“You’d rather my uncle had died?”
They straggled back to work. Annie slipped the note in a pocket.
Maude sidled close. “What’s it really say?”
“Just what I said.” She flipped a hand, shooing her away. “You’re as bad as the others.” Then she had a thought. “How do I send a response?”
“There’s a telegraph office down the street. You just stop in, write it up, and pay.”
“How much?”
“Not much. But you’re charged by the word, so be brief. What do you want to say?”
Annie shook her head. “I’m just asking.”
Annie desperately wanted to reread the telegram but made herself wait a half hour before she went to the ladies’ and the privacy of a stall. Only then did she open the envelope a second time.
EUROPE LOVELY. OFFER STANDS. HAPPY NEW YEAR. MRS. S.
Lately Annie hadn’t thought much about Mrs. Sampson’s offer. Yet to know that it still stood added to her elation.
Mrs. Sampson is in Europe. I’m going to Europe. What if we could meet?
Annie fished a stub of a pencil from her pocket and wrote on the back of the envelope.
COMING TO PARIS MID-MARCH. FASHION SHOWS. TALK THEN?
She read it over, hoping to make it shorter, but there were no words to cut.
There were also no words to convey all she was feeling. Yet there were three she had to express: Thank You, God!
After work Annie couldn’t wait outside for Sean but instead met him at the stairwell, grabbing his arm.
“Well, hello.”
“I have exciting news,” she whispered as they headed outside.
They joined Maude. “She’s been bursting at the seams all day.”
Annie pulled him out of the stream of pedestrians, and Maude followed. Annie bounced on her toes. “I’m going to Paris in mid-March, to the fashion shows!”
His face brightened, and he lifted her off the ground and spun her around. “How did it happen? Who asked you to go?”
She told him the story of the magazines, Mrs. Downs, and Madame LeFleur. “They said there was another woman who usually goes, but she’s having a child and—”
Sean looked at Maude. “Mrs. Brown?”
Maude nodded. “She’s due around then. You’re still going for your sales trip, aren’t you, Sean?”
“I believe I’m going the first of March because I need to go to Berlin, London, and Vienna as well as Paris, but I’m sure I can arrange to meet up with you, and perhaps take the same ship home.” He held Annie’s chin and kissed her once. “We can see Paris together.”
They began to walk again. “It’s like a dream.”
“That it is,” Sean said. “A dream come true.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
You’re what?”
Iris blushed. “I’m expecting. A baby.”
Annie drew her into an embrace. “I’m so happy for you.” She pushed her at arm’s length and took a discreet look at her abdomen. She did not look pregnant. “When are you due?”
“In the fall. October.”
Edna put an arm around Iris. “Plenty of time for Annie and I to sew up a proper layette.”
The blast of the ocean liner’s horn deafened them. “I think that means it’s time to board.” Annie looked toward her travel party. Madame LeFleur was instructing some porters as to their luggage.
Annie hugged Edna and Iris. “Take care of yourselves—and the baby.”
“Have a marvelous time,” Edna said.
“You will see Sean?” Iris asked.
“He’s already been in Europe two weeks but will join us in Paris a few days after we arrive.” She saw Maude motioning her over. “I have to go. Good-bye.”
“Bon voyage,” Edna said.
Annie rushed to join the others. With a shake of her head, Madame turned toward the gangway. “Come girls, faites-vite! Plus vite!”
As the girls scurried after Madame, Maude handed Annie two enormous hatboxes, keeping two for herself. “Madame doesn’t trust porters with her beloved chapeaux.”
By the way Madame strode onto the ship, one would have thought she was a queen. The ship’s attendants snapped to and gave her the attention she demanded.
“Do they know her?” Annie asked Maude.
“They know her type.”
“But she’s not wealthy.”
“Madame acts as if she deserves deference, so she gets it.”
A crewman walked alongside Madame, leading her to her stateroom. The men at the top of the gangway merely nodded to Annie and Maude. No one asked to take the hatboxes.
The two girls followed Madame and her guide up some stairs and then into a lush corridor. Annie was impressed that Butterick was letting them travel first-class.
The man opened a paneled walnut door. “For you, Madame LeFleur.”
Madame perused the room with a glance to the en suite bath and water closet area.
“Does it meet your approval, madame?” he asked.
“I believe it suits.” To Maude and Annie she said, “Go get settled. We shall meet later.”
The hatboxes were relinquished and the girls left the room. “I just realized that I half expected her to ask me to do her unpacking,” Annie whispered.
“You are not her maid.”
“Last time I was on a ship, I was a maid.” It seemed a lifetime ago, when she was a different Annie.
Maude looked at the papers that noted their cabin assignments then strode down the corridor and made a turn toward the center stairs. She descended the stairs.
“We’re not on this level?”
Maude spoke over her shoulder. “You are not a maid, but neither are you first-class. We have second-class accommodations.”
Annie couldn’t help but be disappointed, yet when she saw the room they would share she was pleased. “It’s much better than the third-class room I had before.”
Maude plopped on the bed to the right of the porthole then removed hat pins securing her hat and tossed it on the low dresser in between. “Relax now. There will be plenty of commotion once we depart.”
