The Sugar Queen

by Tess Thompson

  “Would you like anything else to eat or drink? More brandy?” Lord Barnes asked, deadpan.

  “I would. However, I’m cutting back on the amount of poison I consume in one sitting.”

  A low rumble of laughter came from deep in his chest. “As long as you’re sure.”

  “Quite sure.” I lifted my chin and allowed myself to smile back at him. I’d eaten so much the bones of my corset were pressing into my ribs, making it hard to breathe. My head continued to ache. I grazed the bump with my fingertips. Yes, it was still the size of an egg.

  “I’ll be forthright, Miss Cooper. I thought you were older.”

  I pressed into the palm of my hand with my nails. Correspondence regarding my age and experience had been misleading. I’d done it purposely, hoping he would assume I was older, given my description of myself as a spinster. “Are you disappointed?” My mouth dried. I unhooked my hands to sip from the water glass Jasper had left for me.

  “Not at all. However, it produces a problem.”

  I pressed my nails harder into my hand, praying that he would not send me back. Going home now would be the end of every hope I had for the future.

  Lord Barnes tugged on his ear. “How can I put this delicately?”

  I waited, heart pounding.

  “I have a predicament.” He cleared his throat. “You see, there are men here who are coarse—uncouth and uneducated and angry that their hopes for gold or silver are squelched when they arrive to find the mountains and rivers stripped of their former bounty. There aren’t many women. If you were an ancient schoolmistress, I wouldn’t worry.” He rose from the chair and crossed the room to a table with various decanters of alcohol and poured himself another drink.

  “Worry?” I squeaked the word out of my dry mouth. What did he mean?

  “Yes, Miss Cooper.” He sat across from me once more. “I’m afraid that a lovely young lady will not be safe at the boardinghouse. In good conscience, I cannot allow you to live there.”

  I swallowed tears. If he made me go home, I would die. Yes, die. How could I fail so miserably already? I cursed myself. I should have told him the truth about my age during our correspondence. “I’m tougher than I look, Lord Barnes.” My voice wavered, defying my argument.

  “Miss Cooper, I’m sure your moral toughness is unparalleled. Your grit has been demonstrated by making the journey alone without funds to eat properly. However, given your…your appearance…it’s simply not possible for you to live at the boardinghouse. We have one woman to eighty men. I wouldn’t sleep at night.”

  I reached for my water glass but instead picked up the one with brandy in it and took a large swallow before I realized, which caused another terrible coughing fit. By the end of almost hacking up a lung, I wished the floor would simply open up and consume me. So much for the lion or the plucky heroine. They’d both died a quick death. My vision blurred with tears from the fit and the panic that surged through me. “Please, don’t send me back. I need this job desperately.”

  He put up his hands, obviously alarmed by my tears. “No, no. I’m not suggesting that at all, Miss Cooper. I was honest with you in my letters. I’ve been trying to get a teacher out here for years.”

  “I’m here. I don’t want to go home.”

  “Yes, we’re in agreement. I don’t want you to go home, either. Thus, you will live here with me and my family. This way I can rest easy that you’re safe and well taken care of.”

  “Stay here?” I couldn’t possibly. A family lived here. I didn’t belong in this posh mansion with an English lord and his beautiful children. “I’m not someone who should live in a house like this.”

  “Why would you say that?” The laughter had left his eyes. He stared at me with what appeared to be genuine curiosity.

  “I’m… Well, look at my shoes.” Like an utter oaf, I lifted one foot from under the table. “Two weeks ago, I was scrubbing floors to keep my family from starvation.”

  His mouth opened, then shut, then opened again. “Miss Cooper, the state of your shoes has nothing to do with your merit. You’ve come all this way, exposed yourself to danger and hunger, which is all I need to know about your character. This house is big enough for all of us. Please, this is the only solution.”

