Upstairs people were laughing and enjoying the embarrassment of not knowing one another. Leander and Winifred stood together, unmasked, and stared into each other’s eyes as if the rest of the world had completely disappeared. Carter envied them. They would marry and be happy. They would trust each other and make a future together. The scene only served to remind Carter of how far out of reach those things were for him—at least at the moment.
He hated himself for having kissed Catherine. He’d clearly offended her. She didn’t know it was him, and perhaps that’s why he dared the kiss. Still, it was wrong. He took liberties that were not his to take.
Leaning against the wall, Carter prayed. Father, I don’t know what to do. I’m trying my best to help her father and in turn help Catherine. I love her. You know this even better than I. She’s charming and intelligent. She is so kind to Winifred. Show me what I am to do. Please . . . If she is not for me, then take away this intense longing for her.
“Carter, why are you hiding back here?” Winifred asked.
“Are you sick?”
He opened his eyes to see his sister’s concerned expression.
“Perhaps lovesick,” he admitted. “Catherine has fled.”
Winifred’s eyes widened. “I had hoped she’d be here. Leander just proposed. I wanted you both to share in my happiness.”
Taking her hands in his, Carter offered her a smile. “I do share your happiness. Lee has long been like a brother to me and now he shall be my brother in truth.”
“He was wise to propose here. Father could hardly do anything but offer his blessing, especially since he had agreed to the courtship. In front of all these witnesses, he wouldn’t dare take it back.”
“I agree. It was a fine decision.” Carter dropped his hold as
Leander joined them.
“Here you are,” Lee said.
Carter embraced him with a hearty slap on the back. “My brother.”
“Soon to be.” Lee looked around the room. “And where is
Catherine? I heard she was to be here tonight.”
“She was, but now she’s gone. I did something very foolish,”
Carter admitted.
Leander and Winifred looked at him oddly, but it was Winifred who spoke. “You didn’t propose, did you?”
Lee laughed. “So that is what you think of proposals? They are foolish?”
Winifred reddened. “No . . . I just . . . no, that’s not it,” she stammered. “I just thought maybe it frightened her away.”
“I did worse,” Carter said. His voice lowered. “I kissed her. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t help myself.”
Winifred and Lee began to laugh. Carter felt only more ridiculous. “All right, all right. Laugh at my expense, but it’s not funny. She left without a word. I may well have ruined my chances with her. I only comfort myself in believing she didn’t know it was me.”
“She knew,” Winifred said, then put her hands to her mouth. Both men looked at her, so she managed to whisper, “She told me she recognized you by the cut of your clothes and the . . . well . . . the shape of you. She is, after all, a very talented seamstress.”
Carter hit the wall with his fist. “I should have known. I suppose I did. I felt certain she knew it was me, but I didn’t make an issue of it.”
“So you both knew each other,” Lee said with a shrug. “Then you both were willing participants in the kiss. I would say no harm done.”
“I’d like to believe that, but if that were the case, why did she run away?”
“She told me that if she came, she would leave before the unveiling,” Winifred offered. “She said it was important, because she was only a seamstress and the rest of our company might not understand.”
“Catherine isn’t a mere seamstress,” Carter protested. “She’s from a very fine family in England.” He realized that he’d said too much, but Winifred was nodding.
“Yes, I know. She once admitted as much but begged me to say nothing. Apparently there is some sort of danger that might befall her family if the truth is told.”
“Lee and I have been working to set the matter right,” Carter admitted. “It was the reason we went to New York. Say nothing about it, however. I want to wait until I’m certain things can be concluded.”
“Carter, how kind. Of course I’ll keep silent until you know more,” Winifred agreed.
“I don’t know about the rest of you,” Lee said, “but I’m starving and ready to join the others for the midnight supper. What say you two?”
Winifred looked to Carter and put her hand on his arm. “There is nothing you can do tonight. Perhaps you can go see her tomorrow after church.”
“Yes,” he said, nodding. “I will do that. I will sit her down and explain that I knew who she was the minute she fell into my arms upon her arrival. Father was paying her a bit too much attention, and as she turned to flee his ogling, she fell against me. Once she knows that I was not merely taking liberties with a stranger, perhaps she will forgive me.”
“I’m certain she will,” Winifred said with a smile. “Now come. I have no desire to let my husband-to-be perish from hunger. It was much too hard to secure him, and I’ve no desire to start anew.”
The men laughed and Lee pulled her close. “There will be no starting anew. You are mine and I intend to remain at your side until we are old and gray.”
Catherine found the entire sewing house waiting up for her when she got home. The atmosphere was one of revelry, and everyone wanted to know about the party.
“Nearly every gown there was one of our creations,” Catherine stated. “The women were quite beautiful and the dresses moved in perfect order as they danced.”
“Oh, I wish I could have seen it,” Martha said with a sigh.
“What did they say when you were unmasked?” Dolley questioned.
“I didn’t stay for the unveiling,” Catherine admitted. “I was afraid some might have been uncomfortable with that revelation.
I didn’t wish to offend.”
“Oh, but you are so very beautiful, I cannot imagine anyone would be offended,” Mrs. Clarkson countered. “You should have remained and showed them all what a graceful and beautiful lady you are.”
