by Linda Daly
As the light filtered into the room when the heavy velvet curtains were being opened, Miranda’s eyes immediately went to the tray. Glancing at the pitcher filled with sliced lemons in the drink and a single glass, and not seeing anything out of the ordinary, Miranda’s eyes trailed back toward Felicity and discreetly shook her head, still not following. While MargaretAnne was busy opening the other set of curtains, Felicity mouthed back to her, “No ice.”
Acknowledging her friend with a nod, Miranda’s mind began to race. Why would no ice be significant? Then as if a candle had been lit in a darkened room, Miranda began seeing the connection. Recalling Daniel’s menacing words, “Where is he?” She knew instinctively the He was Gilbert. But why would both Daniel and Tad want Gilbert? Tad had repeatedly reassured her that all was resolved between Gilbert and him, yet after witnessing Mr. Hobbs threaten Maggie in broad daylight, she knew he had been lying to her. If he has been lying to me now, what else has he been lying to me about?
Such thoughts distressed her and to hide just how upset she was, Miranda rubbed her brow and closed her eyes, as if bothered by the sudden light. Scolding herself for being so sensitive, Miranda took a deep breath while pushing back her insecurities, determined to get to the truth once and for all.
As MargaretAnne approached, Miranda regaining full control of her emotions obligingly said, “Oh that’s much better. Thank you Maggie.” Seeing a faint smile cross the servant’s lips as she returned to pour more of the beverage, Miranda frowned slightly while accepting it. “Oh dear, don’t you have any ice?” she whined, in an exaggerated sigh.
“No, miss.”
“Why that surprises me, considering your brother Gilbert delivers ice and all. Surely, you would think he would see to it that his sister was never without.” Miranda looked at Felicity, in hope that her friend would continue the conversation in this direction. “Don’t you agree?”
“Why yes of course. I had nearly forgotten that Gilbert and Maggie are brother and sister.”
Delighted that Felicity was following her lead, Miranda closely watched MargaretAnne’s every move. From her fidgeting and flushed cheeks, it was clear the servant was becoming more distraught, especially when speaking about her brother Gilbert. Yes, indeed. This definitely had something to do with Gilbert. But what? No longer buying Tad’s explanation of cheating at cards, or Gilbert’s interest in her, Miranda’s mind began to race for a reasonable explanation. Thinking of none, she knew more questions were needed about Gilbert.
“You know, now that I think of it, I haven’t seen him delivering ice at the orphanage lately. Have you Miranda?” Felicity asked as if reading Miranda’s thoughts.
Delighted that she was going to be able to question MargaretAnne further, Miranda continued the charade of cat and mouse and thought pensively for a moment before replying.
“Why no. Now that you mention it, I haven’t.” Directing her attention back to the servant, Miranda asked sweetly, “I trust your brother is well and that everything is all right, Maggie?”
“Yes, quite well. Thank you, miss for asking.” Anxiously looking between them, and obviously looking for a way to end their visit, Maggie said, “Beggin’ your pardon, miladies, I have chores that really should be attended too. So, I’ll be makin’ my leave.”
“Nonsense,” Felicity said. “As we said earlier, we have come here today to see how you are getting along.” Pointing to the settee across from her and Miranda, Felicity gestured for her to join them politely. “Come sit and chat for a spell.” Seeing hesitation at her request, she quickly added, “I insist.”
Obediently Maggie did as she was told, but sat at the edge of her seat all the while nervously patting the front of her skirt. “That was very fine of you both, but Mr. Honeycutt and his Missus drops by every now and then to check up on me,” she said timidly.
“How thoughtful of them,” Miranda cooed. “And does your brother drop by as well?” she asked raising her eyebrow, determined to direct the conversation back to Gilbert.
“No, Miss,” Maggie answered in a low hushed tone looking down at the carpet.
Feeling confident the servant was lying, recalling how her slaves had always done the same when trying to cover up something they had done, Miranda continued to bait her. “He doesn’t? Why that truly surprises me. Surely, Mr. Honeycutt wouldn’t have objections to you having a visitor from time to time. Shall I speak to him regarding this matter, Maggie?”