  My heart beat so fast I was afraid it might explode. He wasn’t sending me away. He wanted to keep me safe. Lord Barnes was a gentleman with a warm heart. I gushed, the words tumbling out of my mouth. “If you want me here, then I’ll stay. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my age. I was afraid you’d discard me because of my lack of experience. I left out a few details, which was wrong of me. It’s that I’m desperate. My mother’s sick, and my sister’s only sixteen. They need my salary.”

  “Consider it no more.”

  I breathed for the first time in more than a minute. “I promise I won’t be a disappointment.”

  “I’ve complete confidence in you.”

  I murmured another thank-you and studied my hands as fatigue settled on me as heavy as the falling snow outside the window.

  “May I ask what’s wrong with your mother?”

  “It’s something with her lungs. The city air makes it hard for her to breathe.” I stopped talking, afraid I would burst into tears if I said much more.

  He was quiet for a moment before he said, “It’s all right to miss them, Miss Cooper. I hope, in time, your sadness will lessen. We’ll keep you busy enough that perhaps you’ll be distracted.”

  “So far, it’s proven to be an adventure.” I let my gaze stray to his face. “I’ve already been thrown from a sleigh, awakened on a stranger’s sofa with the eyes of five little angels staring at me.” I found myself smiling at the memory. “Not to mention the kind offer to let me stay at your magnificent house.”

  He looked away as a smile crinkled his face. “I have one more thing to discuss with you.”

  “Yes?”

  “In our correspondence, I wasn’t completely forthright, either. The job I’m asking of you is not as simple as teaching children. Not in the conventional sense, anyway. We have a great deal of men here who have come from other places and cannot read or speak English. I’d like you to teach them as well.”

  “Adult men?”

  “I understand it’s a bit unusual.” He swirled whiskey around his glass without looking at me. “I’ll pay you double if you conduct night school twice a week.”

  “Double?” Double pay would mean I could save as much as I sent home. I could reunite with my sister and mother sooner.

  “You’ll be safe,” he said. “I’ll make sure you have a male escort during the lessons to and from the house.”

  “Why do you care so much?” I asked.

  His eyes narrowed as he tapped one finger against the arm of his chair. “The men have come here for a chance to better their lives. When they’re cheated and stolen from because of their ignorance, I’m angered. Education provides them a weapon.”

  I clasped my hands together under the table. “You and I share a common passion, Lord Barnes.” I looked at the bookshelf instead of him so that I could speak actual words. “The power and importance of literacy—of books. For anyone to have much of a chance for improving their circumstances, reading is essential. I’ve been poor all my life. Without education, I would not be here right now speaking with you of such lofty notions. It’s not only that there are few choices of occupations for a woman that I chose teaching. I’m not likely to ever be important or rich or powerful, but to have taught one human to read, I will go to God in peace.”

  “You’re right, Miss Cooper,” he said, low and throaty. “We share a common passion.”

  My stomach fluttered.

  “You’re an unusual man.” A rich white man who cared about the plight of the less fortunate was most unusual. At least as far as my world was concerned. No one had cared about my family. It was up to me to save us.

  “I’m going to take unusual to mean uniquely wonderful.” The corners of his mouth lifted into a
gentle smile.

  “I think that’s a proper assessment.”

  “Then you’ll do it? You’ll teach the men?”

  “Under one condition.” I smiled back at him. “I’d like women to be welcomed as well.”

  “Without question,” he said as if it were nothing. “You must be exhausted. We’ll work out the rest of the details tomorrow.”

  We said our good nights, and I followed Jasper up the gleaming mahogany stairs to the third floor. At the end of the dark hallway, he opened the door to a bedroom. I walked past him into a room with a large poster bed, dresser, and secretary desk. A cozy fire roared in the stone hearth. A girl dressed in a black smock with a white apron was finishing up making the bed.

  “This is Merry,” Jasper said. “Anything you need, simply ask.”

  I opened my mouth to let him know a maid was unnecessary but thought better of it. Discouraging what was obviously a household tradition would be rude. I’d talk with Lord Barnes in the morning and make sure he knew a maid was not necessary.

