Hush Now, Don’t You Cry

by Rhys Bowen

  My first thought was that the man was Alderman Hannan in person, but that notion was dispelled when he roared, “Who the devil are you?”

  “I could ask you the same thing, sir.” Daniel was now wide awake and in fighting spirit. “Or do you make a point of bursting into people’s bedrooms in the middle of the night?”

  “As to that, I am Joseph Hannan, and you are trespassing on my family’s property. Thought the place would be empty for the winter and you’d have a nice quiet spot to entertain your fancy girl, did you, my boy?”

  Daniel got out of bed and took a step toward Joseph Hannan. He was several inches taller and stood face-to-face with the man. “In the first place she’s my wife and not my ‘fancy girl,’ as you so crudely put it,” he said. “In the second my name is Daniel Sullivan and I am here as a guest of Alderman Brian Hannan, whom I was expecting to see tomorrow.”

  “My brother didn’t let me know that there would be any outsiders present,” Joseph said, sounding a trifle defensive now.

  “Ask him yourself if you doubt my credibility,” Daniel said. “But I can assure you that if I wanted a few days away with my wife, the last thing I’d consider doing is sneaking into someone else’s house when I can afford to pay for a perfectly good hotel.”

  “Then may I ask why my brother invited you to come here at the same time as the family? You’re not some relative I don’t know about, are you? Some lost kin from Ireland he’s tracked down? He never invites outsiders.”

  “He was doing me a good turn. I was at a meeting with him the other day and he heard that I’d had to abandon my honeymoon after only a couple of days due to urgent business in New York. So he most kindly offered me the use of his guest cottage.”

  “But surely not at a time when the family was coming?”

  “I think he assumed that the family would stay at the main house,” Daniel said.

  Joseph scowled. “Damned inconsiderate of him. He knows I often choose to get away from the others and have the guest cottage to myself.”

  I thought I witnessed the shadow in the background start to tiptoe back down the stairs. And I remembered Mrs. McCreedy saying that Joseph Hannan rarely brought his wife with him. He’s got a lady friend in tow, I thought with a smile. That’s why he’s come up early and wants the privacy of the guest cottage. Joseph Hannan noticed my expression and annoyance flushed across his face.

  “The family wasn’t expected until tomorrow,” Daniel said. “At least that is what Mrs. McCreedy told us.”

  “Then my brother is not here yet? I was hoping for a word with him before the hordes descend. It’s downright impossible to talk to the man in New York, now he’s rushing all over the place with his political aspirations, leaving me to run the business alone.”

  He stood scowling at us.

  “There must be more to this. My brother is not noted for his generosity to outsiders. Something to do with Tammany Hall, maybe. He wants to make sure he can sway the election his way.” He studied Daniel’s face. “Am I close to the mark? You’ve influence at Tammany and he wants you to get him votes?”

  Daniel said nothing so Joseph Hannan went on. “That would be more like Brian than a simple act of kindness to a newly married couple.”

  “Why don’t you ask him yourself,” Daniel said.

  “I will, as soon as he damn well gets here,” Joseph said. “You can bet your boots I will. He’s not the only Hannan brother, you know. Damned dictator—summoning us all here, as if we were his lackeys. And it’s bad enough having the whole family present without a horde of outsiders.” He paused, looking from Daniel to me.

  “So I suppose I’ll have to rethink my plans for tonight,” he said as neither of us showed any inclination to move.

  “I gather there are two bedrooms,” Daniel said. “You’re more than welcome to the other one.”

  Joseph Hannan took a belligerent step forward then thought better of it. “Downright inconvenient,” he said. “I don’t like having my plans upset. It’s too bad of my brother. Never bothers to consult the rest of the family about a damned thing.”

  Daniel just stood there, arms folded.

  “Mrs. McCreedy has all the beds made up and ready in the main house,” Daniel said. “I don’t know whether she’ll be sleeping there tonight, but as you’re a family member, I’m sure you’ll have a key. Now if you don’t mind, my wife and I would like to go back to sleep.”

