“So, Agnes, how do you like Boston?” the young woman named Abigail asked. Suddenly, everyone grew quiet. Aggie set the cup back down on her saucer and took a deep breath. “I like it very much, thank you.”
“We haven’t seen you about town since you and Hiram were married, but Hiram has kept me apprised of your…situation.”
Aggie’s nerves resurfaced. What was the woman getting at?
“And what situation might you be referring to, Miss Spencer?” Gertrude interjected.
“Well, let’s just say that Hiram and I are very old and very dear friends. We’ve remained close since he returned with a wife. In fact, he and I were talking this past Friday about that very thing.” The woman had the audacity to giggle and send a look full of meaning to the other two women sitting on either side of her. Both Miss Wellesley and Miss Plumley had the good breeding to be embarrassed by the woman’s inappropriate insinuation.
“I’m surprised he didn’t mention it to you.” Her slant-eyed glance made the meaning of her unspoken words clear.
Aggie’s stomach somersaulted and a new pain, sharp and specific, punched her low in the abdomen. Memories of another husband and his possible infidelity surfaced. She needed to say something. Everyone was looking at her expecting a reaction, but she would not give them one. Instead, she calmly replied to the woman’s inappropriate comments.
“I see. Well, I’m very pleased to meet a good friend of Hiram’s although he’s never mentioned you to me at all.” Aggie pasted on a sweet grin and picked up her teacup careful to steady her trembling fingers.
The woman sent the ladies around the room a sly look. “Well, that is understandable. After all, most husbands don’t speak of other women to their wives. It would be inappropriate, don’t you think?” The woman’s shrill laughter was giving Aggie a headache. “But I suppose they do things differently down in the south. Wouldn’t you agree ladies?” she purred.
Gertrude reached over and squeezed Aggie’s hand resting in her lap under the table. Aggie squeezed back and sipped her tea to give her time to compose a response. She didn’t want to appear jealous. That would give the woman exactly what she wanted—a reaction from Aggie. She set the teacup down and then pasted on another sweet smile.
“I know what rumors have drifted north, but I can assure you, southern women are as proper as any lady present here today. Perhaps more so if your comments are to be considered.”
“And what is that supposed to mean. Are you calling me a liar?” Miss Spencer glared at Aggie. When Aggie didn’t buckle, she then glanced around the room trying to gain support from her friends around the table. It appeared that none of them were willing to join her in embarrassing their hostess.
“No, not at all. As I said, we Southern women have very strict social edicts. We would never call someone a liar. At least, not across the table at a social event. But I am saying that my husband,” she emphasized her possession of the man, “is a gentleman through and through. He would never speak ill of your shortcomings behind your back, not even to his wife. He’s an honorable and kind man, but then if your friendship with him is as close as you imply, I’m certain you already know that about him.”
The woman’s mouth fell open and sparks flew from her eyes. “And exactly what do you mean by shortcomings? Explain yourself.” Miss Spencer’s anger caused her face to mottle with very unbecoming red splotches. Not a teacup rattled, nor a chair squeaked around the table.
Gertrude spoke up on Aggie’s behalf. “Abigail, dear. You embarrassed yourself. I would think that answer obvious. Aggie simply meant that Hiram would never speak ill of someone—not even a former paramour—if your story about my son is to be believed.
“And, I’ll be perfectly frank, I don’t remember him ever mentioning your name at all. Even so, he would never embarrass you by telling someone that he found you wanting, not even his wife.” Her mother-in-law’s smile was benign, almost friendly, but the fire Aggie saw in her crystal blue eyes was white-hot.
“Found me wanting?” Abigail huffed. “I have no idea what on earth you are talking about. Hiram and I were—are—very close. I can assure you he didn’t find me wanting in the least when we were together.”
Gertrude spoke again. “Well, he must have, Abigail. If you were as close as you would have us believe, and he didn’t choose you as his wife, there is only one obvious conclusion—he found you wanting. So he moved on and found the perfect wife in Aggie.” Gertrude glanced around the table at every woman present. “Is there anyone here who would come to a different conclusion if all the facts have been correctly presented?” her mother-in-law asked.
