An Uncertain Dream (9 page)
‘‘I’m absolutely fine. He worries when there is no reason. The doctor assures me everything is progressing normally and on schedule. I admit the heat gets dreadfully difficult to bear at times, but overall we are both doing well.’’ Martha glanced toward the kitchen. ‘‘When you come to visit again, it would be better if you didn’t bring Fred along.’’
Olivia frowned. ‘‘Why not? We are all friends.’’
‘‘Albert worries he won’t be rehired if he associates too closely with those leading the strike.’’ She grasped Olivia’s hand. ‘‘It’s because of me and the baby. He wants to be a good provider.’’
‘‘All of the men in Pullman want to be good providers, Martha. That’s why they’ve gone on strike—so they will receive a livable wage.’’
‘‘I don’t want to argue or cause strife between us, but I wanted you to know that Fred’s presence causes Albert grave discomfort.’’
‘‘Since Fred and I are frequently seen together, I would think my presence would cause him distress, too.’’
‘‘Perhaps a little, but not so much as Fred’s.’’ Martha had just confirmed what Fred suspected. Her cousin planned to distance himself from anyone who fervently supported the union movement.
When the clock chimed, Olivia jumped to her feet. ‘‘I didn’t realize the time. We should be on our way. I’ll do my best to stop again when time permits. We’re quite busy at the hotel, so I can’t make any promises.’’
‘‘Of course. I understand.’’
There was no need for further explanation. They both understood that until the strike ended, their visits would be rare.
When a message arrived for Chef René to join Mr. Howard in his office on Monday morning, Olivia feared fireworks would result.
‘‘Tell him I will come once the guests have all been served breakfast,’’ he told the messenger.
Olivia signaled the kitchen boy to wait. She stepped to Chef René’s side. ‘‘I think you should reconsider. If you anger him too much, he may fire Mrs. DeVault. You have no power to place her name on the payroll without his approval. Perhaps you should tread lightly this one time.’’
His toque drooped to one side when he offered a firm nod. ‘‘You are correct. This is not the time to put my importance to the test. However, we both know Mr. Howard would be required to close the kitchen without us. If we refuse to work unless Mrs. DeVault is placed on the payroll—’’
‘‘Are you advocating a strike of our own?’’
‘‘It is an exciting idea, non?’’ He chuckled. ‘‘I will take your advice and go to Mr. Howard. However, if he refuses my request to place Mrs. DeVault on the hotel payroll, then you and I must force his hand and stage our own walkout, Miss Mott.’’
‘‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.’’ She gave him a fleeting smile. ‘‘Offer to prepare your stuffed pork chops if the situation becomes difficult.’’
‘‘Miss Mott! Are you suggesting I stoop to bribery?’’ The chef ’s hearty laugh resonated as he walked down the hallway. She hoped he would follow her advice. Otherwise, all three of them could be unemployed before the day’s end.
London, England
Charlotte selected a fan and a pair of gloves before she strode down the hallway to her mother’s bedroom. She rapped on the heavy wooden door and waited. When there was no response, she waited a few moments and knocked once again.
‘‘Mother! I know you’re in there. Must I forgo all civility and enter without your permission?’’ Charlotte tapped her foot and silently counted. When she reached ten, she placed her hand on the doorknob. ‘‘Mother?’’
‘‘Oh, do cease your nattering and come in.’’ Her mother, still in her dressing gown, sat in front of one of the windows that looked down upon the summer garden. With her arms tightly folded across her chest, she speared Charlotte with an angry gaze. ‘‘You know I dislike being disturbed so early in the morning.’’
‘‘It is not early, and you’re hiding simply to avoid me. The moment my carriage departs, you will flee to Hargrove Estates and trifle away the hours with the marchioness. You need to face the truth. For the final time, I beg you to come with me to Mr. Proctor’s office.’’
‘‘I have no intention of darkening the doorway of that man. If he had any respect for me or your deceased father, he would come to Lanshire Hall.’’
‘‘He attempted to arrange a visit last week, and you banished him from the grounds with strict orders never again to step foot in Lanshire Hall.’’
Her mother shrugged. ‘‘He should have waited an appropriate period of time before requesting a meeting.’’
‘‘You should be grateful Mr. Proctor concerns himself with our welfare rather than with stuffy English propriety. I admire his desire to do Father’s bidding. I should think you would be most grateful. Instead, you are rude and treat him with disdain.’’
