The Pursuit of Lucy Banning (23 page)

Will turned and trod slowly back toward Michigan Avenue.

Charlotte unfastened the fifteen pearl buttons down the back of Lucy’s silver gown and helped her step out of its billowing mounds of silk. She handed Lucy a robe and carried the gown to the closet to put it on its hook.

“I’m exhausted,” Lucy said. “I think I’m too tired to wash my face.”

“I’ll help you,” Charlotte offered, moving toward the small bathroom off the anteroom.

“No, please, Charlotte, you’ve done enough. Just sit and talk to me.”

“Yes, miss.” Charlotte sat erect on the edge of the chaise lounge and Lucy relaxed in an armchair.

“How did I do tonight?” Lucy asked. “You were there most of the time.”

“Anyone looking in would think you were happy.”

“Then my mother should be pleased,” Lucy said, “and perhaps I’ll have some peace tomorrow.”

“Won’t she want to know what you thought of the gentlemen?”

“Oh, probably.” Lucy waved a hand. “I’ll think of something to say without committing myself. The truth is, the only thing I could think about all evening was Will. I wish he had a telephone. I want to know if he got the plans finished. I want to know if he’s going to be able to sleep properly tonight. I want to know if he’s hopeful. I want to know everything he’s thinking.”

“And I’m sure he wants to tell you.”

Lucy smiled. “That was the perfect thing to say, Charlotte. Have you ever felt that way about a man?”

“No, miss, I haven’t.” Charlotte’s answer was barely audible.

Lucy held her breath for a beat then asked, “Not even Henry’s father?” In all these months of what Lucy hoped was a growing friendship, Charlotte never once mentioned Henry’s father.

Charlotte stood up. “I’m weary myself. If you don’t need anything else tonight, I think I’d like to turn in.”

She was gone before Lucy could apologize.
Now you’ve gone and done it. She’ll never trust you again.
Lucy turned off the lamp on the table next to her chair and sat in the darkness.

 25 

L
ucy stood outside the gallery, dreaming of spring. The winter had been bitter harsh—even for Chicago—but at last the first week in March arrived, the time of year when whimsical memories of spring emerged from shadow and feet began to believe warmth still existed.

Free of her engagement to Daniel, Lucy had eagerly agreed to visit a new art gallery with Will on this Tuesday afternoon. They made the decision to celebrate sending off the drawings of Will’s first commission before everything had gone so wrong. Standing outside the gallery, braced against the wind, Lucy wasn’t sure Will was even coming—but she wanted to be there if he did. She had not heard from him all weekend, despite her anxiety on his behalf on Saturday night and all day Sunday.

Monday was consumed with meetings and work related to the women’s exhibit for the fair. It hardly seemed possible that the World’s Columbian Exposition would open to the public in less than two months. The women’s building was finished, while many others were not, and the committee was busy arranging exhibit items Lucy had carefully catalogued. Every week closer to opening day seemed more demanding than the last, but Lucy was confident the exhibit would be ready.

The weekend was agonizing and Monday exhausting, but now it was Tuesday and she hoped to see Will.

Lucy nodded politely at people who passed her on the sidewalk. She tried strolling nonchalantly up and down the block, always careful to keep the gallery within a glance. She loitered on a corner and monitored the direction from which she thought Will might come—if he were coming from his office, if he were still employed. Nearly an hour passed, and Lucy reluctantly surrendered to the reality that Will was not coming.

And then he was there. His lanky form threaded down the block toward her—from the direction of his office. Lucy planted her feet and waited for him at the gallery entrance.

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” Will said after they greeted each other. “I had to take care of some things unexpectedly.”

“At the office?” she said hopefully. “Is everything all right at the office?” She wanted to reach out and take his hand, but she did not dare.

“Is everything all right?” he echoed. “That’s a bit difficult to discern at the moment.”

“Please tell me about it,” Lucy coaxed. “I want to know. Everything.”

“It’s not very interesting.”

“Let’s go inside. You can tell me about it while we see the exhibit.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Lucy, I can’t stay.”

“Will, what’s wrong? Talk to me!”

He shook his head again. “I can’t. I have to go right back to the office.”

“More work?”

“Something like that.”

“Will I see you Friday at St. Andrew’s?”

“I’m not sure. It’s difficult to plan very far in advance just now.”

“I’ll be there all day enjoying my new office. Please come and find me if you can.”

He didn’t nod. He didn’t shake his head. He merely said, “I’m sorry about the exhibit, Lucy, but I do have to go.”

“I understand,” she said. But she didn’t.

Will walked to the end of the block before he permitted himself a glance back at the gallery. Lucy was not there. She might have gone inside without him, or she might have gone home. He couldn’t know.