  Joseph Hannan snorted, then turned on his heels and stomped down the stairs. I picked up a hint of whispered conversation and then the front door slammed.

  “The arrogance of the man,” Daniel said. “I really think he expected us to slink out and leave the place to him.”

  “He had a lady with him,” I said. “I heard her voice while you were asleep.”

  “Ah, so that explains why he didn’t want to be with the rest in the main house. I don’t suppose Brian would have welcomed Joseph’s mistress with open arms, not if he’d a wife he left at home.”

  He climbed back into bed. “This is almost becoming farcical,” he said. “Are we never to have a peaceful night’s sleep as man and wife?”

  “Daniel,” I said as he turned out the light and climbed back into bed, “why didn’t you tell him that you were a police officer?”

  “I decided that now was not the right moment,” Daniel said. “More interesting to listen to what the man had to say when he didn’t know I was with the police. Ah, well, let’s get some rest. I hope to sleep off this damned chill or grippe or whatever it is. I’d like to be at my best when they all arrive.”

  With that he pulled the covers over his face and promptly fell into a deep sleep. I lay awake, still disturbed by the nocturnal visit and by the events of the day. I listened to the crashing of waves onto the shore and my thoughts turned to that poor little girl. I pictured her body lying on those rocks and I snuggled up closer to Daniel. There were so many dangers in life and no way to prevent them. I was now married to a policeman. Danger was to be part of our lives. When I had been living alone and running my detective business I had found myself in danger several times. To begin with it hadn’t worried me but lately it had preyed on my mind. I suppose that now that I had Daniel, I didn’t want to lose him.

  Seven

  Eventually I fell asleep but my dreams were troubled. A little girl dancing on the lawn with a lamb until a great shadow loomed over her and a voice said, “Now the light has gone out of our lives.”

  By morning the sadness melted away and I awoke quite cheerfully to another day of brilliant sunlight. Daniel awoke not quite so cheerfully, acting like most men with a cold—in a thoroughly bad temper. I tried to remind myself of my recent vows of in sickness and in health, made him hot tea and a boiled egg and tucked a rug around his shoulders.

  “What would really help is a mustard plaster,” he said. “And something to steam. That’s what my mother always did for a cold. Friar’s Balsam, I believe.”

  “And what did you do for a cold when you were not with your mother?” I asked, trying to keep my expression sweet and caring.

  “Nothing. I never had time to be ill so I just kept on going.”

  “Would you like me to walk into town and see if I can find a chemist who stocks the things you want?” I asked.

  “That would be wonderful.” He reached out his hand and took mine, looking up at me with gratitude, making me glad that I had acted like a dutiful wife.

  I left him with a rug over his knees, sitting in the sunshine, while I put on my cape and hat and went into town. The gardener was working near the gate and he dropped his tools and ran ahead to open it for me. “You’re walking, are you, miss?” he asked. “You don’t need anyone to summon you a carriage or a cab? I’m afraid we’ve no coachman or chauffeur here until the master arrives.”

  “I’m happy to walk. I’m enjoying the fresh air and sunshine, thank you,” I said. “It’s a treat after living in New York City.”

  “Are you a relative over from Ireland?”
he asked.

  “No, not a relative. My husband knows the alderman. I’ve never met him.”

  “I understand he’s coming later today, or tomorrow, so you’ll have your chance.”

  “What’s he like?”

  “Not my place to say, ma’am. He’s a tough man to work for. Likes his orders carried out instantly and to the letter, but he pays well. Nothing stingy about him. And he’s very good to his family, so we hear. Supports the lot of them.”

  “Does he?”

  “Oh, yes. Mr. Joseph is the only one of them who does an honest day’s work from what I can tell.” He looked around as he held open the gate. “But I shouldn’t be talking like this. And I’ve work to do. There will be hell to pay if there’s a single dandelion left in this lawn.”

  With that he ushered me through the gate and shut it hurriedly behind me.