Not one woman moved. Not a muscle. Not one teacup. Not one chair. Not a whisper could be heard in the aftermath of Gertrude and Abigail’s heated exchange.
Aggie dared a glance at Miss Spencer, and she worried for the woman’s health. Her face had gone from mottled splotches to full crimson red. Her eyes were nearly popping out of her head.
“How dare you insult me. How. Dare. You.” The woman’s clipped words punched the silence hovering around them. She stood abruptly, sending her chair crashing backwards. Abigail glared at Aggie even though Gertrude was the one who had put the woman in her place. “You are nothing but trash that Hiram brought back with him from the wretched south. He felt sorry for you. You and that fatherless whelp you carry. If you hadn’t used his pity to get him to marry you, he would have chosen me as his wife.” The woman hissed her words reminding Aggie of a snake she had once accidentally stepped on in her parent’s garden.
Another sharp spasm sent an arrow of pain to her core. She tried to ignore it and stood to gain equal footing with the deranged Miss Spencer. “I hardly think that my husband would have chosen you for his wife even if you were the last woman on this earth. It appears I know Hiram better than you do for he would rather cut his own throat than lay with a viper like you. Now, get out of this house. You are not welcome…” Another stab of pain doubled her over, and she grabbed her stomach with both hands, “…in this house,” she gasped.
“Aggie. Are you alright? What’s wrong?” Gertrude kneeled next to her.
“I—I don’t know. I’m having such pains—in my stomach…sharp…down…low.” Aggie panted.
She heard the wooden legs of chairs scrap against the polished wood floors. The buzz of chatter filled the room. Aggie stood with Gertrude’s help.
“We must get you upstairs to bed. Can you walk?”
Aggie nodded. “I think so.” But the truth was, she wasn’t sure she could move an inch. The pains in her stomach and back were intensifying.
Gertrude spoke to their guests. “I think it’s obvious our little tea party is over, thanks to Miss Spencer. Prudence, I hope you’re satisfied. Did you accomplish your mission here today? Is your curiosity sated? Because if it isn’t, I dare say you won’t get another chance to persecute my daughter-in-law. Not as long as I have a breath in my body.”
Prudence’s face morphed from worry to shock. “Gertrude, I can assure you, that was not my intention. Not in the leas—”
“There is nothing you can say that will assure me of anything, Prudence. Now, I’ll ask you all to leave by the same door you entered. And in case you’ve forgotten where that is, Jeffrey will show you the way out. Jeffrey!”
“Yes, Mrs. Hanover?” The butler quickly appeared at the door.
“Show these ladies to the door. And will you find Bennie and have him get Dr. Davenport? And hurry!”
Hiram was a nervous wreck all morning. He glanced at the clock again. He could swear time had stopped completely since he had left the house this morning.
It was nearly one o’clock. The tea party should be in full swing right about now. He hoped things were going well. Another look at the clock and he sighed.
Jason entered his office with the finished legal brief Hiram had been waiting on. “Still worried about the tea party back at your house?” his secretary asked as he laid the papers on Hiram’s desk. He sat in the
chair across from Hiram’s desk and waited for him to review the papers and sign them.
Hiram pulled the papers toward him and flipped through them, checking the details, and making certain everything was correct. “Honestly, Jason. I’m shaking in my boots. I shouldn’t have given in to Prudence Pendergast’s demands. I’m not sure why I did, to be honest. I guess I was hoping that Aggie and Prudence would hit it off and everything would just…work out, I suppose.”
Jason smirked and made a sound that could have been considered rude in mixed company. “The woman is a force to be reckoned with, Mr. Hanover. My mother has been at the dressmaker shop during a time when Mrs. Pendergast was there. Apparently, the woman has an iron will that will not be deterred. She’s used to getting her way, and quite frankly, she couldn’t stand not being the center of attention.”
