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Authors: M. Louisa Locke

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Nate pulled the team to a stop at one of the hitching posts at the back of the Conservatory and turned to search Laura’s face, alerted by the deliberately light tone she was using that this was more than a casual question.

“If I remember correctly, the Plymouth Pilgrims was the name given to the Union troops captured in the Battle of Plymouth, North Carolina, a year before the war was over. They ended up in the infamous Andersonville Prison. God rest their souls. Even as a boy, I heard rumors about what happened. There was corruption, torture, and most of the prisoners died. If your friend lived through that hell-hole, I suspect he doesn’t much want to talk about it.”

“He isn’t my friend,” Laura said sharply,
then seemed to reconsider, speaking so quietly that Nate wasn’t sure he heard her correctly. “At least not anymore.”

Chapter Eight

Sunday evening, January 11, 1880

 

“THE INCOMPETENT TEACHERS: Not only influential politicians, but prominent churches and benevolent societies had insisted, he said, that their favorites and protégés should be provided for in the School Department, irrespective of their Qualifications." ––San Francisco Chronicle, 1879

 

“She never would talk to me about the man in the alley. She got upset when I brought it up, so I let the subject drop.” Nate stood in front of the parlor fireplace, the heat releasing the scent of wet wool.

When Annie saw how soaked Nate and his sister’s coats were when they returned from their outing, she sent Laura straight up to her room under the care of Kathleen, with instructions to get her into dry clothes in time to go down to the light supper that was served Sunday evenings. She began to pour out cups of tea for Nate and herself from the large pot sitting on the table next to the settee where she was sitting. This parlor was more elegant and much larger than the one across the hall where she met Madam Sibyl’s clients. In addition to the silk brocade-covered settee, and the two matching wing-backed chairs on either side of the fireplace, there was an old up-right piano and enough chairs and small tables scattered around the room to accommodate everyone on the occasional evening when all nine boarders migrated to this room after dinner.

“Nate, come get this tea while it is hot. Mrs. O’Rourke has outdone herself once again. There are turkey sandwiches, some fresh horseradish, and I believe that the cookies are your favorite oatmeal. I also promised I would bring you down to the kitchen before you left. I think she has made up another package of food to take home with you. After I told her about how wretched your boarding house cook was, she seems determined to supplement your fare as often as she can.”

“I will be glad to pay her my compliments in person. You can tease me all you want, but her little packages are a godsend.” Nate came over and sat down next to her on the settee and took the cup of tea in one hand, grabbing a sandwich with the other.

Annie let him eat in peace while she sipped her tea. She’d attended the Sunday dinner just a few hours earlier, the only meal she routinely took with her boarders, and she didn’t have room for one more bite. She loved the routine of Sundays. She got up late and had breakfast in her room while she read the stack of papers from other cities that had made their way to San Francisco during the week. She was searching for the bits and pieces of news that would help her decide what advice to give Madam Sibyl’s business clients. Sometimes she would accompany Barbara Hewitt and Jamie to church. Lately, having noticed that her boarder, the love-smitten David Chapman, was tagging along, she had begged off going out of sympathy for the poor man. Usually
, Nate came to visit sometime after three, when dinner was done, and took her for a walk or occasionally for a ride. Then back they would come to their cozy chats by the fireside. Even though the door to the hallway was open, as was proper, she loved the sense of intimacy she got when she sat next to him, talking.

When she saw that Nate’s eating had slowed, she said, “Laura seemed genuine when she thanked you for the outing.”

“Yes, I was pleased to see some of her old enthusiasm return while we went around the Conservatory. I was impressed at her knowledge of botany. She certainly got a good education at San Jose. It turns out, however, she isn’t content with what she learned there, and I think she is afraid my parents won’t be pleased.”

Nate then told her about Laura’s plans to attend the University of California with the ultimate goal of becoming a lawyer and her unhappiness with her friend’s unexpected decision to marry. He concluded by saying, “You would be proud of me. I didn’t say a word in opposition to her plans.”

“I would hope not,” Annie replied tartly. She leaned over and took his hand in hers. “Do you really believe that your parents would object?”

