by Blythe Baker
Alice advanced towards a pigeon, her hand held out as though she had food in her palm, and when the pigeon came close, she reached out as though to grab it with both hands. I almost called out for her to stop, but the bird flew away before I had to intervene. As soon as the bird was gone, Alice turned quickly to look over her shoulder and see whether anyone had been watching her. I looked down at the ground, smiling. She was playing the role of a woman, but a child still lived in her breast.
Graham nodded slowly, stepping even closer to me as we ambled along, his elbow brushing my arm. “I do not know either of them well, but it seems Charles Cresswell has a calming effect on Catherine, as well.”
“I know Charles just as well as you do,” I admitted. “But Catherine has admitted as much to me. To my surprise, she is infatuated with the man. That isn’t to say he is not worthy, only that I imagined my cousin with a much less genial man, if we are speaking frankly.”
“May we always speak frankly to one another, Rose.” Graham smiled down at me, nose wrinkled.
That fluttering feeling made itself known again, and I crossed my arms over my stomach to fight it back as Graham continued.
“When Catherine spoke of their meeting last night, it seemed as though they had only known one another a few weeks,” he said.
“That is my understanding, as well.”
Graham paused, looking out over the water. Then, he tucked his hands behind his back. “They moved rather quickly. Do you know if there is a reason for that?”
I snapped my attention to him. “Are you asking me if Catherine had a physical reason for getting married so soon?”
It took Graham a moment to understand my meaning, during which time I realized that I had misunderstood his question. His face went red. “No, of course not. I would never do her the dishonor of suggesting that. I didn’t mean—”
“My mistake. I misunderstood,” I said kindly. “Catherine has not told me any specific reason other than that she loves him deeply, and I can tell from the way he looks at her that the feeling is mutual.”
“They do seem to be very in love,” he said. “Though, I do wonder whether it is possible to really know someone in such a short amount of time. He is older, so perhaps he is in more of a hurry than he would be if he and Catherine were the same age. Of course, I don’t want to insult their relationship by speculating.”
“Catherine would never forgive you for suggesting their forthcoming nuptials have to do with anything other than true love, but as you said, may we always speak frankly with one another,” I laughed. “However, I do believe love is more than the amount of time you’ve known a person. It is possible to meet someone and know they are for you, and it seems that is what happened when Charles first saw Catherine.”
I could feel Graham looking down at me, waiting for me to meet his gaze, but I did not. Instead, I watched Alice drop a rock into the river and then turn around and wave for the two of us to join her. I walked towards her immediately and Graham followed, a small smile playing on his lips the rest of the afternoon.
When he delivered us home, Alice hugged him, thanking him for one of her favorite days in the city so far. He assured her the pleasure was all his and then dipped his head to me. “Enjoy your book, should you find it, Rose.”
He stepped across the threshold and onto the porch, but before the door could close, Aunt Sarah walked down the stairs.
“Leaving so soon, Mr. Collins?”
Graham stepped back inside and grabbed the hand she extended to him. “Not if you wish for me to stay.”
“Such a charmer,” she said, winking at me. “I would not want to keep you from any plans you may have this evening.”
“I don’t know anyone else in the city, so my social calendar is quite thin,” he admitted.
Aunt Sarah clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Unacceptable. Such a dashing man should be on the scene, and if you are up for it, I will introduce you this evening.”
Graham looked to me at the same time Aunt Sarah turned around. “I thought you would want to come, as well, Rose. I should have mentioned it sooner, but one thing you will come to learn about me is that I am scattered.”
“To say the least,” Alice whispered, earning a scathing look from her aunt. She quickly dashed up the stairs, stifling a giggle.
“Come where, exactly?” I asked.
Aunt Sarah laughed. “Right, of course. It is a party held by a dear friend of my late husband’s. All the best of New York society will be there, and I’d love for you to make an appearance. With your youth and looks, you’ll be the talk of the party. Another thing you will learn about me is that I love being the talk of the party. And since you are staying with me, I’ll have the pleasure of introducing you to everyone. What do you say?”
I could practically hear the books calling to me from some hidden room in the back of the mansion. My feet ached from walking all day, and I felt weary down to my bones, but Aunt Sarah was grinning up at me hopefully, and even Graham looked excited at the prospect. And Aunt Sarah was letting me stay in her house indefinitely even though she was not my aunt at all. Attending one party with her seemed like the least I could do.
“It would be nice to meet more friends inside the city.”
Aunt Sarah clapped her hands and wrapped her arm through mine. “We must get you ready at once. We’ll leave in a few hours.” Then, she turned to Graham. “And you will be her escort, won’t you? You two make such a lovely pair.”
Graham’s eyes twinkled when he looked at me. “It would be my honor.”
I’d been looking forward to a quiet evening alone—I’d had dreadfully few of those in the last year—but if attending one party would make both Sarah and Graham happy, how could I refuse? Besides, another opportunity to see Charles Cresswell interacting with his peers would be useful to my investigation.
