"I know what you're thinking, but—"
"I don't think you do, Fayth." It was almost as if he spoke to himself. He teetered on the brink of denying her. She saw it in his face.
"She's not as hard and jaded as the other girls, Captain. She's . . . salvageable."
"Salvageable?" He laughed softly. "Like a ship?"
"Redeemable, then. Please, give her a chance. She wants one. She needs one. She's led a tragic life." Fayth scanned his face for some kind of hope. "Her father abused her. She ran away to escape and ended up with Lou. Please, we can't disappoint her."
He stood there, silent, stoic. When he spoke, his words were wooden. "I'm not a hard-hearted man. I wouldn't ask you to send her back to that life, but neither can I permit a prostitute to live with us without voicing my disapproval." He sighed, his expression distant.
"As much as I admire your determination to save her, your good intentions on her behalf, I have to warn you—there is no escape from that life, Fayth. It drags down all who touch it; taints them. I would hate to see your reputation suffer because of it."
At his warning, a shiver slid down Fayth's back. Somehow she felt he spoke of more than her situation. Most likely, it was only her suspicious mind, but she felt he warned himself as well as her.
"But our house is your home as well as mine," he continued, "and so you have every right to have a guest. As for your business, if you want to hire her, I can't stop you. It is your business, and I agreed long ago not to meddle in it." His gaze rested on her. "I leave the choice to you."
"I can't turn her out," Fayth said.
The Captain looked resigned, as if he expected her answer. "As soon as she has recovered, she has to leave. If we have to help her find somewhere to go, we will."
As strongly as pride at his honor and kindness overwhelmed her, she felt his disappointment. It was almost as if he thought she had manufactured a houseguest to keep a distance between them. She hadn't, of course, but guilt crept over her. Coral did provide a barrier, and Fayth was glad for it. "We’ll find her a place of her own once she gets established."
He nodded and the unspoken question hung in the air—was this the only reason she had met him?
She took his arm. "I wanted you to know before you got home. But of course, that's not the only reason I'm here." Her flattery went past him. Her nerves rendered her inept at flirtation. He remained distant. She forced a smile. "You should see the shop. The progress they've made the last week is astounding!"
The momentary flicker of hope in his eyes died as quickly as it had come and long before Fayth had time to be certain that it had been there at all.
Chapter 11
The girl waited for them, held the door wide open, smiled tentatively at Con when they arrived at the house. Con was relieved that at first glance she didn't look familiar. If he didn't remember her, maybe she didn't him. Con was about to set down the duffel he carried when she spoke.
"Welcome home, sir."
He straightened, recognizing her voice, and examined her closely. She was the youngest of Lou's girls. In that awkward moment, her return look warned him not to mention it. An ally?
Without aid of the harsh makeup Lou's girls usually applied, she was nearly unrecognizable. Except for the healing green-yellow bruises around her eye, she looked like any passably pretty sixteen-year-old. When she stood aside for them to pass, she moved gingerly, as if her side were tender. Probably had a few bruised ribs. Con suddenly had the urge to beat the man who had beaten her. What kind of coward abused women?
Aware that Fayth watched him closely, he allowed his indignation to show, smiled and greeted the girl, introduced himself. She responded politely in a voice devoid of recognition. Now that he looked closer, he was truly astounded at the difference in her from when he had last seen her at Lou's. She wore a new dress, obviously one of Fayth's, and her hair was done in a simple, unpretentious bun. She looked wholesome.
He smiled at his wife. Thankfully, she seemed unaware the two knew each other. His thoughts were momentarily diverted. Man alive, Fayth was beautiful. She was all he had thought about since leaving. Her feminine curves, her radiant smile, the soft slope of her shoulders . . .
And then there she'd been, waiting for him, but not for the reason he hoped. Had Fayth missed him at all? He felt Fayth watching him. Her gaze stalked him the way Olive hunted mice. Had Coral said something to her? Coral's presence made things damned awkward. He had to talk to her.
Fayth took his arm and led him to the kitchen. "Welcome home!"
