Unseemly Ambition (21 page)

“
I can think of only one
explanation, miss. Ruby knows this man. And she’s protecting
him.”

Why do you speak so faintly?
Are you not well?

Othello
,
III.iii

Spring Recess

April 1898

Concordia rang the bell of her
mother’s house in the Frog Hollow section of Hartford.

The housekeeper opened the door wide.
“Miss Concordia! So glad you’ve come for a visit.” She reached for
Concordia’s valise. “Here, let me take that. Come in!”

“
It’s nice to be home,”
Concordia said. “How are you, Mrs. Houston?”

The housekeeper bobbed her head.
“Doin’ just fine, dear, but you look a bit thinner than when I saw
you last, if you don’t mind me sayin’ so. You’ve been working too
hard, I expect.”

Concordia smiled at the housekeeper’s
maternal ways. Some things never change. “Where’s
Mother?”

“
She’s resting,” Mrs.
Houston said, “but she’ll be getting up any minute now. Why don’t
you go into the parlor? There’s a nice fire going, and I’ll bring
you a cup of tea.”

“
That would be
lovely.”

The parlor was much the way Concordia
remembered. Her mother’s love of order was evident in the matching
armchairs with their ornately turned legs, the regimental
arrangement of portraits along the far wall, and the evenly spaced
set of candlesticks on the mantel. However, the décor seemed to
have softened over time; the heavy drapes had been replaced with
lighter sheers to let the light and the breezes in; several large
crystal bowls of cut flowers topped the tables.

She settled into the burgundy velvet
armchair that had been a favorite of her father’s while he was
alive. Was it her imagination, or did she catch a faint scent of
his pipe tobacco, nearly thirteen years after his death?
Impossible, she decided.

Concordia was pouring out tea for
herself when her mother walked in, dressed in a simple dove gray
sateen wrapper, her silvering blonde hair piled in soft waves atop
her head. Concordia was struck by how happy Mother looked these
days, and much younger than her fifty-six years.

Mrs. Wells came over and gave her an
airy kiss on the cheek. “Concordia dear, I’ve been looking forward
to your spring recess for weeks. We’ll have such fun. The first
order of business, of course, is shopping.”

“
It is?” Concordia repeated
blankly.
Oh, no.
Had Mother already heard about her engagement? Were they going
shopping for bridal clothes?

“
Yes, of course…oh! I
forgot to tell you. I’ll be accompanying Robert and his family on a
steamer tour of Ireland in the summer. I need traveling
clothes.”

Concordia blinked. “Excuse me?” Her
mother, traveling with a man? And Mr. Flynn at that. The
relationship seemed to be progressing faster than Concordia
realized.

“
I’m sorry,” Mrs. Wells
said, flustered. “I got so busy that I forgot to write you about
it.”

“
Not at all,” Concordia
reassured her. “I’m usually the one who forgets to tell
you
things.” That brought
a smile. “Why don’t I pour you some tea and you can tell me about
this trip.” She picked up the antique silver teapot.

“
It’s a group of us,
really,” her mother explained. “Several ladies from the Irish Aid
Society, Mr. Flynn, his mother and sister. It’s all very proper,”
she added hastily. “I’ll be sharing accommodations with two other
ladies, and we’ll be visiting the orphanages that we have been
raising funds for. We’ll also visit the Flynn family’s birthplace.
Robert is most eager to have me see it.”

“
That sounds quite
exciting,” Concordia said politely. “You are serious about Mr.
Flynn, then? Does he return the feeling?”

Her mother flushed and kept her eyes
upon her cup. “We don’t have a spoken understanding, but we spend
quite a bit of time together, and he’s a most agreeable gentleman.
I esteem him greatly.”

“
I’m happy for you, Mother,
truly I am. Be careful not to give your heart away before you’re
sure of him.” How odd to be cautioning her mother, instead of the
other way around.

Mrs. Wells nodded as she met
Concordia’s eyes once again. “I know. I think I’ve learned a thing
or two about that. But let’s talk about you. How are your classes
this term? Have you been seeing much of Mr. Bradley?”

At least her mother asked about her
work first, before asking about David. That showed
improvement.

Now was the time to tell her.
Concordia took a sip of tea before answering. “Actually, I have
good news to share with you,” she said. Why was she having trouble
putting a smile on her face? Perhaps any kind of change had its
disquieting aspects, even happy occasions. “David and I are going
to be married.”

“
Oh!” Her mother clasped
her hands together. “Oh, my dear, I am so happy for you!” She
reached over and hugged her daughter enthusiastically, as Concordia
scrambled to keep her cup upright in her lap.

“
But,” Concordia held up a
hand, once her mother had sat down again, “it needs to be a secret,
until the school term is over.”

Mrs. Wells’ face fell. Concordia
imagined her taking a quick inventory of all the neighborhood
matrons she wanted to tell. “I can’t tell anyone? Whyever
not?”

“
I fear it would pose a
distraction for my students. Once they are finished with
end-of-term examinations, I’ll notify Lady Principal Pomeroy, and
share the news with everyone.”

Letitia Wells was quiet for a long
moment, looking at her daughter with anxious eyes.

“
Concordia, I cannot
believe I’m saying this, but—are you
sure
you want to marry David? You
don’t seem terribly delighted about it.”

Concordia set her cup aside with
trembling hands. “I’d be less than honest if I said I had
no…reservations. It’s a big change in my life. I’m not sure I’m
ready for it. But David is a wonderful man. I do love
him.”

“
So why not wait?” Mrs.
Wells said gently.

Concordia, open-mouthed in
astonishment at her mother’s question, was at a loss for words.
This was the woman who had taken to her bed for a week when her
daughter left home for a college education and a career. Now she
was advocating that Concordia postpone her engagement?

