Chapter 10
“Ah, Maggie.”
Jessamine sat behind her desk, her hands folded in front of her, her expression, Maggie feared, far too flinty.
“You wanted to see me?” Maggie asked, a little breathlessly.
After Evie had woken her, she’d stumbled from bed, rushing to wash her face and tidy her hair before dressing quickly and hurrying downstairs.
She’d checked on Jenny briefly, glad to see the girl was still asleep, before coming to find Miss Jessie in her study, looking decidedly displeased.
“Close the door behind you, please,” Jessamine said briskly, and Maggie obeyed before perching on the chair in front of the desk.
Her mind was racing, trying to ascertain the madam’s mood, as well as what she might possibly want.
What had she done wrong? Was it to do with Jenny?
Maggie felt it had to be, she couldn’t imagine what else she might have done, but she could see from the expression on Jessamine’s face that she was out of favor.
“It has come to my attention,” she told Maggie, her gaze level and her voice cool, “that you have not been paying room and board since your arrival.”
Maggie’s mouth dropped open and she snapped it shut. It had come to her attention? She had offered it. “I… I thought our arrangement was room and board in return for the work I do here, sewing and darning?” she replied, only a little unsteadily. She feared what might be coming next.
“I could charge eight dollars a week for bed and board here,” Miss Jessie replied curtly. “And an hour or two of sewing a day is worth a fraction of that, as you must realize. As I’ve told you before, I’m not a charity. I can’t afford to be.”
Maggie bit her lip to keep from saying something precipitous and almost certainly unhelpful.
She didn’t know what the going rates in San Francisco were, but she doubted a shared room in the attic of a brothel went for eight dollars a week, no matter what Miss Jessie had just said.
Pointing that out, however, she knew, would do her no favors, and right now she needed that room.
She didn’t have the money for any other.
“Are you asking me to pay rent?” she asked at last, glad her voice was as level as Miss Jessie’s.
She met the other woman’s gaze squarely, refusing to be intimidated by her imperious manner.
Jessamine Conant had been generous, Maggie acknowledged, but her generosity, it seemed, had its limits.
Was it because Maggie had guessed about Evie? Could Miss Jessie be that spiteful?
While she’d told herself not to depend on the madam’s generosity, she now feared she would not have that luxury.
“I am willing to offer you a rate of six dollars a week,” Miss Jessie informed her, “in exchange for your mending. And the same goes for your father and brother, which is more than generous, considering how little they do around here.” Her mouth twisted derisively; clearly she no longer harbored a sentimental tenderness for her father, Maggie thought on a silent sigh.
Why the change of heart? Was it because of Evie… or something else?
“And Mr. O’Donaghue?” she asked.
Miss Jessie lifted her chin a notch. “Brendan can continue as he has been, doing odd jobs as I ask him, for he’s made himself very useful. Very useful indeed. I’ve offered him a salary of ten dollars a week, in addition to room and board, and he was glad to accept.”
She smiled, her eyes glinting with an almost malevolent triumph that Maggie had never glimpsed in the other woman before, and her stomach cramped with a hot surge of an emotion she knew was jealousy.
Did Jessamine have romantic designs on Brendan?
Was that why she was kicking Maggie out—her competition?
If she did, it came as no surprise that he’d rejected her last night.
And then he’d accepted a salary here, while knowing Miss Jessie’s ultimatum would force her and her family out on the street?
Maggie swallowed down the acidic tang of bile as she forced back the futile feelings of jealousy and hurt.
She had far more serious matters to worry about, for what on earth was she going to do now?
She couldn’t afford six dollars a week for room and board, and if she was doing several hours of mending every day, she could hardly get a job that would allow her to.
As for her father and brother… were they making any money at all?
Her father surely wasn’t, and she didn’t know the nature of Danny’s doings, never mind what he actually earned.
Eighteen dollars between the three of them…
it was practically criminal, which was surely what Jessamine intended.
For whatever reason she wanted, Maggie knew, for them to leave.
“Is this because of Evie?” she asked quietly. “I won’t tell anyone?—”
“This has nothing to do with Evie,” Jessamine replied shortly, her eyes flashing with ill-disguised ire. “It’s simply a matter of economics. I cannot afford to keep you and your family here out of the goodness of my heart.” Her mouth tightened and her eyes flashed. “I hope you’ll understand.”
