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

  And then he was there. His lanky form threaded down the block toward her—from the direction of his office. Lucy planted her feet and waited for him at the gallery entrance.

  “I’m sorry I’m so late,” Will said after they greeted each other. “I had to take care of some things unexpectedly.”

  “At the office?” she said hopefully. “Is everything all right at the office?” She wanted to reach out and take his hand, but she did not dare.

  “Is everything all right?” he echoed. “That’s a bit difficult to discern at the moment.”

  “Please tell me about it,” Lucy coaxed. “I want to know. Everything.”

  “It’s not very interesting.”

  “Let’s go inside. You can tell me about it while we see the exhibit.”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Lucy, I can’t stay.”

  “Will, what’s wrong? Talk to me!”

  He shook his head again. “I can’t. I have to go right back to the office.”

  “More work?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Will I see you Friday at St. Andrew’s?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s difficult to plan very far in advance just now.”

  “I’ll be there all day enjoying my new office. Please come and find me if you can.”

  He didn’t nod. He didn’t shake his head. He merely said, “I’m sorry about the exhibit, Lucy, but I do have to go.”

  “I understand,” she said. But she didn’t.

  Will walked to the end of the block before he permitted himself a glance back at the gallery. Lucy was not there. She might have gone inside without him, or she might have gone home. He couldn’t know.

  He’d told her the truth: he was going back to the office. Monday had come and gone with no word from the client about whether they would consider the replacement drawings. Tuesday had largely passed as well. Will could think of nothing more he could do other than be at the office from the moment it opened in the morning until the last partner locked the door in the evening, no matter what time that was.

  It was better this way, under the circumstances. He and Lucy had done nothing more than share an afternoon pot of tea—albeit on a regular basis—or play with the orphans together. It wouldn’t do Lucy any good to get further involved with his difficulties.

  On Friday, Lucy heard each tick of the clock, one anxious pause after another. Hours crept by, and no matter how much work she buried herself in, she knew the precise time at every moment of the day. Will rarely arrived at St. Andrew’s before three in the afternoon, and generally by five she was on her way home, so they had only a few minutes to steal together. By four-thirty on this day, though, she gave up hope he would come. Whatever was happening at his firm was consuming and obviously required his best attention.

  At a quarter to five, Lucy began to pack some papers in her satchel. The ranks of eight-year-olds at St. Andrew’s were swelling for some reason, and the teachers were asking for more classroom space for this age group. Lucy had offered to try to sort out the challenge. She could easily ponder the dilemma at home. At five minutes until five, Lucy resigned herself to going home without seeing Will. She took her cloak off the hook, wrapped it around her, pulled up the hood, and stuck her head in Mr. Emmett’s office.

  “I’m going now, Mr. Emmett,” Lucy said. “I’ve taken some papers to sort out the classroom question. I’ll try to propose a solution next Friday when I come.”

  “Thank you, Miss Banning. That will be very helpful.”

  “It’s my pleasure.”

  “Don’t forget to look in on the dining hall on your way out,” he said.

  “Oh?”

  “Mr. Edwards has taken the painting in hand with some of the older boys. They started about an hour ago.”

  The folds of her cloak hid her tremble. “Yes, I’ll be sure to have a look.”

  “Good night, then.”

  Lucy turned and clicked down the hall to the dining room, pausing in the doorway to survey the scene. Will had his sleeves rolled up, with a can of blue paint in one hand and a brush in the other. Five boys ranging in age from eleven to fourteen stood at stations along the back wall listening carefully to Will’s instructions about the direction of their strokes and the necessity of wiping up paint dribbles immediately.

  Lucy went no further.

  Clearly Will had been in the building for quite some time. If he’d wanted to speak to her, he would have. At least he had not abandoned St. Andrew’s. At least for now, he wouldn’t break Benny’s heart. Blinking back stinging tears, Lucy resumed her path out of the building.