Hiram had known of the woman’s reputation, but he had to admit until she had invaded his office last week, he’d had no idea how intimidating the woman could be. “Yes, well she has no real power over anyone. Her husband has a healthy bank account, but then so do a number of other men, including myself. I don’t need her husband’s favors or his influence, but for some reason, she is a master at pushing people into giving her what she wants, regardless of what she is asking for.”
“Perhaps you should put her on your legal counsel team, sir. She could stare down the members of the jury during one of your cases while you argue the points. They wouldn’t dare vote against your client. Not if they had to deal with Prudence Pendergast’s ire afterwards.” Jason laughed at his own joke.
Hiram thought the idea had merit until he thought about having to deal with the woman every day. That would never work. “I’ll just stick to my own talents. In the meantime, here are the changes to the brief. If you could get them done, I’d like to sign it before I leave for court.”
The doorbell sounded announcing someone had entered through the front door. “Hello? Where is Jason? Where is everyone? Hiram? Has everyone abandoned this place in my absence?” Hiram’s father’s voice boomed throughout the office. Klaus Hanover was a man of medium height, but he was large on personality. His handlebar mustache was quite magnificent and often arrived before the man did.
“In here, Father. Jason and I are in my office,” Hiram called out.
As Jason stood and left the office, Hiram turned to see his father’s ample girth walking through his office door. “Hello, Father. I’m glad to see you are finally home. It seems like you’ve been gone for weeks. Were you able to get our client’s interests taken care of?” Hiram rose and met his father halfway to the door. They hugged each other warmly.
“Yes, everything has been taken care of. All tidied up nicely. Mr. Benjamin Westchester is now the proud owner of Philadelphia’s newest fish processing plant. Although I must admit I’m not partial to the smells of the place, he seemed quite pleased with his acquisition. His bank should be wiring us our money tomorrow for services rendered,” his father reported.
“Excellent. I’m delighted to hear it,” Hiram said. “That should make our competitors sit up and take notice that the legal team of Hanover and Hanover is not to be underestimated.”
His father slapped him on the shoulder. “How have things been here? How’s your mother? I wanted to surprise your her, but I didn’t want to have to leave again so soon and come to the office. So, I decided to drop off the papers from my trip before I went home. Come to my office, son. Tell me all about what’s been going on since I left. How’s that beautiful wife of yours?”
His father turned and left Hiram’s office, crossing the wide hallway, into his own oversized office. It was true the room was bigger than most, but it fit his father’s personality—and his waist size.
Once they were seated, his father shuffled the papers from his travel case to his desk. “Now, tell me all about what’s been happening in my absence.”
Hiram spent the next fifteen minutes telling his father about the progress of their law cases, the half dozen new cases Hiram had agreed to take on in his father’s absence, and about Prudence Pendergast’s visit, and the tea party that was going on as they were sitting there calmly talking.
His father’s eyes grew round. “What? Are you telling me that right now, in our home, your mother and your wife are sitting at a table with Prudence Pendergast? And you think, or rather you hope, they are calmly chatting about hats and dresses and next week’s socials?”
Hiram knew it sounded far-fetched. But he knew his mother well enough that if things got out of hand, she would put a stop to it immediately. “I know it sounds ridiculous. And I’m still puzzled by the ease in which the woman manipulated me. My only excuse is that I wanted Aggie to feel welcome here in Boston. To feel at home among our friends and social acquaintances. I suppose I had hoped that if things went well with Prudence and her circle of friends, Aggie would feel more included. Less lonely. Less...”
“Homesick?” his father offered.
“Yes, I suppose that’s the right word,” Hiram admitted.
“Son, are you afraid that once the baby is born, she might decide to return home?”
Hiram jumped from his chair and paced. “This is her home now. This is where she belongs. We are her family. Me, you, and Mother. There’s nothing left for her in Savannah or anywhere else down south,” Hiram protested.
“I know that, son. And you know that. But are you convinced that your wife knows that?” His father rose and came to stand beside him placing a large hand on Hiram’s shoulder followed by a comforting squeeze.