  The air seemed lighter the moment Jasper left the room. He made me nervous with his piercing gaze and all that British formality. My suitcase had been opened and all of my items hung in a wardrobe. A washcloth and towel were waiting on the dresser. My flannel nightgown was strewn over the bed, like a friend waiting for a midnight chat.

  “Miss, may I help you undress?” Merry wore her butterscotch-hued hair in a braid twisted around the top of her head. Shy hazel eyes peered at me from an oval face.

  “No, thank you,” I said, smiling in what I hoped conveyed a relationship of equality between us. “I’ve been undressing myself since I was three.”

  Merry’s mouth twitched, but she didn’t smile. “I’ve drawn you a bath.” She pointed toward a closed door. “The bathroom is between this room and the nursery. It’s the same bath the children use, but they’re all fast asleep by now, so take your time.”

  “A warm bath?”

  “We have hot water in this house,” she said.

  “Have I come to heaven?”

  This time she smiled. “Lord Barnes had this house built with only the finest things. You’ll be happy here, I hope.”

  “I shall be.” Even if I was homesick for my mother and sister. A bath made up for a lot. “The train ride was horrific. I haven’t had a proper scrubbing since I left home.”

  “I came from Chicago two years ago,” she said. “On the train from Denver, I thought the whole thing was going to fall off those rickety tracks and I’d be killed and my mother would never know what happened to me.”

  I laughed. “I thought the same thing.”

  We shared a smile before she bustled over to the fire and adjusted the grate. “I’ve just put a few logs on the fire, so it should keep you until you fall asleep. There’s a feather comforter on the bed. It’ll keep the heat in.”

  The logs flamed high from behind the iron grate. Suddenly, I was so tired I could scarcely keep my eyes open. I doubted I’d be awake long enough to see the fire die. “I’m not sure I wouldn’t sleep like the dead out there in the snow.”

  A look of alarm crossed over her features so quickly I wasn’t sure I’d truly seen it. “Is there anything else I can do before I go?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Merry gave a little curtsy and left the room.

  The moment she was gone, I wished she’d return.

  A lantern on the bedside table and the fire shed a dim light. Still, the corners of the room were dark, and I was in an unfamiliar place all alone. I’d never slept in a house where my sister or mother was not near. I sat on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath into my aching chest. Homesickness really did make one feel ill. It was a terrible emptiness that couldn’t be filled with anything or anyone but the people I loved. What were my sister and mother doing now? Had they already gone to bed? Had the bitter Boston weather crept into Mother’s bones and made her tired body hurt in addition to her breathing problems? Was Annabelle keeping up with her schoolwork without me there to nudge her in the right direction?

  I willed myself over to the dresser and looked into the mirror. There were no ghosts here. Nothing could harm me. I stared at myself. My hair was askew and the smudges under my eyes were dark as coal. What Lord Barnes had thought of me, I could only guess.

  My hat. I’d forgotten my hat in the sleigh. It would most likely be ruined, and what would I wear into town and to work?

  I put that thought aside to figure out tomorrow. There was a bath waiting. I opened the door with trepidation, half expecting one of the children to be in there despite Merry’s assurances. To my relief, the room was empty, and a deep, claw-foot tub held more steaming water than I’d ever seen in my life. I undressed, peeling my dress off my tired body and then loosening my corset and tossing it onto a shelf. The bathroom was mostly white, with round tiles on the floor. I looked at my bare torso in the mirror above the sink. If anything, I was skinnier than before I left. My collarbones stuck out, and my face was more skin on bone than flesh. Lizzie was right. I needed fattening up. I had a feeling she was the one to do it.

  I lowered into the tub and let out a little sigh of pleasure. The temperature was just right. On a small table next to the tub, bottles of various soaps were lined up in a row. With a washing cloth Merry had left and a brown slab of soap, I lathered up my skin.

