Love on a Dime (5 page)

Like it or not, he ’d keep his feelings to himself—at least for now.

FIVE

T
he next morning Lilly strolled across the back lawn toward the sea. Chilly from the stiff breeze, she pulled her shawl around her arms.

Lord, I need You to settle my nerves and bring me through this nightmare. Please don’t let me fall in love with Jack all over again. He’ll only bring me misery
. She couldn’t deny how his presence fluttered her heart and sent her mind reeling. But the Lord would strengthen her to battle her powerful emotions.

The Lord had never failed her. He ’d comforted her through the agonizing days after Jack left and eventually guided her into writing. Yet now He seemed so distant, so invisible.
I trust You, Lord. It’s not easy at the moment, but I do believe You’ll watch over me
. She certainly didn’t trust herself. The words of her favorite verse came to mind.
Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths
. Her spirit calmed.

When Lilly came to the rough boulders that jutted into the surf, she noticed her father standing on the edge, fishing rod in hand. A shabby old vest strained against his round form; baggy pants and a tattered shirt completed the outfit her mother would have discarded had she known it existed. Lilly hiked up her ecru skirt and picked her way across the craggy surface.

As she approached the water, the wind freshened, sweeping her hair out from its topknot and carefully pinned sides. She held on to her skirt before it billowed like a bell.

Papa glanced sideways. “Lilly! Have you come to fish?”

“No, I’m out for some exercise and a bit of solitude.”

Papa grunted his approval. “The rest of the family thrives on constant activity, but I can see you still treasure your rare moments of peace and quiet. As do I. This bracing sea air is certainly good for my lungs.” He demonstrated by taking deep breaths without his usual wheeze.

“It’s a blessing your health is improving.”

He sidestepped and made room for her on the giant rock. “I’m glad you joined me, Lilly. I’ve been meaning to speak to you but haven’t had a chance. Or maybe I just hate being the bearer of bad news.”

When she noticed Papa’s somber expression, Lilly’s muscles tightened. “Is something the matter?”

Papa sighed. His jowls sagged and he looked older than his sixty years. “I’m afraid I’ve had a financial setback. I’ll have to stop contributing to the Christian Settlement House, at least for the time being. Perhaps by the first of the year things will improve, though commerce is always uncertain.” He glanced at her sideways, empathy in his eyes.

Lilly swallowed hard. “Oh no, Papa. That’s very bad news, indeed.”

A sheepish look flickered across his face. “You’re upset, aren’t you? I can’t blame you one bit. The Settlement House counts on me for much of its support, so this was quite a blow to their budget. I know how important their mission is to you and your dear friend Miranda. This morning I telephoned Miss Diller to explain the situation as best I could. The poor woman was almost too distraught to speak.”

“I’m sure Miranda will be as well.” Friends since childhood, they volunteered together during much of the year. “Does she have other donors in mind?” Lilly refused to think of the consequences of Papa’s devastating news. “You couldn’t be the only one. Surely there are many other contributors.”

Papa’s mouth pulled down in a frown. “According to Miss Diller, I’m their primary sponsor. They operate on a shoestring budget with the help of volunteers like you and Miranda. Even with my support they barely make ends meet. I didn’t realize my help was so vital.” He shook his head. “That makes it all the worse.”

“I wish I could contribute more,” Lilly murmured. The slap of the wind on her face seemed sharper and wetter than before.

“My dear, you give so much of yourself already—in addition to your donations from your trust fund.”

Her monthly stipend was too small to provide much assistance, but she gave it willingly along with significant proceeds from her dime novels. She ’d hoped to write less for a while until Harlan settled her future and the disturbing Fannie Cole comments in
Talk of the Town
died down. But obviously this news changed her plans.

Papa looked her straight in the eye. “I’m afraid the place will shut its doors within a month unless they receive a generous contribution.”

Lilly sighed. “No, Papa. Not close! What will the poor women do?” She dropped down onto the boulder and winced as the jagged edge tore her white silk stocking.

Papa lowered himself, too, groaning as he awkwardly positioned himself beside her. “I’m so sorry, Lilly. Perhaps we could ask someone to assist with a financial gift. Harlan might oblige.”

“Harlan?” Her heart soared for only a second before it plunged downward. “If I ask him, I shall be in his debt. You know how I detest begging for favors.”

