The Pursuit of Lucy Banning,A Novel (Avenue of Dreams)

by Newport, Olivia

  Charlotte appeared to remove the soup bowls. Something in Lucy inclined her to try to catch the maid’s eye, but she restrained herself. It was the girl’s first day, after all. It would not bode well if Penard perceived she did not achieve the goal of being smoothly unnoticed in her service.

  Roast pork and potatoes came next, followed by baby carrots and the cranberry-walnut salad. By the time the baked apples appeared, conversation had turned to the coming World’s Columbian Exposition, a topic of common interest.

  “I understand from Leo that your family is quite involved in the fair,” Will said.

  “My father is on the board of directors,” Lucy offered. “It’s been quite a consuming task.”

  “I can only imagine the challenges,” Will said. “Mr. Banning, I would be interested to hear what has been the most pressing issue in presenting the fair to the world.”

  “Ferris,” Samuel said.

  “Sir?”

  “George Ferris,” Samuel said. “A young engineer. He has some wild idea about building an enormous wheel that would take people in cars around the circle.”

  “That sounds fascinating!” Will and Lucy spoke simultaneously.

  Samuel rolled his eyes. “The engineers and architects at the Saturday Afternoon Club think he’s out of his mind. They say it can’t be done. I am neither engineer nor architect, but if anyone were to be injured on such a contraption, the legal ramifications would be enormous.”

  Will looked thoughtful, forgetting about his baked apple for the moment. “What a feat that would be! I haven’t seen the plans, of course, but I imagine it calls for some elements of physics that have not been tested in the general population.”

  Leo jumped in. “As a machine engineer, I would love to see those plans. People have got to understand that the future of machines is going to break new ground in all aspects of life.”

  “Perhaps I’ll arrange for the two of you to inspect the plans,” Samuel said. “The committee has not yet made any final decision.”

  Will nodded. “I’d be honored, sir, even if only to satisfy my own curiosity about how Mr. Ferris would support such a structure architecturally.”

  Flora pushed away her empty dessert plate. “I heard the White Star Line is planning to exhibit at the fair. Lucy, that would be a lovely opportunity for you and Daniel to plan a honeymoon sea voyage to Europe on an exquisite ship.”

  Lucy smiled politely. “We haven’t even set the wedding date, Mother. Daniel and I have not discussed the honeymoon yet.” She turned to Will. “Mr. Edwards, will you be attending the fair’s dedication next week?”

  “I hadn’t thought about it,” he answered.

  “Oh, you must come,” Leo urged. “The fair won’t open until spring, unfortunately, but the dignitaries are going ahead with the ceremony next Friday in spite of the delays. Your firm is involved. I’m sure they’ll be represented in the crowd.”

  “I will make a point to inquire.”

  Lucy hoped Will’s enthusiasm was genuine.

  “Father is not the only one who has been busy with the fair. Lucy has been involved in the women’s exhibit,” Leo said.

  Will turned to Lucy. “I’m delighted to hear that. I’m pleased to know there will be a special hall dedicated to the achievements of women.”

  Lucy brightened. “Perhaps you’ve heard of the architect for our building. Sophia Hayden is the first female graduate of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology with qualifications in architecture.”

  “I have heard of her,” Will responded. “She was barely out of college when she won the competition to get the commission.”

  “Just twenty-two years old,” Lucy said. Only a year older than I am. What do I have to show for myself?

  “Lucy has time for such things now,” Flora said, “but she may be a married woman by the time the fair opens.”

  “Married or not, I will fulfill my commitment,” Lucy said.

  “And what is your commitment to the women’s exhibit, may I ask?” Will said.

  “Nothing very exciting, I’m afraid,” Lucy responded. “The women who are contributing to the exhibit are true artists. The best I have to offer is to help with correspondence and practical arrangements.”

  “That is a gift as well,” Will commented. “Many people would be overwhelmed with such a task.”

