The Pursuit of Lucy Banning,A Novel (Avenue of Dreams) Page 22

  Daniel smiled and stepped to the side with her, preventing Lucy’s escape. Abruptly he gripped her elbow to the point of pain. “Why don’t we go somewhere and talk about this?”

  “If you don’t mind, Daniel, I was planning to go home.”

  “I do mind. I know you sent your driver home, so no one is expecting you. The hotel a few blocks away serves a wonderful afternoon menu.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  He clutched her elbow and pulled her uncomfortably close to his side, steering her across the lobby toward a door at the back of the building. His hot breath broke over her neck in waves as she struggled to keep up with the pace he set.

  “Where are we going, Daniel?”

  “I told you, the hotel. It’s not the Palmer House, but the food is well worth the effort of seeking it out.”

  “Why aren’t we going out to the street?”

  “The alley is much quicker.” He pushed open a door and urged her through it toward the left. “Just keep walking. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

  “Why would we stop before we reach the hotel?”

  “You ask too many questions, Lucy. That’s always been your problem. You don’t understand your place any more than that insipid maid of yours.”

  Lucy twisted in an effort to get her arm free, simultaneously glancing around to find the way out of the alley. Daniel’s muscular fingers never wavered.

  “Daniel, please. I don’t think this is the way to handle our differences.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  Lucy gasped as a shadow rose behind them, and Daniel’s grasp abruptly released her. She wheeled—and stared into the cobalt eyes of Will Edwards. With the advantage of three inches in height, he had Daniel’s throat captive in the crook of his arm.

  “Mr. Jules,” Will said, his voice full of authority, “I believe I can show you the way out of this alley. It’s really no place for a gentleman, and certainly no place to entertain a lady.”

  Will moved forward, taking Daniel with him and Lucy heaving with relief in his wake. At the end of the alley, Will nudged Daniel into the pedestrian traffic on the side street. “I believe you know your way from here.”

  Daniel glowered at Will and gave Lucy barely a glance, but he did walk away.

  Lucy clutched Will’s arm. “How did you . . . ? Where have you . . . ?”

  Will kicked a tin can out of the way, took her chin in his hand, and examined her face. With his eyes inches from hers, Lucy forgot to breathe. Will lowered his face to kiss her slowly and fully on the mouth. Lucy raised quaking hands to his shoulders and returned the kiss. Finally he released her lips with a sigh and enfolded her in his arms.

  “I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” Will said. “I have a few of my own. But I have a feeling we’ve just begun to find the answers.”

  Lucy nuzzled his shoulder, her arms around his neck now. “I never imagined our first kiss would be in a dirty alley, but I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in my whole life.”

  “I wonder who has been imagining our first kiss longer, you or I.” He kissed her again, deeply. When he finally broke the kiss—reluctantly, it seemed to Lucy—she wrapped her fingers around both his hands.

  “I just got back to town on the train,” Will said. “I was going to check in with my office when I saw Daniel taking you out the back door. I’m escorting you straight home, and we are going to talk to your parents about certain realities.”

  32

  Lucy clutched Will’s arm as they strode back through the stone lobby of the office building and emerged onto State Street into welcome sunlight. Will hailed a cab and helped Lucy step up into it, then climbed in and sat beside her. For once, she was grateful for a carriage, and the practicality of a streetcar did not cross her mind.

  “I’ve been worried sick about you,” Lucy said after Will had asked the driver to take them to Prairie Avenue. “Before you left, you were avoiding me, and then you disappeared without a word.”

  “The first part of what you said is true,” Will admitted, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close, “but the second part went awry.”

  “What do you mean?” Without reluctance, Lucy laid her head against Will’s shoulder.

  “I began to wonder what I really had to offer you,” Will confessed. “We come from different worlds.”

  “That’s ridiculous. We’re two people who care about each other. The rest of it is nothing to me.” She reached for his hand.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Will said.

