A Lady of Hidden Intent

by Tracie Peterson

  “Of course. Every architect, whether interested in participating or not, remembers the five-hundred-dollar purse that was offered,” Carter said.

  “Well, there is to be another competition. I believe between you and me, we can win that competition.” The older man broke a piece of bread from the loaf and sopped it with gravy before popping it into his mouth.

  Carter sat back and looked at Fulbright for a moment. The man wasn’t jesting or merely putting out a thought for consideration; he had plans for this competition—plans that had brought him to Carter’s doorstep.

  “If we won and received the contract,” Fulbright continued, “I believe it would require us to move to Washington. Would that be of any interest to you?”

  Carter went back to work on his food. The answer for him was very easy. “Yes. Yes, I would find that of great interest to me.”

  “What of your family? Surely you’ve taken a wife by now.”

  Carter smiled. “I’m trying to take a wife but have not yet accomplished that task. I would, of course, want to consider her desires in the matter.”

  “Of course. However, since the time is so very short, I am suggesting we take a trip to the city and survey the sites already chosen and perhaps sketch out some ideas. I’d like to leave the day after Christmas.”

  Carter considered the matter for several minutes as they ate in silence. Once he saw Catherine and explained his knowledge of her family—and proposed marriage—he would know for sure where he stood with her. If he could accomplish that much before they left, it would give him a greater ability to make choices for the future.

  “I think I would like to come with you,” Carter said, forking a piece of potato. “At least by giving the matter some serious speculation, we can better tell if the project is of as much interest in person as it is in our minds.” He grinned and Hollis laughed.

  “It will also give you time to pray on the matter. I’ve already given it a great deal of thought and prayer, but I know that I cannot take on this project without you. Besides that, I’m nearly sixty years old. I need a partner who can come alongside me. I have always been impressed with your abilities—your style and manner of design.”

  “Well, you did much to train me. A great deal of my style can be credited to your teachings.”

  “I appreciate that. But even so, you are to be honored for your own abilities and insight. You are an artist at heart. You see things that are not and dream them into life. I want that kind of partner.”

  “And where would we set up shop? Washington?”

  “Well, I suppose we would have to be there at least as long as the jobs were under construction. Are you averse to moving?”

  “No. Not at all.” Carter sliced a piece of bread and thoughtfully considered what Catherine might say on the matter. “I do have obligations here, however. I have been commissioned to build two houses, one of them quite extensive. My designs will guide the construction, but I will need to oversee from time to time.”

  “Perhaps that can be balanced between cities. Washington is not that far by train.”

  “That’s true. So tell me what our plan will be.”

  As they shared their lunch, Fulbright explained they would take the train and stay for several days in Washington. “We should be able to be home by New Year’s Eve, so if you have plans, it won’t interfere.”

  “I have no plans at this moment, but perhaps by then I will.”

  Carter thought of Catherine again and smiled. “Yes, if I have my way, I will have very important plans.”

  Catherine walked along the harbor and felt the cold wind against her face. She thought of her father out there somewhere across the sea. Captain Marlowe wasn’t due back in town for a week or more, but Mrs. Samuelson assured them that he was coming. Atlantic winter crossings were always of greater risk, however, and thus the passages were often taken with slower speeds and more consideration to the weather. Catherine prayed the captain might find calm, clear waters. She prayed, too, that he might bring good news of her father’s safety—even freedom.

  An icy rain began to fall lightly just as she reached Mrs. Samuelson’s house. Catherine tried not to worry about the future, remembering a verse that Selma had shared with her only that morning about the Lord giving rest.

  She pulled out the piece of paper Selma had given her and reread the words of Isaiah fourteen, verse three. “ ‘And it shall come to pass in the day that the Lord shall give thee rest from thy sorrow, and from thy fear, and from the hard bondage wherein thou wast made to serve,’ ” she murmured aloud.

  Selma had said the words were given in regard to Israel, but that given God’s unchanging nature, she believed them to speak of Catherine’s situation as well.

  “He might not have had them written specifically for you, Catherine,” Selma had told her, “but because God is faithful and loving, I am certain we can trust them to be true for us. God will give you rest from the sorrows and fears you have known. He will deliver you from a life of running and hiding, of working until you are exhausted.”

  Catherine sighed and put the piece of paper back into her pocket. She looked up at the boardinghouse and sighed again. She had come full circle, it seemed. This was where her American journey began, and now here she was again. Had it happened this way to bring her to the end?

  CHAPTER 23

  Oh, it’s so good to have Mrs. Shay cooking for us,” Mrs. Samuelson said as they all ate a hearty meal of fish chowder and biscuits.

  There were four other men at the table besides Dugan, and they ate with such an appetite that Catherine thought they might well have been locked away without food for some time. When Selma produced an apple crisp and cream for dessert, Catherine heard a collective sigh of approval from around the table.

  When all seemed completely sated, the men shuffled off to various parts of the house. Mrs. Samuelson admonished them as they headed out, “Don’t get ashes on my carpet, and if you go out, wipe your muddy boots before coming into my house.”

