6. Percival

6

Percival

A s promised, after church Sunday morning, Mother, Clara, and I arrived at Stella's apartment in time for luncheon. The delight on both Clara's and Stella's faces made my eyes sting. They ran to each other, with Stella falling to her knees to enfold my daughter in her arms.

"I've missed you so," Stella said.

"You were gone too long," Clara said before leaning in to whisper something in Stella's ear I could not hear.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Stella said softly, stroking Clara's cheek.

Soon, we were gathered around the dining room table for a first course of split pea soup with bits of ham.

"This is marvelous," Mother said. "Mrs. Landry learned from the best, so I'm not surprised."

We all took another scoop of the warm soup.

"Tell me what you've been doing with yourself since I last saw you," Stella asked Clara.

Clara happily rambled on for a good five minutes about school and her friends and how much she wanted a pony. Stella never took her eyes off my daughter, which warmed my heart. However, my thoughts drifted this way and that, from Mary to Stella's father to the thugs who'd beaten me up.

I was pulled from my myriad of thoughts when Mother, during a moment when Clara caught her breath, asked me a question about little Maria Rossi. "Is she better?"

I'd gone by to see her before church that morning. "Yes, she's much better." I'd been delighted to see Maria sitting up in bed, with good color in her cheeks. "She'll be back to her usual self in a few days."

"Thank the good Lord," Mother said.

"Who is Maria?" Stella asked.

I explained that she was one of my patients who had been very sick but was now on the mend. "Mrs. Rossi is a widow with too many mouths to feed," I said. "I don't know what their future holds."

This quieted the women around the table. All three of them looked down at their empty soup bowls and let out remarkably similar sighs. They were like three perfect peas sharing the same pod.

The next course arrived, and we went back to eating and chatting about nothing of consequence. That is until Clara said something that made my blood run cold.

"There was a scary man outside of our house today when Grandmama and I went to the park. He followed us all the way there."

"Clara, are you certain?" Mother asked sharply.

"I think so." Clara's voice wavered, obviously frightened by my mother's tone.

"Why didn't you tell me at the time?" Mother asked.

"I don't know. I forgot." Tears glistened in Clara's eyes. "Am I in trouble?"

"No, not in trouble," I said. "But if it ever happens again, please tell one of us."

"All right." Clara nodded solemnly.

I looked across the table at Stella. She'd set aside her fork and was staring down at the plate in front of her.

"Stella?" I asked.

Her chin lifted, and she met my gaze with frightened eyes. I knew without her saying the words that she blamed her father.

"You mustn't go out without an escort," Stella said. "From now on."

"I agree, Mother. You'll take one of the male staff from here on out."

Mother nodded, her lips pursed.

"Do you know what the man looked like?" Stella asked Clara.

"Not his face. His hat was pulled way down, and he had a scarf over his mouth." Clara closed her eyes as if to see him again in her mind. "And he was tall and wide. Bigger than you, Papa."

That didn't give us much to go on, but it didn't really matter. Other than my daughter, we all knew the probable origin of the man who'd followed her. He could be one of the thugs that beat me up or another of Sullivan's men. Regardless, I had no doubt Sullivan had sent whoever he was to spy on my mother and Clara. Had he still been gathering information at that point? He appeared to know everything about us—our routines and habits, including where we lived. None of us were safe. If he wanted us gone, we would be.

"Papa?" Clara asked in a frightened voice. "What's wrong? Is it the same man who hurt you?"

"I don't know." I forced myself to smile. "But it's nothing for you to worry about. Your papa will take care of everything."

If only I could say that with complete confidence. Sean Sullivan was rich, powerful, and ruthless, which made him very dangerous. All of the people I loved were vulnerable.

However, I had to think positively. Simon would be gone soon. All the trouble he'd brought from his inquiries would soon fade. They had to.

By the time the last day of the year arrived, we'd all earned an evening of relaxation and fun. Stella gave Mrs. Landry and Penelope the night off and agreed to stay at our apartment overnight. I'd have liked to take her and Mother out somewhere, but knew that it would only create curiosity and gossip about our relationship. Instead, Mother asked our cook to make a ham and several other decadent dishes. Stella had asked if Clara could stay up a little later than usual so she could dine with us, and I'd agreed. Our nanny had frowned when I gave her the evening to do as she pleased as if I were trying to pull something over on her.

While I dressed, I sent Joseph to fetch Stella from her place, instructing him to stay alert to any dangers or suspicious activity. They returned without mishap.

I greeted Stella when she came in, looking ravishing in a wine-colored dress that clung to her slender figure. We all gathered in the drawing room for a drink before supper.

"I've been taking piano lessons," Clara said to Stella.

My daughter was dressed for the evening in a blue velvet frock and patent leather shoes. Her dark tresses had been curled and pinned back on the sides. Thrilled to be joining the adults, she sparkled with excitement.

"Do you enjoy them?" Stella asked Clara while taking the glass of sherry I offered.

Clara crinkled her nose. "I don't like to practice all the time, but I do every day because I'm forced to. But I like it a little. Would you like me to play for you?"

"I'd be honored," Stella said, settling into a chair near the fire.

