The Maid's Quarters (5 page)

“I have a list here that I thought we should begin with,”
Mr. Donahue said and pointed. “Here are beds and dressers and cupboards. Pick a
set for your mother and for your brother, and one for you as well.”

“My furniture was not scratched. There is no need to replace
it, Mr. Donahue.”

“Please allow me to make amends this way. I want you to have
it, and I have the funds to purchase it and you may not. Please.”

He looked so sincere, she thought, and so very handsome. And
this was unusual, having a man beg her to take something as a gift, other than
the one occasion when Senator Shelby had done so.

“I am not destitute, I assure you,” she said. But she smiled
when she said it, and Mr. Donahue fumbled and jumbled an apology. “I’m sure you
didn’t mean it as such. While Senator Shelby was campaigning in Houston, the
influenza hit his ranch. Mrs. Shelby and I did much of the work ourselves for
the sick and dying, and some of the work of others, too, as much of the staff
was struck down. Their daughter Melinda nearly didn’t make it but she did,
thank the Lord, and the Shelbys rewarded me with an indefinite salary and a
lump sum amount so that I’d be able to care for Jimmy and that my ma would be able
to quit at the dressmaker’s. I just arrived off the train from Washington and
found out that they had been put out and were living at the church.”

“What a homecoming that was.”

“Wasn’t what I was hoping to find, but it appears things may
work out for the best in the end,” she said and looked up at him.

“Please call me Albert,” he said, and grinned, as if he were
a small child who’d just been handed a treat.

“You must call me Alice, as I am accustomed to hearing. It
will be odd to call you by your Christian name as you live in a fancy home with
servants who may have been me.”

“My grandfather raised my brother and me and we were
comfortable, as his leather business was, and is, successful. I would never
have bought a home as large as I did, if not for the type of business I am in,
the buying and selling of properties, and building, too. The men I do business
with expect me to live in the neighborhood that I do, in the type of house that
I do. If it insures my success, I can live where I’m at as opposed to something
smaller, although I will admit I’ve grown accustomed to its grandeur and
spaciousness. My grandfather and brother tease me terribly about it.”

“Tell me more about your business,” Alice said, just after
she’d chosen a sturdy wooden table and four chairs for the kitchen. Albert told
her about the visit he’d had to the bank that very morning.

“I would have been terrified having to speak to all those
important men,” she said.

Albert shrugged. “It was nothing really. My plans and
numbers were solid, and it did not bother me at all to explain them. Nothing
like how nervous I was meeting you.”

Alice’s lashes fluttered and her cheeks went pink. “No need
to be nervous on my account.”

“Yes, there is, I believe. Will you join me for luncheon at
the Windsor House, Alice?” he asked, when they’d completed all the purchases
and he’d signed a statement to be sent to Mr. Vickers. “I thought we may settle
on an amount of money to replace your clothes and linens that were destroyed as
I’d have no idea what or where to purchase them.”

“I’ve been very fortunate to recently replace my wardrobe,
and my mother will want to make her own things once she is done at the dress
shop very soon. Perhaps it would be better if you could make a contribution to
the Saint Peter and Paul Church who took my ma and brother in.”

“That is an excellent idea, Alice,” he said, and escorted
her to his carriage. “I will do just that.”

They pulled up in front of the Windsor House and Alice took
a deep breath. She’d been here with Mrs. Shelby years ago on many occasions
when her employer met other women for luncheon. Not that she’d eaten with her,
but she’d accompanied Mrs. Shelby, who’d given her more than adequate money to
have a meal at one of the city’s less decorous establishments.

“Oh, dear,” Alice said aloud, and stared at the front of the
building where women fashionably dressed and men in top hats, carrying canes,
were coming and going at the entrance.

“Is there something wrong?”

Alice shook her head. “No. It’s just that I came here often
as servant to Mrs. Shelby and ate at a lovely restaurant down the street while
she dined here.”

“You are every bit as worthy as anyone else to dine here,
Alice, maybe more so,” he said and looked at her solemnly before turning to
Miss Denby. “Would you like to join us, Miss Denby?”

“No thank you, sir. It is my half day so I’ll be leaving once
we’re done and having a meal with my family.”

“Perhaps you would like to go now, Miss Denby?” Alice asked.
“If it is alright with you, Mr. Donahue.”

