by Maddy Barone
Mrs. McGrath gave a gentle lady-like titter. “Lucky. I suppose you might call it luck.”
Rose looked up at the subtle acid notes in the elder lady’s voice. “I don’t—I mean…” She cleared her throat. “What do you mean?”
Mrs. McGrath stirred sugar into her tea and offered Rose the plate of cookies. “Nothing at all, my dear,” she said vaguely. “How are you settling into Omaha?”
Relieved at the change of topic, Rose took a sugar cookie. As she bit into it, she noticed her hostess watched her eat with one brow elevated. Rose shifted on the chair, wondering if eating the cookie was gauche, or if she’d spilled tea down her front. No, there was no stain on her blouse. She placed the cookie on her saucer, forced the bite down with tea, and rushed to fill the silence.
“I think I’ll like it here.” That was a lie, but a polite one. “Omaha is so interesting. I love the library. I was just there this morning. I’m so happy that books can be checked out. And I went shopping with Tasha. She’s a bus…I mean, uh, she works for Sky. I’m not used to so many stores. It’s very nice,” she finished lamely.
Mrs. McGrath was gracious enough to ignore her nervous babble. “Tasha. Tasha Aker?”
Surprised and relieved, Rose shrugged. She wasn’t sure what Tasha’s last name was. “She’s about five foot eight, with thick dark brown hair, mid-thirties. Do you know her?”
“Certainly I do. My son Ryan was engaged to be married to Tasha Aker.”
Rose blinked and glanced around, but the portraits of the McGraths’ son weren’t in this room. Sky had told her to not speak of Rye Thomas and she had to force words back. “But he died?”
“They broke off their engagement a week before…” The older woman pressed her napkin to her lips with trembling fingers. “It was quite terrible.”
Rose shifted in her seat again, trying not to stare at her hostess’ obvious distress. “What happened?”
Mrs. McGrath placed her teacup in the saucer with exquisite care and set it on the table. She leaned forward and by the intense look on her face, Rose thought this was why she had been invited to visit. Mrs. McGrath wanted to talk about her son. “Fifteen years ago was a terrible time for my family. Actually, it started earlier than that. My daughter Anna was fifteen years old when the former mayor asked my husband for his permission to marry her.”
Rose remembered hearing about that when she was here for supper. It still freaked her out. “That seems a little young,” she said, trying to be both polite and honest.
“That wasn’t as important to my husband as getting ahead politically.” Mrs. McGrath clutched her napkin so tightly her knuckles showed white. “Mayor Belsy did treat her well, I have to admit that. He doted on her. When she became pregnant, he was ecstatic. Ryan, however, was not happy at all. His little sister was one of the people he loved.”
It was none of her business, and Rose knew she had no right to criticize, but she couldn’t help asking. “Did Anna want to marry Mayor Belsy?”
“No, she did not. But her father thought he knew what was best for her. And what he thought was best for her furthered his political career.” Mrs. McGrath looked directly into Rose’s eyes. “Don’t let your husband make those kinds of choices for your children.”
Rose couldn’t imagine Sky doing anything like that, and if he ever tried, she wouldn’t need to stop him. The Pack would do it for her. She wondered if Mrs. McGrath had tried to stop her daughter’s wedding, but she couldn’t ask that. In fact, none of this was any of her business. Why was Mrs. McGrath telling her all this? “No, you can be sure Sky would never do anything like that.”
“No.” The older lady smiled, something in her face sad. “I’m sure Mr. Wolfe wouldn’t sell his daughter for any reason.”
To Rose, ‘Mr. Wolfe’ was Taye, and any man who did the slightest thing to cause Patia the tiniest distress would die. “Was Anna happy? You said her husband doted on her.”
Mrs. McGrath lifted her cup for a delicate sip. “At first, she was frightened. Her husband tried to be kind to her, I’m sure. He was well established and had plenty of money to make her comfortable.” She examined the dregs of tea in her cup with the corners of her mouth drooping sadly. “It takes more than money and a comfortable life to make a marriage work. Maybe if Anna hadn’t become pregnant immediately they would’ve had time to develop a strong marriage. But at sixteen, and with her hormones out of control because of the pregnancy, Anna was an emotional wreck.”
