Chapter 10
For a few horrified seconds, Maggie could only stare in shocked dismay as her former employer gaped back at her, seemingly just as surprised to see Magie as Maggie was to see her.
What on earth, she wondered incredulously, was Mrs. Stein doing all the way over in Chicago? She should be in New York or Newport, enjoying the summer season, Maggie thought with a flutter of panic, far away from this bustling city that was a little too big for its britches. Far away from Maggie.
Mrs. Stein’s mouth snapped shut, her brows drawing together in what Maggie feared was a scowl of intent as she gathered her bright skirts in one hand and started toward her with determined steps.
Maggie yanked her gaze away, her mind a frightened blur, her heart skittering in her chest as she hurried up the stairs, away from her former employer.
It was absurd to think she could evade the woman, and yet in that frightened moment Maggie could not think what else to do.
What if Mrs. Stein called the police? Not only might she be dismissed, but she could be arrested.
The life she’d just started to build for herself would crumble to nothing again, and even worse this time.
Maggie was barely aware of Mrs. Attlebury’s soft exclamation of annoyed surprise as she hurried past the millinery department, down past upholstery and fur, and then yanked open the door to the staff area, expelling a shaky breath as she closed the door behind her and then leaned against it, her eyes clenched tightly shut, her breath still coming in ragged pants.
She was being absurd, she knew. She couldn’t just run away. But what else could she have done? If she had faced down Mrs. Stein, would she have been manhandled out of the store, perhaps even taken to the police? Maggie shuddered at the thought… and yet she could hardly hide in here forever.
She knew Mrs. Stein had to blame her for the fire that had destroyed most of the downstairs of her mansion, one of the most opulent and overblown houses in the whole of New York City.
It was Maggie who had tried to unlock Mr. Stein’s study door, in a desperate attempt to appease the Whyo gang, who had been threatening Danny.
It was Maggie who had distracted Mrs. Stein’s son Theo by kissing him—a memory that could still make her blush with its brazenness.
It was Maggie who had ended up bungling the whole thing, so the Whyos, in retaliation, had set the house on fire, rather than just robbing it.
And it was Maggie who would inevitably be blamed, just as all the New York papers had blamed her, the uppity Bridget who had brought one of the city’s grandest houses to ruin.
Still, she couldn’t stay hiding in here.
She wouldn’t, Maggie decided, run off at the first sign of trouble, the way her father had.
She wanted to be better than that. Stronger.
And it was both better and stronger to face her fate than be seen as a coward as well as a criminal…
no matter what the cost. If Mrs. Stein had her arrested, then so be it. She could at least try to explain.
Taking a deep breath, Maggie straightened her shoulders and turned to open the door, her fingers trembling on the knob.
“Miss O’Halloran, there you are!” Mrs. Attlebury’s face was drawn into stiff lines of displeasure as she hurried toward her. “A customer is asking for you. She says she knew you from New York.”
“Oh, yes?” Maggie’s voice wavered as she tucked a few wayward strands of hair back into the neat bun resting on the nape of her neck, her insides feeling as if they were emptying out, replaced by nothing but blind, blank terror.
“But we will have words, later, Miss O’Halloran, about your conduct this afternoon,” Mrs. Attlebury told her sternly as she raised one bony finger. “Consider this a serious warning.”
“Yes, Mrs. Attlebury.” Maggie nodded stiffly back, barely taking in her supervisor’s words. What did she care about a warning, or even a dismissal, when she might be about to go to jail?
Thrusting her chin out at a determined angle, she marched toward the millinery department, where Mrs. Stein was waiting, a beacon of brightness in her chartreuse ensemble, as if heading to the gallows.
“Mrs. Stein.” Once again, Maggie’s voice wavered audibly as she stood in front of her former employer, not quite daring to look her full in the face. She stared at her bright yellow-green skirt instead, the material so stiff and shiny it hurt her eyes. “What a surprise to see you here in Chicago.”
“And you, as well,” Mrs. Stein replied with the wry humor Maggie remembered so clearly.
She did not sound angry, which made her both hopeful and nervous.
Did Mrs. Stein somehow not know she was the one who had caused the fire?
Even if it hadn’t been her fault, she’d doubted her employers would see things that way, and yet…
Maggie risked a glance upwards and saw Mrs. Stein smiling at her in what seemed like sympathy, although her eyes were narrowed with customary shrewdness. Maggie knew she could not be sure what the other woman thought or felt… or what she would do.
“I…” Maggie shook her head helplessly, having no idea what to say.
Mrs. Stein simply had to know she’d been involved.
Even if Theo hadn’t told her as much, Maggie’s abrupt departure, leaving all her possessions behind, her savings…
it was impossible for Mrs. Stein not to have realized her part in the whole awful debacle.
“Some of your things are in my possession,” Mrs. Stein remarked, filling in the taut silence. Her eyes twinkled with surprising humor, her tone gentle, almost somber. “I imagine you might want them back?”