A three-layer cake sat in the middle of the table surrounded by plates and forks, and freshly cut flowers.
"Let's have refreshments," Fayth said. "I'll cut." Fayth hurried to the counter for a knife.
"If you ladies don't mind, I'll unload the carriage while you set up. Where do I—"
"You still have your room." Fayth answered a little too quickly.
Hell, he had hoped he had a chance at sharing her bed. "You ladies share?"
"No, Coral is in the guestroom."
"What guestroom? You mean your sewing room? Where is your machine?"
Fayth smiled. "In the dining room. We never eat there."
"We certainly won't now." Coral laughed in a girlish, tinkling way.
"I guess we won't. Why miss what we never used?" He laughed in ironic response. Yes, why miss it. His thoughts were not on the dining room, but Fayth. He looked to the girl, with her infectious good humor. "Cut me a big slice of cake. I'll be back in a minute."
Fayth caught him in the hall, her expression a question.
"Until she's healed," he said.
She smiled and turned, leaving him in the hall.
That evening, Con sat in the kitchen with Olive tucked in his lap, watching as Coral busied herself preparing the evening meal. Fayth hadn't returned from town. He needed to speak with Coral, get things settled.
"You can hear Olive purring clear over here," Coral said. "How'd you get her to warm up to you? She hates men."
Con smiled. "Cats have a sixth sense. They know a warm heart when they meet one."
"Do they?"
Her manner was stiff, almost accusing. "When am I going to get you to warm up to me?" His voice held no innuendo.
"What do you mean, Captain?"
"Everyone, my crew excepted, calls me Con."
"Fayth doesn't."
"No, but you don't operate by her set of rules. I realize she calls me by my title to keep distance between us. It won't prevent the inevitable."
Coral stopped peeling carrots long enough to turn and look at him. "The inevitable?"
He winked at her. "I think you know what I mean."
"Fayth has a kind and susceptible heart. Unfortunately, it's bruised." Coral turned back and began slicing the carrots.
"Don't I know it. She's told me about her former fiancé. He left it to me to build her trust in men back up; at least that's the way I see it. And I intend to succeed."
Coral dropped the knife in the pan and turned to face him again. "Do you? Then what the hell were you doing at Lou's?"
The venom in her voice surprised him.
"Brave girl. Bring the issue right to a head, no mincing around. Now that it's out, think we can resolve it?"
She acted as if she wasn't listening. "Damn carrots! I hate cooking! What does it matter, anyway? You'll be sending me back to the house, and I'll be damned glad of it—at least Lou has a cook!" She strode toward the door.
"Where do you think you're going?" His commanding voice stopped her halfway. "I'm not sending you anywhere. Didn't I just ask if we could resolve this?"
When she looked at him her eyes were thin and narrow.
"I knew you recognized me. Why'd you warn me off?" If she wouldn't speak, he would.
"I won't see Fayth hurt."
The girl knew how to glare. He turned a serious look back on her. "What makes you think I’ll hurt her?"
"Men usually go to Lou's for one reason. Having a husb
and who gets his pleasures at Lou's would kill Fayth. She believes in being faithful. Why should I believe you're the exception?"
"Not that I need to explain myself to you, but I've never patronized the girls. As for my reasons, I feel no need to divulge them to a young thing like you."
Her chin shot out straight.
"Did you ever see me go to a room with one of the girls?"
Her jaw relaxed. Uncertainty crept into her expression.
"The inner dealings of the city are conducted at Lou's, and Lou is often privy to them. The astute man knows where to make contacts. I was there on business."
She watched him closely, measuring him for the truth.
"I feel responsible. If Fayth gets hurt again . . . she isn't strong that way." She stepped back into the kitchen.
"Why are you responsible?" He gave her the look he reserved for disciplining the crew. She crumbled.
"I'm the one who told her you never went to Lou's. And you didn't, not until you were already married."
"So you're her source. You knew about her crazy marriage of convenience scheme?"
The girl nodded.
