Chapter Thirteen
Claire and Rose waited arm in arm on the sidewalk next to Thompson’s Spa on Washington and Court streets. It was their favorite place for a doughnut and a drink although they weren’t allowed to actually go inside the males-only cafe. They’d given Robert their orders instead.
“I’ll have the egg phosphate,” Rose had declared.
“You’re joking,” Claire had said, eyes wide. “That’s a man’s drink.”
“How can a drink be a man’s or a woman’s?” Rose had shot back. “Especially if it’s nonalcoholic.” She’d gestured at the sign that said “This is a temperance bar” in case there was any doubt. “Anyway, I was only teasing. I knew you’d raise an eyebrow. I’ll have the egg lemon, please, Robert.”
“I’ll have an orangeade, dear brother. And don’t forget the doughnuts.”
They’d handed him two dimes each and waited.
“There,” Claire said, pointing to a bench from which two men got up and walked away. “At last. Let’s sit.”
In another moment, Robert returned, followed by a soda clerk carrying a tray.
“You know,” Rose said to the young man, “if your establishment would let us come inside, it would save you these extra steps.”
“It’s all right, miss. I don’t mind. If you came inside, two lovely ladies such as yourselves in particular, it would be bedlam and mayhem and every other kind of trouble. If you know what I mean. You’d simply be a distraction to honest men trying to slake their thirsts.”
Robert cleared his throat nervously. “Take your things, ladies, so this nice clerk can get back inside before we all get in trouble.”
Rose shrugged before helping herself to her glass and her plate off the tray. Claire did the same. Halfway through her snacks, she saw Finn come out of a nearby alley that housed the Bell in Hand, which definitely was not a temperance bar.
Before she could process seeing him, he ducked into an office across the street. The unexpected sight of the man set her pulse to racing. It was still so very strange that he was alive and breathing.
She tried to make out what type of business he’d gone into, fairly sure it was a newspaper publisher. After all, this was informally known as “Newspaper Row.” Of course, she was nearly certain that whatever he was doing, it had something to do with theGarrard’s sinking. Didn’t everything in her life suddenly have to do with that cursed ship?
She stuffed the doughnut into her mouth, chewing with her cheeks puffed out like one of the chipmunks that ran about the Common.
Should she investigate? What about Claire and Robert, who had taken a seat next to his sister with his own selection, a cup of Russian tea and a piece of pie?
She swallowed with difficulty and sipped her drink to wash it down, keeping an eye on the business’s doorway and trying to listen to Claire’s chatter about Franklin’s superior intelligence.
“Superior to what?” she heard Robert ask, and it was the first time he seemed to show a spark of wit and not merely go along with his twin’s opinion. Rose smiled.
At that moment, Maeve came walking along with her aunt, Franklin’s mother.How fortuitous!Perhaps Maeve and Robert could be a match if only they took a slight interest in one another.
Robert stood at once, and Rose and Claire joined suit as soon as they’d wiped the crumbs from their mouths and brushed them from their laps.
“Good day to you all,” Maeve said, glancing warily at Rose as she always did since their encounter at the Lowell’s party.
Still feeling a tad ashamed of her behavior, Rose had tried to make amends. This was a good day to do more than that.
“Maeve, Mrs. Brewster. How lovely to see you? Can Robert get you both a refreshment from Thompson’s?” Rose asked, smiling sweetly.
They stared at her, but she blinked at them all. What? she wondered. Was she not always gracious and thoughtful, even in the middle of Washington Street?
Claire spoke first directing her remark to Franklin’s mother. “The doughnuts are most delicious. I do recommend them most wholeheartedly.”
Mrs. Brewster glanced at the front of Thompson’s, then back at Claire with a scowl, tugging at her short fitted bustle coat. “They won’t do for my waistline, I’m afraid. Rather thoughtless even to suggest.”
Claire gasped, although Franklin’s mother continued as if she hadn’t heard. “I have an advertisement to place for a new housemaid,” she said, speaking only to Maeve. “I can’t seem to keep a girl these days. I’m stopping at both theDaily Advertiserand theCourantso I’ll be a few minutes. You may stay here with your friends.” And with that, Mrs. Brewster hurried off.
Rose noted with worry that Franklin’s mother wasn’t exactly warm toward Claire. In fact, she was downright rude and dismissive. She hoped the old biddy — who, truthfully speaking, wasn’t that old yet acted like a biddy nonetheless — didn’t stand in the way of Claire’s fondest desire. The idea of having her for a mother-in-law though, how awful!
Maeve stood a tad awkwardly in their midst.
