“Wasn’t Miss Sutton worried that Caulfield would know she was Miss Atherton’s cousin if you introduced her to him?”
“She said she doubted Grace talked about her, or if she did, if Willie would remember her name. I must say, from the little contact I’ve had with Willie Caulfield, he does seem a singularly self-absorbed young man. I’ve met him at least three or four times when I was with Grace, and he clearly didn’t have an inkling we’d ever met.”
Seth laughed and said, “Oh, I can see that he and Ned Goodwin will be the best of friends.”
“You know, for Celia’s sake, you really need to stop making such unkind comments about Ned. I know he can be spoiled and he certainly doesn’t take his education seriously enough. But I believe he has a good heart, and he does seem to be in love with Celia.”
Laura was tired of feeling like she had to defend Ned all the time. Seth’s grey eyes seemed to darken, then she felt him let out a deep breath.
“I’m sorry, Laura. You’re right. I’ve no call to cast aspersions at any man, and the last thing I would want to do is hurt Miss Beale. With her mother’s death, she’s had enough heartache. If Ned Goodwin lifts her spirits, then who am I to say anything to the contrary?”
Laura patted his arm, reflecting that Seth Timmons was the one with the good heart. “I suppose Willie Caulfield, at one time, also lifted Grace’s spirits. Otherwise, why would she have agreed to marry him? On the other hand, maybe his rather vacuous exterior hides some sort of violent nature. Maybe if Grace was the one to jilt him, he flew at her in a jealous rage, and that’s why she went home to Nebraska.”
“Good heavens, Laura, where did you get that idea?”
“I know, I sound like a dime novel. But Caro said that when she helped undress Grace the night she arrived home, she saw the signs of old scrapes on her hands and numerous bruises on her upper arms.”
“And she thinks that Caulfield might be responsible?”
Laura heard the outrage in Seth’s voice and had a brief glimpse of the anger that she knew he worked so hard to keep hidden. “To be honest, she doesn’t know what to think. But she said Grace being assaulted by the man she once loved would explain Grace’s breakdown better than romantic disappointment or studying too hard.”
“So how does she intend to find out the truth? Go and ask Caulfield?”
“Of course not. Or at least not until she has gathered more information. And that’s where I can really be of help, particularly now that we know Willie and Ned are friends. I can ask Ned questions without raising any suspicions. Once I mention that Grace Atherton was my friend, Ned won’t find it strange if I ask him about the young woman from the Mills Female Academy. You know how Ned loves to gossip.”
“Laura, busy as you are, do you honestly think aiding Miss Sutton is a good use of your time?”
Laura knew that tone of voice. She’d spent a lifetime, it seemed, hearing her father and her two brothers questioning her decisions.
Why insist on learning to ride astride and rope a calf when she was never going to be permitted to go on a fall round up? Why go to the state normal school for three years when she could just take the teaching certificate exam that would let her teach in a one-room school? Why go to San Francisco, where half her wages would go to paying room and board? Why go to the university when she’d found a perfectly good job as a typesetter that would support her until she married?
She glared at Seth until he made a placating gesture and said, “All right, I get it. It’s none of my business how you spend your time. But I thought the reason Miss Sutton was here was supposed to be a big secret. Are you planning on telling Celia or Kitty?”
“Oh no, that would place Celia in a terrible position…keeping information from Ned.”
“What about me? Did you get Miss Sutton’s permission to tell me everything?”
Laura felt her cheeks warm. “No, I didn’t, Seth Timmons. But I know you won’t spill the beans, given that you are the most close-mouthed person I’ve ever met. Anyway, you are my best friend, and if I can’t talk to you, I’ll be tempted to go to Annie, something I don’t want to do because she’s already feeling overwhelmed by all the things she needs to get done before the baby comes.”
An hour later, as Seth left the boarding house with Laura’s brother, he felt relieved that Nate Dawson had asked if he would like to walk with him to the Eddy Street Livery Stables, where Nate was going to rent a carriage to take Annie out for a drive. Laura had just suggested they should move over to the study across the hall to wait for the others, something he didn’t want to do.
Innocent that Laura was, she had no notion what it did to him when she sat next to him, even in public. When they were private, and she would lean against him to point out a passage in a book or throw her head back in laughter, it took all his will-power not to gather her in his arms and devour her slender neck with kisses. This past fall there were too many times he found himself alone with her, too many times he felt his will-power slipping.
It hadn’t helped that they’d gotten in the habit of meeting for dinner in town on Saturdays. She got off her job at five and his night shift at a nearby printers started at six, so they had time for a quick meal together. Then most Sundays he’d accepted Mrs. Dawson’s open invitation to come to the mid-day dinner, because, frankly, who in their right mind would choose the food produced by his boarding house cook over Mrs. O’Rourke’s meals? While the good weather held out, he’d been able to suggest sitting in the back garden until her friends showed up. This put them under the watchful eye of Mrs. O’Rourke and Kathleen in the kitchen. But that alternative stopped being practical by mid-October.