“Certainly, I’ll ride atop with the driver on our way back.
But how will you get home from here, Miss Denby?”

“One only streetcar is all, sir.”

Albert reached in his pocket, pulled out some coins, and
handed them to Miss Denby. “Enjoy your day with your family. Please do be
careful.”

Alice waited until he stepped out of the carriage and turned
back to her to help her down to the walkway. She thought about how Mrs. Shelby
made an entrance, regardless of her circumstances. Alice held her head high,
straightened her back, and tucked a stray strand of hair back into the loose
bun she wore before a doorman opened the door to the restaurant. Once seated in
the dining room, Alice shook out her napkin and glanced at the menu. No one had
raised up an alarm that a maid was eating with them, she thought to herself
with a chuckle. The haughty maître’ d’ had been solicitous of her, and
she’d met any looks from other diners in a straightforward way as they made
their way through the dining room to their tables, instead of looking away as
she would have normally done.

Albert was known by some of the patrons at the Windsor House
and a few stopped by their table. She was introduced to a Mr. and Mrs.
Donnecker, and a Mr. Evenlew, and smiled and was even able to respond to Mrs.
Donnecker when she’d asked where Alice had gotten her cloak, as the color was
beautiful on her, and the green buttons and gold roping were a perfect match.
She’d been able to say it was made for her in Washington, eliciting raised
eyebrows and other compliments from the woman.

“So you have charmed Mrs. Donnecker,” Albert said with a
laugh. “You are quite able to be comfortable wherever you find yourself, aren’t
you, Alice?”

“Thankfully she didn’t remember me as Mrs. Shelby’s maid, as
I’d seen her a few times at Landonmore when she was entertained there.”

Alice looked around the room after they’d eaten their meals,
had a dessert and coffee, and pleasantly discussed many topics. What a treat
the day had been! It was as easy to talk to Albert Donahue as it was to have
someone serve her meal and wash the dishes, too. “I believe they will want to
be setting the tables for dinner soon. I didn’t realize how long we have sat.”

“I’m sorry,” Albert said, and laid down his napkin. “Perhaps
you have an appointment I am keeping you from.”

Alice shook her head. “Please do not apologize. I have had
the most wonderful day I believe I have ever had. I cannot begin to tell you
what a joy it has been.” Alice looked away then and put her hand in her lap.
“How forward of me. I’m so sorry.”

“No. You have not been forward. But your mother is most
likely wondering where I’ve gone with you. I should be getting you home.”

Alice leaned back on the soft pillows in the coach on the
ride home and thought through every moment of the day she’d just spent, hoping
to savor it and save the memories. How kind and caring Albert Donahue is, she
thought to herself, and possessing a bright mind, and a forceful personality,
as she recalled him speaking to Mr. Evenlew and Mr. Donnecker. He was clearly
in charge of the conversation and guided it accordingly. How powerful and
convincing was he? Perhaps very, she thought, as she recalled his business
interests he’d told her about.

The carriage rolled to a stop on Cherry Street, and he
jumped down from his seat with the driver to help her out. He walked her to her
door and turned to face her.

“Would you dine with me on Saturday at my home? I am
entertaining some business acquaintances and would like to have you join me as
my special guest. You would be welcome to bring your mother if you would like.
Or the wife of my business associate, Mrs. Gloria Gaines, would be happy to
serve as your chaperone. They are newly married and close to us in age.”

“It is very nice of you to ask me. I imagine my mother would
be terribly uncomfortable, although I will ask her,” Alice said, and looked
away. “Perhaps it would be unwise to be seen with me if this is an important
dinner you are hosting.”

Albert picked up her hands in his. “That is exactly why I’m
asking you, because this is an important dinner with people who are critical to
success on a project I’m involved with Stephen on, Mr. Gaines, that is. I would
like you to attend. Please say yes.”

“I have nothing appropriate to wear to a formal dinner
party,” Alice said, fighting the excitement she felt to be a guest, a special
guest, in his home.

Albert raised his brows. “With a seamstress for a mother, I
doubt that would be too much to overcome.”

Alice laughed, and then looked up at him, suddenly shy, as
if this acquiescence had more weight than she was accustomed to giving. “Yes,
then. I will come,” she said softly.

