by Holly Bush
* * *
“How very well you look, all things considered,” Lenora Gladfoote said as she kissed Jolene’s cheeks. “I want you to know that you have Martin and my deepest sympathy. I do not know how you have borne it all.”
“Thank you,” Jolene replied. “I’ve had Cook lay out some nibbles in the sunroom rather than a formal luncheon if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not!” Lenora said as she hooked her arm through Jolene’s. “That sounds like just the place for us to chat.”
“Tell me what has been done in preparation for the Guild’s Christmas Ball? I have been bereft of my duties as chairwoman,” Jolene said after they had filled small plates and seated themselves on flowered settees.
“Hardly, Jolene,” Lenora said. “No one expects you to continue on this year, especially with such a heavy heart. Vivian has offered, of course, to take over the chairwoman’s seat, but as I’m sure you are aware, once she has it, you will never get it back. Best to allow me to fill in for you this year.”
Jolene did not reply. Her public persona of a grieving widow conflicted with her true feelings. It had not occurred to her that she would not chair the Ball to its conclusion. “Perhaps you can take some of the workload from me. I will muddle through as best as I can and hold Vivian off at the same time.”
“Brilliant!” Lenora said. “What shall I do?”
The two women talked for an hour about the details of the Ball until Lenora called for her carriage and stood to leave.
“Let me know what you want to do about the Europe trip,” Lenora said as she pulled on her gloves. “You will be not quite out of mourning, but who will know once we are in France? But perhaps this is something you cannot bear to do alone or without Turner, although I doubt that, but still the ship sails in just three months.”
Jolene had met Lenora Smithy Gladfoote at the Ramsey School for Young Ladies when they were twelve years old. They had been fast friends immediately, and within a short amount of time had many of the young girls in their class, and even classes ahead of them, doing exactly as they told them to do. Lenora’s family did not have the type of wealth that the Crawfords did but she had married the investment advisor to Andrew Carnegie. She was Jolene’s closest, and perhaps, her only friend. There was no way Jolene could keep her change in fortune a secret from Lenora.
“I may not be doing our European holiday,” Jolene said.
“Oh. I am so sorry. I’ve been insensitive. Of course, you will need time to feel yourself again.”
“That is not it.”
“I know you are not fond of the Cartwrights, but they will be doing whatever it is they wish to do, and you will spend as much or as little an amount of time with Martin and me as you wish.”
“I am not overly fond of Felicity Cartwright, but that is not it either. Do sit down for a few more moments, Lenora. I must speak to you about something,” Jolene said.
Lenora sat down beside her. “What is it, my dear?”
“Turner’s will did not read as most would have expected it to.”
“Really?” Lenora said with a frown.
Jolene took a deep breath. “The bulk of the estate was settled on my youngest sister, Jillian.”
“Jillian? Isn’t she the one living with Julia on some God-forsaken prairie?”
“Yes,” Jolene said. She had no intentions of sharing that family secret with anyone. “And I have no idea why he did it.”
“What does it all mean?” Lenora asked. Her eyes opened wide. “How has he provided for you?”
“I very well may not have the means to tour Europe for a month. I’m meeting with my man of business tomorrow morning,” Jolene said.
“Well, Martin will be happy to finance your trip. All you must do is say.”
Jolene shook her head. “No. I believe this will require a significant change in my lifestyle, I’m sorry to say. I have no intentions of borrowing money I have no way of repaying, although it is very sweet of you to say.”
Lenora looked away uncomfortably. “You know how hard it is for us to talk about anything as crass as money. Let me know, of course, if there is anything that we can do.”
Jolene rose and Lenora followed her to the door. They kissed each other’s cheeks, and Lenora said, “Do not become overly worried or discouraged. Perhaps everything will work out in the end and all will be the same as it always has.”
Jolene nodded. “Perhaps.”
