A Home for Her Heart (7 page)

The other girl gave a little nod as she hurried out of the room.

“Do you want to see more photos of what we looked at on Monday, Kathleen?”

“Of course.”

She and Luke followed Elizabeth and him to the small back parlor but before any of them could take a seat, Millicent was back with a packet she handed to Elizabeth. “I’m going back to the big parlor—Julia is playing the piano and I don’t want to miss that. See you all later.”

She scurried out of the room fast as she could.

“I think we must have scared her away last time.” Elizabeth looked sad as she took a seat at the table.

“It was my fault,” John said. “I am sorry for that night.”

Elizabeth took the seat he held out for her and rewarded him with a smile. “I am, too. I wasn’t on my best behavior.”

Luke chuckled as he pulled out a chair for Kathleen and took his seat. “You two almost scared me that evening. Play nice this time.”

“We will,” John said. “They are your photographs, Elizabeth. You take the first look.”

She opened the packet and pulled out the photos. She’d taken more than John realized. She began to look at them and then handed him several and he, in turn, handed them to Kathleen, who handed them to Luke.

“These are quite good, Elizabeth. This is the second building we looked at on Monday, right?” The photo he held up was of a staircase missing several spindles, leaving an opening where a small child could easily fall through. And it also showed the dirt built up on the staircase and more cracked windows.

“It is. And thank you. They are better than I thought they were.”

“They easily show what condition the buildings are in.”

“I’ll be sure to get them recorded as to which building they were of and the date the photos were taken.” Elizabeth was quite pleased with how they turned out. They weren’t quite as good as Millicent’s but they’d do the job. “If you want any, John, feel free to take them. You’ll have articles out before I do”

“Thank you, Elizabeth. I would like this one and this one...and this one. Unless you want them.”

They were the first two of children playing in the streets or sitting on the stoops. She’d taken several of them, so she’d have others to work with. She shook her head. “No, that’s fine. I can use some of the others.”

“Why, you two can get along after all, can’t you?” Luke teased.

John glanced at Elizabeth and smiled. “We can.”

“And we do,” Elizabeth added. “Most of the time anyway.”

They all laughed and headed toward the parlor. Julia was playing one of their favorites, “The Sidewalks of New York,” and they joined the others around the piano to sing along.

John stood right behind Elizabeth and enjoyed the sound of her sweet alto and the way it blended with his tenor. The scent of whatever it was she washed her hair with wafted up as she swayed back and forth to the music. He should be working, but he’d do it later.

It was nice to spend an evening like this with friends. And it was one of the reasons he enjoyed living at Heaton House. These people were family to him. He’d miss Luke and Kathleen when they moved away, and Julia, too, for that matter. He counted on seeing the couple even after they moved out, but still things would be different. He wondered what boarders might take their place, but he knew Mrs. Heaton was selective in whom she rented to—only once or twice had she rented to someone who didn’t get along with the others.

The group sang several other songs before breaking up and heading to their rooms.

“Thanks for the photos, Elizabeth.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m going down to city hall tomorrow to see what I can find out about these buildings. I hope it doesn’t take too long, but some of the guys have told me it could take weeks to find the current owners. I’ll let you know how it’s going.”

“Thank you, John.”

His chest suddenly tightened at the smile she gave him. “You’re welcome. Good night.”

“Good night.”

He watched as she went upstairs with the other women. Working with her really hadn’t been bad at all. In fact, he’d come to enjoy it. Perhaps too much for his own good.

Chapter Seven

B
etween matching the photos to the buildings they were taken from and helping Kathleen with her wedding plans, the week passed swiftly and it was Friday before Elizabeth knew it.

She headed straight to her aunt’s apartment from work, hoping the evening would pass as fast as the week had. She would much have preferred spending the evening visiting with her aunt than going to a masquerade party. But it was for charity and she’d be able to go on the next day’s outing with the others.

Amanda let her in and led her to her aunt’s study where she had a pot of tea waiting.

“Elizabeth, dear, I’m so glad to see you,” her aunt exclaimed, jumping up and coming to give her a hug. “Come have a spot of tea and then we’ll have a bite to eat before we must get ready for this evening.”

She led Elizabeth into the parlor and quickly poured her a cup.

“Thank you, Aunt Bea. It’s good to see you, too.” She took a seat on one end of the sofa, knowing her aunt would take the other.

“You’ll love the costume I picked up for you. And I remembered to get a mask large enough to cover your beautiful face.” At that she grimaced. “I wish you weren’t so determined to hide at these kind of things.”

“I’ve told you, Aunt Bea. One of the reporters that sometimes covers these events lives at Heaton House, and while I am regretting my decision to use Mother’s maiden name instead of Papa’s, I don’t particularly want to be found out in the middle of a charity event.”

And she didn’t want it to be John who discovered she was Elizabeth Anderson Reynolds, heiress to the Charles Edward Reynolds of Boston, and not just Elizabeth Anderson.

“I do understand, dear. I wish I’d tried to talk you out of that idea at the time. But I didn’t, so part of the blame must lie on my shoulders as well as yours.”