Aunt Sarah practically pushed Graham through the door, telling him to go put on whatever he had that was best and return in an hour. Then, she dragged me up the stairs, telling me she had just the gown for me to wear. Once again, how could I refuse?
8
The party was held only a few blocks from Aunt Sarah’s house in a mansion quite similar to hers. Guests filled the space more easily than I would have imagined, and it forced one to remain close to one’s group or be separated. Staying close did not seem to be a problem for Graham. His body was pressed against my arm from the moment he saw me standing in the entryway of Aunt Sarah’s house.
The gown Aunt Sarah had for me was the nicest thing I’d ever worn, and both Catherine and Alice complained that she had never offered it to either of them.
“Because you do not have the right figures for it,” she argued. “You are both beautiful, but Rose has the small chest a dress like this requires.”
Aside from the embarrassment I felt about my family discussing my intimate body parts, I felt gorgeous in the gown. It was gold and shimmery with flowers beaded into the silk. The top cut low across my chest, revealing more of myself than I was usually comfortable with while still remaining appropriate, and the bottom ruffled out in a fuller skirt that ended below my knee. I wore a pair of white t-strap heels that wrapped around my ankle and carried a matching beaded handbag.
Graham’s mouth slacked open when he saw me, and he didn’t pick it up until we arrived at the party and the large number of guests distracted him. Even still, he couldn’t stop complimenting me whenever I caught his attention.
“You are the most lovely woman in the room,” he said over the sound of many conversations and live music that was coming from somewhere deeper in the house.
“You look wonderful, too,” I said.
He wore a double-breasted tweed suit in a checkerboard pattern with a red tie and pocket square. In his Lieutenant uniform, he looked honorable and proper, but in civilian clothing, he had a new kind of mystery. I noticed women staring at him as we moved through the room, and it made it so I didn’t mind him standing so close to me.
Even though Aunt Sarah and I weren’t related, it seemed I had a little bit of her in me. I didn’t mind being the talk of the party.
Alice was not having as nice of a time. Since she did not have a suitor, she walked through the party on her aunt’s arm, looking longingly at every couple she passed. At one point, I even saw her staring at her sister and Charles Cresswell without the usual disgust she seemed to reserve for them.
Charles, on the other hand, seemed to have overcome his strangeness from the night before. He kept one arm firmly around his beaming fiancé while he shook hands and spoke with everyone he passed. It was obvious he was a very well known and well-respected man in the city.
“I’m not accustomed to being around so many people,” Graham said, scanning the room. “Simla seems quite small compared to this.”
“Surely you are not so easily overwhelmed,” I said, surprised by the flirtatiousness in my own voice.
He raised an eyebrow and extended his hand. “Surely not. Would you care to dance?”
Before I could accept, Alice rushed over and grabbed my hand. “Save me, Rose.”
“From what?” I asked, looking around, expecting a villain to be lurking nearby.
“Aunt Sarah,” she whined. “I can’t meet a man with her on my arm. She treats me like a child. Let me stand with you and then everyone will be looking at me.”
I was about to tell Alice that not everyone was looking at me and that she did not need to find herself a man, but before I could, Catherine joined our group. She leaned in so close her lips were almost pressed to my ear. “Charles is talking with several colleagues. Come join us and pay attention.”
“Is something the matter?” I whispered back, averting my eyes from Alice’s disapproving stare. She hated being left out of anything.
“Not yet,” Catherine said breathily. “But you are here to help me, not dance.”
I didn’t see why I couldn’t do both, but I turned to Graham with an apologetic smile. “My cousin thinks I should be introduced before any fun can be had. But I will claim that dance later.”
“I will join you,” Graham said, offering me his elbow.
“You do not have to,” I said, almost hoping he wouldn’t. Investigating Charles would be easier without Graham standing next to me as a distraction.
“I would be delighted to,” he said. “Besides, your aunt seemed to think we should stick close together for a bigger impact on the party.”
So, I followed Catherine through the crowd to where Charles was smiling and laughing with his friends, all of whom were at least fifteen years older than myself and Catherine, with Graham at my side and a pouting Alice trailing behind.
“Charles, dear,” Catherine said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “May I interrupt to introduce my cousin?”
Charles stepped aside, allowing the four of us to enter the circle. “Of course. Gentleman, this is Rose Beckingham and Graham Collins. They only arrived in New York yesterday morning and are already meeting the likes of you all, so be kind to them.”
The men all laughed in unison, and Graham joined in, seeming more comfortable than I’d ever seen him. In Simla, he had been cautious in social settings, careful not to draw too much attention to himself or stand out, but he seemed different in New York. He smiled easier, and I felt the city had already had a positive effect on his social skills. I wondered whether he wouldn’t be disappointed when the time came for him to return to India and his duties.
“I have vowed to never leave New York again,” one of the men said to Graham. “I get terribly seasick and the food on those ships is hardly edible.”
“Those are as good of reasons as any to settle down,” Graham said. Then, he patted my hand. “Rose has travelled from Bombay to London, from London to Morocco, Morocco to Bombay, and Bombay to New York all within the last nine months.”
