It had been a mistake to visit Fairwinds, and her folly was costing her now, such a silly errand. She should have gone to visit Elizabeth. Calling on her friend wouldn’t have been as awkward as it had been calling on the Blankenships. Yet it had pleased her more than anything else at that moment to be sitting with James.
Had he known about the planned engagement? For a split second, when she heard the word wedding, she had thought perhaps Mrs. Blankenship had encouraged her and James’s conversation because of that. Yet the brother-and-sister reference shouldn’t have been lost on her. And the slight furrow to James’s brow told her he’d known. She squashed the flicker of hope that her parents’ choice was him.
Yes, James had known all along, as well.
Oh, Lord, please deliver me from this.
She was having feelings, feelings of curiosity mostly, toward James. A curiosity she hadn’t had with anyone else. Even with her conversation with Elizabeth about marriage earlier that afternoon …
Her thoughts trailed off. Mother had mentioned something about Maggie having her own household to run sooner than she imagined.
They’d all known about this, all of them but her.
She felt more foolish and silly than ever.
A soft knock sounded at her door. “Margaret?”
“Yes, Mother?”
“I thought I heard you return.” She opened the door and entered her bedroom. “Oh, you’re rumpling your skirt.”
“It does not matter to me.”
“Whatever is wrong, dear? I am a bit concerned that you arrived home when it was a bit too dark for you to be out.”
“How long ago did you decide that Frank Blankenship and I should be engaged?” She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed in a decidedly unladylike manner which made her feel oddly rebellious.
Her mother gave a long, squeaky sigh. “It has been since the winter. You were not supposed to know this until your debut.”
“Well, I know now.”
“Who told you?”
“Mrs. Violet Blankenship herself. She appeared to burst with the news this evening when we had lemonade.”
Mother pursed her lips. “I would have preferred to call on the Blankenships with you. I cannot believe you had the audacity to call on them by yourself. Why ever did you do such a thing?”
“It doesn’t matter now, and I intended no ill manners.” Maggie expelled her own sigh. Her eyes hurt from crying. Tears wanted to come again, but she would not crumble in front of Mother. A lady controlled her emotions at all costs.
“I am sure you did not. But don’t let something like this happen again. I’m not sure it was the best decision to allow you to ride your bicycle alone, especially so close to nighttime. We don’t want anyone getting wrong ideas.”
“I promise it will not happen again, Mother.” The words meant nothing to her ears.
Married. I’m going to be getting married.
“Very well. I am not trying to be hard on you, my dear. You are our only child, our only hope for the future. The Blankenships are a good, upstanding family, and no matter what happens to our position, yours will be secured, and I pray, because of that, so will ours.”
A niggle of worry did battle with her dismay. Father had reassured them their position was secure, but from what Mother had just said, it sounded as though the marriage might be part of a business agreement between the two families.
The Blankenships were considered “old money,” and Maggie knew for a fact that Elizabeth hoping to marry a Blankenship cousin would help her as well.
“Well, as you have said nothing, I assume you don’t share my hope?” Mother asked.
“I am pondering all of this, Mother, but yes, I pray our position will be secured as well,” Maggie managed to say.
“We will not begin to search for a new maid for you until after the ball. There is simply not adequate time to inquire about one now, and I don’t want questions about why we are replacing Gertrude.”
“I understand.” Maggie studied her hands, folded on her lap. She’d neglected to wear gloves while riding the bicycle. If Mother had known, she would have insisted Maggie apply lotion immediately. Tonight, she didn’t care.
Mother left after reminding Maggie she needed to arrange her wardrobe of gowns for the weekend so the laundress could press them for her.
She let the tears come, again, but no sobs, else she would have to bury her face in a pillow to allow herself a good wail, which would do no good and might send the staff running to her door.
Maggie prayed for a solution, but she could see none. The robberies paled in comparison to her own situation. The preacher always exhorted them not to fret over the morrow, because the birds of the air were supplied by their heavenly Father. Yet she had more than enough of everything, and her worry was more of the future. What would happen to her, to all of them?
Soft footfalls then a quiet swish near the door caught her attention.
A small piece of paper lay on the floor where someone had slid it underneath the door. She hopped from the bed and hurried to snap up the folded note. She yanked the door open and stared up and down the hallway, lit only by gas lanterns. No one.
She closed the door firmly then opened the note: The Morris robbery and the Livingston robbery are not the same.
James hadn’t had a bad night’s sleep like this one since his first night living in a rented apartment all by himself in the city. The tenant next door drank and was prone to argue with his wife, who also drank. The arguments would last into the middle of the night until they both presumably fell asleep, upon which time the tenant on the other side’s young child would wake up, crying for milk in the predawn hours.
By midmorning, the fog inside his brain had lifted somewhat, enough for him to pick up the family’s telephone to call his editor with an update. This one, he would definitely appreciate. Not one, but now two, robberies. Would he want him to go forward with a story? Perhaps a phone call to Mr. Livingston was in order first. Or a visit to the home to follow up on the events of yesterday.
