Looking To The Future (#11 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series)

by Ginny Dye

  “And you believe that is possible?” Sherman asked keenly.

  Ralph shrugged. “I suppose it depends on the person. I would hope they value their job enough to take care of the situation quickly, so that we can make it disappear.”

  “Anyone who doesn’t value their job here is a fool,” Sherman said firmly, stroking his moustache thoughtfully. “Would you like me to talk to them, sir?”

  Ralph shook his head. “That won’t be necessary,” he said. “I am talking to that person right now.” He sat back in his seat, his eyes fixed on Sherman.

  Wally watched Sherman closely. He could tell the moment Ralph’s statement hit home.

  “I’m not certain I understand,” Sherman stammered, straightening in his chair as he struggled to regain his composure. “Are you talking about me?”

  “I am,” Ralph said, dropping all pretense. “It has come to light that your beautiful wife, Alice, was abducted by three men under the cover of night and taken to the Women’s Lunatic Asylum on Blackwell’s Island. Since I grew rather fond of your intelligent and quite sane wife during our social meetings over the last months, I was quite distraught when I discovered this.”

  Wally allowed himself a satisfied smile as he watched Sherman’s mouth open and close silently. He looked like a fish gulping for air while it thrashed on the bottom of a boat.

  “To make it worse,” Ralph continued, “we have discovered that quite a prominent journalist is aware of this situation, and is preparing to launch a series of articles about it, including the information of your position with Pennsylvania Railroad. I’m sure you can understand what a negative impact this would have on the company,” he said harshly. “It would undo all the good you have accomplished in the last year.”

  Sherman continued to stare at him in shock.

  “Have you nothing to say?” Ralph barked after a few moments.

  Sherman finally found his voice. “I’m afraid you don’t have a clear understanding of the situation,” he said stiffly, fighting to regain his dignity. “It caused me great grief to have my wife confined to the asylum, but I found it was for the best.”

  Ralph waved his hand in the air angrily. “Don’t compound your appalling treatment of your wife by lying to me. We both know you chose this course of action because you were threatened by Alice’s decision to be a doctor.” He shook his head. “What I can’t understand is why you believed it was such a threat.”

  Sherman sat silently for several moments.

  Wally could almost see the wheels turning in the man’s head as he tried to create a way out of the disaster he had engineered for himself.

  “Successful businessmen should never have a wife in a profession,” Sherman said formally. “It diminishes their effectiveness in business because of how others perceive him.”

  Ralph barked a short laugh. “If you believe that nonsense, Sherman, you are even less intelligent than I had already recently decided you are. In case you are not aware of it, more and more women are moving forward in professions. My own daughter is preparing to be a lawyer. I am quite proud of her, and would not allow her to marry a man who had nothing but the utmost respect and appreciation for her intelligence.” He leaned forward. “It’s really quite simple. You have to fix this.”

  Sherman nodded eagerly. “I believe I can convince the journalist that it was in Mrs. Archer’s best interest to have her committed. I’m sure he must be a reasonable man.”

  Wally was content to watch as the anger in Ralph’s eyes flared to rage. His respect for his friend grew as the older man managed to get it under control.

  “That won’t do,” Ralph said firmly. “Evidently, you heard nothing of what I just said. I believe I mentioned in the beginning of this meeting that I hoped to find a solution to this problem without jeopardizing the person’s position in our company.” He paused. “Despite your archaic way of thinking, I still would like to do that.”

  Sherman grabbed on to his last sentence like a life ring thrown to a drowning man. “And how do you see that happening?” he asked quietly.

  Wally nodded his head as he saw Sherman finally realize the choices he made in the next few minutes would determine whether he still had a career with Pennsylvania Railroad.

  Ralph folded his hands on his desk. “You will go immediately to the asylum on Blackwell’s Island and provide the paperwork for Mrs. Archer’s release,” he said, his voice ringing through his office. “You will leave without seeing her, because that would do nothing but inflame the situation. Then, tomorrow, you will file the papers for divorce, promising to give Mrs. Archer ten thousand dollars immediately.”