  On the opposite side of the street was an ordinary brick colonial house, and as I looked at it, I noticed a lace curtain twitch back into place as if someone had been watching me. I set off at a brisk pace into town, found a chemist, and came back laden with a chest rub—Friar’s Balsam—a tonic guaranteed to put people back on their feet instantly, and some grapes to make Daniel feel better. I found him reading and he seemed to have perked up quite nicely, eating a good healthy amount at lunch.

  But he still declined to come with me down to the seashore in the afternoon. “I think I’ll take a nap after I’ve inhaled some steam,” he said. “If you could just boil me some water and find me a towel to put over my head.”

  I did as he asked, leaving him swathed like a fortune-teller.

  “Don’t take any risks or climb over rocks, do you hear?” he called from under the towel. “I don’t want to find your body lying there where you’ve slipped and hit your head.”

  “No, Daniel,” I said with mock meekness, making him laugh. I laughed too then. “Do you realize that I went out almost every day over the rocks to gather seaweed when I was a child.”

  His face appeared from the towel. “Yes, but I suspect you were not wearing fashionable shoes and a tight skirt in those days,” he said.

  “You’re right about that. I was mostly barefoot. But don’t worry, I’ll be careful. I’ve no wish to slip and ruin my new clothes.”

  So off I went. I looked toward the big house before I crossed the lawns, feeling something of an interloper. Wouldn’t the rest of the family give us the same hostile reception as Joseph Hannan when they arrived? I kept going until I came out of a group of rhododendron bushes to see the ocean below me. At this point the ground fell a sheer forty or fifty feet to rocks below. I looked for a way down but couldn’t find one. Further around the point the cliff turned into a tumble of rocks where there had been a landslide at some stage, but I wasn’t about to attempt that either in my good clothes. So I started along the cliff path, back in the direction of the town. As the path turned a corner I was rewarded with a flight of narrow steps going down the cliff, leading to a little patch of beach. I went down and found a flat rock to sit on. After looking around to make sure nobody was watching I removed my shoes and stockings, then hitched up my skirts and waded at the edge of the ocean. The feel of gentle waves running over my toes took me back to my childhood. I walked along the edge of the water, peering into rock pools, looking for crabs and starfish, delighting in gently waving anemones as I had done as a little girl.

  I lost all consciousness of time or place and it was only as a big wave rushed in, catching me unawares and completely soaking the lower half of my skirt, that I realized where I was and that the tide was coming in. At the next instant I realized that I was now cut off. The narrow strip of shoreline along which I had come was now underwater. I was going to have to find a suitable spot to scramble up the cliffs. I soon realized that this was not going to be achieved in a ladylike manner. There were places when the slope was more a tumble of rocks, but it would still require serious clambering. Not that I found this as daunting as other young ladies would have done, having done more than my share of clambering.

  I tried to assess exactly where I was in relation to the estate above me. I wanted to come up at a spot where I could slink to the cottage unseen. I was well aware that the members of the Hannan family were due to arrive this afternoon and I certainly didn’t want to run into any of them with my skirts sodden and probably torn by the end of the climb.

  As I picked my way gingerly over the rocks, clutching my shoes and stockings, I heard a voice saying, “No, it can’t be a mermaid, can it?”

  I looked up and saw a young man perched on an outcropping high above me. He was dressed in the sober suit of a city gent with a stiff collar and black ascot, but he sat on the cliff edge with his legs dangling over like a large child. The first thing I noticed about him was that he was a most attractive young man. Yes, I know I was now a married woman but one does still notice these things. He had light brown hair that waved just the right amount, a neat little brown mustache, and a good, firm jaw. He also had dark eyes that were now alight with amusement.

  “Don’t tell me you have been cut off by the tide and need rescuing. How delicious. I’ve always wanted to be a hero and save a maiden in distress, but opportunities to do so have been denied to me until now.”

  “Thank you, but I don’t need rescuing,” I said primly.

  “Ah, but you do,” he said. “If you’re not a mermaid, and intending to swim back out to sea—and I perceive no tail—then you’ll have to climb up this cliff and will find yourself trespassing on a private estate where trespassers are shot on sight. Fortunately for you, I am a member of the family and can save you from a rapid and horrible death.”

