Unseemly Ambition (35 page)

“…
however,” Lady Dunwick
was saying, “the affair is this Saturday. Have you any gowns with
you, Charlotte?”

Concordia stifled a snort. She doubted
Charlotte would have packed a ball gown to come teach at a women’s
college.

Charlotte gave a small smile as she
shook her head. “But I can send for one. I have that lovely
midnight taffeta you gave me, remember? Can you get me a suitable
mask? Excellent.”

Concordia cleared her throat. “I
assume, since my mother hasn’t yet accepted membership, she wasn’t
invited to the affair? She hadn’t mentioned it.”

Mother rarely shared her social doings
with Concordia, but Lady Dunwick didn’t know that.

“
Oh!” Lady Dunwick shifted
uncomfortably, appalled at what could be construed as a breach of
manners. “I’m so sorry. How careless of me to mention it at
all.”

“
No, no, it’s fine,”
Concordia soothed, hoping this was leading where she thought it
would. “Perhaps Charlotte can tell my mother about it, later. I’m
sure Mother would find such a social and charitable group quite
appealing, once she knows it better.”

Lady Dunwick looked at Concordia
thoughtfully. Concordia waited in mock innocence, hands placidly
folded in her lap, hoping her gambit of offering her mother as the
prize would work.

“
Would
you
be interested in attending the
ball, Miss Wells? You are such a good friend to Charlotte, and we
are grateful for your help in securing her a position at your
college. I’m sure it would be all right. I can tell them that you
are a prospective member. You two girls would have a great deal of
fun.”

Concordia pretended to consider
it.

“
I know it’s appallingly
short notice,” Lady Dunwick added apologetically. Charlotte made a
decent show of sending Concordia a beseeching look, as if to
convince her.

“
I would love to, Lady
Dunwick,” Concordia said, smiling. “Thank you very
much.”

They heard men’s voices in the
hallway.

“
Let’s discuss the details
later, shall we?” Charlotte proposed, casting an anxious eye at the
parlor door. “I’m sure Uncle Anthony and Bursar Isley have little
interest in the mundane details of a masquerade ball.”

“
Agreed,” Lady Dunwick
said.

Concordia breathed a sigh. Perhaps
they could make this work, after all.

The parlor door opened, and Sir
Anthony crossed the room in long-legged strides. “Susan, dear,” he
said, “there’s been a slight change in plans.”

Behind him, Concordia saw Barton
Isley.

And Isley’s wife, Lily.

Lady Dunwick gave her husband a
startled glance.

Mr. Isley cleared his throat. “We are
sorry to impose upon your luncheon,” he said stiffly, looking over
at his wife.

Lily Isley fluttered a handkerchief.
“Oh, Lady Dunwick! It was entirely my fault. I was with Barton when
he met Sir Anthony, and I realized it had been ages since we had
seen each other last. I simply had to come! I hope you don’t
mind?”

Lady Dunwick, with perfect
composure, crossed the room and clasped Lily’s hand. “Nonsense,
Mrs. Isley, it’s so
kind
of you to join us. What a festive group we will
have now! Please, be comfortable,” she added, gesturing to the
plump-cushioned settee where Concordia sat. Concordia obligingly
moved over.

They seemed to be collecting guests as
avidly as the Pied Piper collected rats, Concordia thought. Their
quiet lunch of three had now doubled to six. Concordia wondered how
the Dunwick kitchen staff would react. Mother’s cook would have
been in no end of a dither.

At least she had accomplished the
object of her visit. The ball seemed a promising opportunity to
learn more about the Black Scroll.

And here was an opportunity as well.
Concordia was in the same room with the only two men whom she knew
for sure were part of the Inner Circle. Perhaps she could learn
something. If Lily Isley didn’t dominate the conversation, of
course.

Lady Dunwick pulled the bell. “Marie,”
she said, when the maid answered the summons, “there are six of us
for luncheon now. Please set a place for Mrs. Isley.” The girl
nodded and left.