Hearing Mr. Honeycutt being brought into this, the servant quickly glanced at Miranda and shook her head. “Oh I wish you wouldn’t miss. Mr. Honeycutt never said I couldn’t have visitors.”
“Then why, pray tell, wouldn’t your own brother come to see you then?” Miranda asked, raising her eyebrow. Pausing to give the woman time to think, and seeing she was not going to answer her, Miranda leaned forward and in a concerned voice asked, “Are you certain everything is alright Maggie?”
In a soft tone, Felicity added, “You know Maggie, both Miss Brown and I mean you no harm. We ask you these questions out of concern for your welfare. Especially since we haven’t seen Gilbert for at least a fortnight and now you are saying he doesn’t even come to check on his own sister.”
Still MargaretAnne refused to answer, so Miranda tried another tactic. “Felicity, since Maggie doesn’t seem to trust us, perhaps what we should do is take matters in our own hands. We both agree that something is amiss here, yet I can’t for the life of me put my finger on it … Perhaps the wisest thing to do is contact the authorities.”
Playing along with Miranda’s facade, Felicity said solemnly, “Well perhaps you’re right. After all, we did witness Mr. Hobbs practically assaulting our Maggie right there in Central Park. We can tell the authorities that we heard him yelling, ‘Where is he?’ That is what you heard isn’t it Miranda?”
“Why yes, of course. But if we go to the authorities, won’t that bring more people questioning poor Maggie about her brother’s whereabouts?” Turning her attention to MargaretAnne, she whispered, “Maggie, we both know Mr. Hobbs was looking for Gilbert. Do you really want more people looking for him too?”
Being asked such a question obviously upset Maggie judging by the color of her cheeks, which now matched her red hair. Avoiding eye contact, she mumbled, “Miss, please, I really should be gettin’ back to my chores.”
Leaning closer to the distraught servant, Miranda gingerly held her hand and patted it gingerly. “Alright Maggie, we won’t pressure you, or go to the authorities just yet. But it’s very hard not to be concerned, especially when we see how upset you are. How can we make you see that you can trust us?”
Shaking her head from side to side, and pulling away from Miranda, Maggie said, “There is nothing to talk about, miss.”
Before Miranda had the opportunity to further persuade the obviously frightened woman to speak, a sound from the rear of the house alerted her that the back door had just closed. Rather than react to the sound, or acknowledge she had even heard it, Miranda looked at MargaretAnne and smiled sweetly.
“As you wish, Maggie. But please remember what I said earlier. Mrs. Myles and I mean you no harm and if we can be of help, we will.” Turning her attention to Felicity, Miranda added. “Well I really must get you back to the orphanage if I’m to be on time for dinner at the Honeycutt’s.”
“Oh my, where has the time gone?” Felicity said, looking at her watch pendent pinned to her collar. “Mrs. Honeycutt will never forgive me if I detain you.”
Within moments, the two women made their hasty goodbyes, aware that MargaretAnne was watching them intently as they made their way to the carriage.
As soon as they reached the rig, Miranda sternly whispered to the driver who stood beside the carriage door. “I know you saw who left through the back door, Montgomery, so don’t you dare try to deny it. If you value your position, you will follow him at once. Have I made myself clear?”
The educated Negro driver had always intimidated Miranda from the first moment s
he had met him years earlier, but never as he did now. His dark eyes were cold and piercing and sent shivers up her spine, yet she forced herself to show no fear, returning his icy glare.
“Montgomery, I’m warning you. Either you do precisely what I say or you will be looking for a new position by sundown. Now you tell me, what’s it going to be?” she asked, while turning to wave at MargaretAnne and praying silently that Montgomery would do as she asked.
Relief filled her as she heard the servant reply, “As you wish, miss. But Mr. Honeycutt is not going to like this.”
Saying not a word, Felicity followed Miranda into the rig. Once they were on their way, she whispered, “Are you sure this is wise? Before long the sun will set and we won’t be able to see a thing.”