Chapter Three
December 1891
Jolene walked through the Parker House hotel lobby to the entrance to the dining rooms. This was one of her favorite places. She loved the elegance of the Persian rugs and the high-backed, tufted leather chairs and the artwork on the walls. It felt like Landonmore. The staff was attentive without being cloying, and she was known here. She and Turner had dined here on many occasions as guests of business associates and others, such as the Governor, Oliver Ames. As she approached the entrance, the maître d came to her.
“Mrs. Crenshaw. How delighted we are to see you,” he said quietly. “Will you be dining with us today, ma’am?”
No matter that it was highly unusual for a woman to be in a hotel lobby alone, even midday, and still in mourning, he had come out from behind his post and greeted her before she would be standing alone in an entry way with all the diners to see her. She rewarded him with a rare smile. “I am glad to see you as well, James. I’ll be dining alone.”
“Certainly, Mrs. Crenshaw. Allow me to show you to your table.”
Heads turned as Jolene made her way through the dining room. She wondered if they stared because her dress, with its cinched waist and elegant embroidery, was stylish and beautiful, even being the blackest black fabric the seamstress could find and made her fair skin and blonde hair stand out in stark contrast. Or that some of them had attended the Guild Ball and heard the rumors about her.
Just as she was seated and the waiter handed the starched linen napkin to her, she heard a familiar voice and looked up. Calvin Billings was seated at a table nearby.
“Mr. Fellows has sent me a note saying he will not be able to join me after all, so I’ll be ordering straight away,” he said to the waiter. As he spoke he looked directly at Jolene. He smiled and nodded. “Mrs. Crenshaw.”
“Mr. Billings,” she replied with a nod. Without thinking, perhaps because she was feeling a bit wounded from events of late, she continued. “I’ve just been seated, Mr. Billings. If you haven’t ordered, perhaps you’d care to join me.”
Calvin Billings held her gaze, folded his newspaper, and came to her table. “Thank you, Mrs. Crenshaw. I’m not fond of eating alone.” The waiter took their order and left. “How are you doing, Jolene?” Calvin asked.
“If you are wondering why I’m eating at the Parker House by myself, you may just come out and ask.”
Calvin chuckled. “I’ve long ago stopped asking my wife why she does what she does, as she just looks at me as if I’m the stupidest person in Boston. And you may be in no mood to be questioned by an attorney. If I am right, you have had your fill of attorneys and bookkeepers during the month since I saw you last.”
“You are right about that much, Calvin. I have had my fill.”
“You are looking well, though, and considering all, that is a triumph,” Calvin said as began to eat his soup.
“I am exhausted, truth be told,” she said. She had no idea why this man brought out confidences from within her. But he did. She trusted him, which was an odd thought. She didn’t wonder about his motives or if he was manipulating her in some way. She believed Calvin and Eugenia to be the oddity amongst Boston society. They were sincere.
“Hardly surprising with your father’s investigations of Turner’s will. It’s difficult to put it behind you, I imagine,” he said.
Jolene looked up at him. “I’m not sure I will ever put it behind me, Calvin. I’m not sure others will let me.”
“What are your advisors telling you?”
“My man of busi
ness, Mr. Dentraub, is telling me to sell Landonmore immediately. The cost for staff and upkeep is nearly twelve-thousand dollars a month. My father is telling me that he will yet find a way to recover my fortune, or at least half my fortune; however, Mr. Harton has informed me privately that there is little to be done.”
“Mr. Harton is correct, Jolene. It is very unlikely that Turner’s will would be over-turned and could take years in court. Have you seen any alternatives to Landonmore?”
“Father is paying the bills for the time being, but I do not like the arrangement. I have asked Mr. Dentraub to find a smaller residence for me. He has recommended I look for something that will only require three or four staff members to manage it, as opposed to the thirty-five necessary to keep Landonmore running. Perhaps with just six or seven bedrooms. It will be quite a change for me as I went directly from Willow Tree to Landonmore.” Jolene leaned forward. “Do they name homes that have only six or seven bedrooms? Or will I just reside at a street number?”
