Banished Love (27 page)

“Chester Square?” I asked at almost the same time, incredulous that Florence had lived in the South End, and I had never met her.

“You knew Mrs. Kruger?” Florence asked Mrs. Chickering.

“I did. Though to my everlasting regret, I did not give her the time she merited. I always intended to call, sending my card numerous times but failed to show,” Sophie stated. “She had a keen mind, extraordinarily curious about the world. Far too advanced for the age she had been born into.”

“Yes, well, she treated me quite well and helped to see to my future,” Florence said.

“You were fortunate indeed, dear, to work for one such as her,” Sophie intoned. “So now you teach the downtrodden at the same school as my girl Clarissa?”

“Yes, I specialize in the home economics courses, though I am trained in all subjects,” Florence murmured.

“Which is a good thing, as I am absolutely dreadful with anything to do with the home arts, and she constantly saves me from being reprimanded by the school board,” I interjected.

“Are you telling me that you will not be able to run a successful home and create a pleasing home environment?” Sophie demanded with an evil twinkle in her eye.

“I doubt it would meet my stepmother’s standards.” I giggled. Sophie began to chortle, too.

“Ah, that woman is insufferable. Count yourself fortunate if you have never met her, Florence,” Sophie said.

I saw Florence glance at the clock on the mantel. “I am dreadfully sorry to have to leave,” she said. “I have a prior engagement and must go.”

I watched her through slitted eyes, not believing her ruse, but decided not to press her. I clasped her hand. “Thank you for joining me today, Flo.”

“You are always welcome for tea, Florence Butler,” Sophie said. “I should like to discuss Mrs. Kruger more with you.”

After Florence’s hasty departure, I leaned back against my chair, relaxing. “Thank you for being so friendly and kind to Florence.”

“She seems a lost soul,” Sophie said, watching me.

“She is. She has no one in this world. No family. Nothing.”

“
Humph
,” Sophie grunted. “As long as she has good friends, she will never be truly alone.” After a short pause, “I am disappointed, my girl.”

I raised my eyebrows, certain I had done nothing to disappoint her.

“You were not at the celebration for Mrs. Ward-Howe.”

“But I was,” I protested, though I did not relish reliving that day.

“Why weren’t you on the porch with the rest of us?” Sophie demanded, glowering at me.

“I was informed by Gertrude and Mrs. Cushing that, because I wasn’t on the committee, I wasn’t allowed on the porch.”

“Nonsense!” Sophie hissed. “I can’t imagine such insolence.”

I shrugged.

“You mean to tell me that you were down in that crowd?”

This time I nodded.

Sophie sighed. “It’s all my fault you know. It’s because the younger ones dislike me and are trying to show their mettle that they treat you like that.”

“Well, suffice it to say, it wasn’t my ideal afternoon,” I murmured, refusing to dwell further on the memory of the crowd, the jostling for position, the sense that I would be crushed.

“Harrumph,” Sophie said, causing me to laugh.

We sat in companionable silence a few moments. “Sophie, I do not have your backbone,” I admitted with a long sigh.

“Clarissa, my girl, tell me what the matter is so I can help you dispel it,” Sophronia said, her tone expressing she had no doubt of her ability.

“I watch you interact with the other suffragettes and with my stepmother, and I see how strong you are. I see how passionate you are in your beliefs. I am amazed at your ability to communicate them and persuade others to your way of thinking. I do not have such an ability.”

“What is this nonsense?”

“Sophie, a few times, when I have been pushed about my beliefs, I back down, rather than start an argument. Isn’t that wrong?” I said. “Shouldn’t I stand up, express myself?”

“It’s not wrong knowing the time and the place to say your piece. And for my part, there’s never a better place to speak your mind than with a group of suffragettes. If you can’t with them, you can’t anywhere,” she said with another
harrumph
. She pinned me with a humor-filled look. “And I particularly enjoyed irritating your stepmother.”

“How did you have a full life, marriage, children and also suffragism?” I asked. “Do you think your husband would have approved?”

She eyed me over her teacup, taking a dainty sip of oolong. “So this is about a man?” At my faint blush, she chortled. “Ah, dear, I know some of the suffragettes, including Susan, never espoused marriage. But to the right man, it can be wonderful. You simply must take care and choose the correct one.”

