Murder on Washington Square (21 page)

 

 

 

“
R
ICHARD, MY BOY, HOW ARE YOU?” HER FATHER ASKED, shaking his hand.

Sarah didn’t like the sound of that “my boy,” especially when she saw that Dennis was just as surprised by the familiarity as she. Felix Decker was never effusive.

“We were afraid you might not make it because of the storm,” her father continued.

“I couldn’t allow you to think I was afraid of a little rain, could I?” Dennis replied. He did look amazingly dry, considering how the wind was howling outside. Sarah couldn’t help wondering how his driver had fared and if he’d agree on the assessment that they were having “a little rain.”

“How are your parents?” her father asked, escorting him into the room.

“Very well, thank you,” Mr. Dennis replied, recovering quickly. “They asked to be remembered to you both.”

While Dennis greeted her mother, Sarah studied him, taking in the details of his appearance with a growing sense of dread. When her father had referred to him as “young” Dennis, she had pictured someone barely old enough to shave. Richard Dennis, however, was at least thirty. While he couldn’t be called conventionally handsome, he was certainly appealing in a well-kept, well-bred sort of way. He carried his rather tallish figure easily beneath his tailor-made suit, and he effortlessly exchanged pleasantries with Elizabeth Decker. Sarah knew beyond the slightest doubt that Richard Dennis would prove to be what her mother considered a very eligible bachelor, which explained her parents’ willingness to help her in this matter. They had eagerly arranged this meeting in hopes of making a suitable match for Sarah.

“And this is my daughter, Mrs. Sarah Brandt,” her father was saying, turning Dennis’s attention to her.

“I’m delighted to meet you, Mrs. Brandt,” he said with a genuine, if slightly bemused, smile, as he took her offered hand in his. “You misled me, sir,” he said, turning back to her father when he’d released Sarah’s hand. “I thought this would be a dry business discussion, and here you have provided the company of two very lovely ladies instead.”

“Oh, we will be discussing business,” Mr. Decker assured him, “but it’s Sarah who wished to consult with you, not I.”

“And my father was gracious enough to arrange for us to meet,” Sarah supplied, trying to keep any hint of annoyance out of her voice. It wasn’t Mr. Dennis’s fault that her parents wanted to find her a socially acceptable husband. “I hope you will forgive him for misleading you and indulging me.”

Now Dennis looked intrigued. “I’m rarely called upon to discuss business with charming females, Mrs. Brandt. For that alone, I would forgive him.”

Sarah would have quickly made her case for Nelson Ellsworth, but her parents weren’t accustomed to doing things hastily. Getting right down to the issue would be considered bad taste and worse manners. They’d set out to entertain Mr. Dennis, and they would. Her father offered him a drink to ward off the harrowing effects of the storm, and her mother made small talk while Sarah tried to be pleasant. Pouting wouldn’t endear her to Richard Dennis, and she needed his help desperately.

Fortunately, Sarah had spent her youth learning just how to conduct herself in social situations, and she called upon all of those skills now. After a few awkward moments, she found herself slipping naturally into the conversation. She hadn’t seen most of the people about whom they spoke for many years, but she did remember most of them.

“Surely, we must have encountered one another at dancing classes at some time or another, Mrs. Brandt,” Dennis said after a few minutes.

“Sarah is several years younger than you, Richard,” her mother explained. “She wasn’t even out yet when you married Hazel.”

Richard Dennis was
married
. For one second, Sarah thought she’d been horribly mistaken and that her parents hadn’t arranged this little party to introduce her to a potential husband. But then she saw the shadow pass across Richard Dennis’s finely boned face. She recognized that flash of pain, the same one she felt whenever someone mentioned Tom, and she understood why her parents had considered Richard Dennis so perfect for her.

The shadow passed quickly, however. He was accustomed to dealing with his pain, which mean he’d lost his wife some time ago. “So that explains why I don’t recall ever stepping on your toes while trying to master the waltz, Mrs. Brandt,” he said with a smile.

“I’m sure you never could have done such a thing, even in your youth, Mr. Dennis,” she replied as expected, returning his smile and pleasing her mother enormously.