Papa nodded. “Yes, I know. But if he ’s to be your husband, he won’t mind. Goodness knows he has the money to spare. And the kindness, too, I trust.”

There was no point in reminding him that Harlan hadn’t proposed as yet. Despite her reservations about marriage, Lilly mustered a modicum of enthusiasm. “I don’t think he favors the Settlement House, but of course I’ll speak to him—now, if I can find him.”

“Good luck, my dear.” Papa brightened and then turned back to his fishing.

Lilly strode toward the cottage. No question about it, she needed to pound out more dime novels, though she had hoped for a short break. If she mustered the nerve, she’d ask for more money.

Before she reached the veranda she saw Harlan striding across the grass. She quickened her pace and greeted him with her warmest smile.

“Good morning. You’re just the man I hoped to see. May I have a word with you?”

Harlan helped her up the veranda steps. “Of course.”

Strolling through the French doors and into the back hallway of Summerhill, Harlan looked more amiable than usual. Her courage bolstered, Lilly plunged ahead. “I hope you’ll do me a very important favor, Harlan. Papa is one of the major supporters of the Christian Settlement House, but unfortunately, circumstances require him to cancel his contributions in the foreseeable future. This is catastrophic for them. They’ll be forced to close if another donor isn’t located.”

She stopped, caught her breath, and glanced into Harlan’s glacial eyes. “I was hoping, perhaps, you’d see fit to take over for Papa. It’s such a worthy cause. And they’d be so grateful for your generosity.” She was pleading and she loathed herself for it. But what other option did she have?

Harlan’s lips thinned. “Ah, the Christian Settlement House—my cousin Miranda’s pet project. Ordinarily I’d say no. I already support all the charities I care to.” He gave her arm a condescending pat. “But since you’re so fond of the place, for some reason, I’ll give it serious consideration.” A weak smile flit across his face, bypassing his eyes. “Now if you’re not too busy, maybe we can golf today.”

Between gritted teeth, Lilly answered, “I’d be delighted.” Any sacrifice for the Settlement House seemed small and worth the effort. Harlan knew she disliked golf, but he played well and enjoyed it immensely. “As soon as I change my clothes, I’ll be ready to go.”

Several hours later, after nine holes in the brisk wind of an approaching storm, Harlan’s mood seemed to plummet. On the manicured course of the Newport Country Club, both Jack and George beat him soundly in front of his friends and Lilly, a most unfortunate occurrence. Jack’s jaunty step and ear-to-ear grin aggravated Harlan’s sour disposition. On the drive back to Summerhill, Lilly avoided the subject of his donation, but Harlan wouldn’t be deterred.

“I’ve come to a decision, Lilly. I’m quite impressed with your loyalty and dedication to New York’s poorest. Heaven knows they need all the help they can get.” He turned toward her, his face crushed with false regret. “Yet in all good conscience, I cannot advocate a cause which encourages dependence upon the good will of others when self-sufficiency is required. So I must regretfully decline.”

Lilly fought to retain her composure. “They’re worthy young women, not parasites.”

Harlan held up his hand to stop any further discussion. “Nevertheless, my funds are allocated elsewhere.”

“I’m”—she paused, searching for an appropriate word— “disappointed.” Lilly turned away before a flood of inappropriate words drowned her good manners. She ’d try again later when his mood improved.

In the meantime she ’d ask Jack, though she doubted with his possible purchase of Jones and Jarman he’d be able to offer any assistance. Yet perhaps he could help in some small way. She ’d wait for the right opportunity to broach the subject.

That night Lilly and Harlan conveniently followed Jack into the musicale held at Belcourt Castle. The Louis XIII–style mansion was set atop a first floor stable, which housed Mr. Belmont’s horses and collection of fine carriages. An unusual design to say the least, but quite grand, Lilly mused while the violinists tuned their strings.

“What’s wrong, Lilly? Did Harlan do something to upset you?” Jack asked, leaning toward her as the three of them took their seats on delicately carved chairs. “You look distraught.”

“That’s quite enough, Grail,” Harlan said. But then a woman on his far side engaged him in conversation.

From behind her open fan Lilly explained the plight of the Settlement House and ignored his subsequent gibe about Harlan. “So you see,” she concluded, “they desperately need your assistance.”

