Of course Edmund couldn’t offer her his arm, because of the shotgun he carried and the group of quail strung over his shoulder, but he gave her an unsmiling nod and stepped back slightly so she could move past him on the path. She went, skirts dragging on the fallen leaves, the sound a scratchy counterpart to the sigh of the wind in the trees. He fell in just slightly behind her, but more off to the side so he didn’t run the risk of treading on the trailing hem of her skirt.
For a long, awkward moment, neither of them said anything. Then, because she had to break the silence somehow, and because she felt she’d better at least try to deflect some of Edmund’s suspicions, Danica said, “That must be quite the popular path. I walked it once before, to gather some leaves for one of my lessons, but I thought I’d go back today to see if that one oak had dropped any of its leaves. I thought I might make a garland for Mrs. Wilson’s mantel.”
She paused then, flicking a quick glance back at Edmund. His face was impassive; because Danica had only spent an hour or so in his company, she couldn’t call herself at all familiar with his expressions or his moods. However, since he hadn’t called her out on her flimsy lie, she decided she might as well forge ahead.
“I was quite surprised to see Mr. Rowe, but he explained that he liked to walk that particular path because one can see the town so well from up on the hill. He was pointing out to me all the buildings that were being planned.”
“Any of them his?” Edmund asked, tone dry in the extreme. No doubt he was wondering if Robert Rowe intended to buy up parcels within the town limits as well.
“I don’t believe so,” Danica replied, trying to keep the edge from her voice. “That is, he didn’t mention anything along those lines.”
A murmur of “good,” and that seemed to be the end of Edmund’s contributions to the conversation. He strode along in her wake, seeming content to remain silent. Actually, “content” wasn’t quite the right word. Danica could practically feel the speculation in his gaze, the way he kept turning over her meeting with Robert in his mind, picking it apart for anything that could be construed as suspicious.
Well, it probably all looked suspicious to Edmund, but as long as he hadn’t actually seen anything more incriminating than the two of them talking, she thought she might be able to escape this unfortunate discovery more or less unscathed. What Edmund intended to say to his brother Jeremiah, Danica had no idea. Maybe Edmund would keep his mouth shut altogether.
No, that was probably wishful thinking. But maybe if Jeremiah got the news and was angered by it, he’d cancel her invitation to dinner at Emma’s house tomorrow evening. Danica was just fine with that, although she didn’t like the idea of making Emma go to all that work, only to have her dinner guest be a no-show.
Either way, this was all just speculation. For now, Danica could only walk along calmly and pretend as if nothing was wrong. And when Edmund guided her straight to Mrs. Wilson’s front door, Danica thanked him for escorting her home, even managing to smile, although she wasn’t sure how convincing the expression actually was.
He only nodded and tipped his hat to her, then headed off toward Park Street. Taking a breath, Danica slipped inside the house and shut the door behind her, relieved beyond measure that Clara was still at work and Mrs. Wilson was clattering away in the kitchen, obviously prepping for dinner. Right then, Danica didn’t want to talk to anyone. She tiptoed up the stairs and went straight to her room, where she locked herself in before sinking down onto the chair. Suddenly, even though she never laced her corset all that tightly, it felt as if she couldn’t breathe.
It’s okay, she told herself. It’s all going to be fine. After all, Edmund had been pretty mellow, all things considered. Since she’d acted as if leaving Robert behind was no big deal, Edmund might just brush the whole incident aside.
Unfortunately, she had the feeling things wouldn’t be at all fine.
* * *
When she went into the schoolhouse the next day, she held her breath as she opened her desk drawer, praying that Robert had left a note for her. But the only note there was the one from Emma Garnett, still sitting more or less where Danica had folded it and stuck it off to one side.
Disappointment stabbed through her, although she knew that, logically, Robert would need to keep his distance from the school for a while. He’d already spotted Edmund in the neighborhood the day before their ill-fated meeting in the woods, and so he’d have to wait until he thought it safe to approach her.