  Outside, she could hardly believe her eyes. Oh, not now! There was Daniel, leaning against his carriage looking as if he were exempt from the cold.

  “Hello, Daniel,” she said evenly, fully intending to press past him.

  “Hello, Lucy. I didn’t realize I would run into you today.” Casually, he stepped into her path.

  Does he think I’m an idiot?

  “Daniel, why do you follow me?” Lucy asked.

  “What makes you think I’m following you?”

  “Do you have business at the orphanage?” she asked, sighing.

  “I promised my mother I would bring her donation.”

  “You could have just mailed a check.”

  “The personal touch is so much more meaningful, wouldn’t you agree? Things don’t get lost that way.”

  Things don’t get lost? “Mr. Emmett is in his office. I’m sure he’ll be grateful for whatever you can give.”

  “I understand Mr. Edwards has begun volunteering here as well.”

  “Yes, that’s true.” Get to the point, Daniel.

  “I also understand he’s run into some difficulties at his place of employment.”

  “You would have to ask him about that.”

  “Perhaps I will, the next time I see him.” He gestured toward the carriage. “If you care to wait while I go see Mr. Emmett, I would be happy to escort you home. I won’t be a minute.”

  “That’s not necessary. I can manage.”

  “Yes, I suppose so. After all, you’ve been navigating the city for quite some time without my knowledge.”

  She held her response to his barb.

  “Well,” Daniel said, “I suppose it’s a relief that your father’s things were recovered.”

  Lucy raised an eyebrow. “He’s grateful to have them back.”

  “No doubt. It’s rather odd they should turn up where they did, don’t you think?”

  Lucy was silent, trying to read the face of the man she had once thought she would marry.

  “That pen leaks,” Daniel said. “I’m not sure why Samuel is so fond of it. You’re fortunate it didn’t leak on your things in the drawer.”

  “I didn’t realize you’d heard all the details,” Lucy said.

  “Oliver,” Daniel said simply. “He keeps me up to date.” He looked at Lucy’s face, unflinching.

  Lucy nodded. Oliver has been in New York for the last two weeks.

  “Perhaps I’ll see you later,” Daniel said, smiling in that way Lucy recognized as pleasure. “I may spend the night in town so I can be fresh for an early meeting at the bank. I have a new account, a firm seeking a loan to build a new office building. It just came up this week.”

  Daniel tipped his hat at Lucy and sauntered into St. Andrew’s.

  Lucy pivoted, suddenly in need of a robust walk. She would not even try to find a cab.

  26

  I do wish you would have agreed to a trip to Europe,” Flora whined on Monday morning. “If we had left in mid-February, we could have been back in plenty of time for the fair’s opening, and you would have had an adequate wardrobe for the spring and summer.”

  “I’m hardly in danger of going without clothes.” Lucy’s mother had been pushing for weeks to go to Europe—even after she knew Lucy was enrolled in a class at the university. “Lenae can make me anything I need. Besides, there’s far too much to do for the
women’s exhibit before opening day.”

  “I suppose you’re meeting with that architect again,” Flora said.

  Lucy’s heart lurched, then fell back into place with the realization that her mother meant not Will but the architect of the women’s exhibit.

  “Her name is Sophia Hayden,” Lucy explained—for the umpteenth time. “She has been unwell lately. I’m not sure if she’ll attend today’s meeting.”

  “The women’s exhibit seems to have become your Monday ritual.”

  “The time suits everyone’s schedule.” Lucy checked the tilt of her hat in the foyer mirror. “There’s a small group of us charged with making sure all the details are in place. Mrs. Palmer is quite particular, and we have only seven weeks left.”

  She smoothed her skirt one last time. The woolen cashmere suit, with matching blue skirt and jacket and a contrasting cream silk blouse, suited Lucy’s tastes while meeting her mother’s standards for quality of workmanship. Flora remained skeptical of the clothing of the “New Woman,” but Lucy appreciated the practicality and flexibility the styles offered. If she got overly warm in her work, she could simply remove her jacket and still be appropriately dressed, an alternative not available with conventional two-piece suits. Charlotte had gently waved her hair and drawn it back into a small, high chignon, a style that pleased Lucy.