  “In truth it’s simply a matter of being persistent,” Lucy said, “and keeping track of the details.”

  Flora spoke. “It’s a skill that will come in handy when you finally begin planning your own wedding.”

  Lucy lifted her eyes and glanced around the table. “Perhaps we should have our coffee in the parlor.”

  Samuel scooted his chair back. “You have my vote.” He glanced at Penard, who stood against one wall, and the butler stiffly turned toward the parlor to arrange service.

  As the family and their guest rose and began to drift toward the parlor, Charlotte appeared and began clearing away the last of the dishes. Lucy watched in her peripheral vision as the young maid stacked dishes—and as a dessert plate escaped her grasp and tumbled to the floor. Lucy winced on Charlotte’s behalf and turned ever so slightly to see the outcome. Thick carpet under the table prevented any serious damage, and Penard stepped over to both help with the plates and scold the maid.

  The incident did not escape Samuel’s notice. “I hope Penard knows what he’s doing hiring that girl,” he muttered.

  “It’s just nerves,” Lucy speculated. “It’s her first day.”

  Lucy paused long enough to see Penard shoo Charlotte toward the kitchen. The starched white apron disappeared behind doors to the butler’s pantry that Lucy rarely transgressed. Lucy had seen servants come and go over the years—most of the lower-level servants didn’t last two years before moving on—but something about Charlotte tugged at Lucy. If Charlotte had been a girl at the orphanage, Lucy would have followed her to be sure she was all right. However, she could count on one hand the times she had been in the Banning kitchen. Even her mother rarely went through those doors.

  “Miss Banning? Are you coming?”

  Lucy turned to Will’s cobalt eyes and irresistible—I must resist—dimpled cheek. “Yes, of course.”

  7

  If not for the grace of alertness pulsed by anxiety, Charlotte would have been unconscious. Henry had, predictably, been wide awake much of the night, and Charlotte didn’t dare let him feel even a moment’s discomfort lest he cry. The walls were thin on the servants’ floor, demanding she anticipate his every need and satisfy it before he had reason to protest. Catnaps were all she could hope for. She tended to his wriggling in the shadows of the moon for fear that turning on the electric light, or even lighting a candle, would attract the attention of an insomniac—or nosey—neighbor. With each rousing Charlotte glanced out the window to judge how soon the morning light would break. Knowing she must be up and ready to work before sunlight, she fed the baby freely in the predawn hours to begin another day of hoping, praying, he would stay full enough to sleep and the other servants would have little reason to be upstairs during the day. When she heard Mrs. Fletcher stirring in the room next door, Charlotte tucked her slumbering son in his carpetbag bed.

  By the time Mrs. Fletcher appeared in the kitchen, Charlotte was cracking eggs in a porcelain bowl. Minutes later, she carved slices from the ham stored in the oak icebox, and soon after that she was arranging plums and apricots in a bowl. The cook gave an almost imperceptible nod of approval at Charlotte’s prompt initiative and lit the stove to heat the griddle for French toast.

  “Good morning,” Charlotte said. “When will the family come down?”

  “Mr. Banning will be first,” Mrs. Fletcher answered, “then young Richard. They’ll leave the house together in a carriage that will deliver young Richard to school and take Mr. Banning to his office downtown. The others will follow soon enough, though Mrs. Banning will likely call for a tray in her room. But before that, the staff will need their breakfast. You
’d better lay the table in here for the staff, then in the dining room for the family.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Don’t forget a place for Mr. Daniel. He came in late last night, rather than go all the way home to Riverside.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  When Lucy arrived in the dining room, she was wearing a dark navy woolen dress with crimson satin trim around the collar and cuffs, the only ornamentation of her garb.

  Daniel looked up from his financial newspaper. “Another of your orphan frocks?”

  “Good morning to you too,” Lucy responded. “I hope you slept well.”

  Daniel leaned back in his chair and smiled. Lucy recognized the smile for which she had fallen so many times over the years, a curve of the lip meant to cut through her irritability and make her see things his way. It’s not working this time. She inspected the scrambled eggs on the buffet.

