Mary was nowhere to be seen.
Appreciate .
Her face fell. She'd kicked James out of her bed for nothing.
Nothing to fear after all.
Chapter Nine
“ A RE THERE ALLIGATORS THERE , J AMIE ?” A layer of grime framed Bobby's wide blue eyes.
“Yes. And they're a hundred feet long and eat little Irish boys for breakfast.” Packing for his trip was proving both easier and harder than he'd expected. Easy – he had only one small suitcase. Hard – the difficulty in leaving behind his brothers, sisters, Ma and Da.
And Lilith.
“Another one came!” Mikey tore into the room, a year younger than Bobby and as innocent and book smart as Bobby was corrupted by the streets. He waved an envelope eagerly before James and Bobby.
The first letter had come from her three weeks ago, a fine linen paper that James recognized instantly.
He'd ignored it.
Persistent, isn't she? This one he took from Mikey's outstretched hand, snatching it before Bobby could get his grimy hands on it and run into the streets to read it aloud.
“Get, both of you. Give me a few minutes alone.” Soon he'd have as much solitude as he wanted, traveling alone and embarking on an ambitious adventure of his own making.
But he wouldn't find solace.
Not if he kept ignoring her letters.
On his bookshelf sat a small, red book bound with cheap cloth. His journal. He'd tucked her previous letter there and now pulled it out.
The envelope required considerable effort to open; at work he routinely opened such fine paper, but here at home it seemed out of place.
Dear James,
Once again I find myself writing to you in apology for my actions. I've wavered for weeks, wondering whether to send this. My friend Esther urged me, telling me that regret is worse than embarrassment.
I suspect any woman who caries a Mexican rat in her purse about town is not to be trusted with advice in such matters, so your response will tell me whether she is correct.
May we find a way to meet soon? The lecture this Thursday at the Unitarian church in Cambridge is, ironically enough, on the role of hysteria in women. It seems an appropriate venue.
Sincerely,
Lilith
That lecture had passed two weeks ago, and James knew all too well that she had attended, for he had nearly attended as well. That night was a haze, walking into the room and seeing her there, then ducking back so as not to be spotted. Maria had cornered him, asking for some time, and he'd demurred, lying about a work matter. Using Maria to get to her father's money had seemed expedient at the time, a shortcut to riches he could never achieve without help.
Now he realized the true price, and it was higher than he wished. While Maria had never uttered the word “love,” and James shuddered to imagine it, he nonetheless felt something for her, even if it were just scraps of gratitude for access to her father's investment.
And a healthy appreciation for skills few women possessed in carnal matters.
Whatever Maria may have felt for him seemed distant, too incomprehensible to consider. Her cold exterior and calculating eyes made him feel like a pawn in a game. She moved the pieces where she wished and analyzed positions, strategies, strengths and weakness, all with a goal of an end game that gave her pleasure.
But her feelings? For him? If she had them, she'd never hinted at it.
With a slight tremor in his hands, James opened the new letter from Lilith.
Dear James,
Your journey to Chile is pending, and I will throw all proper behavior by the wayside and simply ask you to visit me at my friend Esther Nourse's home on Salem Road in Cambridge tonight after 9 p.m. Use the servant's entrance. I leave my boldness at your mercy and urge you to meet with me, for your pending journey will remove all chance.
Yours,
Lilith
A bold parting gift? How was he supposed to take this? The billionaire's daughter inviting him to his friend's house two days before he boarded a train, then a steamer, for a far-off land? What good would come of
Appreciate .
Her face fell. She'd kicked James out of her bed for nothing.
Nothing to fear after all.
Chapter Nine
“ A RE THERE ALLIGATORS THERE , J AMIE ?” A layer of grime framed Bobby's wide blue eyes.
“Yes. And they're a hundred feet long and eat little Irish boys for breakfast.” Packing for his trip was proving both easier and harder than he'd expected. Easy – he had only one small suitcase. Hard – the difficulty in leaving behind his brothers, sisters, Ma and Da.
And Lilith.
“Another one came!” Mikey tore into the room, a year younger than Bobby and as innocent and book smart as Bobby was corrupted by the streets. He waved an envelope eagerly before James and Bobby.
The first letter had come from her three weeks ago, a fine linen paper that James recognized instantly.
He'd ignored it.
Persistent, isn't she? This one he took from Mikey's outstretched hand, snatching it before Bobby could get his grimy hands on it and run into the streets to read it aloud.
“Get, both of you. Give me a few minutes alone.” Soon he'd have as much solitude as he wanted, traveling alone and embarking on an ambitious adventure of his own making.
But he wouldn't find solace.
Not if he kept ignoring her letters.
On his bookshelf sat a small, red book bound with cheap cloth. His journal. He'd tucked her previous letter there and now pulled it out.
The envelope required considerable effort to open; at work he routinely opened such fine paper, but here at home it seemed out of place.
Dear James,
Once again I find myself writing to you in apology for my actions. I've wavered for weeks, wondering whether to send this. My friend Esther urged me, telling me that regret is worse than embarrassment.
I suspect any woman who caries a Mexican rat in her purse about town is not to be trusted with advice in such matters, so your response will tell me whether she is correct.
May we find a way to meet soon? The lecture this Thursday at the Unitarian church in Cambridge is, ironically enough, on the role of hysteria in women. It seems an appropriate venue.
Sincerely,
Lilith
That lecture had passed two weeks ago, and James knew all too well that she had attended, for he had nearly attended as well. That night was a haze, walking into the room and seeing her there, then ducking back so as not to be spotted. Maria had cornered him, asking for some time, and he'd demurred, lying about a work matter. Using Maria to get to her father's money had seemed expedient at the time, a shortcut to riches he could never achieve without help.
Now he realized the true price, and it was higher than he wished. While Maria had never uttered the word “love,” and James shuddered to imagine it, he nonetheless felt something for her, even if it were just scraps of gratitude for access to her father's investment.
And a healthy appreciation for skills few women possessed in carnal matters.
Whatever Maria may have felt for him seemed distant, too incomprehensible to consider. Her cold exterior and calculating eyes made him feel like a pawn in a game. She moved the pieces where she wished and analyzed positions, strategies, strengths and weakness, all with a goal of an end game that gave her pleasure.
But her feelings? For him? If she had them, she'd never hinted at it.
With a slight tremor in his hands, James opened the new letter from Lilith.
Dear James,
Your journey to Chile is pending, and I will throw all proper behavior by the wayside and simply ask you to visit me at my friend Esther Nourse's home on Salem Road in Cambridge tonight after 9 p.m. Use the servant's entrance. I leave my boldness at your mercy and urge you to meet with me, for your pending journey will remove all chance.
Yours,
Lilith
A bold parting gift? How was he supposed to take this? The billionaire's daughter inviting him to his friend's house two days before he boarded a train, then a steamer, for a far-off land? What good would come of
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