  “Does it have something to do with why you took a leave of absence so suddenly?”

  He nodded. “In a way. Even Leo doesn’t know about how I grew up.”

  “I don’t understand,” Lucy said. It was true she never heard a single story about Will’s childhood, though Will knew a great deal about her youth. The stories he told her about his life before Chicago did not go back any further than his late teens.

  “I never knew my father,” Will explained. “My mother was a seamstress, but it was difficult for her to look after a child. I got into some trouble when I was eight and was nearly branded as a child criminal. She decided it was for my own good that I live somewhere with more supervision. I grew up in a place not so different from St. Andrew’s. I was one of the lucky ones, though. My mother stayed in touch.

  “Somehow I stayed in school till I was sixteen, though goodness knows most of my friends didn’t. After that, I worked in a factory. One day some sketches I’d done of the building fell out of my coat pocket, and the plant manager discovered them. When he called me into his office, I was sure I was being sacked. Instead, he said I had talent and he offered to help.”

  “And that’s how you ended up working for the architects?” Lucy said.

  Will nodded. “I started as an errand boy of sorts. Cleaning up. Fetching things. Eventually they started giving me some simple drawings to copy. Once they realized I planned to stick around, they made me an intern.”

  “And somewhere in there you met Leo.”

  “One of the partners gave a party. His son went to school with Leo. We ended up across the dinner table from each other.”

  Lucy laughed. “And once you meet Leo, you’re hooked. Everybody is.”

  “Leo is a great pal,” Will said, “but your parents are another matter. They think I went to school in Princeton with Leo, and even that is not good enough for them. What if they find out I never set foot inside a college in my life? What if getting involved with me meant you could never go back to Prairie Avenue? I didn’t want to take you away from everything you know. That would be asking you not to be Lucy.”

  “So you just left?”

  Will shook his head. “No. I got a telegram saying there was an emergency in New Jersey and I should come home.”

  “Your mother?”

  “The message said she had taken very ill and was not expected to live. Of course I arranged to go immediately and got on the first train east.”

  “Is she . . . did she . . . ?”

  “No, that’s not it,” he assured her quickly. “My mother was fine. I should have known. If she was so ill, how could she send a telegram? And there’s no one else who would have done it.”

  “But you did get a telegram.”

  “Yes, and I’ve tried to track down its origin. Someone went to a lot of trouble to make it appear as if it came from New Jersey, but now I suspect the source was right here in Chicago.”

  Lucy leaned back in the seat. “Daniel.”

  “After what I witnessed today, my suspicions are even stronger.”

  “He’s changed so much in the last few months. I don’t know him anymore, or what he’s capable of. But if your mother was fine, where have you been all this time?”

  “She was fine when I arrived,” Will explained. “She was so happy to see me that as long as I was there, I decided to stay for a visit. My employer had already given approval and I’d sent word to Le
o about where I was going.”

  Lucy sat up straight again. “But Leo looked everywhere for you when he first discovered you were gone. He called your office and they said they didn’t know where you were.”

  “They didn’t. I said only that I had urgent personal business to look after. And it’s possible whoever took Leo’s call was not aware of the arrangement. It was made in haste.”

  “And your landlady?”

  Will shrugged. “The rent is paid in advance, and she was not home when I left. I didn’t want to lose precious time looking for her.”

  “You said you sent word to Leo.”

  “A messenger. A boy came to the office and picked up the letter on Saturday morning.”

  Lucy shook her head. “Leo never got it.”

  “Obviously. Of course, I didn’t know that at the time.”

  “How could you?”

  “I assumed Leo would pass the word on to you. Sending you a note directly would have ruffled feathers at your house. And then my mother twisted her ankle badly the day I was to return to Chicago, and I felt I should stay a bit longer.”

  “Wait a minute,” Lucy said, “if the messenger did not deliver your note to Will, perhaps the messenger also did not deliver those drawings that went missing.”

  “I’m one step ahead of you.”