Olive scooted up Con's chest until she was tucked under his chin. "Coral, why do you think I married Fayth?"
The girl just stood there, staring at him.
He tried again. "Think about what she had to offer me. What would I want from her? Her money? Her business? I had everything but her."
A smile crept over her face.
He'd almost convinced her. "Why would I throw away my chance with Fayth for a moment of pleasure at Lou's, for an evening at most?"
"Captain, you are a romantic!"
He didn't answer, just smiled. "Have you told Fayth about my visits?"
"No."
He exhaled a long breath, both relieved and puzzled. What did Fayth suspect him of?
"Good. I'll tell her in my own time. For now, you and I need to come to an agreement. I don't like secrets, but I have my reasons for this one. Promise me you won't mention that you've seen me at Lou's? Won't mention what I said about marrying Fayth?"
"And I stay?"
"Until you recover."
"What if I don't agree, tell her everything?"
"I deny it just as adamantly. It's my word against yours."
She edged another step back into the room. "It doesn't bother you to have a whore living with you?"
He sighed. "It hasn't bothered me having a gutter child for a cabin boy. Or any assortment of crewmen that brawl, drink, and gamble. Or a business manager with sticky fingers. Why should a whore bother me, as long as she isn't practicing?"
Her girlish laughter filled the room. "You have yourself a deal, Con."
The back door swung open and Fayth steamed in. She held her sleeve away from her arm with two fingers, her nose wrinkled in disgust.
"Hello, both of you. Don't say anything to me until I've changed. I was spat on as I came out of the shop and I'm warning you, I'm in no mood for snickering." She marched past them toward her bedroom, emerging minutes later wearing a clean shirtwaist, carrying the soiled one.
"I'll be lucky if this tobacco juice comes out. This is the third incident this week alone. I was even carrying my umbrella and it got me!" She walked to the sink and submerged the shirtwaist. "I'm one spitting away from walking into Lou Gramm's in broad daylight, wrenching our esteemed councilmen's free drinks out of their inept hands, and pouring them over their heads!" She scrubbed at the stain with renewed vigor. "Or at the very least demanding recompense for my damages. If they don't figure out a way to cover the sidewalks; well, I tell you, I'm tempted."
Con still lounged at the table with Olive in his lap. Coral had joined him and was sipping a glass of water.
"Figuring out how to light them seems to be holding up the operation," Con said. Olive jumped off his lap and ambled away. "Why don't you organize the ladies and get some action, Fayth? The destitute from the fire have about all been helped. The women need another cause to keep them busy. Why not suggest one that benefits you?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. He held his hands out in mock defense. "I'm not insulting them. They're a powerful force in this town and when they get riled about something—"
"The last time they got riled about something the men didn't like it and got the Territorial Governor to repeal their power to vote."
Con ignored her. "You get them organized and when the issue comes to a vote I'll do my duty as your husband and vote for covered sidewalks. But now's the time to use your clout. Your colorful gowns are all the rage, and your resilience well-known. The downtown merchants will back you."
"I don't have time."
"You would take the time if you thought you'd lose customers to shops whose clients don't suffer the same indignities."
"Wonderful, another adversity to overcome."
"Yes," Con said. "But this time you're not alone."
Coral didn't get many visits from her colleagues at Lou's parlor house. Lou Gramm herself visited on relatively few occasions. Therefore, Fayth was naturally surprised, and dismayed, when Mabel came calling two days after the Captain's return. If Coral hadn't answered the door and invited her into the parlor, Fayth would have turned her away. Instead, Fayth poured tea for Coral and her guest.
"Coral, look at you. Living the life of a respectable woman, who would have thought?" Mabel said.
"Sugar?" Fayth poised, ready to intervene at any intimation by Mabel of Coral going back to Lou's.
"You must come back to work soon, Coral," Mabel said. "I'm earning five dollars a day now."
"Five dollars! Liar!" Coral said.
"Cream or milk?" Fayth hovered with the cream pitcher, studying Coral's reaction to Mabel's suggestion.
"No, thank you," the two girls said in unison, then laughed.
