by Renee Yancy
“Oh, for pity’s sake, Otto.” Vera shook her finger at Jack. “Whatever designs you have on my daughter, Winthrop, you may forget about them right now. Leave this house and never return. Do not attempt to contact Evangeline in any way, or I will have you arrested.”
“Vera, please—” Otto wrung his hands. “There’s no need to be so rude, surely.” He threw an apologetic glance at Jack. “I’m sorry, Winthrop.”
“Leave. Now.” Vera bared her teeth in a feral snarl. “Or shall I call the butler to escort you out?”
Jack planted his feet and stood his ground. He hadn’t pictured himself asking for Miss Lindenmayer’s hand in marriage like this. He turned toward Otto. “I love your daughter, sir. I want to marry her. I intended—”
“Be silent!” Vera heaved herself off the sofa and took a step toward him, the heavy jowls of her neck quivering. The lapdog growled at him menacingly. “I don’t doubt you’d dearly love to marry Evangeline, but it will never happen.” She sneered at him. “She’s meant for someone far above your common station.”
“Is she?” Jack turned on Vera. “How well do you know your own daughter, madam? She loves me and I her. We intend to be married, and you won’t stop us.”
Vera laughed. “You’ve already been stopped, sir. I intend to speak to your uncle about your less than honorable intentions here.” She picked up a weighty vase from the side table. “Now get out.”
When he didn’t move, her eyes flattened, and her knuckles tightened on the vase.
“You’d best leave, Winthrop,” muttered Otto.
Without a word, Jack turned and left. The door had barely closed behind him when the vase smashed to smithereens against the door.
***
The butler stepped forward from behind a potted fern where he’d obviously been listening.
“Allow me to show you the way out,” the man said, with no expression on his smooth face.
Jack nodded curtly and followed him through the massive hall, his footsteps echoing off the marble floor. When the bronze doors shut behind him with a final clang, he stood for a moment, trying to control his breathing. On the sidewalk, he turned and gazed up at the mansion, wishing he knew which room was Miss Lindenmayer’s. Only yesterday, she had consented to marry him, and joy unspeakable had filled his heart. And now he stood outcast on the sidewalk. How had things changed from day to night so quickly?
He barreled along the sidewalk, hardly noticing his surroundings as his thoughts whirled. What should he do? What could he do?
Mr. Lindenmayer hadn’t seemed angry. Should he start with him? Write a letter and request a private interview? His boots ate up the blocks as he continued to ponder the problem. Perhaps he should have gone immediately to Mr. Lindenmayer and pleaded his case before Mrs. Lindenmayer had had time to interfere. But from what Miss Lindenmayer had intimated about her mother, it didn’t seem likely she would have consented anyway.
He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Should he seek advice from his uncle? Jack clenched his fists. What a coil.
People streamed around him bundled up against the cold in woolen mufflers and mittens. He had ended up on Sixth Avenue at Fourteenth, in front of Macy’s department store. Red silk bunting and swags of holly decorated the huge display windows. Children stood with noses pressed against the cold glass. Porcelain dolls hung from string danced in the air overhead, while underneath a toy train merrily sped along its track past a tiny village, pulling its cars with the red caboose at the end, complete with a waving signalman.
Across the street, the scent of cinnamon kuchen and sweet almond paste wafted from the German bakery. The elevated streetcar zoomed past, adding the clacking of its wheels to the bells that jingled on the horse-drawn carts. Even though many ministers preached against it from the pulpit, the promotion of Christmas was in full swing. Everywhere about him were smiles and laughter, while inside his heart had turned as black as the lump of coal some parents threatened their children with on Christmas morning.
Chapter 29
Her bedroom had become her prison. The kitchen sent up meals, and when the maid delivered them, a manservant accompanied her to ensure Lindy didn’t escape. It had been murder to get out of her corset by herself the first night. Even Claudine wasn’t allowed to attend her. Periodically she tried the door, but it remained locked.
