A New York Christmas (4 page)

“No,” she replied to Harley. “I thought I would take the opportunity to write to my parents and tell them what an exciting city New York is, and that your family has been most kind to me.”

“It is our pleasure,” he answered, although his smile went no further than his lips. “I’m delighted you find New York so … invigorating. It is my city, and I admit I am proud of it. I would welcome the chance to show you some of the more colorful parts, such as Little Italy. You will be quite safe, and the food is excellent. Of course, it is best explored on foot. Or if you prefer, there is Battery Park, down by the water?”

It was a pleasant idea, and Jemima had no reason to refuse, although she admitted to herself that the invitation surprised her. She believed he made it more from
good manners than from a desire for her company. Perhaps his father had suggested he do so.

“Thank you. If you are sure you can spare the time, I would love to see Little Italy. I daresay I may not have the chance again.”

“It would be my pleasure,” he assured her. “Shall we meet here in half an hour? Please wear your overcoat. The wind is chill.”

Harley was quite right. As Jemima sat in the carriage beside him on the way toward Little Italy, the wind was indeed sharp. However, she was too interested in the sights of the bustling streets to mind. He was a good host, explaining the recent history of many of the neighborhoods (including those they would not visit, such as Hell’s Kitchen, down by the river).

“Started when they put the tanneries there,” he told her. “Made the river filthy, of course, but industry does. Lot of Irish immigrants, fleeing the Great Famine. After the Civil War the population got a whole lot larger, and gang warfare started.”

Harley was more talkative than she had expected, and she enjoyed his stories of the city and its different areas. He loved the life, the variety and the courage of
the people, and his face grew animated as he spoke. She caught a glimpse of a very different man from the rather stiff one who occupied the mansion. She wondered fleetingly what the arrangement would be when Harley married. He was the older brother, so would Brent then find his own home? Or would they all remain under one roof? The house was certainly large enough.

“This is Little Italy—Mulberry Street, to be exact. Would you like to walk a bit?” Harley invited as the carriage drew to the curb. “Perhaps we could have a hot cup of coffee? There is a place a couple of hundred yards away, not very glamorous, but the coffee is good.”

Jemima accepted with pleasure, and fifteen minutes later they were seated in a crowded but most agreeable small restaurant. All around her people were speaking in Italian, a musical language, much of it loud. The walls were hung with pictures of Naples and Sicily, and there were Chianti bottles on the tables.

Harley leaned toward her. “Miss Pitt, may I confide in you? I am certain you have Delphinia’s happiness very much at heart, as I have my brother’s.”

Suddenly she realized why he had brought her here. It was far more than a matter of hospitality, or even of
pride in his city. He was deeply concerned about something and it showed clearly now in his face.

“Of course,” she agreed, putting her coffee down and giving him her full attention.

He considered a moment before he spoke again, as if carefully formulating his words.

“I am not sure how much Phinnie knows about her mother, Maria Cardew, although that may not be her name now …”

Jemima was startled at the mention of Maria’s name, especially coming from Harley. She had assumed none of the Albrights wished to speak about her.

Harley saw the expression and smiled bleakly.

“I’m sorry to raise the subject, but you seem by far the best person to turn to. You clearly care for Delphinia and are taking your role in her life most seriously. Your first concern is always her well-being.”

Jemima felt herself blushing. He was praising her where she felt she had not yet deserved it sufficiently.

“You are modest,” he said quickly. “But what I say is true. Also, if I have understood correctly, your father is a man of some wisdom and experience in matters of … I really don’t know how to put this delicately … of
criminal acts …” His phrasing was awkward, yet he did not look discomfited. She realized with a rush of very mixed emotions that he was too confident in himself to care what she thought of him.

“He is head of Special Branch,” she said coolly. “They are responsible for any threat to the safety of the nation in a criminal or espionage kind of way.”

He looked momentarily blank.

“Not military attack,” she added for clarification. “Why do you mention my father? Do you think Maria Cardew is a danger to New York?”