Rose cast an uncomfortable glance at the door. Part of her was swamped with sympathy for the mayor’s wife, and part of her wanted to escape. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.”
Rose set her cup down and wondered if it was too early for her to take her leave.
Her hostess lifted the teapot and poured her another cup. “As I said, my son Ryan loved his baby sister. He and his father had such angry arguments about Anna’s marriage. And then when she died trying to give birth…” The old woman shook her head slowly, pulling a dainty handkerchief from her sleeve. “They had the worst fight of all when Anna was barely cold in her grave.” Tears welled and were blotted away with the handkerchief. “The Women’s Acts were on the verge of being passed. Ryan disapproved of the new laws and he didn’t hesitate to tell his father so. He said that if Timothy had any regard for womanhood, Anna would still be alive.”
Rose took a sip of the tea and looked at her hostess over the rim of the cup. “Did he think that Anna wouldn’t have died if she hadn’t married so young?”
“That’s exactly what he thought. And he was right. Anna was too young to give birth. She bled and bled until she didn’t have enough blood left to survive.”
“That is terrible.” Rose agreed with Ryan completely. It could have happened even if Anna had been twenty-five or thirty, but how horrible for her mother to lose a daughter in such a way at only sixteen. “I just can’t imagine how you must’ve grieved.”
Looking down at her lap, the mayor’s wife whispered, “Losing my daughter was the worst thing that ever happened to me in my life. Losing my son only three months later was just as terrible.”
Rose remembered the trader Rye Thomas, his sun-bronzed face under a mop of brown curls. “How did he die?”
The narrow shoulders rose helplessly under the green dress. “He is dead to us. My husband threw him out. Disinherited him. Told him he would be arrested if he ever came back to Omaha.”
Rose bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying she’d seen Rye Thomas and he was alive and well. “You still have his pictures on the wall.”
“Yes. My husband has taken my daughter, my son, and my legs from me, but he can’t take my memories away.”
Her legs? Rose automatically glanced at the green skirt covering the legs in question.
Mrs. McGrath noticed with a twisted smile. “It was an accident. I fell down the stairs a few days after Ryan left.” The gentle voice was faintly shaded with bitter sarcasm. “So unfortunate that I lost my balance and my husband wasn’t able to catch me. I broke my pelvis in three places. My left femur was broken, and my right ankle was shattered.”
Rose flinched. In the space of a few months the woman’s daughter died, her son was thrown out, and then she was horribly injured, and it sounded like she blamed her husband for all of it. Rose didn’t doubt he was responsible.
“That’s terrible. Simply terrible.” Rose rubbed a thumb over one of the amethyst chunks in her bracelet. “Have you heard from Rye at all? I mean, Ryan?”
“Not a word.”
Rose twisted her bracelet, grinding an amethyst into her wrist to control her urge to blurt out that she’d met her son. “How sad.”
“Yes.” There was a long silence until the mayor’s wife sighed. “What a pretty bracelet.”
“Thank you.” Relief made her a little more effusive than normal. “Sky gave it to me a few years ago for my birthday. Or, no, for Christmas. I think.” She giggled nervously, a silly sound she seldom made. “I can�
��t remember. He always sent me presents for my birthday and at Christmas.”
“He seems like a sweet young man.”
Rose barely kept from snorting. She coughed gently instead. “Yeah, he’s sweet all right.”
“You must love him very much, to have waited for him all these years.”
Like she’d had a choice. “Yes,” she lied.
“That’s so sweet.” Her eyes unfocused. “I loved my husband once. He was quite a handsome man then. I stupidly believed he loved me too. He didn’t, of course. What he really loved was this house, and the power and comfort it gave him. I inherited it from my father, you see. It had been a museum in the Times Before, but Father took it over during the Terrible Times and made it into a veritable fortress. It is elegant and comfortable, but also very secure. That’s the reason Timothy married me, to have a home that was secure, and grand enough to awe the masses. Even at twenty-one he was ambitious.”
“Oh.” Rose tried, but couldn’t find another word to say.
