Читать книгу A Home for Her Heart - Janet Barton Lee - Страница 11

Chapter Three

It was after dinner before Elizabeth and John got a chance to look at the photographs Millicent had taken that morning. John had disappeared downstairs as soon as they arrived back at Heaton House, and Elizabeth and Kathleen decided to go window-shopping at the Ladies’ Mile, trying to get a better idea of what kind of trousseau she wanted.

Going shopping with Kathleen made Elizabeth realize how much she’d taken for granted over the years. A.T. Stewart’s Dry Goods, Macy’s and Hearn’s—all of those along the Mile were the kind of stores she’d always shopped in, but for Kathleen, it was new and an adventure.

Elizabeth had never had to check price tags to determine if she could afford something, and watching Kathleen do so now humbled her.

“I love this wrap, but oh, my, the price is quite dear.” Kathleen touched the silk fabric as if it were a piece of gold.

Elizabeth had to fight the urge to tell her she’d buy it for her—Kathleen had a lot of pride and wouldn’t appreciate it, especially now that she had a decent position. Instead, she thought she might give it to her as a wedding gift if she didn’t find something she liked at a more reasonable price.

“Why don’t we try Macy’s? They might have something a little less expensive.”

“Yes, let’s go there. I do remember seeing something similar to this in there a while back,” Kathleen said.

“I like going to Macy’s. They do try to keep their prices down a bit. I always enjoy finding something I like at a better price.” And she did. She’d found she could use more of her allowance to help others early on, if she shopped wisely and had money left over. Her father hadn’t liked her spending her money on the needy, saying he gave enough to charities.

Now she and Kathleen proceeded to search the sales at Macy’s, finding exactly what her friend wanted for less money in short order.

It’d begun to stress Elizabeth that her friends in the city didn’t know that she could afford to buy anything that caught her fancy—didn’t know she didn’t have to work for a living. Even though she wasn’t trying to hide the fact, she’d not made an effort to let them know she was wealthy in her own right from her grandmother’s inheritance—not to mention what she stood to inherit from her father one day. But she didn’t like living the life of the wealthy, other than being able to help at different charity functions.

When she’d moved to New York City, she hadn’t wanted to be hired because she was the daughter of Charles Edward Reynolds of Boston and she’d been honest with her editor, who agreed to let Elizabeth use her mother’s name for her articles. Mrs. Heaton and her son knew who she really was, but she’d asked them to keep it private. She’d wanted to be known as one of the boarders and didn’t want to be treated differently because she didn’t really have to work. She wanted to be one of them. Only now that she’d lived at Heaton House for several years, she wondered if she’d done the right thing.

She didn’t know how to tell them she didn’t need to work for a living. What would they think of her? Would they think she lied on purpose? Would they be disappointed in her? Think less of her? How would it affect her friendships with them? Much as she longed to quit feeling she was keeping secrets about herself, she was very afraid of the consequences of letting the people she cared about know she wasn’t exactly who they thought she was.

“Are you upset about anything, Elizabeth?” Kathleen asked. “You seem a little down in spirit.”

“Oh? I’m sorry. My mind was wandering.”

“No need to be sorry. Perhaps you’re tired. We did stay up very late last night and you were out and about early. Do you think Millicent got some good photos?”

“I hope so.”

“I suppose we should be going back or we’ll be late for dinner,” Kathleen said. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you for asking me to come. I think you’re right, however, and we should be getting back.”

When they saw the line for their trolley, they decided to ride the El instead. Hurrying up the steps of the nearest stop, they got in a shorter line, bought their ticket and boarded while people still waited in the trolley line. They found a seat and looked out the windows at the city.

“I love riding up over the streets,” Kathleen said.

“So do I. It’s a different view altogether.”

They pointed out different sights to each other as they rode along. “Look, you can see the building Matt is working on from here. I don’t know how those men work so high up in the air.”

“Neither do I,” Elizabeth said. “But I love the way the skyline is changing with the taller buildings.”

