Unseemly Ambition (16 page)

“
Is Barton Isley really
that ambitious?” Concordia asked.

“
I cannot say, but he has
some international interests that would benefit from having friends
in the government. From what I understand—keep in mind that this is
from the rumor mill,” David cautioned, “most of the Isley wealth is
tied up in mining interests abroad. I’ve heard something about
mines in the southern part of Africa. No doubt he’ll have a
splendid return on his investment eventually, especially if he can
pull off a tariff exemption.”

Concordia remembered Miss Hamilton
mentioning copper mines. “How could Sanders help Isley with that?”
she asked.

“
Connecticut’s general
assembly is responsible for appointments to the United States
Congress. There’s talk of changing that system
eventually—state-wide elections being the fairest method—but that’s
how it works at the moment.”

Concordia thought about
that as plates came and went. She would have made room for some of
the
creme brulee
,
if she had noticed it in front of her before it was whisked
away.

She observed the others as David
chatted with an elderly lady on his other side. Across the room,
Sanders was conversing heatedly with another gentleman. “…Cooke is
playing his cards too close to the vest...re-election to another
term? Unheard of. Violates gubernatorial tradition. Time for him to
cede the field to another.”

The other man set aside his napkin. “I
disagree. Surely it is better the devil you know—”

“
Gentlemen!” Barton Isley
interrupted good-naturedly, “Shall we leave such subjects to the
after-dinner conversation in the library? I’m sure the ladies don’t
appreciate such a boring topic.”

Concordia couldn’t agree
more.

“
Speak for yourself,
Barton,” Lily Isley shot back.

Isley laughed indulgently. “Yes,
dear.”

The murmur of conversations
resumed.

Concordia turned back to David. “I was
wondering, did you know Florence Willoughby at all?”

He knitted his brow in concentration.
“I’ve heard of the Willoughby family, of course. They dominate the
Register in New York, Boston, and Providence. I’ve never met
Florence. Why do you ask?”

Concordia hesitated. “I met her, but
she was killed a few weeks ago.”

David leaned in to speak more quietly.
“You’re not getting involved in another murder investigation, are
you? I understood it was personal for you when Sophia was accused
of murdering her father—who could stand idly by and do nothing when
one’s best friend is in trouble? But surely, Florence Willoughby’s
death can’t possibly concern you.”

“
No, no, it’s not like
that,” Concordia protested in a low voice. It was Eli’s
disappearance that was getting her involved this time, but she
couldn’t explain that right now. There were too many people close
by to overhear.

“
Just trust me, David,”
Concordia said. “Do you see any Willoughbys here?”

He sighed in resignation and surveyed
the room. The final plates were being removed from the tables as
guests got up from their chairs.

“
I see none of the
Willoughbys here tonight,” David said, “but those two over there—”
he discreetly motioned to the left, where two men had stood to help
their female companions out of their chairs “—are connected to the
family. That fellow is old man Willoughby’s banker, and the other
is the family’s minister.”

Miss Hamilton had said the Willoughbys
would be attending, but perhaps they had declined at the last
minute because of Florence’s death. That would be the decorous
thing to do. Concordia casually turned her head to look at the men
associated with the family. She’d never seen them before. Could one
or both of them have attended the meeting in the library? She would
need to hear their voices at close range to be able to
tell.

But that would have to wait
until they were all together again. Now was time for the ladies to
enjoy after-dinner coffee in the parlor—the
Marlowe Room
, Concordia amended—and
the men to talk in the library over brandy and cigars.

The doorbell rang and a maid hurried
to answer it. Concordia lingered in the hallway, curious about the
latecomer. To her immense surprise, in the open doorway stood her
mother, on the arm of Robert Flynn. The maid took the gentleman’s
hat.

“
Concordia!” Mrs. Wells
said delightedly. She embraced her. “How lovely to see you, dear.
Have you seen Sophia since she’s returned from her honeymoon trip?
Yes? Oh, do tell me all about it.”