  Penard stood by to open the front door for Lucy, and Archie had already brought the carriage around. Lucy’s leather satchel contained her notes for the meeting. She kissed her mother’s cheek, walked through the open door, and allowed Archie to assist her into the carriage.

  Of course Lucy did not want to leave Chicago in the middle of a university term. And of course she would not abandon her duties with the women’s exhibit and disappoint the Board of Lady Managers. She supposed those reasons were why her mother had not put her foot down and insisted Lucy go to Europe to have a wardrobe made. What Lucy would not say aloud to her mother, though, was that she would not leave Will behind—especially until she understood why he was being aloof.

  Five hours later Lucy returned to Prairie Avenue, exited the carriage, and walked through the front door ready to toss her satchel on the foyer table and remove her hat. She had no sooner pulled out the first hat pin than Leo crashed through the door behind her.

  “He’s gone,” he said.

  “Who?” Lucy asked innocently enough, thinking perhaps Leo was looking for Daniel.

  “Will. He’s gone. I can’t find him anywhere.”

  Lucy spun around to search her brother’s face. “What do you mean, gone? Did he lose his position?”

  Leo shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Did you telephone his office?”

  “They only said Mr. Edwards was not available.”

  “His rooms?”

  “Empty. His landlady hasn’t seen him since early Saturday morning. No one has.”

  “That means he’s been gone most of three days,” Lucy reasoned. “Surely somebody knows something.”

  “I have been trying all day to track him down,” Leo said firmly. “We had plans this morning, and he didn’t show up. Will doesn’t know that many people in Chicago, so how many places could he be? No one has talked to him in days.”

  “Did you see his rooms for yourself? Perhaps—”

  Leo was shaking his head. “No clues, Lucy. Everything is as it should be, but his valise is gone.”

  “So you really think he left the city.”

  Leo nodded. “I do. But I don’t understand why, or where he would have gone.”

  “New Jersey?”

  “That’s a long trip to make without planning ahead. Why wouldn’t he have mentioned something to me?”

  Or me, Lucy thought. Is this why he wouldn’t speak to me on Friday?

  For three days, Lucy waited for word of Will, but Leo found nothing new. Lucy even inquired of Mr. Emmett if Will had happened to mention any upcoming plans. She went so far as to try to ferret something out of Benny.

  No one knew where Will Edwards was.

  By Thursday evening, Leo was fuming but resigned that he would have to wait for Will to contact him and explain himself. When Lucy walked into the parlor for the pre-dinner family gathering, she nearly turned around and walked out.

  Although Daniel still used his room at the Banning house for the convenience of staying near his downtown office at the bank, his appearances at dinner had become sporadic. Lucy knew Oliver and Leo still saw Daniel from time to time for a tennis match or a party, and she did not begrudge them the lifelong friendship, but given his recent penchant for turning up at odd times and places, she was content not to have him at the dinner table. But there he was, smiling and making pleasant conversation with her parents, whose affection for him was unabated.

  At least it was Thursday, so Aunt Violet would be there. Lucy missed Charlotte, though, gone for her day out. She imagined the maid sitting on Mrs. Given’s faded sofa with Henry on her lap, or throwing him in the air until he giggled, or taking him out in the buggy for fresh air, or rocking him to sleep before she returned to Prairie Avenue and a world where he was not welcomed.

  “Hello, Lucy.” Daniel’s cheerful tone snapped Lucy back to the scene at hand.

  “Daniel was just telling us about his new client,” Samuel supplied.

  “Oh? The office building folks?” Lucy hoped she sounded casual.

  “That’s right,” Daniel responded. “I think we’ve come to an agreeable business arrangement.”

  Leo spoke up. “When Will got that commission, I thought Daniel could help seal the deal with a solid loan. And he could see what great work Will does and perhaps recommend him to others.”