  Catherine nibbled at the bowl of crisp Selma had put in front of her, but she had little appetite. She felt more forlorn than she had in years. Being here again only served to remind her of those early days of despair. Here it was, Christmas again. One more Christmas without her father.

  “We’ve managed to get by,” the old woman told the Shays. “It hasn’t always been easy. There were some moments when I worried about whether we’d be able to make it. There was a bad fire not long after you left. It started about two blocks away. We worried it would spread, but a heavy rain came up and put it out. We were all in church the next day, if you know what I mean.”

  Selma smiled. “I can well imagine. It looks like you’ve done all right for yourself. Your husband would no doubt be proud.”

  Mrs. Samuelson nodded. “He would at that. Despite the trials we’ve suffered over the years since his death, there’s been good along with the bad. Our daughter—you might remember she was a widow?” Selma nodded, and the woman continued. “Well, she remarried and is happier and better off than ever. That husband of hers has a way with money. Seems what little he manages to get hold of he finds a way to double. They’ve done very well for themselves.”

  “That must be a comfort.”

  The chatter continued about Mrs. Samuelson’s other children, as well as two elderly aunts who now rested in the arms of Jesus, and a bevy of weary travelers who either blessed or frustrated the old woman.

  “And of course,” Mrs. Samuelson said, “there were those two gents who came looking for you.”

  Catherine had barely registered the words as Selma asked, “What men?”

  Mrs. Samuelson laughed. “I don’t recall their names. Goodness, but my mind ain’t what it was.” She tapped the side of her head with a finger. “They was both nice looking and well-behaved. They talked with Captain Marlowe. I can’t be sure what he told them, but you could always ask the captain when he shows up.”

  “Where were they from?” Catheri
ne asked. She felt the apple crisp stick in her throat.

  “I’m not sure. I’m thinking maybe Philadelphia.” Mrs. Samuelson’s face scrunched up in a wrinkled but concentrated stare.

  “I’m almost certain it was Philadelphia.” She relaxed and shook her head. “But it could have been New Jersey.”

  “Please try hard to remember,” Catherine said, trying not to sound desperate.

  Mrs. Samuelson shook her head and shrugged. “Doesn’t do me any good. Sometimes I remember and sometimes I don’t. Trying hard at it doesn’t seem to change things at all.”

  Selma began to gather the dishes, but Mrs. Samuelson waved her off. “You three go on up to rest. I’ll get the dishes. I’m sure you’re tired.” She hoisted her stocky frame up and began the work herself. “I wish I could help you more, but I will say the men were quite kind. They seemed very much familiar with you, Miss Catherine. I think they were good friends of yours. Especially the one. He seemed quite taken with you.”

  Carter came to mind, and in that moment Catherine began to understand. Carter had come to New York back in November.

  He had seemed to understand she wouldn’t wish to speak of her family at the Arlingtons’ dinner.

  “I am very tired,” she said and pushed the bowl away. “I believe I will retire.”

  She had barely made it upstairs and closed the door to her room when Selma came knocking and calling to her, “Catherine, we should talk.”

  Catherine reopened the door. “It had to be Carter and Leander Arlington,” she said, knowing that Selma would understand. “Let’s not talk here in the hallway. Come to our room.”

  Nodding, Catherine followed her out, then turned and locked her door. Mrs. Samuelson had said there were plenty of thieves in the area, and a crafty one was often able to slip into boardinghouses unseen. She admonished them to keep their doors locked at all times.

  Selma and Dugan seemed less concerned. They didn’t bother to lock their door after entering, but Catherine supposed it a rather unneeded exercise. The room was quite small, and if more than two people came into it, they might well have to link arms just to move about. She even found it necessary to remain near the door while Selma motioned Dugan to bring the chair to Catherine.

  “Catherine believes the men who came here to ask after her were Mr. Danby and Mr. Arlington,” Selma offered as Dugan returned to sit on the edge of the bed beside his wife.

  “The thought crossed my mind as well. It seemed quite clear to me that your Mr. Danby had taken a great interest in you,”

  Dugan offered.

  “He’s told me that he’s in love with me. He wants to court me. At least he wanted me to do so then,” Catherine said. But if he had come to New York in November, then whatever he learned hadn’t changed his heart toward her.

  “What do you think he’ll do with the information?” Selma asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know why he felt compelled to seek it out to begin with or how he found out to start here.” Catherine twisted her hands. “Between the fact that he knows and Felicia knows, I don’t think we can hope to be safe here anymore. We cannot remain in New York City.”

  Selma looked to Dugan, and her expression was one of extreme concern. “But where should we go?”

  “Perhaps the time has come to return to England,” Catherine said firmly. “Captain Marlowe would surely grant us passage. He might not even charge us. He wouldn’t take Father’s money to bring us here, and maybe he would refuse it to take us back.”

  “If he would take us back,” Dugan replied. “If he feels ’tis not in your best interest, he might well refuse.”

  Catherine hadn’t thought of that. “Well, it’s possible, I suppose, but it is a chance we can take. It cannot hurt to inquire and present our request.”

