Mrs. Fox stopped at the end. “Maude, I need to speak with you privately.”
Ben stood as soon as Mrs. Fox and another woman entered the parlor outside the head housekeeper’s office. Herr König must demand that his maid be replaced. He couldn’t allow that blowsy servant into his room again or tolerate her suggestive behavior. The woman should be fired. Mrs. Fox, as usual, presented a perfectly starched appearance, her shoulders square in her puffed-sleeve jacket. Alongside her, a maid with her cap pulled low over dark hair in a severe bun stared down at her shoes. Her ill-fitting garment appeared clean but not pressed. Odd.
“Mrs. Fox?”
“Yes, Mr. König?”
“I wish to speak with you about the incident with one of your maids.”
She raised a hand. “We can discuss that once I’ve sent my newest maid on her way.”
The young woman stepped behind Mrs. Fox and ducked her head farther, as though fearful of him.
He cleared his throat. “Ma’am, I want you to know that I would never make overtures toward one of the maids.” Overture, a musical term for decidedly unseemly behavior. “Nor shall I succumb to anyone’s brazen behavior.”
“Quite understood.”
The maid continued to cower behind the older woman.
“I require a replacement.”
“Of course, sir.”
The servant practically crouched behind Mrs. Fox’s shoulder. “I don’t want anyone to fear me on your staff.”
“I have the matter well in hand. In fact, I’m about to discuss your situation with this young lady.” Mrs. Fox’s shoulders shifted beneath her tightly constraining jacket. “She’s quite—demure—as you can see.”
Demure? She was downright cowed.
Ben had to avoid any situation that might bring him further scrutiny, and he must keep up the appearance of a wealthy, aristocratic German man accustomed to having his way.
He held up his hands. “Mrs. Fox, I cannot have someone coming and going who is afraid of her shadow—I’d find that intolerable.”
Afraid of her shadow? He was intolerable, not she. Maude sucked in a breath full of outrage and peeked over Mrs. Fox’s shoulder. How dare he? And he’d been so kind to Jack. He’d even come to church.
Mr. König had yelled at one of the maids and chased her from his room. Had the maid refused to bend to his wishes in some illicit regard? Maybe he was protesting too much over his own innocence.
Her stomach squeezed its meager contents into the size of one of Jack’s baseballs in her gut. So this was the genuine article—the real Mr. König. He examined his gold-cased watch. He couldn’t be bothered by the servants. Friedrich König had the power to have her dismissed if he didn’t care for her. Or if Mrs. Fox agreed with his assessment of her and found Maude unsuitable. Prickles of fear raced down her back.
Bowing her head in subservience, Maude stepped to the housekeeper’s side and bobbed a curtsy. “Begging your pardon, sir, but I’m more than willing to do as Mrs. Fox directs me for the care of your room.”
Mr. König cast her a sidelong glance then directed his gaze toward Mrs. Fox.
The matron stood erect, unmoving. “Can you accept this new maid’s assignment? For the morning shift only, mind you.”
What would Maude be doing in the afternoon?
“This is a hotel, after all, Herr König, not a private estate.” Mrs. Fox raised an eyebrow at him.
Surprisingly, the handsome young man blushed.
All the servants tittered about the wealthy, aristocratic bachelor. They said not only was he a rich factory owner, but he also had titled family in Europe. He’d certainly not acted the part when he was with her in the community. Maude hadn’t realized at first that the maids were referring to Friedrich König, whom she had thought of as her new friend. The rude man. A deceitful man who was only kind to others when it suited him. Then why had he helped Jack?
“She should suit.” His haughty tone chilled her.
“Glad you agree. Is that all?”
He hesitated a moment then gave a brief nod before departing the parlor.
Mrs. Fox sighed. “What an eccentric young man. I can’t figure him out.”
There was more to Mr. König than met the eye. “Perhaps that isn’t necessary.”
Mrs. Fox chuckled. She entered her office and waved to a chair then took her own.
The little knots in Maude’s back began to unwind.
“I must tell you why I called you in.” The woman’s countenance became more serious.