That’s why he’d decided when this term started that he would cut back on the cozy Saturday dinners at Hank’s Restaurant and skip most of Mrs. O’Rourke’s Sunday meals. All he’d have to do is lose control once, and their close friendship would be over. He couldn’t risk it, risk the best thing that had ever happened to him. They would still see each other every day on the way to school, but not in private.
As they turned off O’Farrell, Nate looked over at Seth and said, “Look here, Timmons, I would really appreciate it if you could look out for my sister this term. My wife has enough to do without worrying about Laura, and Annie seems to think she’s taken up investigating some mystery…something about a university friend she’s made…and her sick cousin. Didn’t make much sense to me. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
“Yes, she did tell me about this Miss Sutton,” Seth said.
“It’s not that I want you to spy on Laura or anything. Would just be a relief not to have to worry she’d gotten herself into difficulties without anyone being aware of what was going on.”
Seth nodded in what he hoped was a non-committal manner.
Laura will skin me alive if she thinks I’m telling tales to her brother.
“My uncle Frank seems to have taken a shine to you, Timmons. Says you’re good company at the breakfast table. He also wanted me to broach something with you, which is the other reason I asked you to come with me to the stables.”
It took Seth a moment to understand what Nate was saying. He stammered, “Good company? I don’t believe we’ve said two words to each other, beyond pass the salt and pepper.”
“Yes, that sounds exactly like what Uncle Frank would see as good company. However, he said those times that Mitchell makes it to breakfast, he quite enjoys listening to the two of you argue about the political events of the day. Said it was clear you actually read the articles in the newspapers…didn’t just print them. Also said you seemed to have an extraordinarily retentive memory. Could quote things verbatim.”
When Nate Dawson married this summer and moved out of his boarding house on Vallejo Street that he occupied with his uncle Frank, Seth had moved in to Nate’s former room up in the attic. The room was too small for him to stand upright in, the boarding house cook was a disaster, the poor maid slovenly, but the house was only a few blocks north of hi
s job, which made the change worth it. Also, he already knew and liked Nate’s friend Mitchell, a medical student, who lived there as well.
“Don’t know why it is, but all I need to do is read something once and it comes back to me, like a picture in my mind,” Seth said. “Probably the only way I’m making it through the university while working. Cuts down on the time it takes to prepare for recitations and exams.”
“Well, Uncle Frank wondered if you might want to make a little extra money on Saturdays. I understand you work the night shift those days. Our two clerks are having trouble keeping up and we could use a man who is good with detail to do some filing, maybe even some record searches.”
“Sir, I’d be grateful for the work.”
Seth wondered if Nate’s uncle suspected he’d been thinking about a possible legal career. Had been ever since he started taking Latin this fall with the young instructor, William Carey Jones. The man had been studying for the California bar and spent a good deal of time talking about the roots of modern jurisprudence in Roman and English common law. Damned interesting. He’d not even mentioned this new fascination to Laura. Especially not to Laura, who had her own dreams of becoming a lawyer and would probably get all wrapped up in some fantasy of them becoming law partners.
“Forget the ‘sir’ stuff when it’s just the two of us, and call me Nate, won’t you? Besides the fact that Laura says you’re actually two years my elder, marriage and impending fatherhood are making me feel ancient enough already. Now, I don’t know that we’d be able to pay you as much per hour as you’re making as a printer.”
“That’s all right, sir…Nate. Truth is, I would like the chance to see how a law office works…first hand. Just between you and me, I’ve been thinking about maybe applying to Hastings Law College in the fall. I don’t really want to spend the rest of my life working a printing press, and I don’t see myself becoming a college professor, public school principal, or preacher, which seem to be the main reasons to continue to pursue a classical degree at the university.”
“Leaves the law as one of the few viable alternatives, doesn’t it? I came to a similar decision as I was finishing up my degree at Western Reserve College. I’m afraid you will be seeing the most boring part of the job, but perhaps that’s good, if you are seriously thinking about pursuing this profession. I worry that Laura’s idea of being a lawyer is all fiery theatrics in the courtroom.”
“Speaking of your sister, any chance that you could keep this between us…for now?”
“Working in our office or the idea you might be going to Hastings?”
“Maybe both. I’m afraid if she learns I’m working for you, she’ll…”
“Not stop pestering you…and me…to see if there is more to it than simply offering you a way to earn extra cash.”
Seth, feeling guilty, nodded. But Nate was right, and he didn’t know how she would react if she learned he might not return to Berkeley next year––go to the law school, which was located over here in San Francisco. She’d probably understand. She knew how out of place he felt on the Berkeley campus. More than ten years older than most of the other students, he didn’t even feel much affinity with any of them. He was hoping he’d feel differently at Hastings, which was part of the university. From what his instructor Jones said, most of the men studying law were a little older and more serious about their studies.
Stopping in front of the open gate that led to the large Eddy Street stables, Nate said, “You don’t mind waiting with the horses when we get back to the house, do you, while I run in and get Annie? If I know her, she’ll still be down in the kitchen, helping out. My wife seems to think that her experience working as a real domestic for a couple weeks means she should put on an apron whenever there is some crisis in the house.”
