The Pursuit of Lucy Banning,A Novel (Avenue of Dreams)

by Newport, Olivia

  Charlotte laid her son on her grandmother’s quilt spread out on Lucy’s bed and began to bundle him up. She didn’t try to stop the tears that moistened her cheeks. Even though she was in Lucy’s suite, the sound of the door opening made her jump.

  Lucy closed the door behind her.

  “What if I don’t like her, Miss Lucy?” Charlotte choked on the thought. “How can I be sure she’ll take good care of him?”

  Lucy put an arm around Charlotte’s shoulders. “You’re his mother. Of course you’re worried. But the name Mr. Emmett gave me is someone who has cared for several infants in the past. I haven’t met her, but I’ve seen the children when they’re old enough to come to the orphanage. They’re happy and healthy.”

  Charlotte stroked the baby’s cheek. “I knew this was going to happen, and I know it’s the best thing I can do for Henry right now, but it’s so soon! He’s barely five weeks old. All of a sudden I have to give him to a stranger.”

  “You can see him,” Lucy assured her. “Has Penard settled on your regular day off?”

  “Thursday.” Charlotte’s throat thickened. “As soon as luncheon is prepared, I’m free to go.”

  “Then you can see him every Thursday and every other Sunday afternoon when you’re off. I’ll make sure Mrs. Given understands that Henry has a mother who loves him.”

  “That’s her name? Mrs. Given? Her real name?”

  Lucy nodded. “Mary Given.”

  Charlotte picked up her bundled baby and sat on the edge of the bed with him. Lucy opened an armoire and removed several folded flats of fabric from the center shelf.

  “This is our excuse,” Lucy said. “Daniel brought these back from his last trip to New York. I told Mother I want you to help me take them to the dressmaker.” From the bottom of the armoire, Lucy took a basket. “You can make Henry comfortable in here, then we’ll cover him with fabric while we go downstairs. You can carry him. Aunt Violet’s carriage is outside.”

  “Do we have to go now?” Charlotte asked. “A few more minutes—”

  “I’m sorry, Charlotte,” Lucy said softly. “I can only imagine how hard this is for you. But we must go now or I won’t be able to help you.”

  Charlotte’s reply was hoarse. “I can’t do it by myself.”

  “You don’t have to. But we must go.”

  15

  Paddy asked no questions. With his assistance, Charlotte stepped into the silk-covered interior of a sleek carriage fancier than anything she had ever imagined. Lucy sat across from her, and Paddy closed the beveled glass door that shielded them from the outside world. Charlotte’s family rarely traveled, and when they did they rode in a simple farm wagon older than Charlotte. Since arriving in Chicago, Charlotte had walked everywhere. In fact, this was the first time she had left the Banning household since beginning her employment. She had followed careful instructions to find the Banning house and had little reason to try to navigate an intimidating city beyond its walls.

  Charlotte had eyes only for Henry. Once inside the carriage, she cleared the fabrics away from his face and lifted him out of the basket to kiss his eyelids, his cheeks, his tiny curled fingers. Clear blue eyes returned her gaze, trusting eyes, secure eyes. That could all change in a few minutes.

  Lucy pushed up the silk window shade. “Charlotte, you must watch where we’re going if you’re ever going to find your way here on your own.”

  Charlotte forced her stare away from her son and out the window. Miss Lucy was right, of course. Charlotte would go see Henry at every opportunity. She couldn’t afford to lose her way and waste precious minutes.

  “I’ll give you the address,” Lucy said. “It looks like it should be simple to use the streetcar down Michigan Avenue and then walk just a few blocks to the west.”

  “Yes, Miss Lucy.” Charlotte choked back a sob. “I’ve never even been on a streetcar.”

  “It’s not difficult. Perhaps I’ll be able to go with you the first time.”

  “Would you really do that for me?”

  Lucy reached forward and put her hand on Charlotte’s knee. “I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you see your baby.”

  For a long time, they didn’t speak. Charlotte looked out the window, trying to soak up landmarks that would reassure her when she made this trip on her own—shops and signs and railings and homes. The opulence of the Prairie Avenue neighborhood yielded to a more commonplace existence, and finally to a row of diminutive houses set snugly up against each other and close to the road. With an almost physical pain, Charlotte realized this was not a neighborhood used to seeing the likes of a Banning.