“We shall see, won’t we? You do know that there will be monies available for the expenses of your move?”
“Yes,” Jolene said. “Apparently Turner anticipated my reduction in means in detail to specify that amount of money for just that event.”
“What will you do with the New York house?”
“I’m hoping to keep it,” Jolene said. She looked up at Calvin. “I have such wonderful memories of young William there that I hate to see another family living in it. Although I suppose I will sell it if necessary.”
Calvin nodded and then brightened. “Eugenia and I were unable to attend last week’s Guild Ball but heard it was another rousing success. No doubt due to your guidance that you selflessly gave during this upsetting time.”
Jolene laid down her fork and smiled tightly. “Really, Calvin? Was this entire conversation meant to gather more gossip of my fall from grace?”
“What do you mean?” he said. “My apologies if I’ve upset you, but I truly do not know what you mean.”
Jolene took a deep breath. After all, she was the one to invite Calvin to have luncheon with her, and it was doubtful that he and Eugenia were privy to the same gossip as the rest of her and Turner’s crowd. But still, the mention of it stung. “Perhaps I spoke too soon. There was, you see, a report that filtered through the Guild Ball’s guests concerning Turner’s will and my portion of it.” She looked up and smiled. “At first, I could not understand the strained conversations and long silences in my company, and truthfully thought that perhaps some were just uncomfortable with the whole idea of death and therefore did not know what to say to a widow so close in age to themselves. But I overheard a conversation where it all became plain to me. They did not know what to say to one of their own who was suddenly destitute. By the end of the evening, I was convinced they thought my poverty may rub off on them if we stood too closely.”
“I certainly hope that you know that all of our dealings were in the strictest confidences.”
She nodded. “This was of my own making, Calvin. I told my oldest, and who I thought was my dearest friend, of my changed circumstances. She wasted no time spreading this information. In fact, that is the reason I am here today. The Guild Society women are here at the Parker House for the annual after-the-ball meeting to elect the next chair. I’m hoping to time my exit to pass my oldest and dearest friend, Lenora Gladfoote, and be able to congratulate her on her election as the Guild Ball chairwoman.”
Calvin smiled wryly. “Et tu, Brute?”
Calvin’s joke had made the scheme she had repeated so often to herself and planned so seriously to seem silly and, maybe, beneath her. “Well, I must be going,” she said as she stood. “Thank you for a lovely afternoon. Please send Eugenia my best wishes.”
Calvin stood and took her outstretched hand. “It was my pleasure.”
* * *
Mr. Dentraub had just left, and Jolene sat behind her desk, sketches of three homes laid out in front of her. They were terribly small by Landonmore standards, but one, in particular, she was fond of although it had a major drawback. It was not in Boston proper, which would make it difficult for her to regain her standing amongst her social set. She leaned back in her chair and paused. She had thought and rethought this until she did not know what to do. Did she want to regain her old life and all its routines? Could she regain that life? Would she have the income for the wardrobes and the entertaining required to restore her respectability amongst her peers?
One solution had presented itself a few days before when Mr. Abrams had called on her and asked her to marry him. He was thirty years older than she and had long ago lost his teeth. He had made his money, loads of money, in the railroads, but he’d never shed his rough edges from when he began as a coal boy in his youth, and therefore had not been able to fit into Boston society. He was certain an alliance between the two of them would solve both of their problems. She would have access to his considerable wealth, and he would have Jolene to propel him into the inner circles. And he found her most attractive.
She thanked him for his offer, and with a steely countenance withheld her repulsion of his person. After all, it may be necessary for her to sacrifice herself to a marriage again, in order to regain what she’d lost. She was to give her answer to him in five days.
But did she want it anymore? Did she want her life back enough to accept Mr. Abrams? Jolene did not know the answer to those questions, and if she did not want it, then what did she want? For certain, she wished she were miles and miles away and able to begin again. Oh, to be twenty and know what she knew now.