Maggie stared at her, knowing there was no real response she could make. She couldn’t expect charity from Miss Jessie, and, in truth, she didn’t even want it. She’d told Brendan their situation wasn’t sustainable, and she’d meant it, except… it seemed his now was.
“Very well,” she finally said with as much dignity as she could muster. “I’ll need to talk to my brother and father. I… I imagine we will have to find other arrangements.” She swallowed hard, hating to ask for favors but knowing she had no choice. “If you could give us a few days…”
“You can have a week,” Miss Jessie replied, unsmiling.
Maggie nodded jerkily, and then, sensing she’d been dismissed, she rose from her seat and walked out of the room, her head held high even as her heart felt as if it were plummeting toward her toes.
Upstairs, she paused by Jenny’s room, forcing away the swirling worries about her future when she saw the girl was awake.
“Jenny.” Maggie came toward her, her hands outstretched. “I’m glad to see you looking better.”
Jenny blinked at her sleepily, her face troubled. “What happened? I’m awful thirsty.”
“Let me get you a drink of water.” Maggie fetched her a glass, and then sat by her bed, guiding her hand to help her take a few sips.
“You’re so kind to me, Miss Maggie.” Jenny’s eyes filled with tears. “I fell, didn’t I? On the stairs…?”
Maggie nodded. She suspected Jenny’s fall had been more intentional than accidental, but there was no need to talk about that now. “We were so worried for you, Jenny,” she said gently.
The girl bit her lip. “And… the baby…?” Her lips trembled as she tried to smile. “I know I was in that way, Miss Maggie. It was as plain as the nose on my face.”
“You lost the baby, Jenny,” Maggie said gently. “A doctor came and… dealt with it.”
Jenny nodded, her head bowed, her shoulders sagging with relief, but then she put her hands up to her face and burst into tears.
“Oh, Jenny. Jenny.” Maggie hugged her clumsily, not wanting to hurt her, her heart aching for the poor child.
“Oh, I know it’s for the best,” Jenny said on a sniff.
“I know that full well. It was… it was what I… Well, never mind.” She wiped her streaming eyes.
“But I know that poor little mite didn’t deserve to die.
It hadn’t done a thing wrong. And I would have loved it, you know, I really would have, the way no one ever loved me, but I…
” She shook her head, dissolving into tears again, while Maggie took her into her arms.
“Oh Jenny,” she murmured. “I’m sorry. So sorry.
But it’s going to be all right now. You’ll recover, and…
” She hesitated, wondering despondently what real hope she could offer the girl.
She’d recover so she could be used again and again, and maybe even fall pregnant once more with an unwanted, fatherless child?
It was all so utterly, unbearably hopeless.
“It’ll be all right,” she said again, knowing how hollow the words were, and suspecting Jenny knew it, too.
“And Miss Jessie?” she asked anxiously. “She’s going to let me stay here and recover? I bet I can get back on my feet in a couple of days?—”
Maggie couldn’t hide her horror at this notion.
“Jenny, that’s simply not possible,” she cried.
“We can ask Dr. Brown, but I should think it will be some weeks, maybe months, before you can…” She hesitated again, hating that they even had to talk about this.
That this was poor Jenny’s only choice. “Get back to work,” she finished on a whisper.
Jenny was already shaking her head. “Miss Jessie won’t allow that,” she stated with decision. “You’ve taken such good care of me, Miss Maggie, and you watch, I’ll be right as rain in a day or two, I swear.”
“Wait until Dr. Brown comes, in three days,” she urged. “You… you wouldn’t want to do anything that would… jeopardize… your future.”
“I’ll be all right,” Jenny insisted stubbornly, but she was already looking pale again, and patting her shoulder, Maggie told her to rest.
“I’ll bring you something to eat in a little while,” she promised. “But for now, Jenny, rest up. You need your strength.”
Although she ached with tiredness, Maggie knew the other girls were starting to stir.
She went into their rooms, one by one, and picked up the discarded clothes as she always did, but her heart felt heavy, every action a burden she couldn’t bear.
She would be glad to leave this place, she realized, if only she could find a way to do it.
“Is Jenny all right?” Emma Mae asked sleepily as she sat up and stretched.
“She will be,” Maggie replied. She couldn’t bear to say—or promise—anything else.
It wasn’t until that evening, when the girls were entertaining and Danny and her da were playing checkers with bottle caps out on the back porch, that Maggie was able to speak to them about their future.
