2 

Sarah slipped through the female servants’ entrance and bolted the door behind her.

In the kitchen a moment later, Mrs. Fletcher glimpsed the clock.

“Three minutes to spare,” Sarah announced, breathless. After the meal she had lost valuable time graciously declining Lillie’s insistent offer to deliver her home in an open carriage. Lillie’s suggestion was reasonable, of course, but the whole evening would have been undone if Lillie had come to the corner of Eighteenth Street and Prairie Avenue and seen which entrance Sarah used to the Banning mansion. Fortunately, Sarah had found a streetcar easily and boarded it out of Lillie’s view.

“I’m going on up.” Mrs. Fletcher pulled herself out of the stuffed chair that always sat below the window. “It’s about time I had a summer break instead of dragging up to the lake year after year. I don’t know what made Mrs. Banning decide to hire a summer cook, but I’m grateful.”

“It’s my turn to make breakfast for Leo, isn’t it?” Sarah asked.

Mrs. Fletcher nodded.

“At least he always eats.” Sarah laid her handbag on a counter. “I used to find it annoying to go to all the trouble to serve breakfast and hear Oliver say, ‘I’m not hungry’ or ‘Just coffee, please.’”

“Well, Oliver’s gone and married now. Lucy too. Richard will be gone to school soon enough.”

Sarah was glad to be rid of the whole bunch.

“There’s bacon in the icebox, and plenty of eggs,” Mrs. Fletcher said. “Leo will be down at seven-thirty as usual.”

“It must be the engineer in him that makes him so precise.” Most of the household staff had journeyed up to Lake Forest to look after Flora and Samuel Banning and Richard for seven weeks. With Leo home and Samuel dropping in periodically to tend to his law practice, Mrs. Fletcher and Sarah had been left behind to keep them comfortable and the house running smoothly. Karl, an under-coachman, was around for odd jobs and Leo’s minimal demands for transport.

Looking weary on her feet, Mrs. Fletcher gestured toward the kitchen table. “Another note came for you from Simon Tewell.”

Sarah straightened her skirt.

“This is the third note he’s sent,” Mrs. Fletcher said. “What does he want?”

“So far he just says he wants to discuss something with me and asks would I come to St. Andrew’s at my convenience.”

Mrs. Fletcher scoffed as she pressed her gray hair back on her head. “He knows you’re in service. There is no convenience.”

“I’m certainly not going to spend my day off ferreting out his mysteries,” Sarah said.

“With the family away now, you should have time to find out what he wants. Just let me know when you’re going to be gone.” Mrs. Fletcher shuffled toward the stairs leading up from the kitchen to the servants’ quarters. “I’m going to bed. Make sure you put the lights out when you come up.”

“Good night.” Sarah listened as the older woman scaled the stairs with weary steps. Three years ago the two of them had regarded each other warily. Sarah was not any more content now with the thought of a life in service, but she no longer regarded Mrs. Fletcher as her captor. Finding a way out was just taking longer than she had hoped.

Tonight’s dinner had been easier than Sarah ever imagined. Lillie Wagner needed a friend, and Serena Cuthbert was up to the challenge.

Sarah moved to the table and picked up the envelope, certain its contents would be the same as the previous two.

Simon Tewell had been the assistant director at St. Andrew’s Orphanage during Sarah’s later years there. She had liked him well enough—as much as she liked anyone at that place. In fact, he once had listened to her tearful rant about the injustice of having both her parents killed in an accident and being left alone, and never once had he told her it was the way of the world and she would just have to adjust. It had been three years since she’d left the orphanage and joined the domestic staff of the Bannings’. Lucy Banning Edwards held a more or less permanent volunteer position at the orphanage. When she came to family dinners, Lucy occasionally reported that Simon had asked after Sarah. Lucy had arranged Sarah’s placement at the Bannings’ in the first place. In Sarah’s mind, though, that did not entitle Lucy to be making reports to the orphanage director. If Lucy wanted to do something to help her now, she should use her influence to find Sarah a new position with some dignity.

Sarah had not been back to the orphanage even one time. Why should she go there? She wanted a future, not reminders of her past. Wasn’t the point to get children out of the orphanage and on their own? Wasn’t that why she had gone into service in the first place? Going back to St. Andrew’s was movement in the wrong direction.