"We still think alike, Coral. I miss you at the house. The other girls all give themselves airs because they're older and more experienced."
"It's just jealousy, Mabel, you know that. Experience doesn't compensate for their youth and beauty fading away. They all know they're one step closer to the cribs."
Mabel smiled again. "It doesn't make it any easier. As for me, with the money I'm making, I don't plan on falling that low. Mrs. O'Neill will still be slaving over her machine when I've long since retired."
"If you live that long," Fayth mumbled.
"Pardon?" Mabel asked.
"Tea too hot? Shall I add a little cool water?"
"No, thank you." Mabel eyed her suspiciously, but Fayth only smiled sweetly.
"You can't be making that much money." Coral sounded suspicious. "Don't try to fool me. I know what an average girl's take is."
"But we are! You should come back."
Fayth watched Coral pale at the suggestion. She hadn't been the same since she'd been beaten up. Fear was the last thread keeping her at Fayth's, stopping her from backsliding into prostitution.
Mabel sipped her tea. "Since we've moved into the new house business is booming. You should see our new quarters. We've got brand new brass beds and gold gilded mirrors overhead."
Fayth did not like the turn of the conversation and cleared her throat loudly to dissuade Mabel from detailing the immoral decor. Mabel smiled back. "The genteel atmosphere appeals to many of our leading male citizens."
"Really?" Fayth's tone was at best deprecating.
"Really. I would name names, but Mrs. O'Neill would be shocked. Too bad keeping our clients' confidentiality is part of the business." She turned to Coral. "It isn't just the older generation that comes to us. Many of the gentlemen send their sons in—for an education in the sexual arts. A young man should know how to please his future wife. I don't think their mamas know, or would approve, but the gentlemen are much more open-minded."
Fayth glared at Mabel. "Probably because they're the ones benefiting from an establishment like Lou's. They're the ones being unfaithful to their wives and sweethearts. Maybe their mothers would be more open-minded if they had an equiva
lent to Lou's. How do you suppose their husbands would feel about that? It's so easy for the sinner to plead liberality. As for the men, why not lead one's own son down the path to immorality? It ensures that his progeny will feel no superiority to him."
"Fayth!" Coral said.
Mabel ignored their exchange. "So you see, Coral, we've got many handsome young men coming. Come back and catch one."
"She will not. Coral will make the honorable choice and be my assistant. Women should be able to support themselves in an honest manner. It saves having to marry poorly simply because one needs a man to survive.
"Coral stands a better chance of meeting a suitable gentleman in her current occupation."
"I'm surprised at your narrow attitude, Mrs. O'Neill. Considering how frequently your own husband is seen at Lou's, one would think that you don't object to men seeking entertainment at our house."
Fayth froze, anger and fear making her stomach churn. "That's a blatant lie, Mabel. Tell another that slanders my husband's character and I'll show you out."
Mabel shrugged. "Go ahead and throw me out for telling the truth. I know what I see and I've seen him at Lou's with my own eyes."
"There's no reason you aren't both right. There are lots of reasons to visit Lou's these days." Coral eyed Fayth warily. "Everyone conducts business at the house. While I was there, I never saw him with any girls."
Fayth was grateful for her loyalty, but what did Coral know that Fayth didn't?
"Captain O'Neill does not visit the girls," Fayth said flatly.
Mabel smiled. "You seem to know your husband, Mrs. O'Neill. He does not visit the girls. He visits Lou. High honor indeed to visit the madam herself, though most of the boys like them younger."
"If the Captain goes for an occasional drink there with his manager Mr. Tetch, it's not for this wife to censure." Fayth hoped her bluff didn't show. Her stomach clenched with the new knowledge that the Captain went to Lou's. After the whore on the ship, what else could she expect? He and Lou were somehow connected.
"Oh, he comes for drinks, but he always has a private meeting with Miss Gramm. I don't know many other men who do, but maybe you're privy to your husband's private affairs and know more of what goes on than I do." Mabel laughed.
The Last Honest Seamstress Page 19