“No, Aunt Bea, the blame rests with me. Everyone is so sweet at Heaton House, even had I let them know who I really was, I’m sure they would have accepted me sooner or later. But for them to find out now...” She shook her head.

“I’m sure they will still accept you, Elizabeth. If you’ve come to care for them, I’m sure they feel the same for you.”

Tears sprung to Elizabeth’s eyes and she jumped up and went to look out the window. “And that means they might feel I’ve betrayed their trust in me. Oh, Aunt Bea, aside from you and Papa, they are like family to me and I so hate to disappoint them.”

“Elizabeth, dear, come sit back down.”

Elizabeth did as asked and her aunt reached out to give her a hug. “I can see you’re distressed. And I do think the only way you’re going to get past it is to tell them.”

Elizabeth released a large sigh and nodded. “I know. But I don’t know when or how.”

“Mrs. Heaton and her son know and—”

“But they knew from the first. And they won’t tell anyone else. They wouldn’t feel it was their place to.”

“And it isn’t. It’s your place. But the timing should be the Lord’s. He will let you know when the time is right, and give you the words to say to your friends. He knows your heart and His timing will be perfect. Just trust in Him.”

Elizabeth nodded. “I do, Aunt Bea.” And she did. She prayed each night that the Lord would guide her in what to do. She didn’t for a minute think that He wanted her to keep her true identity secret, but she wasn’t sure how to handle it all. So she would trust that He would let her know when and how and whom to tell first.

Until then she’d have to live with the consequences of keeping her secret. There were always consequences to not being totally truthful. Elizabeth wished she’d thought about them and asked the Lord to guide her before she—

“Supper is served, ma’am,” Amanda announced.

“Come along, Elizabeth. Cook has prepared something light to hold us until later. Then I can’t wait for you to see your costume. I think you’re going to love it.”

All Elizabeth cared about was that the mask would cover enough of her face that John wouldn’t be able to tell it was her if he were there.

* * *

John dreaded these things with all that was in him. Masquerade parties were his absolute least favorite kind of event to cover, especially as he had to go in costume, too. The
Tribune
paid for the rental—otherwise he would not have accepted the assignment.

Tonight he was dressed as a steamboat captain and he had to admit he felt at home in the attire, in spite of the odd looks he garnered on the trolley. It brought back memories of steamboat trips between Natchez and New Orleans back when his dreams were down South and before—

The trolley came to a stop and jarred him out of his reverie.

It was his stop and he stepped off into one of the wealthier neighborhoods of the city, not far off Fifth Avenue. As he turned the corner and found the street he needed, he wished he’d taken a hack. At least it would have let him off at the doorstep and he wouldn’t have had to endure so many curious stares. But as John got closer to the residence and he encountered others dressed in costume all headed in the same direction, he breathed a sigh of relief. He’d be sure to get a ride back to Heaton house.

He’d reluctantly brought a mask along and donned it just as he reached the Barclay mansion, but he would take it off later so that those who wanted to get their names in the paper would know him and seek him out instead of him having to guess whom it was he was talking to.

He showed the
Tribune
’s invitation to the butler and after the man had assured himself it was indeed genuine, he was given the nod to go on in. Most of the people there were familiar with him and the fact that he wrote for the society column. They would welcome him with more warmth than the butler had.

Of course, he realized that if it weren’t for the fact that he was with the
Tribune,
they’d never give him a second of their time. To his way of thinking, there wasn’t much difference between the very wealthy in the South where he’d been raised and those here in the North.

He moved with the others toward the ballroom, looking in the other rooms as they passed each one. Mrs. Heaton’s home was decorated beautifully, with very nice furnishings, but this was another level altogether and one he wasn’t comfortable in at all.

The ornate trim work, huge wall murals and lavish furnishings made him glad he was in costume. He didn’t belong in this kind of setting and he’d be glad when the new guy got these assignments.

He made his way into the ballroom, which was already at near capacity. There were all manner of costumes, and with masks on many, it took him a while to spot the people he usually saw at this kind of event. Many of them would be leaving to go to their summer homes for the season before long. They did occasionally come back into the city for a special occasion, but for the most part they’d stay gone until late summer, early fall. He couldn’t blame them. It could get awfully hot in the city and many of them had summer homes on the water where it’d be much cooler.

John turned and spotted whom he thought were the Astors on the other side of the room and... He took a second glance. There was a young woman dressed as a flower girl who caught his attention and when she looked his way, their glances collided and John had a feeling he’d met her before, even as her face was covered with a mask. There was something about her eyes. He started her way, but she turned just then and went in another direction. In only a matter of seconds, he’d lost her in the crowd.

He shrugged. He’d probably seen her at any number of these events in the past few years. She could be the daughter of one of these couples.

He took his mask off and turned again and was surprised to see Mr. And Mrs. Barclay come up to him. They did not wear masks and it was a relief to be able to know whom he was talking to.

“Mr. Talbot, it is you, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir, it is.”