The maid summoned them to supper, and Mr. Dennis offered his arm. Sarah took it and continued to smile, reminding herself that he was just as much an innocent victim here as she. She only hoped she could lead him to understand that she’d had no part in the planning of this, either. On the other hand, he might be flattered if he thought she was attracted to him or had asked to meet him. If she decided that was the best course of action, she was more than willing to flatter him to gain his cooperation.

She tried not to think how similar that would be to what Anna Blake had done to Nelson Ellsworth and Mr. Giddings.

Supper was a simple affair with fried oysters, cold chicken, Welsh rarebit, preserved fruit, stewed tomatoes, roasted potatoes, Charlotte Russe, ice cream, and cake.

As they made their way through the various courses, Mr. Dennis eventually had to express some interest in Sarah.

“I’m surprised our paths haven’t crossed as adults, Mrs. Brandt,” he said.

“We don’t keep the same society,” Sarah said with a smile. “I live down in Greenwich Village.”

He obviously found that odd but was too polite to say so. “It’s a very picturesque part of the city,” he said diplomatically.

“My husband’s work was there, and we enjoyed living in the neighborhood.”

“Sarah’s husband was a physician,” her mother hastily—and somewhat apologetically—explained. “He passed away several years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear it,” Mr. Dennis said. “I lost my wife, too. I hope you’ll forgive me if I don’t have a high opinion of the medical profession as a result.” His smile was infinitely sad.

“I understand,” she said. “I also wish that medical science could do more to save lives, but even after centuries of study, we still know very little about the causes of death and disease. It’s very difficult for me in my own work that I simply can’t save everyone.”

Sarah ignored the warning look her mother was giving her. She wanted to disenchant Mr. Dennis as quickly as she could and confessing her profession seemed the simplest way to do it.

“Are you a physician as well?” he asked in disbelief.

“A midwife,” she said.

“Sarah was always independent,” her father explained, with only a hint of disapproval.

“An admirable quality,” Dennis said, skillfully concealing whatever his true feelings on the matter might be. “Your life must be very interesting.”

Sarah could have shocked him right out of his chair, but she said, “I’d be bored without my work. I need to feel I’m being useful.”

Mr. Dennis had most certainly never imagined that a woman might be bored with the life of a society matron. To give him credit, however, he seemed at least willing to consider the possibility. “But surely, you must attend only women of your own class.”

“I attend whoever needs my services,” Sarah replied. “I don’t work to amuse myself, Mr. Dennis. I work to make my own living.”

He looked at her as if she were an entirely new kind of creature, but amazingly, she saw no disgust, or even disapproval, in his light eyes. “Hazel, my wife, she sometimes visited a Settlement House on the Lower East Side. I thought she did it because it was fashionable among her friends to play Lady Bountiful to the poor.”

“The Settlement Houses provide valuable services to the women and children in that part of the city,” Sarah said. “Your wife was also helping save lives, in her own way,” she added generously, without any real knowledge of what actual services Mrs. Dennis might have performed.

Sarah’s parents were listening to this conversation with growing discomfort. They knew such things weren’t suitable topics for discussion at table or between members of the opposite sex at any time. On the other hand, Mr. Dennis didn’t seem shocked or even put off by Sarah’s unorthodox vocation or her outspoken opinions. They hardly knew what to think.

But Sarah’s mother couldn’t abide any more of this. “How did your parents enjoy their trip to Europe this summer?” she asked Mr. Dennis, effectively changing the subject for the remainder of the meal.

When the ladies withdrew so the men could smoke their cigars, Sarah steeled herself for her mother’s indignation.

“Really, Sarah, must you inform everyone you meet that you are employed as a midwife? Some people might find that distasteful,” she said when they were alone.

“I’m not ashamed of my life, Mother, and I hope you aren’t ashamed of me.”

Her mother frowned, not pleased by Sarah’s attempt to make her feel guilty. “It’s not a matter of shame. It’s a matter of good taste. I thought you wanted Richard’s help for your friend. He’s much more likely to help you if you excite his chivalrous feelings.”

