Chapter 3
Sheridan closed the door to her room—her mother’s room—and walked down the hallway toward the grand staircase.
Even after being here for a week, she was still feeling out of place and uncomfortable.
Except for occasional forays into the kitchen to have a cup of tea with Mrs. Gallagher, or to play the baby grand piano in the parlor, she’d been holed up in her room, afraid to run into any customers, especially Wyatt MacLean.
She’d even been taking her meals in her room.
She was hiding, but she couldn’t stay hidden forever. She couldn’t pretend she was somewhere else. This was real, and she’d never learn about her mother by hiding. As Mrs. Gallagher told her, the best way to get to know her mother was to talk to the girls, and it was time she did.
She stopped at the top of the stairs and listened, hearing voices, though not the usual moans and groans she normally heard.
Someone made a bawdy comment downstairs—which made her ears burn—then she heard peals of feminine laughter.
She almost turned around to head back to her room but stopped herself.
A little courage goes a long way, Sheridan! You’re never going to know if you keep hiding.
Fortified with common sense and a little bit of courage, she proceeded down the staircase but stopped midway, surprised to see all the women of the house, including Mrs. Gallagher, enjoying a formal tea in the parlor.
Lily glanced up and smiled. “Sheridan, please, join us.”
She hesitated. While she was beginning to like these women, she didn’t know them well, and she wasn’t particularly good at making friends.
Lily, Barrie, Susannah, Valentine, even Mrs. Gallagher, were warm and generous.
The complete opposite of the women she taught beside at Bouchard’s, and they seemed open to the possibility of getting to know her better, too, though that made her uncomfortable.
Then again, a lot of things made her uneasy, more so now than before.
At least when she’d been teaching, she knew what to expect, knew what her position in life was and planned accordingly.
All that had changed with her mother’s death.
“Yes, please join us.” Susannah lifted the teapot from the tray and gestured with it.
“The tea is perfect.” She nodded toward the cook.
“And Mrs. Gallagher has outdone herself with these petit fours.” She nodded toward the desserts on delicate China plates next to little sandwiches with the crusts cut off. “The sandwiches are wonderful, too.”
“They ain’t nothin’ special,” Mrs. Gallagher murmured, but still her face brightened, and her smile widened.
Sheridan descended the rest of the stairs and entered the parlor, lush with green plants and comfortable furniture around the Aubusson rug, the colors a muted mix of Wedgewood blue, ivory, and pink, which matched the heavy draperies over the windows.
Those draperies were open now to let in bright streams of sunlight on this lazy Sunday afternoon. “Oh, thank you.”
She made herself comfortable on one of the upholstered wing-back chairs, the cushion soft and deep, and accepted the teacup upon its matching saucer from Susannah.
“Mrs. Gallagher said you wanted to know about Josie.” Valentine broached the subject, rather bluntly.
Every muscle in her body tensed as she stiffened. She forced herself to relax, certain Valentine didn’t mean to be so brusque, but still blurted out, “Her name was Josephine.”
“Perhaps that was the name she was given, but we all knew her and loved her as Josie.” Lily rested a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Sheridan was uncomfortable beneath the light touch but tried hard not to let it show.
“You didn’t know your mother at all, did you?”
Sheridan looked up at Lily through the veil of her lashes and slowly shook her head.
“No. Up until I received the letters from Mr. Applebaum and Lucy Hart, I thought she had passed when I was born. That’s what I was told.
Aunt Estelle talked about her, but it was never kind.
She said my mother was a fallen woman and that she died giving birth to me to pay for her sins. ”
“Then you were not told the truth. Let me tell you about her.” Lily poured more tea into her own cup and sat beside her.
“Josie DuBois was the best woman I’ve ever known.
Warm and kind, she never looked down on anyone because of their circumstances.
” She gestured to the other ladies gathered in the parlor, all dressed in fashions from last year, their faces clean of powder, rouge, and kohl.
If she didn’t know better, she’d assume they were just friends enjoying each other’s company after church.
“She took us in when no one else wanted us. Gave us food and shelter, love and understanding. And protection. She made sure we were healthy. I never in my life saw a doctor before Josie took me in. My own husband, the man who was supposed to love me and care for me, never treated me as well as Josie did.” Lily’s gaze remained straight-forward.