“Yes, Father. She knows. At least I think I see signs that she knows. This last week or so, Aggie has been trying to come out of her sadness at all she has lost. We’ve been spending time together. We talked about names for the baby. She offered to let me help choose. She even kissed me. Like a wife might kiss her husband. I just hope I’m not fooling myself into seeing what I want to see.”
“Hiram, son. You are a very practical man. I doubt you would—”
A boy’s frantic voice interrupted their conversation. “Mr. Hanover! Mr. Hanover, come quick!” Hiram and his father rushed to the front office to see what was amiss and found Bennie, their houseboy, in quite an agitated state.
“What is it Bennie? What has happened?” his father exclaimed.
“Mrs. Hanover sent me to get you, sir.” Hiram’s heart plummeted when the boy addressed him instead of his father. “She said hurry…home…as fast…as fast as you can.” The boy gulped air between words.
“I’m on my way. Tell me what has happened. Tell me this minute.” Hiram grabbed his coat from his office, and his father did the same. Together they rushed to the door pushing the lad out into the street. “Now tell us, Bennie. What is wrong? Is Mrs. Hanover alright? Has something happened to my wife? My mother? Speak, lad.” Hiram gripped the boy by the back of his neck and pushed him to go faster in the direction of home. His heart pounded in his chest while his pulse raced. Fear of the unknown was making it hard to breathe.
The lad spoke as he hurried in front of Hiram. “Mrs. Hanover sent Jeffrey for the doctor and she sent me for you.”
Frustration clipped his words. “Which Mrs. Hanover, Bennie? Please be clear in your message.”
“Mrs. Hanover—your mum—sent me to fetch you because the other Mrs. Hanover—your wife—was carried up to her room.” The boy huffed.
“And you don’t know what happened?” Klaus asked the boy.
Hiram was a little bit worried about his father’s red face and labored breathing as they nearly ran all those blocks home, but his father stayed right in step with him and the boy.
“I don’t know, sir, but I did hear Gladys say that one of the ladies at the party was yelling at Mrs. Hanover—your wife—and it upset her. She grabbed her stomach and fell over. Then Mrs. Hanover—your mum—sent everyone home and then sent Jeffrey for the doctor. And me to fetch you.”
Hiram shot a pointed look to his father. “If Prudence Pendergast or any of her little bitc�
��”
Hiram cut a look toward the boy and rephrased his choice of word. “If any of her little friends have upset Aggie and caused her or the baby harm, I swear I will make it my mission to run them all out of this town for good.”
“I am with you, son. I’m right there with you.” His father huffed as the three of them rounded the last corner and ran up the stairs to their front door.
Before they could reach for the doorknob, the door swung open and his mother greeted them. Hiram’s heart sank to the bottom of his stomach when he saw his mother’s face streaked with tears.
“Oh, Hiram. Klaus, darling. I’m so glad you’re both here.” She rushed into her husband’s waiting arms and sobbed.
“Mother, please tell me what happened. Where is Aggie?” Hiram begged.
“I’ll tell you what happened later. Aggie is up in her room with Dr. Davenport,” his mother said between sniffles. “Go to her, son. Go to her now. She needs her husband beside her. She needs you.”
Hiram raced up the stairs two at a time. Dread settled deep and bitter in his gut. If he hadn’t allowed that damn woman to persuade him to let her near Aggie, this wouldn’t be happening. It was all his fault. He hoped Aggie could forgive him.
Chapter 8
Aggie’s bedroom was draped in darkness. As soon as Dr. Davenport arrived, in a flurry of activity and orders, he instructed the shades be drawn and everyone out of her room, including her incredibly worried mother-in-law. For the last half hour, she had been lying amid soft linens, doubts, and an enormous amount of fear.
She knew the doctor was worried too, and that made her worry even more. What if something was wrong with the baby? She would never forgive herself if she allowed that woman to upset her to the point of harming her unborn child. It was—unforgivable.
A hard knock at her door was followed by her husband. He rushed into the room and his usually carefree expression was now marred with worry.
Dr. Davenport turned at Hiram’s entrance and immediately told him to leave. “Mr. Hanover, I’m still conducting your wife’s exam. Please wait downstairs with—”
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