He donned his morning coat and called for a horse to ride. No need to take out the carriage or buggy. If it wasn’t so warm, he might have walked.
James arrived at the gates to Tidewaters and rode through, upon which a horseman met him to take his horse to the stables.
A tiny maid answered his knock. She scurried off to announce him, shortly after which Mr. Livingston entered the foyer.
“Good morning, Mr. Blankenship. I gather you are here to discuss the robbery yet again?”
“Yes and no. Since this is the second robbery in a matter of weeks among the families, I feel I must tell my editor this is story worthy now,” he said, removing his hat. “This could be a disturbing trend. Either way, it will be good for people to know they should be on the watch. I gave you my word I would share this with you, and I am due to give a report to my editor this morning.”
“Quite right.” Mr. Livingston nodded. “If this is a trend among our set, we must discover who it is, or at least hopefully, the attention will make them stop.”
“I do have another idea as well. With Mag—Margaret’s debut coming tomorrow night, it might be helpful to set a trap for this individual or individuals. This will not go to press before the debut, so we will have the opportunity to continue investigating, and I can keep my editor happy.”
“Sounds wise. What do you have in mind?”
James glanced throughout the foyer and at the closed doors. “Is there somewhere we can talk privately? Your study?”
“Of course. Please, follow me.” Mr. Livingston led him along the hallway to another closed door then opened it to reveal a room with a massive desk, a bookcase, and a fireplace before which two leather chairs faced each other. The place smelled faintly of pipe tobacco.
James did not speak until the door was firmly closed behind them. “My mother is planning to let Margaret wear her treasured diamond necklace at the debut. In fact, she plans to prese
nt it to her in front of everyone. What if—and this is a big what if, sir—we spread the news around that the diamond necklace will possibly be presented at the debut?”
“The thief, if they believe they have a chance at a larger prize, might act.”
James nodded. “My thought exactly. And if we can somehow arrange for the lights to go out or get Margaret alone on the porch in the dark—”
“I’m not sure I like that idea, but perhaps the lights out in the ballroom might work.”
“May we share this plan with Margaret, sir?”
“Yes. She is a smart young woman and will be most agreeable to help us.”
Of that, James had no doubt.
Chapter 7
From her bedroom window, Maggie saw James arrive at Tidewaters and depart not thirty minutes later. She needed to tell him about the note she’d received last evening, and she’d just let that chance slip away. But part of her couldn’t bear to see him after last night’s heartbreaking revelation. Of course she hadn’t masked her disappointment and shock last evening at learning the big secret to be revealed at her debut.
The source of her disappointment went a bit deeper, and of that he could not know. Of the two Blankenship brothers, she very much preferred James to Frank. To reveal that to anyone could do her no good, especially not with the plans their families had made.
Did this mysterious Frank Blankenship know anything of her? What did he think? She couldn’t pull together a memory of him at all. The idea frightened her, along with another recollection of the sobbing debutante she’d thought of while walking with Elizabeth on the beach yesterday.
Rattling around her room like a wayward pea would do her no good and only serve to magnify her sour mood. Could she plead her case to her father, if not her mother? She preferred the wrong brother, to be sure, but if she made her wishes known, would it even change things?
No, especially since James was the proverbial rogue of the family. He was worse than no choice at all, likely, in everyone else’s eyes.
She moved from the window and went to fetch her favorite day dress then changed her mind. Perhaps she would play some tennis after all, to gain some enjoyment from striking a ball instead of throwing a childish tantrum and breaking things in her room—something she wasn’t given to doing, but surely seemed tempting, the more she considered it.
A soft knock sounded at her door. “Miss Margaret? Miss Morris is calling to see if you would like to play tennis today, then luncheon at her home?”
It was her mother’s maid, Agnes. She missed Gertrude’s familiar voice with its accent.
“Please tell her yes, Agnes. I shall be down straightway.”
She met Elizabeth in the foyer. Her friend was dressed much like her, with a long white skirt and a white shirtwaist, with a large white hat to fend off the sun.
“I am so looking forward to our match.” Elizabeth linked arms with her.
“As am I. Although I can’t promise I will show much skill. I’m out of practice.” Maggie waited until they were outside at Elizabeth’s carriage before continuing. “I do plan to hit that tennis ball as much as possible.”
On the way to the tennis club, Maggie explained about her coming engagement, with Elizabeth’s expression becoming more crestfallen as she did so.
“Oh, Margaret. It’s simply dreadful.” Elizabeth shook her head, her curls bouncing. “This is why I and someone would like to take matters into our own hands, before something like that happens. So what do you know about this Frank?”
“Not much. Not much at all.”
“His brother, James, is far more appealing, in some ways, I suppose.”
“I suppose.” Maggie tried not to let her smile betray her, but too late.
“You fancy him, do you?”
“Yes. No. I’m not sure. I dare not think about a possibility with him, not when everyone else has other plans.”
“Have you told them your wishes?”
“No. My mother would find him unsuitable, especially given his profession.”
