Liang was moving around in silence tending to lunch, but Abrianna knew the girl had noted what a mess she was.
“I look like an unkempt urchin.”
The Chinese girl put a hand to her mouth and giggled. “You look like you pull hair out in madness.”
“Well, very nearly,” Abrianna said, taking the ribbon from her hair. The auburn curls flared out around her. “I’d best get it in order before the aunts see me.” She worked with lacking skill to amass the hair into order. Never in her life had she been one to show great talent in this area.
Liang came up from behind her. “You sit. I make right.”
Abrianna did as instructed and handed the ribbon to Liang. “Thank you. I fear I will only make things worse, and I have so little time to set it right.”
The girl worked with seeming ease, first pulling the curls from one side to another. She combed through Abrianna’s hair with her fingers and separated the mass into three equal parts. Next she plaited it down her back and tied the braid with Abrianna’s ribbon.
“There. You look like lady again.” Liang stepped back just as Abrianna jumped to her feet.
She took a quick glance at her reflection. “And none too soon. I have to hurry, though. Thanks, Liang. You are most amazing.”
Abrianna entered her aunts’ private sitting room just as the clock struck eleven. She let out the breath she’d been holding and gave each woman a smile. “Good day, Aunties.”
“Good day, Abrianna. Thank you for being prompt,” Aunt Miriam said, motioning her to a chair. “Please, come have a seat. We have an important discussion to hold.”
Abrianna couldn’t imagine what it might be. Were they going to reprimand her for burning a pie the day before? Maybe Aunt Selma had seen the mess she’d made of her embroidery and they were going to berate her for not taking enough time and care. Goodness, she prayed it wouldn’t be that discussion about their raising her up to take over the school.
“I know this may come as a surprise, but a suitor has asked to court you,” Aunt Miriam said, jumping right into the subject at hand.
A blow to her stomach couldn’t have surprised Abrianna more. “A suitor? For me? Goodness, but that is something I did not pray for. Who is he?”
“Mr. Welby.”
Her eyes widened at the memory of the man who’d pursued her at the Easter gathering. He had tried his best to appeal to her by offering compliments and praise, but such things had never interested Abrianna.
“I have no desire to court Mr. Welby or any suitor. You know that I feel called to help the poor and downtrodden. I can hardly do that with a husband who expects me to make a nice home and cook his meals.” She held up her hand before her aunts could protest.
“I know what you’ve often said. The right man would aid my cause and come alongside me to offer help. But you must understand that I consider this God’s work, and I want to be faithful to Him—not a husband.”
“Abrianna, Mr. Welby is a much respected man who gives generously to charities. He might honor your concerns, as well.”
“Mr. Welby is a man with a social bearing to consider, and as such,” Abrianna countered, “he will have certain expectations of a wife. I doubt he would allow his spouse to frequent the docks and poorer parts of town.”
“It has never been our desire that you do so, either, and yet you do,” Aunt Miriam declared. “I’m afraid that no matter whom you marry, you will go on doing just as you wish.”
“You are most likely right about that. Still, we know nothing of him, and while he might be generous in his charities,” Abrianna said, hoping to figure a way to discourage the discussion, “he was quite ruthless when he came here to try to purchase the building from you.”
“It’s true. But the man did offer a measure of regret. He told me of his great frustration in being thwarted time and again from purchases of prime property for his business. So you see, he is a man of honor. He merely needs to find the right real estate.”
Abrianna knew this was getting her nowhere. She’d told them of her need to work for God, had questioned Mr. Welby’s integrity, and had shown her own disinterest. What else could she say or do to reason with them?
“Why not have Abrianna and Mr. Welby simply meet at the receptions rather than court?” Aunt Poisie offered. “There we can supervise the couple, and they can get to know each other better while under our guarded watch.”