“
We should be ready
momentarily,” Lady Dunwick said, taking a seat.

Meanwhile, Concordia shifted uneasily
under Lily Isley’s frank scrutiny.

“
Oh, my dear Concordia!”
Lily exclaimed, “I heard about the incident at the Canton Street
stop last week. The students cannot stop talking about it. How
horrible for you! How do you feel?”

Concordia, mouth open in surprise at
the woman’s directness, clenched her hands together. Perhaps Lily
had done her a favor. If Isley or Sir Anthony, as part of the Inner
Circle, played a role in arranging Miss Hamilton’s “accident,” this
could be a chance to watch their reactions.

She cleared her throat. “Your concern
is most kind. I feel much better, but sadly, Miss Hamilton is still
in the hospital.”

Was it her imagination, or did Isley
give a start at the mention of Miss Hamilton? He covered it with
shifting in his seat and crossing his legs, but she felt sure he
knew something. Sir Anthony, on the other hand, merely listened
attentively, polite concern tugging at his brow. Lady Dunwick,
curiosity satisfied at last, was nodding and leaning forward
sympathetically.

Time to test the theory further.
Concordia remembered that Miss Hamilton had warned against taking
the “direct approach,” but no one had anticipated the current
circumstances.

“
In fact, the entire matter
is most distressing,” Concordia continued, keeping her gaze upon
Lily but watching Barton Isley out of the corner of her eye. It
would not do for him to realize he was under scrutiny. “The police
now think that the ruffian who pushed Miss Hamilton into the path
of the streetcar did so deliberately.”

Concordia sat back with a sigh of mock
distress, so she could get a good look at Isley and Sir
Anthony.

Lily patted Concordia’s hand. “Surely
not!” she said. “Whyever would they think that?”

Concordia explained about the abortive
attack upon Miss Hamilton in her hospital room later, leaving out
her own presence in the hospital room.

Lady Dunwick’s eyes widened. “How
dreadful! Do they know who it was?”

Concordia shook her head. “Sadly, no,”
she lied.

“
I’m not familiar with the
lady, but why would anyone want to harm her?” Sir Anthony asked. He
seemed perfectly at his ease, which made Concordia doubt her
conviction that he’d been party to the scheme to get Miss Hamilton
out of the way. Or was he merely skilled at masking his
feelings?

Isley, on the other hand, had paled.
Concordia saw Lily cast a concerned glance in his
direction.

“
Yes, who is this Miss
Hamilton? Is she a friend of yours?” Lady Dunwick asked.

Concordia nodded. “She used to be lady
principal at the school two years ago. She’s visiting a niece in
town, who just had a baby.” She turned to Sir Anthony. “We cannot
imagine who would want to harm Miss Hamilton. It’s all a perplexing
mystery.”

“
And obviously
distressing,” Sir Anthony said, with a warning tone to his voice.
He looked meaningfully at his wife.

Lady Dunwick took the hint. “Indeed,
yes,” she said briskly, “do let’s talk of other things.”

Talk passed to more innocuous topics.
The maid stepped in a few minutes later to announce
lunch.

“
Ah, at last,” Sir Anthony
said, standing and offering an arm to his wife. “I’m
famished.”

The meal was as good as
Concordia would have expected in such a household, with oyster
soup, duck
a l’orange
, and baby carrots in a ginger cream sauce, followed by a
lemon ice. Concordia could have easily eaten more, but it wouldn’t
do for a lady to display a voracious appetite. Unless that lady was
a college student. Those girls ate anything that wasn’t nailed
down.

“
So, Sir Anthony, I
understand you recently resolved a legal matter,” Concordia said,
wanting to learn more about the man. “What sort of case was
it?”

Sir Anthony blotted his lips on his
napkin before speaking. “I work in the field of patent law. It was
a difficult case, though most interesting. I won’t reveal any
names, but an inventor, holding a patent for what promises to be a
very lucrative device, was accused by another fellow of having
stolen the invention. The preliminary evidence this challenger
offered appeared damning, and I despaired of being able to
establish that my client had sole right to the invention. They had
been colleagues early on, you see.”