Albert’s nostrils flared and his eyes were triumphant.
“Good. That is good. I look forward to seeing you, and will send my carriage
for you on Saturday at six.”

Chapter Four

“Me?” her ma said. “Go to a fancy
dinner?”

“I’ve been invited and I want to go, and Albert, Mr. Donahue,
says I should have a chaperone. There is a young woman he knows who would serve,
but he said you are welcome.”

“What a gentleman,” Mrs. McKinnell said quietly. “A real
gent.”

“I will go in your place, Maeve,” Mrs. Spretz said with a
laugh, “if I can get the print ink out from under my nails!”

“He doesn’t seem to care about that sort of thing. He introduced
me to some fancy folk at the Windsor House without blinking an eye,” Alice
said.

“Of course he did,” Mrs. McKinnell affirmed. “With your
beautiful hair and face, what man wouldn’t be halfway in love after meeting
you? My Bobby will be disappointed, though. He’s had his ten-year-old heart set
on marrying you ever since he first saw you.”

“And as sweet a disposition as any young woman could have,”
Mrs. Spretz added.

“Clever, too,” her ma put in. “My girl knows her ciphering
and can read better than Father Michael.”

“Well, I don’t know about all of that,” Alice said. “But
what shall I wear? Nothing I have is suitable for such a fancy evening.”

Maeve held her hands to her face. “There’s a dress at work
that someone ordered months ago and has never been back for. I’ve told Edith,
the other seamstress, that it would be a perfect dress for my Alice. Dark blue
velvet with cream satin trim. The only problem is it’s seven dollars without
the fitting. Mighty steep, but the fabric is so fine.”

“I have the money, ma,” Alice said. “Maybe I will go with
you to the shop in the morning.”

* * *

The following morning Alice found
herself on an elevated platform in front of six large mirrors, with her ma,
Edith, and even the shop owner, Mrs. LaTrelle, pulling the fabric this way and
that, and then pinning it in place. Suddenly she was seeing the dress of her
dreams. The women stood back and admired their work.

“’Twill be perfect,” Edith said. “Just you wait.”

“It looks better on your Alice than it did on the woman who
ordered it,” Mrs. LaTrelle said, and ran her fingers through Alice’s hair.
“We’ll have to have someone style your hair, girl. A maid’s bun won’t do for
this dress. And you’ll need shoes, too.”

Maeve pulled down a box from a shelf and handed Alice a
cream-colored satin slipper with a covered heel and a shiny buckle. “Here. Try
these on. They will be perfect.”

* * *

Alice stood in front of the new
mirror in her room on Saturday night. A young girl, a dresser in a well-to-do
household, had just left after styling Alice’s hair into an elaborate knot at the
crown of her head and curling the rest with a hot iron. Edith had come by with
kohl for her eye lashes, sent by Mrs. LaTrelle, and lip rouge, too. She turned
around and looked over her shoulder to see how the back of the dress looked as
it draped over the high bustle. The fabric moved like silk and caught light and
shadows, appearing to be multiple shades of blue. The neckline was scooped with
a cream satin collar, edged in elaborate hand-tatted lace. The sleeves were
long, ending in matching satin cuffs with clear glass buttons. Her mother and
Mrs. McKinnell had helped her dress, and had
oohed
and
aahed
appropriately as she donned each undergarment and as her hair began to take
shape in an elegant style.

Alice could see her mother’s face over her shoulder as she
turned to the mirror. “Don’t cry, Ma. You’ve made such a beautiful thing, this
dress. You should be proud.”

Maeve shook her head and dabbed her eyes. “Aye, I made a
lovely garment, but it is nothing compared to seeing you, my daughter, as
beautiful as any woman could ever be.”

“True, Maeve,” Mrs. McKinnell whispered over Alice’s other shoulder.
“You’re a vision, Alice, and that rich gent is going to be thunderstruck. He is
going to ask you to marry him before the night is out. He’s smitten that one, I
could see it the day he stopped those villains.”

Alice looked up sharply. “No, that is not true. He is just a
pleasant man, a kind one, in fact, but there is nothing special about me, and
he will need a wife who can help him in his business.”

Mrs. McKinnell laughed. “The last time a man looked at me
like your Mr. Donahue looks at you, I was still Bet Brindle, with no wrinkles
on my face, a tiny waist, and a bosom to be envied. No, girl. That man was shot
with Cupid’s arrow the first time he saw you, you mark my words.”