Aunt Miriam bristled. “Well, I never intended to allow Abrianna to accompany Mr. Welby without one of us in attendance. She has never courted, and a chaperone is definitely in order. There may be all sorts of newfangled courting procedures that allow for men and women to be more intimate, but we will not allow that in our house.”
Knowing she needed time to figure out how she might dissuade her aunts or discourage Mr. Welby, Abrianna spoke up. “I would be willing to get to know him at the school receptions, but only there. I feel quite guarded in giving my heart to anyone—just as you taught me.” She looked to each aunt as if to emphasize their wisdom. “You have raised me to know that God has specific mates for most people, while others are destined to remain single. I trust in Him for direction to know which I might be. I’ll definitely need time to pray about Mr. Welby.”
“That’s a wise path,” Aunt Selma replied. “Goodness knows, a man might seem to be honorable and godly, but then without even realizing what has happened, you could find him studying astronomy.”
Poisie nodded her head quickly. “And you don’t want that to happen to poor Abrianna, Sister.”
“Indeed, I do not,” Aunt Miriam said. “Nor will I stand for anything less than a man who loves God and proves such love—as well as love for Abrianna.”
Abrianna awoke to pouring rain the next morning. The day seemed to match her heart and mood. Not only was Charlie missing, but now she had this nonsense with Mr. Welby to deal with. How she wished Lenore would return. She supposed her friend was having great fun in San Francisco, but Abrianna missed her dearly and needed her counsel.
Making her way downstairs, Abrianna was surprised by the relative quiet of the house. She heard people stirring, but it seemed much more subdued than a typical morning. Abrianna searched throughout the building for her aunts and finally found Militine straining to look out a window.
“Where is everyone?”
“There was a tragedy,” Militine told Abrianna in a reverent hush. “We were told to remain in the upstairs drawing room for breakfast rather than come here to the dining room. I’m afraid I had to come, however, for the view is better. If you want to eat, Liang is getting ready to serve.”
Abrianna shook her head. “What kind of tragedy?”
“Someone was killed,” Militine confided. “Your aunts didn’t say so, but I overheard a policeman declare it to be murder.”
“Murder!” she gasped. “Who was it?”
Militine shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Very well. I shall have to investigate it for myself.” Abrianna hurried to the kitchen and found Liang loading up a tea cart. “Where is Aunt Miriam?”
“She down the stairs talking to a policeman. Your other aunties, they there, too.” Liang looked most sober. Her black hair had been pulled back tight in a most severe knot, making the girl look years older.
Abrianna took hold of Liang’s arm as she turned to go. “Do you know who was killed?”
“No. I do not see. I know it is a man, but no more.”
Abrianna tarried no longer. She made her way down the back stairs and hoped that Aunt Miriam might tell her what had happened. It was most unusual to have a murder take place at their door, and the entire situation intrigued Abrianna. Wade had told her how dangerous the area was becoming, and she had doubted him.
I suppose I shall owe him an apology and tell him his concern was merited. But if I do that, will he insist on my staying at home? Worse still, will he speak to my aunts?
She spied her aunt speaking with the policeman. Abrianna hurried forwar
d. “What has happened? Militine told me someone was killed. Who was it?”
“We don’t know, miss,” the officer said. “Just some poor old sailor who’d met up with bad company.”
“A sailor?” The words almost stuck in her throat. “May I see him?”
“Oh, miss, that wouldn’t be appropriate,” he replied.
“But I know many of these old men. I care for them, give them food and clothes. I’ve been unable to locate one particular man who was quite faithful to visit me. It might be him.”
The officer looked to Aunt Miriam as if for permission. The older woman nodded. “It’s most irregular but perhaps necessary. It won’t be easy, Abrianna. The man was beaten about the head. It was terribly severe.”
“I understand.” Abrianna drew in a deep breath and bolstered her courage. “Take me to him.”
Wade had just completed securing a new felloe to the spokes of a wagon wheel when Abrianna burst into the room in sobs. She ran to him and threw herself into his arms before Wade could even put the wooden mallet down.
