“You married Ronald even though you didn’t love him.”
“Exactly. What choice did I have?”
The entire truth dawned. Yancy was hard put to keep his jaw from dropping open. “So Richard is not—?”
“Not Ronald’s child.” She smiled, as if she found her revelation amusing. “Poor man, he never knew. I always intended to tell him, but from the day Richard was born, he made such a fool of himself bragging about his son, I couldn’t do it. I’m not entirely heartless, you know.” She leveled a piercing gaze at him. “Now I suppose you really are shocked.”
He wouldn’t lie to her. “Pretty much, yes.”
“Well, you may as well hear all of it.”
“There’s more?”
“Lots more.” She got a serious look on her face. “I spent ten miserable years living with a man I didn’t love. He’s gone now. It’s a shame and all that, but the truth is, as of two days ago, when Mr. Canfield read me your telegram, I have felt like a bird let loose from its cage. I’m still young and pretty. I have all his money now, and I’m free, free!” She swooped her hand through the air, nearly spilling the contents of her glass. “Not that I’ve been deprived of companionship. Reggie is madly in love with me, and I with him. I’m spreading my wings, Yancy. In three days, we leave for New York. From there we’ll sail to Europe. They call it the grand tour, and grand it will be. London, Paris, Amsterdam! I plan to see it all.” She sat back, a gleam of defiance in her eye. “So what do you think?”
He could hardly believe this woman. Poor Ronald, living in a fool’s paradise, never knowing the truth, which was probably for the best. “What about the children?”
“They’ll be fine. Mrs. O’Brien will be here. Between her, the maids, and the cook they’ll get plenty of attention. And Richard has his private school, of course. For which Ronald paid a fortune, I might add, so I can’t see a problem.”
“When will you be back?”
“I have no idea.” She set her glass down and earnestly bent forward. “I’ve done my duty, Yancy. You can condemn me if you want, but frankly, I’ve never had a great love in my heart for my children. From the day he was born, I’ve resented Richard because he ruined my life. When I look at Beth, I see Ronald. They look very much alike, you know. Same eyes, same chin. I just can’t bring myself to love her like I should.”
He had thought nothing could shock him anymore, but that was before he met Bernice. What could he say? No sense trying to dissuade her, she’d made up her mind. Nor would he stand in judgment. At least Ronald never knew, he’d give her that. “I’m glad you told me, Bernice. At least you were honest.”
She looked pleased and said, “I suppose you want to go home as soon as the funeral is over, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.” She fluttered her eyelids at him. “I’m so glad you understand.”
He did not understand, would never understand a woman like this. Before he joined the Union Army, there’d been a girl he was interested in, but he never knew her well enough to learn why women did what they did, and he still didn’t know. He hurt for his brother. Ronald had known some of the truth about Bernice, but at least had never known the extent of his wife’s trickery and deception. Yancy stood and looked down at her. “Good night, Bernice. You’ve made your mind up, and I wish you well.”
He had reached his room and shut the door before he asked himself, What do I do now?
* * * *
Belle had managed to unbutton half the small satin buttons when Rosa, flowers in her hair, all dressed up in a pink satin gown, burst in. “Are you ready? Mama and Roberto have already left for the restaurant. Marco and I will bring you and—” Her lips parted in surprise. “Why are you taking your dress off?”
“I’m not going to marry him.”
Rosa gasped and slapped her hand to her mouth.
“I don’t have time to talk. Can you help me with these buttons?”
“But… But… What are you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Now please come help me.”
At least Rosa had sense enough to look into the hallway, peer both ways, and close the door. Looking thunderstruck, she took over the unbuttoning. “Have you lost your mind? I can’t believe I’m doing this. Do you realize the guests are already arriving? The flowers, the French champagne, the lobster. All those porterhouse steaks! Roberto’s there waiting. Oh, dear God, he’s going to be furious.”
She’d try to explain. Of them all, Rosa was most likely to understand. “You think I don’t know how awful this is? After you’ve all gone to so much trouble? But I just can’t marry him, that’s all. I’ve made up my mind. Nothing can change it, so don’t even try.”
