The Christmas Eve Daughter - A Time Travel Novel: The Sequel to The Christmas Eve Letter

by Elyse Douglas

  Irene sat at one end of a magnificent oak table, covered by a white linen tablecloth and a bouquet of fresh flowers. She was scanning the morning paper and sipping coffee from a bone china teacup. She arose when Eve entered.

  “Oh, there you are, Eve. I’ve been waiting for you. I do hope you rested yesterday and are feeling well today.”

  “Yes, thank you. I’m feeling much better.”

  “How utterly charming you look in that dress. I am so happy to see that we are indeed the same size, aren’t we, just like real sisters?”

  “It’s so generous of you to share your wardrobe with me.”

  “Think nothing of it. Please sit down next to me here.” Irene patted the chair to her right. “I have so many things I want to discuss with you. Oh, are you hungry? I’m afraid we are having an informal breakfast this morning. Mummy is having breakfast in her room. On the sideboard, you’ll find fruit, ham, bacon and eggs with muffins and butter. And the coffee urn is brimming with fresh coffee.”

  Charles stood by, waiting for Eve’s order.

  After Eve was seated and began to eat, Irene turned to her with enthusiasm. “Now, first of all, I have made some plans for us. I hope you will agree with them.”

  “What are your plans?” Eve asked, bracing herself.

  “Have you thought… Well, no, that’s not the right word, is it? Have you had any further thoughts about where your husband might be?”

  Eve looked down at her scrambled eggs. “Yes, I have. I simply don’t know.”

  Irene jerked a nod. “All right then. I believe, quite firmly, that we should contact the police.”

  “Oh, no. No, Irene.”

  “Well, do you think they could help find him? I mean to say, well, your husband could have become injured or run into ruffians. He may be in grave danger.”

  “No… I mean…He’s a big man. He can take care of himself.”

  Eve laid her fork aside, paused and then reached for her coffee cup. She had anticipated that Irene, who was very precocious and curious, would ask the question. Eve had formulated the answer. Better tell part of the truth than all lie. Isn’t that what Patrick had told her?

  “Irene, my husband and I had a kind of argument. As a result, he left me. I don’t know where he went.”

  Irene’s face fell into sadness, although Eve saw a glint of excitement in the woman’s eyes. Eve suspected Irene loved adventure and intrigue.

  “I am so sorry, Eve. So very sorry. Well, we shall have to find him, won’t we?” And then, as an afterthought, Irene stopped, considering an idea.

  “Or maybe not. Do you still have feelings for him, or is that too personal a question? Mummy and Addison would say so, but I believe that you and I can be open and honest with each other.”

  Eve hid her dubious expression. The last thing she could be with this woman was open and honest.

  “I love my husband very much, Irene.”

  Irene straightened her shoulders. “Well then, it is settled. We shall have to search for him. You will stay here with us while we do our investigations, and this will be our base of operations. From here, we will launch forth and begin our search. Now, where do you think we should begin?”

  Eve sat back in the chair, lowering her voice so that Charles couldn’t hear. Eve wondered how these people could be so candid and bold, when a butler or servant could hear every word they said.

  “Irene…You have been so good and generous to me, but I can’t stay here. I must move on.”

  Irene’s eyes searched Eve’s face. “But where will you go? In the park yesterday, you said you had nowhere to go and no money to pay for lodgings. Was that a lie?”

  “No, it was not a lie. This morning, after I’d slept, my mind cleared. I realized that I have a piece of jewelry that I can sell. From that, I’ll be able to stay in a boarding house or a hotel.”

  Irene sat back and crossed her arms tightly across her chest. She stared at Eve with a new suspicion.

  “Eve, you are not telling me the truth. I feel it so keenly. You are holding something back, and I don’t know why. Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  “No, no…”

  “Well, then, where are you from, Eve? Do you live here in the City? Are you from out of town? Why were you sitting on that bench alone, confused and shivering, wearing that old coat and dress from, I don’t know, thirty years ago? I have been honest and forthright with you, Eve. I have offered you our home and given you clothes from my own wardrobe, something I have never done before, with any woman.”

