THE Prairie DREAMS Trilogy

by Susan Page Davis

  “There should be some people in St. Louis who remember him,” she said. “People the postmaster didn’t talk to. Perhaps we can stop here a few days just to get our feet back under us.”

  “That sounds attractive. I wouldn’t have thought it, but I’m quite exhausted.”

  The coach dipped on its springs and swayed again. A few moments later, the cabby appeared outside their door, smiling.

  “All loaded, ladies. And where did you say I will be taking you?”

  Elise smiled at his cheerful voice and Irish cant. “Well, sir, we hoped you could suggest a place.” She looked around. “Suggest it quietly though, if you please. We do not wish to broadcast our lodging place.”

  Anne leaned forward. “Surely you know of a nice, clean place where ladies can stay without worrying every minute.”

  “To be sure,” the cabby said. “I’ll have you there in twenty minutes.”

  He disappeared, and the springs gave as he climbed to his perch on the driver’s box. The horses set out at a good clip, and the cab rolled along with a minimum of jostling. Elise sank back with a sigh. Weariness seeped through every muscle. She closed her eyes and opened them, startled, when Anne spoke.

  “Do you think we’ll find him?”

  Elise fought back her sleepiness and sat straighter. “Yes, I do.”

  “We’ve both prayed so hard,” Anne said.

  “The Lord will honor that.”

  “I wish I fully believed that. But if not, perhaps we can at least get the documentation needed for the peerage to remain active. It would be a pity for the house to sit there empty until the Crown takes it over and for Randolph to miss out on the title if it truly should be his.” Anne reached out a hand as though to stop Elise’s thoughts from running astray. “I haven’t always been courteous to Randolph. For some reason I always found it difficult to like him.”

  Not “for some reason,” Elise thought. There are plenty of reasons, and I could personally name half a dozen. But she wouldn’t. Anne’s vague dislike of her cousin was far better than certain knowledge that the man was a scoundrel.

  The cab slowed, made a turn, and at last rolled to a stop.

  “There we go, ladies. If this place is not to your liking, there’s another not far from here that we can try. But this one is very genteel, they say.”

  Elise took the hand the cabby offered and climbed down, wishing she weren’t so stiff. These long days of travel made her feel like an old woman. She surveyed the hotel as he helped Anne down. The broad, three-story clapboard building had a wide covered porch. Two elderly women sat there in rocking chairs, bundled up against the cool late March air, and a man in a beige suit lounged against the pillar near them. Shrubs lined the walk to the steps, and baskets of budding plants sat on the window ledges. A sign at the edge of the lawn read CINDERS HOTEL.

  “It looks well kept,” Elise ventured. “Shall we go in and see what it’s like inside?”

  “Would you like me to accompany you?” the cabby asked. “If you take a room, I’ll come back out and unload your trunks.”

  “Splendid.” Elise was thankful they’d found a reliable man. So far the Americans she’d dealt with ranged from blatant rapscallions to suave gentlemen. The cabby, to all appearances, was an honest and hardworking fellow.

  Twenty minutes later, she and Anne had been shown to rooms on the second floor, and the hotel owner’s son, with the cabby’s help, had delivered their ample baggage. Elise tipped them generously and looked about Anne’s room as the lady removed her hat and gloves.

  “Perhaps we should have taken but one room,” Elise said. “We need to conserve your funds.”

  “We may come to that,” Anne said, gazing at the stack of trunks. “But for now, at least, we’ll maintain our privacy.”

  “As you wish. But do tell me when we need to make a change.” Elise walked over to her. “Here, my lady. Let me help you undress and get to bed. I’ll have some supper brought up for you.”

  “I’m so tired,” Anne admitted. She held up her arms and allowed Elise to pull her gown over her head. “Thank you. I know I shall feel better once I’m out of these crinolines and my corset.”

  As quickly as she could, Elise helped her change into a nightdress and wrapper then sat her mistress down so she could brush her hair.

  “I could have a bath drawn for you.”

  “No, I’ll wait until tomorrow. I want only to sink into that bed.”

