Hush Now, Don’t You Cry

by Rhys Bowen

  “So you’re a friend of our esteemed patriarch, are you?” Terrence asked as I pulled on first one shoe then the other.

  “I’ve never met him,” I said. “It was my husband who received the invitation and I’m not sure how they are connected. Daniel’s family lives out in Westchester and knows a lot of influential people.” I remembered that Daniel had avoided mentioning his profession and thought it wise to follow suit.

  “Sullivan,” he said thoughtfully. “I don’t think we’ve ever met. But then I rarely find time to get out to Westchester. I am expected to keep my nose to the grindstone, slaving away at the family firm, which I am supposed to take over some day—even though I keep pointing out that my father’s generation kept their noses to the grindstone precisely so that I wouldn’t have to. But the word leisure is considered obscene in this family.”

  I stood up, my shoes now safely on my feet and my skirts hiding the offending ankles. The way that he stepped out to meet me convinced me that he’d been peeking the whole time.

  “Are you Brian Hannan’s son?” I asked as we set off together through the pine wood. “I thought he only had one child.”

  “He does. The exquisite Irene. You haven’t met her yet then? I think I saw her arriving a while ago. Oh, yes, an only child and raised like one to have everything she wanted. A spoiled little miss and hasn’t changed. Can still arrange the odd temper tantrum like a two year old if she doesn’t get her own way—even though she’s now past thirty.” He grinned at me wickedly. “Of course she has received her just desserts—married to the horribly boring Archie because she wanted his distinguished name. The man hasn’t an interesting or novel thought in his head and has never done a day’s work. It’s all about polo and sailing and the occasional flutter on the gee-gees. All the expensive sports and luckily Irene’s money allows him to live in the lifestyle to which he is accustomed.”

  “Isn’t his family rich in their own right?”

  “Used to be. Bad business decisions and too many idle sons like Archie. Oh, no, it was a marriage of utter convenience to both. He got the money, she got the name and the stature that goes with it. So both, we hope, are satisfied and deserve each other.”

  “So if you’re not Brian Hannan’s son—”

  “Joseph’s my father,” he said. “But it’s Uncle Brian who pulls the strings in this family, and controls the purse strings too. When he tells us to jump, we jump, even my father who is technically a partner in Hannan Construction. Of course he lacks in Uncle Brian’s fanatical work ethic. And his tastes are more expensive. I seem to have inherited that weakness—” He broke off. “I say, I shouldn’t be revealing the family skeletons to a stranger, should I?”

  “My lips are sealed,” I said, making him laugh.

  Suddenly we heard a voice calling “I think I see them!” and a young woman came running through the trees toward us. She was dressed in a severe dark blue dress, almost looking like one of the Salvation Army ladies and had an equally severe pale and haughty face. She looked startled then stared at us in disgust.

  “Oh, it’s you. I didn’t think that even you would stoop as low as going off into Uncle’s woods with some woman.”

  “How lovely to see you, Eliza,” Terrence said. “And as usual you’ve gotten the wrong end of the stick, seeing degradation where there is none. This lady is a guest of Uncle Brian’s and I have just risked life and limb climbing down the cliff to rescue her from being cut off by the tide.”

  The haughty face flushed. “Oh, I am so sorry. It’s just that my brother—well, his behavior is not always what one would wish and when I saw you I naturally assumed…” She held out her hand. “I’m Eliza Hannan.”

  “This is my dear sister,” Terrence said. “As you can see from her clothing, she has taken after our mother and has devoted her life to good works among the poor.”

  “Molly Sullivan,” I said frostily. “And I really must examine the way that I dress, since this is the second time I’ve been taken for a lady of ill repute since I arrived on this property.”

  “Oh, no, there is nothing wrong, I assure you,” she gushed, her face bright red now. “It was a hasty judgment knowing the wild ways of my brother. I’m sorry you’ve had an ordeal on our beach. The tide does come in quickly, doesn’t it?”

