Chapter 4
Alec helped me from the carriage as people stopped and stared, though I wouldn’t let it bother me.
When he started to follow, I turned and said, “You can wait here.”
“A gentleman never allows a lady to go unescorted.” He smiled, somehow making me forget the filth all around us. “If your family has questions, I want to be there to answer them.”
It wasn’t a good idea—but I could see he wouldn’t change his mind.
We entered the tenement and climbed up the rickety stairs. I was self-conscious of my dress, my shoes, even my hair. I didn’t want to get any of it dirty, for fear of Mrs. Hill’s displeasure.
But mostly, I was conscious of Alec.
Slowly, I opened the door and found Aunt Orla at the table, cutting fabric. Polly was at her station, sewing, and Imogen was sitting at my spot.
All three looked up—and I felt their shock all the way to my toes.
It was rare that Aunt Orla was speechless—but she slowly rose from the table, her mouth hanging open—and said nothing.
“Aunt Orla.” I tried to swallow my nerves. “This is Mr. Alexander Paxton-Hill.”
Alec took off his bowler hat and nodded at Aunt Orla, a lock of his dark hair falling down his forehead. “How do you do?”
She blinked several times but didn’t respond.
“And these are me cousins,” I said quickly, “Polly and Imogen.”
The girls stared, much like Aunt Orla, taking in my gown, my hair, and the man beside me.
“Charlie!” Aunt Orla finally squeaked. “Charlie!” she said again, this time louder.
Uncle Charlie came out of the bedroom in his underclothes, clearly pulled from his sleep.
“What is it, wife?” he demanded.
“Look,” Aunt Orla said, pointing at me. “Look at Keira.”
Uncle Charlie glanced at me, and all traces of sleep disappeared from his face. “Keira,” he said, “what happened?”
I looked at Alec and saw that he was trying to school his features. No doubt he was shocked at what he saw—but he didn’t let it show.
“I met Mr. Paxton-Hill and his aunt, Mrs. Maude Hamilton Hill, last night outside the Metropolitan Opera House. Mrs. Hill offered me a . . .” I didn’t know how to explain—and wasn’t sure I wanted them to know all the details.
“A position,” I finally said. “I’m to move into her home and start immediately.
” I looked down at my gown and touched the fine satin fabric. “She’ll take good care of me.”
Uncle Charlie hadn’t taken his eyes off Alec. He narrowed them now and said, “I think I know what’s goin’ on.”
Alec lifted his chin—just a fraction.
Aunt Orla’s gaze seemed to clear, too, and she looked at me with disdain. “So the duchess found herself a man to keep her in finery. How long has this been goin’ on behind closed doors?”
My cheeks burned with shame. “’Tis not like that.”
“On my honor,” Alec said, taking a step forward, “Miss O’Day is my aunt’s guest and has been treated with nothing but respect.”
I could see that my uncle and aunt would not be persuaded to believe the truth, so I said, “I’ve come for me things.”
“What things?” Aunt Orla asked.
“The locket.”
She lifted an eyebrow, as if unimpressed.
Walking past her, I went into the bedroom, where Patrick was asleep on the pallet, and found the loose board in the floor.
“How do we know you’ll take good care o’ her?” Uncle Charlie said in the next room.
I held my breath and worked faster, embarrassed that Uncle Charlie and Aunt Orla would question Alec.
“Miss O’Day will want for nothing,” Alec said.
“And what happens when you tire of her?” Aunt Orla asked. “She won’t come crying back to us, I can tell you that much.”
“She will never have reason to come back here,” Alec said, his voice filled with conviction, “as long as I have breath in my lungs.”
My heart skipped a beat at his declaration as I reached into the dusty floorboards and pulled out the small box I stored there. I opened it, just to make sure nothing was missing, and found my locket and my money. Just as quickly, I replaced the board and rejoined them.
Alec looked relieved at my arrival.
“I suppose Imogen will have to pick up your slack,” Aunt Orla spat. “I always knew you was good for nothin’.”
Alec stiffened beside me as shame warmed my cheeks. This was the only family I’d ever known. A strange part of me was afraid to leave them—to leave this—because it was all I knew. But the other part never wanted to look back.
“Goodbye,” I said and met Uncle Charlie’s gaze. “And thanks.”
“Get out o’ here,” Aunt Orla said. “You’ve always been an ungrateful child.”
Uncle Charlie’s uncertainty toward Alec turned to sadness as he nodded at me. “Go on with you, Keira. Best that you leave.”
Tears threatened to fall, but I held them in place as I looked from my uncle and aunt to my cousins and then to the piecework on the table.
