“Well, this certainly has turned into a French farce,” he drawled. “The two of you take your friend with you; you can trust that I will take care of your drunken classmate.”
“Take care of him?” Caro shouted. “Like you took care of my cousin, Grace? We know you were behind everything. You didn’t care if you ruined her life, as long as she didn’t upset whatever scheme you had regarding Sanders, as long as she didn’t tell anyone about Ruth Leverton. You as good as killed her. As for Mr. Keller, are you going to ‘take care of him’ the way you took care of Willie Caulfield?”
Laura, sensible of the danger Proctor still posed, said urgently, “Caro, please hush. We need to get Kitty away before someone comes.”
“Listen to Miss Dawson. You can’t prove a thing. Soon the nosy Mrs. Shepard will come around to find out what all the noise is about; then, Miss Blaine will be ruined.”
“Proctor…you hit me…why? You prom…prom…promised me I would get to do it. You…you…want a piece of her?”
Bart stood unsteadily on his feet, his words slurring, a trickle of blood running down the side of his face. He then pointed at Caro and said, “How does the bitch…the bitch know about Willie? You said if I got…if I got rid of him you’d…”
Laura heard a popping sound, and Bart collapsed into a heap on the floor.
The air filled with the acrid scent of gunpowder, and Proctor looked slightly bemused as he stared at a small derringer in his hand. “Sacre bleu, that worked better than expected.”
Laura ran over to Bart, but when she knelt down and turned him on his back, her stomach lurched as she saw the terrible hole in his forehead. As she fought her nausea, she started to stand only to discover that Proctor had come up behind her and was waving the derringer in front of her face, telling her that he would shoot if she didn’t behave.
Her heart, which had been hammering in her chest, slowed, and she thought calmly, I’ve been here before, but there’s no Seth to rescue me this time.
As she stood the rest of the way up, Proctor wrapped his arm around her waist. She felt the heat of the barrel as he held it against the collar of her basque. Caro, who sat rigidly with her arms around Kitty, stared hopelessly at her.
Proctor said, “You both should have taken my offer to leave with Miss Blaine. However, it has become clear to me that you have learned altogether too much from your snooping. I now have a new plan. I must say that it was nice of your friend to bring a gun to the party, I…”
Proctor suddenly stiffened. Laura heard Seth’s voice coming from behind her. Had the depth of her desire for him somehow summoned him to her rescue?
“I won’t say this again, Professor Proctor. Hand that gun to Miss Dawson if you don’t want your own head blown off.”
Laura felt Proctor take a deep breath before he said, “I don’t know that you are in the position to risk this young lady’s life on the off chance you would end my brain function before I squeezed the trigger.”
“Sir, given that you are holding a Colt single-action derringer, and given that you just used its one bullet on Mr. Keller there, I think I can risk it.”
Proctor sighed and moved the gun so it was pointing away from her. Laura carefully took the derringer from Proctor’s hand and stepped a few feet away, turning to see that Seth still held his gun to the back of Proctor’s head, one hand on the man’s shoulder. Proctor slowly raised his hands and said, “Mind if I turn around to see to whom I am speaking?”
“One minute, please.” Seth reached around and quickly felt under the man’s suit coat, Laura presumed for additional weapons. When he finished, he stepped back, still keeping the gun pointed at Proctor, and told him he could now turn around.
A sudden flurry of movement from the hallway resolved itself into Mrs. Sanders, who ran to Proctor and put her arms around him, saying, “What’s happened, darling? Why is Bart on the floor? Did he pass out again?”
Stupid woman. Now he can use her for a shield. Yet where could he go?
Proctor laughed and said, “My dear, don’t you know I’m a hero? I heard screaming coming from your house, thought maybe you were in danger. When I burst in, I found Mr. Keller, insane with drink, raping poor Miss Blaine here. Although how she got herself in this compromising position, I don’t want to speculate.”
When Caro started to say something, Proctor’s voice sharpened. “Once again, I’d advise all of you to leave immediately, pretend you were never here. I will take care of everything else.”
