The Grand Masquerade (The Bold Women Series Book 4) (22 page)

“No thank you,” Fletcher said. “I need to wake up early tomorrow and make a difference in the world.”

Sydnee locked eyes with him.

Madame Olmos’ smile dropped, her hopes of an invitation dashed. The only one who laughed was D’anton.

When everyone stood up to leave, Madame Olmos swept out the door, leaving Dr. Locke behind.

Again D’anton looked confused and asked Fletcher, “Is she ill?”

Locke shrugged. “The only thing I know for certain is that she will never want to see
me
again.”

*                   *                    *

Sydnee found it hard to keep up with all the demands on her time. Arrangements had to be made for transporting the women and children; the living quarters had to be stocked regularly with food, and disguises had to be obtained for the runaways.

The salon alone was a full-time job, even with Marie’s help. There was menu planning to be done and daily trips to the market. Sydnee had to coordinate housekeeping and provide entertainment for her guests. She had to stay abreast in politics, world events and books so she could contribute to conversation, and it made her head spin the way Parisian fashions were always changing.

“Marie,” Sydnee called down the hall late one afternoon. “I am off for my fitting.”

“Yes, Mademoiselle Sydnee.”

Taking her parasol, she set out for Tustin Dressmaking, a small boutique with only a few select clientele. Tustin’s made only the finest gowns of the best fabrics, reflecting the latest fashions from Paris. The shop was expensive and exclusive. The only way to do business with them was by introduction. Madame Picard had made arrangements for Sydnee to be fitted there years ago.

The bell tinkled when Sydnee walked in. The shop was an explosion of color with bolts of fabric in stripes and prints, pastels and rich solids. There were ribbons hanging out of drawers and faux flowers in boxes, huge spools of thread, and dressmaker mannequins everywhere.

“
Bon jour
, Mimi.”

“
Bon jour
, Mademoiselle Sauveterre,” said a young woman sitting at a table, sewing.

Mimi Gruenwald was the heart and soul of Tustin Dressmaking. Her talents as a seamstress were known from New Orleans to Baton Rouge to Natchez. She was a free woman of color and had been working for Madame Tustin for the past fifteen years. Everyone knew that without her, Tustin’s would be nothing. She was a quiet young woman, extremely overweight with a pock-marked face. She was not a beauty, but her kind demeanor and gentle nature made her one of the most beloved people in the city.

“Good day, Edith,” said Sydnee to another young woman.

“G’day,” Edith said loudly to Sydnee and then slurped her saliva. Edith was Mimi’s younger sister. The victim of a troubled birth, Edith was mentally slow and had a pronounced limp. She was easy-going and always eager to please.

“Thank you,” Mimi said to her sister, taking the tape measure she brought over.

“No Madame Tustin today?” Sydnee asked.

Mimi stared at Sydnee a moment as if she was going to say something and then replied, “No, she is gone for the evening.”

Madame Tustin was the proprietor of the shop. She was a shrewd businesswoman who knew how to pander to the rich. She had one son, an overbearing twenty-year-old, who would strut through the shop regularly, helping himself to money from the till.

“Shall we begin?” Mimi asked, and Sydnee nodded.

They looked at dressmaker’s dolls displaying the latest fashions from Paris as Edith fetched supplies and awaited instructions. Mimi measured and pinned, wrote down measurements and consulted with Sydnee on orders.

By the time they had finished, the sun had set. “Thank you, Mimi,” Sydnee said, starting for the door. “You will send someone around when the gown is ready?”

“Yes—um, Mademoiselle Sauveterre would you please wait a moment?”

Sydnee turned around. Mimi reached around her, locked the door, and dropped the curtains over the windows.

Sydnee looked at her with surprise.

“May I speak privately with you?” Mimi asked.

“Of course.”

Turning to Edith, Mimi said, “Edith please go in the back and have a slice of cake and look at your picture book.”