Alec held the door open for me, but when I saw the tears in Imogen’s eyes, I went to her and gave her a quick kiss, slipping a dollar into her hand. "For something pretty," I whispered, then I turned away from my family and left the apartment.
Neither one of us spoke as we walked down the steps and out to the carriage, guarded by the driver and footmen who looked relieved at our arrival.
Alec helped me inside and climbed in behind me.
We were silent as the carriage pulled away from 36 Mulberry Street.
I couldn’t meet his gaze—afraid of what I might see there.
He was quiet for a long time.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low and gentle. “Did you get what you went for?”
I opened the small box, embarrassed by the paltry amount of money inside, and took out the locket. It was on a delicate gold chain—though I had never tried it on before. I’d only ever held it.
“This belonged to me mam,” I told him.
“May I see it?”
I had never let anyone else hold it—but I found myself handing it over to Alec.
He took it and looked it over with care.
“It’s very beautiful—and looks like solid gold.”
My eyebrows lifted. “Do you think so?”
Nodding, he handed it back to me. “Whoever bought that spent a great deal of money on it.”
I looked at the locket with new eyes. I wasn’t sure what I thought of it before, but I hadn’t considered that it was solid gold. Who had purchased a solid gold locket for my mother?
“What do the initials stand for?” he asked me.
Running my finger over the engraved initials, I said, “I’m not sure. I think N is for Nellie—’twas me mam’s name.”
“And the B?”
I shook my head and shrugged.
“Not your father’s name?”
I finally looked up at Alec. The sun had started to set, and it cast a golden light into the carriage. He was wearing his hat again, causing the curls to peak out from underneath.
I was embarrassed to admit the truth—a truth I had no control over, though it stained me nonetheless. “I don’t know me father’s name.”
He nodded as if he understood. But did he?
I slipped the locket back into the box and held it tight between my hands.
We traveled in silence for a few more minutes as we left the putrid smell of Five Points behind. The only noise was the clip-clopping of the horse’s hooves and the sounds of the city around us.
“Sometimes,” Alec finally said, “God gives us opportunities we don’t see coming.”
I looked up at him, surprised by his talk of God. Outside of church, I rarely heard people speak of Him.
“We might not think we’re up to the task, but I think that’s the point.
” He studied me in the dying light, and I could see that he was speaking from experience.
“When I inherited my uncle’s business a year ago, at the age of twenty-four, I was in over my head and had no idea what I was doing.
My father is a minister—Reverend Jonathan Paxton—I was not raised in a cutthroat, business-minded household.
But I saw the opportunity for what it was—what it is—and I am trying my hardest to make the most of it.
” He leaned forward. “If you are anything like me, you’re afraid you won’t be up to the task, either.
But I think you will be surprised, Keira. ”
I stared at him. “Do you think I have what it takes to attract a duke?”
His blue eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite define. “You have more than enough of what it takes.”
For some reason, my cheeks grew warm, and I had to look away.
If Alexander Paxton-Hill believed I could do this—then I would believe it, too.
The next morning, as I slowly woke up, I was first aware of the comfortable bed I slept in. Then I was aware of someone in the room with me.
Opening my eyes, I found Gallagher laying a fire in the fireplace.
What a strange thing to wake up to—a maid and a fire.
“Good morning, miss,” she said when she noticed I was awake. “I’ve set out a dress for you, but if you don’t like it, I can find another.”
I glanced at the dressing table and saw a pink gown lying next to it on the chaise lounge.
“What about the dress I wore yesterday?”
“There’s no need to wear the same gown two days in a row.” She went to the windows and opened the shutters, allowing in daylight. “Mrs. Hill has ordered breakfast in her room, but first you must dress. I have a bath drawn for you.”
“Another bath? Why?”
She frowned, as if she didn’t understand my question, and my cheeks warmed, remembering that I couldn’t let on that any of this was strange. I would take a bath whenever it was offered.
But first, I had to use steps to climb out of the king’s bed.
Within half an hour, I was bathed and dressed, with my hair twisted into an updo that seemed much too fancy for the likes of me. Though I wouldn’t question Gallagher.
When I was ready, I stepped into Mrs. Hill’s dressing room and was about to knock on her bedroom door when I heard Alec’s serious voice.
“There’s only one reason I’m not putting an end to this,” he said.
“Really, Alec,” Mrs. Hill responded, “as if you could stop me.”
“I could strongly discourage you.”
“So why don’t you?”
“Because of Garfield.”
“That loathsome man,” Mrs. Hill said as silverware clinked against china. “I would prefer you never speak his name in my company. He was the death of Edmund.”