Alice shook her head. “No. I’m in service, and he is an important
businessman and rich as well.”

“As if he cares one hoot about that,” Mrs. McKinnell said,
and went to the window overlooking the front street. “His carriage is here.
I’ll answer the door,” she said, and hurried to the steps.

Alice picked up the small purse Mrs. LaTrelle had sent and
fiddled with the string ties.

“What is it?” Maeve asked, as she stepped close and clasped
Alice’s hands. “What?”

Alice shook her head and looked away.

“Tell me, Alice.”

What could she possibly say to her ma? There was shame
enough in knowing she’d done it, let alone imagining about what her ma would
think of her. She wasn’t fit for marriage other than to Phillip Ramsey, who lay
with her and married Mary not three weeks later. She had long decided that the
world of men brought pain, especially to someone as tarnished as she. She’d
applied for a maid’s job at Landonmore the day after Mary’s wedding. When she
took all her meals in her room and never smiled or spoke to the men working in
that house they had left her be eventually.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with Phillip Ramsey, does
it?” her ma asked, shaking Alice out of her thoughts with a jolt.

“Phillip Ramsey?” Alice repeated. Her mother knew?

“Yes,” Maeve said. “Or was there someone special in Texas?”

Alice shook her head. “No. There was no one special in
Texas.”

Maeve tilted Alice’s chin up. “There’s none of us, not one,
that hasn’t done something they’ve not been proud of. But that doesn’t make a
life, now does it? You’ve worked hard and learned and been everything I could
have ever wished for in a daughter. Go enjoy yourself, Alice. God hands us
burdens and tests, but he also offers us joy. Would be a sin to refuse some
happiness for ourselves, wouldn’t it?”

Mrs. McKinnell called up the steps. “They’re waiting for you,
Alice.”

Maeve smiled. “Go now, girl. Enjoy yourself. You’re every
bit as worthy to be served as you are to serve. And Mrs. Spretz and Mrs.
McKinnell and I are enjoying this too much for you to disappoint us.”

Alice’s lip trembled. “I will enjoy myself this evening and
pretend I am a princess. Will that do?”

“Yes,” Maeve replied. “Now come. We don’t want to keep Mr.
Donahue waiting, do we?”

* * *

Albert Donahue had waited all day to
see Alice Porterman, and he found he was not a patient man when it came to this
woman. He’d gone over the seating arrangement with Higgins and reviewed the
menu and the wine service with Mrs. Erskine and the cook. He’d attempted to
work on a proposal for a land purchase he was considering and made so many
mathematical errors that Mr. Vickers stared at him oddly and asked if he felt
well. And that was the problem. He didn’t feel well. Albert was terrified and
exhilarated in the same moment, dreaming of Alice Porterman and preparing
himself to be disappointed at her response.

Often when he was a guest of a client or one of the bank’s gentlemen,
he was seated beside a young woman, sometimes the daughter or sister of his
host. They would converse, and he was able to comfortably, putting the woman at
ease by focusing on her as she spoke and replying boisterously or quietly as
the woman’s personality called for. But he remembered none of them by the
following morning, or their sincere replies and sometimes blatant invitations.
Albert knew he was considered eligible in Boston society, denying that family
pedigree was the sole ingredient to success, and confirming what was true in
every society—money mattered. And while a man or woman with little education,
manners, or style would hardly be welcomed into these homes and boardrooms even
with all the money in the world, a man from a working-class background, albeit
a successful one, could succeed when his bank account was as large as Albert’s.

But money did not matter in the case of Alice Porterman. In
fact, he was fairly certain it was a mark against him. If he was to have any
chance with her, it would be on his merits and those alone. After trying to
concentrate on a book, he gave up, and instead prepared himself for the evening
and proceeded to pace. How would he go about convincing Alice on such short
acquaintance that they were meant for each other, and why was he so completely
certain that they were?

For himself, he knew why she was the woman for him. Any
person strong enough to face an influenza outbreak and do the work of a nurse,
and of a cook, and of a farm hand, even feeding chickens, she told him as she
described the state of her employer’s ranch, had fortitude and honor. She’d
been her mother’s champion for years and supported her and their family,
putting aside what most young girls are seeking, and instead doing the right
thing and persevering even when it was unpleasant, as it most certainly was
when she visited Nyturn’s office and later his home. What a prize Alice was!
How brave and fearless and selfless she was!