  “Divorce? Ten thousand dollars?” Sherman’s features whitened. “That is all the money I have, sir,” he stammered.

  Wally smiled grimly. Sherman would be appalled at how much they knew about him. His investigator had been quite thorough in the past two weeks.

  “That may be,” Ralph replied, “but at least you will still have a job.” He waited for several long moments of stunned silence and then leaned forward. “Can I count on you to take care of this very unpleasant situation?”

  Sherman continued to stare.

  Wally knew he was running through all the possible solutions in his mind. It didn’t take long for the man’s expression to reveal he understood he had no viable options if he wasn’t to face complete destruction.

  “Where will Mrs. Archer go if I have her released?” Sherman asked.

  Ralph narrowed his eyes. “If I thought she was willing to spend even one night under your roof, I would force you to move out and give her your home. As it is, she never wants to step foot through the doors again. I quite agree with her.”

  “Mrs. Archer will come home with me,” Wally said, speaking for the first time.

  Sherman swung around to stare at him. “Who are you?” His voice was more bewildered than antagonistic.

  “My name is Wally Stratford. My wife and I have known Alice for several years. We will be honored to have her in our home while she rebuilds the life you have tried to destroy.”

  “I see,” Sherman murmured, his eyes flashing around the room like a trapped animal’s.

  Ralph took control again. “Mr. Stratford will accompany you to Blackwell’s Island on the next ferry. Once you have signed the papers for Mrs. Archer’s release, he will take you back to the ferry. You will return here, and then go to the courthouse in the afternoon to sign the divorce papers. I’m assured it will not take long, since no one will contest the divorce.” He paused for a long moment.

  Sherman shifted nervously in his chair.

  “When you have done all that, you will return here in the morning and resume your work.”

  Sherman sagged against his chair. “I will still have a job?”

  “You will still have a job, if you return having done those things,” Ralph agreed.

  Sherman took a deep breath, and then nodded his head in defeat. “I will do as you wish, sir.”

  Ralph nodded, and then indicated the door. “I have quite a busy morning.” He turned to Wally. “I will expect a telegram from you this afternoon confirming Mrs. Archer is safely in your home.”

  “You will receive it,” Wally promised.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Alice was startled by a soft knock on her door. She was not usually summoned in the middle of the morning. Sleep had been a futile effort the night before. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Mrs. Murray’s disfigured, forlorn face in her mind. She heard her hopeless voice saying, there is but one way to deal with living in this place of horrors. Alice knew what she meant, because she had thought the same thing many times in the weeks of her confinement. She was not being tortured in her private room, but the idea of spending her whole life locked away was intolerable.

  Alice walked slowly to the door, wondering if Dr. Tillerson was sending her back to the ward. She considered not answering the knock, but knew whoever it was would just force their way in.

  “Hello,
Mrs. Archer.”

  Alice took a deep breath. “Hello, Miss Wade.” She fought to keep her voice calm. “Have you come to return me to the ward?”

  “No,” Miss Wade said quickly, her kind blue eyes softening with compassion. “Nothing like that.” She looked around the hallway quickly. “May I come in for a moment?”

  Mystified, Alice stepped back. “Certainly.” She didn’t miss the look of relief on Miss Wade’s face as the door closed behind her.

  “I’m on my break,” Miss Wade said nervously. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. “You should have this.”

  Alice reached for it. “What is it?” she asked quietly, certain she knew, but hoping she was wrong.

  Miss Wade took a deep breath. “Mrs. Murray had reached the end of her endurance,” she said sadly. “She left the social event right after you departed. She returned to her room alone…” Her voice faltered, and then she continued. “She was discovered last night when the other women returned to their room. Somehow, even with her almost blinded eyes, she managed to hang herself from the upper part of her window. She strapped the top part of her dress to the sill somehow, and then hung herself.” Tears filled her eyes.