“What’s wrong? Is it one of the aunts?”
She shook her head and continued to cry. Wade was at a loss. She had wrapped her arms around him and clung to him as if she were a drowning woman. Uncertain what else to do, Wade patted her shoulder and then hugged her close.
“It’s going to be all right, Abrianna. Don’t cry. Just tell me what’s happened.”
She straightened and fixed her teary gaze on Wade. “It’s . . . it’s Charlie.”
“You found him? Is he sick?”
“No.” She barely got the word out before another round of tears took hold.
Wade was now fearful of what she would say. Abrianna had the strength to endure most anything. He had seen her cry only a handful of times, and always it had been something most grave.
“Is he dead?” Wade forced himself to ask.
She nodded, never moving her gaze. “Someone . . . they . . . beat him. Oh, Wade, someone killed Charlie.”
Knowing that he would have to get Abrianna to calm down before he could know the full story, Wade moved her to a chair and made her sit. He retrieved a cup of water for her and held it to her lips. She drank only a little, but it seemed to help. Next Wade handed her his handkerchief, and Abrianna dried her eyes and cheeks. Little by little Wade could see her regain her composure. When at last she was breathing normally and the tears had stopped, Wade felt he could press her for answers.
“What happened, Abrianna?”
She squared her shoulders. “Someone killed Charlie.”
“How do you know this?”
“It happened in our alleyway at the school. Mrs. Madison said one of the men downstairs discovered him. Someone . . .” She paused and seemed to fight to keep from crying again. Her lip quivered and she bit down on it momentarily before continuing.
“He was beaten and left for dead.” She shook her head. “They didn’t know who he was, but I did. I just had a feeling it was him.” Her eyes welled with tears, but she didn’t break down. “The policeman had me identify him.”
Wade frowned, unable to reason the sense in letting an innocent girl view a dead body. “That must have been terrible for you. I wish they could have spared you.”
“I thought I had known sadness and pain before now, but I was wrong. Poor Charlie. He never did anything to hurt anyone.”
“Do they think someone meant to rob him?” Wade asked. The idea of someone setting out to deliberately kill the old man seemed unlikely.
“Charlie had nothing to steal.”
“Someone might have thought he did,” Wade replied. “I’m sure there are men desperate enough to rob even an old sailor. Then again, he may have annoyed someone and gotten himself into a fight. Perhaps he made his way afterward to the Madison Building, knowing he could get help, but it was too late.”
“It makes no sense,” she said. “Charlie was a good man. He was kind to everyone. He did nothing to deserve this.”
“Folks seldom do anything to deserve that kind of a death.” Wade wanted so much to comfort Abrianna, but he knew she had to process this pain, and that would take time. “Do they have any clues at all?”
Abrianna shook her head slowly. “They have no idea. No one heard or saw anything.”
This disturbed Wade even more. “So we have a killer roaming the streets of Seattle.”
“Apparently so.” Her face changed from pain to anger. “I won’t rest until I know who is responsible.”
“You can hardly involve yourself in this.” Wade knew his words were most likely futile. He might as well try to convince his wooden mallet. Even so, the dangers were much too great to ignore. “I don’t want you to be out by yourself anymore, especially not in coming here. Do you understand?”
“I do not,” she answered. “Charlie was our friend. We can’t just sit around and do nothing.”
“Abrianna, whoever did this is dangerous and will most likely stop at nothing. If he’d kill an old man, he’d probably kill a woman just as well. You can’t risk your life. Charlie wouldn’t want it that way, and you know it.”
To his surprise Abrianna hiked up her skirt to reveal the lower portion of her stocking-clad legs. Wade looked away quickly but not before he saw the flash of metal.
“I have a knife,” she declared, and Wade couldn’t help but look back. Abrianna pointed to where she’d strapped a knife to her slender calf. “I can take care of myself. If this murderer attacks me, he won’t find me as helpless as he did Charlie.”