He’d told her the truth: he was going back to the office. Monday had come and gone with no word from the client about whether they would consider the replacement drawings. Tuesday had largely passed as well. Will could think of nothing more he could do other than be at the office from the moment it opened in the morning until the last partner locked the door in the evening, no matter what time that was.

It was better this way, under the circumstances. He and Lucy had done nothing more than share an afternoon pot of tea—albeit on a regular basis—or play with the orphans together. It wouldn’t do Lucy any good to get further involved with his difficulties.

On Friday, Lucy heard each tick of the clock, one anxious pause after another. Hours crept by, and no matter how much work she buried herself in, she knew the precise time at every moment of the day. Will rarely arrived at St. Andrew’s before three in the afternoon, and generally by five she was on her way home, so they had only a few minutes to steal together. By four-thirty on this day, though, she gave up hope he would come. Whatever was happening at his firm was consuming and obviously required his best attention.

At a quarter to five, Lucy began to pack some papers in her satchel. The ranks of eight-year-olds at St. Andrew’s were swelling for some reason, and the teachers were asking for more classroom space for this age group. Lucy had offered to try to sort out the challenge. She could easily ponder the dilemma at home. At five minutes until five, Lucy resigned herself to going home without seeing Will. She took her cloak off the hook, wrapped it around her, pulled up the hood, and stuck her head in Mr. Emmett’s office.

“I’m going now, Mr. Emmett,” Lucy said. “I’ve taken some papers to sort out the classroom question. I’ll try to propose a solution next Friday when I come.”

“Thank you, Miss Banning. That will be very helpful.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

“Don’t forget to look in on the dining hall on your way out,” he said.

“Oh?”

“Mr. Edwards has taken the painting in hand with some of the older boys. They started about an hour ago.”

The folds of her cloak hid her tremble. “Yes, I’ll be sure to have a look.”

“Good night, then.”

Lucy turned and clicked down the hall to the dining room, pausing in the doorway to survey the scene. Will had his sleeves rolled up, with a can of blue paint in one hand and a brush in the other. Five boys ranging in age from eleven to fourteen stood at stations along the back wall listening carefully to Will’s instructions about the direction of their strokes and the necessity of wiping up paint dribbles immediately.

Lucy went no further.

Clearly Will had been in the building for quite some time. If he’d wanted to speak to her, he would have. At least he had not abandoned St. Andrew’s. At least for now, he wouldn’t break Benny’s heart. Blinking back stinging tears, Lucy resumed her path out of the building.

Outside, she could hardly believe her eyes.
Oh, not now!
There was Daniel, leaning against his carriage looking as if he were exempt from the cold.

“Hello, Daniel,” she said evenly, fully intending to press past him.

“Hello, Lucy. I didn’t realize I would run into you today.” Casually, he stepped into her path.

Does he think I’m an idiot?

“Daniel, why do you follow me?” Lucy asked.

“What makes you think I’m following you?”

“Do you have business at the orphanage?” she asked, sighing.

“I promised my mother I would bring her donation.”

“You could have just mailed a check.”

“The personal touch is so much more meaningful, wouldn’t you agree? Things don’t get lost that way.”

Things don’t get lost?
“Mr. Emmett is in his office. I’m sure he’ll be grateful for whatever you can give.”

“I understand Mr. Edwards has begun volunteering here as well.”

“Yes, that’s true.”
Get to the point, Daniel.

“I also understand he’s run into some difficulties at his place of employment.”

“You would have to ask him about that.”

“Perhaps I will, the next time I see him.” He gestured toward the carriage. “If you care to wait while I go see Mr. Emmett, I would be happy to escort you home. I won’t be a minute.”

“That’s not necessary. I can manage.”

“Yes, I suppose so. After all, you’ve been navigating the city for quite some time without my knowledge.”

She held her response to his barb.

“Well,” Daniel said, “I suppose it’s a relief that your father’s things were recovered.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow. “He’s grateful to have them back.”

“No doubt. It’s rather odd they should turn up where they did, don’t you think?”

Lucy was silent, trying to read the face of the man she had once thought she would marry.

“That pen leaks,” Daniel said. “I’m not sure why Samuel is so fond of it. You’re fortunate it didn’t leak on your things in the drawer.”

“I didn’t realize you’d heard all the details,” Lucy said.

“Oliver,” Daniel said simply. “He keeps me up to date.” He looked at Lucy’s face, unflinching.

Lucy nodded.
Oliver has been in New York for the last two weeks.

“Perhaps I’ll see you later,” Daniel said, smiling in that way Lucy recognized as pleasure. “I may spend the night in town so I can be fresh for an early meeting at the bank. I have a new account, a firm seeking a loan to build a new office building. It just came up this week.”

Daniel tipped his hat at Lucy and sauntered into St. Andrew’s.

Lucy pivoted, suddenly in need of a robust walk. She would not even try to find a cab.