A Lady of Hidden Intent (17 page)

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Authors: Tracie Peterson

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #General, #Religious

BOOK: A Lady of Hidden Intent
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“I am glad that at least my children can appreciate my efforts,” she said with a sigh. “Your father never knows the lengths I go to in order to keep his name at the top of every social agenda in town.”

Carter wasn’t entirely sure that was something his father would appreciate or that it truly kept them in Philadelphia’s social graces, but he said nothing on the matter. “If you prepare a list for me, I will be happy to see to it while I’m in New York.”

“I shall go right to it,” she declared, getting to her feet. “I’m sure there are other things. I will check with Cook as well. When do you leave?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

“Mercy me. I shall have to work hard to figure it all out in that time.” She hurried from the room, calling for Mrs. Colfax, the housekeeper and his mother’s lifelong companion. The two had been together since Mrs. Colfax’s second birthday, when her mother came to work for Lillian Danby’s parents. Carter knew his mother trusted the woman implicitly.

“Must you really be gone two weeks?” Winifred asked.

“I don’t know for sure. I plan to return home as soon as

possible. Why?”

Winifred shrugged. “I’ll miss you. That’s all.”

He cocked his head to one side as he studied her. “You’ll miss me? Or do you really mean that you’ll miss having me throw you and Lee together?”

Her mouth dropped open in surprise. “Of course I shall miss you both.”

“Well, you shan’t get too lonely. I’ve made some arrangements for you to have Miss Shay’s company when you desire.”

“But I thought she was much too busy. Mrs. Clarkson needs her to sew the Christmas gowns.”

Carter grinned. “Mrs. Clarkson needs her designing talents more than her sewing. A hundred other women can put needle and thread to material. I have given Mrs. Clarkson a sum to hire additional help in Miss Shay’s absence.”

“You bought me a friend! Oh, Carter, please say it isn’t true.

I am not so desperate as all of that.”

He saw the worry in her expression and shook his head. “My motives were purely selfish. When I return, I shall desire for the four of us to spend a good deal of time together. To put it quite honestly, I would like you to spend time with Miss Shay and learn what you can of her. I find myself completely intrigued—in fact, smitten—by the woman.”

Winifred smiled and came to where he stood. “I see how it is with you now. This was no selfless act of love but rather the part of a desperately enamored would-be suitor.”

Carter laughed. “Do not mention this to Miss Shay. I wouldn’t want her to think so lowly of me as you do.”

Winifred took his hand and squeezed it. “I could never think anything but good of you, Carter. You have given me hope for my own future. I will happily help you to secure yours.”

He sobered. “It’s funny, but thinking of Catherine as a part of my future gives me quite a feeling of contentment. We scarcely know each other, yet I feel as if we’ve been somehow purposed for each other. Does that sound completely daft?”

Winifred shook her head. “Not at all. It sounds very romantic. I believe Catherine would make a wonderful wife for you.

While it’s true that we know very little of her past, her kindness and gentle spirit cannot be hidden. She has borne great sorrow, of this I’m certain, yet she endeavors to continue her life in a positive way.”

“And it does not put you off that she is a seamstress?” he asked with a smile.

“Not at all, for I am sure to have her first efforts before any of the women in Philadelphia should she marry my brother.”

Laughing, Carter put his arm around her. “Then I shall endeavor to do what I can. I would not have it said that I was less than considerate of my sister’s needs.”

Catherine was waiting, in what had become known as the planning room, for Winifred Danby to dress and return. The gown was coming along nicely, and although Catherine had done very little of the actual sewing, she had been happy with the work done by Dolley and Beatrix.

“I am so pleased with the gown,” Winifred declared as she entered the room. “I feel just like a princess in it.”

“And it accentuates your assets so nicely,” Catherine replied in a teasing tone.

“Yes. Mother likes it very much, but not as much as her own gown. She’s still in there fawning over her appearance.” Winifred motioned toward the fitting room.

“It gives us a few moments to talk about the final details,”

Catherine said. “Have you decided about having real flowers sewn into the bodice and sleeves?”

“I think that would be wonderful. It would be like wearing a garden,” Winifred said rather wistfully.

Catherine nodded. It was a rather poetic way to express it, but quite accurate. “We shall need to add those at the very last moment. Probably the morning of the ball.” She jotted a note to herself regarding the operation.

Just then Mrs. Danby and Mrs. Clarkson appeared. Mrs.

Danby rambled on and on about the quality of the work and the appearance of her gown.

“And you are certain no other gown will be made of this material?”

Mrs. Clarkson looked to Catherine, then back to her customer.

“There are no other known bolts of this material in Philadelphia.

Now, if someone journeyed, say, to New York City, well, I could not vouch for whether the fabric could be purchased there.”

“New York City?” Mrs. Danby asked, then nodded. “I feel confident, then. I know of no one, save my son, who has traveled there of late.”

“I suppose he has gone on business,” Mrs. Clarkson said as a means of small talk.

“Carter left for New York this morning. He had business there and the dear man is going to procure a great many things for my party. I should have given him a piece of my material so that he could search out any other bolts of cloth.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Mrs. Danby. The cloth is quite expensive, as you know. There would be few who could afford it, and even if they did, the design would definitely be different.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I must see to my other customers.”

