With This Ring (30 page)

Another probe of the trunk unearthed
his razor of Toledo steel, which she snatched up with cries of
delight. “Oh, very good, sir,” she exclaimed. “I can shave everyone
to a hair’s breadth with this wicked thing. Let there be a strop,
too.” There was, and an extra cake of Spanish soap. She put the
items beside her and continued her search. She glanced through
several books of geometry and trigonometry, as applied to the
science of artillery, and shook them, in the hopes that banknotes
were hidden somewhere within. “You
are
intelligent, Major
Reed,” she said to him. “My compliments, certainly, but we are
still as poor as Job’s rooster.”

There remained only a nightshirt
that she would not have used to wipe off a wet dog, a towel so full
of holes that it would have been useless for all but the skinniest
of men, and a tablecloth with a chessboard drawn onto it, and what
must be chess pieces knotted into one corner. “Sam, whatever
treasures you once possessed, they are long gone now,” she said as
she carefully replaced the items in the proper order. “I will keep
your shaving gear, though.”

“
No treasures,” she told him as she
took off her dress and petticoat and lay down next to him in her
chemise. “Oh, well. I can manage tomorrow. Come put your arm around
me again, and say something sweet and tell me not to worry, that
you will solve all my problems,” she said. He was deep asleep now,
and did not move, and she knew he had no power to help her at all,
but she went to sleep with a sigh of considerable contentment,
resting close beside him.

*

He was even better in the morning,
able to hold the urinal himself, even though he still did not speak
or open his eyes. “What an effort you are going through,” she said
to him when he finished and she helped him lie back on his side
this time. She kissed his forehead, and she smiled to see him purse
his lips at the same time. “You’re getting better every day,” she
told him as she washed his face. “Your sickness is turning to
health, but I am afraid we are still poorer instead of richer.” She
looked at the wedding ring. “I have the remedy, Sam. Lie here and
get better please.”

She picked up her tearfully earned
two pounds from the bureau, counting it again to make sure that it
hadn’t grown magically overnight, like Jack’s beans. Combing her
hair took no time at all, and truly, because her hair was inclined
to curl, it didn’t look too dreadful.

Mr. Innis was sweeping the floor in
the public room when she came downstairs, with Maria fenced off by
a ring of chairs on their sides. “Ta’ missus and Suzie had a small
errand this morning,” he explained as she retrieved the baby. “I
promised to watch.”

She sat with Maria. “Will it be
forward of me to come in here tonight and announce that I will be
offering shaves and haircuts tomorrow?”

“
I think everyone will be happy to
hear you, Mrs. Reed,” he said as he swept up the dust and deposited
it behind the counter. “You would be amazed how many people have
been inquiring after your husband. This whole adventure has caught
everyone’s fancy.”

She smiled at him, and set Maria
down, balancing her against the chair. “I have discovered something
about adventures, Mr. Innis. I suspect they will seem much more
exciting five years from now, when viewed from a distance.” She
looked at her ring. And some will never be right, no matter how
many years pass.

“
I don’t doubt it,” he said, leaning
on his broom. “Well, here come my darlings, Mrs. Reed. Tell me what
you think.”

She turned around when Mrs. Innis
and Suzie came into the room, and her greeting froze on her lips.
There is nothing I can say, she thought finally, when her brain
started to function again. There is nothing I can do to repay the
kindness so visible before me, except succeed at my attempt. If
there is a stronger bond than the love and confederacy of women, I
do not know it yet.

She got up slowly and came toward
Mrs. Innis first, putting out a shaking hand to touch her shorn
hair, and then putting both her hands on the woman’s cheeks, which
were now as tear-stained as her own. “Your hair,” she said. “Oh,
what have you done for me?” And then her arms were around Suzie,
too, a girl-almost-woman who already knew more about kindness than
Mama or Kitty could ever imagine. These are my sisters, she thought
as she kissed them both, wept with them, and laughed at the same
time.

“
Oh, my dears,” she said. “Oh, my
dears.”

