The Pursuit of Lucy Banning,A Novel (Avenue of Dreams) Read online

  Finally the red velvet cake arrived. Lucy’s piece was far bigger than she could manage, even though she’d barely picked at each course as it was served. She was relieved to see Daniel looking at his watch. Predictably, in the next breath he said it was time for them to catch the train for the eleven-mile trip back to Chicago.

  Daniel supported Lucy’s elbow as she climbed the steps at the rear of the train car, then opened the wooden door for her to enter.

  “Sit anywhere you like,” he said.

  Lucy chose a seat in the middle of the car and arranged herself gracefully. She was a striking woman, Daniel thought, as he often did. While Lucy was not beautiful in a classical sense, nevertheless her presence turned heads—even on a train late at night where no one knew she was a Banning and a resident of Prairie Avenue.

  Daniel settled in next to Lucy. Few other passengers boarded, but he knew from experience that as the train neared the city, riders would increase.

  “I do wish they would build a proper train station in Riverside,” Daniel said. “The railroad has been stopping here for twenty years or more.”

  “I suppose it’s part of the city planning and they’ll get to it in time,” Lucy responded.

  “In spite of that, it was a nice evening, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Lucy nodded absently. “I always enjoy seeing your parents. What they’ve done to the house is lovely.”

  “Mother loves having trees all around—and her own pond in the back lawn. If the weather is mild enough in September, I rather suspect she’d like to give us an outdoor party around the time of the wedding.”

  “So it’s to be September, then?”

  Daniel turned his head to look at Lucy, who suddenly seemed small as she leaned against the window.

  “Do you not find September acceptable?” he asked. “That is almost a year away. I could still make an argument for July, if you don’t want to wait until September.” He reached over and squeezed her hand on her lap, but she didn’t respond.

  “What I think,” Lucy said, “is that our mothers have settled the matter between themselves.”

  Daniel chuckled and patted her hand. “September it is, then. Perhaps after church tomorrow we can have a word with the pastor and formally get the wedding on the church calendar.”

  Finally Lucy turned to look at him. “That might be premature.”

  “Why is that?” Daniel had in mind clearing up one problem between them, but it would be cleared up long before September. Tonight, in fact.

  Lucy shrugged. “As you pointed out, September is nearly a year away. There’s plenty of time to start making specific plans after New Year’s.”

  “It can’t hurt to get a date on the calendar.” Daniel studied Lucy, who had once again turned her gaze to the darkness outside. He surrendered to the sway of the train as he wondered what was really on Lucy’s mind and contemplated when he would ask the question weighing on his.

  Back in Chicago, at a proper train station, Daniel hailed a carriage cab that took them home to Prairie Avenue. He used his key to let them into the house, and out of habit they moved to the empty parlor.

  “I guess everyone else has retired for the evening,” Daniel said.

  “It looks that way,” Lucy said. “If you like, I can ring for Charlotte and she can bring us some refreshment.”

  Daniel shook his head. “Not for me, thank you. That meal will carry me far past breakfast.”

  “Yes, I agree. Perhaps we should just turn in as well.”

  “Are you too tired for a bit more conversation?” Daniel asked. He was not going to sleep one more night without knowing the truth.

  She looked at him directly for the first time all evening. “What is it, Daniel?”

  “Perhaps we should sit down.”

  “This sounds serious.” Lucy sat in an armchair. Daniel sat where he could look directly at her.

  “A business acquaintance made a curious remark to me,” he said. “He claims to have seen you on the university grounds more than once in recent weeks. I recall you initially had orphanage business there, but I can’t help wondering what would take you there repeatedly.”

  Lucy hardly knew what to say. She was tired and worried. This was not how she had imagined this conversation might take place. However, she always knew the moment would come. She looked him in the eye and didn’t blink.

  “I’ve enrolled in an art history class.” Lucy opted to stick to the facts. “It meets on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons from one until three.”