“Oh, Mrs. Clarkson, there is just one more thing,” Winifred said boldly. Catherine found it a pleasant change to see the young woman be more outspoken. “I wondered if Miss Shay might accompany me tomorrow as I shop for shoes and jewelry to wear with my gown. My mother is quite busy with plans for the party, and I would cherish the assistance.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” Catherine replied before Mrs. Clarkson could speak.

“Nonsense,” the older woman interjected. “You can have the afternoon to help Miss Danby. What time should she expect you?”

Catherine felt stunned as the entire matter was taken out of her hands. Winifred suggested coming in the carriage around one-thirty, and Mrs. Clarkson agreed. It wasn’t until mother and daughter had exited the establishment that Catherine sought out Mrs. Clarkson for an answer.

“I don’t understand,” she said, finding the older woman in the finishing room. She was showing Martha some pieces of lace they needed for a particular gown. “We have a great deal of work to complete before Christmas. How is it that you would have me go off with Miss Danby?”

Mrs. Clarkson looked up rather surprised. “It’s really quite simple. I’ve been consulted and paid quite well to allow you to accompany Miss Danby whenever possible. The Danbys feel she is quite shy and would benefit greatly from your company. I thought surely they had spoken to you about it first.”

“No one mentioned anything to me,” Catherine said, feeling even more confused.

Martha went about her business as Mrs. Clarkson came to Catherine. “You needn’t look so upset. This will be a wonderful time for you. Mr. Danby said that—”

“Mr. Danby? You mean Carter Danby?” Catherine asked, knowing that Mrs. Danby’s husband had never graced their doorstep.

“Yes. Miss Danby’s brother. He approached me on their last visit while you were busy with his sister. He told me of her great shyness and how much she enjoyed your company. He felt you had a calming effect, as well as a genuineness that she felt lacking in her other friends. He said that she was hopefully soon to be engaged and if we would cooperate in allowing you to accompany her on various outings, not only would he pay us to hire additional help to fill in for you, but he was certain her trousseau would be ordered from our house.”

“Of all the . . .” Catherine let her words trail off to silence. Carter was doing this to ensure she would have to go with them whenever Winifred made a request. But of course, it would really be Carter’s request. He was doing this to learn who she was and why she was so secretive.

“I was certain you wouldn’t mind.” Mrs. Clarkson looked upset. “Have I done wrong by you? I thought you would enjoy the company—the taste of a better life.”

Catherine steadied her nerves and nodded. “It’s fine. I was just shocked, that’s all.”

“Oh good. Since you had your dress designs mostly completed, I didn’t think it would be a problem. Should there be additional gowns you need to create, we will simply make sure you are available. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must see Selma about supper.”

Catherine watched the older woman hurry away. She wanted to throw something against the wall in protest but refrained. She had never known a man such as Carter Danby. His determination to manipulate her life was beyond reason, and when he returned from his trip, she would make certain he knew exactly what she thought of the matter.

CHAPTER 12

C
arter and Leander found the Samuelson boardinghouse after only a few days of searching. Apparently the establishment was highly regarded for being clean and free of bed bugs. The meals were also praised as being plentiful and delicious. Carter hoped only that the owners would be willing to talk about Catherine.

Deep in thought, Carter was surprised when Lee leaned forward to punch him playfully on the thigh. “What?” he asked, knowing he’d surely missed some comment or question.

“I said you seem a million miles away, but I suppose it’s not quite that far, eh?” Lee had a devilish twinkle in his eyes as he added, “Just the distance from this town to Philadelphia.”

“I suppose I have allowed this to completely preoccupy my thoughts.” Carter stared out the window.

The carriage stopped, and the driver quickly appeared to open the door. “This is the place. Samuelson’s Boardinghouse.”

Carter paid the man and asked him to wait. “We shouldn’t be long.” He and Lee then quickly made their way to the house and knocked loudly. Carter felt a sense of excitement that he couldn’t explain. It was almost as if he were a boy awaiting Christmas morning.

“Are you Mrs. Samuelson?” Carter asked when an old woman answered the door to the two-story house.

“I am. If you’re looking for a room, we have one left and you’ll have to share.”

Carter noted she was a plump woman with a rather bulbous nose, but her demeanor seemed quite gentle and kind. He smiled as she opened the door a little wider.

“We are not searching for a room,” Carter replied, “but rather had hoped to converse with you about something of great importance.”

She frowned. “If you’re selling something, I’m not buying.”

“Not at all,” Carter assured. “My name is Carter Danby, and this is my friend Leander Arlington. We’re from Philadelphia and have some interest in a young woman you once housed here with her parents.”

He could see the woman was intrigued and hurried to continue. “I promise we won’t take up too much time.”

“Very well. Come in.” She stepped back from the door and motioned. “This is the sitting room.”

Carter and Leander hurried inside in case she changed her mind. The small sitting room was clean but sparsely furnished.

A settee with well-worn upholstery stood in front of a small fireplace. The fire looked as though it was dying out.

“Please be seated.” Mrs. Samuelson pointed.

Carter took a straight-backed chair, while Leander sat on a small wooden bench by the fire.

Mrs. Samuelson positioned herself in a rocker. “Now, who is this young woman you speak of?”

“It would have been back about five years ago,” Leander began. “The older couple were called Shay. Dugan and Selma Shay. They were here with their daughter, Catherine. They’re from England.”

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