  “Perhaps you should just let me out here,” Charlotte said.

  “Nonsense,” Lucy answered. “I’m going to be sure Henry is properly settled.”

  Finally Paddy tightened the reins, and the speckled mare obediently slowed and stopped.

  “This is it,” Lucy said.

  Charlotte assessed the structure that would be her son’s home. The house was narrow across the front and clad in large gray shingles. Three wooden steps led up to a small porch. On each side of the unpainted door was a square unshuttered window. Below the porch, the browned remains of a flower bed now past its season recalled a splash of beauty, a whisper of hope.

  Charlotte followed Lucy out of the carriage, aware that movement in the immediate vicinity had slowed with their arrival. It was Miss Lucy they were gawking at, she was sure, or the handcrafted wood and iron carriage with a uniformed driver. Charlotte glanced at Lucy, who smiled at a couple of people and never let on that she was out of place here.

  Inside, the house lived up to its outside promise. Four simple rooms were sparse but clean.

  Charlotte judged Mrs. Given to be about forty.

  As if reading her thoughts, Mrs. Given explained, “I’m a widow. I was married for twelve years, but my husband died several years ago in an accident at work. He worked for Mr. Pullman, who is not always as careful about his employees as he should be.”

  Charlotte threw Lucy a glance. George Pullman lived in the next block from the Bannings. The families went to each other’s parties. Lucy, however, gave no indication that the barb affected her one way or the other.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Lucy said quietly.

  Mrs. Given continued. “We never had children of our own, so it gives me pleasure to look after little ones. I have a sitting room, two bedrooms, and a kitchen. The children stay together in the second bedroom.”

  “You have other children?” Charlotte had not pictured Henry with other children.

  “Don’t worry. I don’t have any other babies just now,” Mrs. Given said. “I’ll be able to feed and care for your son. I do have two toddlers—twins, actually—who have been with me since they were very small. They’ll soon be ready to go to the orphanage or be adopted. The neighbor is looking after them so we can talk.”

  Charlotte was still standing, clutching Henry to her chest.

  “Why don’t you sit down,” Mrs. Given said, “and I’ll answer any questions you have.”

  Charlotte chose the overstuffed red armchair. The fabric was worn, but the seat felt solid. Lucy sat across from her on the dark green settee, next to Mrs. Given, and smiled encouragingly. In the corner of the room, Charlotte saw a small oak table with three mismatched chairs. A cross-stitched sampler of the Lord’s Prayer hung on the wall above the table, and a half-finished quilt draped over one chair. Striped curtains on the windows gave the front wall a splash of color. All in all, the room was not unlike the home she’d left behind less than two weeks ago—small but functional and clean.

  “We don’t have electricity in this neighborhood,” Mrs. Given said, “but I have plenty of gas lamps.”

  Charlotte nodded. She’d never had electricity, either, until arriving at the Banning house. On the farm they still used kerosene lamps.

  “Charlotte, what questions would you like to ask Mrs. Given?” Lucy prompted.

  Charlotte roused herself t
o sound like a competent mother. “You have clean water?”

  Mrs. Given nodded. “Yes. It comes right into the kitchen, though I have to heat it for baths. And you won’t see a rat in my home.”

  A rat! Charlotte hadn’t thought about that.

  “An icebox to keep food fresh?” Charlotte asked.

  Mrs. Given nodded. “The iceman comes on a regular schedule. I don’t abide spoiled food.”

  “I don’t mean for Henry to be adopted out.”

  “Mr. Emmett has explained your situation,” Mrs. Given said. “I know you love your little boy.”

  “I’m going to come and see him.”

  “Any time you like.”

  “I’m off on Thursdays and every other Sunday afternoon.”

  “I shall expect you, then.”

  “Can I see his bed?” Charlotte asked.

  “Of course.”

  Mrs. Given led the few steps to a small bedroom that opened off the sitting room. “The twins have outgrown their crib,” she explained. “I’ve put them in their own little beds just recently, so you can see I have room for a baby.”