Maude frowned.
“I failed to apprise you that yours is only for a part-time position.”
“Part-time?” She wasn’t sure whether to crow in relief like the roosters that morning or protest. After all, her father might not be very impressed with a half-time position.
“Yes, eight hours, not the usual ten, and you’ll work only five days, not six.”
She nodded in agreement.
“Now, let’s go over what you’ll need to do when you come in tomorrow—for Mr. König’s room especially.”
“Do you think he might have”—Maude searched for an appropriate word—“bothered Amanda?” The servant asserted to every maid in the supply room, where they gathered, that he had.
Mrs. Fox’s intent gaze fixed Maude to the spot.
“God’s Word tells us to believe the best of everyone.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Mrs. Fox clasped her hands together. “He also tells us to be wise as serpents and gentle as lambs. And you, my dear, are a lamb—but even the lamb must understand the snakes among us.”
But she didn’t specify whether she meant Amanda or Mr. König. Maude wasn’t about to ask—she’d have to find out for herself.
Chapter Nine
At least she’d not tipped over any chamber pots. Maude’s second day of work proved more difficult than the first, with Mrs. Stillman dogging her steps.
Heading out and across the street, she made a beeline for Danner Stables, owned by her cousin Stan. “BEST ON THE ISLAND,” proclaimed the sign hanging by the stable office.
Maude stepped into the barn, the hay causing her to sneeze. If she remained here too long, her chest would begin to tighten.
“Stan?” She wished they had time to chat—she needed someone to talk to.
A slender young man rose from sitting on a hay bale in the shadows.
“Better get back there and change, Maudie, whilst we’ve got no customers.” Stan jerked a thumb toward the tack room.
So her cousin, like everyone else, had no time for her, either. “Thanks, Stan.” Moisture pricked at her eyes as she strode through the hay-strewn floor. She sneezed and stepped into the tack room. Pulling the flimsy wood door shut, she fastened the rope loop around a large rusty nail, securing the door.
As she undressed, thin streams of light shone between the wood slats framing the room. If only Bea were there to assist, it would go more quickly. She pulled her blouse over her head and held her breath at the odor. Her over-blouse would require washing as well as her skirt. She patted her undergarments—they too would need laundering. She shuddered, recalling how one of the guests at the Grand, a society girl from Lansing, had Maude unfasten not only her boots but her corset, too. Did Bea react the same way to her? From now on she’d ask the servant to assist only when she truly couldn’t fend for herself. Or she wouldn’t buy clothing that required others’ assistance.
A sharp rap on the door startled her. “Better hightail it, Maudie. Looks like we got a customer coming.”
“All right. I’m hurrying.”
The buttons unfastened, Maude whipped off her skirt and stuffed it into a bag with the rest of the uniform for Jane to wash and iron for her that night. If Maude didn’t have to tend to Jack’s nightly needs and to giving Papa company and attention, she could do it herself. She’d figure out how later.
“Hey, Maude! I’ve rented out your horse and Jack’s to some fellas from the Grand.”
“Fine.” It wasn’t fine, but the mare and the gelding both required regular exercise.
She opened the wooden box, quickly pulled out her own garments, and then donned them. Thankfully the cedar lining and pomanders kept the horse scent from permeating the clothes. She dabbed rosewater behind her ears and then a generous amount on her décolletage before fastening her jacket.
Don’t do this. Don’t try to be something you aren’t. Don’t lie to your father.
Maude swatted at the air, as though the movement would dispel the admonitions. Guilt accompanied her as she sank down onto the box. Everything she thought would happen this summer had been stolen from her. Why?
“Maudie!” Stan’s voice carried from farther away—somewhere inside the barn. “You got to get out of there. The gentleman who wants to rent the horses is here.”
“Coming!” She unfastened the hairpins that fixed her curls to her scalp so that they were like a helmet. She ran her fingers through the ringlets as they cascaded about her shoulders. Not very ladylike, but it would have to do. She removed the loop from the nail and opened the door and stepped out into the stables. Fresh hay and the odor of horses permeated the air.