Suzie burst into loud sobs and
hugged her tighter. “We couldn’t have you pawn away your ring, not
with the major so ill,” she said. “It was only hair, Mrs. Reed. It
will grow back.”

Mrs. Innis reached into her reticule
and pulled out four coins. “With what you have, this makes six
shillings. I believe that is enough for the rent, plus any supplies
we need.” She smiled at her husband and blew him a kiss. “Davey had
already promised to ride to Ealing today for any special soaps or
creams we cannot purchase here. Take it, Mrs. Reed, with our
love.”

Lydia did, looking down at the money
in her hands, and knowing in her heart that no offering in church
or chapel was ever more sacred than that which she held. “I will
pay you back, of course,” she murmured, “except that I can never
really do that.”

“
We know you will,” Mrs. Innis said,
and hugged her around the waist. “This is our investment, and we
expect a good return.”

Lydia nodded. I am loved, she
thought in wonder. I think now that I can do anything. “Very well,”
she said as she pocketed the money. “I am off to Mrs. Broadbent’s
house. If you want to compound the felony, I would welcome your
help in cleaning that shop. You say Mr. Broadbent only had one eye,
Mr. Innis? I am certain there will be dust and grime enough for us
to see.”

Mrs. Innis was looking beyond her
with her mouth open, so Lydia turned around in time to see
Maria—hands upraised, eyes fierce with concentration—stand by
herself before waving her arms about and plunking down. “Mrs. Reed,
what a day this is!” she declared as Lydia picked up the baby and
kissed her. “We are shorn like sheep now, and ready to dig into a
dusty barbershop, and Lady Maria has favored us with progress of
her own. Tell me please that the major is better, and I will be
full enough for one day.”

“
He is better,” Lydia said. She went
to the door, her step light for the first time in days, her mind
clear. “I hope you will not stand around all day! Our investment
awaits. We have a barbershop to open!”

S
kirts
hiked up, sleeves rolled to their shoulders, they toiled like Turks
all day in the barbershop. There wasn’t a single surface that
didn’t need cleaning, and nothing that escaped their attention.
“You know, of course, what the amusing thing is about all our
effort,” Mrs. Innis told Lydia after she had removed two wigs that
looked remarkably like dead things. “A man would never even notice
this dirt. Essentially, my dear, our labors are in
vain.”

Lydia worked steadily, stopping only
long enough to return to check on the major. The first time, Mr.
Wilburn was there. “Delightful, delightful, Mrs. Reed,” he said,
gesturing to his patient, who stretched out in comfortable sleep.
“We even had a couple words of conversation.”

“
Then I envy you, sir,” she said,
sitting beside her husband.

The surgeon shook his head, even
though none of the merriment left his eyes. “It was a strange
conversation. Something about chess.”

“
He has a tablecloth with a
chessboard drawn on it,” she said, her hand on his foot. “And look!
You have got him into a nightshirt. You must have discovered that
his shoulder is better.”

“
Much better.” The doctor rose to
go. “Mrs. Reed, I predict that his eyes will be open tonight, but I
would not hold out for too much sensible conversation yet.” He
kissed her cheek. “But, then, my dear, how many men engage in
sensible conversation when they have no excuse of a morphine
pick-me-up? Good-day!”

How many, indeed, she thought, as
she pulled his nightshirt neatly below his knees and wondered if
this was a loan from the shorter Mr. Innis. As she watched him,
alert for any change, he opened his eyes and slowly stretched out
his good arm.

I know an invitation when I see one,
she thought as she lay down beside him and rested her head on his
outstretched arm. “It’s been a long day, Sam, and here we are only
at noon,” she said. “I am cleaning out a barbershop, and I will go
into business tomorrow morning.” She turned her head to watch his
expression, and to surmise that none of this was making any sense
to him. “The only thing of value I found in your trunk was your
shaving razor, my dear Mr. Reed, but that was quite
enough.”