  Eve felt trapped. Her face grew hot.

  Irene was waiting, tapping her foot.

  Eve decided to deflect the questions. She decided to appeal to Irene’s sense of rebelliousness and need for adventure. She decided to begin asking the questions. Go on the offensive, Patrick also said.

  “Do you know who Maggie Lott Gantly is?” Eve asked.

  Irene blinked. Her lips lost some of their firm determination. She stared at Eve with a new interest.

  “I know of her. Why do you ask?”

  “Have you ever seen her perform?”

  “I may have. Why?”

  “I would like to meet her.”

  Eve saw the barest hint of a smile form on Irene’s pink lips. “And you think I would know that kind of woman? An actress, who is kept by a man, but not married to him? I have heard that she has been seen with many men, at least until this last one. Do you think I would know such a woman?”

  “I don’t know. Do you?”

  The corners of Irene’s mouth lifted. “I read the newspapers, Eve, something I’m told that women have no business doing. What for, the men like to say? You know what else I read? The newspaper Votes for Women. Maggie Lott Gantly gave an interview in that newspaper only a few months ago.”

  Eve inclined her head forward. “What did she say?”

  “What else? She said that women should have the right to vote. She said that women are every bit the match for a man in all things. She said, it was all right to have a man and a relationship with one, but women should also have their own lives, just like men have theirs. She said, men have their own money and so should women. Men have mistresses…”

  Irene paused, lowering her voice to a near whisper, considering her words carefully. “Maggie Lott Gantly said that women may choose to have other men acquaintances.”

  Irene waited for Eve to respond. She didn’t, so Irene continued.

  “And do you know what I did after I read that article? I went to the theatre to see Maggie Lott Gantly.”

  Eve stared into Irene’s kittenish face. Eve could see a ripe rebellious spirit in this young woman.

  “I went in secret, of course, because my Mummy and Addison would have been struck with apoplexy if they knew.”

  Eve decided to pry. “And did you go alone?”

  Irene dropped her eyes and scratched at the linen tablecloth with a polished fingernail. “Maybe I did, and maybe I didn’t. If you can have secrets, Eve, surely I can have mine.”

  Eve nodded. “So, did you meet Miss Gantly?”

  Irene adjusted herself in her chair, looking up above the fireplace, toward the massive oil painting of an 18th-century man dressed in a red hunting jacket, white breeches, and glossy black boots, comfortably seated astride a magnificent white horse.

  She lowered her voice again to a conspiratorial whisper. “Some months ago, I went to the Garrick Theatre to see Maggie Lott Gantly star in the play Girl on a Swing, with William Walker, who played her sweetheart in a most thrilling manner. Anyway, after the performance, I went backstage to meet Miss Gantly, to tell her how happy I was that she supported the woman’s suffrage movement.”

  Eve stared, eagerly. “So, you met her? What happened?”

  Irene turned darkly serious. “In person, I found Miss Gantly to be quite dreamy and confused, Eve. Her eyes were vacant, her speech wandering. I was astonished how well she had performed on stage, while in the flesh, backstage, she was obviously under the t
errible influence of narcotics, or alcohol, or both. I had never before seen the dramatic and frightening effect these stimulants can have on a person. And just as I was about to ask if she needed any assistance, a brute of a man cruelly seized her arm and yanked her away. He looked at me with such venomous eyes, and then made a rude and crude remark. It really disturbed me. The man I was with was startled as well, and…”

  Irene stopped abruptly, having said more than she had intended to.

  “You were with a man?” Eve asked, intrigued.

  Irene shifted in her chair. “Well, never mind about that.”

  Irene leveled her eyes on Eve again, trying once more to take control of the conversation. “So, who are you, Eve? And why do you want to see Maggie Lott Gantly? Is she related to you? Your husband’s sister perhaps? A cousin?”