Her mother continued to stare out the window, seemingly unaffected by Charlotte’s harsh comment. ‘‘He is a solicitor. They always bear bad tidings. And even more loathsome, they expect to have their pockets lined with sterling after delivering their unsavory news. I choose to ignore them.’’
‘‘No good purpose will be served by your conduct, but if I cannot convince you to accompany me, then
I
shall attend to the matter.’’ There was much to be accomplished this day, and Charlotte couldn’t waste further time in tiresome discourse.
Once she’d settled inside the carriage, Charlotte ignored the discomfort of jostling over rutted roads and cobblestone streets. She had prepared a list of questions and prayed Mr. Proctor would have a measure of good news for her.
When she arrived, Mr. Proctor’s clerk escorted Charlotte directly into the solicitor’s office. ‘‘I appreciate the fact that you are prompt, sir,’’ she said.
Mr. Proctor waited until Charlotte sat down; then he settled behind his massive mahogany desk. ‘‘I only wish I had a better report for you.’’ He fidgeted with the sheaf of papers arranged before him. ‘‘I am thankful your father gave you warning of his financial condition prior to his death. I advised him to do so. Otherwise, I can’t imagine being forced to deliver such news to you and your mother.’’ He pushed several papers across the desk. ‘‘I had hoped your mother would join us today.’’
Charlotte glanced at the papers. They looked much like the ones she’d received from her father. ‘‘Mother says she’s not up to unpleasant conversation, though she’ll soon be forced to take stock of her financial condition.’’
The solicitor arched his bushy dark brows. ‘‘And why is that?’’
‘‘I plan to return to America. My mother is unwilling to leave England. I do understand her decision, but she will be required to deal with this awkward state of affairs.’’
Mr. Proctor rubbed his jaw and nodded. ‘‘A fine kettle of fish, I fear. You’ll note that there is nothing but debt. Lanshire Hall will be lost, along with all the contents. I trust you will advise your mother to secure her jewels if she has hope of keeping them. Perhaps Lord Chesterfield could see to that matter for her?’’
‘‘I plan to visit Lord and Lady Chesterfield when we’ve finished our meeting. I will speak to him on my mother’s behalf.’’ She perused what seemed an endless list of debts and then met the solicitor’s intense stare. ‘‘Am I to conclude that all is lost, then?’’
‘‘Nearly all. Your father did entrust me with a small sum of money to be divided between you and your mother upon his death. I would strongly advise you keep this our secret. Those to whom your father owed money will show you no mercy if they discover even this meager amount is available.’’ He removed a small leather pouch from his desk drawer and handed it to her. ‘‘I trust you will use it wisely.’’
‘‘Indeed, I will. Thank you for your service to my father. If my mother should be in need of—’’
‘‘I will do whatever possible. Your father was a dear friend for many years.’’ Sadness clouded the solicitor’s eyes as he walked her to the door and bid her farewell.
Charlotte longed to return to Lanshire Hall, but this final leg of her journey could not be postponed any longer. Leaning back in the carriage, she closed her eyes. Perhaps she could devise some simple method to broach the topic of her mother with Lord and Lady Chesterfield during the carriage ride to their estate.
When she arrived at Briarwood, Charlotte still hadn’t decided upon a plan. The maid escorted her to one of the small sitting rooms while she went to fetch Lady Chesterfield. If Charlotte could speak to her mother’s half sister alone, perhaps things would go more smoothly.
At the sound of voices, Charlotte glanced toward the door. Her spirits plunged when both Lord and Lady Chesterfield entered the room. Lady Chesterfield raised her brows until they disappeared beneath the fringe of curls on her forehead. ‘‘To what do we owe this
unexpected
visit?’’
Charlotte had known that her unsolicited call would not be appreciated, but she possessed neither the time nor the energy to follow social protocol, especially with Lord and Lady Chesterfield. ‘‘Since we are family, I trust you will forgive my breach of etiquette.’’
Lady Chesterfield sighed and waved for Charlotte to sit on one of the chairs while Lord Chesterfield frowned and stroked his chin.
‘‘I do hope this won’t take long. Lady Chesterfield and I have plans for the remainder of the day.’’
‘‘Not long at all. I’ve just come from the solicitor’s office, where I’ve gone over matters concerning my father’s estate.’’
Those words were of enough interest for Lord Chesterfield, or Chessie, as everyone called him, to promptly sit down beside his wife. ‘‘There are rumors that your father was insolvent, you know.’’ A man who had never been popular with other members of nobility, Lord Chesterfield had always resented those who were easily accepted. And Charlotte’s father had been one of those men.