Selma and Dugan met her gaze but said nothing. Catherine could tell by the set of their faces that something was wrong. Or at least different.
“And how did they go decoratin’ the house?” Beatrix asked.
“It was all lovely,” Catherine said, still watching Selma. “There were green pine boughs trimmed in red and gold ribbons. There was a large Christmas tree at one end of the room near the huge buffet tables. Following the unmasking there was to be a supper for all to share.”
“Oh, me mouth waters just thinkin’ of what might have been there.” Beatrix closed her eyes. “Food aplenty for everyone. I can just see it.”
“Yes, there was plenty. Mrs. Danby plans this party for months in advance. Her daughter once told me that they hold other parties throughout the year, but their Christmas masquerade is her mother’s pride and joy.”
“And did you dance?” Dolley questioned.
Catherine winced as she moved her feet. “I did. In fact, I danced nearly every dance. My feet are very sore, and I think they are swollen.”
“Oh, I would have loved to have danced. How wonderful,” Martha declared, then began swaying and pretending to waltz. Selma whispered something to Dugan, then the two of them got to their feet. “I believe we’ll retire. Catherine, do come tell us good-night when you go to bed.”
Catherine realized they were trying to tell her that there was news to be shared. She yawned and nodded.
“Look, I want only to soak my feet in a hot tub. I really overdid the dancing,” Catherine admitted. “I’m completely exhausted.
I promise we can speak more of this in the morning.”
“I’ll be bringin’ ya some hot water,” Beatrix told her, getting to her feet. “You just head up, and I’ll help you und
ress as well.”
Catherine nodded. “Thank you so much.” She eased onto her feet and grimaced. “I might have to crawl, but I’ll get there eventually.”
The girls laughed, and everyone declared that for Catherine’s sake it was good they had three days off.
“You’ll need as much for recovery,” Mrs. Clarkson teased. “Now, don’t forget, girls, I need everyone to meet at breakfast in the morning before going off on your holiday.”
Catherine made her way upstairs and waited for Beatrix. The girl seemed to have infinite reserves of energy as she poured a tub of water, then hurried to help Catherine unfasten the gown.
“Ya look finer than any grand lady I’ve ever seen. Although, I’d have to be admittin’ that I haven’t seen many.” She lifted the gown over Catherine’s hair. “Yar hair is still nearly perfect. I love the way it falls. Makes me wish mine were dark and thick like yarself.”
Catherine smiled. “Your hair is beautiful. I think the red is far more desirable.” She felt a great sense of relief as Beatrix undid the lacing of her corset and helped Catherine from its confines.
“If ya’ll be sittin’, I’ll help ya with the stockings and then ya can be soakin’ yar feet,” the girl told Catherine as she handed her the well-worn robe.
“No. Just pour the water. I need to go tell my folks goodnight. They looked quite ready to go to bed, and I don’t want to be the reason they have to stay up.”
Beatrix nodded. “I’ll be puttin’ the tub by the fireplace. Then I’ll build ya a right hot fire and by the time ya make it back, yar room should be nice and toasty.”
Catherine sighed. It sounded so wonderful. “Thank you, Beatrix. You’ve been very kind.”
“Go on with ya now,” she said with a grin. “ ’Twas just my good Christian act.”
Catherine put on her slippers and left Beatrix working at the hearth. There was no telling what news Selma and Dugan had heard. She headed up the stairs and squared her shoulders. No matter the news, she was determined to be strong. She drew a deep breath and knocked at their door.
Dugan answered and ushered her in. Selma immediately joined them with a letter in hand. “This was misdirected to the house next door,” she told Catherine. “They brought it over just after you left for the ball. Apparently it came a couple of days ago, but the family was out of town.”
“Who is it from? What does it say?” Catherine asked, suddenly feeling anxious.
“You can read it for yourself.” Selma extended the letter.
“No. I’m much too nervous. I can see that something is wrong. Has he . . . is he . . .”
“He’s not dead, if that’s what you’re thinking. No, it’s nothing like that. I can’t even say if it’s good news or bad,” Selma admitted. “But it seems good.”
“Sit down and we can explain,” Dugan offered.
Catherine did as he told her, but her gaze was ever fixed on Selma. “So what does it say?”
Selma continued to stand. She opened the letter and read, “ ‘Mr. Newbury was moved from the prison, but we have no idea as to who commanded such a thing or where he’s been taken. We tried to get information, but apparently his lawyer has decreed that no one speak of it. We fear for him, but at the same time rejoice that he has been removed from such a dreary and desolate existence.’ ”
“But where has he gone? Who would have taken him?” Catherine asked, panicked. “I can’t believe this—of what lawyer do they speak? Father has no lawyer.”
“I wish I had answers for you,” Selma replied. “There is hardly anything more here, except a promise to try and get information.” She folded the letter. “Catherine, it would seem to be good news overall, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know what to think.” Catherine hoped that Father’s friends had somehow managed to reach the ear of an official. Or perhaps Finley Baker had been captured and her father’s innocence was now recognized.