  Again, Eve felt she had trapped herself. She produced a sweet, worried smile. “I am sure you are aware of how complicated and difficult family members can sometimes be, Irene. I am involved in many family struggles at this time, and I am not at liberty to speak about them.”

  This had the result Eve had hoped for. Irene’s face first melted into instant compassion, and then into a righteous resolve.

  “Well, don’t you have a care, Eve. Whatever difficulties and obstacles you are currently facing, we can surmount them together and, with a good steely resolve, we will conquer them. And yes, I know about family complications and difficulty. Addison is a constant source of disappointment and irritation to me. I know that he gambles, cavorts with women in shadowy places and drinks copious amounts of whiskey, while boldly and stiffly denying his every misdemeanor. I fear he will be the ruin of our family. So, not to worry, my new friend, Eve. I understand your plight, and we will stand firmly together, shoulder to shoulder.”

  Eve could see it was going to be a challenge breaking away from this young woman. She had all the grit, determination and courage of a hungry lioness.

  “I don’t want to involve you in my personal problems, Irene. That wouldn’t be fair.”

  “Poppycock, Eve. I will be your champion.”

  Eve almost burst out laughing at the expression “Poppycock,” but she didn’t. She also struggled not to show distress. Instead, she looked at Irene with a smile. “You are so kind, Irene. But now I must travel downtown to sell my ring.”

  Before Irene could jump in, Eve said, with a timid hope, “Will you accompany me?”

  Irene shot up. “Of course, Eve, but I must protest at your selling any of your jewelry. It’s absolutely crass and unthinkable.”

  Eve had to stand up to this strong woman. “I must do it. And I’m going to do it.”

  Irene lifted an eyebrow. “Well, if you are that determined, then I suppose you must. All right then, let me find a proper coat and hat for you and we will be away. You stay here, and I will return in a jiffy.”

  After Irene swept out of the room, Eve remained alone, with Charles standing by, his eyes staring ahead, his expression bland.

  A few minutes later, as Eve was draining the last of her coffee, Charles drifted over. Eve looked up at him with a pleasant smile, expecting the butler to ask if she needed anything. Instead, he cleared his throat and said, “Pardon me, Mrs. Gantly.”

  She watched as he retrieved a sealed note-sized envelope from his inside coat pocket and placed it on a silver tray. He presented it to her, with an enigmatic smile.

  “What is this?” Eve asked.

  Her full name was written on the face of it in a florid style: Mrs. Evelyn Gantly.

  “I was instructed to present this to you, madam.”

  Eve stared at it. “Instructed by whom?”

  The strained smile remained on Charles’ lips, but he said nothing.

  Reluctantly, Eve took it. Charles immediately backed away.

  “Do you require anything else, Mrs. Gantly?”

  Eve glanced up, distracted. “…No, Charles. Thank you.”

  He retreated from the room.

  Alone now, Eve ran a finger under the flap and opened it. With a quick breath and an impossible hope that the note might be from Patrick, she drew out the note, shook it and began to read. Immediately, her heart sank.

  My Dear Mrs. Gantly:

  Perhaps you will not think this too bold or improper of me? I pray that the following will not, in any way, diminish me in your lovely eyes.

  Will you do me the honor of having lunch with me on your next convenient day? I would very much enjoy the opportunity of getting to know you better. Additionally, I understand that you are currently involved in some personal and financial difficulties. Allow me to put forth the fortunate fact that I am both a respected man of business, as well as a man of means, who can offer you support in many ways and at many levels. You simply have to ask, and I will be your grateful and humble servant.

  I would only ask that, whatever your decision in this rather delicate circumstance, you keep this note and the above invitation secret and only between the two of us, so that it is not misunderstood or misconstrued by others.

  Rest assured that Charles is available, at all times, to attend to your reply in this matter.

  With respect and warm regards, and with anxious anticipation, I am your waiting servant,

  Addison Reed Casterbury

  CHAPTER 12

  They traveled downtown in the Casterbury’s luxurious blue limousine, which boasted of class and smelled of expensive leather. William, the stern chauffer, was sitting erected and alert, dressed in a dark suit and smart black cloth hat with a vinyl bill.