  When my skin had pinkened from scrubbing, I let my hair down from its stack. The golden strands reached the middle of my back and tickled my sensitive skin. With my fingertips, I touched the bump on my head. The egg had not gone down in size but hadn’t grown, either. I used the liquid soap from a glass bottle labeled “shampoo” that smelled of lavender and washed my hair and scalp, then rinsed in the water.

  Only exhaustion and yearning for a bed kept me from staying longer in the bath. After I lifted the plug to let the water run out, I used a towel to dry myself as best I could. Then I sprinted back into the bedroom, locking the bathroom door behind me. Shivering, I slipped my flannel nightgown over my head and pulled on the wool socks my sister had knitted as a gift before I left home.

  Merry had set my brush on the dresser. I combed my hair, gently at first to untangle the inevitable knots and avoiding the bump. While I did my one hundred strokes, I blinked at myself in the mirror. I was no worse for wear, really. A little old bump on the head wouldn’t keep me down for long. My father always said I was born tough. Small but mighty.

  Bluster aside, I didn’t feel particularly mighty just then. In fact, the opposite might be a better description.

  The fire was dying down. A chill as sharp as a knife sliced through me. Clamping my teeth shut to keep them from chattering, I turned slowly around the room. Besides the bed, dresser, and wardrobe, there was also a small desk between two windows. The two windows reflected the firelight, giving no hint of the dark night. Was it still snowing? I grabbed the lantern and crept to the window. Holding the light near the glass, I watched the flakes of snow tumble from the sky. The vastness of this strange place might swallow me whole.

  I tiptoed across the hardwood floor to the edge of the rug, then, careful not to trip, set the lantern on the bedside table. Throwing back the thick down comforter, I inspected the sheets. There were no spiders. For some reason, I thought Colorado might have a lot of spiders. Didn’t a lot of trees mean a lot of spiders? I’d ask Merry about that in the morning.

  I blew out the lantern and hurled myself into bed. The sheets were cold on my bare calves. I rolled onto my side and brought my knees up to my chest. With the comforter tucked under my chin, I stared into the dying embers.

  Without the soothing sounds of my sister’s breathing next to me, the darkness crept closer. We’d slept together in our small bed in the closet of a room, and I missed her warmth. I missed her. Annabelle with her flaming red hair and petulant mouth and dancing eyes. My sister could make me laugh harder than anyone in the world. I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer for strength.

  Chapter 4


  Alexander

  * * *

  After Miss Cooper left for bed, I remained in the library, strangely comforted by the movements of my new houseguest in the room above me. It would be a lie to say the unexpected visitor had not lifted my spirits. Since my wife’s death, life had been easier for me and the children. The days and months were predictable without the ups and downs of Ida’s mental illness.

  In the three years since her death, I hadn’t contemplated having a woman in my life ever again. For some, perhaps, one terrible marriage was enough. The nightmare of living with Ida in the last five years of our marriage had made me cautious. Women were not always what they appeared to be. There was darkness hidden in some. Darkness that no amount of love could squelch. I’d tried.

  Lately, though, I’d thought more and more about finding someone with whom to grow old and gray. However, the idea of a woman was a concept not born from reality. No one had piqued my interest. Alas, there were no women to choose from here in Emerson Pass. Most single women were the kind who charged for their attention and probably carried various diseases. Not exactly the sort I’d bring home to my children. Some men paid for brides to make the journey west, promising marriage in exchange for a warm home and enough to eat. These women were desperate, having lost husbands or fathers who could support them. Much like Miss Cooper, I supposed. Hiring a teacher, however, was different from ordering a bride. How could a man be sure of what he was getting, having corresponded only through letters? For that matter, I’d thought Miss Cooper was an old maid. When she appeared, young and beautiful, I was quite taken aback.

  Was I mistaken that there was a spark between us? Or was I simply a lonely man taken in by her beauty? Anyway, she probably would think me too old for her and that I had way too many children.

  “May I have a word with you?” Jasper asked from the doorway. I hadn’t heard him enter the room, so absorbed with thoughts of Miss Cooper.

  “Yes, yes. Have a seat. Pour yourself a drink.”