Mrs. McGrath leaned forward to pat Rose’s hand. “You must be ready to leave. I confess I’m a bit tired this afternoon, and in need of a nap. I’ll ring for Davidson to have your man bring your carriage around, shall I?”
That was sudden. “Sure.”
The mayor’s wife rang a hand bell and Mr. Davidson responded at once. In only a few minutes Mayor McGrath came to escort her to her carriage. Rose said polite things to both the McGraths. She was so glad to be leaving that she allowed the mayor to take her hand to place it on his arm to escort her outside. He paused on the steps leading down to the sidewalk to lift her hand to his mouth and kiss it. Rose gritted her teeth and forced a smile. The smile lasted until she felt his tongue touch the back of her hand. She jerked her hand away so violently she almost lost her balance.
The mayor gave a chuckle that struck Rose as an audible leer. As if nothing had happened, he walked her to the carriage. He offered her a steadying hand, and she forced herself to take it while she climbed in. He smiled at her as if he were a fond uncle, said a few polite phrases, and went back into his house.
“Thank God that’s over,” she muttered.
“Ma’am?” said Sal Hudd over his shoulder from the driver’s seat.
“Nothing. Let’s go home.”
Strange. Calling The Limit home seemed right. The carriage had only rolled a yard or so before her hand flew to her wrist. “Oh, no! Stop! I’ve lost my bracelet. It must have fallen off.”
She scrambled down before the carriage came to a complete halt and retraced her steps up the walk to the front door, searching the ground for the gleam of gold or the flash of purple. There. Under the window beside the porch. It must have come loose when that disgusting man kissed her hand.
She walked over the thick, neatly mown lawn to the low shrubs below the window, and stooped to pick up her bracelet. As she paused to examine the clasp, she heard the mayor’s voice coming from the window above.
“So, did she whine about her terrible situation?”
There was none of the condescending near-flirtation in the mayor’s voice, only cold disgust. Rose froze, still crouched beneath the window, not sure if she should move.
Mr. Davidson’s crisp tones came next. “Mrs. McGrath did tell Mrs. Wolfe of the happenings so many years ago.”
“Of course she did,” the mayor drawled sarcastically. “My dear wife never misses a chance for a little sympathy. At least she appeared sane this afternoon. I suppose the young woman fell all over herself to show my wife how she pitied her.”
“Mrs. Wolfe was polite.” The butler sounded matter-of-fact. “However, I did not think she appeared anything but uncomfortable.”
“Did Mrs. Wolfe say anything about her husband’s plans?”
“Nothing, sir.”
The mayor grunted. “That damn rabble-rouser always says that women are equal to men, but he doesn’t tell his wife anything? Either she’s better at holding her tongue than most women, or he doesn’t put his money where his mouth is. Things are getting tense and the blame for it can all be laid at his feet. I should have gotten rid of him years ago.”
“Certainly, sir.” The butler’s voice was cool, as it always was. “You will be dining tonight with Mr. Askup. Will you wear the blue suit or the brown?”
Rose heard the mayor mumble something and when he spoke next his voice was distant, as if he were moving away from the window. “I think the blue. Terry has secured a young lady for entertainment, and the ladies seem to like blue better than brown.”
“Shall I accompany you?”
“No, I won’t need a bodyguard tonight. I’ll go through the labyrinth to the dungeon. I’ll be safe enough.”
Rose stayed huddled close to the ground until she was sure both men had left the room. She had to tell Sky about this. He probably already knew how the mayor felt about him, but she had to tell him just in case he didn’t. It made her feel sick to her stomach. When the mayor said he should’ve gotten rid of Sky years ago, did he mean murder? What else could he mean?
She straightened and walked carefully and quickly back to the carriage. She climbed in holding the bracelet so tightly the chunks of amethyst hurt her palm. Mr. Hudd looked at her with his brows pulled together in a slight frown.
“Mrs. Wolfe?” he asked.
“Let’s go home,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “Let’s just go home. Hurry, please.”