“What about Grace, or Willie for that matter?” Caro said, her voice hoarse with emotion. “Do you think you are going to get away with it all?”
“Oh, Miss Sutton, you are stubborn, just like your cousin. Miss Atherton kept insisting on justice. Well, it so happens that I have a letter from Bart, in which he admits that he’d pushed Mr. Caulfield off of a cliff. I have no idea why. No one will care. I suspect Mr. Keller’s long-suffering family will be relieved to learn of his death. However, if you insist on going to the authorities, I will say that I came in just as Miss Blaine shot Bart, with her derringer. Perfectly understandable behavior on the part of a young woman who was being assaulted. The university and her father will make sure the details are covered up, but the rumors will swirl, and her reputation will still be ruined.”
“Unfortunately he’s right.”
Laura, startled, turned to see Professor Sanders standing in the doorway to the parlor.
He said, “You four need to leave right now because Mrs. Shepard’s son is on his way down the hill to alert the town constable that there appears to be some sort of fracas going on at my cottage. Go out the back through the kitchen door. If you head south through the woods to exit onto Choate, you should avoid running into anyone.”
He sounded unbearably weary to Laura, and for the first time she thought of him as old as she watched him walk over to look down at Bart, where he murmured, “Poor boy.”
Next he walked over to Laura, who was still holding the derringer, and gently took it out of her hand as he said, “Hmm, looks a good deal like my wife’s gun. I think I will tell the constable that my wife and I returned from dinner, unexpectedly early, and discovered Proctor here standing over Bart with my wife’s gun. He can say whatever he wants, but since I have love letters from both him and Bart Keller to my wife, I suspect that the authorities’ conclusion will be that Proctor shot poor Mr. Keller out of jealousy over my wife. She will love that.”
Proctor scoffed. “And I will say you were the one who shot Bart, with your wife’s gun, in your house.”
“No one will believe you, because Mrs. Shepard and her son will testify that they saw Mrs. Sanders and me coming up the path minutes after they heard the single gunshot.”
Sanders turned around and said, “Please, Miss Dawson, get your friends out of here. Proctor is telling the truth about one thing. The authorities will cover this up, find some story to explain what happened to Bart. However, having any of you be part of this isn’t going to help anyone, and it could seriously damage your reputations. I can assure you, however, that after I have talked to everyone and showed them the documents I have, Proctor will not be the hero of this tale.”
“We need to hurry, Laura,” Seth said. “We have only a few minutes to catch the nine o’clock train to the Oakland Ferry depot.”
“You’re sure I shouldn’t have stayed?”
“Your Miss Sutton has everything well in hand. She will make sure Miss Blaine doesn’t go to sleep, which is the main danger of too much laudanum. You can send a telegraph to her father as soon as we arrive across the bay. Tell him she was taken ill and everyone thought it best for her and Celia to stay with your friend, Miss Sutton, until tomorrow morning.”
“He’ll be apoplectic, Seth. Either he will show up at my boarding house demanding an explanation or, even more likely, go all the way to Mrs. Feltzer’s to find out what is going on.”
“I know. We can hope that by the time he actually sees his daughter, she will be in bette
r shape. I think she has enough self-preservation to stick to the story about being ill. Celia and Caro will support this version of events. And you said Chad McCarthy could be trusted to keep silent.”
“Absolutely. He has a very strong romantic streak, and the idea of protecting a fair lady’s reputation will make him very happy.”
As they turned onto Center Street and could see the lights of the station, Laura tucked her hand into Seth’s arm, glad he had insisted she leave. Now that the immediate crisis was over, she could feel the after-effects of seeing her friend being assaulted, witnessing the death of a classmate, and having a gun thrust in her face. Her knees were definitely still a bit wobbly. All through everything, Seth had been his steady, calm self.