Edith nodded and shuffled off into the back of the shop where they lived. Madame Tustin and her son lived upstairs.

Mimi swallowed hard and motioned for Sydnee to take a seat. “I hardly know where to begin,” she murmured. “But I must make haste. You may know that I am friends with Liesl Schiffman. I need your help, Mademoiselle Sauveterre.”

Mimi unbuttoned her dress and lowered the shoulders on her shift. Along her chest and upper arms were dark bruises. She bent down and lifted the skirt of her gown and rolled down her stockings. More dark bruises ran along her shins where she had been kicked.

Sydnee’s eyes narrowed. “Madame Tustin?”

Mimi nodded. “And her son. They do their work where no one can see it.”

“Yes, indeed,” said Sydnee. “They have a reputation to uphold.”

Mimi pulled her gown back up and said, “I have endured it for many years but--”and she hesitated. “Now the son is going after Edith.”

“He hits her as well?”

“Not that,” Mimi said and looked into Sydnee’s eyes.

Sydnee understood what she implied. Knowing there was not a moment to lose, she put her fist to her lips. She said finally, “What time do you expect them to return tonight?”

“Soon.”

“Very well, when you are certain they are asleep come here,” and she scrawled the address of the livery on a piece of paper. Mimi looked at it and handed it back to her. “Take it with you, Mademoiselle Sauveterre. I have memorized it. If they were to find out I was trying to leave, they would threaten Edith’s life just to keep me here. I did not write your name in the appointment book either, just in case.”

“Good, you are very thorough,” said Sydnee, putting the paper in her purse. “I will be waiting for you.”

Late that night Mimi and Edith arrived at the livery in traveling clothes. “Any chance you have been followed?” Sydnee asked.

Mimi shook her head.

“Good, come in.”

Sydnee showed them around, and when Edith was finally asleep, the two women sat down to talk. It was a warm night, and they sat by an open window in the moonlight. Atlantis was at Sydnee’s feet.

“I don’t think it is safe for you to take a riverboat,” whispered Sydnee. “I usually provide my runaways with disguises for the landing, but there is no way to hide Edith’s limp. Even if you were to escape on a paddle wheeler, I believe they will search for you in river towns up and down the Mississippi. You are like gold for them. We must smuggle you to freedom elsewhere.”

“If we don’t take a riverboat, how will we leave?”

“Up the Natchez Trace.”

“That old road up to Nashville?” Mimi whispered.

“The very one. You will go in a cart up to Natchez, and I have a contact there who will escort you the rest of the way.”

“But we cannot walk. Edith’s leg--”

“No, they drive wagons. Nevertheless, it will be a very long and strenuous journey. You will stay in abandoned stands along the way.”

“I will do anything to get Edith away from them.”

“You must rest now,” Sydnee said, standing up. “Atlantis will watch over you. Good night.”

*                   *                    *

Sydnee had to wait full a day until her contact in New Orleans was ready to leave. Her name was Eileen O’Bannon, a large raw-boned Irish woman who had spent many years as a drayman delivering goods between New Orleans and Natchez. Her sister had the same business only she delivered goods between Natchez and Nashville on The Trace. Not everyone could afford to ship goods on the paddle wheelers so there was still demand for overland travel.

Sydnee had met these women several times when she was growing up, and although they were rough and ready, dirty and sometimes dangerous, they had good hearts and would be able to assure Mimi and Edith a safe journey with job prospects in Nashville.

It was extremely perilous smuggling the sisters out of New Orleans. Madame Tustin had the entire city searching for them. The woman labeled it a “kidnapping” and feigned despair at the loss of her loved ones. In reality she was only devastated at her loss of income.

Nevertheless, Sydnee was successful and smuggled them out safely. The clamor for justice was short lived, and after a few days, it was all over. The upper classes liked their fashion, and they soon found a new shop to patronize. Madame Tustin was ruined.