  Alice dropped her face into her hands. “That poor woman,” she cried. “Poor Mrs. Murray!”

  “Yes,” Miss Wade said grimly. “What happened to her was quite horrible.”

  Alice stared at her. “What will they do with her body?”

  Miss Wade shrugged. “They have a place in the woods where they bury the dead.” Her eyes looked haunted. “I don’t know where it is.”

  Alice remembered the paper she was holding. She looked down and saw her name written on the front.

  “I found it in her hand,” Miss Wade revealed. “No one knows. I hid it in my pocket, determined you would receive it.”

  Alice stared at the paper, but didn’t open it. She wanted privacy to read Mrs. Murray’s last thoughts. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Miss Wade, obviously understanding her feelings, stood and walked to the door. She paused, and then turned back to her before opening it. “I will not see you again, Mrs. Archer. I am tendering my resignation today. I will not stay in this horrible place one more moment.” She shook her head. “I once thought this was a place that would care for people who find themselves in a very pitiful situation. I wanted to be a part of caring for them.” Her face crinkled with dismay. “I realize now that no matter how much I care, I can’t protect patients from attendants like Mrs. Bartle. If I don’t leave here, I will be the one to go quite mad.”

  Alice rose quickly and grabbed the woman’s hands, pushing aside the somber reality that when she was returned to the ward, as she most certainly would be, this gentle woman would not be there to protect her. “Thank you for your kindnesses,” she said. “And thank you for bringing me this letter. I wish you the best.” She knew Miss Wade would have a difficult time finding a job in New York City, but whatever she did next, it wouldn’t be as bad as enduring the asylum.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Archer.”

  “Please, call me Alice.” Alice pressed her hands tightly.

  Miss Wade looked down, and then back up quickly. “And my name is Phoebe. I hope you get out of here, Alice.”

  “Thank you,” Alice replied. She stepped forward to open the door. “Let me look out first. It will not be good if they see you coming out of my room. I know you’re quitting today, but there is no reason to make it more unpleasant.”

  “That would be best,” Phoebe admitted. She waited quietly for Alice’s signal that all was clear. Moments later, she disappeared around a corner.

  Alice took a deep breath, stepped back into her room, settled on her hard, narrow bed, and opened the sheet of paper.

  Dearest Mrs. Archer,

  Thank you for giving me sympathy and caring during my last night among the living. Do not feel badly for me. Whatever is waiting for me cannot possibly be as bad as the Hell I am experiencing on a daily basis. I do believe it will be quite wonderful. I leave this place here on Earth, trusting I go to a better place.

  Sincerely,

  Beatrice Murray

  Alice read the letter several times, wiped the tears from her eyes, and then sat staring out her window. She wondered if she would have the courage to do the same thing if she had found herself in the same situation. People had told her suicide was an unforgiveable sin, but she couldn’t believe God would punish a woman who had endured the torture Mrs. Murray had. She chose to believe Beatrice Murray was welcomed to the next life with open arms.

  *****

  A sharp rap startled her yet again. What was it now? Alice took a deep breath and walked to the door just as it was being pushed open. She stiffened when she recognized her visitor.

  “Mrs. Archer.”

  “Hello, Dr. Tillerson,” Alice said calmly. Her mind and heart were racing, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing it. She was quite certain she was being taken back to the ward she had been rescued from. Without Miss Wade there to act as a buffer, she needed no imagination to understand the type of treatment she was going to receive at Mrs. Bartle’s hands. She fought to control her trembling as she faced the doctor.

  Dr. Tillerson stepped back to allow two more women into the room. “Load her things into her satchels,” he ordered.

  Alice blinked in confusion. Certainly, the doctor would not allow her to take her belongings to the ward, but why was he waiting until they were packed? Why not just force her there, and then come back to dispose of the few clothes Carrie had been able to get to her?