“We can’t afford to stay here any longer, I’m afraid,” she stated as briskly as she could. “Not at eighteen dollars a week for the three of us, at any rate.”
“Eighteen dollars!” Her father’s jaw dropped. “Surely Miss Jessie isn’t asking that much? She always let me sleep here without me paying so much as a penny.”
“Well, things have changed,” Maggie replied rather grimly.
“Aw, now, Mags, what have you done?” Danny demanded. “You’ve gotten on the wrong side of Miss Jessie, sure as sure. I know how you are.”
Maggie couldn’t help but notice her brother had rediscovered his Irish brogue since they’d reunited with their father.
He’d taken on some of their father’s ways, too, she saw—how he lounged back in his chair, his legs spread wide, the jaunty angle of his cap, the easy way he viewed the world, like his own oyster.
He’d had those leanings before, certainly, but their da’s influence hadn’t helped.
That three-piece suit and bowler hat, never mind the attitude to accompany it, Maggie reflected resignedly, had remained unworn since they’d arrived in San Francisco.
Her brother was back to his old tricks, just as she’d feared he would be.
“I didn’t do anything,” she told her brother and father, although she supposed that wasn’t strictly true.
She’d had more time to consider the matter, and she was now quite sure the madam wanted her gone because she knew about her daughter.
She never should have guessed about Evie, although surely she couldn’t be the only who knew, or at least suspected?
If Jessamine Conant had her way, Maggie thought, she would be.
“In any case,” she continued, “we can’t stay here even if Miss Jessie gives us our room and board for free.
We’re not earning anything, and even with such things paid for, we need money for extras, and to save for something else.
And,” she added meaningfully, “it’s not respectable.
Not for the long term, at least.” She couldn’t do anything about the last two months, but she could try for a more decent future, one with possibilities.
“I’ve got money,” Danny replied unexpectedly. He lounged back a little further in his chair, his smile more of a gloat. “I can pay six dollars a week. That’s pocket change, to me, so it is.”
Maggie arched an eyebrow. “Oh, is it?” she asked coolly. “And where’ve you been getting that kind of money, Daniel O’Halloran?”
Her brother’s grin widened. “Never you mind.”
“Danny—”
“Oh, leave your brother alone,” her father cajoled, smiling. “He’s a man now, isn’t he, and you don’t need to trouble yourself with what he gets up to, especially if he’s got the money he needs.”
Maggie stared at them both in weary despair.
They were family, and she loved them, but she could not keep them respectable and honest, not on her own, anyway.
“Well, I can’t afford six dollars a week,” she stated flatly.
“And I don’t suppose you can afford the eighteen dollars for the three of us, Danny?—”
“Eighteen?” He sat back up in his chair, its legs hitting the weathered boards of the porch with a bang. “Not that much, no sir?—”
“So I’ll need somewhere to go, at least,” Maggie explained, trying to sound practical rather than hurt. “And you, too, Da?—”
“Oh, Miss Jessie and I will find a way to work something out,” their father replied comfortably. “We always do. You don’t need to worry about me, Maggie, love.”
Maggie looked between them, shocked and more than a little hurt at how untroubled they seemed by her predicament. “All right, then,” she said levelly. “You two will rub along here, but what am I to do?”
Danny and her father exchanged glances before Danny shrugged. “You do as you see fit, you always do,” he said, while her father reached out and caught her hand.
“Ah now, Maggie, can’t you make up with Miss Jessie?” he pleaded. “If you’d some kind of set-to, well, an apology goes a long way, I find.” He grinned appealingly, revealing a missing incisor, his weathered face so familiar, so beloved… and so aggravating.
Maggie pulled her hand from his. “I don’t think that’s possible,” she said stiffly. “Not on this occasion.” And she had no desire or intention to do so, anyway.
“Then what about Brendan?” her father asked. “He could help out, couldn’t he? He’s got a little money saved, he said, and a soft spot for you, I’m certain of it?—”
“That’s not possible, either.” Maggie turned away to hide the hurt expression on her face.
She’d once ached for her da to protect and provide for her, and now he couldn’t be stirred to offer anything more than a paltry suggestion they both knew wouldn’t serve.
The worst part was, she wasn’t even surprised.
“I’ll find something, don’t you worry,” she muttered as she headed back inside, knowing they had no solutions to offer her… and she had none of her own, either. But somehow, she told herself, she’d find a way. She’d started over before, she could do it again. She would have to.