I Heard a Fly Buzz When I Died, page 24
“Please go in,” Mr. Thayer said. “And keep yourself out of sight as best you can. It is clear from what you are wearing that you are not one of the guests.”
His words stung, but before he changed his mind, I slipped into the grand house. I had always believed the Dickinson home was grand—and it was, compared to any other place I had lived throughout my life—but the Thayer Manor was so much more. The ceilings were several feet higher, and each one had ornate paneling. The floor in the entryway was marble. There were faces of cherubim engraved into the banisters.
Although I had been in the Thayer home just the day before, I had only been in the grand parlor where Mrs. Thayer had tea with the ladies. That door was closed tonight, and beyond the one room and the entryway, I did not know the layout of the house. Thankfully, the partygoers were all traveling single file through the home to where I assumed the ballroom would be.
After several turns, I stepped through double doors into the most opulent room I had ever seen. The floor was intricately patterned, and the wallpaper had a metallic sheen to it. The ceiling looked to be made of gold. Or perhaps it was only gold plated. It was overwhelming. When I’d gone to Mount Vernon with Emily last year and toured President George Washington’s house, there hadn’t been a room so grand and large there, and he was the first president of our country.
The first person I saw upon entering the room was Matthew. He was in uniform and stood along the wall. He looked very handsome. Even though he was clearly at the ball in his capacity as a police officer, I could tell that he had taken care to brush and mend his uniform before arriving. That made me smile.
He was scanning the crowd, looking for something. A killer maybe? That was what Emily and I were in search of.
I was afraid to walk further into the room. If I did, Matthew would notice me, and I wasn’t sure I was prepared for that. I didn’t want him to see me in this place and compare me to all these beautiful ladies in ball gowns, jewels, and flowers in their hair when I was in my Sunday dress with an added ribbon.
My face reddened as I thought on it more.
“Miss, please go in,” a gruff male voice behind me said.
I turned to find an old man in an army officer’s uniform trying to get into the room. I blocked the door and therefore his path.
His harsh tone attracted Matthew’s attention. Matthew turned in our direction just as I moved out of the man’s way.
Matthew walked over to me and tucked his hand under my elbow. “Step over here, Willa, before you get trampled.”
I did as he asked and leaned against the wall with my hands folded in front of me. I didn’t know the last time I felt this terribly out of place, and that included my trip to Washington with the Dickinsons the year before.
Matthew quietly stood next to me. He seemed to sense that I needed a moment to collect myself. I clenched and unclenched my hands.
Finally, he spoke. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I could say the same for you.”
He smiled down at me. “Yes, balls are not my typical rounds. As you know, Ruben Thayer is a good friend of Detective Durben. The detective assigned me to come and keep an eye on things.”
“Because of the auction?” I guessed.
He nodded. “There are a lot of jewels in the library. You will have to take a peek before you leave. I have never seen so many shiny pieces.”
“I’m sure that I have never seen anything like it.” I watched as more guests entered the ballroom. It seemed that each one was more finely dressed than the last. The ladies wore a dozen petticoats under their skirts to make their dresses as full as possible and their waists appear to be no thicker than a man’s arm. The colors were rose pinks, peacock blues, and emerald greens. They wore their hair up or falling into ringlets on one side. I felt like a fool.
Matthew leaned down. “You look beautiful tonight.”
I looked up at him, half expecting to see some teasing in his eyes. How could he seriously believe that when there was all this finery around us?
His eyes were serious. “You are the most beautiful woman in the room.”
I wanted to argue with him because I was never the most beautiful woman in the room. I was too broad in the shoulders, too tall in height, and too plain in face, but looking at Matthew in that moment, I believed him. His expression was so sincere, and I could have easily said to him that he was the most handsome man in the room if my tongue had not become lodged in the back of my throat.
When I didn’t say anything, he took pity on me by asking, “Why are you here?”
“Emily,” I croaked.
He chuckled. “It seems to me Emily is always the answer.”
“She just might be,” I said and looked around the room. “She is in here somewhere. She and the family came in before I did.”
“Why did Miss Dickinson want to bring you here?” he asked, and studied my face.
“She is not comfortable at these grand types of events. She grows nervous and unsure. I am here to help her.” This was partially true. However, the murder was Emily’s main reason. If it weren’t for the murder, I had little doubt that she and I would both be back at the homestead right now. The puzzle of solving the crime was a great motivator for Emily.
He arched his brow. “Because Carlo the dog can’t be here?”
I lifted my chin up just a hair. “Well, you can’t imagine Carlo in this ballroom, can you?”
He grinned. “No, but it would have been worth coming just to see that. I’m sure that he would have been the talk of the party.”
Despite myself, I smiled. “He would,” I said.
“But even with Carlo absent, it’s worth being here just to see you and talk to you. I have missed our talks, Willa.”
I could feel him looking at me, and I couldn’t bring myself to look up at him. Instead I stared down at my hands. They had to be the only ladies’ hands in the room without gloves covering them, and instead, the palms were calloused from washing, the fingernails chipped from gardening, and the skin freckled from the sun.