Shaking her head, Miranda said defiantly, “Nope. But how else are we to get to the truth?” Turning to look along the street edge, she squinted against the bright sun that was starting to set. Placing her hand above her brow, she looked frantically from side to side hoping to see a man hiding in the bushes.
“How did you know Montgomery had seen anything? And if he did, how did you know it was a man?” Felicity asked, while looking also.
Nervously Miranda chuckled. “Well, in all the years I’ve known Montgomery, never has he stood by the rig waiting. Normally he sits on the buckboard. I just guessed he would have noticed something peculiar and had stepped down to investigate. And I was right wasn’t I? As for a man, I just figured it had to be Gilbert. As soon as I heard the door, it made sense to me why MargaretAnne was acting so strangely. He was probably listening to our every word, and when we threatened notifying the authorities he took off.”
“Yes, I tend to believe that was the case too. But why the urgency in following him tonight? If we should find him, have you thought what we’re supposed to do then? We still haven’t a clue as to why Tad and Mr. Hobbs are after him.”
“I’m not sure …” Pausing to look at her surroundings, she directed her attention to Montgomery. “Why are we heading back to Central Park?”
“You said to follow that gentlemen, didn’t you, miss?”
Squinting and looking straight ahead, Miranda couldn’t see anything. “Where, Montgomery?” she whispered hoarsely to him. Without responding, Montgomery began pulling softly on the reins and drew the rig to the side of the road, just as they entered Central Park. Then stepping down off the buckboard, he opened the door to the rig, and whispered, “Miss, if I can see him, he can see you. Step out so I can latch up the cover.”
Extending her hand so he could help her out of the carriage, Miranda looked into the driver’s eyes and softly said, “Thank you, Montgomery. Will you kindly tell me where he is precisely? I promise I’ll be discreet,” she said reassuringly.
“To my left, between Boulevard over yonder and that evergreen.” Nodding politely to her, he then extended a hand to Felicity who took it and stepped out of the carriage as well.
As Montgomery lifted and secured the canvas roof of the hansom carriage, both women waited by the side of the rig and began adjusting their gloves and parasols, discreetly looking in the direction Montgomery had said Gilbert was hiding. From where they stood sheltered by the rig, they could not see anything but shadows around the evergreen and a trail of rigs that had pulled up along Boulevard and the entrance to Central Park. Frustrated, they watched as more carriages passed, unable to see the man hiding among the bushes.
“Are you sure he’s still there Montgomery?” Miranda whispered. Peering across the street into the park she gasped. “Wait, I think I see him … Yes right next to the tall blue spruce! What is he doing? Is he going to cross Boulevard and head the other way? Oh dear, we’ll lose him if he does. See him Felicity? It is Gilbert, isn’t it?”
“Miss, stay behind the rig or he’ll see you,” Montgomery scolded, offering his hand to Felicity to help her back inside the covered carriage.
As Felicity entered, her eyes scanned the area and seeing what the others had, she whispered, “I see him. Yes, I do believe it is Mr. O’Flaherty.”
Gazing around the back of the cab, Miranda shooed her driver away as he tried to assist her into the cab as well. “Wait Montgomery!”
As the three watched—Gilbert—who was in full view, darted across the busy street and into oncoming traffic. Just as he did, shouting from another carriage rang out. “There he is!”
The three of them watched in horror as the man on foot began running with the carriage following closely behind. Miranda, so caught up in seeing Gilbert trying to outrun the carriage, held her gloved hands to her mouth. “Run Gilbert,” she whispered, unable to move from where she stood, seeing the driver crack his whip to force the horses to run faster as they bore down on Gilbert trying to escape.
Her heart beat quickened in fear and she screamed into her gloves biting her own finger, seeing the horse and carriage run over Gilbert. Turning from the scene and leaning into the carriage, she shook her head as tears ran down her cheeks. “Dear God, no! They’ve killed him.”
“Hush up miss, or they will see you!” Montgomery ordered in a hoarse whisper.
