City of God (56 page)

“Clearly you and Zachary have been talking. But I fail to see what any of that has to do with this sudden desire to go into town on a Sunday, much less an onset of religious fervor.”

“It’s not about religion, Mama. I admit I was fibbing.” Ceci turned to her mother and dropped the pretense of nonchalance. “Mei Lin is so brave. Uncle Nick says she drove a carriage downtown by herself in spite of dreadful injuries, and that she ran on a fractured ankle when it must have caused her excruciating pain. I want to be brave as well.”

“By doing what?”

“Delivering a note. To a man I shall meet in church. He doesn’t know where Mei Lin is, so she’s written to tell him.”

Carolina paled. “Ceci, that’s not brave, it is foolhardy. Surely since you have intruded this far into the business of our guests, you know that Linda’s…that Mei Lin’s husband is involved in criminal activities. If in addition she has a lover—”

“Mama! He’s not her lover, and it is wicked to say so. They are friends and have been so since before Mei Lin married. Sometimes they meet to talk. Nothing more. I do not believe for one moment that Mei Lin would be involved in anything sordid or dishonorable or that—”

She broke off. The two women stared at each other.

“Sordid and dishonorable,” Carolina said softly. “That is your view of a woman taking a lover. Whatever the circumstances?”

“I’m not talking about you and Uncle Nick, Mama. I never thought that. I still don’t. But Mei Lin—”

“People do all sorts of things, Ceci, for all sorts of reasons. And I think it is time there was a great deal more honesty in this house, at least about some of them. Now please give me Mei Lin’s note.”

“I can’t, Mama. I promised to take it to Mr. Heinz. That is—”

“I am astounded that Mei Lin would charge you with such a dangerous errand. I must say I think a good deal less of her now.”

Ceci flushed bright red. “I can’t permit you to think ill of her, Mama. That’s not what Mei Lin asked me to do.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Mei Lin said I was to give the note to one of the Irishmen. I was to explain about how to find Mr. Heinz, and ask one of the Dead Rabbits to perform the errand.”

“But you thought it would be exciting to do it yourself.”

Ceci, still red with shame, nodded.

“My dear child, it is past time for you to be married. Being a wife will surely screw your head on more firmly. Now give me that note.”

Ceci took a folded paper from inside her fur muff. It was not sealed, but Carolina made no attempt to read it. “Thank you. Now tell me, please, how whoever delivers this is to recognize the gentleman for whom it’s intended.”

“Mei Lin says he’s not too tall, and that he has fair hair and blue eyes and a round face. And after the Mass he will be waiting for her in a pew in the rear. That’s how they saw each other again a year ago. After years and years. Isn’t it romantic? Mr. Heinz happened to be at Mass in a church called St. John the Baptist when Mei Lin was there.”

“I am delighted Mr. Heinz is to be found in a Catholic church, my dear. It will make it easier for one of these Irish…these Irish gentlemen to do this errand.” Carolina headed to the door and the posted guard of Dead Rabbits.

“She was going to drive into town and deliver a note for Linda—for Mei Lin. To a man I presume to be her lover, whether in actuality or only in their dreams. I do not think, Nick, that Ceci had the least notion of how extremely dangerous it would be. Or how vulnerable she would be once she left this property.”

Nick ran a hand through his hair. “You’re absolutely right. We must put an end to this situation at once. I wanted another week’s rest for my patient, but that’s a counsel of perfection. Can you get word to Zac to send a ship upriver tonight?”

“I could, but that’s not the wisest course, dearest. We believe Mr. Chambers knows his wife and mother-in-law to be here. Why else would we need protection from a gang of Irish toughs? Once they’re gone and Linda and her mother are gone, what is to prevent Mr. Chambers from taking out his anger on you or me or the children?”

“Dear God, you’re right, Carolina, I didn’t think it through. I’m an idiot and I’ve put you all in the most appalling danger.”