Maggie felt a blush crawl up her throat. “I’m… sorry,” she whispered. “For everything that happened.” Heat flooded her face, and she wondered if she was foolish to have made such an admission. Mrs. Stein sounded as if she knew Maggie’s part in the dreadful affair, but what if she didn’t?
Mrs. Stein laid a gloved hand on her arm. “My dear, so am I,” she said gently. “And I can see you are still terribly fearful about it. Let me put your mind at rest about the whole matter, and explain a few things as well. Will you take tea with me?”
“Tea?” Maggie blinked, confused. Although she’d always considered Mrs. Stein a kindly employer, she was not expecting this sort of invitation.
Part of her wondered if it was some kind of trick, but everything about the other woman seemed genuine.
“I…” She licked her lips. “That would be welcome,” she replied stiltedly. “I am working now—”
“Ah, but I am a customer,” Mrs. Stein said with a laugh, “and a good one at that. I know for a fact that Field’s gives the lady what she wants. And, in this case, the lady wishes to take tea with you, Miss O’Halloran. Where is your supervisor?”
Mrs. Attlebury’s mouth pursed up like a prune as Mrs. Stein explained her wishes—for the other woman to release Maggie for an hour to take tea with her in Field’s tearoom on the third floor.
“I wish for her to advise me on my millinery purchases for the season,” Mrs. Stein told her.
“I shall buy all my hats at Field’s, on the advice of Miss O’Halloran, and recommend the millinery department to my friends and acquaintances.
” She gave Mrs. Attlebury a knowing look.
“That surely is an offer too great to refuse?”
“Of course, if madam wishes it,” Mrs. Attlebury said stiffly. “By all means.” Her chin quivered as she drew her lips even more tightly together. “I expect you to report back here after you have finished with Mrs. Stein, Miss O’Halloran.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Stein answered for her. And then, to Maggie’s surprise, she tucked her arm through hers. “She shall return within the hour.”
Just a few minutes later, they were settled at a table in the small tearoom that Harry Selfridge had set up only last year, with a waiter hurrying to bring tea and a plate of sandwiches as well as cakes.
“I don’t know what to say,” Maggie confessed on a tremulous laugh. “I was afraid you would be terribly angry with me over… over everything that happened.”
“I was angry,” Mrs. Stein told her frankly. “Furious, in fact. Absolutely enraged. I gave a full description of you to the police, as well as the papers, and I imagine most of New York would be able to recognize you and turn you in for your part in the affair.”
“Oh.” The mortified flush that had only just receded returned in full force, scorching Maggie’s face. Her eyes filled with tears, and she looked down at her plate, trying her utmost to will them back.
“But then I realized,” Mrs. Stein continued gently, “my own husband’s part in the sorry affair. It was his business dealings that had that wretched gang interested in us in the first place. You, my dear, were nothing more than a pawn.”
“But I still caused the fire,” Maggie whispered. She dabbed her eyes with her napkin as discreetly as she could. “I just didn’t know what to do. My brother—”
“Yes, Theo explained it to me all,” Mrs. Stein told her. “How they threatened you. I think he felt badly about it all in the end. He said he was quite harsh with you.”
Maggie shook her head. “It was my fault,” she insisted, and Mrs. Stein sat back in her seat with a laugh.
“You do seem to want to take the blame, don’t you?
” She smiled. “Well, I’m afraid I won’t let you do it.
After my husband’s business dealings were exposed—to me, if not to the whole world, thank goodness, although I suspect more people know about it than he would like—I told the police to drop the investigation.
No one is looking for you anymore, Miss O’Halloran. That I can promise you.”
“Oh, I… I see.” A wary relief flooded through her and, for a second, Maggie thought she might burst into tears, although she wasn’t even sure why. She felt so much relief, as well as regret, the remnants of guilt and the stirrings of hope. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“I’ve left him, you see,” Mrs. Stein told her bluntly.
She fell silent as the waiter poured their tea, while another delivered a plate of cucumber sandwiches.
“Not officially, of course,” she resumed once the waiters had left.
“I won’t have the scandal of a divorce hanging over me at my age.
But I’m spending the summer in Chicago, maybe even the whole year.
I’ve heard the Columbian Exposition is going to be marvelous, once it opens in the spring. Perhaps I’ll stay for that.”
“You’re staying in Chicago?” Maggie did not know what to make of the news. She’d hoped for a fresh start in this city, and yet the ghosts of her past seemed to be chasing her. But judging by Mrs. Stein’s affable expression, maybe that was no bad thing.
“For now,” Mrs. Stein confirmed. “I find this city suits me. Far less uppity airs and snobby madams who want to turn their noses up at me, even if I’m as rich as Croesus.
” She sighed. “Which is exactly the sort of thing they’d lambast me for.
But never mind about all that.” She reached across the table to grasp Maggie’s hand.
“How are you, my dear? You’ve found work here at Field’s?
That’s good enough for now, I suppose, but what about your designs? ”