“Willa, I do want to talk about our future.”
My breath caught in my throat, and I finally made eye contact with him. I realized that I wanted to talk about our future too.
Someone grabbed my hand.
“Willa, what took you so long to get in here? Did you forget we have a murder to solve?” Emily hissed. She waved at Matthew. “Hello, Matthew! Keep an eye out!”
Behind me, Matthew groaned.
Chapter Thirty-Five
She pulled me across the room behind a partition where it turned out the food was located, and I stared at the spread. I had never seen so much food in my life. There were lobster puffs, figs, caviar, shrimp tails, and more. There was every kind of delicacy a person could want and many that I had never seen before but was more than willing to try. Even with all the people here, I could not believe all this food would be eaten tonight. My stomach growled, as I had missed out on my simple dinner with Margaret to prepare for the ball.
“What is our plan?” Emily asked.
I blinked at her. “Were you expecting for me to have a plan? It was your idea that I come here in the first place.”
“You have many good ideas, Willa. Surely, you have thought about how we should proceed.”
I bit my lip. “I—I think we should find out from Mrs. Thayer if she knows about her husband’s business, and if she knows of the connection between Luther Howard and her husband. If she doesn’t know, do you plan to tell her what Horace shared with us?”
“Yes, I do,” Emily said with feeling. “Too often women are kept in the dark about their husbands’ behavior. Cate Lynn is my friend. I would not wish that on her or anyone I cared about. She should know.” She paused. “But it might be difficult to get her alone. She is the hostess.”
I looked around the room. An eight-man orchestra sat in one corner. They played softly as the guests arrived. They all wore matching black suits and white shirts and appeared to be quite young. I supposed since Mr. Thayer worked at the college they were music students that the professor could hire at a discount or convince to play for free. Even so, they were quite talented, and several of the ladies in their wide hoop dresses swayed to the music.
“Maybe we should pursue this tomorrow after the ball,” I said.
“No, it must be tonight,” Emily said. “Ruben can’t deny what he has done in front of all these people. He needs to be held accountable.”
“Yes,” I said. “But we don’t know he killed Mr. Howard.”
“We don’t know yet. I will find out,” Emily said.
I didn’t like the sound of that.
“I will speak to Cate Lynn as soon as I can get her alone,” Emily said. “There has to be at least one moment throughout the night when she will want to leave to catch her breath. When she does, I will tell her what we know.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Do what you do best, Willa. Watch everyone.” She peeked around the partition. “There’s Isadora. Since she has been staying with the Thayers this last week, she is the most likely to know anything at all. Good luck!” She hurried away.
I stood on the side of the partition and looked around it. Ladies and gentlemen moved about the room. The orchestra was beginning to play more loudly. Everything was perfect and looked perfect. I had never felt so out of my element in my life.
“Can you offer these to the guests?” a footman asked me, holding out a tray of wine in short glasses.
“I don’t—”
“Just take it,” he said, and forced the tray into my hand. I had to accept it to keep the glasses from spilling. He gave me a nudge, and I found myself on the other side of the partition.
“Oh, thank you,” a gentleman said, taking two of the glasses from the tray before walking away.
I started to relax. With the tray in my hand, I was far more comfortable in my usual role as servant. I scanned the room for Isadora, but didn’t see her. In fact, I hadn’t seen Isadora at all.
The dancing began, and I watched as young men approached young women and asked them to waltz. A handsome young man stepped up to Emily and held out his hand, but she walked by as if she didn’t even see him. Knowing my mistress, she might not have.
Miss Lavinia stood in one corner of the room as if trying to blend in with the drapery behind her. Austin and Miss Susan joined the other young couples on the dance floor. Since the younger Mr. and Mrs. Dickinson were there, I assumed Mr. Emerson had also made his appearance. I soon spotted him on the other side of the room speaking to none other than Isadora. Carrying the tray with me, and stopping every so often as a guest took a glass, I made my way across the room.
“I do appreciate that you trusted me to read your work. Cate Lynn Thayer is a good friend of my family’s, and her parents were such wonderful people,” Mr. Emerson said.
“Cate Lynn speaks highly of you as well,” Isadora replied. “She is passionate about the abolitionist cause. As passionate as her parents were. God rest their souls.”
“It is good to see she married a man who supports it too,” Mr. Emerson said.
“Yes,” Isadora murmured. She cleared her throat. “I hate to corner you at the ball like this, but I know you are leaving shortly after. Did you have a chance to read my pages?”
“I did. They were very concise and well written. I can see a clear grasp of the English language there.” His tone was measured.
Isadora smiled. “Thank you. I was hoping you would say something positive.”
“But,” he began.
Isadora’s face fell.
“They are familiar to me. What you have written sounds very similar to the pages written by my late secretary, Luther Howard. He asked me to write a foreword for a book he was working on, and it felt as if I was reading the same words.” He studied her face.