  Involuntarily, she was holding her breath, waiting to see what he would do.

  “So you’re not working at the orphanage?” he finally asked.

  “I used to go three afternoons a week. Now I go all day on Friday.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you, Daniel? Can you really understand? Because I would like to take more classes.”

  Daniel stood up and waved one hand dismissively. “It seems you have more time on your hands than I realized. You’re engaging in the idleness of an unmarried woman, and I won’t have it.”

  “Daniel!” Lucy was on her feet now.

  He began to pace with heavy steps. “Perhaps rather than wait until September, we should marry in the spring. I had hoped we could move into a completed home, but in view of these circumstances, we can live somewhere temporarily while we build. Perhaps we should even have a Christmas wedding.”

  “Christmas!”

  “Yes, Christmas. Or New Year’s at the latest. Our mothers would be thrilled and easily forgive us for the short notice.”

  Lucy knew the fiery look she saw in Daniel’s eye. His mind was made up, and the time for subtle persuasions was past.

  “Daniel, I don’t think that’s going to happen,” she said.

  “It will be a challenge, I grant you, but entirely possible. My experience is that anything can be done. It simply costs more to make arrangements on short notice. We can still have the wedding we want.”

  Lucy took a deep breath. “But I don’t want a wedding, Daniel.”

  He spun around and stared at her. “What did you say?” His face reddened rapidly.

  Mindful that her parents were just down the hall, Lucy moved swiftly to close the pocket doors under the parlor’s arched woodwork. She turned back to Daniel, trembling.

  “I don’t want a wedding, Daniel. I’m fond of your parents, and I’m fond of you. But not in that way. Our families have a unique relationship, but that is not sufficient basis for a marriage.”

  “It would seem you’ve given this a great deal of thought.”

  Lucy nodded. “I have.”

  “How dare you humiliate me!”

  “Daniel, please, I’m not trying to hurt you.”

  “If I understand you correctly, you are breaking our engagement. How on earth would that not hurt me?”

  “Please forgive me, Daniel.” Lucy gulped air, hardy able to speak. Whenever she had imagined this moment, she felt relief. But its reality shook her nerves.

  “It’s that foolish class,” Daniel said. “It has filled your head with silly notions. Your parents don’t know about your class, do they?”

  She shook her head.

  “And you don’t want them to know.”

  “They wouldn’t understand.”

  “With good reason!” he bellowed.

  She stepped forward and put a hand on his arm. “Please, Daniel, we can work this out. Let’s try to talk calmly.”

  He threw off her touch. “Surely under the circumstances you don’t expect me to keep this secret.”

  “If you have any affection for me at all, you will,” Lucy said. “I will bear the blame for breaking the engagement.”

  “As well you should—you are the one who broke it, after all.”

  “I promise I will say nothing disparaging about you. I’ve made this choice, and I’m prepared to bear the consequence. But please, just let me finish this term.”

  He put out his hand. “My mother will w
ant her stone back.”

  “I wouldn’t think of keeping it.” Lucy slipped the sapphire off her finger and handed it to him.

  “I’m going to bed now.”

  Daniel shoved open the parlor doors and tromped up the marble steps, while Lucy sank into the settee. She had almost granted herself permission to surrender to tears when her mother came down the hall in her nightdress and robe.

  “What in the Sam Hill is going on in here?” Flora demanded.

  17

  Aren’t we a pair?” Charlotte slowly brushed Lucy’s hair out a morning two weeks later.

  Lucy lifted her eyes to the mirror and her own strained reflection below Charlotte’s sallow skin. She wore a muted coral Liberty tea dress. Somehow the fashionable tight-waisted clothing in bold colors had little appeal for her in recent days. Lucy was grateful for the gentler lines of the chiffon seersucker gown. Wistfully she wondered what it would be like to get dressed in the morning and be ready for the day, rather than constantly planning around the occasions—as simple as a meal—that required elaborate changes of clothing. But this would not be the day for a fashion revolt. The green silk gown she would wear that evening, with its froth of lace at the neckline, was already pressed and waiting on her bed.