Clara went to the piano in the corner of the room and made a big show of preparing, flexing her fingers and closing her eyes as if waiting for the muse to enter her body. Her hands hovered dramatically over the keys, then she began. She played a few simple tunes that were honestly difficult to recognize. Still, we all clapped politely when she'd finished.

Clara stood from the piano bench and presented us with a deep vow. She might be more suited for the stage than playing an instrument.

"When did you start taking lessons?" Stella asked politely.

"I'm not sure." Clara looked at Mother. "It feels as if it's been forever and a day."

"She started a few months ago." Mother raised both brows. "Definitely not forever and a day."

Robert entered the room, a concerned expression displayed on his usually placid expression. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but there's a phone call for Dr. Bancroft. It's Mrs. Mason from the asylum."

"Mrs. Mason?" It could only be bad news if Mrs. Mason was calling on New Year's Eve. She ran the asylum and called only if absolutely necessary. I exchanged a quick glance with Mother before following Robert into my study.

I picked up the receiver, held it to my ear, and leaned closer to the earpiece. "Hello, this is Dr. Bancroft."

"Doctor, it's Mrs. Mason."

I braced myself. "Yes, how can I help you?"

"I'm sorry to call on a holiday, but I'm afraid this couldn't wait. Your wife's escaped, and we cannot find her on the grounds or anywhere inside the building."

My legs felt as if they might collapse under me. "Did you say escaped?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, Dr. Bancroft."

"How is that possible?" From what I could tell, the place had impenetrable security, both to get in and out.

"We're not certain. Her brother, Simon Price, was here this afternoon. He sat with her in the sunroom for over an hour. After he left, Mary was escorted back to her room for a rest before supper. When one of our attendants stopped in to escort her to the dining hall, she was not in her room. We then did a wide and thorough search and came up empty."

"She couldn't have gotten off the property without help," I said. "Isn't that right?"

"We're unsure, to be perfectly frank. We've questioned the staff, and thus far, no one's confessed to aiding her. As you know, we keep a close watch on all our patients. It's rare they're alone, so we're baffled about how this happened."

Had Simon orchestrated this somehow? But why would he want her to escape? He knew how dangerous and volatile she could be.

"What should I do?" I asked.

"There's not much you can do. The local police have been notified. Volunteers have gathered to conduct a search on foot. I'll keep you informed throughout the night."

She put a member of the local police on the line then, who instructed me to stay home tonight in case she somehow found her way back to her former residence. "You'll want to join the search efforts in the morning, I assume?"

"Yes, I will."

"Hopefully, we'll locate her this evening, but we'll be sure to call with any updates."

By the time I set the receiver back into its holder, my entire body trembled with fear and shock. I ventured back to the sitting room, where Mother and Stella were waiting anxiously to hear why Mrs. Mason would be calling on New Year's Eve. Clara had moved to the table where we played games to work on a puzzle we'd gotten her for Christmas. She looked up at me with inquisitive eyes. "Papa, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, love. But I need to speak to your grandmother about something boring and for adults' ears only." I glanced over at Robert, who stood near the entryway to the room. "Robert's going to take you down to wish the staff a happy new year while they're having their supper."

Clara's cheek flexed the way it did when she really wanted to argue but knew better. "Yes, Papa." She trudged over to Robert.

"Miss Clara, I believe Mrs. Wilson's made a chocolate cake for dessert," Robert said. "Would you like to see it?"

"Yes, please." My daughter's mood drastically altered at the thought of chocolate cake.

Once she was safely out of earshot, I returned my attention to the ladies. I sat next to Mother and drew in a deep breath before speaking. "Mary's escaped the asylum."

Both ladies gasped in unison.

"How is that possible?" Mother asked.

"They're not sure," I said. "Simon was there earlier today. Perhaps his visit prompted some kind of strange response in Mary?"

"He wouldn't help her escape, would he?" Mother asked.

"I don't think so. I'm not sure what his reasoning would be if he did."

Stella hadn't moved for several seconds, her eyes wide with shock. How strange it must be for her. She was part of my family and yet not truly. We could pretend for moments in time that she belonged here with me, but not tonight. Mary's presence was felt as keenly as if she were in the room with us.

Where are you? I asked her silently. What have you done?

Dinner was a more somber affair than I'd hoped it would be. Although Mrs. Wilson's meal of roast beef, smashed potatoes slathered in butter, freshly baked rolls, and roasted carrots was impeccable, every bite seemed drier than the last. My stomach churned with nerves and worry, but I kept up a brave face for Clara's sake. Mother and Stella were equally quiet and subdued. Clara, however, didn't seem to sense our moods and she chattered away.

"What was Christmas like when you were a boy?" Clara asked me.

Between Mother and me, we had a lot of memories to share. Happily, this kept the conversation flowing and even distracted me somewhat from thoughts of Mary.

"What about when you were a girl?" Clara asked, directing her attention upon Stella.

"We spent the holidays at our home in the country," Stella said. "It was very cold in the wintertime, and we liked to be outside when we could so that we could skate on our pond. That was our favorite pastime." Her eyes grew wistful. "Even when we were grown, we would skate every afternoon when we were home for school holiday."

