“But of course,” the older woman replied. “What are aunties for, after all?” She leaned in conspiratorially. “What must I do?”
Chantel smiled in return. “Well, this will involve quite a bit on your part. Our actions will be most inappropriate for our gender and your station.”
Marilla’s laughter filled the air. She seemed so genuinely amused by this that Chantel was momentarily uncertain of what to say next. Marilla quickly explained.
“My dears! My station, as you call it, will survive. I’m well known for my eccentric behavior. Most of my friends simply accept my peculiarities. Some because they truly hold affection for me, while others respect me for the sake of my money. So you see, I shan’t be worried about what will be said if I am found out.”
Chantel loved her aunt all the more for her enthusiasm and began to outline her ideas. Marilla called for several of her servants in order to get their help with the details. With a plan in place, Isabella was able to dry her tears and find the strength to do her part.
“Isabella, I’m going to need you to pack all of your things and anything that Orlando has left behind. We’ll send the groomsman to load it in the carriage.”
“We’ll take my larger coach,” Marilla declared. “It will accommodate all of us and has plenty of room for luggage.”
“And you honestly think this will work, Chantel?” Isabella asked, sounding hopeful for the first time since Dante had taken Orlando away. “I mean, Orlando did go willingly.”
“He went willingly to avoid causing a scene that would have been harmful to this property. I think if he’s given a chance to flee with you, then that’s what he will do. After all, that was the original plan. So in answer to your question, yes. I do believe this will work. It must.”
Half an hour later, after engaging Mr. Bartell and the stableboy in a variety of duties, the three women made their way to the hotel where the Calarco men were seen registering. They rode in Aunt Marilla’s enclosed brougham with the shades pulled down. She assured the girls that no one would recognize her coach from any other as they had the cover of night and there were a bevy of wealthy folks who drove the same type of vehicle. The driver pulled to the side of the street nearly a block from the hotel. He reluctantly left the carriage and the women long enough to do as Chantel had instructed. After nearly fifteen minutes, he made his way back to the carriage.
“There is a back exit for freight and workers, as well as a fire escape,” he told Chantel. He explained the exact location, and Chantel made certain she understood before climbing down from the coach.
“You wait here, Aunt Marilla. Isabella and I will go to the hotel. If everything goes as planned, Issy and Orlando will join you shortly.”
“Be careful,” their aunt instructed as Isabella departed the brougham with the driver’s help.
“We will. Please pray for us,” Chantel replied.
She and Isabella hurried up the walkway to the hotel. Though her heart was racing like a steam locomotive, Chantel wasn’t about to give in to her fear. She would have only one chance.
Before reaching the registration desk, Chantel looked around the lobby for a place Isabella could hide. “That area over there by the large potted plant would afford some coverage,” she whispered. “Maybe you could wait there until I can get Dante to meet me. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get his room number and let you know what it is before he arrives. Then, while I have him occupied, you go upstairs and get Orlando. Sneak out the back, and Aunt Marilla will take you to her friends.”
“What of you?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Can you hide here?”
“I suppose so,” Isabella said, looking the area over. “I can squeeze in behind the larger chairs and duck down if I need to.”
Chantel nodded. “Let’s first see if we have the right hotel.”
She went to the registration desk and asked the clerk if she might see Mr. Dante Calarco. “I’m . . . family . . . and need to speak to him immediately. If you could send someone to his room and ask him to come down to the lobby, I’d be most grateful.” She pushed a coin across the desktop as her aunt had instructed her.
The clerk smiled and took the coin. “Mr. Dante Calarco has stepped out for a short time. If you would care to wait for him here, I don’t imagine he should be long.”
Chantel frowned. “And what of his brother?”
“He’s here in room 204. Should I send for him instead?”
“No, I’m here with his wife. We’ll go to meet him. Room 204, you said?”
The clerk nodded. “Just up the stairs and down the hall to the right.”
Chantel gave him a warm smile. “Please don’t say anything to Mr. Calarco when he returns. We want this to be a surprise.”
The clerk grinned. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, the night man will be taking over, and I won’t even be here. Your secret is safe.”
She hurried to where Isabella waited and motioned her to follow. “We haven’t much time, but the plan has changed. Come on.”
They hurried up the stairs and made their way to room 204. Chantel didn’t even pause before pounding on the hotel door.
“What are you doing here?” Orlando asked as he opened the door. Isabella threw herself into his arms.
“We have a plan,” Chantel declared. “I got you into this mess when I decided I needed to warn you, and now I’m going to help you fix it. In fact, with Dante gone, it makes this all the easier.”
Orlando gave her a look of disbelief. “And how do you plan to do it?”
She came into the room and noted the two small beds, the nightstands, and dresser. “Aunt Marilla has the coach waiting at the end of the street. We’ll go out the back way.”
“But my brother already knows where your aunt lives. He’ll just follow us there.”
“Ah, but we accounted for that. The coach is not going to take you back to the house; instead, Aunt Marilla arranged with friends to have you put aboard a freighter that’s heading out in just a matter of hours.”
“But Dante will be back any minute. There isn’t time for this.”
Chantel considered the matter. “Of course there is. I’ll go downstairs and stall Dante.”