The stable door opened and a man slipped inside. Friedrich König. Alongside him ambled the hotel’s most notorious womanizer, Marcus Edmunds. All the other maids had warned Maude never to be anyplace near Edmunds if she could help it. Why was Mr. König associating with him? Maybe Amanda was telling the truth about him, and the other maids were simply spreading rumors about him.
Maude froze, looking for someplace to hide. If she crouched behind a tack box, she’d be filthy.
“Good day, Miss Welling.” Mr. König moved in her direction with a slow, easy grace.
What a supercilious man. He may have saved her brother, but he was someone very aware of his station in life.
“Mr. König.” She gave a curt nod.
Unlike earlier at the hotel, when he’d not given her a second’s notice, Mr. König smiled and slowly perused her from her curly head down to her newest lace-up boots. His grin revealed that he liked what he saw—unlike the pointed disinterest he’d shown when he met her as a servant. What a snob he’d been, not even bothering to glance her way in Mrs. Fox’s office. And then berating her for being timid. Maude’s gut spasmed.
“Perhaps you’d like to join me sometime, Miss Welling, for a ride around the island?” Mr. König’s smile seemed genuine enough, but the smirk Edmunds wore showed just what he thought of the offer.
She’d not be fooled again. “A simple island girl like myself wouldn’t be much amusement for a city fellow such as you, Mr. König.”
Edmunds snorted then elbowed the taller man.
Stan grasped her arm and turned her in a half circle, away from his patrons. “Here, Maude, take the back door this time.” None too gently he pushed her out the door.
Why was the stableman shoving the lovely Miss Welling out the door? Ben squelched the urge to protest Stan’s manhandling of the young woman. Such objections wouldn’t be expected from the cavalier, wealthy, young industrialist he was supposed to be. Yet earlier, when Miss Welling’s beautiful features had bunched in offense at his oafish leer, he’d regretted the behavior his job required from him. Ach, what a dummkopf I am.
Marcus elbowed him. “Say, she’s a looker—too bad she’s not staying at the Grand.”
Ben gritted his teeth. “I think you have enough young ladies already chasing you down that long porch at night, ja?”
Edmunds laughed and buffed his nails against his tight vest. “True.”
“You’ll have to tell me all about those pretty women as we ride. Have you chosen one for yourself yet?”
“Gads, no!”
The stable manager returned. “Sorry about that, but my cousin needed to get home quickly.”
“Your cousin?” Was Miss Welling related to everyone on the island? Ben relaxed his shoulders. His ribs, while still sore, had been re-taped. He hoped the ride wouldn’t aggravate them.
“Yes, sir, my lovely cousin.” The man’s dark eyes narrowed slightly. Challenging.
“Yes.” Ben relaxed his hands. “My friend and I wish to ride.” He’d wanted a horse to ride around the island, away from the Grand, to interview Edmunds without all the fawning women who trailed his every move.
Danner cocked his head. “Have you ridden much before?”
“Ja, but it has been a long time.” On Groβmutter and Groβvater’s farm. In the countryside, in Bavaria, before so many illnesses and deaths changed their lives and sent them to this country. Before his aunt and uncle, who were to have allowed Friedrich’s family to live on the estate between concert tours, unceremoniously expelled them from the property—their belongings all but destroyed. Jealousy had stolen his parents’ livelihood and what was supposed to have been their home.
“You’ll be riding the Wellings’ horses today.” He pointed to the nearby stalls where the two horses munched contentedly on hay.
These two were expensive horses. “Mr. Peter Wellings?’”
“His children’s.” The stable owner focused his gaze on Edmunds. “Are you a fair rider?”
“Steeplechase winner for Virginia in ’93.” The man’s dimpled grin could even charm a man.
Danner’s tanned face relaxed. “We’ll put you on Jack’s Thoroughbred and Mr. König up on the quarter horse.”
If only Ben could jump on one and race after the lovely woman with the chestnut curls and amber eyes. Eyes that bore into his like the deep of night.
