When Stars Fall at Midnight, page 20
Miss Scarlet motioned for me to come to her table. For most of the night, she’d had a revolving array of male guests surrounding her. Did she ever take them to her quarters at the end of a party? Or did she only arrange it for her girls?
I obediently scurried over, heart pounding. Had I done something wrong?
I took the seat next to her. She slipped a cigarette from her gold case, stuck it into a tortoiseshell holder, and motioned to one of the servers. He came running. “May I have a light, darling?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He struck a match and leaned close to light it for her. She inhaled; the end of the cigarette glowed red.
“Doctor Bancroft has inquired about your availability.” Miss Scarlet tilted her head, cigarette held loosely between her fingers.
What should I say? The truth? Or a version of it anyway? So much for my vow to be honest from here on out.
“Who are you, really?”
I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment. “My father is Sean Sullivan.”
“Oh, I see now.”
“Is it true?” I whispered. “Did he kill Mary Bancroft’s father?”
“According to gossip, yes. I hear a lot on a nightly basis.”
“Once they discovered who I was, it was no longer an option to live with them or work for them,” I said.
“He’s inquired about securing your company tonight.”
I gulped. “Company? Tonight?” Did she mean what I thought she meant?
“Yes, in fact, he’s asked that you’re reserved only for him.”
I stared at her in shock. “Is that possible?”
“Anything’s possible for the right price.” She drew on the end of her cigarette, watching me through wafts of smoke. “You must know his situation if you stayed with them?”
“How do you mean? His wife?”
“That’s correct.”
“I know she’s very ill.”
“Terribly sad, isn’t it? The poor man.” Miss Scarlet tapped her cigarette into the ashtray on the table. “I can remember when it happened—such a shock. The whole sordid affair was in the papers, which was unfortunate, but you know how people love gossip.”
“What story is that?”
She flicked the cigarette ash from the end of her cigarette into a ceramic bowl. “He didn’t tell you what she did?”
Was she referring to the baby? Or something else? Had there been more to the tale than either of the Bancrofts had shared with me?
“I know she was admitted to the asylum after the birth of her child,” I said. “As it was told to me, she suffered a psychotic breakdown after she had the baby. Dr. Bancroft told me she tried to hurt the infant and he had no other choice but to put her into the care of others.”
“It wasn’t the infant she hurt. She shot Dr. Bancroft with a pistol. Although she had aimed for his chest, the bullet pierced his shoulder instead. He lost a lot of blood—they thought they might lose him for good.”
My mouth fell open. “I had no idea.” Why hadn’t he told me? For the same reason I hadn’t told him the truth of my situation? Shame? Fear? Most likely, there were so many complicated reasons and emotions that he might not even know himself why he’d lied and told me it was Clara she’d tried to hurt. “What happened to her afterward?”
“The police were informed, of courses.Typically, she would have been sent to prison, but Dr. Bancroft refused to press charges—claimed it was an accident. Which doesn’t make much sense. In fact, it’s a bold-faced lie, or he’d never have sent her to the asylum. She’s watched closely from what I understand, as she’s deemed violent.”
“How awful,” I murmured. Yet he still visited her every week. However, she was the mother of his child. He’d loved her at some point and perhaps still did, despite what she’d done. Perhaps he understood that her violence was a symptom of her mental illness, not criminal behavior. “How do you know all this?”
“Like I said, kid, it was in the papers. The Bancrofts were once a prominent family in the city and are of interest to people.”
“What do you mean by ‘were once a prominent family,’” I asked. “Aren’t they still?”
“Not in the way they once were. After the scandals, you know, things changed. First Mr. Bancroft dies in the arms of the wife of a powerful politician.”
“I thought it was his mistress?”
“That’s what I said.” She cocked her head to the side and observed me through narrowed eyes, almost as though I was a little soft in the old noggin. “One of Mrs. Bancroft’s enemies—to this day no one knows who—told anyone who would listen what had happened, and the papers picked it up. Instead of an obituary listing his accomplishments, everything was overshadowed by his affair.”
“Mrs. Bancroft must have been mortified,” I said more to myself than Miss Scarlet.
“I imagine she was.” This was said without an ounce of sympathy.
The more I heard, the sicker I felt. Was it any wonder Percival and Mrs. Bancroft didn’t trust people? They’d been betrayed by people they loved. As I knew from personal experience, once that happens, one can never see the world in quite the same way as before.
“Does he come here often?” I asked.
“No. He comes with a friend now and again, but never goes upstairs with any of the girls. When I’ve asked him about it, he says it’s not something that he’s interested in but enjoys the parties.”
Why did her answer bring so much air back into my lungs?
“Which is why it’s such a surprise he’s asked for you,” Miss Scarlet said. “Although, now I’ve learned of your ties to him, it makes more sense.”
“Does it? We’ve not had that kind of relationship. You might not believe me, but it’s true.” The corner of one of my eyes twitched with nerves and exhaustion. How did these girls do this night after night? My emotions and nerves were frazzled and confused. I wanted to crawl into the warm bed that awaited upstairs and fall into a deep sleep just so I could forget everything for a few hours.