“How good to see you here,” Mr. Barclay said. “I read your article about the tenements in this morning’s paper and thought it so excellent!”

“Why thank you, sir. I’m hoping to do more articles in the future.”

“I’m sure you will. And I look forward to reading them. Something must be done about the conditions of those buildings.”

“You did a wonderful job on your article about the Ladies’ Aide child-care homes, too,” Mrs. Barclay said. “We hope we’ll get a good write-up on our party to raise money for them tonight.”

“I’ll do my best, Mrs. Barclay.”

“I know you will. You’ve been covering the efforts to help in an admirable way. You go on and mingle around. We’ll look forward to reading your next article.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” John inclined his head as the two walked off to greet other guests. They’d mentioned his article about the tenements. If he could get the people in this room to follow them, it could go a long way in furthering his career.

He smiled as he made his way around the room, hearing bits and pieces of conversation—sounded mostly like gossip to him—until the Barclays moved to a stage that had been set up and began to address their guests.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we want to get this party under way for the reason it was called. As you all know the Ladies’ Aide Society is in need of donations to open more child-care homes in the city. These are helping those living in the tenements, giving the children a safe place to stay while their parents work to make a living and try to better themselves and their families,” Mr. Barclay said.

He moved back and let his wife speak. “To explain more about it, we’ve asked Mrs. Beatrice Watson to speak about how these homes are making a difference.”

A woman John had seen at several other charity events made her way to them and looked out onto the crowd.

“On the behalf of the Ladies’ Aide Society, I thank you all for turning out for this event.”

She spoke more, but John was familiar with the speech and he looked around the room, trying to see who he could recognize. Most had masks on, but some didn’t. He’d be able to describe the costumes of many and do an overall article about the event—at least well enough to satisfy his editor and the Barclays. And maybe he could get out of there early enough to get his article written before he went to bed.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have several young ladies who will be accepting your donations.” Mrs. Watson had wasted no time getting to the reason for the party.

John turned to see her point out the young woman on her right. It was the same one he’d thought familiar earlier. She looked out around the room and her gaze met his once more. Those eyes, even from this distance, made him surer than ever that he knew her or at the very least had met her before. But with that mask covering most of her face, there was no way to tell who she was, especially from a distance. He began to move a little closer to her through the crowd.

“Our Miss Flower Girl and—” she pointed to the young woman to her left “—Marie Antoinette will be mingling among you this evening. Please empty those pockets for our good cause.”

With that, the flower girl broke eye contact with him and the two young women smiled, stepped into the crowd on opposite sides of the room, and began to mingle. The flower girl was on the other side of the room from John and he headed in that direction to see if he could recognize her voice as she spoke to the people giving donations. But each time he got close, she turned to another person trying to get her attention, or someone wanting to make sure their name got in the paper stopped him.

By the time they were called in for a late supper, he’d lost sight of her once again. After taking a quick glance around to see if he could spot the flower girl, he gave up trying to find her and decided to forgo the late supper. He’d eaten a good meal at Heaton House before he came and he’d spotted enough of those in society who would expect to see their names connected to giving to the cause of the Ladies’ Aide Society. All he had to do now was get his article written and put the flower girl out of his mind. Surely, if he knew her, she would have come up to him, wouldn’t she?

* * *

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief when she opened the door to Heaton House the next morning—even as she prayed that John hadn’t recognized her from the night before. She’d caught him heading her way several times that evening, and it was only through quick thinking on her part and him getting stopped at the most opportune time that she’d managed to stay several steps ahead of him all evening. He’d certainly looked the part of a riverboat captain, tall and broad-shouldered, and very handsome. His broad-brimmed hat shadowed his face, giving him a slightly dangerous look, like a hero in one of Luke’s dime novels. When she’d first noticed him looking at her, it’d taken her breath away.

And while she knew she needed to let her secret out, she hadn’t wanted it to be in a public place and not before she knew what to say.

Surely he couldn’t have recognized her from any distance—not with the full-face mask she’d made sure never to take off. Now she braced herself as she entered the dining room to join the others for breakfast.

“Elizabeth, you made it back and in plenty of time for our outing, too!” Kathleen exclaimed on her entrance.

Elizabeth smiled and took a quick glance in John’s direction. The look he shot her made her pulse speed up. He seemed happy to see her, and with no hint that he’d recognized her the night before. She turned and expelled a huge sigh of relief as she took a plate from the sideboard and began to fill it. “My aunt likes to sleep in on Saturday, so I told her goodbye at bedtime and set my alarm. I didn’t want to bother her cook for breakfast, but I’m glad I made it back in time to join you all.”

“Did you have a nice visit with your aunt?” John asked as she slipped into the seat he’d gotten up to pull out for her.

“I did.” Still no indication that he’d recognized her in any way the evening before.
Thank You, Lord.
“We had a very nice time catching up with each other. How was your evening?”

“Much the same as always at those kind of things. I think there was a good turnout, as usual and, Mrs. Heaton, you’ll be glad to know that I heard they took in a great deal to help the Ladies’ Aide Society with the child-care homes.”