"Why does it make you sad to remember?" Clara asked.

"Oh, well…I'm not sad, exactly. It's only that I miss my sister a lot."

"Where is she?" Clara asked.

Stella shot a look in my direction before answering. "She and her husband had to move away."

"How come?" Clara asked.

"Sometimes adults have to make decisions that are hard but for the best," Stella said.

"Like my mother having to go to jail?" Clara asked.

"Not jail, darling," Mother said. "Your mother's sick, remember? She's in an asylum where they help people who have trouble sorting out what's real and what isn't."

Clara blinked but didn't ask anything further. Mother diverted the conversation to our upcoming dessert, which captured Clara's attention nicely.

After our slices of chocolate cake had been devoured, Mother announced it was time for a yawning Clara to go to bed. I expected protests, but she had stayed up several hours past her usual bedtime and was too tired to make a fuss.

"Will you and Stella kiss me good night?" Clara asked as she took my mother's hand.

"Yes, we'll come up in a few minutes," I said.

Once they were gone, I invited Stella to have a drink with me in the sitting room. She agreed with a simple nod of her head.

While Robert poured us each a drink, we sat down in front of the fire. Several new logs had been added, sparking flames that warmed my face.

"Will you be staying up until midnight?" Robert asked as he set our drinks on the table.

"I don't think so," I said. "I'll need to be up early tomorrow morning. Speaking of which, please inform Joseph that I'll need him to take me to the train station at seven. I'm visiting the asylum in the morning."

"Yes sir. Will there be anything else?"

"No, thank you," I said. "Please, you may retire if you wish. I can handle getting myself off to bed."

"Very well, sir."

"What is it?" I asked Stella after he left. "You've barely said a word tonight."

"I'm fine."

"But?" I prompted.

"Do you think my father has something to do with Mary's disappearance?"

I gaped at her for a second or two. The thought had not occurred to me. "Surely not. I mean, what would be his reason for doing so?"

"To scare us?"

"He's done that well enough already, hasn't he?" I asked. "What with having me beaten, you, Mother, and Clara followed? Why would he include Mary in all that? She can't be frightened in the same way we are."

"What if he took her?"

I could see from the panic in her eyes that I could not just simply dismiss her worries. She truly thought it possible. Should I? "Whatever's happened, we'll know soon. If your father had anything to do with this, he will surely bring her back after giving us all a good scare."

"I hope you're right."

"I want you to stay here for the foreseeable future," I said.

"What about Penelope and Mrs. Landry? Do you think they're in danger?"

"No. It's Simon and me he's trying to scare."

"I've done nothing but bring you and your family trouble." Tears glistened in her eyes. "And yet you remain kind and devoted to me. I can't say I understand."

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again. None of this is your fault. Your father's actions are not yours."

Mother appeared in the doorway. Upon inspection, I could see how weary she was. Since Mary's troubles began, life had been hard for me but also for Mother. She'd become a mother to Clara when she should have been enjoying herself as a grandmother. From my understanding, child-rearing was not nearly the same as being a grandparent. She'd already raised me by herself. She should not have to do it again.

"Clara's ready for you two," Mother said before yawning. "And my darlings, I must beg your forgiveness, but I'll retire as well. The day caught up to me."

"Please, rest, Mother. This has been a long day." I got up to give her a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be leaving early tomorrow morning for the train. I'll call when I know anything."

"Thank you." She turned to Stella. "My maid has your room prepared. I'll see you in the morning for a late breakfast? Around nine?"

"Lovely. Thank you."

The three of us climbed the stairs but parted ways so that Stella and I could go to Clara's room. Expecting her to be awake and looking at a picture book, I was surprised to see that she'd fallen asleep while waiting for us.

I kissed her forehead and adjusted the blankets. "Good night, precious one."

Stella peered down at the sleeping form of my daughter. "Isn't she adorable?"

I smiled. "Indeed."

Once we were back in the hallway, I bade her good night. "Please, try to get some sleep. It's been a tiresome evening."

"You as well."

We stood for a moment, looking into each other's eyes, so much unsaid between us, before heading to our rooms. The moment I walked away from her, I missed her. At least I knew she was safe for the time being, anyway.

As I undressed for bed, I thought back on the evening. When Clara was grown, would she recall the last day of 1922? Would she have fond memories? Or would the cloud of her mother's terrible illness ruin the evening as it as it had mine? This was my life. Not a thing I could do to change it. I had promised Mary Price to care for her in sickness and in health. If only I had hope that she would regain her health. At this point, I knew it was very unlikely.

And I'd moved on with things. I'd not meant to, but I could not lie to myself. I wanted Stella. I wanted her tonight and forever. Although the love for Mary remained, she was not the woman I'd married. Or thought I'd married, anyway. Was it so wrong that a lonely man had fallen in love with another when his wife had virtually disappeared?

Regardless, I'd taken vows before God. To break them was a sin. Admitting my feelings to myself filled me with shame, but it seemed I was powerless to resist them.

I went to bed with the sick feeling of guilt, my only companion. Mary was missing, and here I was pining for another woman. Perhaps I was a monster.