  The single beds in both rooms had iron head- and footboards. Elise wasn’t sure how comfortable they would be, but they did seem to have plump mattresses, and the bedding looked clean.

  She helped her mistress into bed and turned the lamp low then walked down to the dining room where only a few customers lingered.

  “Am I too late to dine?” she asked the waitress.

  “No, ma’am. We’ve got roast beef and potatoes, or chicken stew. Take a seat anywhere you like.”

  “Thank you. And could I get a tray afterward for Miss Stone?”

  “You sure can.”

  Elise hid her smile at the woman’s broad accent. She supposed that she and Lady Anne sounded odd to these Yankees.

  As she waited for her meal, she observed the other diners. None of them, to her relief, resembled the man she and Anne had seen earlier—Mustache, as she’d begun to think of him.

  She supposed her suspicions were brought on by fatigue. He was only a traveler, like her, headed in the same direction. She unfolded her napkin and laid it across her lap, determined to think of more pleasant things.

  David Stone, for instance. “Tell me about Uncle David,” Lady Anne had said on the train. Elise had gathered her rioting thoughts and complied. David Stone was a handsome young man when last she’d seen him. Anne, of course, was too young to remember him, but she’d seen his portraits countless times. One of the three brothers hung in the hall at Stoneford—Richard, the eldest, at twenty-one, John at nineteen in his uniform, and David a lad of fourteen. He was the fairest, the most likable, and the most charming.

  A second portrait of David hung in the small drawing room. He had sat for it the winter before he left England. He had grown only more handsome in the intervening eight years.

  “Everyone liked him,” Elise had told Anne. It was true. David had myriad friends and no enemies. Every woman who laid eyes on David Stone adored him. Elise was no exception.

  But she was only the maid. At that time, she’d served Anne’s mother, Lady Elizabeth Stone. She’d loved her mistress. And her mistress’s brother-in-law.

  David hadn’t really noticed Elise—not in that way. He’d always been nice to her and even joked with her occasionally, but he’d never approached her romantically. The one man in the world she wished would do so treated her like a sister. On the other hand, Elise had needed to fight his cousin off whenever Randolph visited Stoneford.

  Life wasn’t fair.

  Her meal came, and she savored it. The long, arduous day had taken its toll. She almost doubted she’d be able to waken Lady Anne long enough for the young woman to eat her dinner, but the plain, tasty food would be worth it and would give her strength for tomorrow—no doubt another long day.

  Would they find David tomorrow?

  Elise’s pulse raced, though she calmly cut her roast beef and chewed one small bite at a time. It was unlikely that they’d catch up to him so soon. David had lived in this city for several years, but then he’d written to his brother Richard that he was moving on. The earl hadn’t heard from him again, or if he had, the rest of the household wasn’t told. If David had moved back to St. Louis, the postmaster would have informed Mr. Conrad. He must have gone somewhere else. But still…they might find some hint of his whereabouts among people in the city who knew him. Someday, and soon, God willing, they would find him.

  Would she shortly stand face-to-face with the man she’d held in her heart all this time? David would have changed—Elise understood that. And if he’d changed for the worse, perhaps seeing him agai
n would cleanse her mind of him. Maybe she’d be able to think about someone else now, after all these years.

  She wanted a love. She wanted a home of her own. Perhaps it was too late to hope for children. But with Lady Anne’s change in circumstances, Elise felt free to decide her own future. Would she remain with Anne for the rest of her life and serve her quietly? Or did something bigger await her? David? Or someone else?

  CHAPTER 3

  We’ll start with the last known address,” Lady Anne said the next morning.

  They’d both slept late and had breakfast sent to their rooms. Then they’d bathed and taken great care with their morning toilette. It was nearly noon before both felt ready to venture out and begin their search.

  The hotel’s owner came from behind his desk, smiling as they descended the stairs.

  “Good day, ladies. How lovely you both look.”

  “Thank you,” Elise said. Lady Anne merely nodded with a faint smile.

  “How may I help you?” Mr. Williams asked.