Robert Flynn bowed. “‘Tis a pleasure,
Miss Wells.” He touched Mrs. Wells’ elbow. “I’ll see myself to the
library to join the gentlemen.”

Concordia watched him walk away before
turning back to her mother.

“
I’m so surprised that
you’re here!” Concordia exclaimed. “What–”

Concordia broke off as Lily Isley
rushed up to greet her mother. “Letitia, dear, so happy you could
come! I know you are only just returning from the Cartwright
benefit; how unfortunate that it coincided with my dinner
party.”

Mrs. Wells made a face.
“I
am
sorry I
couldn’t get away sooner, Lily, but you understand I was already
committed to it. We came over as soon as we could decently get
away. I do hope I’m not inconveniencing you?”

“
No, no, not at all,” Lily
assured her. “Let me get you some coffee and introduce you. We have
the most fascinating ladies in our group tonight.” She turned
mischievously to Concordia. “And of course, you know your own
charming daughter. It is so lovely to work with her on the seniors’
play this year,” she purred.

Mrs. Wells gave Concordia a look, and
Concordia stifled a laugh into a hiccup. Obviously, her mother was
familiar with Lily Isley’s effusive ways and found them amusing.
Even though Concordia and her mother approached the world
differently—her mother as a well-bred society widow and Concordia
as an unconventional lady professor—they’d come to realize they
shared the same sense of humor and perceptions about people. She
looked forward to regaling her mother with stories of Lily Isley
and the senior play preparations. Later, of course.

Concordia followed them into the
parlor.

“
Ah, Lady Dunwick, may I
present Mrs. Wells?” Lily Isley said. “She unfortunately could not
join us for dinner, but has graciously taken the time from her
charity benefit to pay us a visit over coffee.”

“
Charmed, Mrs. Wells.” Lady
Dunwick extended an age-mottled, bony hand that clinked with
multiple bracelets. Though by all appearance a petite, thin-boned
old lady, she examined everything beneath hooded eyelids, missing
little.

“
And this is her daughter,
Miss Concordia Wells,” Mrs. Isley added.

Lady Dunwick peered at Concordia with
close interest. “Oh, I have heard of you, my dear.”

Concordia was startled.
“Me?”

“
Oh my, yes,” continued
Lady Dunwick. “My niece is Charlotte Crandall, who graduated from
your college. Nearly two years ago, I believe.”

“
Charlotte! Why, of course
I remember her,” Concordia said, smiling. “She was Head Senior and
did amazingly well. Quite a composed and studious young lady.”
Except for that one incident in the garden with a young man, but
the less said about that the better. “How is she?”

“
Actually, rather at loose
ends at the moment,” Lady Dunwick answered. “Her school has been
shut down and its staff dismissed after a scandal last month. It
seems the headmaster eloped with one of the students. The society
matrons are all in a dither over
that
. Not Charlotte’s fault, of
course, nor any of the other instructors. She has a glowing
reference but nowhere to go, since it’s mid-term at all the
schools.”

Mrs. Wells sat down and smoothed her
skirt. “What a shame.”

Concordia joined her mother on the
settee. “Let me talk with our lady principal,” she said to Lady
Dunwick. “We’re short-handed at the moment. Perhaps we can use
her.”

Lady Dunwick clapped her hands
together, making the bracelets clink once more. “Wonderful!
Charlotte has just come to town for a visit. I know she would be
delighted to see you and hear all the news.”

“
Don’t say anything to her
yet,” Concordia urged. “I wouldn’t want to raise her hopes until
I’m sure. But I would love to see her again.”

“
Oh, my dear, come visit
us, any time you wish.” Lady Dunwick took out one of her cards, and
scribbled on the back. “We even have one of those new-fangled
telephone contraptions, so I’m writing the number on here.
However,” she added darkly, “I don’t think much of them—one can
barely hear the party at the other end. Sounds like there’s
cannon-fire going off in the background.” She shuddered. “So much
for modern improvements.”