They were at their stop in no time and walked the rest of the way to Heaton House. The aroma drifting through to the foyer told them Mrs. Heaton had planned a great meal, but it was quiet downstairs as no one had come down to the parlor yet. Happy they weren’t too late, Elizabeth and Kathleen rushed upstairs to their rooms to change clothes.

They never dressed for dinner during the week—Mrs. Heaton said it was just too much trouble for working people and it made it much easier on the boarders. But on the weekends and special occasions they did dress up and everyone seemed to enjoy it.

Elizabeth chose one of her favorite dinner gowns, a sleeveless green silk with a sweetheart neckline. It felt summery and cool and she felt pretty in it. She pinched her cheeks in the mirror and pinned up an errant strand of blond hair before leaving her room. She met up with Millicent in the hall.

“Elizabeth! I’m glad you’re back. I can’t wait to show you and John the photographs. I think they turned out very well.”

“I can’t wait to see them. Perhaps after dinner—”

“What are you doing after dinner?” Kathleen asked, coming up behind them and following them down the staircase.

“Millicent has the photos she took this morning and she’s ready to show them to me and John.”

“Oh, I’d love to see them, Millicent!”

“And you should,” Elizabeth said. “This was your idea after all.”

They entered the parlor, but John wasn’t there. She felt a small stab of disappointment that he wasn’t. Had he been called out on an assignment? And why did it matter? She had no idea why she should care.

However, just as dinner was announced and the boarders headed toward the dining room, footsteps were heard from the staircase leading down to the ground floor and he hurried to join them all in the hall.

“Sorry I’m late. I’ve been working on the article about the building we saw today.”

“I thought you wanted to do more research before starting it,” Elizabeth commented. Of course he would get a head start.

John shrugged. “I do, but I’ve already talked to my editor about it and he’s eager to see the first one. Said there was a possibility of a series. He asked if I had pictures. Did you get them developed, Millicent?”

All thoughts that somehow she’d misjudged John earlier in the day went flying out the window. As always, it was all about him and his career. It was as if she hadn’t even been along that morning.

“I did,” Millicent said as she took her seat at the table. “Elizabeth suggested we look at them after dinner.”

“Wonderful.” John pulled out Elizabeth’s seat as usual, but it wasn’t until he’d sat down beside her that he acknowledged her at all. “Have you spoken with your editor yet, Elizabeth?”

“No, I haven’t. I’ll talk to him first thing on Monday, but I’m certain he’ll want to do a series of articles, too.” At least she hoped so. Something about John’s attitude tonight made her feel competitive.

“I’m sure he will. But perhaps from a different perspective than what I’ll be doing for the Tribune.”

Elizabeth clamped her mouth shut before she made a scathing comment about his hard-hitting article on what Mrs. Vanderbilt had worn at the last social function he covered. Instead she tried to enjoy the meal and listen to the conversations going on around her.

“How is Rebecca doing?” Ben asked Mrs. Heaton.

Rebecca was Mrs. Heaton’s daughter whom she’d been recently reunited with, having been missing for several years. Rebecca had a young daughter and was living with her brother, Michael, and his wife until after Kathleen and Luke were married.

“She’s doing fine. She and Jenny, along with Michael and Violet, will be here for Sunday dinner as usual tomorrow.”

Elizabeth smiled. Everyone loved having Rebecca’s young daughter around. She livened things up around the dinner table.

“Did you and Elizabeth get any shopping done?” Luke asked Kathleen.

“I did purchase something, but we mostly window-shopped for ideas and fabrics. I have a better idea of what I want now, and where to look for things.”

“And it’s all still a secret I assume?”

“Most of it.”

Luke sighed and shook his head. “Are you going to be locked away with more planning tonight?”

Kathleen smiled at him. “Not tonight.”

“Good.”

Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile as she witnessed the look Luke gave her friend. It was obvious the two were deeply in love and she was very happy for them. Sometimes even a little envious, even though she had no intention of giving her heart to any man. After finding her fiancée didn’t love her but only the money he’d have access to, how could she ever trust that any other man truly cared about her and not her inheritance? How could she trust that her heart wouldn’t be broken again? She didn’t believe it was possible to ever be able to trust that way again.

