma St. Fleur―Oliver is my dearest friend."
Madeline ventured to say, "I hope you will not think me too bold, Miss Emma, but in my few days in town, I have come to know your name. I believe you had some association with the man who is still missing and the one who is now deceased."
Emily looked at her, squinted her eyes and with a stern voice said, "My, Miss Emily said you were from the North. I see there is no doubt that you have none of our Southern etiquette and grace. I do not wish to offend, but I believe your comment to be inappropriate for polite conversation..."
This time, Oliver stopped the conversation, "Emma, come now, wasn't it you who said perhaps the St. Alder boys' family might entertain the possibility of employing Mrs. Donovan to investigate what happened? There is no one in town that is not talking about you. We shall have none of this pretense."
"Still...," replied Emma.
"Emma!" protested Oliver.
Emma said, "It hardly seems like dinner conversation. It is a private matter, but I may offer you some information. Lonnie and Clifford were men with which I barely had an acquaintance. We had gone to the theater once or twice, and I do believe I went riding a few times with the St. Alder boy. However, I can tell you it was nothing serious, nothing like my affection for Oliver. Clearly, it should be obvious how I felt, or I surely would have been heartbroken when they went missing. But as I said, I had but a momentary attraction for them," she said as she fiddled with a ruffle on her dress, as if she were bored with the exchange. She looked up and then continued, "Perhaps the family would like someone to look into it besides the police. I will give you their addresses if you like."
Madeline replied, "Yes, that is something to consider."
She thought it would be foolhardy―as a complete stranger―to invite herself in on such an intimate matter. She would retain the addresses, but see if she might find a more personal way of meeting the family.
People were moving into the drawing room, when Oliver turned to her and said, "May I engage you in a dance, Madeline?"
Emma gave him a quick glance but only said, "Please go on, my dear, after all, this gathering is for the purpose of Madeline getting to know us. Who better to start with, than the fascinating Mr. Mandrake?"
"Perhaps in a while, I would like a word with Emily," Madeline replied.
Moving away from Oliver, she headed to the veranda, and to inhale a breath of the intoxicating summer air. What she desired was a sip of absinthe to calm her nerves. Absinthe was her drink of choice, a delicious, emerald-green liqueur that stirred even the most stoic of personalities. She didn't know what had come over her― her friend, Hugh, and Jonathan had never made her feel as nervous as a newborn pup. There was just something about him; he seemed untamed. Unpredictable men sometimes erased her sure-footing.
Emily touched her hand and said, "How are you faring, my child?"
"I did mean to ask you if you are serving absinthe?"
"I believe I have heard of it, but I am not sure. I will ask my husband; he takes care of such things. Anything else in its place?"
"Bourbon would be fine," Madeline replied.
"Come―bourbon, that is a man's drink. You must have champagne."
Emily said, "Reggie, see to it that Mrs. Donovan has a glass of our finest champagne."
Reggie nodded, smiling at Madeline.
"Has your visit with Emma been successful?"
"I will reserve my opinion on that, till after I speak to her further. I hope to find out more."
Emily smiled and said, "Let's see whether Northern aggression will overpower Southern tenacity."
Madeline smiled back, nodding her head as if accepting the challenge.
"What do you think of Olivier?" Emily asked with a strange undertone.
"I have not given much thought to him. I..,
"Not given him much thought...well, when I looked over, you both seemed sewn together, deep in your world. I'm sure Miss Emma did not miss it if I didn't."
Suddenly shy and embarrassed, she stated, "There is something about him, like someone in a dream, who calls you forward and you obey. If you must know, he did have some unexplainable effect on me that held my attention. He's different from the men I've known; that is all."
"I didn't mean to make you blush. It's just a warning. Every time that man is present, he seems to have the ability to draw women to him. Be careful of that one, although, I dare say, if I were younger, I wouldn't mind getting to know Oliver myself," Emily said, with the coquettish smile of a young girl.
"Go, I believe I see Mr. Oliver waiting for you," said Emily.
Oliver was in the middle of the room, speaking with several other young men, but looking in Madeline's direction, and beckoning her with his hand to come forward.
She steadied herself as she approached them, promising herself that she would not be victim to this stranger's charms. Emma was on his arm, and she looked at Madeline as if there were a contest that they were both participants. She did not mind this, because her intentions were to make Oliver and Emma part of her game, too. She could not imagine a better way to get closer to Emma, and discover the underbelly of her personality.
"I am sure you preferred to dance with your lovely, Emma," said Madeline.
Emma interjected, with an unconvincing smile, "Nonsense. My dear friend, Joseph, has just asked me, and that would leave my dear boy alone. And it is widely known that Oliver must have a lovely lady on his arm, or he will turn to dust."
Madeline believed these two would be a challenge―they were well-skilled in the art of social deception.