“Instead of putting him off with my
independence
?” she asked with just a trace of irony.

Somehow her mother managed to resist the temptation to argue with her. “I’m simply reminding you that men like to feel superior to women. If we let them believe we are helpless, they will gladly do whatever we require of them and consider themselves honored to have been of service.”

“Are you saying that men must be tricked into behaving well?” Sarah asked in amazement.

“Of course they do,” her mother said impatiently. “I thought you most certainly must have learned that by now. Men rely on women’s gentler natures to help them overcome their baser instincts. A businessman wouldn’t hesitate for a moment to dismiss your friend after the scandal he’s caused the bank, whether he actually killed that woman or not. I’m not convinced your friend even deserves your help, but since you’ve chosen to offer it, you must ingratiate yourself to Mr. Dennis to compel him to betray his natural impulse and do something kind instead.”

“And it won’t hurt if Mr. Dennis is so impressed with my gentle nature that he falls in love with me, either, will it?” Sarah asked with a sly grin.

Her mother shook her head. “I despair of ever seeing you wed again, Sarah. Dr. Brandt must have been a very tolerant man indeed to have endured your willfulness.”

Tom Brandt had
reveled
in her willfulness, but Sarah knew her mother wouldn’t believe her if she said so. “I’m perfectly happy as I am, Mother, and I have no intention of pretending to be something I’m not just to catch a husband.”

“If that’s your attitude, then I’m afraid you never will,” her mother said sadly.

The two of them sat in uncomfortable silence until the men joined them a few minutes later. Sarah had seated herself on a sofa so Mr. Dennis could sit beside her to facilitate their discussion of what Sarah wanted of him. Fortunately, he took the hint and seated himself just where she’d wanted him.

“Perhaps you’d play for us, my dear,” Mr. Decker said to his wife, surprising Sarah. She’d assumed the two of them would want to be included in her conversation with Dennis, but her mother rose obediently—too obediently, which meant they’d arranged this ahead of time—and went to the opposite end of the room where a small piano sat. Her father went with her and turned the pages as she played some simple pieces that were neither loud nor lively enough to interfere with Sarah’s purpose but which provided just the right amount of privacy for the younger couple.

“You must imagine I’m going to ask for a very great favor,” Sarah said with a small smile when Dennis looked at her expectantly.

“For your sake, I hope you are. I could hardly refuse you anything after your parents have gone to such lengths to ensure my cooperation,” he replied with a smile of his own.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Dennis. I hope you’ll believe that I don’t have any designs on your person,” she said.

“Why would I be worried by that?” he bantered back. “In fact, I shall be very disappointed if you don’t.”

Sarah had to stifle a laugh at that. “You must understand that my parents believe I married beneath my station,” she explained, “and ever since my husband died, they’ve been trying to rectify the situation. I had no idea you were a widower when I asked my father to introduce us.”

“But your parents did,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “And they were doing what parents do. Mine do the same thing, Mrs. Brandt, and with amazing regularity. I can’t tell you how many women they’ve thrust into my path in the past five years. It’s actually refreshing to discover that others are being imposed upon in the same way.”

Sarah shook her head. “We must stop smiling at each other, Mr. Dennis, or my mother will be sending out our engagement announcement in the morning mail.”

“And she knows I’m too much of a gentleman to renounce it, so you must help me avoid this very cleverly set trap. Quickly, tell me why you needed to meet me. That should certainly stop us both from smiling.”

At the thought of her mission, Sarah did indeed grow solemn. “It’s about Nelson Ellsworth.”

His smile vanished as well. “Ellsworth? What do you know of him?”

“He’s my neighbor, Mr. Dennis, and his mother is a dear friend of mine. I owe her a debt I can never repay, and I can’t stand by while her son is ruined through no fault of his own.”

Dennis had instantly become the cold-hearted businessman her mother had described. “I don’t believe he can be considered free of fault in this matter, Mrs. Brandt. He did seduce that young woman, and it appears that he—”

“Actually, it appears that
she
seduced
him,
Mr. Dennis.”