  Elise drew a slip of paper from her pocket, though she knew the address by heart. “Perhaps you could tell us where Union Street is. If it’s not far, we might walk there.”

  “To be sure, ma’am. If you go down to the corner and turn left, then go two blocks—you might want to cross the street though, because it’s muddy, and there’s no cobbles here and no sidewalk on the near side—and get down to Walnut and turn again. Then it’s not far. You’ll see a laundry on the corner. That’s the street you want.”

  Elise nodded slowly.

  “And the livery?” Anne asked. “How far is that?”

  “Perhaps half a mile.”

  After more discussion and repetition of the directions, the two ladies opted to walk rather than hire a hackney or a buggy. They set out on foot for the address where David had lived ten years ago, with Elise carrying a furled umbrella. The early morning fog had lifted some, but gray clouds hung low overhead. The streets were already muddy from the last shower, and the ladies were grateful for the board sidewalks that led from the hotel to the corner. As Mr. Williams had foretold, however, on the next street they were forced to pick their way across the muddy thoroughfare, and the hems of their skirts grew filthy.

  At last they arrived at the address, only to find that it was occupied by a tobacco shop. Lady Anne looked at Elise in dismay.

  “Have we got it wrong?”

  “I don’t think so. The city is growing quickly. It’s more likely that sometime in the last ten years your uncle’s old house was torn down and this shop put here in its place.”

  Rain pattered down on them, and Elise raised the umbrella. “I suppose we can ask the shopkeeper if he knows anything about the building’s history.” The rain increased as she spoke, and that sealed their choice for taking shelter inside the shop.

  No one stood behind the counter in the small store, but two men sat in chairs near an upright heating stove, and a third stood nearby, in conversation with them. All three had their pipes lit, and the air was hazy with aromatic smoke.

  “Well, ladies!” One of the men, with luxuriant gray hair and a short-cropped beard, stood and gave a slight bow. “How may I assist you, or are you merely seeking a roof until the rain stops?”

  Elise handed the collapsed umbrella to Lady Anne and stepped toward him. “We’re looking for a gentleman who used to live at this address.”

  “Ah, an English lady seeking a gentleman.” He smiled and ran a hand over his beard. “How long ago did your friend reside here?”

  “At least ten years. This was the address he gave.”

  “Probably dead,” the man still seated said dolefully. “Them was rough times.”

  The man who had first addressed Elise scowled at him and cleared his throat. “Pay no mind to him. This did used to be a private residence. I bought it about four years back. Before my shop, it was a bakery, or so I’m told. But it was a house once.” He nodded, looking around him as though expecting to see the old furniture and residents emerge through the smoke.

  “How would I find out more about the man who used to live here?” Elise could scarcely credit David, the son of an earl, living in such a small, rough building, but what did she know of life on the edge of civilization? David might have lived in poverty and not hinted of it to his family.

  “What’s his name?” the man asked.

  “David Stone.”

  “Don’t know him.” The bearded man took a puff on his pipe and looked at his two companions, but they shook their heads.

  “Might ask at the post office,” said the younger man, who still stood by the stove.

  Elise nodded and did not volunteer that the Stones’ solicitor had done that already.

  “You could ask around,” said the third man. “Old Henry Cobb across the street has been here as long as anyone.”

  “Thank you.”

  Lady Anne began to cough. Rain or no rain, Elise decided it was time to get out of the tainted air.

  “Good day, gentlemen.” She took the umbrella and opened the door. Anne dived through it as though desperate to escape.

  As she closed the door behind them, Elise heard the seated man say, “Dutch, you’re lettin’ ’em get away.”

  The wind blew a torrent of raindrops over them, and Elise angled the umbrella against it.

  “What do you think, my lady? Should we seek out this man named Henry Cobb?”

  “I’d feel we were remiss if we didn’t.” Anne had to raise her voice against the wind.

  “I don’t want you to catch a chill,” Elise said.

  The wind whipped Lady Anne’s short veil and a few tendrils of hair escaping from beneath her hat. The fetching bonnet would be ruined if they stayed out long in this weather.