The men in the circle looked at me, eyes wide.
“Whatever for?” a gray-haired man asked.
Speaking of the bomb that killed my family didn’t seem like good party conversation, so I just smiled. “Travel keeps one from growing bored.”
Catherine patted my back and nodded, clearly relieved I hadn’t launched into the details of my life with this group of her future-husband’s friends, and honestly, it was nice to not have to endure the sympathetic smiles they certainly would have offered if I’d told them the truth. Perhaps, New York would have a positive effect on me, as well.
Many of the men, mostly American, were interested in Graham’s service as Lieutenant in the British army, and they quizzed all of us on the ways life in England differed from that in America.
“I’ve been in America long enough now I can hardly remember my life in London,” Charles said.
“But you go back for frequent visits, right?” Catherine asked, an edge of worry in her voice.
Charles must have noticed her concern, as well, because he pulled her into his side and kissed her temple. “We will travel back as often as you like, Katie. Anything to make you happy.”
The gray-haired man, whose name I’d learned was William Brown, stepped forward, head shaking. “With the way things are going, you may want to stay in America permanently.”
Catherine’s eyebrows drew together. “Why is that?”
“With Germany showing early signs that it may be once again on the rise.” He shrugged, as if that explained it all.
“Surely, there won’t be another war,” she said. “They wouldn’t be so foolish.”
“Power can make anyone foolish,” Charles said solemnly. Then, he gripped Catherine tighter. “But you should not worry. William has always been a pessimist about such things.”
“And I’m usually right,” William said.
“That is up for debate,” another man in the group said, clapping his hand on William’s shoulder.
“Germany has been admitted into the League of Nations less than ten years after the end of the war. If that does not worry you in the slightest, then you are all fools,” William said.
“To being fools!” one man shouted, raising his glass in the air.
I didn’t have a glass to raise, though I wasn’t sure I would have toasted to something like that. Graham must have had the same thought and leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Would you like a drink?”
I smiled and nodded, and for the first time all evening, he left my side.
Without him pressed against me, I noticed Alice standing on the edge of the circle talking to a young man who looked to be in his early-twenties. Alice laughed at something he said and reached a hand up to twirl her hair before realizing she had cut it short and letting the hand fall to her side. I vowed to keep a close watch on her. I wanted to trust her judgment, but as much as she insisted she was a woman, she had enough child left in her for me to worry.
“I think forgiveness is a practice carried out far too little by men in power,” Catherine said. “Ten years seems like a great deal of time to me. I did many things ten years ago I wouldn’t dare do today.”
Suddenly, a thin elderly man in a red velvet suit pushed his way into the circle. I immediately knew he had to be someone important because the men jostled to make room for him, and every eye seemed fixed on him.
“Time works differently between people and countries,” the man said sharply. “Especially when the person in question is young.”
Catherine’s cheeks colored, and though I expected her to respond in defense of herself, she lowered her head and stood closer to Charles’ side.
The man continued. “As an old man, it does not seem so long ago that I was at the Paris Peace Conference seeking out the appropriate punishment for Germany. And yet, even those weak financial punishments have been renegotiated twice since then.”
“Though Germany needed to pay for their crimes,” William said, “Europe and the world are better when they are not crippled under restitution.”
“Their crimes,” the man mused, eyes foggy and focused on the ceiling. “I wonder if you wou
ld feel differently had their crimes affected you more personally.”
William, who had seemed so staunch a debater only moments before, seemed to shrink from his words, and not long after, left the circle entirely. In fact, the group of men slowly began to slip away, finding different excuses for why they had to leave.
“Less than ten years of struggle is not justice,” the old man continued, as though talking to himself. And based on the way the group of men had disintegrated around him, he almost was talking to himself. In a fit of irony, I wished Graham were nearby to offer me an easy method of escape.
At that moment, Aunt Sarah emerged from the crowd and walked straight for our group.
“Mr. Rooker,” she said, greeting the old man. “I meant to introduce you to my new house guest, but it seems you have already met.”
“Not officially,” I said, stepping forward, noting that Charles and Catherine slipped away from the group the moment the attention had been shifted to me.
Aunt Sarah looked pleased and threw her arm around my shoulders. “This is Rose Beckingham. She is the niece of my sister, though I claim her as one of my own.”
The man extended a hand to me, and I took it. He had papery skin, and his fingers were ice cold. “Albion Rooker,” he said.
“Lovely to meet you,” I smiled.
“This is Mr. Rooker’s home,” Aunt Sarah clarified.
My eyes widened in understanding. “Your home is beautiful. Thank you so much for having me. Had I realized who you were I would have—”
“Run away like everyone else,” he finished, mischief hiding in his milky white eyes.
I laughed more out of a sense of discomfort than any real desire to laugh. When Graham returned, he briefly shook hands with Mr. Rooker, smiling wider when he was introduced as my date for the evening. Then, before the conversation could take off again, Aunt Sarah turned to Graham and took his hands.
“Would you oblige an old woman and dance with me, Mr. Collins?”