  Charlotte ran her hand along the top rail of the wooden crib. So far her son had slept in a carpetbag and a dresser drawer. Here he would have a real bed! And he wouldn’t be a dark secret.

  “I’ve brought his quilt,” Charlotte said, her voice catching. “It’s what he’s used to. It was my quilt when I was a baby.”

  “Then I’ll be sure to take good care of it.” Mrs. Given held out her arms. “May I see the baby?”

  Charlotte flashed a look at Lucy, who nodded. The moment had come. She had to give her son to another woman to care for. No longer could she steal away from her work and sneak up the stairs to breathe his sweetness, to comfort herself with the feel of him in her arms, to stroke his smooth cheek or feathery head. She would have to survive on the anticipation of his nearness on a rigorous schedule.

  Exhaling slowly, Charlotte laid her son, quilt and all, in the arms of Mrs. Given. She couldn’t help but smile as the older woman cooed and Henry waved his arms and kicked against the blanket in response. With all her heart she wanted to believe Henry would be all right here.

  Lucy touched her arm and spoke softly. “I hate that we can’t stay longer, Charlotte, but—”

  “I know,” Charlotte said, nodding. “Mrs. Banning thinks we’ve gone to the dressmaker’s shop.”

  “We’ll still have to go there. We can’t take all that fabric back into the house. Mother is sure to ask Lenae about it the next time she sees her.”

  Charlotte continued to nod, but she could no longer speak. When she left the simple house and climbed back into the ornate carriage, her arms and heart were empty.

  Will first recognized the horse, then the carriage, then the driver feeding the mare an apple. “Hello, Paddy,” he said.

  Paddy tipped his hat. “Good day, Mr. Edwards. What brings you downtown today?”

  “Just taking a stroll to enjoy the decorations. Chicago is certainly proud of the fair,” Will answered. He glanced around the street of shops. “Is Miss Newcomb shopping today? I thought she would be at her sister’s getting ready for tonight’s festivities.”

  “She is,” Paddy answered. “It’s Miss Lucy who got a sudden bug to see the dressmaker.”

  “Miss Lucy?” Will scanned the nearby shops for the dressmaker’s sign. “It seems like a busy day to have a dress made.”

  Just then Lucy and Charlotte emerged from the shop. Lucy’s shoulders drooped, and Charlotte looked trampled. Both of them kept their eyes on the sidewalk, their hats nearly perpendicular to the ground. Will wondered what could possibly have happened in the dress shop to make them look the way they did.

  “Hello, Lucy,” Will said.

  Lucy’s head lifted, but her smile seemed strained. “Oh, hello, Will.”

  In her soft acknowledgment, she seemed neither surprised nor pleased to run into him. Charlotte stood discreetly behind her.

  “Paddy tells me you’ve been to the dressmaker’s shop,” Will said guardedly.

  Lucy nodded. “Daniel brought me some imported European silks from James McCreery and Company in New York City. I’d like Lenae to do something with them for the holidays.”

  “I see you’re thinking ahead as usual.”

  Lucy did not return his grin, nor seem inclined to converse or banter. Will looked from Lucy’s face to Charlotte’s and back again. “I don’t mean to pry, but is everything all right?”

  “Yes, of course,” Lucy said quickly. “It’s just been rather a hectic time. We’ve been anticipating the fair dedication for so long, but I admit I’ve found the hustle and bustle a bit exhausting.”

  Will nodded. “Yes, I suppose so. Your family is quite invested in the affair. Will you attend the fireworks tonight?”

  “Yes, Daniel wants to go very much. I begged off from hearing any more speeches today, but I did promise to go to the fireworks.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be spectacular.” Will examined Lucy’s face for any sign of sincerity.

  “No doubt,” she said. “But I’m not suitably dressed, and Daniel will be arriving soon. Charlotte will have her hands full trying to make me presentable.”

  “Then I won’t detain you further.” Will stepped aside. “It was lovely to run into you again.”

  “Lovely to see you as well,” Lucy said, but her voice was flat.