Chapter 14
When she arrived at The Limit, Sky was out. Of course he was out. He was always out. When would they ever have time to actually talk to one another? She’d been in Omaha for days and they’d barely said hello. She paused in the doorway of the busy kitchen where Mrs. Nord and her helpers were making supper and getting tonight’s treats ready. Her fingers tapped rapidly against the wood doorframe while she thought about her lack of interaction with Sky. That was on him, not her.
Rose gave the kitchen a vague wave as she passed through to go upstairs to her room. Sky wanted her. There could be no doubt of that. He was simply very busy right now, doing whatever he needed to do for the upcoming council vote. She shoved a hand into her pocket and clenched the broken bracelet. When the vote was over he would take the time to court her.
Wouldn’t he?
“Rose.” Ms. Mary caught her just as she picked up the lamp to go upstairs. The elderly lady was panting slightly. “Sheila isn’t able to work tonight. I don’t know what we’ll do without her.”
Rose tried to remember which of the women Sheila was. “Oh, no. What does Sky say?”
Ms. Mary put an age-spotted hand over her heart. “He’s still out and we don’t expect him back until seven or eight o’clock.” She smiled when Rose made a helpless gesture. “And you’re wondering why I’m bringing this to you when I’ve dealt with this sort of thing for years.”
“Well, yes.”
“My dear, you’re Sky’s wife. You’re the lady of the house now. That’s why you should sit at the foot of the table while Sky is at the head.”
“Well, uh, I see.” But Rose didn’t. She didn’t want to be in charge of a house of prostitution. Yeah, the girls here seemed content, but whatever anyone called it, it was still a whorehouse.
Ms. Mary touched Rose’s arm. “May I give you some advice?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“You’ve been acting like a guest, not the lady of the house. I’ve seen how Tanya and Zoe annoy you with the way they hang on Sky. Don’t let them get away with it. Put them in their place and make sure they know you won’t tolerate their behavior.”
Rose stared, struck by Ms. Mary’s description of her behavior. The older woman was right. She drifted around the house without acting like she had anything to do with it, or with Sky. She was trying too hard to be polite and friendly. She nodded. “Thanks. Now, about Sheila, what do you want me to do?”
“I hope you can fill in for Sheila for a few hours tonight.”
Fill in? Rose’s eyes stretched so wide it almost hur
t. Sky might be pretty much ignoring her, but there was no way he’d like for her to fill in for one of his girls. “I-I don’t…Sky wouldn’t like…”
“Sheila is a waitress,” Ms. Mary said. When Rose let out her breath in a relieved whoosh, she laughed. “Heavens, you didn’t think I meant for you to entertain an appointment, did you? You are absolutely right: Sky wouldn’t like that.”
A few hours later, Rose stood in the mudroom outside the kitchen, wearing a white blouse and a black skirt. She listened carefully as Tracy and Jes, the other two waitresses, told her what the job consisted of.
Jes, tall and queenly with long golden-blonde hair, gave her an encouraging pat. “It’s not hard. We’ll give you as much help as you need. Savedra and Jocelyn trade off at the piano, so they can probably lend a hand, too.”
“Sheila usually took drink orders, but I’ll handle that tonight,” Tracy said. She smoothed a lock of brown hair behind her ear. “All you need to do is carry the hors d’oeuvre tray around and offer it to our guests. When the tray starts looking empty bring it back to the kitchen and trade it for a full one.”
Rose was pretty sure she could do that. “How much do we charge?”
“For the snacks?” Tracy shook her head. “Nothing. The hors d’oeuvres are complementary. We make our money on the drinks. That’s why I’ll do that tonight. It might be too confusing for you on your first night as a waitress to have to make change.” She laughed a little. “Of course, this will probably be your last night as a waitress.”
“I hope so,” muttered Rose.
Ms. Mary poked her head out of the kitchen and smiled at them. “There you are. You look very nice, Rose. You and Sheila must be about the same size. You’re a few inches taller, though. That skirt is just a tish short on you, but not inappropriately so. Are you ready?”
Rose brushed her hand over the side of her waist where her knife hilt usually sat. The skirt’s hem hit her about three inches above the knee, which was shorter than any skirt she had worn in eight years, but it was the lack of a handy blade that made her feel naked. “I guess so.”