In the Company of Secrets (5 page)

He waited as though he expected some response. But Mr. Howard’s revelation had rendered her speechless. She could barely believe her ears. Randolph Morgan was married and had children? How could that be? Worse yet,
she
must be the one to deliver this startling news to Lady Charlotte. Her ladyship certainly didn’t expect to hear that the man she planned to wed was already married—and a father! There must be some explanation, but she could imagine none at the moment.

Once she’d gathered her wits, Olivia forced herself to speak. ‘‘Somehow, I believed Mr. Morgan was a resident of Pullman.’’

Mr. Howard remained close by her side while they continued to stroll down the shaded sidewalk. ‘‘No. Like Mr. Pullman, he lives in Chicago. So you’re acquainted with Mr. Morgan?’’

Olivia shook her head and clasped an open palm to her bodice. ‘‘Oh no. I’ve never personally met the gentleman.’’ Careful to avoid any mention of Lady Charlotte, she explained that Mr. Morgan had interviewed and hired her dear cousin Albert Mott on one of his visits to England.

‘‘So
that’s
why you’ve chosen Pullman as your new home. I knew there must be a sound reason for you to forfeit your position at Lanshire Hall.’’

Olivia didn’t bother to respond. What could she say that wouldn’t compound the lies she’d already told? She focused her thoughts on Lady Charlotte and how she would react to the news. Where would Charlotte go and what would she do? Perhaps she could spend the night at the hotel and return to Chicago in the morning. And then what? Would her ladyship go home and tell her parents the truth? She doubted whether Lady Charlotte would consider that suggestion a realistic solution to her problem. Olivia was uncertain how long they’d been walking when Mr. Howard led her toward a set of wooden steps that fronted one of the brick row houses.

He pulled a key from his vest pocket. ‘‘I can offer you two choices for your housing arrangements. Since you’ll be furnished many of your meals at the hotel, I thought you might want to room with another family. If not, you may rent one of the smaller row houses and take in a boarder or two if you wish. Otherwise, you’ll find that alternative rather expensive.’’ He turned the key in the lock. ‘‘Perhaps your cousin would like to rent one of the rooms.’’

Moving in with another family held little appeal, yet she must talk to Albert before agreeing to rent the house. ‘‘May I withhold my decision until I speak with my cousin? Perhaps I could take a room in the hotel for tonight.’’ Surely Charlotte would pay for a hotel room for one night.

‘‘I understand your dilemma, Miss Mott, but our hotel rooms are rather expensive.’’ Mr. Howard tugged at his collar. ‘‘Most of our guests are wealthy businessmen. . . .’’

Obviously her suggestion caused him discomfort. ‘‘I see. Then I wonder if you could offer some suggestion to aid me?’’

He brightened at the request. ‘‘I shall be at home this evening. Once you’ve talked to your cousin, the two of you may come to my house and advise me of your decision. I’ll make the necessary arrangements so that you can move into the lodgings of your choice tonight.’’

Well, she couldn’t ask for any more than that! ‘‘I believe you’ve offered me a suitable solution to my problem. Thank you, Mr. Howard.’’

‘‘My pleasure. Shall I accompany you on a tour of the Ar—’’ He stopped midsentence and stared toward the park.

Olivia followed his gaze. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Charlotte was sitting on one of the park benches—
waving
. Whatever was she thinking!

Mr. Howard shaded his eyes and took a step forward, his eyebrows furrowed. ‘‘I don’t believe I know that young lady.’’

Olivia clasped his arm. ‘‘She’s signaling me. She’s a friend who accompanied me from England.’’ The words spilled out of her mouth before she could stop them.

‘‘With you? Is she seeking employment?’’ The moment he’d asked the question, a gust of wind captured Charlotte’s cloak and whisked it aside. Her bulging midsection protruded like a small watermelon. Mr. Howard arched his brows. ‘‘And does your friend have a husband, Miss Mott?’’

‘‘She’s a widow. A dreadful accident.’’

The lies slipped over her tongue like butter. In her haste to prove the validity of her response, Olivia chattered on. Mr. Howard visibly paled as her words flowed with unbridled ease. When she eventually fell silent, he stared at her, mouth agape. She’d woven a masterful story that even the brothers Grimm would have applauded.

Mr. Howard shook his head while he commiserated over Charlotte’s future.

Best to strike when opportunity availed itself, she decided. ‘‘Is there any rule that would prohibit her from residing with me should she so choose? With her small inheritance, she could pay enough that I could afford the house.’’ She offered him a bright smile. ‘‘And my cousin wouldn’t need to make any change in his current living arrangements.’’