An expression of understanding spread over Rosa’s face. “You don’t have to explain. I wouldn’t want to marry him, either.”
“You wouldn’t?”
“He’s a horrible man. All right, that’s the last button. Let’s get your dress off, quick.” As Belle pulled the dress over her head, Rosa asked, “What will you wear?”
The brown wool suit she’d worn on the train was the handiest. At least she’d given it a good brushing and had a fresh blouse to wear. While she dressed, Rosa asked, “What are you planning?”
Belle could almost laugh. “I haven’t quite figured that out yet. I suppose I should go to the restaurant. Somehow I could get Roberto aside and tell him the wedding’s off. That would be the honorable thing to do.”
“No! You can’t do that. Don’t you understand what kind of man he is? You’ve wounded his pride. You’d be lucky if he doesn’t kill you.”
“Then I’ll just go.”
Rosa nodded emphatically. “You’ve got to get out of here, and the sooner the better.”
“I’ve made a mess of things.”
“Don’t worry about that now.” Rosa cast an urgent glance around the room. “What do you need?”
“I can’t take the trunk. Maybe I can send for it later.”
Rosa laughed. “Knowing Roberto, I wouldn’t count on it.”
“I’ll just take my handbag and my valise then. I have money enough. I’m going to pay him back for the train fare.”
“Why should you bother? He’ll still be furious.”
“Even so. It’s the honorable thing to do.” She opened her valise. She’d been keeping the two hundred dollars Bridger gave her in a side pocket. She dug it out, took three twenty-dollar notes, and set them on Roberto’s dresser. Thank goodness, that left plenty for her fare home and other expenses. “Now I feel better.”
“Roberto won’t. You must hurry.”
What to take? She hated to leave her new dresses behind but had no choice. That was the least of her worries, even though Rosa was right, and she had little chance of ever seeing her trunk and its contents again. She ended up packing her valise with only the essentials: a change of underwear, clean blouse, brush and comb, and some handkerchiefs. “Do you know of any good hotels?” she asked. “Nothing too expensive.”
“You could stay at the Baldwin Hotel. It’s not too expensive, and there’s a horse car you can catch a block away that will take you right to it.”
She could do it! Thanks to Rosa, everything was falling into place and she could actually see her way clear of this awful predicament she was in. She wasn’t out of trouble yet, but at least she could see her path of escape. If all went well, she’d be long gone before Roberto discovered she’d fled. But what if he did and she wasn’t gone yet? Just thinking of it caused an icy fear to twist around her heart. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
“Yes, you do,” Rosa said. “When you’re ready to go downstairs, I’ll go down first and make sure nobody’s in sight. We’ve got to be careful, though. Marco’s still here, down in the kitchen, I think, and I don’t know who else. You can’t let anybody see you.” She stepped back and scrutinized Belle with a sharp eye. “Don�
��t you have a wrap? This is San Francisco. You’re not going to be warm enough if you’re out at night.”
Belle shook her head. This was the middle of summer, and she hadn’t thought to bring a coat.
“Come to my room, and I’ll find you something.” Rosa opened the bedroom door. There, suspiciously close, stood Giana’s unlikeable son, Bruno. She scowled at him and asked, “What are you doing lurking in the hallway? Were you spying on us?”
The boy got a sour grin on his face. “No, I wasn’t, Aunt Rosa. I’d never do that.” He looked over Rosa’s shoulder and spied Belle. “Weren’t you wearing your wedding dress a while ago? How come you’re not wearing it now?” His gaze fell to the valise sitting in the middle of the bedroom floor. His mouth dropped open. “Are you leaving? Does Uncle Roberto know?”
Rosa pointed a warning finger at her nephew. “You’re to keep your mouth shut. Don’t you dare tell your uncle. Do you understand?”
With a sense of urgency, Belle laid a hand on Rosa’s arm. “Let it go. There isn’t time. Let’s get that wrap.”
Rosa wagged her finger one more time at Bruno. “You heard me. You’d better keep your mouth shut or you’ll have me to deal with. Now wait downstairs. You can come to the restaurant with Marco and me.”