This time it was he who blushed, and a flash of appreciation gleamed in his eyes for an instant.

“No, of course not,” he answered. “She is simply a woman of poor judgment and even poorer morals. Despite her being absent for most of Delphinia’s life, I am afraid that she may turn up at the wedding. If that happened, it would be in appalling taste and desperately embarrassing. And goodness only knows who she might bring with her. Some of her associates were …” He spread his hands in a gesture of hopelessness. “It might be better if I left it to your imagination. I don’t wish to use language you would prefer not to hear.”

Jemima’s imagination was racing. What kind of woman was Maria Cardew? If she had been impossible to understand before, she was now also frightening.

Jemima could see in her mind’s eye the vision of a cathedral wedding, the high-society guests in their gorgeous clothes, with their stiff faces and their polite laughter. And then suddenly Maria Cardew, perhaps drunk, loud-voiced, announcing that she was the mother of the bride. Phinnie would never live it down. Ruin had been brought about by less.

How could any woman twice so injure her own child?

“Is she mad?” she asked quite seriously.

Harley Albright looked at her with something close to gratitude.

“I see that you understand. Yes, I think perhaps she is, and more deserving of our pity than our anger. But the damage she would do to our family, especially Phinnie, who is about to become one of us …” He shrugged. “I don’t need to describe it. Even the kindest people would find it impossible to forget. The less kind would make it their business to see that no one else ever did!”

Jemima winced at the thought of it.

He misunderstood. “Of course we have enemies, Miss
Pitt. It would be dangerously naïve to think that we didn’t. We have wealth and power. My father is a generous and good man, but he has been highly successful in business, far more so than some of his acquaintances. My mother was beautiful. That alone can sow the seeds of envy. There are those who would rejoice at our downfall.”

Jemima waited for him to continue. She sipped her coffee, but it had lost its flavor.

“That is why I ask you to help me,” Harley said gently. “I believe you will, for Phinnie’s sake, not mine.”

She was puzzled. “What can I do? I can see perfectly how awful it would be if Mrs. Cardew were to turn up at the wedding, but what could any of us do to stop her?” She frowned. “Why do you think she even knows about it?”

“Ah …” He let out a sigh. “That is the crux of the whole situation. I am almost certain that she is in New York.”

“In New York? That’s terrible!” Now she could see the situation perfectly.

“Yes … yes it is,” he agreed. “I suppose we should have foreseen it. After all, the marriage was announced as the wedding of the year. I imagine that even in other cities it will have been reported in the society columns
of newspapers. If Mrs. Cardew read of it, she could be misguided enough to come.”

“Surely she must see, after all these years, that she would not be welcome?” Jemima protested. “I don’t know the circumstances of her leaving, but nothing alters the fact of it. Phinnie doesn’t want to see her. How could she?”

“Exactly.” Harley nodded grimly. “I am aware of the circumstances. My mother told me, shortly before she died. But I prefer not to discuss them. Suffice it to say that they could hardly be worse. Will you help me?”

“Of course. But I still don’t understand what we can do.”

“I have given it a great deal of thought,” he replied earnestly. “I can think of nothing else but to find her, and persuade her that she would hurt Phinnie, perhaps irreparably, if she were to appear at the wedding. If she wishes to see her, which I suppose is possible, we could promise to arrange it, but privately.” His face registered extreme distaste. “I would even be willing to pay her a certain amount, if she remains several miles away, perhaps even in another city, and never makes the relationship known. I hope that will not be necessary, but as a last resort—”

“Then she could extort money from you indefinitely,” Jemima warned. The moment the words were out of her mouth, she wondered if she had been wise to say them.

Harley stared down at the table for several moments before meeting her eyes.

“I had thought of that, Miss Pitt. That is why I hope to persuade her of the unpleasantness of that course. She would earn Delphinia’s undying contempt, to say the least. I don’t know if it will work. I am unaware of what has become of her and what manner of person she is now.”

