City of Secrets

by Victoria Thompson

  What surprised her the most, however, was that Mrs. Honesdale was older than she’d realized at first. Now that she had the leisure to study the woman in decent light, she realized Mrs. Honesdale was much closer to forty than thirty, which was surprising because Reverend Honesdale surely was much younger.

  “Would you care for tea?” Mrs. Honesdale asked. “I have some lovely ladyfingers, too.” She rang without waiting for their reply.

  “I’m taking Elizabeth around to meet people in our church,” Mrs. Bates said. “She’s seriously considering joining, you see.”

  “How nice,” Mrs. Honesdale said, although she didn’t seem to think it nice at all.

  “I think it’s important to find a church as soon as possible after moving to a new place,” Elizabeth said quickly, before Mrs. Honesdale could ask what church she belonged to now.

  “It certainly is. You never know when you’ll need the support only a church family can provide.”

  “Mrs. Knight told me how supportive everyone was when her husband died. Or perhaps I should say ‘husbands,’ since she lost two of them.”

  Mrs. Honesdale shook her head. “A very sad situation. I hope she felt that we provided all the comfort she needed during that difficult time.”

  “I’m sure she does,” Mrs. Bates said.

  “Are you and Miss Miles related?” Mrs. Honesdale asked Mrs. Bates.

  “No, we aren’t.”

  “Why do you ask?” Elizabeth said.

  “I was just wondering why Mrs. Bates has taken such an interest in you.” Mrs. Honesdale smiled to soften her words, but Elizabeth wasn’t fooled. She was dying of curiosity.

  “Miss Miles and I met when I was demonstrating for women’s suffrage in Washington City in November.”

  “Oh my, and were you imprisoned as well, Miss Miles?” Mrs. Honesdale seemed amused for some reason.

  “Yes, I was.” Elizabeth instinctively touched the pin she’d chosen to wear today.

  “I could hardly credit it when I heard Mrs. Bates had been arrested. I had no idea demonstrating for women’s rights was illegal.”

  “Our demonstrations were not illegal,” Mrs. Bates said with just the slightest trace of annoyance. “They charged us with obstructing traffic, which we weren’t doing, but the president was tired of seeing us every day, so any excuse would do.”

  “Don’t you support women’s suffrage, Mrs. Honesdale?” Elizabeth asked.

  Mrs. Honesdale smiled what she probably intended to be a kind smile. Elizabeth recognized the effort she put into it because she’d done the very same thing many times. A smile could say any number of things, and Elizabeth had practiced her variations in front of a mirror until the average observer couldn’t tell she was acting. Mrs. Honesdale could use a bit more practice.

  “I believe a woman’s place is in the home. The scripture is very clear about that.”

  “Can’t a woman take care of her family and still vote?” Elizabeth asked with wide-eyed innocence she knew looked genuine enough to fool Mrs. Honesdale and probably even Mrs. Bates.

  “Why would a woman want to soil herself with the dirt of politics? A woman’s duty is to keep herself pure and make her home a refuge from the pollution of the outside world where her husband can restore himself.”

  That sounded awfully boring to Elizabeth, but she said, “I don’t have a husband and neither does Mrs. Bates.”

  “If you did, he would probably forbid you from putting yourself in a situation where you ended up in jail, Miss Miles. That would be his Christian duty.”

  Would it? She’d have to make sure Gideon didn’t feel it was his Christian duty to keep her chained to the kitchen stove once they were married. She glanced at Mrs. Bates and was amused to see her pressing her lips tightly together as if holding back a scathing reply, which she would probably consider rude to make to her minister’s wife. Elizabeth felt sorry for her having to use so much restraint. “Hopefully, women won’t have to put themselves in that sort of situation anymore. Did you know the House of Representatives passed the Women’s Suffrage Amendment yesterday?”

  Mrs. Honesdale actually winced a bit. “I’m afraid I don’t read the newspapers, or at least I only read the society section.”