Orlando looked at her with the most hopeless expression she’d ever seen on any man’s face. “It won’t work. The minute he sees you, he’ll be suspicious. If he sees that I’m missing, he’ll call in the police and anyone else he needs to hunt me down.”
Chantel wrung her hands and paced the few feet of hardwood floor between the two beds. Her gaze stopped on the rumpled covers; obviously Orlando had been stretched out atop them. An idea came to mind. It was risky, but it just might work.
“Then we won’t let him see that you’re missing.”
“What are you talking about, Chantel? We have to get away from here,” Isabella declared in a frantic tone.
“And so you shall. You and Orlando will go out the back way as we planned. I will take Orlando’s place here. If I climb in bed and cover myself from head to toe and pretend to be asleep when Dante returns, hopefully he won’t bother to check that it’s really Orlando.”
For the first time since they arrived, Orlando’s expression changed. “Maybe it will give us some additional time. Especially if you were to snore a bit. Dante says I often snore.”
Chantel laughed. “I can do that. I’ll imitate my father.” She gave a little snorting sound, and even Isabella smiled. “Just go. Go now.” She pushed them toward the door.
Orlando started to gather his few things, then stopped. “If I take my things he’ll know I’m gone.”
“Never mind that. You can buy what you need once you get to Chicago.”
“But I can’t. Dante took all of my money. All of the money you gave us.”
Chantel was undeterred. “Aunt Marilla has money for you. Don’t worry about it, just go.”
“Please, Orlando!” Isabella pled. “Please, let’s go now.”
With nothing
more to stop them, Orlando took what little he felt he could get away with and kissed Chantel on the cheek. “Thank you. I promise to take good care of Isabella. We’ll get word to you somehow.”
“Just write to Aunt Marilla. She can forward any letter to our mother.” Chantel pushed them from the room. “Now go. There isn’t much time.”
With the couple on their way, Chantel gave a quick look around the room. The little bed she would use was set up against the far wall. With any luck at all she could hide until Dante fell asleep and then sneak out of the room. She hadn’t really considered how she might get back to her aunt’s house after that, but she was certain the clerk could help her arrange for a carriage.
In quick order Chantel discarded her coat and bonnet and shoved them under the blanket of the bed. Leaving one small lamp lit in the opposite corner, she slipped in between the sheets fully dressed and pulled the bedding up over her head. She carefully pulled her skirts in close around her legs so that there would be no chance of them spilling out from beneath the covers, then turned on her side and faced the wall.
No sooner had Chantel settled down, feeling rather confident that nothing was amiss, than she heard someone at the door. Her heart skipped a beat and she fought to slow her breathing. Remembering what Orlando had said about snoring, Chantel tried to give a little muffled sound as the door opened.
“I see you decided to go to bed,” Dante said.
Chantel said nothing as fearful realization crept over her. What if Dante planned to talk to Orlando? What if he refused to let him sleep?
“I know you’re angry at me,” Dante continued. Chantel could hear him moving around the room and figured he was most likely getting ready for bed. The thought of Dante stripping down for bed made her feel even more uncomfortable. What had she gotten herself into?
“It doesn’t matter how mad you are,” Dante said. “It’s not my fault that our father can’t see his way through this. You and I both know, however, if he came back to find you gone, it would go much worse for you. For me, as well, since I had charge of keeping you under control.”
She heard the springs of the other bed groan. Apparently Dante had gotten into bed or at least was sitting on the side. She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.
Lord, she prayed, I know this is a game of deception, but even Rahab hid the Hebrew spies for the greater good. Lord, I truly believe this is the greater good. After all, Issy and Orlando are married, and no man should try to separate what you have joined. Please help me.
A moment later when the light went out, Chantel felt as if God himself were reassuring her. In the dark it would be even easier for Chantel to maintain the charade. Dante would go to sleep, and that would be that. But that wasn’t Dante’s idea.
“You know, since you aren’t talking, it gives me a chance to say a few things that have been on my mind. Mr. Panetta talked to me long and hard the other day about the foolishness of this feud. I’m beginning to see what he means. I told Nonna about what he said and how he’s determined to make peace with our father, and she said it was the right thing to do.
“I suppose that’s why she was so supportive of you marrying Isabella. But honestly, Orlando, you’re just nineteen. There’s no need to marry so young.” He paused and sighed. “I know the deed is done, however. Hopefully she doesn’t yet carry your child. That would be a terrible conflict.” He fell silent for a few moments, and Chantel bit her tongue to keep from commenting about children being a blessing and not a conflict.
“I truly feel that in time, we might be able to convince Papa to let go of his anger—at least where it has to do with you and Isabella. If you both return to Ely as if nothing has happened and live apart while we work on him, then perhaps in time he will accept the marriage. Or at least stop his threats of harm.”
Chantel wished Dante would stop talking and go to sleep. She was so weary from her own travels that she feared if she wasn’t careful, the comfort and warmth of the bed would lure her into an unconscious state. She couldn’t let that happen. Not only would Dante find out his brother was gone, but her reputation would be ruined.