Annie couldn’t remember any commotion from her trip over other than serving Miss Henrietta and her ladyship. “How do we spend our time on the voyage?”
“Eating, napping, reading, and strolling around the decks. Do you play cards?”
“No. The footmen used to play Whist, but I was never invited to join them.”
“I’ll teach you Pitch. But I warn you, I will win. I always win.”
They stood at the railing and waved good-bye to those on the pier. Annie scanned the crowd for Edna and Iris but couldn’t see them. The ship slowly moved away from the harbor.
Will my life be different when I return?
Passengers gradually left the rail and began their promenade of the decks. Annie turned her back on the sea. “Now what?”
Maude laughed. “You need to be entertained already?”
“I am used to having something to do. I am used to schedules.”
Maude pointed to a long row of deck chairs. “Sit.”
Annie sat in one chair, and Maude sat next to her. They nodded at people walking by.
“You need to learn to put your feet up,” Maude said, moving her feet to the chaise.
“It’s not something I get to do very often.”
“Suit yourself.” Maude leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
Annie tried to do the same. The sun was warm and the sea breeze refreshing.
But then she sat upright with a startling realization. “I have never had leisure time! I have always worked.”
“Everyone works, Annie. Even the wealthy have to work to make their money.”
“But they have leisure time.”
“More than us, that’s for certain.” Maude shielded her eyes from the sun. “You’ve never explained how you left servanthood behind.”
“I ran away.”
“Without telling them?”
>
“That’s how running away works.” Annie’s past seemed like the skyline of the city, moving further and further away.
“You mentioned you’d run away but I didn’t think you meant it so literally.”
Annie told Maude about Lady Newley, the Friesens, Iris, and Danny.
At the mention of his name, a familiar lump formed in her throat. “Danny was killed by a footman named Grasston who worked at the Friesens’. He claimed I got him fired and was stalking me for months. He even attacked me.”
“Meaning …?”
“He tackled me to the ground and was on top of me, and …” She shuddered at the memory. “Some passersby saved me.”
Maude hesitated. It seemed an odd reaction. But then she said, “How horrible for you.”
“My pain was nothing compared to … Grasston killed Danny to hurt me. Danny died because of me.”
Maude’s feet found the deck, and she faced Annie. “Why don’t I know any of this?”
“It’s over now. Last December at Iris’s wedding, the police were in the midst of arresting Grasston when he jumped off a roof and died rather than be arrested.” She leaned back and closed her eyes.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
“So am I.” The stories she’d just shared about Iris and Danny came back to her, and with the stories came a conclusion. “Iris is where she should be—married and expecting a child. Perhaps I am where I should be.”
Maude sat back in the lounger. “You’re on a ship heading for Europe and the fashion shows in Paris. I’ll take that over being married and having babies.”
Annie glanced at her. “You don’t want that?”
Maude shrugged. “Do you?”
The question loomed large, filling the expanse of sky and sea. “I like the idea of marriage, but the babies … I want to have a career. I just got started. I don’t want it to end too soon.”
“Then wait. Sean will wait for you.”
“He hasn’t asked yet.” I haven’t let him ask.
“Perhaps he doesn’t want to ask until he knows you’ll say yes.”
“Perhaps.” She thought back to her visit with Sean’s mother. “His mother told me—almost warned me—to take my time in regard to marriage. She had dreams, too, but once she was married she had to give them up.”
“I am determined not to give up my dreams for anyone.” She put a hand on Annie’s arm. “So … are you with me?”
It was a complicated issue. Annie loved Sean, but she also loved her work. All she could do was shrug.
Maude slapped the arm of her chair. “Enough of this serious talk. We’re here to rest and relax. You are too tightly wound, Annie Wood.”
She couldn’t deny it.
They walked out of the second-class dining room, and Annie put a hand to her stomach. “That was delicious. But far too much.”
“And we can have as much as we want.”
“Ugh,” Annie said, feeling overly full. “It was like putting butter on bacon.”
Maude laughed. “Let’s go into the game room and see if we can gather two more for a card game.”
“I told you I don’t play.”
“And I told you I’d teach you.”
The girls found a deck of cards in the game room where others were playing billiards, checkers, and chess. Maude began shuffling the deck.
“It appears you’ve done this before.”
“A few times.” Maude looked around the room and raised a hand. “We need two more for Pitch.”
Annie was a bit embarrassed when two young men came over. She couldn’t imagine hawking for partners like Maude had done.
“Pitch, you say?” said the man with a dark black mustache.
“Ten-point. Women against men.”
“You’re on,” the blond man said.
“I … I don’t know how to play,” Annie said.
“All the better,” the first man said. He held out his hand and made introductions. “I am William and this is Stanley.”
“Maude and Annie,” Maude said, as she began to deal the cards.
“Fifty-two!” Maude exclaimed. “We won!”
Stanley threw down his cards. “You two got the ace and the three nearly every time.”
“You got the two a lot,” Annie said.
“Small consolation,” William said. “Let’s play another.”