Harlan, situated on her other side, twisted the end of his mustache and cocked an ear again.

Jack shook his head with obvious regret. “Unfortunately, I plan on using all available funds for my business enterprise. But rest assured, I’ll make a small donation first thing tomorrow morning.” Jack leveled a gaze at Lilly. “And I’ll ask some of my business acquaintances if they’ll help too. I’m familiar with the fine work done there.” His voice softened to velvet. “The Settlement House is fortunate to have you as an advocate.”

“Thank you.” Her blush deepened as she lowered her gaze and ignored Harlan’s penetrating stare.

Jack leaned across Lilly and tapped Harlan on the wrist. “Say, Santerre, why don’t we both contribute to the Settlement House and ease Lilly’s concern?” The twinkle in Jack’s eyes sent a smile to Lilly’s lips which she quickly hid behind her feather fan. “What do you say?” Jack asked and squinted at Harlan. “You’re not speechless, are you?”

Harlan sputtered, “Don’t be absurd.” His mouth twitched in a frown. “I will gladly cover a month’s worth of expenses if you’ll do the same. That should tide them over until they locate a permanent sponsor for their most worthy endeavor.”

“Excellent,” Jack said, through gritted teeth.

“Better yet, why not make it two months, until they find a permanent sponsor?” Harlan looked toward Lilly, obviously looking for her approval.

“Fine,” Jack said.

“Splendid! I’m very relieved. Thank you so much.” Lilly tossed a grateful smile to Jack and then to Harlan. Jack grinned broadly while Harlan seemed to force his small smile. “If both of you search for a benefactor, I’m certain the Settlement House will stay open.”

But until that happened, everything the volunteers and staff had worked so hard to achieve stood in jeopardy. This was only a stopgap measure to temporarily solve a chronic financial problem.

She trusted Jack to contact everyone who might donate to such a worthy cause, but she feared he wouldn’t have the proper connections. His short time in society provided some rich and influential acquaintances, though probably few who would owe him a favor.

Harlan knew the prominent society players in New York and Newport, so he could raise funds with just a letter or personal visit. Perhaps after more thought he ’d reconsider and write a generous check to cover expenses for six months or a year. She hoped they’d both continue their support.

As she fanned herself against the stuffy, humid air, she wondered why Harlan couldn’t bring himself to donate an even more generous sum to such a worthwhile institution so desperately in need of assistance. What good was an abundance of money if you didn’t use it to eliminate the suffering of others? Yet she was grateful he ’d decided to help.

THE NEXT MORNING on her way to the library to find a research book, Lilly was stopped in the hallway by Mr. Ames, the butler.

“You have a telephone call, miss. It’s Miss Reid. Do you wish to speak with her?” His ancient voice quaked as his narrow shoulders hunched, caving his chest inward. A devoted servant since Papa wore knickers and slid down banisters, Mr. Ames refused to retire.

“Yes, indeed.”

He tottered away while Lilly slipped into the study. The telephone rested on Papa’s oak desk. Unaccustomed to using Mr. Bell’s marvelous new invention, she studied it for a moment before raising the receiver to her ear, thinking it looked rather like a fancy candlestick.

She cleared her throat and shouted into the mouthpiece. “Miranda, it’s wonderful to hear your voice. I do miss you so much—and working at the Settlement House as well. Papa told me he’s had to discontinue his support for now. How is Miss Diller reacting?”

Miranda’s voice crackled. “She ’s dreadfully upset. It was an awful shock, but your old friend Mr. Grail and Harlan telephoned earlier to donate funds which will help for a while. That was very thoughtful of Harlan, especially since he doesn’t approve of immigrants.” She paused for a second. “You asked him to contribute, didn’t you?”

Lilly laughed. “Yes, I did and he agreed.” She left out the fact that he said no at first.

“You must be terribly persuasive,” Miranda murmured. “I wonder why Jackson Grail suddenly donated funds. How odd.”

“No, not really. He ’s staying here for a few weeks as George ’s guest. I asked him to contribute too.”

Miranda chuckled. “Good thinking. But having him at Summerhill must be rather unpleasant for you.”

“It’s a bit awkward at times. Very awkward, actually. Anyway, is there something I can do to help the Settlement House?” Lilly asked.