by Marie Silk
“I don’t like to wait around this neighborhood, Ma’am. You’d better hurry if you want me to be here when you get back. Or maybe you can try again in the daylight.”
“I’m afraid I can’t wait that long.” Serena took a deep breath as she stepped out of the car. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”
She disappeared into the darkness and tried not to jump at every sound she heard from the alley. Men lay with their backs against the building—some of them sleeping—others not. The awake ones stared at her. Serena cleared her throat and announced as confidently as she could. “I’m looking for Giovanni.” She felt arms grab her from behind.
“You don’t need Giovanni, sweetheart,” a man breathed into her ear. “You just need me.”
Serena struggled from his grasp and looked desperately for the driver and the car she arrived in, which were no longer in sight. Another man from the alley approached her menacingly. “Looks like you’re here to stay.”
“Hey!” a gruff voice shouted from behind a door. “Get off her.” The men backed away from Serena when the one with the gruff voice emerged into the alley. He turned to Serena. “I don’t know who you are, but you should leave.”
“I’m looking for a man called Giovanni—the investigator,” she whimpered.
The men in the alley laughed mockingly. “Did you hear that? ‘Giovanni the Investigator’!” guffawed one of them. “It almost sounds honorable!”
The man with the gruff voice glared at the others. He motioned for Serena to follow him through one of the doors. Serena reasoned that she might be safer with him than standing in the alley with the others. She hurried in after him.
Once they were inside, the man closed the door behind them and lit a candle in the dark room to reveal the few humble furnishings. He gestured toward a wooden rocking chair and Serena sat down. The man seated himself on a crate across from her and looked at her curiously. “How’d you hear about me?”
Serena felt her chin trembling. “Are you Giovanni?” The man nodded. “I heard people in town say that you can find anyone. I’m looking for—I must find my daughter. She is three years of age and she has gone missing.”
Giovanni shook his head. “That isn’t the sort of case I usually take on. Sorry.” He stood up to show her to the door.
“Wait!” she cried. “I have the money just here.” Her shaking hands held out the envelope to him.
Giovanni looked at her pitifully, but took the envelope and counted the bills inside. “I don’t look for missing children. I usually find people who owe money to other people. I can’t help you.” He closed the envelope and handed it back to Serena.
“Please,” she begged. “It has already been too long and I’m at the end of my rope! I’ll die if I don’t see her again!”
“I’m not going to give you false hope,” he said gruffly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you back through the alley so you don’t have to deal with those characters again.” Serena cried softly behind him. Giovanni turned around to look at her. Then he reluctantly asked, “How long has she been missing?”
Serena felt a spark of hope, but despaired at the answer she had to give him. “It’s been at least a year. She went missing during the first influenza outbreak.”
He looked at the floor. “Where was she last seen?”
“I—I’m not certain.”
“You weren’t with her?”
Serena felt her shoulders slump forward. “No, I was not.”
“What about your husband?”
Serena took a deep breath. “I don’t have a husband.”
Giovanni nodded. “Because of the War.”
Serena hesitated before she blurted the truth. “I was not married. My friends here in Pittsburgh raised my daughter as their own, but they passed away in the outbreak. My daughter could not be found in the house.”
“Could the girl’s father have taken her?” he asked.
Serena shook her head. “He wanted nothing to do with her. He deserted me the moment I told him I was with child.”
“I see,” he replied. “How about any other relatives of yours? Or a neighbor of the house she was at?”
Serena breathed in exasperation. “She’s not with my relatives. I questioned every neighbor for several streets but no one knew where she was.”
Giovanni handed her a torn piece of paper. “Write down her name and the address of your friends. And the name of your child’s father. If you have a telephone number, write that too. Otherwise write your address where I can send a post.”
Serena felt her heart leap in her chest. “Then you will look for her?”
“I don’t know that I can turn up anything, but I’ve got some time to spare…I can try…” he answered with reluctance.
Serena put her arms around his neck. “Thank you! I am very grateful!”
Giovanni stood awkwardly while she embraced him and he cleared his throat. “Like I said, I don’t know if I can turn up anything, but I’ll give it a shot. Write down what I told you and we’ll get you back to the train station.”
The next morning at Davenport House, Clara was walking toward Mary’s bedroom and peered in the doorway. “Oh good, you’re home,” she said, entering the room. “I wondered if you will come to Philly with me today. We can talk about plans for the ball and buy our new dresses!”
Mary was sprawled on the bed and sighed wearily. “I’m very tired,” she replied. “I’ll wear one of the dresses I already have.”
Clara pouted in response. “But it is a masquerade! You do not have a mask yet, and how do you know it will match one of your dresses?”
Mary sat up slowly. “I’m sorry, Clara. I know how much you love to shop, but I’m exhausted. I can scarcely keep my eyes open.”
“It’s no wonder with how hard you’ve been working,” Clara replied in a scolding tone. “Did you even come home last night?”
“The mother had a difficult birth,” Mary groaned. “I only came home an hour ago.”
Clara’s tone changed to concern. “I’m worried for you, Mary. You really ought to rest more in your condition.”