Annie looked at the clock on the wall. It was nearly midnight. “I think not, gentlemen. I’m quite done in.” As she pushed back her chair, Stanley rushed to pull it out for her.
“Until tomorrow, then?” he asked. “At two?”
“We’ll see.”
They bade the men good night and made their way back to their cabin. Only when they were inside, with the door shut and locked, did Annie feel the full measure of her weariness. “I had no idea it was so late.”
“Time flies when you are having fun.”
Annie sat on her bed and began to unlace her shoes. “It was fun. More fun than I’ve had in a long while.”
“Stanley is interested in you.”
“I know,” Annie said, removing her shoes and enjoying the freedom. “I don’t want him to be. I mentioned ‘my beau.’ I mentioned meeting Sean in Paris.”
Once Maude’s shoes were off she rolled down her stockings. “That doesn’t matter to some men.”
There was a slight edge to her voice. “William was nice to you.”
“No, you don’t,” Maude said, setting her shoes near the wardrobe. “I do not want male attention. Ever.”
Annie was shocked by this. “Whyever not? You’re at ease with them, you’re witty and pretty and—”
“I’m not saying I can’t get their attention. I don’t want their attention.” She stopped all movement and kept her back to Annie. Her voice became soft. “I can’t have their attention.”
Something was wrong. Annie went to her and touched her shoulder. “Will you explain what you mean?”
They stood together like that for a full ten seconds. Annie heard Maude’s breathing hasten.
“Maude?”
Maude turned around, gave Annie a glance, and then pointed to the beds. “Let’s sit.”
Annie took a seat on her bed, while Maude sat on hers, her head down, her arms crossed like a protective shield. What had the power to quash the vivacious, unflappable Maude?
Annie waited, wanting yet not wanting to hear what Maude had to say.
Finally, Maude drew in a deep breath. “Two years ago I was assaulted.” It took another breath to get out the rest: “I was raped.”
Annie gasped and stood to go to her, but Maude waved her back. “I was walking alone at night, not paying attention to my surroundings, when a man grabbed me, pulled me into an alley, beat me, and …” She shrugged. “He left me for dead. I thought I was dead. I wanted to die.”
“Oh, Maude.” Annie found herself at a loss for meaningful words. “I’m so sorry.”
Maude lifted her gaze to the porthole. “I remember lying there, my cheek against the dirt of the alley, with the pain so intense that I wished for death to give me release. I opened the eye that wasn’t swollen shut and saw a rat coming toward me, sniffing at me. Only the idea of him gnawing at my skin got me to move. Somehow I stood up and staggered to the street, where someone helped me.”
Annie remembered Grasston’s assault, and imagining what it could have been made her shudder. “I can see why that would put you off men.”
Maude looked at her, shaking her head vehemently. “It’s not that—though it certainly was at first. I was afraid of all men, but that eventually faded. It’s not that I don’t like men, or trust them, or even that I don’t want one in my life, it’s that … I can’t ever marry.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t have children. I was … damaged.”
Annie put the pieces together. “You don’t want to encourage a man because he might want to marry you, and you don’t want that because you can’t give him ch
ildren.”
Maude touched the tip of her nose. “It wouldn’t be fair.”
Annie felt guilty for her previous talk about not wanting children at this point in her career. It was far different to face never having them.
“Not all men want children.”
“Perhaps,” Maude said. “But by the time a beau and I would have such a conversation, we would have feelings for each other. His finding out I couldn’t … I don’t want to inflict that sort of pain on anyone—nor experience it myself.”
“If a man really loved you, he wouldn’t care.”
“I would care.” She began taking hairpins from her hair, setting them in a pile on the bed. “For a long while I tried to play the part of a shy and reclusive sort in public, hoping men would ignore me. But for some reason many of them took my reticence as a challenge, and they tried to bring me out of my shell.”
“You, shy?”
She ran her hands through her now freed hair, raking her scalp. “Being who I was not was too much work. And so I decided to go the opposite route. I decided to overwhelm them with wit and sarcasm—trying to be too much for them.”
“Has that worked?”
“You don’t see a man around, do you?” She covered a yawn with her hand. “If I do spot interest, I quickly nip it in the bud.” She collected her hairpins then began getting undressed. “I’ve accepted my lot. Please don’t feel sorry for me. My career is rewarding and I have many friends—like you. Those blessings save me from despair.”
“You are the most courageous woman I know.”
“It doesn’t take courage to accept what is.”
“But I think it does. You could resent it, fight it, and be bitter. You’ve chosen not to be any of those things.”
“Don’t make me a saint, Annie. I have plenty of bitter moments. Sometimes it’s hard not to wallow in it.” She stepped out of her skirt and moved to hang it up.
“Does my relationship with Sean make it more difficult? If it does, I won’t talk about him and—”
Maude whipped around, making her petticoat swing. “Absolutely not,” she said. “I am happy for the two of you. I want to hear the details of your courtship. I want you to be happy.”
“Are you happy?”
Maude paused a moment then said, “I am. My mother always said, ‘God is good, all the time.’ I have to believe that. There’s something good that will come out of my pain. It may be years down the road, but I truly believe that someday …”
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