  I nodded, still unwilling to let go of this latest slight. I hoped the rest of the Hannan family would not be so unwelcoming as these first members.

  “Mrs. Sullivan’s skirts are cold and wet, so if you’ll excuse us, Liza dear. I’m escorting her back to the guest cottage, where she and her husband are staying.”

  “Of course,” Eliza said. “Off you go, then.”

  “What were you shouting about anyway?”

  “Thomas and Alex. They are missing and Irene is in a terrible state, after—well, you know.”

  At that moment there was more blundering through the bushes and crunching of leaves and a man came running up to us. “Have you found them yet?” he asked breathlessly, then he noticed me and looked at me inquiringly.

  “No, we haven’t seen them,” Terrence said. “But we were down on the seashore and there was no sign of them there.”

  “Thank God,” the man said. He was immaculately dressed, hair perfectly parted in the middle, and had the pale face and light hair of Dutch ancestry, drawing me to the conclusion that this was indeed Archie Van Horn, the boys’ father.

  “Little devils,” he said. “That new nursemaid cannot control them. Absolutely hopeless. They run rings around her and poor Irene is distraught.”

  “I’ll help you look, as soon as I’ve escorted Mrs. Sullivan back to the guest cottage,” Terrence said.

  “Oh, please don’t concern yourself about me,” I said. “I am quite able to find my own way. It’s more important that you look for the missing boys.”

  “Mrs. Sullivan and her husband are Uncle Brian’s guests,” Terrence said, noticing Archie’s questioning stare.

  “She got caught by the tide,” Eliza added. “And Terrence rescued her.”

  “Dashed dangerous place,” Archie said. “Don’t know why we come here. I don’t know why Irene’s father still likes it here so much, and insists on our joining him. But Irene will never disobey her father. Just because I’m planning to compete in a yacht race this Saturday he insisted we all come up to watch. Frankly I’d rather have come up alone and stayed at the yacht club. Whoever heard of using the cottage in October? Ridiculous idea. We are probably the laughingstock among the usual crowd.”

  “Have you found them yet, Archie?” a high voice floated through the woods and an exquisite creation in pale blue silk joined us. Her red-blonde hair was piled on her head in tiny curls and her wide blue eyes looked terrified.

  “Not yet, my dear, but don’t worry. They can’t have gotten far. They’ve only been gone a few minutes.”

  “A few minutes is enough,” Irene said. “How could that incompetent woman let them slip away from her? She only has one job and that’s to guard my boys. You must fire her as soon as we get home, Archie.”

  “I will, my dear. But in the meantime…”

  I had moved away from the group feeling awkward and superfluous in such an intimate family setting. As I walked through the undergrowth, I thought I heard something. It could have been a bird, but it sounded like a giggle. Up in an old oak tree I spotted a foot.

  “You’d better come down right away. You’ve frightened your poor mother,” I said sternly. “Come on. Quickly now or it will be straight to bed with no supper for you.”

  Two little boys slithered down sheepishly. They looked to be about eight and ten years old and they were dressed in identical sailor suits that were now the worse for wear.

  “Here they are!” I called. “They were hiding in a tree.”

  Irene rushed over to them, her arms open. “Thank God, thank God. You naughty, naughty, naughty boys. You made Mama so frightened.” Irene enveloped them in a big hug, holding them to her bosom and rocking them fier
cely.

  She looked up at her husband as he strode angrily toward them. “Speak to them, Archie. Make them understand that they must never do this again.”

  “You’ll get a damned good thrashing if you ever do that again, do you hear?” Archie said in a not-too-threatening voice, as Irene released her hold and the boys wriggled free.

  “Yes, Papa,” the boys muttered.

  “Archie, they are just little boys. Be gentle with them,” Irene begged, trying to embrace them again.

  “They need discipline, Irene. They are running wild.” He wagged a finger at the boys. “Now off to the house with you and get cleaned up before you meet your grandfather. You look a disgrace.”

  “Yes, Papa,” the boys chimed in unison, but I got the impression that they knew no threat would ever be carried out.