“I wish I could, but unless the town gains another midwife, there is no one but me. William said that pregnant women cannot return to the clinic for their births until the outbreak is over.” She stifled a yawn so she could continue. “I am the only one who can help them now. Perhaps you can choose a mask for me on your shopping trip. And if you find a dress to match with a waist that is more forgiving than these awful dresses…”
Clara grinned. “I’ve heard of the new fashions that are coming, in which the dresses might flow with us as we walk and not constrain us so tightly.”
“Thank goodness,” Mary said. Then she proceeded shyly, “I left my corset at home for the last two births I attended.”
Clara laughed. “Who knew that you could be such a rebel?”
“Well, it was late at night, and I was not going to wake the maids to help me,” Mary explained. “William said the corsets are not so good for women who are expecting anyway.”
“I agree completely. I’ll see what I can find for you in Philly.”
Mary giggled. “Thank you, Clara. I look forward to seeing whatever fashion you choose for me.”
Shortly after Clara left, Mary was surprised to see Ethan come to her room. He knocked gently on the open door. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Come in!” Mary answered in delight. “How have you been, dear brother?”
“I’m alright,” he said. “But how are you, Mary? Have you even had breakfast today?”
Mary sighed. “I suppose I forgot to.”
“I can get you something from the kitchen,” he offered.
“Thank you, but I will go downstairs in a moment. What did you wish to see me about?”
Ethan smiled shyly and seated himself on a chair near the bed where he sat quietly, deciding what he would say. “Well, I think it’s time—I think I might like to—” he stammered, “—I think I should probab
ly learn to drive a car.”
Mary laughed. “I don’t suppose it would hurt to learn. It does not mean you have to give up horses altogether, you know.”
“I could never do that,” he replied. “It’s just that I was so sure I would never resort to driving a car. I guess you could say I’m changing with the times. I want to ask Sam to show me, but I wondered if we could use your car.”
“Of course,” she answered. “I’m proud of you for trying something new.”
“Thank you.” Ethan kissed her on the cheek before he left the room. “Don’t forget to eat some breakfast, Mary.”
Later that evening at the house, Clara was admiring the new dresses she had purchased in Philadelphia. She heard a familiar voice behind her. “That dress will look marvelous on your figure, my dear.”
She spun around. “Lawrence!” she cried, running to hug him.
He held a bouquet of flowers in his hand and kissed her on the cheek. “Good evening.”
“I am glad you’re here. Look at this brilliant mask I bought for you in Philly today!”
Lawrence chuckled. “I’ll wear it if it makes you happy, my dear.”
“It would make me happy indeed. I cannot wait for this ball!”
Lawrence set his suitcase on the floor near the bed and sat down. “Who’s that fellow driving the car with Sam in front of the house?”
“I don’t know who you mean,” Clara answered. “I have not even seen Sam today.”
“You haven’t? Didn’t you say you were shopping in Philadelphia?”
“Phillip Valenti drove me,” she answered distractedly. “Now I cannot decide between the blue dress or the black one. What do you think, dear? I have masks to match them both.”
“Who did you say drove you?” Lawrence questioned.
“Phillip Valenti, our neighbor. I suppose you have not met him yet. He chauffeurs for us sometimes.” A look of realization crossed her face. “Oh, it must have been Ethan who you saw driving with Sam. I suppose you have not met him yet, either. He is Abigail’s husband and Mary’s brother. Sam is teaching him to drive now.” Clara turned to look at Lawrence. His mood seemed suddenly changed and he stared at the floor. “What is it?” asked Clara.
He answered in a low voice. “If you need to go somewhere, have Sam drive you. I don’t want you asking that other fellow again.”
Clara was bewildered. “Who, Ethan?”
“No, the one who took you today.”
“Phillip Valenti? Why shouldn’t I ask him?”
“Because I don’t want an Italian driving my wife around town!”
Clara’s mouth hung open in shock. “Lawrence! The Valentis are good friends of ours! Perhaps once you meet Phillip and Serena, you’ll see there is nothing to—”
“Out of the question!” he interrupted. “Now Clara, remember that you already have your way with everything else in this house, but on this, I have to put my foot down! No wife of mine will have anything to do with that family!”
Clara felt tears stinging behind her eyes. “You have barely been in the house ten minutes and we are already fighting. You are tired from your journey, and worn from attending to your mother all this while. Let’s not fight about this or anything else tonight. Please, Lawrence.”
“I suppose we can talk about it later,” he acquiesced, lying back on the bed and closing his eyes.
“Thank you,” she responded softly. “I’ll have the maids send up refreshments for us and we may catch up on all that has happened since you were last here.”
“Very good, my dear,” he replied wearily. “As long as it makes you happy.”
Chapter 3
Mary giggled as she approached her motor car in the front drive. “You look like a natural,” she said to Ethan.
Sam climbed out of the car as Ethan smiled proudly from the driver’s seat. “Hop in, Mary. I’ll take you for a spin. It’s easy once you get the hang of it. Easier than riding a horse.” He got out to help Mary into the car.
“If it’s so easy, then perhaps I should learn to drive myself,” Mary told him. Sam and Ethan quietly stared at her. “What? You don’t think I can drive a car?”