‘‘Highly unusual.’’ He massaged his forehead. ‘‘Residents of Pullman are either employees or relatives.
Is
she related to you, Miss Mott?’’

Did he want her to change her previous comment? Was he encouraging her to lie? She couldn’t be certain.

‘‘Might she be a distant cousin?’’

Olivia bit her lower lip. ‘‘Perhaps.’’ Her voice was no more than a whisper.

‘‘Excellent! Then I see no problem. Why don’t we go and tell your
distant cousin
the good news?’’ With a conspiratorial wink, he grasped her elbow and began to walk toward the park.

Olivia jerked to a halt. ‘‘No! We don’t want to do that.’’

‘‘We don’t?’’ He appeared dismayed by her behavior.

She wagged her head back and forth. ‘‘No, we don’t. Her loss is so recent that she becomes extremely emotional.’’ Olivia dropped her voice a notch. ‘‘She’s embarrassed by her outbursts—especially in public or with strangers.’’

The company agent’s enthusiasm deflated as quickly as a punctured balloon. ‘‘Having experienced a similar plight, I thought I might be able to lend a word of comfort.’’ He tipped his head to the side and frowned. ‘‘I’m somewhat surprised to see your friend has already given up her mourning attire.’’

Olivia silently chided herself. Why hadn’t she thought of her ladyship’s dress? Any respectable widow would be wearing a black mourning gown rather than a pink and white silk stripe. Mr. Howard awaited her response.

‘‘Questions! Charlotte detests having strangers interrogate her about her husband’s death.’’

When he slowly nodded, Olivia continued. ‘‘Charlotte donned her normal daytime attire at my recommendation. She loathed the idea. However, she soon discovered my plan freed her from a plethora of prying questions.’’

Yet another lie! If she didn’t soon record this entire tale, she’d surely forget one of the details. Worse yet, she must see to it that Lady Charlotte learned every minute facet of her story. Otherwise, they would most certainly be found out. ‘‘If you would permit me a moment alone with my friend, I’ll advise her to wait for me while we tour the house.’’

Mr. Howard glanced in Lady Charlotte’s direction. ‘‘You’re quite sure she wouldn’t like to join us? It might relieve some of her worries, even cheer her a bit to see the fine dwelling where she’ll be living.’’

‘‘No!’’

Mr. Howard startled at her sharp response.

Olivia silently chastised herself for her careless behavior. After a gentle reminder of Charlotte’s fragile emotional state, she said, ‘‘I truly believe it’s best for us to go alone. I’ll return straightaway.’’

Olivia hurried across the grassy expanse and wasted no time issuing her brief instructions to Lady Charlotte. ‘‘You
must
do as I’ve requested. I’ll explain everything upon my return.’’

She hastened back to Mr. Howard’s side. There was little doubt he’d been carefully watching the exchange, and Olivia forced herself to assume a nonchalant demeanor. ‘‘I was correct in my assumption. Charlotte much prefers to remain in the park and enjoy the fresh air.’’

During their walk and the subsequent tour of the house, Mr. Howard plied her with questions. In order to avoid telling any further lies, she responded with varying and sundry inquiries of her own. For the most part, she was successful. And when she could think of no further questions, she expounded upon the beauty of Pullman, a topic that Mr. Howard was more than willing to dwell upon.

Although Olivia had explained Charlotte’s aversion to visiting with strangers during her time of grief, Mr. Howard remained close at hand as they started toward the park. She must find some way to escape him and speak privately with Charlotte. There was so much to tell her ladyship. ‘‘I would be grateful for assistance with the delivery of our baggage from the train depot to the house,’’ Olivia said. ‘‘If you could direct me to someone who could help?’’

‘‘Please allow me. All of the horses, carriages, and wagons are maintained in the Pullman Stables.’’ He nodded toward the clean and quiet streets. ‘‘Makes for a tidier community. I can stop and make the arrangements before returning to work.’’

‘‘I do appreciate your kindness, especially when I’ve already taken far too much of your time.’’

‘‘My pleasure. As I mentioned earlier, I’ll be at home this evening if you need anything further.’’ He tipped his hat. ‘‘I’m pleased that you’ve joined our community, Miss Mott.’’

