The Dilemma of Charlotte Farrow (16 page)

 17 

F
lora Banning's face was as red as Charlotte had ever seen it.

Charlotte was pouring coffee in the parlor after dinner two days later. The meal had been uneventful as far as Banning dinners went. They hosted no guests, and in fact young Richard was not there, having accepted an invitation to dine with a friend's family. Miss Emmaline had been out all afternoon—leaving Charlotte to walk the baby herself—and remarked more than once how tired she was and that she had a mind to cancel her engagements for the next several days. After dinner, Samuel, Flora, and Emmaline moved to the parlor. Leo and Oliver went about their own business, as they usually did in the evenings. But a routine evening erupted into a spectacle as Flora Banning read the handwritten note on pale pink paper that had come in that day's mail.

Flora waved the paper in the air. “I demand an explanation!”

Samuel raised an eyebrow at his wife's outburst. “What on earth are you going on about?”

“This note! It came in today's mail, and I've only just now had a chance to read it.”

“Who is it from?” Samuel accepted the cup and saucer
Charlotte offered, the coffee sweetened heavily the way he liked it.

“Louisa. It's brief, but clearly something has gone amiss, and I want to know what it was.”

“My dear, I still don't understand what you're talking about.” Samuel set his coffee down, reached across the end table that separated him from his wife, took the note from her hand, adjusted his glasses on his nose, and read aloud. “Dear Flora, You can imagine my disappointment to learn that someone with an attachment to the child has come forward. Of course this may be the best thing for the boy if it is a blood relation. Under the circumstances, though, I believe we will delay our visit to Chicago and the fair until the wound of disappointment is not so fresh as it is just now. Yours truly, Louisa.”

“What is she talking about?” Flora demanded. “I know nothing of anyone with a claim on the child. He's been here five weeks in the care of the staff.”

Charlotte poured another cup of coffee and handed it to Emmaline Brewster, keeping her eyes from staring at the face of the woman in a copper-colored satin gown with pearl buttons Charlotte herself had buttoned up the back three hours ago.

When Emmaline took the saucer, the cup rattled uncharacteristically.

Emmaline immediately set the coffee down on the table on front of the settee. This situation required all her concentration. She had known this moment would come, but she reasoned that time was on her side. The longer she was in
the Banning house spending time with the child, the more sensible her plan would seem when it was discovered.

“Flora,” Emmaline said at last, “I am the one with an attachment to the baby.”

“You? What attachment? What are you talking about?”

Emmaline folded her hands together and laid them calmly in her lap. “He's an attractive, agreeable child, and he has stolen my heart,” she said simply. “As you know, I often take him out in the afternoons, and we are very comfortable together.”

Flora's face was no less red. “But what possible claim could you have on an abandoned child? He can't be yours!”

“No, he is not mine—yet. I would like him to be. My claim is simply that I find him enchanting and have formed an attachment. He knows me now and responds well. You know I can give him a good home with many advantages.”

“But it was all arranged with Louisa, and you knew that!” Flora was on her feet now. “Why would you interfere without the courtesy of speaking to me?”

Emmaline had been calculating for weeks how she would comport herself in this inevitable moment. “I regret I was silent so long and let Louisa's hopes be raised, but she is young and married and will have many opportunities for family happiness ahead of her.”

“How could you take matters into your own hands when you knew I had written to Louisa?” Flora slapped the arm of her chair with the letter.

“I believe I have been brought to Chicago at this time to meet this child,” Emmaline said, “and our futures are bound together.”

Flora and Samuel stared at her, speechless, so Emmaline continued.

“I will need to have some renovation done on my house, of course, and I'm prepared to begin the arrangements immediately to make ready a proper nursery. My butler can engage a nursemaid. I am unsure of the legalities of adopting an abandoned child, but it can't be difficult. After all, thousands of children every year are put on trains and sent west to find new homes.”

“I have already looked into the process,” Samuel admitted. “I anticipated that need on Louisa's behalf. The laws are fairly loose.”

“Then we're halfway there,” Emmaline said. “Of course I would want a legal adoption. He would be my son in every sense.”

“It's a matter of due diligence to be sure we cannot locate his mother.” Samuel stroked his chin. “It does not seem as if that should be troublesome.”

“Samuel!” Flora put one hand on a hip. “You cannot seriously entertain this notion.”

