“A woman that scheming probably is. Lady Macbeth comes to mind.” She rubbed her hands together as if washing them. “‘Out damn spot! Out, I say!’”
That made Roen groan and laugh at the same time. “Finish your tea and then we’ll wake up Lizzie. She won’t sleep tonight otherwise, and I have plans.” He set his empty cup down and picked up the wicker laundry basket. She was still searching for words when he left with it.
•••
Martin Cabot reported to the lobby of the Butterworth ten minutes before the appointed time. It gave him an opportunity to observe the China girl going about her work. She moved with infinite grace. In the noisy dining room, she was a silent breath. It gave him pleasure to watch her. He was delighted todiscover that she boarded at the same house he did. He’d nearly made a fool of himself stumbling on the stairs when he caught sight of her leaving this morning for the Butterworth. He learned in passing from diners who were not as discreet as he was that her name was Fedora Chen. A lilting name, he thought. Beautiful.
He turned when he heard someone descending the staircase. It was two someones, in fact. Victorine’s progress was marked by her rustling skirt. The heavy tread that caught his attention belonged to Abe Butterworth.
He wasn’t certain what she expected of him, but when she held out the fur-lined cape she was holding over her arm, he dutifully draped it around her shoulders. She thanked Mr. Butterworth for making her transition to the suite an easy one and then dismissed him as if he were one of her father’s servants and not the owner of the hotel. Martin had seen it before. She had a similar disregard for him.
“Where are we going?” he asked. He’d thought when she sent that Frankie boy around with a message for him that they would be meeting in her room or in the dining room. His disappointment that it wasn’t the latter was keen, but there was no reason she should know that. He opened the front door for her and followed her onto the porch. He hoped to God she wasn’t going to insist they sit in one of the rocking chairs. He had many insignificant features, but he did have balls and they were already shrinking with the cold.
“Mr. Butterworth told me there is a soda fountain in the drugstore. No egg cream, I’m sure, but it will be a satisfactory place to talk.”
He offered an elbow to assist her down the steps, but she pulled back, making her preference to go it alone quite clear. “What did I misunderstand?” he asked when they reached the boardwalk. “I was under the impression you wanted me to keep my distance, and yet here we are. I don’t attract notice on my own, but with you beside me, I might occasion second glances, if only because people will ask themselves what I am doing with this beautiful woman.”
“That’s a pretty compliment, Mr. Cabot.” Victorine pulled the hood of her cape up over her hair and bent her head against the wind. “Thank God it’s a short walk.”
“I know. I bought a paper there yesterday.” He pointed out the sign several storefronts ahead of them. She didn’t answer his question until they were inside and seated at one of the small tables out of sight of the large front window. He asked for a root beer. She asked the druggist’s wife for one of her specialty teas.
Waiting for the arrival of their drinks, she said, “I’ve changed my mind about not being seen with you. It doesn’t matter any longer.”
“So quickly? You only met with him this morning.”
“You know?”
“That’s why you’re paying me. Of course I know.”
“Don’t be smug, Mr. Cabot. It doesn’t suit you. You didn’t know he was married.” She leaned toward him across the table. “How did you not know that?”
“Probably because it’s a recent occurrence. That newspaper I bought? I read it. Birth and death notices. No marriage announcements.”
“What about in today’s paper?”
“It’s not theTimes. It’s a weekly. It comes out on Mondays. You’ll have to wait.”
“No. I don’t. You will learn to whom he’s married before then. I am depending on it.”
“Are you sure he’s telling you the truth? Mr. Shepard would not be the first man to try to dodge the responsibility of fatherhood.”
“Then you’ll find that out, too.”
It would not be a difficult assignment. He’d overheard enough during his walkabout to know people talked easily and knew most things before they were reported in theLedger.He negotiated a bonus for himself anyway. She owed him at least that much.
They fell quiet when their drinks arrived. Victorine looked pointedly at the woman who brought them when she appeared to hover nearby. “Busybody,” she said when the woman moved out of earshot. “I despise them.”
“Really? I’ve always liked them. They’re valuable in my line of work.”
Victorine sniffed contemptuously. “I thought you were going to demand a room at the Butterworth.”
“It occurred to me, but I find Mrs. Brady’s boardinghouse has its charms, and as I will take my meals at the hotel from now on, I have the best of both worlds.”
•••
Roen purposely left the lamp burning as he prepared for bed, though he turned back the wick before he slipped under the covers. The bundling blankets were still dividing the mattress in two, and he noticed as soon as he entered the room that a third blanket had been added to the roll. The bundle was now higher and thicker than it had been the previous night. It made him chuckle when he turned on his side toward Lily and his bent knees bumped into it.
“What can you possibly find amusing?” she asked.
