Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Elizabeth’s cup was running over. Today was the day they were taking the children to Central Park for a picnic.
With Amanda and Shawn Fitzgerald, Elizabeth had planned a grand day for the orphans in utmost secrecy.
If her mother found out, there’d be hell to pay.
How convenient it was to have mentioned the occasion to her father when she had been helping him with private accounts.
Too busy to respond, he had waved her off.
Opposite her in the Spencer carriage sat Fiona and Zachary, the latter unable to answer the unceasing questions from her daughter from all the sights limited to her confined while in the orphanage.
Joseph O’Connor proved an encyclopedia of the entire city, and demonstrated a most proficient tour guide, explaining all the sights.
“There’s the spire of the Trinity Church.
It is the only thing higher than the bridge tower itself.
” His chest expanded with Caroline’s oohing and aahing, and then pointing out the opposite side of the carriage, he said, “That’s the Western Union Building.
All ten stories of it. I’ve been to the top of all these buildings,” he boasted.
Elizabeth smiled down at her daughter and her nebulous cohort who had moved from the opposing seat and wedged himself on the other side of Caroline.
For some odd reason the two were inseparable.
The boy was a streetwise nine-year-old and had become Caroline’s self-appointed protector.
How could Elizabeth refuse her daughter’s pleas to bring him along in the Spencer carriage?
“How can it be called rush hour when nothing moves? We’ll miss the whole day, unless this snarl of coaches clears,” said Fiona.
“The city will fall to ruin with this stagnating intractable tangle of traffic unless something is done about it,” said Elizabeth, happy with the delay and using it as an excuse to touch her daughter’s long, silky hair.
“Hopefully, Mr. Jay Gould’s ideas about promoting elevated trains and someday having trains underground will save the city,” said Zachary, among the horns honking, snort of horses, rasp of carriage wheels and darting a glance out the window to see if the traffic ahead had cleared.
At the park, the driver opened the door. The children screamed and piled over Elizabeth, brushing past the coachman. “Oh dear. They’re gone before I could teach Caroline the proper descent from a carriage.”
“They’re children, and they are excited. Let them have their day,” said Zachary, swinging to the ground and helping Fiona alight first. He lifted his wide capable palm to Elizabeth. “Shall I help my lady alight?”
Elizabeth held her breath. Her body tingled with awareness.
Ever since the night he’d saved her from Havemeyer, she’d been thinking of her attraction to him.
If only, she sighed, a weakness she had been careful not to indulge in all her life.
Oh, if only…his mouth curved into a warm, friendly, country-boy grin.
Staring at his hand, her fingers shaking, she accepted that which was offered to her.
She placed her hand into his. And she quivered for the calluses on his palm caught her skin as his hand held hers.
Small jolts scraped at her as though every minor edge on his fingertips were wired with sensation.
It was the first time in her life she had ever taken leave of a man without her gloves.
A gentleman always removed his, of course, before he offered his hand–it was a simple oversight for the frontiersman to forget that she herself wasn’t appropriately dressed.
Displaying a playful grin, he teased her. “I hope I won’t be penalized for breaking a rule.”
With her left hand, she raised her skirts and stepped to the ground. He held her hand securely in his, as if he were in no hurry to correct his impropriety.
“Oh, not at all,” Elizabeth said in a faint voice. His hold was warm and extraordinarily pleasant. He gave her another one of those looks—the way he looked at her during the dinner party, as if she held some answer to a question that he needed resolved.
He placed her hand in the crook of his arm, escorting her from the carriage, her silk slippers seeming to float above the soft grass.
A warm glow flowed through her. How a simple gesture made her feel at home, like it should be, meant for time without end.
His arm flexed, so strong it was. Oh, how he met the world with indifference, his boldness allowing him to escape any tragedy. He was honorable for sure.
Her cheeks burned. Had he ever thought of that intimate moment years ago?
He smiled down on her then, perfectly even and white teeth against bronzed skin.
She smiled back, hearing the pump of her heart beating harder. Swallowing hard, she looked up, catching the flash of a scarlet tanager that perched in the high branches of one of the huge cherry trees on the West Side, and then on to the shimmering towers beyond.
Caroline cried out, tripping, and falling to the ground, Elizabeth finally took control of her brain. The impropriety registered, and she let go of his arm and moved toward her daughter. Zachary grabbed her wrist and held her back.