Concordia smiled. She remembered
calling Capshaw at the police station once, and it was just like
that.

The parlor door opened, and the
gentlemen came in. Several rejoined their companions while others
headed for the card tables, including Sanders and Sir
Anthony.

Maynard, Isley, Flynn and David
Bradley were clustered together in earnest debate. Maynard glanced
across the room, noticing Concordia for the first time that
evening. As she had predicted, the dean scowled in her direction.
She resisted the urge to scowl right back.

Lily walked over and tucked her arm in
her husband’s. “Barton, darling, come join us.” She beckoned to the
other men in the group. “We’ll have a cozy chat over
coffee.”

Robert Flynn and a smiling David
Bradley complied readily. Maynard gave Concordia another black look
and reluctantly pulled over a chair.

Concordia looked away. Why did the
dean hate her so?

“
Barton, this is Letitia
Wells, the lady I met at the Atheneum last month. She’s a friend of
Mr. Flynn.”

My pleasure, Mrs. Wells,” Isley said,
bending over her gloved hand.

A servant came over with the tray of
coffee and sweets. “Delightful, thank you,” Lily said. “Shall I
pour?”

“
Please,” Concordia said.
While she was more of a tea-drinker, the coffee smelled heavenly,
and perhaps might serve to sharpen her wits, which felt dulled by
the late hour. It was well past her ten o’clock bedtime.

“
How is the play coming
along?” Barton asked, looking at his wife and Concordia.

Lily smiled and set down her delicate
cup to free her hands. Concordia noticed she was fond of gesturing
as she spoke. “Wonderfully, dear. Don’t you think so, Concordia?
For someone with little experience on the stage, this young lady
professor has quite a knack for drawing out the best in the girls.
And we have discovered a gem of a senior for our Iago. We only have
to get her a teensy bit out of her shell, and she will be
perfect.”

Both Maynard and Flynn reached for
their cups in a half-hearted attempt to conceal their disinterest
in a mere student play.

“
You are doing
Othello
?” Isley asked,
eyebrows raised. “Isn’t that a bit...dark? I would think a lighter
comedy of the bard’s would suit better.”

Concordia smiled. “The
seniors get to choose. Over the past two years, they seem drawn to
the ‘darker’ plays. Last year was
Hamlet;
the year before that
was
Macbeth.
This
one is no worse than those, really.”

“
Egad,” Flynn chimed in,
“‘tis rather indelicate to play-act at a woman
being...strangled...onstage.” His face flushed in his
agitation.

Irishmen went red quite easily,
Concordia noticed. Mr. Flynn seemed rather stuffy, even for
Mother.

Concordia and Lily
exchanged a glance, and Lily spoke with some spirit. “Smothered,
actually,” Lily said blithely. “
I
will be playing Desdemona, Mr. Flynn. I have
dramatized more dire roles than this, I can assure you.”

Now Barton Isley turned
red. “You are
in
the play? You didn’t tell me that. I was under the impression
you were solely helping to direct.”

“
It was...recent,” Lily
lied glibly.

“
And we’re so fortunate to
have such talent at our disposal,” Concordia interjected quickly.
Her mother’s mouth was twitching, either in amusement or
disapproval; she couldn’t tell which.

But it was Lady Dunwick who smoothed
the waters. “Wonderful! I look forward to your performance. I’m
sure the addition of such a celebrity will sell a great many
tickets, too, Barton.” She winked.

At last, Lady Dunwick had found an
appeal close to Bursar Isley’s heart. “Yes, of course,” he said
gruffly.

Concordia hid a smile behind her
coffee cup.

In a pointed change of subject, Lady
Dunwick turned toward David, seated beside Concordia. “Mr. Bradley,
I’ve heard wonderful things about you as well. You teach Chemistry
at both Hartford Women’s College and Trinity, do you
not?”