“You are not an idiot, my love. Practical things such as this are not, as they say, your line of country. But they are mine, Nick. And I have an idea.”

“Tell me.”

“I shall, but you will not find it pleasant to hear. So sit down and promise not to say anything until I’ve finished.”

Nick did as she asked. Carolina sat beside him and took both her hands in his. “Some years ago,” she began, “in December of 1851, a few months before we were married, Bella Klein came to see me.”

Nick was silent for some time when she finished speaking. It was, Carolina knew, the worst possible reaction. “I never meant to deceive you, darling, I just—”

“I’m sorry, Carolina. That’s not true.” He had long since withdrawn his hands from hers. Now he got up and began pacing. “You did indeed mean to deceive me. To hear you tell it, you went to great pains to do so.”

She caught her breath. He was using a tone of voice she’d never before heard, certainly not directed at her. “Nick, I did what I thought was right. I didn’t think—”

“Precisely. You did not think. You are my wife. And you were that when Bella came and the pair of you cooked up this scheme. That we’d not yet had benefit of clergy doesn’t come into it, and I know you agree.”

“Of course I do.”

“You are also the mother of my children and of two others whom I care for just as deeply as if they were my own. Moreover, you are far
too intelligent not to have known exactly what you were doing and everything you were putting at risk, for them as well as for you and me. Yet you chose to engage in this behavior behind my back.”

“Slavery is an enormous evil, Nick. I know you believe that as much as I do.”

“Precisely! Why then did you not think it necessary, indeed desirable, to discuss this matter with me before you plunged headlong into it?”

“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “At the time it simply seemed best. You are not a practical person, my darling. You have always said so yourself. You’re a scientist, a man of ideas. And this is the most practical and down to earth work imaginable.”

She wanted to say more. To speak of the amount of coordination of schedules and ruses and journeys involved. To describe the clambering and climbing, the swinging of signal lanterns from her turret above the house or from the shore at the bottom of the cliff. What she wanted most to explain was that having once set out on a course of keeping this business from him, she could not find the courage to tell him later.

“I will tell you the real reason for your subterfuge,” he said. “It is all to do with your insistence on the rights of women. I have never seriously opposed you, Carolina. I may not agree entirely with your ideas, but neither do I entirely dismiss them. But to go behind my back in a matter so serious, that can only be because you placed your loyalty to these ideas of women’s independence above your loyalty to me.”

“China dolls,” she whispered.

“What?”

“That’s what Bella said the first day she came here. ‘We are not china dolls with painted smiles.’”

“I take it then that Bella shares your opinions. I wouldn’t have thought so, but apparently I can be deeply mistaken about my own wife, why not Ben’s?” Then, the idea having only at that moment occurred to him, “He doesn’t know either, I suppose.”

She was too miserable to find any way to soften the blow. “Yes, he does. Dr. Klein has been involved from the beginning.”

“My God. I’ve really been Billy’s jackass, haven’t I? The last to know
and the least likely to have an opinion worth considering.” He had been standing beside the fire, now he started for the door.

“Nick! Please. You mustn’t leave like this. We’ve never left a quarrel to fester.”

“This is not an ordinary quarrel, Carolina. I really don’t want to speak further to you just now.”

“But you must,” she said, some anger of her own rising to stiffen her backbone. “I only told you all this because we have to get the two women you brought here out of the house. And do so in a manner that will not leave our family in a still more dangerous position. I don’t imagine you think we can have Irish ruffians with brass knuckles and broken bottles guarding us for the rest of our lives.”

Nick stopped at the door to the room. “No, I don’t think that.”

“Nor do I. What we need to do is send the women off to Pennsylvania and at the same time pull the claws of Kurt Chambers.”

He did not for a moment doubt that she was correct. He simply had no notion of how such a thing could be done. “You have a plan, I suppose?”

“Yes, I do. I’ve been thinking about it for some time, but I need to discuss it with you. So will you come back and sit down and talk to me?”