They hurried to Rosa and Marco’s bedroom where Rosa found a wool shawl. Belle threw it over her shoulders. When they stepped into the hallway again, Bruno was gone. Rosa snorted with disgust. “That sneaky little weasel is going to tattle to Roberto. I doubt he’s waiting downstairs and is probably halfway to the restaurant by now. You’ve got to go now, Belle.”
As if Belle needed to be told. Her heart was pounding as she returned to Roberto’s bedroom and picked up her valise. She took one more look at this room that would have been hers and Roberto’s for the next, who knew? Maybe fifty years? She cringed at the thought. No question she’d made the right decision, but no time to think of it now. She left the bedroom and fairly flew down the stars. “I hope I haven’t got you into trouble,” she said to Rosa, who stood by the front door.
“You let me worry about that.” Rosa opened her arms and gave her a big hug. “I’ll be thinking of you and hoping you’re all right. When you get home, be sure to write.” She pointed toward the bay. “You walk one block that way, and that’s where you’ll find the horse car. It costs a dime.”
“Wish me luck, Rosa, and thank you.” Carrying her valise, Belle started walking. A mist was falling. It was turning dark. The guests would all be at the restaurant by now. They’d be laughing and talking, drinking that specially ordered champagne, waiting for the big moment when the bride would arrive and the ceremony would begin. Her heart ached when she thought how hurt and disappointed Mama would be when she realized her about-to-be daughter-in-law had fled. The rest of the family, too, except Roberto. Rosa was right. Belle had only caught a glimpse of his temper when she’d looked into his cold eyes, but she’d seen enough to know if she stayed, she would have regretted it for the rest of her life. She would go directly to the Baldwin Hotel. Maybe they’d have a restaurant, so she wouldn’t need to go out again. Tomorrow she’d find where to buy her train ticket and how soon she could leave. Very soon, she hoped. She didn’t like paying for a hotel any longer than she had to. How very satisfying to know she had a plan, and everything was falling neatly into place.
She reached a street with a set of tracks running along the middle. This must be where she’d catch the horse car. She looked down the street. Here it came, two horses pulling what looked pretty much like a Savannah streetcar. She looked behind her, picturing Roberto racing toward her, hands outstretched, ready to strangle her. No one coming. The horse car stopped. She climbed on board, dug in her handbag, and dropped a dime in the coin box. As she took her seat, her heart lifted. He couldn’t catch her now. Fortune was shining upon on her, and she’d soon be home. She thought of Yancy and what could have been. He was somewhere in this city. Maybe she should try to find him, but this was hardly the time. All she wanted was to get home to her beloved Savannah, but maybe later on, somehow she’d find him again.
* * * *
Yancy sat by his mother’s bedside. She was gone. “Gone to a better place,” she whispered in her last moments, and he believed it. If anyone deserved to go to heaven, it was Mother.
Miss Willoughby, the nurse, stood by. “I’m so sorry, Mr. McLeish,” she said. “I’ve never worked for a finer woman. She didn’t want a big funeral, you know, not like”—she tipped her head toward the door—“all that fancy business downstairs. Just say a few words over her grave, she said, and that will be enough.”
“Yes, simple is best.” Ronald was gone. Mother was gone. A grief, the likes of which he never felt before, hit him hard. He thought of Belle, what a comfort she’d been on the train, how he would have wanted her to be here. But she could be married already, starting her new life. By now she’d forgotten his name. A burst of laughter came from below. Ronald’s funeral. He would go downstairs for one reason only—to honor his brother. The rest of them could all go to hell, as far as he was concerned. Nothing was keeping him from going home now except the children.
Chapter 12
Just what she wanted. Located at Powell and Market Streets, the four-story Baldwin Hotel had a respectable look about it without appearing to be overly expensive. Carrying her valise, Belle stepped inside a large lobby filled with tasteful furniture, potted palms, and oil paintings on the walls. She walked to the front desk and spoke to a thin, balding man in his forties, neatly dressed, who peered at her through a monocle. He gave her a thin-lipped smile. “Yes, madam?”
She didn’t like the quizzical way he was looking at her. Had a woman alone never asked for a room before? Did he think she was one of those women who earned her living on the streets? “I’d like a room for one, please.”
