“I should hope not! Mrs. Schyler won’t even speak to me anymore.”
“Oh, Mother, you never liked her anyway. She’s a terrible woman.”
“Yes, but you might alienate someone I do like if I’m not careful. Who is it you want to meet this time?”
“I’m not sure,” Sarah admitted.
“Not sure? Then how do you think your father can help?”
Sarah sighed. She’d have to tell her mother the whole story. “Well, you see, there’s been a murder…”
“Oh, Sarah, how do you manage to get involved in these things?” her mother cried in dismay. “I’m almost twice as old as you, and I’ve never even known anyone who was murdered!”
“I didn’t know this person either,” Sarah defended herself. “Not well, at least.”
Her mother put a hand to her forehead and shook her head sadly.
“My neighbor has been accused of killing her, you see and-”
“Oh, dear, stop right there. Let me ring for some tea. I can see this is going to be a long story, and I, for one, need fortification. Pull the bell, will you, dear?”
An hour later, Sarah and her mother were finishing up their tea and the last of the delicious pastries the cook had sent up with it, just as Sarah finished her story.
“I promised Mrs. Ellsworth I’d help Nelson keep his job at the bank, but I know there’s nothing I can do. If I walked in there and asked to see the president of the bank, they might let me in to see him, but he’d probably laugh right in my face or worse. It seems that when a woman takes an interest in helping a man, people always assume there is some romantic attachment between them. That’s not only annoying, but it also causes people to misinterpret the woman’s motives in trying to help.”
“You don’t have to instruct me in the ways of the world, Sarah. I understood them long before you were born. At least you have the good sense not to involve yourself in this. You could do this poor man more harm than good if you did. Can you imagine what the newspapers would say if they found out who your father is?”
Sarah simply nodded, knowing anything she said on the subject would upset her mother. She only hoped she never had to explain just how Webster Prescott had come to name her as Nelson Ellsworth’s paramour in The World.
“You were right to come to us,” her mother was saying. “I’m sure your father can speak to the president of this bank, whoever he is. Of course, if your friend is arrested for murder, I’m not sure even your father’s influence would save the man’s job.”
“My friend Mr. Malloy is working on the case. I’m sure he’ll find the real killer very soon,” Sarah said to reassure her.
Her mother looked far from reassured, however. “Are you still seeing that policeman, Sarah?”
“I was never seeing him, Mother,” Sarah said. “We are friends, nothing more.”
“An unmarried female can never be just friends with an unmarried man, not in the eyes of the world. You must know that yourself. Do you have any idea how easily such a relationship can be misconstrued?”
“Of course I do,” she insisted. “And believe me, there is nothing between us that could even be misconstrued.”
“I hope not. You know we didn’t approve of your marriage to Dr. Brandt. Not that we had anything against him, of course. He was a fine man. But you gave up everything for him, Sarah.”
“I didn’t give up anything I ever regretted losing,” Sarah said, ignoring the flash of pain the mention of her late husband caused.
Another kind of pain flashed in her mother’s eyes, but she chose not to dwell on it. “Even though we didn’t want to see you so reduced in circumstances, at least Dr. Brandt was a respectable man with an honest profession. But a policeman, Sarah? They’re worse than the criminals they deal with!”
Her mother was right; policemen were corrupt. Malloy was as honest as he could be, under the circumstances, but even that wouldn’t meet her mother’s standards. “You’re worrying for no reason, Mother. I have no intention of marrying Mr. Malloy, and he has no intention of marrying me.”
“I don’t see how he could have,” she said. “He’s Irish, isn’t he? They aren’t allowed to marry outside their faith.”
By “Irish,” she meant “Catholic,” and being Irish Catholic was a far greater sin in Elizabeth Decker’s eyes than being a dishonest policeman. Sarah wanted to chasten her for such prejudice, but she knew it would be a waste of breath and would only distract her from her real purpose in being here. “As I said, we aren’t going to marry, so it can’t possibly matter,” she said wearily.
Only then did she see the depth of concern in her mother’s blue eyes. “There are more things than that to worry about, dear. Be careful, Sarah. I know you’re lonely, and this man knows it, too. He’ll try to prey on that loneliness. Don’t let him deceive you, darling. Don’t be a fool.”
So that’s what her mother was really concerned about! Sarah should have been angry at her lack of faith, but the thought of Malloy as a sly seducer of lonely widows was so ludicrous, she could only laugh. And when she thought of Malloy’s mother and how she’d probably given him exactly the same warning about Sarah, she laughed harder.
Her mother stared at her incredulously. “Sarah?”
“Oh, mother, if you only knew… Believe me, you don’t need to worry about Malloy, not for one moment. My virtue and reputation are safe. In fact, they couldn’t be safer.”
Her mother frowned in confusion, but she didn’t press the matter. Sarah had either alarmed her or reassured her, but whichever it was, she was willing to let the subject drop.
“Is Father home today?” Sarah asked when she had composed herself.
“I believe he is. Let’s find out, shall we?”
She and her mother discussed society gossip, avoiding personal topics by unspoken consent, while they waited for a servant to summon her father. A few minutes later, he knocked on the door connecting their bedrooms, and her mother bid him enter.
“Sarah, you’re out early,” he said, coming over to kiss her forehead. He wore a dressing gown and a collarless shirt. Plainly, he’d had no plans this morning. He turned to his wife. “Good morning, my dear. You’re looking lovely.” He also kissed her on the forehead.
Sarah realized she’d never seen her parents embrace. They would think displays of affection unseemly, of course, but still, she liked to think they did at least sometimes display affection, however privately. Why this thought should occur to her at this particular moment in her life, however, she had no idea.
Her father seated himself on the slipper chair that matched hers. “To what mischance do we owe the honor of your visit this morning?” he asked her with a hint of a smile.
“Father, I don’t only visit you when I need help,” she reminded him.
“No, but you rarely call at dawn on Saturday morning, either,” he replied. “This must be urgent indeed.”
“Someone has been murdered,” her mother informed him with disapproval.
“Dare I ask who? Not someone we know, I hope.”
“Not his time,” her mother said. “A female of questionable morals, it would appear.”
“Then why do you care?” her father asked Sarah, even more disapproving than her mother.
“Because my neighbor has been accused of the crime,” Sarah said. “He’s innocent, but the newspapers have already pronounced him guilty, and they’re saying terrible things about him. Untrue things, and he’s probably going to lose his job if someone doesn’t do something.”
Her father frowned. “Is this that Ellsworth fellow I read about in the papers? They said he seduced some poor woman and killed her when she demanded that he make her an honest woman.”
“None of it is true,” Sarah said, and briefly gave him the facts as she knew them. “I believe we are going to find the real killer soon, but meanwhile the reporters have been hounding Nelson’s employers, and I’m afraid they’re going to let him go, innocent or not.”