Her butler opened the door to the morning room. “Mr. and Mrs. Billings are inquiring if you are at home, ma’am?”
“Show them in.” She stood when they came in the room, wondering why they would be visiting her now. Her luncheon with Calvin had been weeks ago. “Please. Have a seat. Have refreshments brought in, Fitz.”
Calvin Billings was a conservative-looking man of medium height and build with thinning hair. His wife, Eugenia, was taller, and wider as well, and was quite the flamboyant dresser. They made for an odd-looking couple, one which she and Lenora had joked about many times over the years.
“Thank you for seeing us,” Calvin said and looked at Eugenia.
“Oh yes,” she said in her high-pitched voice. “Thank you for seeing us.”
They exchanged pleasantries, and Eugenia admired Jolene’s choices in furniture and decorations. Finally Calvin said, “Eugenia has something to discuss with you. Although I believe it is a fool’s errand.”
She had a thousand details to attend to, including making up her mind about her future, but Calvin had been kind to her twice, so she tamped down her impatience and turned her attention to Eugenia.
“Well,” Eugenia said. “I have a brother, you see, who lives in Texas. His name is Maximillian Shelby. We call him Max, of course.” She faltered and looked at her husband.
“Go ahead, Eugenia,” Calvin said. “I promised I would bring you, but I told you I wouldn’t be part of this scheme of yours.”
“My father is a successful business man and was able to stake Max when he moved to Texas. Max has done well for himself, very well, in fact. His ranch and oil fields are some of the most prosperous in the whole state but has not spent much time in Dallas society. He is considering running for a state-wide political office, but he doesn’t feel he has the connections to do so.”
“And his wife?” Jolene asked. “She is unable to help him in this regard?”
“Max is a widow. His wife died over ten years ago.”
Jolene felt a shiver trail down her arms. “Why are you here, Eugenia?”
“Max is looking for a wife. There are very few single women, and none he feels he could marry. He asked me if I knew of anyone who might be interested in moving to Texas,” Eugenia said in a rush and then added, “Perhaps for a fresh start.”
Jolene raised her brows. “And you thought I may be interested?”
Calvin
stood. “Come along, Eugenia. I told you this was a bad idea. I’m sorry to have bothered you, Jolene.”
“How old is your brother?” Jolene asked.
Eugenia sat forward on her chair and Calvin sat back down. “He is forty and a kind, hard-working man like my father.”
“Exactly how wealthy is your brother-in-law?” Jolene asked Calvin.
“Wealthier than Martin Gladfoote.”
“And you thought I would be able to gain him entrance to Dallas society? With a Boston pedigree?”
Eugenia nodded. “Oh, yes. Max says that even though Texans are very proud of themselves, they all look east when it comes to fashion and trends. Calvin and I visited Max just a few years ago and were treated like royalty!”
Jolene looked at Calvin.
“She’s right. They were deferential to be sure.”
“There’s his daughter, too, my niece Melinda, to consider as well. Max says her come-out will be attended by his cook and ranch hands if he doesn’t do something soon,” Eugenia said.
Jolene sat quietly and contemplated her alternatives. “Would you arrange for your brother-in-law and me to exchange some telegraphs, Calvin? Tomorrow or the next day, if possible.” She turned to Eugenia. “Have you communicated to him your impression of me?”
“Yes,” Eugenia said hesitantly. “I have. I have told him that you seemed to be an unhappy and sometimes bitter person, but that you have had crosses to bear.”
Jolene smiled. “Well said, Eugenia. And he is still interested?”
“Max is not looking for a love affair. He loved and mourned Melinda’s mother deeply. His home is certainly large enough for you to live together but rarely meet. He is interested in exploring politics and knows he must gain entry to the good homes somehow, which I believe you could provide. And Max is willing to settle twenty million dollars in your name only, aside from whatever you would need to update the Hacienda or launch Melinda or outfit yourself.”