He’d carried Kitty out of the cottage and down the hill until they got to Choate. Then he wisely insisted that they get Kitty up and walking the rest of the way to Caro’s boarding house, since there were a fair number of people on the streets making their way to the Bourdon Burial. He positioned himself on one side of Kitty, holding her up and guiding her steps, while Laura had her arm around her from the other side, pretending to have a lively conversation with her nearly unconscious friend whenever they passed someone on the street. Caro walked in front of them, which somewhat helped shield the three of them. Nevertheless, the journey between the Sanders’ cottage and the boarding house felt interminable.
Lengthening her stride to keep up with Seth, Laura said, “It’s just occurred to me, why were you at Sanders’ cottage? How did you know to look for me there?”
“I came to find you at Miss Sutton’s. Mr. McCarthy filled me in on your fears for Miss Blaine and told me you had gone to look for her at Professor Sanders’ cottage. Thank goodness, I wasn’t very far behind you. I must say, I would prefer that you not get yourself in this sort of danger ever again.”
“Oh, Seth, I didn’t plan on this. And, if you remember, the last time I was in danger, it was from trying to rescue you. You still haven’t explained why you came over to Berkeley to look for me in the first place. Afraid I had gone off to bury the Bourdon with the rest of our freshmen class?”
Seth gave her a warm smile and said, “Look, the train is pulling into the station. We need to run to make sure we catch it. I promised I would get you back to the O’Farrell Street boarding house quickly. You see, the baby is coming, and your sister-in-law wants you there as soon as possible.”
Epilogue
Sunday afternoon, June 12, 1881
San Francisco
“LeConte Resigns and Welcker Walks the Plank—a Lively Meeting Reported in Detail.” San Francisco Chronicle, June 3, 1881
“Abigail appears to be a strong, healthy baby, already quite aware of her surroundings,” Caro said, knowing that this was what Laura wanted to hear.
Personally, she’d discovered at the age of fourteen, when she spent a summer on the Nebraska farm helping take care of her youngest cousin, Benny, that she found infants inherently tedious. On the other hand, her cousin Grace, a ten year old, had been so proud about being permitted to help change the baby’s nappies, and she would sit quietly with him in her arms for hours, rocking him to sleep, giving her mother a chance to rest.
Grace would have made a wonderful mother. How Aunt Jean must grieve the loss of that future for her daughter.
“I, of course, think she’s perfect, but what do I know?” Laura said with a laugh. “Do you have a few minutes for some tea before you head back to Berkeley?”
“That would be quite nice. My train leaves tomorrow morning, but I am all packed up and ready to go. Chad McCarthy, dear boy, has asked if he could take me out to dinner this evening to say good-bye.”
“What and miss your last wretched meal with Mrs. Feltzer?”
“This morning’s breakfast was a sufficient reminder of her deficiencies.”
I’m going to miss Laura’s humor. I need to remember that laughing helps ease the pain.
The young servant appeared at the door to the study and asked if she should bring up the tea service, adding, “Mrs. O’Rourke has a fresh batch of cookies just coming out of the oven. Shall I bring some of those up as well?”
“That would be perfect, Kathleen. Oh, you can leave the door open. Mr. Timmons should be arriving soon.”
Caro thought about how, someday, when she set up her own household, she hoped she would be able to assemble a staff that was as efficient as the one Annie Dawson had gathered around her. One thing she knew she would do with her inheritance was insist that her aunt hire a girl to help on the farm with laundry and other chores.
When the maid left, and they arranged themselves at a table by the front bay window, Laura turned to Caro and said, “Starting this week, Seth will be working afternoons and Saturdays in my brother’s office. This will let him continue doing the evening shift at the press five days a week.”
“A very enterprising young man.”
“He hopes to save up enough money so he’ll only have to work part time in the fall when he starts law school.”
Caro found it amusing that Laura still blushed when the subject of Seth Timmons came up. Laura had insisted when they first met that she believed that pursuit of a career and romance at the same time was impractical. Even then, Caro had thought that, as the good bard put it, “The lady doth protest too much.” At least, unlike Grace, or Miss Celia Beale for that matter, Laura had chosen wisely. Caro had been impressed by Seth’s quick thinking and calm demeanor throughout the eventful night of a month ago.