Turning toward to the street, she saw the carriage that had trampled Gilbert make a sharp turn, which would pass directly by them. Holding her breath, Miranda knelt down behind the back wheel of the buggy next to Montgomery. From her vantage point she recognized the driver and his passenger at once and gasped. The driver, Daniel Hobbs, so busy maneuvering the rig onto the road that led into the park, did not notice her, nor did his passenger, Tad. Both men, preoccupied at leaving the scene of their crime and assessing if they had been successful in running the man over, called out to one another as the hansom cab sped past them.
“Is he moving? Did we get him?” yelled Daniel.
“We got him alright,” replied Tad as he pulled himself back into the covered front of the cab and lowered his hat shielding his face from any onlookers that might see him. “Now get the hell out of here, before we are spotted!”
Shaken to her core, witnessing such a deliberate and brutal attack, Miranda looked at her driver and asked, “What should we do?”
Standing he whispered, “Nothing! We wait here for a few minutes to make sure Master Honeycutt doesn’t return then we head back to the orphanage and forget what we just saw.”
“No!” spat Miranda, jerking away from her driver who was trying to get her back inside the carriage just as Felicity stepped out.
“I agree, Miranda. Come follow me …” Before the Negro driver could stop the two women, they dashed across the street and cut across the park to the other road where they found Gilbert moaning softly on the side of the street. As other carriages passed—apparently not seeing the injured man—the two women on the verge of hysteria began to run to him but stopped suddenly seeing the shadow of another man step out from behind another blue spruce.
“Miranda and Felicity, I wouldn’t do that if I were you!”
Startled to hear their names being called, the two frightened women grasped hold of the other’s hand.
“Who’s there?” called Miranda, adjusting her eyes to the dusk. As the man drew nearer, they both sighed in relief seeing James Sterling approaching them.
“Oh James, it’s you. Thank heavens! There has been a dreadful accident and we need your assistance,” Felicity urgently called to him. “Our iceman, Gilbert O’Flaherty, has just been run down. Please help us,” she sobbed.
By this time Montgomery had joined the two women, stood off to the side and nodded to Mr. Sterling. Judging by the look of concern on the hired help’s face, Miranda felt it necessary to try to explain. “Mr. Sterling, I insisted Montgomery bring us here … And as you can see it’s a good thing we did. Time is of the essence if we are to help Mr. O’Flaherty. Won’t you please come see what we can do for him?” she begged, turning to go to Gilbert who was still lying curled up along the side of the road.
“Miranda I beseech you, turn around. You and Felicity go back to your carriage at once and for
get everything that has happened here tonight.”
Stomping her foot, Miranda said defiantly, “No! Are you mad? That man was injured on purpose. For all I know he could be dying and I will not turn my back on him. Now either you assist me or I’ll do it myself. But by God, I will not just stand by and watch him die and do nothing!”
“Please James,” Felicity chimed in with her friend, looking at him sympathetically. “Won’t you please help him? Surely, you saw how he was run down.”
Taking a drag of his rolled cigarette and then dropping the butt to the ground and putting it out with his boot, James looked at Felicity then at Montgomery and said, “Help me get him over to my cab.” He pointed to a carriage parked on Boulevard not far from where Gilbert lay.
“No, sir. I will not do that and risk being brought into this mess.”
“Oh but you could be persuaded to, if the price were right. Couldn’t you Montgomery?” James proclaimed in a suggestive tone while glaring at the man, as only a man can, who knows another could be bought. Not waiting for his response James anxiously directed his attention back to Felicity. “You and Miranda wait in the coach while we tend to your friend, Felicity.” Seeing the two of them hesitate, he said, “Please. I promise, I’ll take care of everything.”
“Fine, but take him back to the orphanage so we can tend to his wounds. That is if he’s still alive,” she meekly said.
“That’s too risky! What if he doesn’t pull through?” protested James.
Glancing at Miranda then back at James, Felicity said, “Well, if Mr. O’Flaherty doesn’t pull through, I will be forced to tell the authorities everything we saw. Including the fact that you saw Mr. Hobbs and Tad run that poor man down in cold blood just as we did, and did nothing to stop them. On the other hand, if I can help him, all will be forgotten, now wouldn’t it?” From her look, James knew she meant what she said.