“You make it sound so simple,” I replied, thoughts of Gabriel flitting through my mind. Sophie merely laughed, reminding me that she had raised daughters and must be used to such antics.

“Tell me about your young man,” Sophie demanded.

“Gabriel is…he is…” I paused finding it difficult to summarize. “He is the antithesis of Cameron. Dark. Moody. Intense. Loyal. Intriguing.” I sighed. “He loves to read, is curious about the world. Dreams of travel and adventure.”

“Fascinating,” Sophronia said. “What worries you?”

“That he seems to support my teaching and beliefs now, but will that all change if we were to marry, have children? Do men always change?” I asked in confusion and frustration.

“No more than we do, dearest,” Sophie replied with a wry quirk on her lips. “We change just as much, though no one likes to admit it. Only you can decide if he is worth taking that risk. Otherwise, if your teaching and beliefs are that important to you, you need to remain single.”

“How were you able to have a family and be a suffragette? Did your husband understand your need for, oh, I don’t know,
more
?” I asked, leaning forward.

“You must remember, Clarissa, that, though I had a wonderful husband who was very supportive, he died early in our marriage. I have no idea if he would have supported my beliefs, and we were never tested in that way. By the time he died, I had three young children to care for, but he had thankfully left me a very wealthy young widow.” Sophie stared into the painting on the far wall for a few moments.

“Never underestimate the importance of financial independence, my girl. I had this lovely house, maids, nannies, others to help me with the day-to-day running of my life. After I finished the worst of my mourning, I had freedom—such a luxurious, rare commodity—to discover what truly interested me. And so I did.”

In the ensuing silence, I considered her words.

“Do you know what I find interesting as you talked about your young man?” Sophie asked, watching me with intense but wicked humor in her eyes.

I shook my head, uncertain how I could have amused her.

“I find it fascinating that in no part of that description did you talk about his physical characteristics.”

“Oh, well, I could if you like,” I stammered out.

“No, I am only remarking that it bodes well that it is not merely the physical that has you enthralled,” Sophie replied.

I nodded my agreement.

“It means that you don’t want one of those silly so-called happy and ‘get with’ marriages,” Sophronia said.

“Get with?”

“Where you think you’re so happy, you get with child every year, and you’re dead from exhaustion by age thirty-five,” Sophie said. “I hope you would want more than that.”

I blushed fiercely at the thought of having Gabriel’s child. I nodded again, out of breath all of a sudden.

“And now, my girl,” she said with a small chuckle, glancing at the clock, “I am afraid your stepmother would become quite cross if I kept you here any longer.”

“Thank you for tea, Sophie,” I said. “I will try to call again soon, although things will be hectic with my cousin’s upcoming wedding.”

“I shall look forward to reading about it in the papers,” Sophie said with another of her wicked smiles.

***

I DETOURED THROUGH THE PUBLIC GARDENS, walking along a path that hugged the pond containing the swan boats. The air smelled sweet from the blooming roses, and birds flitted from tree to tree, singing their songs. I exited onto Arlington Street and paused at the street corner as carriages and carts rushed by. I crossed over, passing a small crowd waiting to board an arriving trolley headed toward the South End.

At that moment, someone grabbed my arm and spun me around. I gasped, shocked to be treated in such a way. “Cameron!” I wrenched at my arm, but he would not release me, and I feared he would rip my light jacket. “Let me go.”

“No, Clarissa, I must speak with you. I am surprised you felt the need to have Colin protect you at school.”

“So it
was
you Colin saw,” I said with another angry twist of my arm.

“Yes, he prevented me from speaking with you in a civilized way.”

“If you wanted to act cultured, Cameron, you would call at my house. Although it wouldn’t matter. I have no desire to speak with you now or ever again.” I stomped down with the heel of my boot, crushing his toes. He cried out in pain, releasing my arm.

I spun toward the trolley that was just leaving the stop, grabbing onto the bar to pull myself onto the steps. I tripped but held onto the bar and landed with a thud on the trolley’s floor. I heaved myself to my feet, glancing back to see Cameron glaring at me. As the trolley moved away, I shivered, for the first time afraid of Cameron.