Isadora flushed.
“I cannot pass your work onto my publisher if I am not certain you are truly the author. I do know that Mr. Howard could at times borrow or be influenced by others’ work.” He cleared his throat. “But since, in this case, I don’t know who wrote what and can’t ask Mr. Howard to clear it up for us, I cannot endorse your work. It would be best if neither version was published. If you truly wrote this, you have talent, so you should be able to come up with something new that can be published. However, you must understand after what happened to Mr. Howard that I can’t be involved in any of this.”
Isadora balled her fists at her sides. “Those are my words; that is my manuscript. He promised me that he would show it to you, but he never did. Now you are telling me that he stole it and passed it off as his own?”
Mr. Emerson held up his hands. “Please, Miss Foote, do not raise your voice. Luther did a great many things that upset a great many people. I wish that I had seen it sooner. If I had, I never would have brought him on the trip to begin with. That was my mistake.”
I didn’t know that Isadora was even listening to him at that point. She gripped her reticule so tightly I hoped that it was empty, because surely whatever was inside would be crushed.
“I’m sorry.” He paused. “When you write your next piece, you might have better luck using a man’s name. That’s my advice to give you the best chance of being published,” Mr. Emerson said, and stepped away.
Isadora stood on the edge of the ballroom with her hand clenched around her reticule. She then spun on her heel and left the room.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Miss, miss,” a young man in a shiny frock coat and purple waistcoat called out to me. “May I have some wine?”
“What?” I asked, and then I remembered that I had the tray of wine the Thayers’ servant had handed me. “Oh, oh, yes, of course.”
He gave me a strange look and took two glasses from my tray as if he was afraid if he asked a second time that I would say no.
I walked around the ballroom and offered glasses of wine to guests. All the while, I thought about the conversation that I had overhead between Mr. Emerson and Isadora, and my mind was whirling. She said that Mr. Howard had promised to share her work with Mr. Emerson. That meant that the two of them had to know each other somehow, but at luncheon on the first day of the symposium, Isadora and Mr. Howard acted like they were meeting for the very first time. Why would they behave in such a way?
“Have you spoken to Isadora yet?” Emily asked.
I jumped and almost dropped the tray of glasses. Thankfully, there were only two left; I was able to catch them before they toppled over. “Emily, you gave me a fright. I didn’t know you were there.”
“I’m sorry.” She cocked her head. “What are you doing with that tray? Do you work for Cate Lynn and Ruben now?”
“I—I was just helping out. A waiter needed help,” I muttered.
She shook her head and took the tray from my hands. She set it on a nearby windowsill. “Is it possible for you to not be a servant just for one second?”
“Apparently not,” I said. “And in my defense, it was a very good cover. I look much more convincing as a servant than a guest, even in my best dress.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Emily said. “I have news. I spoke with Cate Lynn, and I am certain she doesn’t know what her husband is up to. She believes he is just as strong an abolitionist as she is.”
“Did you tell her?” I pulled nervously at the black cuffs of my dress.
“I started to, but we were interrupted by another guest.” Her brow furrowed in irritation. “She needs to know. I hate to be the one to tell her, but it appears that I am the only one brave enough to do it,” she said.
“What is her connection to Mr. Howard? Did you find that out?” I asked.
“She doesn’t have one.” Emily leaned toward me. “But this is where it gets interesting. Mr. Howard and Isadora Foote were connected in Boston. There were even rumors they might marry, but Isadora always claimed that wasn’t true. Cate Lynn has been worried about her since Luther’s death.”
“Because she thinks Isadora will mourn him?” I asked, thinking this all fit with the conversation I had just overheard between Isadora and Mr. Emerson.
The orchestra picked up the tempo and played a faster song. The dancers in the middle of the room held hands in a large circle and skipped to the right and then to the left. Then, as one, they all broke off into partners and twirled. The women’s wide skirts flared out, and laughter filled the room. It was so loud that Emily and I could no longer hear each other and had to wait until the noise died down enough to continue the conversation.
Miss Susan and Austin were among the dancers, and they were laughing and spinning together. Miss Susan’s eyes sparkled, and Austin beamed at his young bride. Next to me, Emily was very still, and she had her eyes trained on them.
When the music stopped, Miss Susan and Austin left the dance floor before the next song began. Emily clenched her fists at her sides.
“Emily, what else did Cate Lynn say about Isadora and Mr. Howard?”
She was still staring at her brother and sister-in-law.
“Emily?” I asked in a low voice.
She looked at me, but it was like she was seeing through me.
“Are you all right?”
My question seemed to bring her back to the present. “Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”
I didn’t know the answer to that.
“What is it that you asked?” Emily wanted to know.
I tugged on my dress sleeve again. “What else Mrs. Thayer said about Isadora and Mr. Howard.”
“Nothing. We were interrupted.”
I told her my impression that Isadora and Mr. Howard acted like they didn’t know each other at the luncheon.