John leaned near and broke into her thoughts. “You’re awfully quiet tonight. In fact, you haven’t seemed yourself since our run-in the other day.”

His concern surprised her and frustrated her all at the same time. The look in his eyes reminded her of what it’d felt like to be held by him that day she’d barreled into him and how it had taken her breath away. Something she’d been trying not to think about ever since. “I’m fine.”

“You’re sure? You seem a little—”

“I’m fine, John,” she repeated. At least she would be if he didn’t keep asking if she was. What was it about this man that had her catching her breath one minute and ready to bop him over the head the next?

“If you say so.” He turned his attention to Millicent across the table from them. “I’m looking forward to seeing the photos you shot.”

“Thank you. I should have made a set for each of you, but I only developed one. I suppose you two will have to decide who gets what. I don’t imagine your editors will want to publish the same ones anyway.”

Elizabeth hadn’t thought about it until now, but Millicent was right. “I’m sure you took enough that it won’t be a problem.”

“I hope so.”

As some of the others began scooting their chairs out from the table, John said, “It appears dinner is over. Let’s go see what you have.”

“I’ll run upstairs and get them,” Millicent said.

“We’ll be in the little parlor,” Elizabeth said. “Come on back when you come down.” She scooted her own chair out and stood before John had a chance to help her. If he thought he was going to get the best pictures, he was wrong. She might write fluff, but she knew what was needed to appeal to the women who read the Delineator and she was going to make sure she got it.

* * *

John and Elizabeth followed Kathleen and Luke to the back parlor and took seats around the small table. John pulled up an extra one for Millicent. They’d barely settled in their seats before she joined them.

She took a seat John pulled up for her and spread the photographs out on the table.

“Oh, Millicent, these are very good,” John said.

They were very good. She’d caught shots that Elizabeth couldn’t remember her taking. But John’s high praise of her work when all he’d allow Elizabeth of her articles was that they were nice ruffled her feathers. And that it did annoyed her most of all. Not about to let on how she felt, she added her praise to the others. “I can’t see any way our editors aren’t going to want to feature some of these photos.”

John already had a grasp on several and Elizabeth decided right then and there that he wasn’t going to take just any he wanted. She quickly picked several up and began to go through them.

“Hey, I haven’t seen those yet,” John said.

“And I didn’t get a chance to look at the ones you’re holding. I’ll choose from these and you choose from those and we’ll split up the rest.”

“Oh, my, I hope I didn’t whip up trouble when I asked for you both to do articles. I—”

“You haven’t provoked anything, Kathleen,” Luke said.

“I hope I haven’t, either,” Millicent added.

Elizabeth sighed. “You haven’t stirred up anything, ladies.”

“Elizabeth is right. I shouldn’t have grabbed so many before she had a chance to look at them. I’m sorry.”

Oh, now he’d made her look really bad-tempered. Well, maybe not. She seemed to have done that on her own and there was nothing to do now but apologize. “I’m sorry if I sounded miffed. Want to start over, John?”

He laid the photos on the table. “That’s a good idea. But I will ask for this one, unless you have a real need for it.”

The photo he held up was one Millicent had taken as they were walking up the stairs. It showed a broken stair rail and somehow included a shot of the broken window on the next floor and was a good example of the deplorable condition of the whole building.

“As long as I get the next pick.”

“Thank you.” John motioned to the photos. “You choose next.”

She moved the photos around until she saw the one she especially wanted, the one she’d asked Millicent to take. She caught her breath as she looked at it. Not only had Millicent caught the rat in the pile of trash, there were eyes peeking out from the rubble. A whole family of rats probably lived there. She shuddered. “You are very talented, Millicent. I’ll take this one.”

John raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Perhaps I should have given you first choice.”

Elizabeth smiled and shook her head. “I’d have chosen the same one. Your turn now.”

From then on they played nice and each had a good selection of photographs to show their editors.