He held her with such a grip around her waist that it felt more like seduction than dancing. She said, "Oliver, you and Emma are unusual in that you seem content to be with someone other than your partner. I would think you might be jealous of someone as captivating as Emma being in the arms of another man."
"No, I am not a jealous man. When I see something I like, I take it. If it struggles too much, I will easily let it fly away. If it stays, I trust it, is because there is loyalty attached to love. If there is not, I have lost nothing, hence, it is absurd to me this feeling called 'jealousy'."
Madeline replied, "A curious word, you say, "it" referring to a loved one, almost like an object rather than a person." "It" dances with coldness."
"You're not an ingénue I can see that. You are a woman, but perhaps you have not yet been in the company of enough men to have been challenged. If love has come easy, then that is all you know. If you have never fought for it, then you know nothing of what I speak."
"Hmmm...I will say nothi
ng further on the matter for now. My true interest is finding out what happened to the St. Alder boy and Mr. Armstrong."
"If you would like me to escort you, I may take you to the river crossing where we found him. Although, I doubt there is anything to see, but the roll of the water, but I will take you there just the same. I have a friend who rode horses with Lonnie. I can take you to him if you are willing to let folks see you with the likes of me," he said with a challenging, almost mocking tone.
"I accept your kind offer. Perhaps sometime in the afternoon, let's say, one?"
"As it is a Sunday, I am at your disposal for as long as you want me. I will see you then."
The song concluded, and Emma returned to claim Oliver. Madeline felt a sense of relief that Emma did so, for she found her heart did not stop racing through the entire dance.
She conversed with as many people who would engage with her, in the hopes she might discover something.
"Reggie, another champagne, please?" she requested, as he walked passed her. He returned, smiling and said, "Not so sleepy a place now, is it, Miss? Now, you will see the mischief that is St. Augustine. I hope you enjoy yourself."
"Thank you, Reggie," was all she said, but thought that she would some time later ask him exactly what he meant by that.
Edgar put his hand on her shoulder and said, "There are gentlemen I would like you to meet, the pillars of the society," he said while coughing. She couldn't tell whether his cough was from the cigar or was he conveying something else.
She followed him across the room while all along eyeing the two spinster type ladies sitting in the corner of the room, who were whispering in rapid fire. That is what she set her sights on, she resolved to meet them.
Edgar took her to the billiard room, where several men were waiting their turn to play, smoking and discussing finances. She hoped they would prove more interesting than their conservative appearance dictated they would be.
"Madeline, these are the Bradley brothers, Thomas, and Joseph. Thomas is an architect of some note, and Joseph is one of our state senators. You will see evidence of Thomas' work everywhere in St. Augustine, as his firm has designed many of our finest buildings. Senator Bradley has brought great change and has upheld our conservative values. We are most proud to call him our friend, and this is Joseph's youngest son, Austin. He also is a fine architect in his own right, and a possible candidate for senator himself," said Edgar.
After a few polite words about the weather, they continued with their game, while Austin was ushered toward Madeline as if that were the intent all along.
"My father and uncle can behave rather foolishly. If they see an unattended, beautiful woman, they steer me toward them, as if I were still in my pram. Forgive them, I don't even think they know how forward they were. It's rather humiliating to think my father believes I am incapable of asserting myself in situations of the heart," said Austin.
Madeline replied, "Oh, please, don't apologize. I find it amusing to see them maneuver so. I am sure you are probably quite the ladies man, and your father is completely unaware."
He looked up at her as if she had some hidden power and said, "Has someone told you about me?"
Madeline softly laughed and said, "You just have."
His dark blonde hair was longer than the usual man's cut, it descended over his ears and almost touched his shoulders. She thought it a very becoming look for him. He looked to be perhaps five-nine or so, was slender, but had broad, muscular shoulders. He had the physique that came from weightlifting or boxing. His gray eyes and high cheekbones made him a man women sought to be near.
Then he laughed and said, "Yes, my father seems to think I will remain a bachelor, and I will not produce an heir for him to dote over. I'm nearly thirty, and by that age, all of my father's three sons were already born. He is frustrated with me, as I am with him. We are a family of architects, and politicians. Both occupations have garnered notable acquaintances. My father is great friends with Mr. Hasting's, the man who designed the Ponce de Leon Hotel. Our current project is the Flamingo Hotel. They say it will rival the de Leon."
"I have heard of it, but not yet had the privilege of going there. I hope to see it before I return home to Chicago," replied Madeline.
"May I get you a glass of champagne?"
"I would prefer a bourbon or an absinthe, but if I must..."
"Bourbon? That certainly would be my choice. We have one thing in common that we both enjoy. It is the beginning of a friendship," declared Austin.
"May I ask if you are one of the many men who have set their sights on Miss Emma?"