Of course, if anyone finds out about this, it will be ruined anyway. She supposed she should have given her impetuous actions more thought. But now it was too late to worry about it. Thankfully, few people know me in this part of town.
“I don’t want you to think I don’t care about you, Orlando.” Dante’s voice sounded less angry, more brotherly. “You’re all I have left of Mama. I don’t think I ever told you that, but it’s true.
“When Mama died giving birth to you, I wanted to hate you, but I couldn’t. Mama had told me that you were a gift from God for all of us. Before you were born, she charged me to always look after you and see to your welfare. I suppose that’s why it was so important I find you. I know you think I’m against you, but really I’m not. I can see that you love Isabella. I can understand that you don’t care what anyone else thinks. Believe me, I understand.”
Chantel suppressed a yawn. She couldn’t help but feel a bit of tenderness for him as he spoke on and on of their childhood. It would have been so hard to grow up without Mama. Their mother was the very heart of their family. It had probably been the same for Dante’s family. No wonder Mr. Calarco was such a disagreeable man. Why, Papa himself might not be the same man without Mama. They might all be difficult and displeasing without Mama’s gentle spirit to guide them.
Dante woke to a bright stream of light flooding the room. He startled and jumped up from the bed, worried that he’d overslept. They had a train to catch. He checked his watch. There was still plenty of time.
“Orlando, wake up,” he called as he pulled on his trousers.
When there wasn’t even so much as a grunt from the bed, he shook his head. “Look, I don’t care if you talk to me or not, but get up. We have to make that train, and I’d like to have some breakfast first. If you don’t get up, I’m not going to feed you.”
Still his brother said nothing. Dante pulled his shirt on before going to his brother’s bed. “I’ll turn this mattress upside down on the floor and dump you out if need be.” He yanked back the covers and froze.
Beautiful black lashes fluttered open to reveal dark brown eyes—eyes that clearly did not belong to his brother.
Chapter 20
Marco Panetta sat listening as Judge Van Blarcom reiterated the details of what had happened to Jalo Gadd at the Fortune Hole. Marco had taken time off from the mine that morning in order to testify as to what had happened the night Leo had beaten the Finn and left him for dead. He’d come with the certainty that justice would prevail. Judge Van Blarcom was a good man and well liked in the community. But as the short hearing continued, Marco became less convinced of the outcome.
The situation soon felt hopeless. Marco was the only one who would step forward on behalf of the Finn. Gadd could remember very little of the night’s events, thanks to his head injuries. Marco was able to tell what he’d seen happen, but he, too, had to admit to having had several drinks. He related how he and his father and brother had gone searching for the Finn and found him deposited on the railroad tracks just as Fortino had ordered. His father and brother could attest to that, as well, if needed.
Leo, always two steps ahead of the law, had brought in at least a dozen witnesses who either stated that Marco was lying or that he had been too drunk to know what had actually happened. His reputation of drinking preceded him.
“I only had three drinks!” he declared at one point, jumping to his feet.
The judge pounded his gavel and demanded order. Marco had no choice but to sit back down or face contempt of court. Leo gave him a sneering smile, then turned back to his lawyer to whisper something. Afterward his lawyer rose.
“Your honor, I move that the charges be dismissed against my client.” A hush fell over the room and Marco was again tempted to shout out his protest. He held his tongue, however.
“It seems to me that the preponderanc
e of evidence suggests a misunderstanding brought on by the heavy imbibing of liquor,” the judge declared. “Additionally, it seems there is no one who can attest to actually seeing Mr. Gadd taken from the saloon and deposited on the railroad tracks, and without a witness, I see no reason to take the charges of attempted murder any further. We could perhaps further review the assault charges; however, by the testimony given, we know that both men were involved in fighting. Since Mr. Gadd has recovered from his injuries and Mr. Fortino from his, and with a lack of evidence to support anything further, I am inclined to agree. I am dismissing this case.” He pounded his gavel.
Marco felt a tightening in the pit of his stomach. Leo would have it out for him now. Deciding not to risk any possible encounter with his old friend, Marco slipped through the crowd and hurried back to the mine. He knew that work would be the only way to get his mind off his anger and fears. He spotted his father and Alfredo loading ore. He pulled on his gloves and joined them.
“So did they finally put Leo in jail?” Alfredo asked in a low voice so that the other men wouldn’t overhear.
“No. The case was dismissed. Fortino brought in a dozen witnesses who swore under oath that he had done nothing wrong. They even swore that Mr. Gadd had left the Fortune Hole under his own strength, and that if he had ended up on the railroad tracks as we said, it was because of his own drunkenness.”
“I feared that might be the case,” Papa replied. “The judge, he is a good man, but he must rule on the evidence brought forward.”
Marco shook his head. “Even if the evidence has been contrived by less than honorable men?” He didn’t bother to bring up the fact that his own reputation had been questioned.
“Nevertheless, you did the right thing,” Papa told him. “I am proud that you stood up for Mr. Gadd.”
Marco reached for a pick. “Knowing Leo, this won’t be the end of it.”
He worked alongside his father and brother in silence. There was no use explaining his fears of what Leo might do for retribution. His father and brother already knew of Leo’s reputation for getting back at folks who crossed him.
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