  “Come with me,” Dr. Tillerson ordered.

  Alice complied, knowing resistance was futile. Her confusion increased when they reached a corner and turned away from the ward. She wanted to question what was happening, but the doctor’s stony rage made her unwilling to open her mouth.

  Dr. Tillerson stopped in front of a door, opened it, and stepped back. “Good-bye, Mrs. Archer,” he said shortly, before he turned on his heel and stalked away.

  Alice stared after him. What was happening? She looked at the open door, suddenly afraid to walk through it. What if she discovered something in the room even worse than what she had already endured? She had a sudden vision of Sherman waiting to take her home to a different type of prison. She held her breath, wondering if it would do any good to run.

  “Alice!”

  Alice blinked when a man appeared at the door, and then blinked again, trying to make sense out of what she was seeing. “Mr. Stratford?” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper.

  “My dear…” Wally stepped forward and grasped both her hands.

  Only then did Alice realize how cold they were.

  “You’re leaving this place, Alice.”

  Alice gaped at him, wondering if she was hearing him correctly, and terrified to hope he might actually be right. “How?” she stammered.

  Wally held up a copy of the letter Sherman had written. “Sherman left here a short time ago,” he said, “after giving Dr. Tillerson this letter, acknowledging that he put you here under false accusations, and demanding you be released immediately.”

  Alice shrank back. “Are you taking me to Sherman?” she asked fearfully.

  “Absolutely not,” Wally replied. “You are coming home with me. Nancy has prepared a room for you.”

  Alice continued to stare at him, trying to make sense out of what she was hearing. The rapid shift from being convinced she was heading back to the ward, to now being offered freedom, was more than she could comprehend. Her eyes filled with tears.

  Wally’s eyes glowed with compassion as he pulled her into the room and sat her down in front of a flickering fireplace. “I know this is a lot to take in,” he murmured. “And I know you’ve been through a terrible time. I promise I’ll tell you the whole story when I get you home, but I suspect you will not be convinced you’re free until you are actually out of this place.”

  “I’m free?” Alic
e grasped onto the one word that gave her hope. “I’m free?”

  “You’re free,” Wally said emphatically.

  “What about Sherman?” Alice asked.

  “Sherman is filing divorce papers this afternoon, and there will be ten thousand dollars in your bank account by the end of the day.” Wally’s voice was full of satisfaction.

  Alice gasped, trying to take in what she was hearing. She glanced at the door. “We can leave now?”

  Wally smiled. “We can leave now.” He stood, held out his hand, and helped Alice to her feet. “Do you want to wait for your things?”

  Alice shook her head quickly. “If you don’t mind, I will never again put on a piece of clothing I wore in this place.” She hesitated. “I know the clothing used to be your wife’s. I am so grateful, but…”

  “She will be in total agreement,” Wally assured her. He led her to the door. “Let’s get out of here.”

  *****

  Alice snuggled beneath the thick layer of blankets in the carriage, basking in the bright sun beaming down on her. She took deep breaths of the first clean air she had smelled in more than two months. The air was still cold, but emerging buds on every tree they rolled under told her spring was around the corner. She wanted to cry and laugh at the same time, but she chose silence. It was the only action she felt she could control.

  Wally seemed to understand. He glanced at her sympathetically several times, but remained quiet.

  Alice felt a surge of fear. “You’re sure the letter was legal? Can they come get me again?”

  “They cannot,” Wally said reassuringly. “You are free, Alice.”

  Alice stared into his eyes for several moments before she allowed a smile to form. “Thank you. I don’t know how this happened, but thank you.”

  “I’ll answer all your questions when we get to the house,” Wally promised.

  “And Sherman? What will happen to him?”

  “He’ll be getting what he deserves.”

  *****

  Sherman, still exhausted after a full day of court appearances and filling out paperwork, appeared in Ralph Cook’s office the next morning. He had spent a sleepless night attempting to understand how his carefully laid plans had gone so horribly awry.