“Mrs. Dawson worked as a maid?” Seth said, then quickly apologized for his reaction.
Nate laughed. “Yes, hard to imagine my elegant Annie scrubbing floors. It’s a long story, but it happened on the case that brought us together. Sometimes I worry that now she’s given up her work as the clairvoyant, Madam Sibyl, she’ll miss the old days of pretending to be someone else. That’s why I’m glad you’re going to keep an eye on Laura. My sister, like my wife, seems to thrive on meddling in other people’s lives…all to the good, of course. Nevertheless, I really would like the next months to be as uneventful as possible. Preparing for the birth of my first child is going to be exciting enough.”
“If it’s any reassurance, your sister specifically said she didn’t want to worry your wife. And from what Laura has told me, I think she, and the woman she is helping, Miss Sutton, will soon discover there really isn’t any mystery to investigate.”
Chapter 9
Friday morning, January 14, 1881
Berkeley
“North Hall…There the President sits in state; there the faculty gather on Wednesday afternoons to evolve in secret and in mystery the decrees often inscrutable in their wisdom.” 1886 Blue and Gold Yearbook
“Good morning, Miss Sutton. I would like to introduce you to Mr. Timmons.”
The tall handsome student who stood beside Laura reminded Caro forcibly of the men who drove longhorns up from Texas to the railheads in Nebraska. Even without the old Stetson he’d been wearing, she would have pegged him as someone who once upon a time spent most of his days outdoors, riding a horse, squinting those dark-grey eyes into the sun. A thick black mustache nearly hid the slight smile he made as he gave her a firm handshake.
When he murmured his polite, “Pleased to meet you,” she thought his slight Midwestern accent hid some sort of amusement. Most likely he was the man her cousin had referred to in one of her letters as “Laura’s friend,” and she believed he was a skilled printer who was studying classics, of all things. Definitely a man…not a boy…unlike most of the students she’d encountered here, so far.
He said something to Laura about getting a seat before he left them to take the steps up to the entrance of North Hall.
Looking at his retreating back, Laura said, “He has an aversion to sitting anywhere but the back row, next to the door. And since all the freshmen have to take Sanders’ class on Fridays, you will have noticed these seats fill up quickly.”
Caro’s original plan, when she thought she would be joining Grace, was to take advanced classes in chemistry and German, which would be helpful when she did start medical school. Now, on the slim chance that academic difficulties had played a role in her cousin’s breakdown, Caro decided she wanted to attend classes from professors who Grace had in the fall, so that she would have an excuse to meet with them and see if they had any reactions when she mentioned her cousin’s name.
On the other hand, she didn’t want to spend too much time in classes that weren’t really going to do her any good, since she already had her bachelor’s degree. Hence her decision to sign up for Professor Theodore Sanders’ series of freshmen lectures, which were only on Fridays. For a similar reason, she’d signed up for Albin Putzker’s beginning German class, deciding not to take the second half of the advanced class Grace had been taking with him, so that the course work wouldn’t be too time consuming. Finally, she’d signed up to take the comparative zoology class, with Joseph LeConte, and Professor Moses’ political economy class. She had had both classes at University of Nebraska, but they were also the classes that almost all the junior class took, so they were the best place for her to try and find out if any of Grace’s classmates knew what sent her home.
Five classes would keep her busy, but her sincere hope was that it would only take a few weeks, a month at most, to figure out what happened to Grace. She would then return to Nebraska. She certainly had no stomach for staying here any longer than need be if her cousin wasn’t here with her. She felt guilty enough leaving the farm, worried that Grace might feel she had somehow abandoned her.
Laura interrupted this thought, saying, “I was surprised you signed up for Sanders’ lectures, although he is considered one of th
e most lively speakers among the professors.”
“I couldn’t help but notice Grace wrote a good deal more about this Sanders than any of her other professors. Made me curious to see what all the fuss was about. She was also taking his Anglo-Saxon grammar class this past fall. Do you think there is a possibility she might have confided in him if there was something that was bothering her?”
“That’s possible. I believe his prior teaching experience had been in a girls’ high school in Ohio. He has a reputation of being particularly supportive of his female students.”
As another group of noisy male students pushed past them, Caro asked, “Should we be heading to the classroom as well, to get seats?”
“We have fifteen minutes, so we don’t have to hurry. Sanders lectures in the largest classroom in North Hall, and the first two rows are reserved for female students. There are only eleven women in the freshmen class; as a result, there are plenty of seats for us. But if we go now, I can introduce you to my friends, Kitty and Celia. They are both taking classics with Seth Timmons, which is why they aren’t in Putzker’s German class with us. Those of us in the literary division of the college have to take both French and German. I gather Grace started with French her first two years?”
“Yes, she did. She seemed to enjoy it. I think she had an instructor named Proctor.”
As they made their way towards North Hall, Laura said, “Have you heard anything about how Grace is doing this week? Is her health improving?”
“The last letter said that she is eating and sleeping better. However, I fear this is only because the doctor has prescribed a sleeping draught, probably diluted laudanum.”
Scholarly Pursuits Page 6