And no reprieve from dinner at the Garnett household, either. Little Susan Wilcox came up to Danica and said that her mamma was looking forward to seeing Miss Prewitt for supper that night, and to remember to come a little after six.
Managing the best smile she could, Danica told Susan she was very much looking forward to it as well, and that seemed to be the end of the matter. No hope of escape there, obviously.
That afternoon Danica didn’t linger at the school, but took the few papers which needed grading back with her. She knew she’d need the extra time to get ready, because she wanted to change out of her plaid day dress and into the nicer wool gown, now that it had been carefully brushed to remove any sign of her rendezvous with Robert in the woods the day before.
And quite possibly it was foolish to care what she looked like for this dinner she didn’t even want to attend, but she had to act as if everything was quite normal, and that meant showing Emma Garnett and her extended family the proper respect. It might be the longest dinner of her life, but Danica was determined to do all the right things. Tomorrow…well, she’d find some way to talk to Robert tomorrow, no matter what, but she’d worry about that then.
For now, she had to put on her game face.
The night promised to be windy and cold, so she slipped her cloak around her shoulders and headed down the stairs, pulling on her gloves as she did so. Mrs. Wilson was busy in the kitchen, but Clara sat in the parlor, reading a book. Where Elias might be, Danica didn’t know, but she supposed he couldn’t come over to visit every night.
“Dinner with the Wilcoxes again?” Clara inquired, closing her book on one finger so she wouldn’t lose her place.
Technically, it was dinner with the Garnetts, but Danica didn’t bother to contradict the other girl. “Yes,” she replied. “Mrs. Garnett was kind enough to invite me for dinner again.”
“You’re spending a lot of time with the Wilcoxes, it seems. Folks are beginning to talk.”
Danica refused to let herself be irritated by that remark. “Oh, are they? Well, I suppose people must have something or other to keep themselves occupied. I don’t let myself worry about it too much.”
Arching an eyebrow, Clara said, “Butter doesn’t melt in your mouth, does it? But then, I suppose I might be the same way if I’d managed to attract the attention of someone like Mr. Jeremiah Wilcox.”
You couldn’t be further from the truth, Danica thought, but she only said, “I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood the situation, Clara. Mrs. Garnett invited me to dinner, and so of course I accepted. Mr. Wilcox had absolutely nothing to do with it.”
“If you say so.”
From the way Clara delivered this statement, Danica could tell she was both unconvinced and more than a little annoyed. But it was already past six, and she didn’t want to be late. “I do say so, Clara. But you have a lovely evening.”
Having put a period to the conversation, Danica sailed out of the room, then on through the front door and down the steps. The wind caught her immediately, struggling to yank her hat right off her head. Because it was anchored with several hatpins, it certainly wasn’t going anywhere, but Danica gritted her teeth anyway and hoped she wouldn’t be a complete disaster by the time she got to Emma’s house. With the wind came the scent of pine, familiar enough even in her own time, but overlaid here with the sharp scents of freshly hewn lumber from the mill. At least the air was fresh enough that she could barely smell the horse manure.
Would it rain? Danica squinted up at the sk
y, but although more and more clouds seemed to be gathering, they didn’t look heavy enough yet to be truly threatening. Thank God. This dinner was going to be difficult enough without getting trapped in the Garnett house by an inconvenient rainstorm.
She went up the neat front walk and knocked on the door. This time, little Susan opened it, and Danica gave her a surprised look.
“Are you the doorman tonight?”
“Door girl,” Susan replied. “I have to go upstairs soon, but Mama said I could answer the door, since I was the one who took you the note inviting you to dinner.”
“Well, that was very considerate,” Danica said, trying not to smile. It was clear that Susan took her duties seriously, and it wouldn’t be right to seem as if she was making fun of her.
Susan nodded. “And she said I could bring you to the dining room, after you’ve hung up your hat. You can put it there.” She pointed to the hall tree, and Danica reached up and pulled out her hatpin, then removed the little velvet hat and did her best to smooth away the damage the wind had done to her hair. Afterward, she hung the hat on one of the hooks, and took off her cloak as well.