  Paddy held the door open, and Lucy and Charlotte climbed into the carriage. Will stood firmly on the sidewalk and watched Paddy secure the door, climb to his own seat, and click his tongue to get the horse moving. As the carriage pulled away, Will shook his head. Whatever was wrong was getting worse by the day. Yesterday, Lucy had seemed anxious. Today she was stricken. And now he was convinced Charlotte knew Lucy’s secret as well.

  16

  Lucy kissed both of Irene Jules’s cheeks a week later. “It’s so good to see you,” she said. “Thank you for inviting me to dinner.”

  “You know you don’t have to wait for an invitation,” Daniel’s mother responded. “You’re always welcome. The one drawback to living in Riverside is that we don’t see the Bannings nearly enough. I always mean to get into the city more, but somehow it doesn’t happen.”

  Lucy scanned the room. “I see you’ve redone the parlor since I was here last. It looks delightful.”

  “We’re still waiting for some handcrafted cabinetry, but that’s coming soon.”

  Daniel touched Lucy’s elbow and gestured toward the baby grand piano at the far end of the room. “I insisted they have a Steinway so you can play whenever you come.”

  “Oh yes,” Irene said. “Daniel says you’ve gotten very good with your private studies.”

  Lucy smiled. “I admit I enjoy it. I’ve had to let the lessons go, though. Lately, there doesn’t seem to be enough time in the week for a lesson, much less sufficient practice to please my teacher.”

  “How is the work coming on the women’s building?” Howard Jules asked. “I suppose that’s one of the things taking up your time.”

  “It’s fascinating! It’s one of the most rewarding experiences I’ve ever had. I’m working alongside some amazing women.”

  “Your mother tells me you’re also spending quite a bit of time at St. Andrew’s these days,” Irene commented.

  Lucy was modest—and truthful. “I’m doing what I can. I wish I could spend even more time.”

  “Ah, but you have a wedding to plan,” Irene said. “It does make for a busy life.”

  “We took the train out tonight,” Daniel informed his parents. “It was Lucy’s idea.”

  “How modern of you,” Irene said. “We go everywhere by carriage.”

  “I’ve taken the train to New York and Boston several times, of course, and to Lake Forest,” Lucy said. “I thought it might be fun to get a flavor of what it’s like for shorter distances. I find it more efficient than a carriage.”

  “If you miss the last train back, you’re welcome to s
tay the night,” Irene said. “Goodness knows Daniel stays at your house often enough.”

  Lucy returned Irene’s smile. Irene was like a second mother to her, and Lucy guarded many fond memories over the years. However, she had no intention of missing the last train back to the city.

  “Do you think your parents have any idea about the surprise anniversary party?” Howard asked.

  Lucy grinned genuinely. “Not an iota. Leo and Oliver have covered every contingency. We just have to wait until November 12 and spring it on them.”

  “I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces.”

  The Jules’s butler appeared and announced that dinner was served. Irene took Lucy’s arm.

  “I asked for all your favorites tonight,” Irene said. “Our cook’s red velvet cake is heavenly! Save room for a nice thick slice.”

  Lucy was doing her best. When she had dressed for the occasion, she let Charlotte select extravagant accessories and experiment with a new hairstyle. In a favorite gown, she hoped the evening would brighten her spirits. Howard and Irene Jules were gentle, well-meaning people, and Lucy was sincerely fond of them. However, the conversation over dinner made her progressively more restless. Predictably, discussion drifted toward wedding plans—Irene suggested a September date, after the heat of summer had passed—and the details of choosing an architect and planning the layout of a home. An innocent enough remark from Irene was the final undoing for Lucy.

  “Just think,” Irene said, “a year from now you could be ordering furniture for a nursery in your new home.”

  Lucy turned up the corners of her mouth wanly and avoided Daniel’s glance. She had no thought of a baby of her own, but she couldn’t help thinking of Henry and the ashen color of Charlotte’s face during the last week. For days Charlotte’s body had reminded her every few hours that it was time to feed her child, and she couldn’t. Lucy knew her maid was physically uncomfortable as well as emotionally distraught and had made every excuse she could think of for Charlotte to seek shelter in Lucy’s suite. But the excuses were running thin, and they both accepted it was time for Charlotte to make more of an effort in the kitchen again.