She got up and began to pace in front of the fire. The pain in her feet kept her awake and focused. “There has to be an answer to all of this. I wish we could get word to Captain Marlowe. He’s been diligent in aiding Father and would most likely have additional information.”
“Perhaps,” Selma agreed. “Maybe Dugan could write him a letter.”
“Or go see him. It might behoove us to spend the money to send Dugan by coach to New York.”
“That might be a good idea,” Selma admitted. “However, we cannot be sure he’s in residence. Perhaps we could send a telegram.”
Catherine considered it for a moment. “They won’t be open on Sunday. We could simply put Dugan on the train and see him in New York in a matter of hours, rather than wait.”
Dugan shook his head. “The captain might not be in town, Catherine. It might be weeks before he returns and then the cost of the ticket would be for naught, for I certainly couldn’t afford to wait for him there.”
Selma nodded. “Dugan’s right. We have no way of knowing if the captain would even be there. We should pray about it and see what God directs. He has shown us all along and will no doubt show us now. We have only to seek His guidance.”
Pausing, Catherine turned. “I know you’re both right, but that doesn’t make the wait any easier. I sometimes feel as though God has . . . well, stopped listening. I pray for strength. I pray for help—that someone would come along with the ability to see things made right. But nothing happens.”
“Now, you don’t know that,” Dugan interjected. “Remember Abraham taking Isaac up the mountain to be sacrificed? He didn’t see any other way out either. But lo and behold, God was sending a ram up the other side even as Abraham prepared his son to die.”
“And when God knew He would destroy the earth with a flood,” Selma added, “He made provision for Noah and his family. Not to mention all of those animals.”
“I know that God has been faithful in the past . . .” Catherine began.
“But you don’t know if He’ll be faithful now?” Selma interrupted to question.
Catherine realized how silly it all sounded. “I just don’t see the faithfulness. I want to. I really do. It’s just so hard to maintain your hope when everything is out of the realm of your influence.
I have no chance to alter the course on my own. I have no say in the matter.”
Selma nodded. “I know. You’re a servant of the Lord. And as a servant, you must trust the Master to guide and do right by you. Dugan and I have done that all of our lives. We’ve never had any other choice. When the master said we were to go somewhere and do something, we went without asking questions. That’s how it is when you are a servant.”
“Even when it meant leaving England to come here with me,” Catherine said, realizing the impact. “I’m so sorry. I know this has been hard on you.”
“But there have been blessings as well,” Selma said, exchanging a glance with Dugan. “We love you, Catherine. We love your father too. Mr. Newbury was always good to us. We wanted to honor him and give him something in return.”
“And seeing his only child to safety and out of the clutches of misunderstandings or Finley Baker was the one thing we could offer,” Dugan replied. “Trusting God in all of this is the one thing you can offer. You can’t see where the Master is asking you to go, but you have to trust that He has your best interests at heart.”
The words comforted Catherine in a way she couldn’t explain.
“I will try,” she whispered.
“And have hope that He is acting, even when you cannot see it or touch it,” Selma offered. “You have no way of knowing how God is at work in this matter, but I assure you, He is.”
Catherine thought of Selma’s words long into the night. After soaking her sore feet for some time, she finally slipped into bed, exhausted from the day’s events. She thought of her father and prayed that he might be comfortable wherever he’d been taken.
But soon Catherine found her thoughts becoming more dark and the images in her mind more bleak and desperate. Resol
ving not to ponder the worst, she instead replaced them with visions of Carter Danby. The memory of being in his arms—of his kiss—was enough to take her mind from the bad to the good.
When she awoke the next morning to the sound of church bells, she left behind a dream that made those peals the sound of wedding bells. It was hard to put that delightful image behind her, but Catherine knew she had to begin the day.
Breakfast was the usual chaotic affair. The excitement only heightened when Mrs. Clarkson announced that she was handing out the bonuses.
“I wanted you girls to have money as you leave today to visit your families for the holiday.” She handed each girl a small drawstring bag. “I have made you each a little purse as my Christmas gift. Inside you will find your bonus for jobs well done. I’m proud of each one of you. You faced remarkable tasks and seemingly insurmountable odds, and came through in victory.”
She rounded the table and gave Catherine a very heavy purse. With a smile she made yet another announcement. “Because of the popularity of Catherine’s designs, and your hard work to implement her patterns, Godey’s Lady’s Book has decided to purchase several designs for publication. We will probably receive a great many additional orders. Because of this, I plan to expand the sewing house. In the new year, we will take on additional workers. We will bring in some more experienced seamstresses who are looking to give up their current situations, but you girls will always have a special place in my heart, so do not fear I will overlook you. I want this to be the best sewing house in all of Philadelphia.”
“How exciting,” Dolley exclaimed as she turned to Martha.
“Won’t that be grand?”
“Experienced seamstresses?” Felicia asked as she toyed with the bag. “I suppose that means none of us shall ever be able to step up in position beyond what we already have.”
“It will depend,” Mrs. Clarkson replied. “If the other women are more qualified, then you will simply have to wait until such time that your own experience and quality of work can equal theirs.”
A Lady of Hidden Intent Page 19