‘‘Unfortunately, the rumors are valid.’’ News that the Earl of Lanshire had squandered his holdings appeared to give Chessie a great deal of satisfaction. Had Charlotte not required their charity, she would have walked out without another word. Instead, she forced a wan smile. ‘‘It is for that very reason I’ve come here.’’
Lady Chesterfield leaned forward and patted Charlotte’s hand. ‘‘How is my sister contending with this dreadful ordeal?’’
‘‘She avoids discussing it. However, I plan to return to America, and Mother refuses to accompany me. Lanshire Hall will soon be sold, and she is in need of a place to live. Since you are her only living relative . . .’’
The older couple exchanged a guarded look. ‘‘I suppose you expect
me
to provide for her,’’ Chessie said.
‘‘I do believe it is your obligation, sir.’’ Charlotte did her best to keep a civil tone, but she longed to tell him exactly what she thought of his pompous behavior. ‘‘I’m certain you’re pleased you won’t have the added burden of my son and me. I depart in two weeks.’’
‘‘So soon?’’ Lady Chesterfield clasped her bodice. ‘‘You haven’t given us much notice, Charlotte.’’
‘‘I feared you might flee the country,’’ she said, forcing a laugh. Although Lord and Lady Chesterfield joined in her laughter, Charlotte knew her statement contained more truth than fiction.
Two weeks later, Charlotte stood in front of the mirror and donned a hat of fancy straw adorned with a cluster of yellow roses that were an exact match to the accordion-pleated silk bodice of her summer gown. Her young son toddled across the room, dragging her lace and beribboned parasol, apparently anxious to depart. Charlotte smiled at the child. She hoped he would behave as pleasantly on their voyage.
‘‘Are you prepared for our journey, Morgan?’’
He turned away from her and pushed the parasol in front of him like a shovel. Once he reached the closed bedroom door, he shouted, ‘‘Ope!’’
Charlotte laughed at his antics. ‘‘Ope-nn,’’ she said, using her tongue and lips in an exaggerated movement to form the final letter.
Instead of repeating her, Morgan slapped the parasol handle on the wooden door. Charlotte hurried to his side and removed the sunshade from his hand. ‘‘I’ll take that before you manage to hurt yourself.’’
‘‘Or ruin your parasol,’’ Beatrice added. ‘‘You’re going to have your hands full once you’re on board the ship. Are you certain you don’t want me to accompany you?’’
Charlotte could hear the pain in Beatrice’s question. The nursemaid would have great difficulty adjusting to the departure of her young charge, and though Charlotte would welcome help on the voyage, Beatrice had been clear: she didn’t want to remain in America. And Charlotte couldn’t afford to use her meager funds on round-trip passage for the nursemaid. There were more pressing items for which she would need the money when she arrived in Chicago.
Beatrice scooped the child into her arms and nuzzled his neck with kisses. ‘‘I’m going to miss this fine little boy,’’ she whispered into his neck.
Morgan giggled with delight and snatched the frilly white mobcap from her head. He tossed it in the air and then wriggled until Beatrice returned him to the floor, where he promptly retrieved the cap and pulled it over his blond curls. Both women laughed at his antics, and soon he joined in their laughter.
‘‘It sounds as though there’s a celebration taking place in here.’’
All three of them turned toward the door, but it was Charlotte who waved her mother into the room. ‘‘Come join us.’’ She pointed toward Morgan. ‘‘Your grandson is entertaining us this morning.’’
The countess offered a brief smile and then motioned for Beatrice to take Morgan from the room. ‘‘I’d like to speak to my daughter privately.’’ Her gaze remained fixed on Beatrice while she trundled Morgan from the room.
Once the door closed, the countess sat down and shifted her attention to Charlotte. ‘‘You know I dislike begging, but I’ve come to make one final plea. I don’t know how I’m going to manage if you depart.’’
‘‘I’ll not be dissuaded at this late date, Mother. My ship sails this afternoon. We’ve already discussed this issue in detail.’’ Charlotte crossed the room and sat down on the brocade settee beside her mother. ‘‘You will always be welcome to come to America. I don’t know what accommodations I’ll be able to offer you, but I would take pleasure in having you live with Morgan and me.’’
Charlotte’s offer was sincere, although both of them knew it wouldn’t be accepted. The countess would not permanently leave her homeland—she’d made her decision quite clear when Charlotte had initially suggested the move after the visit with Mr. Proctor.