“And what was she like before?” Jemima asked the question that she knew her father would have asked.

“At the time of her marriage to Cardew?” His eyes widened. “A pretty and ambitious young woman who had already had more than her share of romantic adventures, with all manner of men, but who knew how to please an upper-class Englishman in a foreign country, a man who had no idea such women even existed.”

Jemima doubted very much that upper-class Englishmen were anything like as innocent as Harley Albright supposed, but this was not the time to say so.

“I see. Now we are twenty years later, her looks may
not be as attractive, nor her health as good,” she pointed out.

His face tightened. He looked bleak and even a little frightened.

“Of course. You are quite right. We need to find her, then deal with her in whatever way seems best. I need you to help me, Miss Pitt. You seem to have just the right combination of common sense and imagination, which, coupled with my reputation and my knowledge of New York, should be sufficient.”

She nodded. “I will do all that I can. Where shall we start?” New York was a teeming city full of all manner of people; this she knew after barely a week. Maria Cardew could be anywhere, and none of the Albrights had seen her for nearly two decades. She could have changed entirely since then.

“What would your father do?” Harley asked with perfect seriousness.

Pitt would have sent one of his men on the job, but she did not say that. It was certainly not the answer Harley Albright was looking for. She thought hard while the minutes ticked away, and he waited, watching her intently.

She must concentrate her mind, think logically. Most important of all, she must rescue Phinnie from a ruinous embarrassment. Her future life in New York, and with Brent, would depend upon Maria’s not turning up and spoiling it all. Society here would be just like society in London: It would never forget a tragedy, still less a scandal.

Also, in a way, she was representing the intelligence and the standing of her own family.

“She will have found accommodation somewhere,” she began thoughtfully. “Either she is staying with a friend, or she has a house or a room. She will be aware that she is not welcome at the Albright home—she will know where it is, but stay out of sight.”

Harley nodded but did not interrupt.

“Before we begin to look for her, it would be good to make note of all we know about her. We will have to ask questions of people. The more precise they are, the less time we will waste.”

He frowned. “She could be anywhere.” His voice held a note of defeat.

“No,” she answered, far more firmly than she felt. “There are many areas she will not be, and even among those where she might be, some will be more likely than
others. In London I could tell you, but here you will have to think of it.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“She will need to feel safe.” Jemima had tested her ideas in her mind, and hoped she was as reasonable as she sounded. “If there is an area she stayed in before, she might choose it. We all prefer the known to the unknown. It is both easier and pleasanter. Also, she must be able to afford it. Do you know her circumstances? How does she support herself?” The moment the words were out of her mouth she regretted them. The answer was one she could guess, and preferred not to know. But, perhaps in her fifties, Maria had changed her ways. She might well be obliged to.

Harley pursed his lips in an expression of distaste. “She was always good at living off men, one way or another.” His voice lifted. “But I see the point of your questions. That does narrow it down considerably. I shall think of them and give you answers. Is there anything else?”

“Yes. What does she look like? Some things don’t change much. How tall is she? She may be gray-haired now, but eyes and skin tone do not change so much. What about her voice, her mannerisms? Where might
she eat? Is there something she likes that would take her to a particular place?”

“Likes? To eat?” He looked uncertain.

“Yes. When you are far from home, in trouble of any kind, it is natural to turn to something familiar and pleasant. Chocolates? A special kind of tea? A place where you can be alone? A view that has meaning? A particular park to walk in, pictures in a museum, anything?”

He began to smile. “Yes, I see what you mean. You are a credit to your father, Miss Pitt. Would you like another cup of coffee, or shall we return home and begin our quest?”

She rose to her feet. “I think we should begin as soon as possible, Mr. Albright. We cannot afford otherwise.”

For the first time in their acquaintance, he smiled at her with genuine warmth.

The next three days were exciting and of absorbing interest to Jemima. Harley came up with an account of all that he knew about Maria Cardew, which turned out to be a bit more than Jemima had expected.