“Abrianna, you cannot fight off a killer.”
“I can, and if necessary I will,” she said, jumping to her feet, knife in hand. “See how quick I can move?”
Wade could think of only one way to prove his point. With the speed of a cat, he lunged at her, knocking the knife from her hand. In no more than a moment he had her encircled with his arms and pinned her backward against him even as she fought his hold.
He easily put his hand to her throat. “Do you see what I’m talking about? A desperate man would do more than this. You can’t risk getting hurt or killed. It would break Charlie’s heart . . . and mine.”
She stopped fighting and her shoulders slumped in defeat. Wade released her. “I’m sorry I was so rough.”
“I hate being a woman. Women are always at the mercy of men.”
Wade hoped she would now talk rationally with him about the matter. Instead, she headed for the door without another word.
“Abrianna, wait a minute. Talk to me.”
She turned with a look he’d never seen on her face. It appeared to be bitterness, almost contempt—but for whom he didn’t know.
“You’ve already shown me I have nothing I can do. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. There’s nothing to be gained by such a discussion.”
9
Kolbein Booth stood in the room watching the young ladies of the bridal school perform as a choir at the Saturday reception. They sang several hymns while one of the girls played the piano and another the flute. The melodious sound was pleasant enough, but Kolbein couldn’t ease his mind no matter how hard he tried.
Somewhere, his sister was lost among the masses of people in Seattle. At least he hoped most fervently that she was still in the city. He hadn’t allowed himself to even contemplate otherwise. The song ended and the girls took their seats while Mrs. Madison walked to the front of the room.
“As you ladies already know, we have received some new bridal prospects into the school.” She motioned three young ladies to stand. “This is Iona, Ruth, and Catherine. I hope you will make them welcome. And gentlemen, I hope you will get to know these three today.”
Kolbein found the entire situation rather silly. Couldn’t people meet each other without the help of a matchmaker? Although he knew from things he’d read that west of the Mississippi women were still less in number than their male counterparts, the cities were by no means deplete. Even so, Mrs. Madison apparently provided a needed service, for the s
chool had served to support her and the others for some years. Perhaps it was the idea that getting a wife who was well trained in the social graces as well as in keeping a house in proper order was worth the money men paid to participate in Mrs. Madison’s receptions and bridal ball.
“You look deep in thought,” Abrianna said, coming alongside him. “Are you thinking about Greta?”
“I scarce can think of anyone else. I fear for her, Abrianna. I cannot lie. The murder of your friend set my heart to even deeper concern.” Her expression looked pained, and he immediately apologized. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reminded you of your loss.”
“No one needs to remind me. I suppose it’s especially difficult because it’s the first loss of a friend. Well, really my first close death. I was too young to remember my mother dying.”
“I can understand how hard this must be. Losing people you care about is difficult on many levels.”
“Just like losing Greta?”
“Exactly so.” Kolbein pulled out his pocket watch. He longed to go searching for his sister, but it almost seemed futile. He had people watching for her all over the city, and he hoped that she would be wise enough to stay away from the worst areas of the town, where a woman was certain to be assaulted, if not killed.
“I know you’re not a rich man,” Abrianna began, “but perhaps if you offered a reward someone might come forward with news. I fear the police in this town are somewhat remiss at times. There have been occasions when our police forces were less than honorable. Not only that, but I find that people generally respond better with an incentive than without, and money always seems to be the one thing that motivates. Of course, that isn’t the way I think things should be done, but no one ever consults me on such matters.” She barely paused for breath, and again Kolbein found himself amazed at how her thoughts just jumped from one to another without any kind of barrier.
“A reward would show people that this was a serious situation, because when money is involved, people tend to get very serious. Perhaps because of the burden it presents either in its presence or its lack. But if I’ve spoken out of turn, forgive me. I didn’t mean to further your burden.”
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