Her window overlooked the garden. But when she raised the sash, the snow-covered ground lay so far away she grew dizzy. She couldn’t jump that far. An unfamiliar man in servant’s garb walked into view and looked up at her window. She gasped and pulled her head inside. Her mother had stationed a guard below her window!
How could her mother do this? Did she actually think she could force her into this marriage?
Lindy paced from bed to chair to writing desk and back again the second day, trying to formulate a plan. She had to get a message to Jack. Why hadn’t she thought of it yesterday? He must be wild with confusion right now, wondering what had happened.
She tried to gather her thoughts.
Dearest Jack:
My mother locked me in my room when I told her of our engagement. She is furious. Without informing me, she arranged a union with the Duke of Hampshire. He is on his way to New York right now.
My mother is stubborn, but I can be stubborn too. I love you, Jack. I will not marry the duke. Wait for me. Do nothing hasty. I will find a way to get out.
All my love,
Lindy
The next morning Lindy waited until Molly brought the breakfast tray. As the maid placed it on the bedside table, Lindy darted past the girl to block the bedroom door. Molly gasped and shrank back, her eyes wide.
“It’s all right, Molly. I want you to do something for me.”
Molly’s eyes widened. “Oh no, miss. I’m not to speak to you. The missus gave me my instructions, she did.”
“She won’t find out. I want you to take a letter for me.” Lindy tried to press the envelope into Molly’s hand.
Molly put her hands behind her and backed away. Tears welled in her eyes. “No, miss, I’ll lose my position. I can’t do it.”
“Could you pass it to someone else who could?”
“No, no, Miss Evangeline. She’d know. She’s got them eyes in the back of her head, she does.”
“Please, Molly, just this once. I’d be eternally grateful.”
Molly shook her head. “I’d be in terrible trouble. Please let me pass.”
Lindy sighed and moved away from the door. Molly fled the room. Lindy threw herself on the bed and wept.
The third day the guard brought all her meals into the room and returned to take the untouched trays out.
On the morning of the fourth day, the key turned in the lock as usual. Lindy didn’t turn from the window.
“Evangeline.”
Lindy clenched her jaw and didn’t turn at the sound of her mother’s imperious voice.
“Evangeline.” Again that commanding tone. “Look at me.”
Slowly, Lindy turned around.
Her mother studied her. “You look pale.” She glanced at the untouched breakfast tray. “I hope you don’t intend to starve yourself.”
Lindy turned to the window. “I’m not hungry.”
“Evangeline.” Now her mother spoke in a coaxing voice. “Please be sensible about this. Jack Winthrop isn’t a good match for you.”
Lindy whirled to face her mother. “His pedigree is superlative, Mama, descended from the Puritans! You always said it was important to have a good name.”
Her mother nodded. “I did say that. But he has no money, Evangeline. And no prospects.”
“He’s going into the ministry, Mama!”
Mama sat on the silken counterpane of the bed and smoothed her skirts. “An admirable vocation, to be sure.”
“As long as it’s not your son-in-law’s, is that it?”
“You weren’t raised to be the wife of a minister. Or educated for that purpose. And you know it.”
Lindy swung around and clenched her fists. “Needlework and painting lessons don’t educate a girl for much, Mama. Classes in deportment and social etiquette don’t prepare one to be useful. And I so much want to be useful.” She choked back tears and kept her voice steady. “Please, try and understand. I want to be Jack’s wife and minister at his side.”
Mama sighed. “That’s enough. It will not happen. I forbid it.”
“What does Papa say?”
Her mother snorted. “What does he ever have to say? He’ll do what I tell him.”
A hard lump rose in Lindy’s throat. She lurched away from her mother and sank into a chair. How could she change her mother’s mind?
Vera stood up and smoothed the kimono over her hips. “You will marry the duke.”
“I don’t want the duke! I won’t marry him.” Lindy clenched her jaw and raised her chin. “You can’t make me.”
“You want to be a minister’s wife, and yet you don’t even know the Ten Commandments.”
“What?” Lindy gaped at her mother.
“The Fifth Commandment, to be specific.”