Through all this, Susan had been waiting patiently. Once she saw that Danica was done, she said, “It’s this way to the dining room, Miss Prewitt.”
Of course Danica remembered how to get there — the house was big, but not that big — but she let Susan dance ahead, dark sausage curls swinging down her back, as she led her teacher to meet the rest of the family. As she followed, Danica took in a calming breath, telling herself that this was all going to be fine. Certainly there was nothing in the little girl’s manner to indicate that tonight’s dinner was anything more than another gesture of hospitality from one of the town’s leading families to the school’s new teacher.
When Danica entered the dining room, however, she could almost feel the eyes of the Wilcox brothers boring into her. Of them all, Jeremiah was the only one who looked even somewhat relaxed, but maybe he was just a better actor than the rest of them. Oh, sure, they all still rose and greeted her politely, even as Emma thanked her daughter and sent her upstairs to be with her brothers and their most likely besieged nanny. That minor courtesy, however, was certainly not enough to calm Danica’s nerves. Edmund had obviously been telling tales out of school, and she had no idea what the hell she was going to do about it.
But then Emma came up to her and said, “Good evening, Miss Prewitt. I’m so glad you could join us tonight. Edmund shot some lovely quail yesterday, so I was able to make this dinner a little more special.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Danica managed. So…had Edmund talked to his brothers, but not to his sister? Maybe. She still had the impression that Emma and the other wives didn’t know anything about what their husbands were plotting.
If they even were plotting at all. Maybe Danica was just being paranoid. Somehow, though, she doubted it. She could sense undercurrents here that had absolutely nothing to do with her imagination.
Emma led her to the same seat she’d occupied at dinner last week, the one to Jeremiah’s right. At least Danica had been expecting it this time, so her place at the table didn’t come as a complete surprise. After she’d settled herself, Jeremiah picked up a cut-crystal decanter of dark wine and poured a measure into the glass before her. Again, nothing obviously different from last time, when wine had also been served, but she couldn’t help experiencing a stir of apprehension. What if one of the brothers had tampered with it somehow? After all, she still didn’t have a clear idea of what all their various talents might be; maybe one of them had a facility with potions.
No, that really was being paranoid. They wouldn’t do anything so blatant as attempt to drug their children’s schoolteacher. Besides, Jeremiah had passed the decanter on to Nathan, who poured for his wife Jennie before the decanter again was handed off to the next waiting brother, this time Samuel.
Danica couldn’t ignore the dark, flickering glare he sent her. She’d been halfway expecting that, however. None of the Wilcox brothers were particularly fond of Robert Rowe, but with Samuel the antipathy had morphed into downright hatred, as far as she could tell. Right then she was glad all the Wilcoxes were present and accounted for, because that meant they couldn’t be going after Robert. He, she guessed, must be safely tucked away in his hotel. Was he sitting down to dinner there, just as she was here?
The ache of need that washed over her then was both unexpected and unwelcome, and she pushed it away as best she could. She couldn’t allow herself to moon over Robert while surrounded by all these Wilcoxes. This was one place where she needed to keep on her toes.
Bridget, the maid, brought in the soup course, and after a brief prayer — probably more for Bridget’s benefit than because the Wilcoxes were truly religious — everyone settled down to eat.
“I heard you were gathering leaves for autumn garlands, Miss Prewitt,” Edmund’s wife Lida said, and Danica paused, soup spoon halfway to her mouth. Crap, how the hell was she supposed to reply to that? Recovering herself, she responded,
“Oh, yes — I thought it might be nice to be a little festive.” She added, hoping to turn the conversation to a more neutral topic, “Halloween is coming up so soon. Do you do anything much to celebrate here in Flagstaff?”
“Reverend Pierce is not overly fond of the notion of Halloween,” Lida said with a smile. “But we don’t want to deny the children their fun, so we do carve pumpkins, and we have a small gathering where the boys and girls bob for apples and play other games.”