Waiting only until he was out of sight, Olivia hiked her skirt and hurried off to meet with Lady Charlotte. Though glad to be free of Mr. Howard, she feared revealing the news of Mr. Morgan’s marriage. What if Lady Charlotte caused a scene and drew unwanted attention? Olivia maintained a steady gaze on her former mistress, suddenly struck by the realization that Charlotte might not want to remain in Pullman any longer. If so, what would she tell Mr. Howard?

Don’t borrow trouble
. The words played over and over in her mind as she approached. Lady Charlotte stepped forward with an air of expectancy. ‘‘Well?’’

Olivia forced a smile. ‘‘Chef René has hired me as his assistant. I begin tomorrow, though I fear I’ll be an utter failure. Your letter was much too—’’

‘‘No.’’ Charlotte shook her head and frowned. ‘‘I want to hear about Randolph. Did you secure his address?’’

‘‘Why don’t we go over there?’’ Olivia didn’t wait for Lady Charlotte to protest. Instead, she pointed toward a bench along the far side of the park and marched off. If her ladyship wanted to hear anything further, she’d be required to follow. At least the woman would be somewhat closer to the ground in the event she fainted. Callous thought, perhaps, but Olivia had heard many a story about her ladyship’s petulant behavior. As Charlotte’s lady-in-waiting, Ludie had always taken such conduct in stride, but Olivia wasn’t accustomed to dealing with high-strung women who succumbed to fainting spells and tantrums. Ludie would know how to handle this situation, but Ludie wasn’t in Pullman.

Charlotte panted for breath as she yanked on Olivia’s hand and plopped down. ‘‘This bench will do! Now tell me about Randolph.’’

Olivia hesitated, searching for the proper words, but nothing came to mind.

‘‘Well, come on, girl! Tell me what you’ve discovered!’’

It might have been Lady Charlotte’s angry tone, or the fact she’d called her
girl,
or perchance it was the final realization there would be no easy way to convey the information. For whatever reason and without further thought, Olivia blurted out the dreaded words. ‘‘He’s married.’’

Olivia clenched her fists in expectation of a scream, a denial—some show of emotion. She waited. But only silence reigned. Lady Charlotte merely stared at her as though she hadn’t spoken. Olivia forced her gaze away from the woman and looked down at her scuffed shoes. She should have polished them before going on the interview. But she shouldn’t be thinking about her shoes at this moment.

Giving herself a silent rebuke for her callous behavior, Olivia stole a glance at her former mistress. ‘‘Did you hear me, Lady Charlotte? I said that Mr. Morgan is married—he has children. He and his family live in Chicago, not in Pullman.’’

This time Olivia
should
have clenched her fists. Lady Charlotte’s tirade was like nothing she had ever witnessed. The woman appeared to experience a state of delayed hysteria as she shrieked, wailed, and accused Olivia of lying. But when the outburst finally concluded, no more than an occasional sob or hiccough escaped Lady Charlotte’s lips. The emotional explosion had taken its toll. Bright red splotches mottled her ladyship’s porcelain complexion, and pillowed half moons slowly formed beneath her azure eyes.

‘‘Your information must be incorrect. Are you certain you asked about
Randolph
Morgan?’’ A loud hiccough followed the question.

Olivia gave an authoritative nod. They
both
knew the account was correct, the only difference being Lady Charlotte’s reluctance to accept the truth. ‘‘I know you’re unnerved by this dreadful news. However, you
must
make some immediate decisions.’’

After one glance at Lady Charlotte’s quivering lower lip, Olivia revealed the housing arrangement she’d made with Mr. Howard. When she’d finished, Charlotte silently looked toward the horizon.

Not knowing what else she should do or say, Olivia added, ‘‘Please don’t feel obliged to remain because of the living accommodations. I can ask my cousin to share the house with me.’’

The comment had the desired effect. Charlotte glanced at her protruding stomach. ‘‘Where else could I go? I certainly cannot go home in this condition. Neither my parents nor I could abide the gossip that would be whispered throughout London. I’d ruin any possibility of a proper marriage.’’ She rested one hand upon her stomach. ‘‘If only I’d taken care of matters earlier.’’ She slumped back against the bench.

Olivia didn’t know if Charlotte meant she should have contacted Mr. Morgan several months ago or she should have done harm to the child before arriving at this stage in her pregnancy. And Olivia truly didn’t want to know. For if it was the latter, she would think far less highly of the woman.

‘‘Why don’t you sit here while I check to see that our luggage is on the way? Then I’ll take you to see our new home.’’ Charlotte didn’t argue. She’d transformed into a docile and submissive companion. How had their roles so quickly changed?