***

I SAT IN MY BEDROOM that evening, staring out the back window at the canopy of trees. A deep unease filled me as I thought of Cameron and his recent actions. I listened intently to the sounds of the house, hearing Colin and da’s booming voices as they returned from the smithy. Rising from my seat by the window, I tiptoed to my door, waiting for Colin to ascend the stairs and change for dinner.

“Colin,” I whispered. His head jerked up and he frowned to see me hiding in my room. He was covered in soot with blackened hands. However, he moved toward me and I opened the door allowing him to enter my room.

“I have to wash and dress for dinner. What’s the matter, Rissa?” He reached out as though he were going to stroke my arm, but then stopped when he realized he would leave a black smear on my dusky rose satin dress. Instead, he crossed his arms across his chest and frowned at me.

“I saw Cameron today.”

His eyes flashed with anger. “What did he want?”

“To speak with me,” I said, taking a deep breath to battle the panic I felt at remembering my interaction with Cameron. “I had to jump onto a departing trolley to evade him.”

“The bas-. Did he touch you? Did he hurt you?” His hands were now fisted at his sides.

“Yes, he gripped my arm, but I’m fine.”

Colin reached out and pushed my sleeve up. “You’ll have a bruise, Rissa.”

“I’m sorry, Col.”

“For what, Rissa? You’ve done nothing to encourage him. He’s the one who should be ashamed.”

“But you know how things are, Col. If he is acting this way, people will say it is because I must be doing something to entice him,” I whispered, unable to meet his eyes. “What if my visits to see Gabriel become known? I will seem like a woman vying for the attention of two men. I will be seen as a woman who doesn’t know the bounds of propriety.”

“You, as a suffragette, must know better than that. And when have you ever cared what people say? Or about propriety?” He chucked me under the chin and I met his gaze. His attempt at levity failed to hide his anxiety at my news. “Now you’re so dirty with soot you’ll need to wash up for dinner, too.”

“Col, I can’t tell Da. He’ll stop me from teaching. He’ll insist I stay at home. I can’t be forced to spend my days with Mrs. Smythe.”

“I’ll talk with him, but you have to be willing to accept what he says. What’s most important is ensuring you are safe.”

I nodded my agreement and Colin winked before he slipped out the door.

CHAPTER 28

“LUCAS,” I CALLED OUT. “Lucas!” I thought I had seen Lucas hurrying up the steps into the Old Howard Theater as I neared Scollay Square the following day, but he did not respond to my call. Uncertain if I would be allowed inside, I rushed toward the theater, holding onto my hat, any rapid movement hampered by my long skirts.

My day had so far been uneventful, and I had been thankful for its normalcy. I felt worn- out emotionally after my recent encounters with Gabriel, Florence and Cameron, and relished a quiet day. Florence had apologized for leaving Sophronia’s abruptly, having had an unsuccessful meeting with a society matron about summer tutoring.

I had promised da, after a tense discussion the previous evening in his study, that I would come straight home each day after school. Due to a trolley accident backing up all traffic on Cambridge Street, I had decided I could keep my promise by walking to Scollay Square and boarding one of the underground subway trains. However, after I saw Lucas entering the Old Howard Theater, I decided to postpone my train ride home. Hopefully, he would be able to escort me home and I was curious what he was doing in the West End.

I reached the steps to the Old Howard, a bit fearful about entering the theater unchaperoned on a Friday afternoon. I took a deep breath for courage before ascending the steps, marveling at the three large Gothic-inspired arched glass windows heralding its previous life as a church. As the door squeaked and clunked shut behind me, any resemblance to a church disappeared.

In the dim hallway, I made out plush red rugs and gilt chairs and mirrors, while the faint scent of stale cologne and cheap perfume wafted around me. I heard laughter from the backstage area, imagining the various vaudeville members and burlesque showgirls arriving in preparation for the evening entertainments.

I crept inside and waited for a few moments for someone to catch me skulking in the shadows, but no one arrived. I walked down the dark hallway, belatedly realizing there was a doorway covered in velvet to my right. I poked my head through the curtain into the main theater area.

Only a few electric lights weakly illuminated the stage area, casting long shadows across most of it and the remainder of the theater. I entered into the box nearest the doorway, absently noting the plush red velvet chairs and the flowing curtains on either side of the stage. I focused my attention on the dimly lit stage, where three pianos stood forming a small oval. All three were occupied, two by handsome black men and one by Lucas.