  “Daniel. He’s been behind everything.”

  “I know you like your independence, Lucy, but I’m concerned for your safety. We must tell your parents what Daniel has been doing.”

  “They think the world of him, and we have no proof of anything.”

  “We have proof that he threatened you today,” Will said. “I saw the way he was holding you against your will, and nobody in his right mind would take Lucy Banning of Prairie Avenue into an alley behind State Street.”

  “And why would someone like Daniel even know where the alley is? Why wasn’t he at the bank where he should have been on a Tuesday afternoon? He even knew I had dismissed my driver.”

  “The time for secrets is over, Lucy. Your parents need to know the truth for your safety.”

  “And Daniel’s parents should know for his safety.”

  They were almost to Prairie Avenue by then. Will’s confessions of his past reeled through her mind as they got out of the cab and Will paid the driver. In that moment, Lucy knew she wanted no secrets between them.

  But the last secret was not hers to tell.

  Flora came in the front door from the ladies auxiliary meeting with great fanfare and found Lucy and Will sitting in the parlor.

  “Why, Mr. Edwards, you’ve turned up.”

  “It turns out he was never really lost,” Lucy said.

  Will stood. “It’s lovely to see you again, Mrs. Banning.”

  “Mother, what time do you expect Father home today?” Lucy asked.

  “Around seven, I believe,” Flora answered. “You know your father always comes home in time for dinner.”

  It was nearly five. “Do you think there’s time to invite Irene and Howard to dinner?”

  “Tonight? That’s rather short notice. Perhaps on Saturday.”

  Lucy shook her head. “I’d like them to come tonight, and I’d like Will to stay. We have something we need to say to the four of you.”

  Flora looked from Lucy to Will with dubious eyes. “Lucy, dear, I can’t imagine what dealings Mr. Edwards would have with Irene and Howard.”

  “Please, Mother, just telephone them. I’d do it myself, but I don’t think they would come for my sake just now. They will for you, though.”

  “How will I explain the urgency?” Flora was unconvinced.

  “It has to do with Daniel. They’ll come if you say that.”

  Flora sighed. “This all sounds rather ominous.”

  Lucy did not deny the description. “There’s still time to catch a train from Riverside.”

  “I’m sure they’ll prefer to bring a carriage. Oh, all right, I’ll telephone. But whatever is going on had better be worthwhile.”

  “And perhaps you should arrange for Richard to have his dinner in his room,” Lucy suggested.

  Howard and Irene were stunned. Will looked back and forth between their faces, aware that what he had just described must have sounded ludicrous to them. Even Leo’s eyes were wide.

  “You are making some serious allegations, Mr. Edwards,” Howard Jules said, his eyes dark with confusion. “By your own admission, you’ve only met my son a handful of times in passing. What grounds do you have for these charges?”

  “I can imagine what you must be thinking,” Will said. “Mrs. Banning’s telephone call must have sounded mysterious. I appreciate your coming to dinner.”

  “I have little interest in the menu,” Howard said. “What does it matter what the roast is or whether it is served with potatoes or rice in the face of these accusations?”

  Progress of the meal came to a standstill before the soup and fish had been cleared away.

  “I’m sorry my account sounds like allegations,” Will said. “I’m afraid it’s all true.”

  “This explains a lot of things,” Leo said. “Daniel is my friend, but if these things are true—”

  “It’s all true.” Will was keenly aware how shocking his statements sounded, but he was not about to minimize the significance of Daniel’s behavior that day. “You’re quite right that I cannot prove—yet—that Daniel interfered with my messages or sent the telegram, but I am quite certain of what I saw this afternoon. His intentions toward Lucy were far from kind.”

  Samuel looked at his daughter. “Can you verify this, Lucy? Did the events happen as Mr. Edwards has described them?”

  She nodded. “I’m afraid so. This is not the first time Daniel has shown up out of nowhere, but it is the first time he pressed me to do anything against my will.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  Lucy shook her head. “No, but I really thought he might.”