Lindy groaned. Honor your father and your mother.
Her mother smiled and walked to the door. Before Lindy could move, she had exited the room. The key turned in the lock. Lindy rushed to the door and jiggled the handle. “You can’t keep me locked up for the rest of my life!” She pounded the door with her fists. “Do you hear me? You can’t!”
There was no answer.
She collapsed to the floor. Father God, what am I going to do?
Chapter 30
I’ll go mad soon.
Her mother was stubborn. But she could be more stubborn. With a lot of pulling and pushing, she turned the bed around to face the window. Then she pulled the silk draperies open as far as they would go. Robin’s-egg blue tinted the sky outside her window. She tried to pray.
Give me wisdom, dear Lord. What is your desire for me?
But all she could hear in her mind was her mother’s droning voice. Honor your mother and father. Honor your father and mother. Honor your father and mother.
***
After a restless night, she went to the window and threw the sash up. Pedestrians passed on the street below. Goosebumps prickled her skin as cold air rushed in. She leaned out as far as she could and held onto the ledge with one hand.
“Help!” She waved her hand back and forth. “Help me! Please!” She screamed as loud as she could. A couple walking by stopped and peered upward. “Please! Call the police—I’m being held a prisoner in this house! Help! Call the police! Please!”
The woman’s mouth formed a perfect “O.” Another man stopped, and the couple pointed to her.
“Help me!” She screamed with all her might. “Help me! Please!”
A small crowd gathered, and the blue uniform of a policeman appeared.
“Up here!” she yelled again and again. “Help me, please! I’m being held hostage!” Her voice gave out.
The policeman shooed the crowd away, walked toward the mansion’s front door, and disappeared from her sight.
Oh please, God.
She went to the door and pressed her ear against it, but her bedroom lay too far away from the main hall to hear anything. She put a wrapper on over her nightgown and tried to brush some order into her hair. Then she waited.
It wasn’t long until footsteps sounded outside her door. The key turned in the lock. Three menservants entered. One stood guarding the door, and none would meet her gaze. The other two went to the window, lowered the sash, and nailed it shut. Swiftly they did the same to the other two windows in the room. Without looking at her, they left the room. The key turned in the lock.
She flung herself at the door and beat it with her fists. “You can’t keep me in here! Mama! Mama!” She hammered the door until her hands became bruised. She sank to the floor, leaving bloody trails on the pristine white paint.
“Jack,” she whispered. “Oh, Jack…”
***
She saw no one. Only the guard who brought her meals and left the room as quickly as possible. Christmas decorations were going up on the gaslights in the street. Evergreen wreaths and red bows. Snow fell, melted away, and fell again. Perhaps she would grow old and die in this room.
How would her mother explain that to the duke?
***
She lost track of the days. It must be nearly three weeks now. Her body grew thin. She knew she should eat, but she had no appetite.
One morning she awoke lying in her window seat. Doors slammed in the hall outside. Excited voices penetrated the wall of her bedroom. Lindy pressed her ear against the door, trying to hear. Footsteps pounded up and down the stairs. The noise decreased after a while. She banged on the door, wincing at the pain in her bruised hands. “What’s happening?” she yelled. “Papa! Papa! Please come.”
No one answered.
Lindy curled up on the bed and fell asleep.
She woke the next morning when the key turned in the lock of her bedroom door. Instead of her mother, her Aunt Julia entered the room in a fashionable mauve day dress. The scent of fresh air lingered about her person.
“Aunt Julia. What are you doing here?”
Julia pulled her gloves off. “I came up on the train this morning.”
“Why? Has something happened? I heard a lot of noise yesterday.”
Her aunt gave her a sober glance. “Yes.” She sank on the bed beside Lindy and sighed. “My goodness, you’re a sight.” She gave her a gentle pat on the cheek. “I have bad news. Brace yourself.”
“What is it? Tell me quickly.”
Julia took her hand and held it tight. “It’s your mother, Lindy. She’s had a heart seizure.”