The year came to a close, finding Sydnee overjoyed at the success of her operation. With the help of her agents throughout the South, she successfully smuggled out almost eighty women and children. As she was getting ready for a soiree on New Year’s Day, she drank a champagne toast to the spirits, thanking them for all of her blessings. She had no way of knowing that the new year would bring a very dark turn of events.

Chapter 22

1842

Isabel adored being a mother. She was fulfilled in so many ways, and for several months she was content, but as time passed Sydnee noticed her grow thin and frail again, and the dark rings returned under her eyes. She knew that Isabel was lost without Mortimer. He was the great love of her life, and no amount of distance or time could ever change the devotion. Yet Isabel’s commitment to Delphine never wavered either. She was a good mother and attended to the child’s every need, but it was imperative that she see Mortimer, if only for a short time.

A boy brought a note one afternoon to Sydnee saying that Isabel was coming to see her after the opera that night. Marie put the letter on the entry table, but Sydnee never saw it. When Isabel arrived just before three in the morning in a hackney coach, Sydnee was leaving for a rescue. She opened the door ready to leave, and there stood Isabel.

Sydnee was thunderstruck. “What’s wrong?”

Isabel looked her up and down and said, “Nothing is wrong, but why are you dressed like that?”

A thousand excuses ran through Sydnee’s head, but they all seemed foolish and transparent. When she didn’t answer, Isabel asked, “Didn’t you get my note?”

Sydnee shook her head, confused.

“Well, it is nothing pressing, but I did want to see you. I was wondering if you had any news from Mortimer.”

“No, I have heard nothing from him,” said Sydnee. “I think you should go and see him.”

“Oh, Sydnee, you know that’s impossible.”

At that moment, Frederick pulled up with the carriage, and Sydnee rubbed her forehead. “Can you wait for me? I know the hour is late, but I will return shortly and we can talk, even about my disguise.”

Isabel chuckled and stepped inside, pulling her gloves off and untying her bonnet. “With all this mystery, there would be no sleep for me tonight anyway. I’ll be in the parlor.”

The runaway was a young prostitute with an infant. She was probably only fourteen years old. Her arm was broken and her front teeth were knocked out. Sydnee carried the baby into the livery, thinking to herself that she must devise some sort of a sling for the girl to carry the baby to free up her good arm. Sydnee explained everything to the girl in a hurry. She was preoccupied with Isabel being back at the town house. After settling them in for the night, she returned home.

Sydnee walked into the parlor still wearing her disguise.

Isabel put her book down and raised her eyebrows at Sydnee as if she had been a naughty child. “I suggest you start at the very beginning.”

Sydnee took a deep breath and explained everything, from her epiphany at the convent to her most recent undertaking that evening. She explained how her own background on The Trace had influenced her decision to help women and children and how the spirits, Madame Picard, and Maxime had guided her. She talked at length about Mortimer’s role in Memphis as well.

Isabel listened with her mouth open. She had been completely ignorant of everything. “Does Tristan know or D’anton?”

Sydnee shook her head. “No, the less people involved the better.”

“I understand,” Isabel said. “But this is a deadly undertaking, Sydnee. I worry for your safety.”

“Indeed it is,” she agreed, reaching down to pet Atlantis. “I have--” Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, it hit her. She had forgotten to take Atlantis to the livery.

“Isabel!” she cried, jumping to her feet. “I forgot to leave the dog with the woman!”

Before Isabel could say another word, Sydnee dashed out of the room and down the front walk with Atlantis behind her. There was no time to saddle a horse, the only option was to run through the streets in a mad attempt to get to the girl.

Up one street and down the other she raced, her mouth so dry and her heart hammering so hard she thought she would drop in her tracks, but somehow she found the strength to continue running. At last she arrived at the livery and with shaking hands, she took out her key and unlocked the door. Dashing into the living quarters, she ran through the front room and into the bedroom, but the room was empty. Sydnee looked down. A window was broken, and there was blood on the sill. A chair was overturned and a plate of food was face down on the floor.