  “True,” Dugan said, nodding. “It’s not as if he doesn’t already know the truth.”

  “Don’t you have family in Scotland, Dugan?” Catherine asked, a thought coming to mind. “I doubt anyone would look for you and Selma there after all this time. You could go there and be safe. No one believes you responsible for anything that happened anyway. I know you only came here because of me.”

  “And that is where we will stay,” Selma replied. “With you.

  Our promise to your father was to guard you as our own. You are truly a daughter to us.”

  Catherine gave Selma a hug. “While I do not fear Carter causing me problems, I feel almost certain Felicia will stop at nothing. If she was able to get the information regarding Father and our past, then she most likely will figure out where we have gone.”

  Dugan turned to Selma. “She makes a good point. Perhaps we could inquire of Captain Marlowe to take us to England, then maybe catch another ship north.”

  “It might work. From the letters we’ve had in all this time, no one has indicated that Catherine is being actively sought by the law. They might want to question her knowledge or prove that she’s not been kidnapped, but it isn’t as if they would harm her.” Selma thought for a moment. “It would definitely put us closer to helping poor Mr. Newbury. Now that Catherine has a good amount of money, the longer she waits to put it to use, the more we’ll end up spending as we sit trying to decide what to do.”

  “We must, at any rate, wait for Captain Marlowe,” Catherine admitted. “All we can do is hope that Felicia will not know about this place, and that Carter won’t try to visit me until well after the holidays. If we can just have the time we need until the captain returns, we should be all right. We can make our way home and find a good barrister who will help Father.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Danby, the Shays and Miss Catherine have gone out,” Mrs. Clarkson said with a pleasant smile. “I cannot say when they will return.”

  Carter fingered the gift in his pocket, frustrated that he’d still not yet seen Catherine. He tried to force the disappointment from his mind. “Very well. Would you please tell Miss Shay that I called? I find it necessary to go out of town for a few days.”

  “Oh,” she replied, sounding suddenly interested. “And where are you bound?”

  “Washington. I hope to be back within a week. I’ll come back by at that time.”

  “Very well. Merry Christmas to you, Mr. Danby.”

  “Merry Christmas to you, Mrs. Clarkson.”

  She quickly closed the door after bidding him farewell and a safe journey.

  Carter stood for a moment staring at the closed door. Something seemed wrong, but he couldn’t be sure what it was. Mrs. Clarkson acted quite nervous. He wondered for a moment if perhaps Catherine had become ill or if she were upstairs simply refusing his call.

  “I’ll send Winifred with a note tomorrow,” he murmured. The words did little to comfort him.

  CHAPTER 24

  This will one day be such a glorious city,” Hollis Fulbright told Carter as they walked in Washington. “It will rival any of the other great seats of government.”

  “If Americans can put aside their differences, it might. The slavery issue is dividing this country. I suppose coming here has really opened my eyes to that matter.”

  “Yes, it is a sad state of affairs,” Fulbright agreed. “One that cannot be ignored, no matter how we try.”

  “I never thought I’d see the day grown men raise their fists to each other over issues of whether a state should come into the union free or slave,” Carter said, remembering a scene he’d witnessed yesterday in a local hotel. “While you were meeting with your friend Mr. Masters, I sat in the hotel lobby to read. Two men, later identified to me as state senators, began arguing over the issue of Kansas coming into the union. One thing led to another and the men were soon pummeling each other.”

  Fulbright nodded. “Masters told me the issue of Kansas and slavery has consumed the city. It seems that poor territory is suffering a civil war all its own—not to mention whether the rest of the country will fall into that disrepair.”

  “Yes, but to see gentlemen coming to blows over issues that
will need calmer heads to prevail and resolve is worrisome indeed.” Carter wondered if the country could survive a war between the states. The South had been threatening secession for years, and no doubt sooner or later they would make good on their threats.

  “This year’s presidential campaign will tell us a great deal.

  Should the wrong candidate be elected, we will no doubt see trouble,” Fulbright agreed.

  “Yet the city builds on, pretending nothing is amiss,” Carter said, shaking his head.

  “Perhaps that is a bit harsh. I don’t think they build on in pretense but rather in hope. The hope that if we invest enough in our country, our government, then we will stand fast to stave off war.”

  “I pray you are right. I would hate to see war come to America.

  There are so many blessings that I find it impossible to imagine people can put those aside and focus only on the issues that divide us.”

  They made their way to one of the properties where it was hoped a new government building could be created. Carter looked at the nearest properties, noting their style and architectural detail. The Greek Revival pieces were highly favored.

  “There are plans for a road to be brought through on the other side,” Fulbright said, glancing at a paper that detailed some of the information related to the project.

  Carter made a quick sketch of the area before they moved on to yet another property. He couldn’t help but think of Catherine and wonder if she would like living in Washington. If she wanted to move back to England, Carter knew it would create difficulties for them. Of course, they could always live there part of the year, and in America the rest of the time.

  The threat of war was also something to consider. If the issues of slavery and states’ rights could not be resolved, then Carter knew the South would secede. No president or Congress in their right minds would allow that to go unchallenged, and there would be war.