  “I’m sorry,” Daniel said. “It was rude of me to greet you that way. Let’s start over.”

  “All right.” Lucy sat down next to Daniel and leaned in slightly for him to kiss her cheek. “Good morning, Daniel.”

  “Good morning, Lucy. What a flattering color your dress is.”

  Charlotte stood by ready to serve. Lucy glanced at the maid. “I’d love some eggs and fruit,” she said.

  Charlotte moved smoothly to the buffet to prepare a plate and momentarily placed it before Lucy.

  “I rather hoped we could have a day off today.” Daniel cut a bite of ham. “I sealed an important deal last night and I’m in the mood to celebrate.”

  “I’m glad your meeting went well,” Lucy said. “Charlotte, may I have some coffee as well, please?”

  “So how about it?” Daniel asked. “You could put on one of your new silk suits and we can make a day of it. Perhaps we’ll even find time to talk about the wedding without interruption.”

  There’s that smile again.

  Lucy swallowed the bite of egg in her mouth. “Daniel, it’s Friday.”

  “Yes, I know,” he said, “one of your regular days at the orphanage. But surely they can do without you for one day. You give them so much of your time.”

  “I’ve made a commitment. Mr. Emmett is expecting me.”

  “You can phone and beg off.”

  “The orphanage has no telephone.”

  “Then send a message. Your footman can take it.”

  “It’s not that easy, Daniel. The day has been arranged with the assumption that I would be there to perform certain tasks.”

  “Surely they can wait until Tuesday.”

  Lucy of course could not explain she would not be at the orphanage on Tuesday because she would be attending an art history lecture. She couldn’t possibly tell Mr. Emmett the work would have to wait a full week.

  “Why don’t we spend the evening together?” Lucy brightened her tone. “We can take a carriage ride out to the lake and have dinner on our own downtown.”

  Daniel sipped his coffee. “I’m not sure I like coming in second to your orphans.”

  “They’re not ‘my’ orphans,” Lucy said quietly. She set down her fork and swallowed the indignation that welled within her. “They’re children who have no parents or who cannot live with their parents for whatever reason. They’re human beings who need help. And I promised to help today.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand why you must be so personally involved with these street urchins,” Daniel said, “but I will respect that you want to keep a promise. I only hope you have the same passion for keeping your promise to me.”

  “Daniel—”

  He threw his napkin on the table and pushed his chair back. “Perhaps I will go into the office today after all. I’ll see you tonight for that carriage ride. Please remember to allow time to change your dress.” He left the dining room without looking at Lucy again.

  Lucy sighed and pushed her plate away. “You can take this,” she said to Charlotte. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

  Lucy chose to dismiss the carriage driver and walk the last few blocks to St. Andrew’s Orphanage. She wanted the morning exchange with Daniel out of her system before she entered St. Andrew’s, and walking always energized her. When he wanted to, Daniel could turn on the charm like no one else she had ever met. What did he have against innocent children?

  “Miss Banning!”

  Lucy turned toward the voice. “Mr. Edwards! How nice to see you.” Breakfast conversation faded immediately.

  Will fell into step with Lucy. “Where are you off to on this fine morning?”

  “St. Andrew’s,” Lucy said. “Fridays are a regular day to volunteer.”

  “Leo told me you offered your time three afternoons a week.”

  “On Fridays I often spend the entire day.” She had to, with so much left undone during her absences on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons.

  “I admire your generosity,” Will said. “I’m sure you could find any number of ways to spend your time.”

  “I enjoy the children.”

  “I imagine they enjoy you as well.”

  Lucy smiled. “It is rather a mutual admiration society.”

  “I’m not in a position to make a substantial financial donation,” Will said, “but I’m not afraid to roll up my sleeves and do whatever needs to be done. I hope you will not hesitate to call on me if you feel I can be of assistance.”