“I honestly don’t know. Father was reluctant at first to even let her move to San Jose to get her teacher’s certificate. Mother was adamant that she
go, but I think she primarily wanted her to have a chance to meet and marry someone besides one of the local ranchers. Laura and I have talked about this before. While Mother never complains about her life, there is a kind of wistfulness in her voice when she speaks about her two years at a finishing school and the one short year she spent teaching before she married.”

Annie patted
his hand and said, “I think your mother and mine might have had a lot in common. My mother taught for a few years before marriage as well. Father always told me that if she hadn’t married him and had been in better health, he was sure she would have done something extraordinary, like found a school.” As usual, memories of her departed parents saddened her.

Nate put an arm around her shoulders and took her right hand and brought it up to his lips, kissing it, and Annie felt comforted. They sat together in companionable silence for
awhile until the sound of voices in the hallway, no doubt the boarders coming down to supper, reminded them both of the proprieties. Nate moved away slightly, although he continued to hold her right hand in his, now safely covered by the material in her skirts.

Annie cleared her throat and said, “If I understood you correctly, Laura was particularly upset because she felt that her friend Miss
Wilks had failed her in some fashion.”

“Yes, she was quite incensed. According to Laura, she and Miss
Wilks had made some sort of pledge that they would support each other in their future career paths, Laura as a lawyer, Miss Wilks as a doctor. Laura seems to feel her friend’s decision to marry is a kind of betrayal. I think Miss Wilks was Laura’s first true female friend. I met her two or three times when Laura brought her home with her on holidays. Her own family lives down the coast near Santa Barbara. She seemed nice enough and quite fond of Laura.”

Thinking of some of the passionate friendships she had witnessed at the academy she attended before her marriage, Annie remarked, “Oh dear, how hurt she must feel. Laura told me how excited she was to visit Hattie on Friday. I had hoped that she might be more forthcoming with her friend about the assault than she has been with us. Do you know if she had a chance to tell Hattie about what happened?”

“No, from what she said, Miss Wilks had no sooner dropped the bombshell that she was going to get married when the groom-to-be showed up. Laura sounded scandalized that he just knocked at the door to Miss Wilks’ room and came on in. Who would have thought my little sister was such a prude?”

Annie blushed,
remembering a few of the occasions when she and Nate got to spend precious time alone together. Recently, he was careful to meet with her only in public. Not that he wasn’t affectionate. Whether they were in a carriage or walking along the pathways at Woodward's Gardens or just sitting together in the parlor, he always made her feel like she was the only person alive in the world. Yet she sometimes wished he wasn’t as restrained and protective of her reputation. What would he think if she threw herself into his arms and told him how she couldn’t stop dreaming of what it would be like to create a child with him, to…

Nate broke the silence, saying, “Laura indicated she’d hoped for a chance to talk to her friend about something that was bothering her. I do think she might open up to you if you pushed a little. I know she respects you.”

“I would be glad to if you don’t think she will mind,” Annie said, hoping he didn’t notice the blush she felt staining her cheeks.

“I would be particularly interested if she tells you anything about a male classmate she alluded to. She didn’t mention his name, but he evidently was a Union soldier. She was very emphatic that he was
not
a friend.”

“Oh, ho! Well, I will look into that, but I won’t promise I will tell you everything she tells me. Sometimes there are things an older brother shouldn’t know, for his own sake.”

Nate looked slightly startled and then smiled at her. “I will rely on your excellent judgment. But speaking of your judgment, I wondered if I could ask for your advice about something that came up today at the firm.”

“Of course. Is it the new trial Mr. Cranston has you working on?”

“No, this is actually my case. Do you remember the big scandal last October when some of the city school board members were accused of taking bribes in exchange for placing women in certain teaching positions?”

“Oh yes, but I thought there wasn’t anything to it, just part of the general acrimony over this last election. Does this have anything to do with the uproar over the new school board’s decision to lower teaching salaries?”

“Quite possibly. Mr. Emory, one of the newly elected board members, came to see me today. Evidently, the scandal last fall was started by an anonymous letter sent to the Board of Education office, and last week another letter arrived. This one accused him and the Girls’ High Vice Principal of using their influence to get a position for a Mrs. Anderson. Emory said Mrs. Anderson is a family friend, recently widowed with a small son, and she was given a part-time job teaching at Girls' High this fall. I believe she teaches the classes in art, music, and drama.”