Lindy gasped. “Oh no! Has the doctor been here?”
Julia nodded. “That’s the commotion you heard yesterday. She fainted at the breakfast table and had to be carried to her room. The doctor examined her and said it’s her heart. She’s resting now.”
“Is she going to die?” Lindy steeled herself to hear the answer.
“I don’t know.” Julia hesitated. “Lindy, your mother told me what’s happened. It’s likely that the shock of your refusal has brought this on.”
Lindy clenched her jaw. “Did she tell you she’s kept me captive in this room for weeks?”
Julia’s face paled. “No...”
“I’ve seen no one. She’s even set a guard at my door.”
Her aunt shook her head. “I had no idea. Where is your father in all of this?”
Lindy groaned. Where was her father? Out in the stables with his prize horses, afraid to set foot in the house, most likely.
Julia sighed. “Never mind. I know my brother-in-law. When trouble comes, he’s always been like a turtle. Retreats into his shell. Why he married your moth—” She stopped abruptly and shot a glance at Lindy. “Well...”
Lindy wrung her hands. “What should I do?” Possibly her mother lay dying. But it wasn’t Lindy’s fault. Was it? “Can I see her?”
Julia frowned. “I don’t know. The doctor doesn’t want her upset.”
“I won’t upset her.”
Julia stood up. “Let me ask your father.”
She left the room. Lindy ran her hands through her hair and shook her head. Had she caused her mother’s heart seizure? She jumped to her feet and paced the room. Oh dear, God, help me to think!
A gentle knock sounded at the door, and Aunt Julia returned. “He says yes. Come. Let’s fix you up a bit before we go in.”
She sat Lindy at the dressing table, brushed out her hair, and loosely plaited it.
Lindy stared at her reflection. She had avoided the mirror for at least the last week. Her cheeks had hollowed, and there were dark smudges under her eyes.
“Here, darling.” Julia held out a fresh dressing gown. “Put this on.” She pulled the sash tight about Lindy’s waist. “So thin you’ve become. We’ll have to do something about that.”
They headed toward t
he carpeted hall leading to her mother’s bedroom. Her mother’s bed, a huge canopied affair, rested in a corner of the chamber. The room, usually illuminated by a magnificent crystal chandelier and wall sconces, today had only a small lamp burning on the side table, and all the draperies closed up tight.
Papa sat by the bedside and looked up at Lindy’s entrance. His normally spotless white shirt was wrinkled, and he wore no tie. Deep lines were graven around his mouth. He gave her a weak smile and then dropped his head into his hands. Mama lay underneath the silk counterpane, unmoving.
Lindy approached the bed. “Mama?” Her mother didn’t react. Lindy touched her arm. “Mama. Please. Open your eyes.”
Her mother’s eyes fluttered open. She moaned and fastened her eyes on Lindy, then held out her hand. Lindy grasped it and sank to her knees next to the bed. “Mama, how do you feel?”
Her mother shook her head. “Tired.” Her weak, shaky voice sent a dagger through Lindy’s heart.
“What has the doctor said?” When her mother didn’t answer, Lindy turned to her father. “Papa?”
Otto shrugged. “He thinks it’s her heart. An attack of some kind.”
“Will she get better?”
Otto sighed. “Time will tell, sweetheart.”
Lindy drew a chair close to the bed and took her mother’s limp hand in hers. The fingers were cold against her own warm ones. Could she have caused her mother’s attack? Had the stress of the last three weeks affected her somehow? She had never seen her mother ill. Now the still silent figure in the bed made her throat swell. But hadn’t Vera been partly responsible for her own illness?
Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long upon the land which the Lord your God is giving you.
Had she forsaken her duty to her parents? To obey them and trust they knew what was best for her?
“Mama... do you need anything? Is there anything I can do for you?”
Her mother shook her head. Dark shadows ringed her eyes and stood out against her pale complexion.
Lindy bit her lip. “Mama, you must try to get well.”
Her mother turned away, emitting a soft sigh. A tear rolled down her cheek.