“I remember you playing a few of those games as well, not so long ago,” Grace put in, looking sly. “Didn’t you gaze into the mirror on All Hallows’ Eve to see who would be your one true love?”
“Yes, and I saw Edmund’s face, so I think that worked out very well.”
Everyone chuckled, while Danica put on her best polite smile. She hadn’t even thought to research Victorian Halloween customs, but clearly the day wasn’t celebrated quite the same way here as it was back in modern-day Flagstaff.
Just as well, she thought. If I’d had to see one more “sexy” version of something as a Halloween costume, I’d probably throw up.
“You’re always welcome here, Miss Prewitt,” Jeremiah said then. His dark eyes held hers for a moment, and she swallowed. “Some of the young men here in town do take the holiday as an opportunity to…run wild, shall we say?…and so it might be better for you to be here with us rather than at Mrs. Wilson’s boarding house.”
That sounded ominous. How much trouble could the young men in the town really get into? But then she remembered how many of them seemed to wear pistols at their side, and how she often heard at least one or two gunshots emanating from Humphreys Street on Friday and Saturday nights, after everyone at the mill had gotten that week’s pay.
“Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Wilcox,” Danica replied. “That does sound like a much better way to spend the holiday.” And please God that Robert and I are long gone by then. Wherever or whenever that might be.
After that Bridget brought in a large tray with the quail, and then bowls of rice and dressing and some kind of fruit sauce that smelled positively decadent. The conversation shifted to whether the Presbyterians were really going to buy that lot on the corner of Sitgreaves and Aspen Street, or if it would instead be the site of yet another hotel.
Danica was content to remain silent during most of that discussion; she knew the Presbyterians would win out, since the church they’d built back in the late 1880s still stood. In fact, she’d walked by it plenty of times when going to the art shows the city held in the park behind Flagstaff’s city hall. She never could seem to get a decent parking place at those things and always had to hoof it for a few blocks.
If anyone noticed her silence, they didn’t comment on it…although she couldn’t help the way Jeremiah’s gaze seemed to inevitably stray in her direction when he thought she wasn’t looking. Not good. Whatever Edmund had or hadn’t told him about seeing her with Rober
t, it didn’t seem to have dissuaded the leader of the Wilcox clan from wooing her.
Dessert was bread pudding with a whiskey sauce so alcoholic that Danica was surprised they didn’t light it on fire, just for show. It was also insanely good, and she had to force herself to turn down a second helping.
On top of the wine, it would knock you on your ass, she thought. Not that she had much room for any more food; one good thing about corsets was the way they tended to restrict your food intake.
And here they were at the end of the meal, and there hadn’t been any scenes, nor any real awkwardness, except for those disquieting glances from Jeremiah. Danica was about to let out a small sigh of relief when he said, “Miss Prewitt, may I speak with you privately?”
The words were phrased as a request, but she knew she had no real choice. “On what subject, Mr. Wilcox?”
“As I said, I would like our discussion to be private. If you would come with me back to my house?”
Danica hesitated, trying to ignore the way all the others were watching them — the brothers’ expressions somehow greedy, their wives appearing somewhat puzzled. What Jeremiah was asking of her was highly improper by the standards of the day, after all. Even so, she knew she had been backed into a corner.
Apparently noting her discomfort, he said, “My son and his nanny — and the housemaid — will all be there. You need not worry about being alone with me.”
That was being a bit too bald-faced about the situation, even though only family members were listening. Danica let out a nervous laugh, saying, “No, of course not. I’m sure it will be fine.” She turned toward Emma. “Thank you for another lovely meal.”
She got to her feet then, the rest of the men rising courteously. Their wives stood as well, although they stayed where they were as Danica exited the dining room and went toward the entry hall. With shaking fingers, she retrieved her cloak from the hall tree and draped it over her shoulders, then picked up her hat, although she didn’t bother to put it on.
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