  Was she really so ignorant? Although Elizabeth had to admit she hadn’t used to pay much attention to the workings of government, either. Meanwhile, she’d already counted at least two ways in which Mrs. Honesdale had violated Mrs. Ordway’s rules of etiquette. She decided it was time to violate one or two herself.

  “I understand you’re fairly new to the church as well, Mrs. Honesdale, and to the city, too. Where is your home?”

  “I . . . A small town in Maryland. You would never have heard of it.”

  So small it probably didn’t even exist. “How did you meet your husband, then?”

  “Friends. Mutual friends introduced us.” Her expression was still undisturbed, but Elizabeth noticed her hands had grown a bit restless.

  “It must have been difficult to court from so far away.”

  Her smile was a little crooked this time. “We wrote a lot of heartfelt letters.”

  “Your family must miss you.”

  “I . . . I don’t have any family left, I’m afraid.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Bates said quickly, before Elizabeth could break another rule by asking another question instead of expressing sympathy. Elizabeth was quite offended, since she knew perfectly well that expressing sympathy was the correct response. She managed not to sigh.

  “I’ve been blessed by finding the Honesdale family. I would feel selfish wishing for more.”

  “Is it a large family?” Elizabeth asked. “Does Reverend Honesdale have brothers and sisters?”

  “No, unfortunately my husband is an only child, but his parents have treated me like the daughter they never had.”

  “Cousins, then? Sometimes they can be as close as siblings.”

  Mrs. Honesdale’s smile was noticeably strained now. “No cousins that I know of.”

  Or none she wanted to claim.

  Mrs. Honesdale was rescued by the maid, who brought in the tea tray. Mrs. Honesdale served them tea and ladyfingers. She admitted she had gotten them from a bakery, since a minister couldn’t afford a cook.

  “Do you find New York much different from Baltimore?” Elizabeth asked when they’d had an opportunity to enjoy their refreshments.

  “I . . . New York is like no other place on earth, or so I’m told.”

  Which didn’t answer the question but did answer another of Elizabeth’s. “I hope you like it, though.”

  “It can be overwhelming at times. Do you like it?”

  “Very much. It’s so very different from South Dakota.” She didn’t dare glance at Mrs. Bates, and she would point out later that she hadn’t actually claimed to be from there. She had to be from somewhere, though, since she’d led Mrs. Honesdale to believe she’d recently arrived. “I’m fortunate that Mrs. Bates has taken me under her wing, because she has given me the opportunity to learn so much about the city.”

  “And are you planning to stay? Since you are thinking about joining the church, I mean.”

  “I’m thinking New York is where I belong, and I believe Mrs. Bates agrees.” She would have to tell Gideon how good she was getting at misleading people without really lying. She’d never realized it was a skill she’d need.

  “Yes, I do think she belongs here,” Mrs. Bates said. “Elizabeth is the daughter I never had.” Mrs. Bates gave her such a loving look that Elizabeth almost lost her composure. But Mrs. Bates was probably just saying that to explain her interest in Elizabeth’s spiritual well-being.

  “Mrs. Bates is very kind,” Elizabeth said. “I’m so fortunate to have been jailed with her.” Did Mrs. Honesdale wince just a bit? Elizabeth hoped so. “Did you know Mrs. Knight had pl
anned to travel to Washington City with Mrs. Bates to demonstrate, too, but she couldn’t go because her husband died?”

  “I think she may have mentioned it,” Mrs. Honesdale said a little grudgingly.

  “I’m surprised Mr. Knight would have allowed it,” Elizabeth said, “if what you say is true about it being a man’s Christian duty to keep his wife at home. Wasn’t Mr. Knight an elder in the church?”

  “Yes, he was, but I can’t speak for him. I don’t know his views.”

  “So he may have disagreed with you? Or with Reverend Honesdale, I mean, since he’s the one who decides what you can and cannot do.”