“Had she been teaching prior to this year?”

“Not recently,” Nate said. “According to Emory, before her marriage she did teach but in the primary grades. The letter stated that she didn’t have the necessary certificate that teachers at the high school level are supposed to have.”

“Ah, yes.” Annie nodded. “Given the recent reduction in primary school teachers’ salaries, I would imagine if an unqualified teacher was given a plum position teaching at Girls' High, this would cause some bitterness and perhaps an anonymous letter of complaint. Did Mr. Emory admit to playing a role in getting this family friend hired?”

“He was adamant that he hadn’t done any such thing. Yet he then went on to say there was precedent for teachers being hired for the higher grade levels without the higher certificates if they were employed in a part-time position. Made me wonder if he was being completely truthful. He asked me to look into what recourse he had to fight this ‘defamation’ of his character. Since the letter was anonymous, there isn’t a lot he can do. However, if this results in any kind of formal investigation, I would, of course, be glad to represent him.”

Annie
frowned, trying to remember the facts from a series of newspaper articles she’d read right before Christmas about the Board’s actions. “I don’t believe I have heard of Mr. Emory, and I know the names of most of the prominent businessmen in the city. Who is he?”

“He owns the City of Hills Distillery. He was the only Democrat elected to the school board this fall
. The rest were Republicans or members of the Workingmen’s Party.”

Annie thought for a moment. Then she said, “If that is true, it does suggest a political motivation. Emory must be pretty popular to have won any position, what with the Workingmen’s Party syphoning off votes from the Democrats the way it did.”

“Emory said he knew he might be in for some trouble when he sided with the teachers last month during their protests against the reduction in salaries. He spoke at that rally they held.”

“My, my,” Annie laughed. “I can’t imagine that went over well with the Republicans on the school board. Does he think that the anonymous letters came from another board member, not a disaffected teacher?”

“He was too politic to say, but I think this is why he is taking the anonymous letter seriously.”

“What of Mrs. Anderson? It seems that she has more to lose in terms of her reputation, as well as her livelihood, if this became a public fight.”

Annie well knew the anxiety of being a widowed woman maneuvering through the shoals of polite society. It was one of the reasons she had worked to keep her own identity and that of Madam Sibyl separate and one of the reasons she hoped to get rid of the fiction that she was clairvoyant in the near future. On the other hand, it wouldn’t be surprising if it turned out that Mr. Emory had used his personal influence to help a young, and possibly very attractive, woman.

She continued. “Do you know if Mr. Emory is married?”

“Yes he is, although I can see that we are thinking along the same path.” Nate chuckled, then turned serious. “I did ask him if he could bring Mrs. Anderson into the office so I could ask about her hiring, make sure there aren’t any surprises. I will represent him in any case, but it would make me feel better if I thought I had all the facts. That’s why I wanted to ask you if you thought Jamie’s mother would be willing to talk to me about Mrs. Anderson since she also teaches at Girls' High. See if she has heard any rumors about her and her teaching appointment.”

Annie hesitated. Barbara Hewitt was such a reserved woman. It had taken months, and a rat
her disturbing event last fall, to get her to the point where she was comfortable enough to call Annie by her first name. Annie thought that Barbara’s marriage might have been as unhappy as her own since she never mentioned Jamie’s father. But she could be wrong. Unremitting grief over the loss of that husband could explain her reticence. In any event, she didn’t know how Barbara Hewitt would feel about gossiping about one of her fellow teachers.

“I will ask her. But I’ll also make it very clear that if she feels the least uncomfortable, she need not talk to you. She’s been very helpful, taking your sister under her wing. I don’t want to do anything to upset their growing friendship. Did you know it was Barbara and Jamie who accompanied her to Hattie
Wilks’ boarding house this Friday? Maybe I should ask Laura if she has heard anything about any teachers still being upset about the reduction in teachers’ salaries. Then I could steer the conversation to other subjects, like what was bothering her so much about her first teaching experience this fall or male classmates who were
not
her friends.”

BOOK: Bloody Lessons
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