Soon the horses were trotting up Cadotte Avenue toward the interior of the island. “Very pretty out here, isn’t it?”
“Too country-like for me.”
Edmunds stopped beneath a huge maple tree. Drays and pedestrians made their way past, while the two horses munched on the grass. Ben used the opportunity to converse with the man and soon learned that Edmunds had prepared a list of his potential lady-loves ranked by “assets.”
“And I do mean by income and property holdings.” Edmunds winked. “Although feminine charms are a bonus.”
What a cad. “I wonder if Greyson Luce had such a list.”
“Looks to be too big of a hayseed to me. Seems to have lucked out.”
A sleek black horse trotted toward them, a dark-haired man well seated in an expensive cordovan leather saddle. Captain Swaine.
Edmunds jerked his thumb. “Now there would be some real competition for us if he ever chose to pursue one of the young lovelies at the Grand. He’s a bachelor.”
“Do you know him?”
“Know of him. Swaine owns a very profitable shipping business. Nasty bit of goods though, with him having lost several ships recently. A fire on one in Detroit.”
“I think I remember that one. Suspected arson.” Ben hadn’t been assigned the story.
“Swaine came away untarnished from the investigation.”
The captain pulled his horse to a halt nearby. “Good day, gentlemen. Can I be of any assistance to you?”
Edmunds’s horse raised its head and whinnied. “How do you mean?”
“Are you lost?” Swaine’s mount whinnied back, but he held the beautiful Thoroughbred in place. “This area is where most of the year-round residents live. We call it the Village.”
If that wasn’t an invitation to bug off, Ben didn’t know what was. “We’re just out for a ride.”
Swaine nudged his horse forward. “I gave this mare to Maude Welling. What are you doing riding these horses?”
The captain had gifted this expensive animal to Miss Welling. Even with a promotion and a raise, Ben would never be able to offer her such a gift. “We rented these fine animals from Danner’s Stables. Miss Welling was there to witness our doing so. I suggest you ask her, sir.”
“Rented?” he sputtered.
“Ja.” Maybe she wasn’t so taken with the captain.
“Would you care to examine the rental slip?” Edmunds set his jaw. Swaine backed his horse up. “Pardon
me. I just can’t imagine why she’d …”
Why would she allow the animals to be loaned out? Was she that desperate for money?
“Apology accepted. I’m Marcus Edmunds, staying at the Grand for the season. And not a horse thief!”
What Edmunds planned to do over the summer was a form of thievery, but Ben schooled his features. “I’m Friedrich König, also at the Grand. Never a horse thief.”
The captain grinned. “Jack’s savior. Nice meeting you.”
“Nein. Jack has only one Savior. But I’m glad to have helped.”
“Well said.” Swaine nodded. “Again, I apologize for jumping to conclusions. No hard feelings?”
“Treat me to a round sometime, Captain Swaine, and we’ll be squared away.” Marcus laughed, as though he were joking, but there was probably some truth to his words.
Swaine headed off toward Harrisonville and they turned back toward the Grand.
“Say that was clever, old chap, warming up to the captain with your talk of the Savior.” Edmunds’s mocking tone made Ben cringe.
“He seems a nice enough sort.”
“Help me keep him away from my ladies, if you’re a pal.” Edmunds urged Jack’s gelding into a trot.
Too late to keep Swaine away from the one Ben’s heart yearned for.
Friedrich König was riding her mare. And with Marcus Edmunds. Oh! Maude clenched her fists and charged down the boardwalk toward home. Friedrich König was likely just as big a liar as Greyson was. How horribly unfair that in the course of a week she’d been abandoned by Greyson and now duped by Mr. König. And how confusing that it was the latter’s affections she most mourned the loss of, even though she’d yet to experience them. She shook her head at herself and her silly notions.
Gentle breezes carried the sound of bells on harnesses as a carriage rounded the corner. A beautiful red-haired woman glared out the window at her. Anna. Shouldn’t she be the one angry with Anna Luce, and not the other way around? She hurried toward home.
My Heart Belongs on Mackinac Island Page 8