Joseph had dropped to his knees, worry scourging his handsome face. Caroline flipped over on her back, her drawers appallingly showing, and laughing with pure delight. She yanked him down next to her and pointed to the fluffy clouds in the sky.
“My daughter is a rascal.”
“She’s having fun.”
“Oh, Zachary,” Elizabeth said. “I do thank you for taking this initiative. The children can be children, and it gives my heart joy to see my daughter having a good time. I do worry about Joseph’s wayward influence on Caroline.”
Caroline got to her feet and sprinted away. Skipping backward, the little girl said, “Come on, Joseph. Don’t be a pokey turtle.”
Joseph rose and gave chase in the wake of Caroline’s riotous squeals.
“She enjoys his company, and it is easy to see he protects her,” said Zachary.
“That he does.” Elizabeth frowned. “There was a mishap at the orphanage with a male administrator who was dismissed. I never learned what the mishap was about, but upon his departure, the man had two black eyes, his arm hung askew, and he limped from the orphanage. Joseph stood at the top of the orphanage steps, yelling at the man that if he ever came back, he’d break every bone in his body.
Ever since Joseph has been her constant companion. ”
Zachary plucked a piece of grass and stuck it between his teeth. “I think Joseph is more discerning than you think.”
“Joseph is a work in progress for me. I rescued him.” Elizabeth sighed. “He lived in crowded Irish slums known as Hell’s Kitchen until his parents died of smallpox and then spent years on the streets fending for himself. I guess he’s not forgotten the survival skills required in the rookeries.”
“Probably when he climbed to the top of those buildings, he bragged to Caroline about.”
Elizabeth nodded. “He is a bit wild. My first encounter was when I had ducked into a bakery shop with Fiona. The proprietor stood beating a boy for stealing a pastry. Despite Joseph’s eyes swollen shut and blood drooling from his slack jaw, he fought back.
I demanded the baker to release him. The baker possessed the audacity to snarl in my face, and refused, claiming it was the last time the vagabond would steal from him. ”
“What did you do? Hit the baker with your reticule?”
Elizabeth lifted her chin and straightened her spine.
“For the first time in my life, I used my highborn prestige and informed the shop owner to free the boy, or I’d see to it his shop closed.
I slapped the money on the counter for the stolen pastry, and then swept the boy out of the store and into my carriage.
I caught Joseph sticking his tongue out and waving goodbye to the horrid man. What cheek the boy possessed.”
They walked to a wide spreading oak where the Fitzgerald servants were setting up picnic tables with baskets of food to be served later in the day.
“What I find most remarkable is that in the two years Joseph O’Connor has resided at the orphanage, he’s gained much needed weight and has grown equal to the size of a fifteen-year-old.
To my dismay, his impudent character has not changed one bit. ”
Joseph and Caroline paired up for a three-legged race, their side-by-side legs tied together.
Someone yelled go. The boys on each side of Joseph and Caroline tripped them.
Joseph and Caroline sprawled on the grass in a tangle of limbs.
The rest of the children set off, stumbling and falling, and others more athletic steamed ahead.
“Come on, Joseph. You can do it. You can do anything,” said Caroline, yanking him to his feet.
Encouraged by the praise, Joseph picked up Caroline and toted her on his side, her little feet dangling.
He tripped a few of his companions as he passed them, hammered out a fist and knocked the ones to the ground that had tripped them.
The pair of them crossed the finish line to the hoots and consternation of their peers.
“We won. We won,” cried Caroline. “Did you see, Miss Spencer?”
“Yes, I did. A very unique style.” She smiled, not sure of the legitimacy of the victory.
“He’s my kind,” said Zachary. “I admire a man who comes out from behind with a superior strategy.”
“Men. Must they always resolve things with their fists?” She gazed at him with thoughtful curiosity, finding beautiful the hand that rose to wipe the moisture from his brow, and the most amazing cobalt eyes and realized they were staring back at her.
To cover her indiscretion, she blurted, “I-I wondered how it was for you with my father and his friends?” Stupid. She had already asked him that.
He laughed at her in an outright careless laugh. “I’m in the midst of circling buzzards and happy to be alive until they fall on me to pick my bones.”