  With this he scrambled nimbly from his perch to a lower rock and then came down the rest of the way with remarkable agility to my side.

  “I said I didn’t need help,” I said. “And I am afraid I’m not about to be shot either. I’m a guest on the estate, just like you.”

  His face lit up. “A new family member I haven’t heard about? Has one of my disreputable cousins finally done the decent thing and married you?”

  “Not at all,” I said. “I’m not connected with your family. I’m a guest of the alderman.”

  He looked at me now with great speculation. “Are you now? The old dog. So he’s finally tired of widowhood and is thinking of marrying and recapturing his lost youth.”

  “You make a remarkable number of speculations, don’t you?” I said. “When I said I was a guest of the alderman, I meant just that. My husband and I are staying in the guest cottage at Mr. Hannan’s invitation.”

  “Oh, no, don’t tell me you are married. Why is it the pretty ones are always taken? Just my lot, I suppose. But then you have a roguish twinkle in your eye. You might not be the horribly faithful kind.”

  “I’ve only been married three weeks,” I said. “Even the most unfaithful kind is hardly going to look for dalliances during the first month.”

  He laughed then. “I like you. A woman of spirit, indeed. And all that Irish red hair. Delectable.” He held out his hand. “I’m Terry, by the way. Terrence Hannan.”

  “And I’m Molly Murphy—Sullivan, I mean.”

  “Molly Murphy Sullivan? That’s surely a surfeit of Irish names.”

  “Actually it’s Molly Sullivan now. I just haven’t become used to the name yet.”

  “Well, Mrs. Sullivan, allow me to assist you back to civilization before we’re both swamped by the incoming tide.” He held out his hand to me. I took it and he stepped from rock to rock, ably assisting me up to the estate above. There was something like a path at this point up a sloping tumble of rocks, and we reached the top with no problem. He released my hand a trifle reluctantly I thought.

  “Well done, Mrs. Sullivan. You managed that without a single swoon.”

  “I am not the type of woman who swoons,” I said, “and I grew up climbing rocky shorelines.”

  With that I tried to walk away with dignity, until I realized that my shoes and stoc
kings were still in my other hand.

  Eight

  We came out onto the lawns close to where the stand of Scotch Pines reached almost to the cliff edge.

  “Now you are surely in need of a little brandy to calm your nerves,” Terrence said. “Come over to the house for a drink.”

  “I hardly think I’m in a fit state to come to the house,” I said. “Look at me—shoeless and sodden.”

  He looked me up and down and then laughed. “Yes, I do see your point.”

  “If I cut through the pine trees, can I make it back to our cottage unseen, do you think? I really don’t want to encounter any other members of your family while I’m in this state.”

  “Oh, absolutely. We’ve come up at the perfect spot. You’ll notice that you can’t be seen from the house here, and I’ll be happy to escort you through the pine wood. There is a little path. I find it very convenient myself for times when I wish to come and go without attracting attention.”

  “I’m afraid I need to put my shoes on first,” I said. “I’m out of the habit of walking barefoot, so I’d be grateful if you’d point me in the right direction and then leave me.”

  “I can wait while you put your shoes on.”

  “I daresay you can but it wouldn’t be proper, would it? I don’t think your family would approve of my exposing my bare ankles to you.”

  He laughed. “But I already observed them, when you stood at the edge of the surf. And very pretty ankles they were too.”

  “All the same, I’m not going to sit down and put on shoes with you watching, so please go.”

  “I’ll be gallant and turn my back,” he said. “See, there’s a convenient log over there you can sit on and I promise not to watch.”

  “I don’t think I can trust you,” I said.

  He laughed again. “I am cut to the quick. All right. I’ll stand here behind this large shrub. Does that reassure you?”

  “I suppose so,” I said. I picked my way over to the log and lifted my wet skirts enough to put on my shoes. I wasn’t about to attempt stockings.