Nick turned around and sat by the fire with his wife.

Carolina was forty-four years old, past her age of charm she often said, but she had never looked more stunning. She wore a plum-colored velvet frock, the skirt held wide with a hoop, so her waist looked particularly slender. Her matching short tightly-fitted jacket was trimmed with black fox fur, and she carried a black fox muff. Her hat—wide-brimmed to balance the silhouette of her skirt—was the same rich purple color, and the long black ostrich feathers that dipped low on one side framed her still lovely face.

Black ostrich feathers adorned as well the heads of the four black horses that pulled her brougham. The bells on their harnesses jingled
softly as they trotted up to the Devrey docks on South Street facing the inner harbor. The waterfront, deserted at this hour, was bathed in icy December moonlight. Carolina’s driver, dressed in black livery with plum-colored trim, reined in, then jumped down from his high front perch to help her get out. “Sure and it’s all looking fine,” he said softly, leaning into the carriage’s interior as he opened the door. “Don’t be after fretting none.”

He gave Carolina his hand as she stepped out, and she caught a glimpse of shiny metal across his knuckles. “Thank you. Wait for me here, please.” She pitched her voice at the outline of a man waiting a short distance away in the shadows. “We shan’t be long, shall we, Mr. Chambers?”

“No, Mrs. Turner. Not long.” Chambers strode forward, touching the brim of his topper.

Carolina waited where she was. Chambers came close enough to peer inside the carriage, which she knew was what he wanted to do. “I am alone except for my driver, Mr. Chambers. Exactly as promised.”

“I never doubted your word,” he said. “And as you can see, I too am alone.” He gestured at the expanse of empty wharves on either side. Behind them, riding at anchor at the dock, was a small steamship, the six
A.M
. Devrey packet for Providence and Boston, according to the notice board. Deserted at this hour.

“Shall we go inside?” Carolina said. “It’s bitter out here.” The area was shoveled clean each morning, but there had been snow squalls during the day, and the path between the waterfront and the Devrey warehouse was crusted with frozen snow. Carolina took his arm.

“I’d have thought your offices on Canal Street to be a better venue,” he said. “Or perhaps even your home.”

“But this is so much more private, Mr. Chambers. That seems best under the circumstances. My husband…”

“Ah, yes. Dr. Turner no longer approves of me, you said.”

“I do think it best if people stay entirely out of the business of other people’s marriages, Mr. Chambers. But as I said, my husband—”

There was a noise behind them, and Chambers stopped walking. He
turned around so quickly that Carolina was almost jerked off her feet. She cocked her head so that the wide brim of her hat and its ostrich feathers impeded his vision.

There was nothing to see but the driver of her four-in-hand, still standing beside the brougham. One of the horses pawed the ground, its breath making a visible trail in the cold air.

It was only a few more feet to the door of the warehouse, and they covered it quickly. Carolina could feel the chill of the snowy path through the soles of her leather boots. Her hand did not tremble when she took the key from her muff and unlocked the door. “No gaslights in the warehouses I’m afraid, Mr. Chambers, but there’s bound to be a lantern at the ready just here beside the door.” She reached up and located one. “Can you light it do you think?”

“Of course. Chambers pulled a small box of matches from his pocket.

There was a window in the warehouse door. Carolina positioned herself to the side of it while Chambers went about the business of lighting the lantern.

Outside, Liam still stood at attention, waiting on his mistress as a good chauffeur should. Another of the horses neighed, a soft, slightly impatient sound. Picked up every bit of tension in the air, horses did. Liam McCarthy learned that driving a cab in Galway City. Would have done the same over here if he’d been allowed, but the Italians had the carriage trade sewn up so tight an Irishman couldn’t get a look in, not even with brass knuckles. The waterfront, that’s where the Irish ruled. “Steady lads,” he murmured. “Won’t be long now.” Even if he had been overheard, it would simply have sounded as if he was calming the horses.