He lay watching her, his expression
blank. In another moment, he closed his eyes and slept. Taking her
turn, she looked at him, sorry to see his cheeks so sunken, but
gratified by the evenness of his breathing. Soon you will be robust
again, she thought, a state in which I have never seen you. She
kissed him, rested her cheek against his for a brief moment, then
hurried downstairs to feed Maria. In a half hour, she was scrubbing
shelves in the barbershop again.

She had never worked so hard before,
not even at St. Barnabas, spurred on by the unwearying efforts of
Mrs. Innis, who obviously took her investment seriously. She was
ruthless with dust. If this venture fails and I am left to sit
outside on the road with a tin cup, at least I will know that I did
everything I could, she told herself.

Her fear of failure turned dinner to
sawdust. I might as well nibble on the tablecloth, she thought as
she carried on what she felt was sparkling conversation. She could
have saved her breath; after fifteen minutes of witty repartee, she
stopped to see both the Innises grinning at her.

“
What? Am I making no sense?” she
asked.

“
None whatever,” the innkeeper
replied cheerfully.

“
We don’t mind, if it makes you feel
better, dearie,” Mrs. Innis said.

The only thing that will make me
feel better would be to dump all my problems in someone else’s lap,
she thought. With a sigh, she excused herself and looked in on
Maria, who already slept under Suzie’s watchful eye. “I confess, I
wish I could sleep that peacefully,” she whispered, her hand on
Suzie’s shoulder.

“
You will, Mrs. Reed, tomorrow night
when you have made pots of money,” the girl said.

Everyone is confident but me, Lydia
thought as she left the public house and breathed deep of the cool
night air. Unable to help herself, she walked back to the
barbershop and scrutinized their day’s work through a window so
clean it was nearly invisible. Mentally she ticked off all the
soap, shampoo, and pomade which lined the shelves. There was the
stack of barber’s linen, basins, and combs and brushes, and Sam’s
Spanish razor, honed to a wicked edge.

“
Hello, Mrs. Reed! Ready for
business tomorrow?”

She gasped and leaped back from the
window, her hands behind her back like a child in a china shop. It
was only the constable, out for his own evening stroll. If he
noticed how fine-tuned she was, he chose not to remark on it, but
only tipped his hat to her. “I’ll be there tomorrow,” he assured
her. “And tonight, I’ll try all the doors all over Market Street
and look out for evildoers who might be after pomade or talc.” He
looked around elaborately and gave her a slow wink that banished
the terror from her mind.

“
I will look forward to giving you a
haircut tomorrow, sir,” she said, then gasped again when he whisked
off his hat and exposed a bare scalp. “Perhaps a shave,
instead?”

He grinned, wished her good night,
and continued on his rounds. She returned to the inn, and steeled
herself for one last ordeal that night.

The public room was full. Well,
Lydia Reed, you have tended fearful wounds, harangued a whole
banquet hall of lords and ladies, wounded a road agent, and turned
short hair into a community fashion. Put one foot in front of the
other and go in that room. They may be rough and uncouth, and Mama
would spit nails if she could see you, but there is not an enemy in
the bunch. They want you to succeed.

She went in and stood in front of
the bar. The pub fell silent so quickly that she knew the
inhabitants could hear her stomach thud down to her ankles and
bounce back. She cleared her throat, a sound so puny that she
blushed. “I just wanted to announce that the barbershop will be
open tomorrow morning and every day thereafter for the next two
weeks, excepting Sundays,” she said.

Several of the men nodded and smiled
at her. The rest returned to their pipes, drinks, cards, cribbage,
and conversation. I could almost use a pint of ale, she thought.
Now, wouldn’t that dumbfound these men? She smiled at Mr. Innis and
walked quietly up the stairs.

The room was dark, but she did not
need a candle, considering that the moon was full and seemed to be
stopped right outside their room. She admired the night for a
moment, resting her elbows on the windowsill to absorb it all. It’s
a moon to share with someone, she thought, and glanced at Sam. Mr.
Wilburn has great confidence in you, Sam, and so do I. Maybe we can
admire next month’s full moon?