  “Perhaps we should go back to the hotel until this blows over.”

  “No,” Anne said. “I want to find Uncle David as quickly as possible.”

  “All right, then we’ll make inquiries across the street.”

  Smoke rose from the chimney of the house directly across. The two women picked their way between ruts and puddles. They were nearly across when a laden wagon slogged down the way, throwing muddy water across the lower half of Elise’s skirt. The driver shrugged and lifted his hat, grinning.

  Elise held in the response she wanted to make and took Lady’s Anne’s elbow, guiding her up onto the stoop of an unpainted house that looked as though the wind might blow it down.

  Anne rapped timidly with her gloved hand.

  After a few seconds, Elise said, “We shall have to knock louder, I’m afraid.” She used the umbrella handle to rap smartly on the weathered planks of the door.

  She saw movement through a window to one side and waited, with the rain sheeting off the umbrella. The door swung open.

  “Ladies! How may I help you?” An elderly man with several teeth missing and thinning white hair appraised them with an eager smile.

  “Mr. Cobb?” Elise asked.

  “Yes. Come in. Don’t get company often, and the day’s not fit for a three-legged dog. Come in and dry off, ladies.”

  Grateful for the prospect of a few minutes’ warmth, Elise stepped in cautiously. She saw nothing to alarm her and beckoned to Anne to follow. With the door closed, the heat of the small room enveloped them. A fire blazed in a brick hearth, and a lamp burned on a small, bare table.

  “Will you take a seat?” Cobb gestured toward a rocker positioned near the fireplace and a ladder-back chair near the table.

  “Oh, no, thank you,” Elise said. “We only wanted to inquire for my friend’s uncle.” She turned and nodded toward Anne. Despite her normal reserve, the lady had drifted toward the hearth and stood shivering before the fire.

  “The young lady’s uncle?” Cobb asked. “Do I know him?”

  “Well, we hope so,” Elise replied. “He used to live across the way, where the tobacconist’s shop is now.”

  “Ah, that would be in the old days. And his name?”

  “Davi
d Stone.”

  Cobb’s brow furrowed. “Did he speak cockney like you?”

  Elise flushed. The man obviously had no idea of the differences between a cockney accent and that of a cultured English gentleman, let alone a woman whose German tongue had taken on the British slant. “He was English, yes.”

  “Ah. Seems like I recall a gent living yonder.”

  “His family had a letter from him about ten years ago. Do you know when he left, or where he went?”

  Cobb shook his head. “He’s been gone a good many years. Ten sounds about right. Talked about going farther west, I think.”

  “Farther west?” Elise swallowed hard. Their journey had already taken them into conditions more primitive than she had ever imagined. St. Louis was reportedly one of the jumping-off points for even wilder country. “Do you have any idea how we can find out where he went? Were there other people he was friendly with?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t help you there.” A gleam came into Cobb’s eyes. “But I can offer you a glass of ale and a biscuit.”

  Lady Anne actually raised her chin at his words, and Elise realized she was exhausted and famished. “Uh, no, but thank you kindly, sir.”

  He winked at her. “If you’re in town long, come back and visit with Henry Cobb. I always have a jug of ale put by.”

  The ladies ventured out again. The rain had slackened, but the drizzle and the deep mud made their trip back to the hotel miserable.

  “I’m going to put you right to bed for a nap, and we’ll continue our inquiries tomorrow,” Elise said as they climbed the stairs. “In a few hours, we’ll go down to dinner, or I can bring up a tray.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine by then,” Lady Anne said, but as Elise unlocked their door, she let out a delicate sneeze.

  Elise spent an hour removing the mud from their skirts and petticoats. The hotel owner allowed her into the kitchen to use a flatiron, after which she returned to her room to clean and oil their shoes.

  She ended up dining alone that evening and carrying up a bowl of soup, a coarse bread roll the Americans called a biscuit, and a cup of strong tea. After half the soup was gone, Lady Anne insisted she couldn’t eat another bite. She rolled over and went back to sleep.