Mrs. Wells chuckled at the
look on Concordia’s face. “Yes, really. You know that the day you
marry and the day I hold your first child in my arms will be the
happiest of my life. But
your
happiness comes first. So I’m asking you, why not
wait?”

Emotion flooded Concordia. She choked
back a sob and put her head in her hands. “I’ll lose
him.”

Mrs. Wells moved to the settee beside
her daughter and embraced her. The strain that had been there too
long gave way at last. Concordia buried her face in her mother’s
arms and cried.

After a few minutes, Letitia passed
her a handkerchief. “Better?”

Concordia sniffed and
nodded.

“
Let me tell you something
about men.”

Concordia looked skeptical.

Letitia smiled. “This is what mothers
are for, dear. You can’t learn it in school. Don’t worry about
taking the time you need with David. Waiting is good for a man. It
builds character. Heaven knows men could use more
character-building, if our politicians are any indication of the
general population.”

Concordia smiled through the last of
her tears. “Does that mean you’re in favor of women’s suffrage,
Mother?”

Mrs. Wells grimaced. “Don’t be
impertinent,” she said mildly. “If David is half the man I believe
him to be, he’ll wait—and count himself lucky to do so. You won’t
lose him.”

Concordia sat up straighter. “You
really think so?”

“
I’m sure of it. I’m
surprised he didn’t come to me first, since your father has passed
away, before proposing. David strikes me as old-fashioned that way.
But if he had, I would had told him the same thing.”

Concordia felt the tightness in her
chest ease. She laughed. “I thought I was too old to need a mother.
Thank you.”

Mrs. Wells patted her hand. “A
daughter is never too old to need her mother.”

Spring Recess

April 1898

Concordia spent the rest of the
college recess at her mother’s house. She helped Mother shop for
her upcoming trip, browsing through the latest dinner dresses
suitable for a steamer voyage. In addition, they toured the current
exhibit at the Atheneum and enjoyed a quartet performing in Keney
Park.

Alas, not all of their activities were
congenial. Several women of Mrs. Wells’ social circle, learning
Concordia was here for a visit, stopped by for tea.

Most were well-meaning
elderly ladies, indulging idle curiosity about their friend’s
spinster daughter who
worked
for a living. A lady professor was a
novelty.

The cattier among Mother’s
acquaintances, however, were less well-intentioned, having come to
pry and jibe, preening the feathers of their self-importance in the
process.

Mrs. Griffiths was one of these. The
triple-chinned matron was both firmly corseted and firmly fixed in
her opinions of this woeful world.

“
So, my dear, you are still
teaching at that...girls’ school?” Mrs. Griffiths inquired
politely. Her eyes glittered with barely-disguised disapproval as
she finished off her scone.

“
It’s a women’s college,
and yes, I am,” Concordia answered.

“
How disappointing for you,
Letitia,” the woman said, looking to Mrs. Wells, her voice dripping
in false sympathy. “No doubt you expected your daughter to have
married and produced grandchildren to console you in your old age.”
She made a clucking noise, which unsuccessfully masked the
alarming
creaking
sound of her corset’s elastic-and-coraline boning as she
leaned forward to pluck the last cucumber sandwich from the tray.
The woman hadn’t popped a seam yet, but Concordia was waiting for
the day.

“
Not much chance of that,
now—she’s not getting any younger,” Mrs. Griffiths continued. “A
pity, too. We need a larger population of our
own
kind, lest we be overrun by the
foreigners in our city. They are breeding with abandon!” She fixed
both women with a glare.

Mrs. Griffiths was in fine form today,
Concordia observed. The woman’s remarks had the effect of buckshot,
hitting the widest possible radius wherever it was pointed. She had
belittled Concordia’s profession, relegated her to empty-wombed
spinsterhood, placed Mrs. Wells firmly in her dotage, and had
disparaged the entire immigrant population of Hartford, all within
five minutes. It was enough to make one want to jump into the
Connecticut River, pockets bulging with rocks.

Judging from the pained look on her
mother’s face, Concordia knew she was dying to tell Mrs. Griffiths
more about the current state of her daughter’s love
life.

“
Well, Agatha, actually—”
Mrs. Wells began.

“
Mother, would you mind
ringing for more of Mrs. Houston’s excellent cucumber sandwiches?”
Concordia interrupted, passing her the empty plate and giving her a
warning look.

Mrs. Wells gave her a
sheepish smile and rang the bell.

After Mrs. Griffiths left and they
were recovering from the experience, Concordia asked her mother
about the lady. “That woman has gotten more churlish with age. Why
do you put up with her harpy ways?”

Mrs. Wells made a face.
“I
had
been letting
the acquaintance lapse, but she’s a fixture among Robert’s social
set, so there’s really no avoiding her. Ever since my involvement
with this charity project, I’ve been obliged to humor the
woman.”

“
You mean she has donated
money for Irish orphans?” Concordia asked incredulously.

“
I pointed out that they
needn’t emigrate
here
if they weren’t starving over
there
.” Her mother smiled.

“
Ah, nicely done,”
Concordia murmured.

“
Speaking of the Irish Aid
Society,” Mrs. Wells added, “we are holding a charity luncheon
tomorrow. I was hoping you could join us. You already know several
of the attendees: the Dunwicks, the Isleys, Mr. Maynard, and Miss
Pomeroy.”

“
I didn’t realize the
plight of Irish orphans was such a popular cause,” Concordia said.
But it did sound promising; many of the same people who had
attended the Isley dinner party would be at the luncheon. Perhaps
she could learn something more to tell Miss Hamilton when she
returned. Concordia sent up a silent prayer, hoping Miss Hamilton
was close to finding Eli. There had been no word from her
yet.