  “I’m sure Will would appreciate that.” Inwardly Lucy grimaced at Leo’s unfettered trust in Daniel.

  “Your friend seems to have disappeared from the picture, though,” Daniel said. “My recent conversations about the funds required for the project have been with the owners of the architectural firm.” He chuckled. “It would seem Mr. Edwards was careless about some detail and will have to prove himself trustworthy once again.”

  Lucy glanced at Leo, who tilted his head to consider Daniel’s remark.

  “Daniel,” Leo said, “my intention was that a business arrangement between you and Will would benefit you both. I hope you did not misunderstand that.”

  Good for you, Leo!

  “In any event,” Daniel responded, “your friend seems to be unavailable to answer questions, and one of the partners has taken over the project. I don’t suppose you know where to reach Mr. Edwards?”

  “No, I don’t,” Leo admitted, moving toward the window and gazing out.

  “So the project is moving forward successfully?” Lucy queried in an even tone.

  Daniel nodded. “It would seem so. Just without Mr. Edwards.”

  “But he did the drawings,” Lucy protested. “Twice!”

  “Ah, but having to do them twice was the result of his carelessness.”

  Lucy clenched her fists against Daniel’s smugness.

  Aunt Violet stood up at that moment and glared. “Daniel, you seem amused. Might I ask what you know about this alleged carelessness?”

  Thank you, Aunt Violet!

  Daniel waved a hand. “Very little, actually. The client expressed some rather strong opinions about what happened when it delayed the loan. That’s all.”

  “Are you sure?” Violet prodded.

  Daniel smiled blandly. “I don’t take your meaning, Violet. I’ve said all I know.”

  Flora interrupted. “Must we have all this business conversation at dinner? I’m sure we can find something to talk about that is of more interest to everyone.”

  Lucy had to call for Elsie to help undo the back of her satin gown. As soon as the dress was off, she dismissed the maid and sat down to brush out her own hair. Thursday evenings without Charlotte had become a peculiar time. After dinner she had managed a quick, hushed conversation with Aunt Violet in which the older w
oman made clear she thought Daniel knew more than he was saying. Lucy didn’t know what to think. Now she wished she could talk to the only real confidante she had. Charlotte would know what to say to calm her nerves.

  Where are you, Will?

  27

  Charlotte gave the rag a final twist and hung it over a hook at the back of the sink. Sunday luncheon was finally over, and the kitchen was scrubbed down. The rest of the day was hers, and Henry was waiting. He would probably still be napping when she arrived at Mrs. Given’s house, but Charlotte loved to stand over his crib and watch his chest rise and fall. He slept on his back with his arms flung over his head and his tiny lips twitching with his dreams. Mrs. Given would offer her tea, and Charlotte would hold a steaming mug while she watched her son sleep, waiting for that radiant moment when he opened his eyes and she was the first thing he saw. Perhaps she would take him out in the buggy for some air.

  Thirty-five minutes later, Charlotte rapped on Mrs. Given’s door. No answer. She knocked again and called out.

  Rather than the scrape of a chair or footsteps, Charlotte heard crying. Henry’s crying—louder than she had ever heard before. She pounded on the door.

  “Mrs. Given, what’s going on? Open the door!”

  Finally she heard fumbling on the other side of the locked door. Mary Given pulled the door open and greeted Charlotte with frantic exhaustion, her hair dropping from its pins and her eyes bloodshot.

  Henry was not sleeping. He was screaming in Mary’s arms.

  Charlotte reached for her son. “He’s burning up!”

  “He took sick on Friday,” Mary explained. “I thought it was just a runny nose, but by evening he had a fever.”

  “That’s two days!” Panic surged up in Charlotte. “How long has he been this bad?” She put her face against her son’s hot cheek. Henry continued to scream.

  “He’s been inconsolable since yesterday afternoon. The fever rose suddenly and he’s hardly slept at all.”