She never even blinked. “She never raised a hand to me as he did. When he passed and left me with nothing, Josie took me in, no questions asked.”
“My father kicked me out of his house when he learned I had given myself to our neighbor,” Barrie said softly as a small smile tilted the corner of her mouth.
“He wasn’t the only one. I enjoyed sex, which neither one of my folks could understand.
They were from the ‘procreation only’ school of thought.
What a horrible way to live.” She laughed, a light joyous sound that made others want to join in.
“Anyway, Josie helped me after they banned me from their home. She taught me to read and write and do arithmetic, which my folks never deemed necessary for me to know. She gave me more than I can ever repay.”
Sheridan put down the teacup and saucer, though the tea was perfect, but she was afraid she’d drop or break both, her grip was so tight. What Lily and Barrie said about Josephine did not sound like the woman Aunt Estelle and her grandmother constantly derided. Not at all.
She looked at Susannah with her cupids’ bow mouth and soft, gentle blue eyes. “Did my mother take you in as well?”
Susannah nodded, her bright-red ringlets bouncing.
“She did.” She smiled, revealing a dimple in her cheek.
“And I loved her for it. I ran away with the first boy who said he loved me. He promised me we’d get married, but he straight-up lied.
I found myself in a very bad place.” Sadness crept into her eyes, and she didn’t seem able to continue.
After a moment, she took a deep breath then said, “Josie DuBois saved me. She treated me better than anyone ever had, and I’m grateful to her every day. I miss her.”
“She took me in, too, but you already know my story,” Mrs. Gallagher said as she chose a morsel from the platter of petit fours.
“She helped a lot of women. Too many to name over the years.” Lily passed Sheridan the plate with the sandwiches, which she refused. “She helped a lot of men, too.”
Sheridan’s body flushed. She could feel the heat rising to her face. Even her ears burned.
Lily laughed and patted her hand. “Not in the way you’re thinking.
” She shook her head. “Josie was very civic minded. Whenever the Ladies’ Society here in town embarked on a new project and needed to raise funds, though she didn’t participate in whatever activity that might entail, she did give money toward it.
Anonymously, of course, except to us, and Lucy Hart, who learned her secret.
The Ladies’ Society even asked her to join them.
She was flattered but refused, because she didn’t think some of the women would accept her, which was a shame. Josie was a good woman.”
Sheridan took in the information, comparing it to what she’d been led to believe all her life, devastated to realize Odette and Estelle had told her nothing but lies.
She still didn’t understand why, but knowing their penchant for being pious and rigid, she could guess.
Josephine DuBois had dared to disobey, just as she had by coming here.
Lily grasped her hand, drawing her attention.
“Your mother only told me once what happened the day you were born. Your grandmother, I believe her name was Odette, but I’m not sure because she never really talked about her, was so angry that she’d become pregnant and brought shame to the family, though no one knew for the longest time.
Hell, Josie didn’t even know. She was so happy, but she was scared, too, knowing what your grandmother was like. Strict. Cold. Unfeeling.”
Her eyes gleamed with tears for the way Josie had been treated.
“She named you, but that was all. She never even got to hold you before you were taken away from her. She was forced to leave your grandmother’s home that very night with nothing except a small suitcase and a few dollars in her purse.
She was forbidden to ever come back or the door would be slammed in her face. ”
“That’s not true. Grand-mère would never have done that.” Even as she said the words, Sheridan wasn’t sure now. “Odette was strict. She was cold as well, but to take me away from her, then force her to leave? That would be just plain cruel.”
“But that’s exactly what she did.”
Sheridan knew the truth at that moment. Odette had done that to her mother. To her.
“She broke Josie’s heart. Your mother thought about you every day, but she did as she was told, afraid of them, knowing she didn’t have the resources, the power or the wealth it would take to fight them to keep you.
She was so young, only sixteen when you were born.
” Lily picked up a delicate dessert and inspected it, eventually taking a bite.
“I’d catch her every now and then writing letters to you.
Whether she sent them or not, I don’t know, but she wrote them.
” She waved her hand, encompassing the parlor. “This house—”