  This time her annoyance was unmistakable if subtle. “A woman must submit to her husband’s will.” But Mrs. Honesdale didn’t have to like it, and apparently she didn’t. How interesting. “And speaking of husbands, you mentioned that you are unmarried, Miss Miles. What does your family think of a single female being off on her own?”

  “Like you, I have no family to speak of.” Elizabeth usually made a point of not speaking about them. “But I’m hardly on my own. Mrs. Bates is looking after me quite well.”

  “I’m sure she is, but I meant your trip to Washington City to, uh, demonstrate. I’m sure my family would never have permitted me to do such a thing.”

  Since she claimed to have no family, how could she be sure? But Mrs. Ordway would say it was rude to ask that. “I can’t speak for your family, but mine always encouraged independence.”

  “Did they? But independence can be difficult for a female to achieve without resources, can’t it?”

  Aha! Elizabeth would have to alter her opinion of Mrs. Honesdale. She was even more clever than Elizabeth had given her credit for being. Mrs. Honesdale had just opened a door for Elizabeth, so she decided to walk through to see where it led. “Yes, it can, but I’m extremely fortunate to have resources.”

  “How lucky you are. Too many young women who are orphaned find themselves destitute and at the mercy of circumstances.”

  By which they all knew she meant “at the mercy of men.” The circumstances of which Mrs. Honesdale spoke often forced women to sell the only thing of value they possessed: themselves. “I hope you don’t speak from experience,” Elizabeth said, schooling her expression to innocent concern.

  Mrs. Honesdale’s answering smile was sweetly tragic. “I did have to make my own way in the world until I married Mr. Honesdale.”

  “And now you have a loving husband and a beautiful home.”

  “I hope you are as fortunate as I someday,” Mrs. Honesdale said in a tone she must imagine made her sound wise. “But a young woman with resources who is as lovely as you are should have no trouble at all attracting a husband.”

  “And you think that should be my life’s goal?”

  “Most young women would consider it so, but perhaps suffragettes are a different breed.”

  “Suffragists.”

  “What?” Mrs. Honesdale asked, confused.

  “We call ourselves suffragists. The term ‘suffragette’ is demeaning.”

  Mrs. Bates had had enough of their sparring. “It’s a common mistake. I’m sure Mrs. Honesdale meant no offense.”

  “Of course I didn’t. I had no idea. The newspapers—”

  “Are always determined to give offense,” Elizabeth said. “You can certainly be excused for not knowing.”

  “I apologize. But I am curious. Do suffragists not aspire to marriage?”

  Elizabeth thought of Anna. “Not all of us do, just as not all women who aspire to marriage will achieve their goal. That’s why we believe women need equal rights, so they can earn a decent living on their own if they remain single.”

  “I see.” She didn’t seem happy about it, though.

  “Surely, you can sympathize. You said yourself that you had to make your own way before you married.”

  “Yes, but that is not God’s plan.”

  “God should have made all females rich and beautiful, then, so men would be clamoring to marry every one of them,” Elizabeth said, not daring to glance at Mrs. Bates, who she thought must be nearly choking on her embarrassment at Elizabeth’s boldness. “How did you earn your living, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Plainly, she did, but she said, “I turned my home into a boardinghouse.”

  “Oh my,” Mrs. Bates said before Elizabeth could express an opinion. “That must be very hard work.”

  “It was, of course, but I only catered to young ladies, and they weren’t any trouble at all.”

  “Unless they couldn’t earn enough to pay their rent,” Elizabeth offered.

  “I must admit, that was sometimes a problem,” Mrs. Honesdale said grudgingly. Because women only earned a pittance compared to men.

  “I suppose that explains why you were so concerned about Mrs. Knight when her first husband died,” Elizabeth said.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t . . .” Mrs. Honesdale said, obviously confused.

  “When you heard her first husband had left her penniless, I mean,” Elizabeth explained. “So you encouraged her to remarry quickly.”

  “Oh yes, well, I couldn’t bear to see Mrs. Knight reduced to . . .” She gestured vaguely.