At six thirty Gloria and Stephen arrived, and Albert was
happy to be diverted from his current thoughts, as he anticipated every
footstep from Higgins as Alice’s arrival. His staff must think he’d lost his
mind, hanging about in the foyer staring up at the landscapes and portraits
that hung there to pass the time.

“Gloria,” he said, as he kissed her cheek. “You’re looking
lovely this evening.”

“Thank you,” she replied, as Albert shook her husband’s
hand.

“Good to see you, Albert,” Stephen said. “Perhaps we can
close this deal over dinner. What do you think?”

“Perhaps,” he countered, looking up over Stephen’s shoulder
as Higgins went to the door. “Excuse me.”

Albert walked toward the door as Higgins opened it, and
there she stood, looking tentative and incredibly beautiful. “Miss Porterman.
Alice. Welcome. Please come in.”

“Thank you,” she said, after taking a breath and stepping
into his foyer and allowing Higgins to take her cloak.

She is mine
, he
thought, with all the boldness of man speaking in his thoughts only. Her hair
framed her face in soft curls, drawing his eyes to her lips, full and slightly
parted. She was wearing a blue gown, cut low enough that he could see cleavage
and fitted to her figure in such a way as to make him ache to touch her. He could
smell lilacs and watched as her bosom rose and fell with each breath.

He looked in her eyes, and the foyer, his other guests, his
staff, everything faded out of his vision. “You are so beautiful,” he said.

Alice smiled shyly, blushed, and glanced away.

“Oh, yes. These are my friends Mr. and Mrs. Gaines. Miss
Porterman,” he said, turning to them.

“Gloria and Stephen, Miss Porterman, as you are a friend of
Albert’s,” Stephen said.

Gloria eyed Albert with raised brows and turned to Alice
with a smile and hooked her arm through hers. “We shall go restore our hair and
pat our cheeks, won’t we, Alice? We will meet you gentlemen in the large
drawing room?”

Albert nodded, his eyes never leaving Alice’s face. “The
first guest room is available for the ladies. Mrs. Erskine can show you up.”

Gloria shook her head and turned them both in a whirl of
crinkling fabrics. “No need to bother her. I know the way.”

* * *

Mrs. Gaines chattered about
inconsequential things, asking questions that she could answer herself, and
giving time for Alice, purposefully, Alice thought, to stop shaking. Alice
stood near a massive carved wood cupboard once they were in the bedroom while
Mrs. Gaines pinched her cheeks, applied lip rouge to already rosy lips, and
looked at Alice in the reflection of the dressing table mirror.

“So, Alice, how did you meet Albert?” Mrs. Gaines asked.

“He is our landlord, Mrs. Gaines,” Alice replied.

“I am not Mrs. Gaines. I am Gloria,” she said with a smile,
and continued to pull strands of hair around her face, curling them around her
finger as she went.

Alice said nothing. She stared instead at the fine
furniture, all dark wood and shining with layers of polish. The bed was made up
with a brightly printed flowered coverlet over white sheets with stacks of
pillows standing just so against a carved headboard. Alice looked up to see
Mrs. Gaines standing directly in front of her.

“Were you in service, Alice?”

“Yes, ma’am. I was a housemaid and then a personal maid to a
senator’s wife.”

“But you are not working tonight, are you?”

Alice shook her head. “Well . . . no. I am a guest of Mr.
Donahue’s.”

“And I’m terrified for you that you will get up and try and
serve the soup,” Mrs. Gaines said, and then covered her mouth with her hand to
keep from laughing.

Alice’s face colored. But the picture in her head that Mrs.
Gaines conjured up with her description was silly enough to make her giggle,
and then Mrs. Gaines laughed even more.

The woman took Alice’s hands in hers. “You must relax. You
must stop calling me Mrs. Gaines. I am Gloria. You are a guest and must behave
so. Albert’s dinners are wonderful affairs, with much laughter and delicious
food, and good company. Won’t you enjoy yourself?”

“This is all very strange for me. I am afraid of
embarrassing myself or Albert . . . Mr. Donahue, I mean. I just don’t belong
here. I do not know why he asked me here.” Alice shook her head. “It is almost
cruel.”