“I think you’ll be hanging a sign out on your own business before too long, Millicent,” Elizabeth said. “These are all very good and they show exactly what I hoped they would. Thank you.”

“Thank you and John for allowing me to shoot these. I’m glad to be able to help garner attention to these places. Surely something will be done.”

“That’s what we’re hoping for.”

“Are we done for now?” John asked.

Elizabeth nodded. “I suppose so. I’ll let you know which ones my editor wants to use, Millicent. I have no doubt that he’ll want several.”

“Thank you, Elizabeth. I guess I’ll go join the others in the parlor. Sounds like they’re having a sing-along.”

The sound of piano music drifted down the hall. “It does sound like that,” Luke said. “Want to join them, Kathleen?”

“I’d love to.” She turned back to Elizabeth. “You coming?”

“Not tonight. I think I’ll go up and take some notes on what I saw today and what Millicent’s photographs have brought to mind. I’ll see you all in the morning.”

“What about you, John?” Luke asked.

“No, I think I’ll go down and put the finishing touches on my article. Thank you for suggesting this, Kathleen. I think this may get me promoted one of these days.”

And that’s what it was all about for him. Making a name for himself, getting it splashed on the front page of the Tribune. Elizabeth headed out the door, photos in hand. If she wasn’t so frustrated with him, she might feel sorry for him.

* * *

John felt unsettled as he went back to his room. He wasn’t in the mood to sing around a piano tonight. He’d upset Elizabeth and felt bad about it. She had a right to be angry with him for grabbing the photos before she’d had a chance to look at them. But even though he’d apologized and she’d seemed to accept it, he could tell she still wasn’t happy when she went upstairs.

And that wasn’t like Elizabeth at all. She was usually the most even-tempered of all the boarders, so much so that he sometimes liked to “get a rise” out of her as Ben had put it the other day. Her hazel eyes would flash almost gold and her face would flush a lovely shade of pink that went clear to her light blond hairline.

But the last few days had been different—she’d seemed out of sorts ever since their collision the other day. He knew she’d been irritated about the last-minute summons to her aunt’s; maybe there were family problems he knew nothing about. There was more he didn’t know about Elizabeth than what he did, after all.

And it did him no good to surmise what might be wrong. As the fiasco with Melody had shown him, his instincts where women were concerned seemed to always be wrong and weren’t to be trusted.

Instead of working on his article, he took a seat in the easy chair Mrs. Heaton had added to each of the men’s rooms and leaned back his head. Melody. He didn’t think of her often anymore, only as a memory to remind him that he never wanted to put his heart on the line again.

He’d thought he had it made down in Natchez, Mississippi. He was lead reporter of the Natchez Daily, and the owner’s daughter had begun to flirt with him, asking him to go on a picnic with her and even inviting him to dinner on occasion. John had begun to believe he had a real chance with her and had actually dreamed of the family they might have one day, if he ever got up enough nerve to ask her to marry him. But then his dreams crashed around him.

A young new reporter was hired at the paper and began flirting with Melody. When John questioned her about it, she told John he was imagining things and not to worry, he was the one she cared about. But when John caught the two kissing in a darkened hallway, a fight ensued. Evidently the kiss wasn’t all one-sided because Melody took up for the other man and blamed John for the fight.

Her father believed her, of course, and fired John then and there. Realizing that a terribly spoiled Melody had only led him on—whether out of boredom or cruelty, he didn’t know—but feeling he’d been made a fool, he caught a train to take him as far away as he could get the very next morning.

From then on he decided never to fall prey to a woman’s wiles again—and particularly wealthy young women who gave no thought to others’ feelings. He might get lonely from time to time, but his heart was whole now and he intended to keep it that way, even if there were times when he longed for more.

He had a good life and couldn’t complain. He enjoyed the family atmosphere living at Heaton House gave him and things at the paper were looking up. With his editor interested in a series of stories, he felt certain he was on the verge of getting the byline that would name him one of the best reporters in the city. And right now, that was all that really mattered.