“Have you heard from Kitty or Celia since they left for Europe?”
“One letter from each of them. Celia’s letter said that Kitty had recovered from her illness and that they were looking forward to touring the museums of Paris while Kitty’s father did some business across the channel in London. Did I tell you that they left a week earlier than planned for New York? Supposedly because they needed to do some additional shopping for the trip. I can’t help but wonder what Celia has told Kitty about what happened that night.”
“It is possible that Kitty doesn’t remember much beyond going to the Sanders’ cottage and Proctor getting her to drink something doctored with laudanum. I expect he had some story for why the professor and his wife weren’t there yet. The more she tells the story of feeling ill, perhaps something she ate at dinner that night, and how her friends had the foresight to get her to my house before she completely succumbed, the more that will become the reality for her. Two months spent jaunting around Europe, meeting new people, will help. With any luck, by the time she returns in the fall, Mr. Keller’s death and everything associated it will be old news.”
Caro knew her words were laced with bitterness.
Laura said, “In the good news department, Kitty’s letter mentioned that Celia broke off her engagement with Ned. He not only failed German, but he also failed math and Latin. I gather his father has decided to send him back east to school, where he is expected to live with an uncle, who will ‘take him in hand.’”
“Oh my, I wonder if his father wants to protect him from drunken fraternity brothers or an attractive Irish fiancé?”
“In either case, Celia is done with him.”
“That is good news. Chad will be pleased to learn that she will be returning in the fall, unencumbered by a fiancé.”
“Caro Sutton, I never figured you as a match-maker.”
“I must say your Mr. Timmons has somewhat restored my faith in the possibility that there are some worthy men in the world. For my friends, mind you, not for myself.”
Laura said earnestly, “Without Seth and my father and brothers to remind me every day that there are such men, I don’t know how I would manage. How about you? How are you holding up? I know it must be difficult for you to leave with nothing resolved.”
Caro looked out the window, trying to decide how to respond. “You and I have a pretty good idea of what happened, at least to Ruth Leverton. Whether or not Proctor seduced her or drugged her the way he did with Celia
, Ruth ended up pregnant.”
“And had a father who paid Proctor off and got his daughter married to someone who had every reason to accept a son who was not his own.” Laura shook her head. “Proctor must have thought he could try the same thing with Kitty and her father. Celia’s arrival on campus, which meant that she and Ned could play chaperone, as Grace and Willie did with Ruth, gave him the opportunity he needed. Gave him a way to cultivate a relationship with Kitty, until he was ready to make his move at the end of the school year.”
Caro nodded. “Exactly what I think happened. If Proctor already had his sights set on Kitty this fall, he must have feared that Grace would find out about what happened to Ruth, maybe even warn Kitty.”
“No wonder he went to all the trouble to organize the campaign against Grace. Bart was easy to manipulate, the rest of the fraternity men willing participants…it seems even Mrs. Sanders played a role.”
“Didn’t Sanders also say that he had letters from Bart to his wife?” Caro’s memories of all the details of that night were a bit muddled.
“I believe so. Proctor and Mrs. Sanders may have encouraged Bart, seeing his infatuation as a way to hide their own activities.”
“The tea parties and the late night visitors that Mrs. Shepard spoke about,” Caro said.
“I wouldn’t put it past Proctor to have persuaded Sanders’ wife to help him ruin Kitty by promising that after he extorted money out of Kitty’s father, they could run away together. Thank goodness Professor Sanders decided he and his wife should return home early; I wonder if he had some suspicion that something was going to happen that night.”
Caro recalled how Proctor had been belittling Bart when she and Laura arrived at the cottage. And how Bart seemed to have thought that raping Kitty Blaine was some sort of reward. For silencing Willie Caulfield or for attacking her cousin in a similar fashion? She wasn’t sure she ever wanted to know the answer to those questions.
Scholarly Pursuits Page 36