“Um—it’s just that—well you’d be the only woman driver I’ve ever seen,” Sam replied carefully. “But sure, you could probably do it.”
Mary laughed. “Well it was not so long ago that I never dreamed I could deliver a baby, but now I am the only midwife in the county. Learning to drive will surely be easy in comparison. Besides, I do not like to take you away from your duties so often or wake you in the middle of the night for a birth.”
Sam breathed in relief. “You’ve got me convinced, Mrs. Hamilton.”
Ethan grinned at Mary. “You’ll be a natural in no time.”
Mary appeared confident. “Just be sure to not tell William before I can tell him. I want it to be a surprise!”
Upstairs in the house, Abigail held the baby in her arms while she watched Ethan, Mary, and Sam from her bedroom window. She giggled when she saw Mary climb into the driver’s seat while the men stood near, pointing to the pedals and steering wheel. “What do you suppose your aunt is up to now?” she cooed to baby Patrick. There was a knock at her door just then. “Come in,” she answered. When she turned around, she was startled to see Lawrence walking into her bedroom.
“Hello—Mr. Collins—” she stammered. “Does Clara need me?”
“No, I just came to talk to you for a minute,” he answered, looking around the room. “Clara tells me that you paid her recently for your accommodations at the house.”
“Yes, I did arrange it with her.”
“Now that I’ve come home, you can arrange it directly with me. I don’t want Clara to be bothered with these things. But I do need to know if you have paid rent for your child yet. I know my wife is generous, and may have been too shy to mention that your house rent has doubled since there are two of you now instead of only one…”
Abigail was hesitant. “I only paid for myself.”
“It’s alright,” Lawrence said casually. “I’ll consider it paid in full if you give me twenty for now.”
“Twenty dollars?” she asked nervously.
“Is that a problem?”
“It’s just that Clara and I have not discussed it yet.”
“As I said, now that I am home, I will handle these things. Do you have the twenty here?”
Abigail wanted to lie and say that the money was not in the room, but she also wanted him to leave as quickly as possible. She laid the baby in the wooden cradle and reached into the drawer of her bedside table for her purse. “Here is twenty, Mr. Collins,” she said, handing him the money.
Lawrence abruptly took the bills from her hand and stuffed them into his pocket. Much to Abigail’s relief, he left the room.
After he went downstairs, Lawrence crossed paths with Fiona in the Hall. “Hello Fiona. Where is my lovely wife?”
“Mrs. Collins is in the library, Sir,” Fiona answered, then quickly walked away.
Lawrence went into the library to find Clara rifling through papers on the desk. “Good afternoon,” he said. “Are you working on invitations for your masked ball?”
Clara laughed. “Those invitations went out long ago. I am looking for a document, but I’m afraid I’ve mislaid it.”
“What is it? Maybe I can help you.”
Clara sighed. “It’s the title deed for the parcel of land that I sold to Sam. I said that I would take the deed to him today, but now I don’t know where it went.”
“My dear, how many times must I tell you that I will handle these matters when I am home? Wouldn’t you rather be preparing for the ball?”
“I suppose I would, but if I cannot find this document, I must have the surveyor draw up another one.”
“Leave it to me, my dear. Just show me the estate map and Sam’s contract and I’ll meet with the surveyor when I go to town today.”
“That would be helpful,” admitted Clara. “The parcel is m
arked on the map just here. But I never had a written contract with Sam.”
Lawrence raised his eyebrows. “Why didn’t you put it in writing? We’ll need it for our records.”
“Sam is an honorable young man. His word is enough for me,” Clara replied.
“Clara, this is a significant transaction, not some confirmation to attend a party. It really should be in a written agreement.”
“I know,” she sighed. “But the thing is, Sam can’t read. I don’t see how much good it would do to put it in writing anyway.”
Lawrence was quiet for a moment, then looked up at Clara. “Go see to your party arrangements, my dear. Leave the matter of the land to me.”
“Thank you,” she breathed in relief, moving away from the desk so that Lawrence could sit down. She hugged his shoulders and kissed his cheek. “It’s good to have you home again.”
Later that afternoon, Sam timidly entered the library where Lawrence was waiting for him. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Collins?”
“Come on in, Sam. I understand you’ve been waiting for that document from my wife.”
Sam approached the desk and stood there awkwardly. “That’s right, Sir.”
Lawrence held out a paper to Sam. “Have a look at this and see that everything is in order.”
Sam took the paper from him and stared at it blankly for a few moments. “Uh—yes Sir—everything seems to be in order.”
“Very good,” replied Lawrence, handing a pen to Sam. “Then sign both of these papers. One is for my records and the other is for you to keep.”
Sam took the pen from Lawrence and drew an “X” on the papers as he had learned to.
“It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Sam,” Lawrence told him as he filed one of the papers in the desk drawer.
“Yes Sir,” Sam replied. He left the library with the document in his hand.
Later that evening at the Valentis’ farmhouse, Serena was just returning from her trip to Pittsburgh. Phillip looked at her expectantly when she walked through the door. “We’re just about to have supper. How’d it go?”