  “Operating a boardinghouse?” Elizabeth said helpfully.

  “Not that there’s any shame in it,” Mrs. Bates added hastily. “It’s a perfectly respectable way to make a living.”

  “But there was no reason Mrs. Knight had to do any such thing,” Mrs. Honesdale said, having regained her composure.

  “Not when she could simply marry herself off to another man who could support her,” Elizabeth said.

  Mrs. Honesdale obviously took offense at that. “I’m sure Mrs. Knight was very fond of Mr. Knight and took great comfort in knowing her daughters would be provided for.”

  Elizabeth pretended to consider that for a moment. “And yet, Mrs. Knight told us that her first husband, Mr. Jenks, had left her very well provided for and she didn’t have to remarry at all.”

  “Really? How odd,” Mrs. Honesdale said.

  “What do you consider odd?”

  Mrs. Honesdale blinked a few times, and Elizabeth figured she was scrambling for an answer. “That I . . . We were sure . . . I mean, we’d heard . . . Reverend Honesdale and I, that is . . .”

  “That Mrs. Knight was penniless?”

  “Perhaps not penniless, but in reduced circumstances.”

  “And who told you this?”

  “I . . . I don’t remember.”

  “Could you try to remember? It’s very important,” Elizabeth said.

  “I can’t think why it would be. In any case, I believe it was general knowledge.”

  “But someone had to start the rumor, and since it wasn’t true . . .” Elizabeth shrugged.

  “You probably think, as a minister’s wife, I shouldn’t listen to gossip, and I assure you, I do not do so by choice, but sometimes . . . Well, people don’t often speak about their own needs, so we must rely on others to keep us informed. Mr. Honesdale and I always want to be of service whenever we can, and if gossip is the only way we can learn of people’s needs, then it is a necessary evil.”

  “And of course you never spread gossip yourself,” Mrs. Bates said loyally.

  “Not knowingly, and this is the first I have heard about Mr. Jenks. I’m very glad he didn’t leave his family destitute.”

  “If you had known, would you still have encouraged Priscilla to marry Mr. Knight so soon after Mr. Jenks died?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t take credit for that. Mr. Honesdale and I suggested Mr. Knight call on her. We were hoping, naturally, but we hardly encouraged a romance between them.”

  Which was a very different story than Priscilla had told.

  “And are you sure you don’t remember who told you Priscilla was in reduced circumstan
ces?” Elizabeth said.

  “I’m sorry, but no. It was so long ago, and . . .”

  . . . and that person probably didn’t even exist, because if Mrs. Honesdale would lie about her role in getting Priscilla and Endicott Knight married, she’d lie about everything.

  Elizabeth could think of only one reason for the minister’s wife to lie at all.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “I’M SORRY IF I EMBARRASSED YOU,” ELIZABETH SAID TO MRS. Bates as they walked home from their visit.

  “I wasn’t embarrassed, although I have to admit I was a bit shocked at the way you interrogated Mrs. Honesdale.”

  “Interrogated? Oh dear, I hope I wasn’t that aggressive.”

  Mrs. Bates smiled kindly. “Let’s just say I don’t think Mrs. Ordway would have been pleased.”

  “You’re right. She definitely does not approve of disagreements during social calls.”

  “Which is why I was surprised that Mrs. Honesdale expressed her disapproval of the suffrage movement quite so ardently.”

  “I was surprised, too. Mrs. Ordway is quite firm on the subject. Do you suppose . . . ?”

  “Do I suppose what, my dear?”

  Elizabeth feigned dismay. “I wouldn’t want to be guilty of gossip, of course, but . . .”

  Mrs. Bates chuckled and shook her head. “Out with it!”

  “All right, but first let me ask you something. Did you need to read Mrs. Ordway’s book or something like it to learn all the rules of society?”

  “Heavens, no. I’ve been going on calls ever since I was a girl, and one simply learns how to behave. My mother instructed me, too, of course.”