Emmaline was prepared for this objection. “I did not expect Samuel to represent my interests in making Teddy mine permanently.”

“Teddy?” Flora asked.

“Short for Theodore,” Emmaline explained. “The name means ‘gift of God,' and I believe this child is a gift from God to me at this point in my life.”

“Emmaline, your behavior shocks me.” Flora sank back in her chair. “Clearly you have given this a great deal of thought without so much as a word to me.”

“I understand you are shocked.” Emmaline buried her hands in the folds of her skirt. “I don't mean to hurt anyone. This must seem rash to you, but I promise you it is not. I
believe things happen for a reason. I believe God has brought me to this house at the same time as he brought this child to your home because he wants the two of us to be together. My claim to this child is divine providence.”

“How do you know divine providence does not intend this child for Louisa?” Flora's pitch rose.

“Because I am here, and she is not. God is answering my prayers in his own way.”

“We need not decide anything tonight,” Samuel intoned. “Perhaps we should reserve further discussion for a more suitable time.”

“Yes, of course.” Emmaline gathered her skirts and stood up. “I should retire for the evening and give you some time to think about this.” She turned to Charlotte. “Would you please come upstairs as soon as you're finished clearing up in here?”

“Yes, miss,” Charlotte said softly.

Was Miss Emmaline right? Did things happen for a reason? Did God orchestrate meetings between lonely women and motherless little boys?

Except he wasn't motherless.

Charlotte fingered the crumpled envelope she always kept in her apron pocket—she could not risk anyone finding it unattended. Lina seemed to have forgotten all about it, and Charlotte had avoided Archie for the last two days. She evaded his glance at the table where the staff shared their meals. If he came into the kitchen for any purpose during the day, she found a reason to step out without speaking to him or even looking in his direction.

Two days after the kiss, she still felt the sensation of his
hand against her face, of his lips on hers, of his arms around her, and the warmth of her own response.

It had been a mistake, and she could not afford to make another one.

She had stayed in the parlor long enough to clear away the coffee service. Both the Bannings lost interest in coffee and dessert after Emmaline's revelation. Charlotte returned the service cart to the kitchen and left the washing up for Sarah, turning her focus to what awaited her in Miss Lucy's old suite.

On the second floor, she knocked on the door and entered when Emmaline responded. Emmaline was seated at the vanity, removing pins from her hair. Charlotte moved across the room and took over the task, laying the hairpins in a neat row.

“Would you like to take off your gown now?” Charlotte asked. “Then I'll brush out your hair.”

Emmaline stood up and moved away from the vanity, while Charlotte fetched a nightdress and robe from a hook in the closet. After laying them on the chaise lounge, Charlotte set to work on the tedious row of tiny pearl buttons up the back of the gown, pulling each one out of the thin braided loop that held it in place.

“I suppose you have an opinion about what happened in the parlor,” Miss Emmaline said.

Charlotte swallowed. “It's not my place, miss.”

“No, I suppose not. All you did was find Teddy outside. But I've seen you with him, so I know you're far from heartless when it comes to his best interests.”

“A child deserves the best his parents can give him,” Charlotte said cautiously.

“And if he has no parents?”

Charlotte fumbled with a stubborn loop but said nothing.

“I don't know Cousin Louisa,” Emmaline said. “She may even be a distant relative of mine, since we are both related to Flora somehow. I never meant to hurt her. I am not a cruel person, Charlotte.”

“No, of course not, miss.”

“Flora likes to manage things,” Emmaline said. “She's been that way for as long as I can remember, whether I was visiting Chicago or she came to New Hampshire to see the family there. She has a fixed way of thinking about how things ought to be done.”

“Yes, miss.” Charlotte's fingers trembled at the top button.

“Sometimes it's not necessary to manage a situation,” Emmaline continued. “Sometimes the answer is staring you in the face, and all you have to do is see it. That's all I've done.”

Charlotte eased the gown off Emmaline's shoulders and down below her waist, holding it in place while Emmaline stepped out of its fullness. She laid the dress on the bed to hang up later, then turned to undo Emmaline's corset. A few minutes later, Emmaline sat again at the vanity, this time in a nightgown, while Charlotte stood behind her, brushing out thick auburn hair.

“Did they say anything after I left the parlor?” Emmaline asked.