  They ran across the lawn toward the house.

  “Thank God,” Irene said again. “When I couldn’t find them, I thought—”

  “They are boys, Irene,” Archie said. “They need some freedom. You can’t keep them wrapped in cotton all their lives.”

  “I can and I will. If I have to follow them every second we are here, then I’ll do it to keep them safe.” And she started after them across the lawn. She stumbled on the wet grass. Archie took her arm to steady her but she snatched it away as if burned.

  “I think I’d better let you go back to the house. I can find my own way from here,” I said to Terrence and Eliza who were watching with expressions both pained and embarrassed. “I had tried to avoid meeting the family in this disheveled state. I’d prefer not to come face-to-face with Alderman Hannan himself, so if you don’t mind…”

  And without waiting any longer I took my leave.

  Nine

  As I approached our cottage a procession was coming down the drive—a cart piled high with boxes, valises, and baskets—followed by an open carriage full of male and female servants. An automobile was sitting outside the front door. It appeared that the family had arrived in force.

  Daniel had been sitting in the bay window and jumped up as I opened the front door.

  “Where have you been? You’ve been gone for hours. I’ve been worried about you.”

  “I’m sorry. I thought you’d be sleeping. I was on the seashore and then I met some family members and joined in a search for two little boys, whom I found hiding in a tree.”

  “Such adventures,” Daniel said. “I’m sorry I missed them. So these boys—they were the alderman’s grandsons?”

  “They were. Thomas and Alex. Nice little chaps from what I could see. Their mama was most distressed.”

  “Well, she would be, wouldn’t she? If she’d already lost one child over that cliff. So did you meet the alderman too?”

  “No, thank heavens. I wouldn’t have made too good a first impression with my skirt in this state, would I?”

  “You’re soaked. What have you been doing to yourself?” he demanded.

  “Only got a little wet while I was wading in the ocean. Nothing serious,” I said. “So stop scowling like that. I’d better get to work right away sponging out the salt water or it will leave a mark.”

  Daniel shook his head. “Who else’s new bride would spend her first day on a great estate getting herself half drowned in the ocean?”

  “It was nothing like half drowned. I was looking into a tide pool and I was caught unawares by a particularly big wave.” In his current state of agitation I thought it wiser not to let him know that I had allowed myself to be cut off by the tide.

  “Now that you’re back, I’d like some hot tea,” he said. “And could we maybe light a fire? This place is cold and damp. I’m shivering.”

  “It doesn’t feel that cold to me,” I said, going over to feel his forehead. He actually felt quite warm to my touch. “But I’ll light a fire if you like. There is a log basket all ready and we’ll have a nice cozy evening.”

  Half an hour later we were sitting by a crackling blaze with hot tea and toast. I looked across at Daniel and the thought struck me—this is what I have to look forward to—cozy afternoons doing nothing in particular, just enjoying each other’s company. It was a pleasant prospect.

  “So I told you that I met some of the family, Daniel,” I began brightly, because I wanted to cheer him up.

  “Did you?” he asked without great enthusiasm.

  “I did. The alderman’s daughter, Irene—very lovely and dressed in the height of fashion, and her equally suave and dashing and upper-crust husband, Archie. I also met their cousins Terrence and Eliza, who are Joseph’s children. Terrence is a likable rogue, I suspect. Typical Irish gift of the gab with an aversion to work, and his sister is quite the opposite—looks like a Salvation Army lass and does good works. So does their mother, I understand, which might explain why she’s not here.”

  “And why Joseph brings a younger diversion with him.” Daniel chuckled. The chuckle turned to a hacking cough. I looked at him with concern.

  “That cough sounds terrible. You really have caught a bad chill.”

  “And I always pride myself on my strong constitution.” He put his handkerchief up to his mouth as he coughed again.

  I got up. “I’ll go up to the big house and see if they have a chicken or stewing beef,” I said. “You need a good strong broth,” I said.

  “Don’t bother. I’m sure I’ll be right as rain in a day or so,” Daniel said. “It’s just a question of letting these things work their way through the system.”