  As they approached 42nd Street, they sputtered past a tangle of wagons and cars, where adults and kids were swarming a curb, craning their necks, gawking at something that neither Eve nor Irene could see.

  “It reminds me of the terrible day in April 1912 when we learned the Titanic sank,” Irene said. “There were crowds of anxious people everywhere. Though Mummy forbade it, I had William drive me downtown to the White Star Line at the line’s Bowling Green Office. We had friends on that ship, and I had to know what happened to them. Do you know, Eve, that Mummy and I had contemplated traveling to England with the intent of booking passage on the Titanic’s maiden voyage? I shiver at the thought. If Mummy had not come down with a bad cough, we would have boarded the Titanic and probably perished, along with so many other poor souls.”

  Eve was only half listening. Her thoughts were swirling around the daring and flirtatious note that Addison had sent her. Once alone in the breakfast room, she had torn the thing up and tossed it into the fireplace. As the fire spat and popped, she had watched the pieces curl, turn brown and burst into flames. She could only hope that that would be the end of it, and she’d never have to see Addison again.

  They left the limo on Nassau Street to travel on foot. The area was teeming with pushcarts, food vendors, bootblacks, crowds of people, and the earthy smells of horse manure and car exhaust. There were countless pawn dealer shops, jewelry stores, rag dealers and novelty shops.

  Irene walked nervously, afraid to touch or brush against anyone or anything. She was obviously put off by the pulsing energy, the aggressive people, and the crass materiality.

  Eve’s eyes were alive to the world around her, fascinated by the look and feel of the place, especially by the groups swimming about with animated hands and talk. Brownstones and large federal buildings rose up, with zigzagging fire escapes and American flags snapping in the wind.

  Eve decided to take charge. She saw an attractive storefront below a brownstone with the sign West’s Jewelers above the doorway. It was a good place to start.

  Eve led the way forward, with a complaining and haughty Irene behind.

  “I don’t like this area, Eve. It is not a decent place for women to be. Look how these men look at us. It’s positively disgusting. Wall Street is filled with beastly men searching for loose women.”

  “Don’t look at them,” Eve said, pushing through a green door and entering the dimly lighted space. Several male heads lif
ted, some with surprise, some with curiosity and some with pleasure.

  It was a long narrow room with a few tables in the center, and display cases and shelves along the walls. All the glass cases were crammed with jewelry of all kinds, some elaborate and expensive, some cheap or exotic.

  Irene’s eyes widened as she took in the spectacle, her near expert jewelry eye zeroing in on diamonds, emeralds, gold bands and pearl necklaces.

  Eve swiftly scanned the faces of the men: two were young, one was middle-aged, and the one who stood behind a glass case was probably in his early sixties. He was a small man, dressed all in black, wearing a yamaka, a long gray beard, and wire-rimmed spectacles. Eve was taken by his dark, warm, intelligent eyes and gentle smile. She went to him.

  “Good morning,” Eve said.

  “Yes, a good morning, madam. May I help you?”

  His accent was slight, his voice soft.

  Eve reached into her purse and produced the ring, holding it up. “I want to sell this. Have I come to the right place?”

  Irene slid in next to Eve, feeling an imperious need to take over. Eve took a step forward to take charge, as the other men looked on with keen and amused interest.

  “Of course you have come to the right place, madam,” the merchant said. He indicated with a shaky hand. “Please, let us step this way and I will have a closer look at the lovely ring.”

  Eve and Irene followed the merchant to a glass countertop, where he shambled behind it—obviously, his official office.

  He smiled graciously. “May I examine the ring, madam?”

  Eve gave a weak smile and handed it over.

  The merchant’s eyes twinkled with interest as he took the ring and held it up into the light. He nodded, his expression now serious, as he gave the ring a first appraisal. As he leaned in for a closer look, an eyebrow lifted. Eve wondered what that meant.