  “I suppose Mrs. Fletcher has laid out a heavy breakfast,” Lucy said.

  “That she has. Your mother gave specific instructions that breakfast must be the same menu your parents had on the day they married.”

  “Mother does this every year on their anniversary. Kippers, compotes of every variety, hot rolls, sweet rolls, three kinds of sausages. And I haven’t got any appetite at all.”

  “You have to eat, Miss Lucy.”

  “You’re one to talk. You look thinner every day, ever since . . .” Lucy couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.

  “Since I put my baby out to board,” Charlotte whispered. She rallied and brushed with vigor. “But I’ve seen Henry three times. Mrs. Given has experimented to find what he likes mixed with his milk. My little boy likes only a little sugar mixed in.”

  Lucy blinked twice. “I thought Mr. Emmett was going to provide Nestle infant formula.”

  “Oh, what Mrs. Given makes is so much more economical and Henry seems to like it.”

  Lucy sighed, put one elbow on the vanity, and leaned on her hand. “A mother ought to be able to feed her own baby.”

  In the mirror, Lucy saw that Charlotte turned her back and pretended to plump the cushion on the chaise lounge. After leaving Henry with Mrs. Given—and in the reality that the busyness of the fair’s dedication was over—Charlotte had moved back to her room on the third floor and resumed most of her duties in the kitchen. Lucy, though, continued to make frequent requests for Charlotte’s services, if only to give Charlotte a moment to collapse on the lounge where she had last suckled her son.

  Lucy’s own dilemma seemed inconsequential compared to Charlotte being bereft of her son. Two weeks had passed since she revealed two secrets to Daniel—that she did not want to marry him and that she did want to take college classes. Obviously the broken engagement rumbled through the family. Flora and Samuel were flabbergasted, Oliver was scolding, Leo was silent, and Richard asked the question on all their minds—was Daniel still going to be their friend? So far, Daniel kept the second secret, and Lucy repeatedly insisted to her family that the breakup was all her doing and they should find no fault in Daniel.

  Daniel took the intractable route. Lucy’s decision was not going to change his routines.

  “Did Daniel spend the night again?” Lucy asked Charlotte.

  “Yes, miss. He came in late. He’s in the dining room having his breakfast right now.”

  “I suppose I’ll have to face him. Will you help me put my hair up?”

  Lucy entered the dining room a few minutes later to find Daniel picking at the remains of his meal and reading a Wall Street Journal. She squared her shoulders and took her usual seat next to him.

  “Good morning, Daniel.”

  “Mmm.” He made no effort even to glance up from his paper.

  Charlotte slipped in from the butler’s pantry and silently picked up the sterling coffeepot to fill Lucy’s cup. Daniel gestured that Charlotte should clear his dishes, and she complied.

  Lucy picked up the society page of the Chicago Tribune, scanning to see with relief that so far her broken engagement was not gossip fodder. “Daniel,” Lucy said, “can we talk for a moment?”

  He shrugged. Charlotte put a lone hot roll on Lucy’s plate, which Lucy pulled apart with no intention of eating.

  “Daniel, I wonder if it’s wise for you to spend so much time here,” Lucy said.

  “Why would that be?”

  “Under the circumstances.”

  “What circumstances do you speak of?”

  Lucy swallowed and pressed her lips together. Daniel’s obstinacy only served to confirm her decision.

  He finally turned and looked at her. “Your parents are my parents’ oldest and dearest friends. I was quite attached to them long before you were even born. They have kindly opened their home to me for my convenience.”

  “Yes, but Daniel, it might be easier on everyone if there were some distance just now. For a while.”

  “Perhaps you are thinking only of yourself. I had not thought you capable of that until recently.”

  Lucy sighed. “I’d like to think I have everyone’s best interests at heart. Can’t we discuss this in a civil manner?”