Sydnee’s heart dropped. She stood and stared at the glass scattered everywhere. Because she had been negligent, this woman’s safety had been compromised. If Atlantis had been here, the attacker may not have dared to enter the room and drag the woman and child away.

Shattered and overcome with remorse, Sydnee put her face in her hands and began to sob.

*                    *                    *

It took months for her to forgive herself. No matter how many successful escapes she orchestrated after that night, she would remember the mother and child who were yanked back to lives of misery, and she would chastise herself.

Sydnee’s sleep was disturbed as well, and for a while, she ate very little. But slowly, with the spirits whispering in her ear, she regained her strength. Gradually she returned to appreciating life and her own contributions to it.

It helped her to watch Isabel prepare for her journey to see Mortimer. She was so excited. Isabel initially refused to leave Delphine, so Sydnee enlisted Tristan’s help. Immediately he suggested they go as a family, and together they could introduce the baby to Mortimer. They would travel during the heat and disease of summer, and he could leave Isabel in Memphis while he conducted business in the north. If they took the nanny along, Isabel and Mortimer could find time to be alone.

Listening to Isabel make travel plans and chatter endlessly about Mortimer made Sydnee long for a great love too. She wondered why it had never happened to her, and she reproached herself for being so selective about men. Sometimes she thought it was because Tristan and D’anton were so good to her, showering her with affection and love constantly, but she knew that they were not responsible. She yearned for something more, an intimacy of the body
and
of the soul.

Shaking her head, she dismissed the idea of finding love. She was overwhelmed by all the blessings she received, and that was enough. Sydnee turned her attention back to the rescue of others, not realizing that she was the one in need of a lifeboat.

*                    *                    *

Summer came and so did yellow jack. Tristan and Isabel were gone to Memphis, and D’anton left for Saratoga where he would meet Tristan in August. Sydnee hated this time of year. The streets were empty and everything smelled of death. Fewer paddle wheelers made trips on the river which meant she had many more nights to have to hide escapees at the livery. Everything had gone smoothly since that fateful night when the mother and child were abducted though. There had been many successful escapes, and at last Sydnee was starting to feel confident again.

One night in July, she escorted a young Irish woman and her five-year-old twin boys to the livery. The girl looked so young that Sydnee thought they were siblings. The boys were thin with dark hair and rosy cheeks. They were shy, standing behind their mother’s skirts staring at Sydnee and Atlantis. They had just arrived from Cork, and the girl saw America as her opportunity to break free from her husband. She had recently escaped to the convent.

“There is work here in America,” Roisin O’Malley said in her thick brogue. “There was nothin’ in Ireland. Here I can take care of my wee ones by myself. We don’t have to put up with the beatins’ any longer.”

Sydnee marveled at the girl’s strength and determination at such a young age. She had no doubt that she would be a success.

The family stayed in the livery two nights waiting for a riverboat out of town, but the second night when Sydnee came around to check on them, she found the mother distraught. Her boys were sick and feverish with chills.

Mrs. O’Malley watched Sydnee anxiously as she examined her children. It was obvious they needed help quickly. Even though taking them to a hospital would compromise their safety, it was necessary, and Sydnee was ready to move them. Suddenly she thought of Dr. Locke. He had told her once that he worked with children. “Wait here. I have another idea. I am going for a doctor instead,” Sydnee said.

“Oh, for the love of God, please hurry,” Mrs. O’Malley pleaded.

Sydnee had Frederick take her to the hospital first. They told her that Dr. Locke had left for the day, but they gave her his address. Moments later Sydnee was running up the walk to his house. It was a charming home, painted a pale salmon color with balconies dripping with vines.

Sydnee’s hair, damp with perspiration, clung to her forehead. Please let him be at home, she prayed as she banged on the door and waited, wringing her hands. At last a servant answered and went to find Dr. Locke.