“This was not supposed to be my life,” Sarah murmured to the empty room. “My father was a department manager for Marshall Field. We had a home. He wanted more for me than this.”

Her parents had been killed instantly in a traffic accident. Sarah had been at school in the middle of an arithmetic lesson. The question that had haunted Sarah every day since her parents’ death was why her father had not made sure she was provided for. He’d filled her full of dreams that shattered with his death, his only legacy an empty bank account and an untraceable family tree.

Serena Cuthbert, that’s what Sarah wanted—and not just for a random, serendipitous evening. Serena Cuthbert did not come from an orphanage dormitory or sleep in a servant’s narrow attic room. She did not cook and serve meals and sweep floors. If she liked a hat, she bought it. If she wanted a gown, she had it made from fresh, unspoiled textiles direct from New York. Sarah’s own father would have been proud of Serena Cuthbert.

Sarah picked up Simon Tewell’s envelope with its tidy handwriting but did not break the seal. She would take it upstairs and put it with the others, unpersuaded she had any reason to go back to that place.

Lillie flopped onto her bed, tummy first, feet up in the air. The quilt was new, the appliqued rose and leaf pattern commissioned by her mother to match the freshly installed wallpaper. In a few minutes Lillie would send for her ladies’ maid to help her undress, but for now she wanted only to savor the evening. How fortunate that she had been in the milliner’s shop at the same time as Serena Cuthbert. She and her mother had taken tea a few times with the wives of her father’s business associates, but Serena was the first young woman Lillie had met in Chicago who she felt might be a true friend.

With the thought of Serena at her side, Lillie dreaded the upcoming Fourth of July celebration a little less. Serena had accepted the invitation to celebrate with the Wagners readily enough. With the Cuthberts in Europe, Serena would not have her family’s traditional party on the pier at the lake house. Serena’s description of the Cuthbert gala did make it sound fun, though. Next year Serena would invite Lillie to celebrate with her family, perhaps even in Lake Forest. For the time being, Serena was free to make whatever plans she wished for the holiday. She had said she would be delighted to go meet the Wagners at Jackson Park.

Paul Gunnison would be there, of course. Until she moved to Chicago in April, Lillie had not seen Paul in ten years. She had been a child, and he a teenager with no particular interest in the wide-eyed, round-faced little girl whose eyes trailed his movements when their families socialized. And when his family moved to Chicago to launch the Midwest branch of the candy-making business, he faded from Lillie’s mind. Lillie and Paul had barely recognized each other the first time they met again in Chicago, but the spark was instant. Paul had called on Lillie four times already. Of course, he stayed only fifteen minutes each time, because to stay any longer would be rude, but Lillie felt the way he looked at her now and the attentiveness he offered even in those brief interludes. She was sure Paul planned to speak to her father and ask permission to escort Lillie formally.

She was going to need some new gowns if she were going to be seen on the arm of Paul Gunnison. Lillie slapped her own face in chastisement for neglecting to get the name of Serena’s dressmaker. Though Serena had worn only a simple skirt and shirtwaist, Lillie could appreciate the attention to detail in every tuck and topstitch. The garments draped Serena’s frame perfectly.

Lillie sat up straight on the bed. Bradley Townsend was also going to be at the Fourth of July party. She would have to make sure he was formally introduced to Serena. Though she hardly knew him and he seemed nice enough, Lillie had no interest in Brad herself. He was sure to appreciate the pleasant bearing and conversation of someone like Serena. After all, they both had spent considerable time in France, and Serena’s parents were there now. They were sure to find common ground.

Lillie had offered to have her coachman see Serena home tonight, but her new friend had refused. Lillie supposed it was part of Serena’s determination not to be a bother to people and to learn some independence. It did seem rather exciting to think of navigating around Chicago alone. Serena could get into a cab and go anywhere she wanted. No one told her where she ought not to go or decided on a destination without even consulting her. Lillie lolled on her back, pleasantly imagining such delicious independence.

She heard Moira’s familiar soft knock on her bedroom door and bid her enter.

“Shall I turn down your bed now, miss?”