“Given his past, it’s understandable that he seek comfort outside his marriage, wouldn’t you agree?” Miss Scarlet asked before taking another drag.
“I daresay, it’s not for me to judge, one way or the other.”
“Many of our guests tonight have similar situations. Either they have an agreement that he’s to seek physical comfort elsewhere, or the union’s cold or contentious. Some of them have sick wives, in one form or the other. You look around this room and everyone has a story. Not all of them are victims of bad luck, of course, but many are. I’ve found, after years in this business, that the human need for physical affection outweighs many things, including reputation and pride. My girls and I provide a service to those in need. There’s no shame in it, for either party involved.”
I wanted to ask her the reason for this lecture but refrained. Thoughts spun around my mind, unable to land on one subject for any period of time. He wanted to pay for my company? Night after night? Did he mean for it to be in the true sense of the word? For me to give myself to him in that way? If he’d wanted that, why hadn’t he pursued me earlier? He knew how desperate I was. If he’d asked, I may have granted him permission to come and go from the guest room as he pleased in exchange for my room and board. I’d sunk low enough that I might have agreed. I was here, wasn’t I?
No, that wasn’t right. The truth was, I loved him. If I agreed to share a bed with him, it was not out of necessity. I must stop lying to myself. I’d known it for months before I left.
“He wants to speak with you in your room,” Miss Scarlet said. “I sent him up, promising you would join him.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
She flicked her cigarette into the ashtray but continued to gaze at me, with a mixture of contempt and fury. “Do you wish to stay the night? Repay me for the meals you’ve scarfed down?”
“I’m desperate to stay the night, as I’m sure you guessed. The meals were a gift, no?”
She raised one eyebrow but then motioned toward the door with a dart of her chin. “Go to him. Now.”
Feeling I had little choice, I did as she asked. Each step I took felt like one step closer to death. What did he want? By the time I reached the second floor, perspiration dampened the base of my spine. The dress suddenly felt heavier than when I’d been dancing.
What was I supposed to do with Percival once I got to the room? At the top of the stairs, an additional question entered my mind. What if he wanted to take me to bed? What then?
21
Estelle
In the suite, Maxine and Ginnie were entertaining gentlemen near the fireplace and did not look up when I walked past them to my room. I opened the door gingerly, steeling myself. Courage. I must have courage.
Percival sat in the chair by the window, a glass of whiskey on the table next to him. A quick glance toward the desk revealed a decanter filled with the same amber liquid. Who had brought it to my room? Had he asked for it specially, or was this something Miss Scarlet always had delivered to the rooms of her girls on a night such as this?
The lights on the street shone outside the glass. Snow continued to fall. Flakes danced and twirled in the breeze, creating a lovely pattern. He did not rise when I shut the door, only lifted the glass of whiskey on the side table to his mouth, watching me. A lamp shed a dim glow, creating shadows on his face.
“Percival, how lovely to see you,” I said with more than a hint of sarcasm. “Have you paid your way to my room?”
Even in the dim light, I could see him pale. “God help me, Stella. What are you doing here? Do you understand what the men downstairs want from you? What you would have to do with them? This isn’t just a party.”
I flushed with heat. “I’m quite aware, thank you. I’m not an idiot.”
“This is not the place for you,” Percival said.
“I have no place. Not anymore.”
“These men—they’re rough and don’t care who they hurt, especially a prostitute.”
I winced at the word. He was right, of course. I would be a prostitute if I stayed.
“What do you suggest I do about eating? Or finding a warm place to sleep? Because I’ve had little of either since I last saw you.” My legs shook as I lowered myself into the chair opposite him.
“That’s what I want to talk to you about.” He got up to pour himself another whiskey, as well as one for me.
I accepted it from his outstretched hand and took a small, tentative sip. I almost gagged. It was terrible, burning the back of my throat. I set it aside.
“You want to pay for me to stay here and come to visit me when you wish?” I asked.
His cheeks flamed red. “No, you’ve mistaken my intention.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ve felt terrible guilt since sending you away. Then tonight I saw you…here. I cannot in good conscience abandon you. Leaving you here to do this kind of work is out of the question.”
“Then why did you ask me to leave your home in the first place? If you’re so terribly guilty?” I couldn’t keep the anger from my voice. “Anyway, you’re not really in any position to decide my fate. Excuse me while I laugh at the very idea.” I scowled, unable to conjure up even a sarcastic chuckle.
He returned my scowl. “You know as well as I that we couldn’t go on as we were. Not after what Simon discovered. If you’d told us the truth in the beginning, perhaps it would have been different.”
“Had you known I was a Sullivan, you would never have brought me home.”
He sighed, nodding. “You’re right. That’s the truth of it. However, I did bring you home, and it changed everything.”
I looked down at my lap. A bead had loosened during my dancing and now hung by a thread. An urge to tug it loose and toss it at Percival’s head came over me. I resisted, speaking through gritted teeth. “As I’ve said, I’m sorry I lied to you and brought this complication to your life. My lie was not to hide my identity specifically from you. There was no nefarious plan to infiltrate your family. I had no idea the connection between us. Surely you know that?”