"You are bold. I think I will politely decline to answer that question. I would rather talk to you. Certainly you will allow me to take you to lunch one afternoon?"
"Do you think if you answer my question in the affirmative, the answer to yours will be "no"? How adept you are at the art of social graces. I would be delighted to have lunch with you, whether you are one of Emma's beaus or not. Please send word, and we shall devise a plan."
They danced just one dance when she saw that the older ladies she wished to speak to were fidgeting, and she thought they might leave without her having the chance to speak to them. "Now, if you will excuse me, Miss Emily, has requested that I meet with those two women. I believe they're Clifford St. Alders' great aunts."
"The twins? You will enjoy their company. I see what you seek is gossip, and you will find it. Happy hunting, Mrs. Donovan," he said as he bowed to her.
Winnie and Odean St. Alder were like many twins, who sometimes finished each other's sentences. They also had a similar habit of touching their finger to their lips when they thought they had said something they shouldn't. She guessed they might be near to seventy because of their lined faces and parchment skin. Their eyes, however, looked as if they had lived a happy life and were still enjoying being part of the game.
"We know why you've come to talk to a couple of old Southern gals. It's about Clifford, isn't it?" asked Winnie, whose clear blue eyes searched Madeline's for answers. "We know you are a detective, and even saw the Ripper's place of business―that Whitechurch place..."
"No, sister, it's Whitechapel," interrupted Odean, whose eyes were bluish-gray, probably the only physical feature that separated them.
Winnie touched her finger to her lips and said, "Oh, my, yes, I never remember it correctly. Of course, Clifford was murdered, plain and simple as that. But the folks around here won't say it out loud. I wouldn't be saying it now, except that you're a Northerner, and they're accustomed to hearing brash things."
Reggie walked by to offer more champagne, and they became silent. Madeline thought it interesting that they became guarded, even around the servants.
"Are you concerned about speaking in front of Reggie?" asked Madeline.
"The servants are the first to speak of gossip they've heard. They take every word you say and then tell a yarn that would turn your head. By the time they're finished with it, there won't just be murder, but with the most gruesome of details added," said Odean.
Winnie said, "We'll tell you more, but not here, too many ears."
She pointed to the outside and continued, "Besides, it's a lovely day―we should be enjoying the scented garden."
Once outdoors, the two sisters still peeked around, as if someone was listening. They moved to sit on an isolated bench; with roses beautifully cascading over it. Then Odean spoke, "In a year, that girl will come into a substantial amount of money―money I believe Corinne St. Fleur wants to be sure she is still in control of. It seems she always sought control over Jean, Mr. St. Fleur. He dotes on his surviving daughter, but, nonetheless, allows Corinne full power over them."
Winnie interjected, "Did you know the other twin's name was Storm, an appropriate name if ever there was one?"
"What do you mean?" asked Madeline.
"I believe the poor little one only lived for three or four days and suffered so before she passed. Corinne came to help Jean. She practically m
oved in after that," said Odean.
"That does not make sense. Corinne moved in?"
"That's what we came to tell you. No one speaks of it. I will wager your Emily did not say," said Winnie.
"Go on," Madeline said as she took Odean's hands, and said again, "Please, go on."
"Lynrose, an angel from heaven if ever there was one, was the mother of the twin girls. She tragically died while giving birth to them. Corinne was one of Lynrose's many friends, assisting as a midwife when she delivered. She offered to help Mr. St. Fleur, staying there in the days that followed Lynrose's death to watch over Storm and Emma. Sister, what was it? I think only six months before they were married," Odean stated.
"Seven, dear, I believe seven. Either way, it came as no surprise, as everyone thought Miss Corinne had an affection for Jean long before Miss Lynrose passed. She didn't waste a minute moving in. Of course, he was so lonely and grief-stricken, and then there was Emma. I supposed Mr. St. Fleur needed her," said Winnie.
"How do they get along? I mean, Emma and her stepmother?" asked Madeline.
"Like peas in a pod. Just like her father, there isn't anything Corinne wouldn't do for her," replied Odean, with Winnie nodding in agreement.
"I suppose it is only natural that Corinne is protective of Emma. From what I know of Oliver Mandrake, he might be one of those people she needs protecting from," declared Madeline.
"He's such a man, isn't he?" Winnie said, as she rapidly fluttered her fan. "If only I were younger, I wouldn't mind a dance around the floor with a man like him! He may be a dark horse, but I don't think he wishes her harm, but perhaps he does wish her money. They say he gambles."
"I am meeting with him tomorrow. It was a pleasure, ladies. We shall keep in touch so you can tell me more of the secret world that lies beneath the surface," said Madeline.
"Oh yes, dear, come anytime. The tea kettle is always on, with a bottle of bourbon beside it," Odean said as she laughed.
Chapter Three