“What is all this banging?” he said, coming around the corner. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and he was wiping his hands on a towel. It appeared as if he had been cooking.

“Dr. Locke, I have been taking care of a mother and her two twins. The boys are extremely ill.”

He was immediately all business. “How old?” he asked, rolling his sleeves down and buttoning the cuffs.”

“Five.”

“What is the problem?”

“Fever and vomiting,” she replied.

“Malaise?”

“Yes.”

“Very well, I will get my bag,” he said, stepping into a room off the entry. He returned with his coat and black medical bag.

Frederick rushed them to the livery, and when Dr. Locke stepped out of the carriage he looked confused. The street was dark and abandoned, and he frowned as Sydnee unlocked the door. “I don’t understand. Why are we here?”

“I will explain later,” she said.

They walked quickly through the stable into the living quarters. In the bedroom they found one boy in bed and the other child on a trundle nearby. Atlantis was at their feet. The boys were in night shirts and covered with a light sheets. Their sunken eyes grew large when they saw Locke. They were afraid of him.

“Good evening, I am Dr. Locke,” he said to the mother.

Roisin O’Malley was wringing her hands, and she stood up, with tears in her eyes. “Thank you for coming, doctor.”

Looking at the twins, he said, “Greetings, boys.” There was no response. Turning to Atlantis he bellowed, “I understand this dog is feeling poorly.”

Out of the side of his mouth Fletcher murmured to Sydnee, “Dog’s name?”

“Atlantis,” she whispered.

“Atlantis sent me a note today and told me to come and take a look at him.”

“Her,” Sydnee corrected quietly.

“Her,” he echoed.

“May I, Atlantis?” Walking over, he squatted down by the dog.

The boys were watching carefully.

Atlantis looked at Sydnee, nervously. “Yes, Atlantis. You will be all right,” she said.

The dog sat very still while Dr. Locke petted her, lifted her paw, gently poked her in the ribs and put a wooden tube to her chest to listen to her heart. Fletcher even opened her mouth and looked inside.

“I beg your pardon?” he said putting his ear to the dog’s mouth. Weak smiles passed over the boy’s faces. “Yes, yes, very well. I will ask them.”

Dr. Locke stood up. “Atlantis said that it might be a good idea if I took a look at you two as well.”

The boys did not protest when he sat down on the bed. “Can you tell me your name?” he asked the child in the big bed. There was no reply. His mother said, “Killian, and the other is Kyle.”

“I will do the same things to you that I did to your friend, Atlantis. Is that all right?”

Killian nodded. Fletcher examined both the boys thoroughly and then stood up. “Well, I have good news for you all, including Atlantis. Everyone will feel much better if they drink lots and lots of water and eat rice and crackers.”

He rumpled Kyle’s hair and said, “Now, time to rest. That goes for you too, Atlantis.”

The dog looked at him with her ears perked.

Dr. Locke took the women into the front room and murmured, “Well, this is not yellow fever but it
is
dysentery. I imagine they contracted it on the ship. This disease can be deadly for children if they do not drink enough fluids. Boil all their water first, allow it to cool and give them as much as you can manage, also bland food. They are not in danger yet, but they will be if they do not drink. I cannot stress this enough.”

He ran his hand through his thick mop of hair and said, “Good God, it’s hot.”

As he started for the door, Mrs. O’Malley said, “Thank you, Dr. Locke. I have nothing to pay you but--”

“Say no more,” he said. Jerking his head toward Sydnee, he declared, “I will take payment from this woman. Send for me if anything changes for the worse.”

Sydnee walked out with Fletcher and locked the door. He watched her and frowned.

Frederick stepped up, “Where to, Mademoiselle?”

“To Mademoiselle’s house,” Locke replied, before Sydnee could speak. “She owes me a meal and an explanation.”

When they climbed in the carriage, Sydnee said with relief, “I am very grateful to you, Dr. Locke. Thank you so very much.” She reached into her drawstring bag to pay him, and he stopped her.