Concordia nodded. Isley shifted
forward in his chair, eyes on Sir Anthony.

“
However, it turned out the
plaintiff was all bluff and bluster,” Sir Anthony went on. “We went
to court this morning, with as much documentation as my client
could provide. I feared a lengthy, drawn-out process. Instead, my
client’s accuser arrives in court, hair mussed, collar disarranged,
claiming he was attacked on the way to court, and that his
blueprints and other documents were stolen. Can you imagine? He put
on quite a show. He could not produce a single witness to
corroborate his account. The judge dismissed the case, and we were
finished in thirty minutes.”

“
How unusual,” Charlotte
said politely.

“
It sounds as if the man
could have benefitted from acting lessons, wouldn’t you say, dear?”
Barton Isley asked his wife.

Lily smiled, and the conversation
shifted to lighter topics. Lily kept them all laughing with
anecdotes of her days on the stage, and the superstitious rituals
the cast employed before performances.

“
So what are your plans for
this afternoon?” Lady Dunwick asked Lily. “Shopping?”

“
Oh my, no, nothing as
frivolous as that,” Lily said. She smiled at her husband. “Barton
and I are meeting with Mr. Sanders in an hour to discuss the
upcoming debate. He wants us to help him with practice questions.”
Her eyes were alight with excitement.

Concordia saw Lady Dunwick grimace
behind her lunch napkin. No doubt the lady found the idea of a
woman actively engaged in politics somewhat distasteful.

“
Has the venue for the
debate been settled upon?” Sir Anthony asked.

Barton Isley pushed his plate away and
sat back. “We’ve decided upon the Long Brothers’ Palace Restaurant
and Hotel.”

Sir Anthony gave an approving nod. “At
City Hall Square. Excellent location.”

“
Indeed,” Lily said. “The
restaurant holds up to five hundred people, so the Ladies Civic
Committee will have ample room for the candidates’ breakfast that
precedes the debate.”

“
We are hoping for good
weather,” Isley added, “so that the debate itself can be held
outside on the square.”

Charlotte checked her watch. “Oh! I
should be getting back, if I’m to make my three o’clock
lesson.”

“
I’ll walk with you,”
Concordia said. She turned to their hostess. “Lady Dunwick, this
has been delightful. Thank you for your hospitality.”

Lady Dunwick smiled. “Come back
anytime, dear. It was a pleasure to have you.”

Barton Isley leaned over to his wife
and murmured, “Sir Anthony and I have a matter to discuss. It
shouldn’t take us long.”

Lily nodded as the men headed for the
study. Charlotte and Concordia collected their things from the maid
and left.

They stood outside the house, pulling
on their gloves and straightening their hats.

“
Which way?” Charlotte
asked. She pointed to the left, toward Sigourney Street. “We could
take the trolley right at that corner, but the route winds through
the downtown district…”

“…
or we could walk a few
blocks to Garden Street, and take the line that circumvents the
traffic, and has fewer stops,” Concordia finished. “Yes, I think
the latter prospect is the better choice.”

Turning in that direction, they passed
the Dunwick’s open study window. Concordia slowed her steps, and
put her hand on Charlotte’s arm as she heard the clear ringing
voice of Barton Isley.

“
...you could have more
successes like this one, with our help. Think of the future cases!
You would be unstoppable.”

Charlotte Crandall’s eyes widened, as
she, too, recognized the bursar’s voice.

“
What are you saying?” Sir
Anthony answered angrily. His voice was getting closer to the
window. Concordia stooped as if she’d dropped something. Charlotte
walked hastily down the sidewalk to avoid being seen. Sir Anthony
closed the leaded window with a thud, effectively making the rest
of the conversation inaudible
.

“
I don’t like the sound
of
that
,” Charlotte
murmured, as they continued on. “What has Uncle Anthony gotten
involved in?”