“I do.”
“It’s important my family does not know where I am. That’s the only reason I lied.” Tears threatened. I bit the inside of my lip to push them back inside me.
“You said your family wouldn’t be looking for you,” Percival said. “Which makes your name change befuddling to me.”
Taken aback, I stared at him. He didn’t understand my reasoning. How could he not? “No, it’s not about my parents or sister knowing where I am. This is all for the baby. Mireille must never know I exist. If she found out I was her mother, it would break her heart. She’d come to believe that everyone who claimed to love her had lied to her. I couldn’t leave that to chance.”
He blinked, looking positively astonished. “I hadn’t thought about it that way. I should have. You’re a mother.”
“I can’t give her much—can’t raise her or be part of her life—but I can give her freedom from the burden of truth. You’re right, though, my family has no interest in finding me. I was their problem, and I conveniently left. No one cares whether I live or die. I can accept all that as long as Mireille doesn’t get hurt.”
“I care.”
“So you say.”
“I’d like to set you up in an apartment. A permanent situation.”
“You want to move me into an apartment?” I stared at him incredulously. “In exchange for the living arrangement, what will you expect from me? I know very little about the relations between a man and a woman. Constantine and I only shared intimacy the one time.”
An emotion I couldn’t place flickered in his eyes. “I did wonder about that.”
“Luella told me that women who work here dream of this kind of arrangement. Better a mistress than a prostitute, right?” I asked, a bitter edge to my voice.
“No, no. You’ve got it wrong. You won’t be my mistress. I expect nothing physical. I’ll want nothing of you, other than for you to stay safe.”
“You’ll pay for me to live in a nice apartment with absolutely nothing expected in payment?”
“Correct,” he said.
“You’ll excuse me for any doubt I might have in that regard? Constantine was a gentleman at first. From what I witnessed tonight, men have many motives, and charity isn’t usually one of them.”
“What kind of hypocrite would I be if I took you away from all of this only to force myself upon you? I am not my father.”
“I know you’re not,” I said.
“I want to look after you because I care about you. It’s as simple as that. I’m offering you a life of ease. Please, take it. For me, if not for yourself, so that I can sleep at night.”
“You haven’t been sleeping? Because of me?”
“God help me, woman, you’re enough to drive a man to drink. Of course it’s because of you. For someone so intelligent, you’re truly oblivious to certain things.” He scraped a hand through his thick brown hair. For the first time that night, I noticed how tired he looked. Haggard, actually, as if he hadn’t slept well in weeks. “Dammit, Stella, are you going to make me say it?”
I flinched at his use of a curse word. “Say what?”
For a moment, he seemed at war with himself before his mask slipped back into place. “I’ll be able to sleep at night, and you’ll have shelter and sustenance. We’ll both be better off.”
“What happens when you grow tired of me?” I asked.
He slammed his glass against the table, causing me to jump. “I won’t. I’ll never grow tired of you. All I want is to be with you every minute of the day. Don’t you see? I love you. I’m madly in love with you. I have been since the first minute I laid eyes upon you. Living without you these last few weeks has been excruciating. If things were different and I wasn’t married, I’d ask you to marry me. Actually, I’d beg you. But things being as they are for me—stuck in a marriage that exists only on paper—this is the best I can offer you.”
“You would marry me?”
“That’s what I said.”
I sat for a moment, letting it sink in. He would actually want me to be his wife, despite my past. He loved me. I loved him. Yet we could not have a life together. Not one in the light of day, anyway.
“I would say yes,” I said.
Tears brimmed in his eyes. “You would?”
“In a second.”
“I’m sorry I can’t offer you a better life. I truly am.” He paused, clearly trying not to cry. “I’d give you children and a family that loves you unconditionally.” He looked right into my eyes, his words like the caresses he could not give me. “You deserve the best of everything, but I can only give you what I have to offer.”
I was too overcome to trust myself to speak, and only nodded.
“What did you promise Miss Scarlet?” Percival asked.
“In exchange for a meal and a place to sleep tonight, I promised her I’d think about her proposition to stay permanently.”
His eyes flashed with obvious anger. “She lied to me—told me you’d been here for weeks. ‘Very experienced’ were her words she used when I inquired about you.”
“Since I only arrived this afternoon, it would be hard for me to have experience.”
“Thank God. The idea of you with—” He cut himself off. “If you’re willing to accept my offer, then I’ll work out whatever Miss Scarlet thinks she’s owed. As if she can claim you as her own. The woman has a lot of nerve.”
“What will people think?” I asked, my mind having moved along to the practical side of things. “A woman living alone in a nice apartment—won’t people ask questions?”
“You’ll have to be discreet. Keep to yourself. Ironically, you’ll need to come up with yet another name. One that Simon will not discover. I’ll make sure you have books and other entertainment. You’ll want for nothing. We can come up with a story about who you are. Possibly a widow? Not everyone will believe you, but at least it’s something to say when people ask.”