  “Nonsense. I want you back to your normal self as quickly as possible,” I said. “I’m missing out on my honeymoon. It’s no fun without my husband to share it with me.”

  “It’s almost dark. Go carefully then,” he called after me.

  The temperature had dropped with the sunset and I grabbed a shawl for my shoulders before I set out across the lawns. Lights were now twinkling from the big house, making it no longer so intimidating. Nevertheless, I had no wish to encounter the alderman or any of the family members again without Daniel present so I veered around the side of the house, looking for a servants’ entrance. As I made my way past the fountain, I heard the click of a lock and turned to see someone coming out of one of the French windows that ran along that side of the house. In the half darkness all I saw was a tall slim shadow of a man. He hesitated, looked around, then strode purposefully away from the house and into the darkness. Terrence slipping out for a drink before dinner at a local watering hole, I thought.

  Eventually I came upon a back door, opened it, and entered to find myself in a dark, narrow passageway. Good cooking smells led me to a door on my left and I found myself in the kitchen where we had taken tea. The room was empty but pots were bubbling away on a stove.

  “Hello!” I called. “Anyone there?”

  Nobody appeared. I looked around for a larder. There was no pantry door inside the kitchen so I went back out to the passage again and started opening doors. The first was a broom closet. The second was locked, the third was a servants’ dining room, unused and in darkness. I encountered nobody as I poked around. Where had they all disappeared to? I found myself glancing nervously over my shoulder as I worked my way down the hall. A fourth door was recessed into the wall. I opened it and gave a little scream as I encountered a face literally a few inches from mine. I stepped back with a gasp of horror as the apparition said in an angry voice, “Mrs. Sullivan. Whatever were you doing?” And Mrs. McCreedy stepped into the hallway. She was breathing heavily and her hand was on her large bosom as if she too was recovering from a shock.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I was looking for the larder.”

  “The larder?” she was eyeing me suspiciously. “Was the icebox over at the guest cottage not well stocked then? I thought I made sure you’d have all you needed.” She was still gasping as if she had run a race.

  “Yes, thank you. The food is wonderful,” I said. “It’s just that my husband has come down with a bad chill and I thought so
me kind of broth might be just what he needed. So I came over to see if you had a chicken maybe or some stewing beef or even some bones.”

  “Bones?” She was staring at me impassively.

  “To make a broth. I believe we already have onions and carrots at the cottage.”

  “I’ll see what I can do for you,” she said coldly.

  “Do you do the cooking when the family is here?” I asked, trying to melt the icy freeze that seemed to have developed between us. “There are some wonderful smells coming from that oven.”

  “I’m cooking the meal tonight but I expect the alderman will be bringing his own cook from the city. He has a French chef, from Paris, you know. Very particular about his food, he is.” She walked ahead of me back into the kitchen and then opened another door behind a curtain. This one led to a scullery containing an enormous icebox. “I’ve chickens here but they are for tomorrow night’s dinner,” she said. “I suppose I might spare you one.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you could. I’ll go into town and buy one tomorrow to replace it,” I said.

  “Well, all right. They are only little poussins and I expect I have enough here for one each for the meal, if more family members don’t turn up out of the blue.” She reached in and lifted out a pathetic-looking little body. It hung limply in her hand, the head still attached and drooping to one side. Then she opened a drawer with the other hand and brought out a piece of greaseproof paper.

  “I hope your husband feels better,” she said, wrapping it deftly and then tying it with a piece of string.

  “I won’t trouble you any longer. I can see you’re busy.” I started toward the back door again.

  “Mrs. Sullivan,” she called after me.

  I turned back.

  “What are you really doing here?” she asked. “Did somebody send you?”

  “What are you talking about? I told you that the alderman made the invitation to my husband.”

  “I see,” she said. “It’s just that, well, yesterday I caught you snooping around the house on your own and now again today. And I certainly don’t expect to find guests of the master poking around in the servants’ quarters.”