  Daniel picked up his newspaper and folded it to a new section. “Here is a civil reality. Oliver and Leo are my best friends—once again, since before you were born.”

  “Are you really going to make this so difficult?” Lucy said through gritted teeth.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You make me an outcast in my own home.”

  Daniel threw his head back and laughed.

  “Daniel, please.” Heat shot through Lucy’s chest.

  “Don’t be silly, Lucy. Did you not think through your decision before you announced it?”

  “I know I’ve hurt you, and I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head. “I doubt that.”

  “You’ve been my friend too, you know. All my life, you were there.”

  Daniel stood up. “It was my intention to be there for the rest of your life as well. You have chosen to throw that away for a frivolous university class and a motley bunch of orphans. I can’t stop you, but you can’t seriously expect that you would pay no price for your decision.”

  “Of course I’m paying a price, but—”

  “I don’t intend to change a thing, Lucy. Get used to it.”

  Daniel picked up his newspaper, dipped his head politely, and left the room.

  Lucy glanced up to see Charlotte standing nearby, eyes deep in her face.

  Oliver and Leo contrived to get their parents out of the house so final preparations for the surprise party could proceed. Under Penard’s faultless and unforgiving instructions, the household staff laid two long tables with the finest linens, china, and crystal the Bannings owned. Footmen and serving maids were on loan from the Glessners, Pullmans, and Kimballs to ensure every thought was fulfilled before it was fully formed. Knowing that Flora Banning would never intrude in the kitchen, Mrs. Fletcher had been rolling pastries, chopping vegetables, and seasoning meats for days. The dinner menu included seven full courses to serve twenty-four seated guests plus the family. Lucy played the hostess with Richard’s help, and by seven-thirty that evening, guests buzzed around the parlor, broad foyer, and festive dining room waiting for the guests of honor. Expecting her usual eight o’clock dinner, Flora had come through the front door and gasped at the scene—then nearly squealed.

  Charlotte, Bessie, and Elsie, in their crispest black dresses and new white aprons Mrs. Fletcher had wrangled out of Penard’s household budget, moved among the guests with trays of dried prunes wrapped in bacon, tea cakes, and finger sandwiches. Borrowed foo
tmen offered drinks, while Penard double-checked every arrangement of the exquisite meal.

  Leo nudged Lucy from behind. She smiled and offered her cheek for a kiss.

  “Well, it’s not a Pullman dinner for eighty,” Leo said, “but I think we’ve pulled off a successful party.”

  “Mother and Father seem pleased,” Lucy said.

  “Irene and Howard are tickled pink.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Lucy said. “They haven’t really spoken to me all evening. I don’t know what to say to them, either.”

  “It will get better,” Leo said. “They love you.”

  “But can they forgive me?”

  The doorbell rang, and Lucy raised an eyebrow. “Are we missing someone?”

  Leo intercepted Penard on his way to the front door. “I’ll get it. I invited Will.”

  “Will? You invited Will?” Lucy followed Leo to the front door. “To a party for our parents?”

  Leo pulled the door open and extended a handshake. “I’m glad you could come.”

  “I’m sorry to be late.” Will grinned. “I suppose I’ve missed the dramatic moment.”

  “I’m afraid so. But no harm done. Dinner hasn’t been served yet.”

  Flora drifted from the parlor to the foyer. “Leo, you rascal,” she said. “What a wonderful job you did keeping a secret while you carried us around town jabbering on about horseless carriages and all that nonsense.” She paused and ran her eyes down the front of Will’s dark suit. “Is this your friend Mr. Edwards?”

  “You remember him! I’m glad,” Leo said.

  “I look forward to continuing our acquaintance tonight,” Will said.

  “Are you staying to dinner, Mr. Edwards?” Flora asked, confused.

  “Of course he’s staying to dinner, Mother,” Leo answered. “I invited him. They’ve been working him like a slave at that office. Will needs some fun.”