He stared down his nose at her. “For how long?”
She lifted her chin and stared right back. “It would be for one or two nights. Perhaps more, but I’m not sure.”
“Hmm, let’s see. We’re almost full.” He gave a reluctant shrug and spent some time perusing something behind the counter, a list of rooms she assumed. She suspected he was trying to decide whether or not to turn her away, but finally he took a key from the rows of cubbyholes behind him and placed it on the counter. “I can give you room 334.”
“That’s fine.”
“We’ll need the first night in advance. That’ll be one dollar and fifty cents.”
“Of course.” She had at least two dollar bills in her handbag, more than enough. She opened it and peered inside. Where were they? Had she put them in her coin purse? She checked but the bills weren’t there, only a few coins. She thought she had more than that, but apparently not. “Just a moment.” She bent, opened the valise, and dipped her hand into the side pocket where she’d placed the remaining $140. Empty? How could that be? She distinctly remembered carefully folding the seven twenty-dollar notes together and placing them in that very side pocket. Somehow they must have slipped out. “Excuse me, this will take a minute,” she told the clerk. She picked up the valise and walked to an upholstered, wing-backed armchair where she set it on the seat and opened it wide.
The money was nowhere in sight and must have somehow slipped toward the bottom. She started digging through her belongings. Nothing. Up to this moment, she hadn’t been concerned, but a sudden unease seized her. Where had her money gone? She picked up the valise, dumped its contents into the chair, and pulled another chair close. She picked up each item she’d packed, examined it carefully, and placed it in the other chair. That way, she couldn’t possibly miss anything. By the time she reached the bottom of the valise, anxiety griped her heart. The seven twenty-dollar notes she’d so counted on had disappeared. Aware of what a futile gesture it was, she ran her hands across every inch of the bottom, up the sides, into the side pocket she already knew was empty.
It
’s gone. My money is gone.
But how did it happen? Clearly she remembered taking three twenty-dollar notes from the two hundred and leaving them on Roberto’s dresser. The rest she’d put back in the side pocket, she was sure of it, and the only time the valise was out of her sight was when she went to Rosa’s room to get the shawl. So who…?
Bruno.
He’d been standing in the hallway, no doubt snooping. Rosa had referred to him as “that sneaky little weasel,” and how right she was. He would have had just enough time to look in her valise and take her money. Had he stolen from her handbag, too? He probably had and could even have taken the sixty dollars she left on the dresser for Roberto. She would never know, though. She’d burned her bridges and could never go back. So what was she going to do? Without money, she couldn’t buy food, couldn’t pay for her train fare, couldn’t pay for her room.
“Madam?” the hotel clerk called. With dragging feet, she returned to the counter. He’d tilted his brow and looked at her inquiringly. “Well? I can’t hold the room forever.”
“I…I …” She would throw herself on his mercy. She couldn’t think what else to do. “It seems my money has been stolen. I didn’t discover it until now. Would it be possible? What I mean is, could I pay you later? I’m from Savannah and could send you the money as soon as I get home. I’m good for it, I assure you. It’s just at the moment I find myself without funds.”
“Pay later?” The clerk compressed his lips as if trying to keep from smiling. “We don’t extend credit to anyone. Sorry, it’s the rule of the house.”
He didn’t look sorry. “Oh, I see,” she murmured. The tempting sight of the key still lying on the counter added to her despair. She had so counted on that room. It would have been her refuge, a place where she could walk in, lock the door, and feel safe from Roberto and the world, at least for a little while. She could try again to persuade the clerk, but it was plain to see he wouldn’t bend, and she’d only further humiliate herself. She stood straight and pulled her shoulders back, assuming all the dignity she could muster. “Then I don’t want the room.” She stepped away before he could answer and returned to the chair where her belongings sat in a pile for the world to see. Hastily, she repacked them in the valise. Feeling the clerk’s eyes drilling into her back, she picked it up and was about to walk out the door when the clerk called out, “Why don’t you try Western Union? They’ve got a new service now. Someone in Savannah could wire you some money.”
Bay City Belle Page 12