  “What a lovely offer, Mr. Edwards. I shall be sure to pass it on to Mr. Emmett, the director.”

  “I hope you will feel comfortable calling me Will. Leo has told me so many stories about you the last few years, I rather feel I know you quite well already.”

  “If only Leo had honored me with as many stories!” Lucy laughed gently. “I feel at a disadvantage.”

  “I’m sure Leo can remedy that if you only ask.”

  “Perhaps I will.” Lucy paused and glanced across an intersection. “This is my corner.”

  Will bowed slightly. “My streetcar stop is another four blocks. It was my pleasure to walk these few steps with you, Miss Banning.”

  “Lucy, please. And the pleasure was mine.”

  Will watched as Lucy crossed the street and climbed seven steps to the red front door of St. Andrew’s Orphanage. As her blue dress disappeared across the threshold, he reluctantly turned to continue his saunter to the streetcar. Will had enjoyed Leo’s friendship for three years, including accounts of his boyish escapades with his sister only a year younger. But now that Will had met Lucy Banning for himself, he was not sure what to make of her. She seemed every bit as spirited as Leo always led him to believe she was. Will had known Lucy would marry a family friend long before he ever imagined meeting Leo’s family in person. The move from New Jersey to Chicago had been unexpected and swift. His encounter with the Bannings had amounted to one dinner, decided on short notice, and Will had little reason to think it would amount to more than an occasional crossing of paths.

  Samuel and Flora Banning had lived up to Leo’s descriptions of them, and Oliver and Richard were no particular surprise. But Lucy was another matter.

  Lucy Banning was an engaged woman. But Lucy Banning was unlike any engaged woman Will had ever known.

  “Good morning, Jane.” Lucy greeted the eleven-year-old who often helped her with the clerical records in the office. Jane had come to St. Andrew’s when she was eight after the sudden death of both of her parents. By the time Lucy met her two years later, Jane had a hard edge about her. Lucy was determined to sand it down and transform that perpetual sulk into at least one smile with each visit.

  Jane’s dark braids draped forward on her shoulders against the yellow cotton of her dress, a garment Lucy knew had been worn by at least two other girls before it came to Jane. Brown eyes brooded under thick eyebrows as the girl sat on a wobbly wooden chair awaiting instructions.

  “Are you caught up on your lessons?” Lucy asked. “I promised Mr. Emmett I would not take you away from your schoolwork.”

  Jane nodded. She rarely s
poke, but she was a bright child who followed instructions accurately and worked efficiently.

  “Let’s go in the office,” Lucy said. “Mr. Emmett has asked that we sort through the records in the two file cabinets against the wall and pull out the files for children who have moved on from St. Andrew’s. I’m counting on you to help me recognize the names of the older children. Can you do that for me?”

  The girl nodded again and followed Lucy down the hall. The brick structure of St. Andrew’s had five stories, housed more than four hundred children, and contained its own school up through the eighth grade. After that, capable students went to a conventional high school, while others entered the working world—often in the employ of families like Lucy’s or the growing number of factories around the city. The classrooms were in the front of the building on two floors. At the rear of the first story was a series of cramped offices for the director, assistant director, and volunteers. Just as Lucy approached the office, she was accosted around the hips. Laughing, she stooped to hug the child. “Benny, I’m happy to see you too,” she told the six-year-old boy. “But shouldn’t you be in class?”

  “I told Teacher I had to see you,” Benny said. “I told her I know you come on Fridays. She said I could go, but I have to come right back.”

  Lucy kissed the top of his head. “Then you’d better hurry back. You don’t want to miss your arithmetic lesson. Ask permission to come find me again when school is out for the day.”

  Lucy continued to the office, squeezing past a desk in the hallway and a bookcase that made the narrow doorway almost impassable. Will probably would have an idea to make this space more efficient, she thought.

  Lucy pulled open the top file drawer. “Okay, Miss Jane, let’s get to work.”