  “Were there any witnesses?” Samuel probed.

  “Do you doubt my word, Father?” Lucy asked. “Or the account Mr. Edwards has given of what he himself saw?”

  “It would not stand up in court,” Samuel mused. “Hardly more than hearsay evidence that cannot be confirmed.”

  “You have my word that I never received the message Will sent me,” Leo pointed out.

  “But we have no evidence that Daniel sent a message,” Samuel countered, “and we have only Mr. Edwards’s word that he received a telegram.”

  “With all respect, Mr. Banning,” Will said, “this is not a court of law and we are not seeking to press charges. My concern is the safety of your daughter.”

  Lucy jumped in. “And mine is Daniel’s welfare.” She looked around the table. “Surely you can all see that he has become unwell.”

  “Of course Daniel is not unwell,” Irene Jules insisted, “at least not in the manner you imply. You broke his heart when you broke the engagement, and he has suffered some melancholy, as is to be expected.”

  “It’s more than melancholy,” Lucy challenged. “And seated around this table are the people who care for him most. If we won’t help him, who will?”

  Silence.

  “We’ll speak to him,” Howard finally said. “No doubt he’ll be home when we get there, since he hasn’t come here.”

  “He sometimes comes in rather late,” Leo pointed out. “Perhaps I’ll see him at breakfast.”

  “If you see him before we do,” Irene said, “please do not alarm him. Just ask him to telephone his mother.”

  “In the meantime, perhaps Lucy should have a companion whenever she goes out,” Will suggested. “Her Aunt Violet or one of the maids. At the very least she must have a coachman or footman with her at all times.” He did not dare suggest himself as a suitable companion. Despite the afternoon’s events, the Bannings would surely regard such an offer as inappropriate.

  The meat was served, then the vegetables and finally the salad. Will pushed food around on his plates in between sparse
bits of conversation. For the most part, everyone lowered their hands to their laps to indicate they were finished nearly as soon as the last person had been served. No one ate, and Will wondered why they were going through the motions of being served. Charlotte moved among the guests, removing plates that were barely touched.

  Will saw the maid glance at Lucy just long enough for Lucy to return the look before picking up her water goblet. He laid his knife across his bread plate as he considered the significance. It was a secure glance—familial, a glance friends would share over a confidence. Lucy knew something she wasn’t telling him, he was sure of it.

  By general consensus, dessert and coffee were omitted, and Howard and Irene returned to their luxurious carriage. By ten o’clock, Will said good night to Lucy as well—standing in the foyer in the presence of her parents and Leo—and exchanged a glance with her himself. Daniel had not appeared, and Will hoped he would not have the gall to present himself at the Bannings’. However, Daniel’s state of mind was dubious. He’d been doing a lot of things no one would have imagined.

  After Will closed the door behind him and stepped away from the house, he turned for one last glance through the window. The others had moved away from the foyer, but Lucy was still there, speaking with Charlotte, their heads curiously close together.

  33

  Lucy did not see Daniel for the next few days. None of the Bannings saw him, and the servants reported each morning at breakfast that he had not used his room on the second floor. Perhaps his parents had been able to talk some sense into him after all, Lucy reasoned.

  On the other hand, Lucy saw Will as often as she could. They had managed a few minutes together on Wednesday after he finished his workday, and she had brought him home for dinner on Thursday, much to Violet’s delight. On Friday, she spent the day at St. Andrew’s as usual, marking the hours until he would arrive to spend the evening painting with the boys. Lucy stayed late to cheer them on. She took a pile of papers that needed sorting to one of the tables in the dining hall, staying well away from any open paint cans or loose brushes. Several of the younger children helped her shuffle papers around until they were called to their own supper. However, most of her attention went to watching Will’s patient instruction and encouragement with the boys. Finally, around six-thirty, Lucy knew she must go home if she were going to be changed in time for dinner.