Maggie refused to discuss the matter further, all throughout their tennis game, which was cut short by a sudden rain shower.
“Ah, bah,” Elizabeth said. “Shall we go home early for lunch? Better than sitting here, waiting for the sun to come out.”
“I don’t mind having lunch now.”
They soon arrived at the Morrises’ cottage, where lunch was not yet ready. The two situated themselves in the library, in what Elizabeth called her favorite reading nook. The window seat looked out on the soggy garden.
“I’m going to see how much longer it will be for lunch.” Elizabeth left Maggie on the seat, poring over a book she’d selected from the shelf.
While scanning the opening pages, to see if she wanted to ask to borrow the volume, the book slipped from her fingers and bounced onto the floor. She climbed from the window seat’s cushion and bent to pick up the book. A small board at the lower edge of the seat appeared loose. She pushed it into place, but to her surprise, it sprang away from the seat, revealing a small cache. Inside the cache glittered a ruby necklace, a sapphire ring, and a pair of diamond earrings.
Maggie sat there staring at it. A movement to the side caught her eye. Elizabeth had returned.
Upon seeing Maggie, Elizabeth colored. “Oh, Maggie. You won’t tell, will you?”
“You need to tell.”
“I can’t. I’m afraid to.” A tear slid down from Elizabeth’s right eye. “It was mine anyway, mostly mine. I was going to use it for Henry and me ….” She sank onto the bench.
Maggie shook her head. “There’s an investigation and everything. You need to tell them.”
“I don’t know if I can. There are other things missing, but I didn’t take those.”
“You should, you must. Maybe if you tell them about Henry, they will understand.”
“I’m not so sure.”
Maggie hugged her friend. She understood that feeling.
“Talk to them before they decide something because they don’t know your wishes. And maybe you can help them narrow down who the thief is.”
Maggie had to find James, and soon, to tell him about this discovery and what it meant for their own investigation.
Father had asked James to lunch at the club, to which James had agreed. He might as well spend time with his father and meet that challenge head-on. He wasn’t sure who had been avoiding the other, but with Maggie’s debut coming up, he was sure Father would share the plans for the family with him. Although, he ought to be surprised at this.
“Good day to you, son.” They took their seats at the table. James had ceased receiving curious glances, for which he was grateful. A few had reintroduced themselves to the “wayward” young man, as some had murmured about him.
“Good day to you, Father.”
They ordered then sat in silence. James sipped his lemonade, while Father drank coffee. That was one of the things he always remembered about the man. Coffee, with every meal, no matter the time of year and no matter the weather.
“So, how is your assignment going here in Newport?”
“It’s going well, although not quite as I expected.”
Father nodded. “Mr. Livingston has filled me in. You have a rather unorthodox idea, but it just might work. I like it.”
“Thank you. I am trying to help find a resolution for this. I received a message that I need to call my boss at the office. They may have more information on the first robbery.”
“Very good. We don’t want bad publicity, but I would prefer the full story to come out.”
“That is what I am hoping for, as well.”
“So. Have you thought about returning to work for me?”
James tried not to sigh. “Yes, and no. I’m happy and content where I am.” Although that wasn’t entirely true. He missed the old days, such as they were. He didn’t miss the tension and posturing like roosters, the cutthroat nature of business sometimes. He wasn’t sure where he fit with th
at, unsure that he wanted to fit with that.
“I … I would be willing to find—something—for you to do. A modest living. You wouldn’t need to live with us.” Father took another sip of coffee. “I’m getting older, James. I don’t know how much time I have. A man gets to looking back on his life, and what is the point of having a legacy without anyone to leave it to? I’ve done this for you and Frank. Both my sons.”
“Thank you, Father. I, ah, I miss the old days. But I don’t want things to be like they were.” James nodded. “But I’ll think about it.”
Chapter 8
The sight of the glittering diamonds on the necklace Mrs. Blankenship held up made Maggie catch her breath. Why, the bit of jewelry had to be worth as much as their entire cottage, now decked out with lights and lanterns ablaze. The wiring for electricity had not been installed just yet, although Father promised it would be before summer’s end.
“Here.” Mrs. Blankenship extended the necklace toward Maggie. “I wore these at my debut, and as I never had a daughter, I am glad for you to wear them. Although I still think it would have been more magnificent for me to put the necklace on you with the whole ballroom watching.”
“Perhaps,” Father interjected, with Mother standing close by. “But we can announce the same when we make the announcement of the engagement before the dancing begins.” Father and James had informed her of their plan yesterday evening. It was known only to the three of them.
“I dare not risk the other ladies knowing of it,” Father had said. “I know you can keep a secret. Also, it helps that we let you know of our plan to catch this person in the act, if possible.”
She certainly hoped so, she reflected as she turned to let Mrs. Blankenship fasten the necklace behind her. As soon as it was secure, she couldn’t resist turning toward the looking glass to see the necklace in all its splendor lying at her throat.
“Consider this necklace my engagement gift to you.” Mrs. Blankenship’s hands were warm on her shoulders.
The American Heiress Brides Collection Page 51