Chapter 12

 

“Dear Aunt Emily: My beloved Henry and I will be married in the spring. Neither of us has much money, but Henry works very hard and will surely be a success. My mother and father do not approve of him because he is not wealthy. But, Aunt Emily, he is everything I’ve ever wanted. He is so kind, and he attends church with me every Sunday. How can I make my parents realize Henry is the man of my dreams, even if he isn’t rich? Love, An Unhappy Maiden.”

“Dear Maiden: God bless the both of you, my dear. Aunt Emily believes the best way to educate is by example. I am certain that, in time, you and your young man will teach your parents you have made the right decision. Please accept your loving Aunt Emily’s best wishes for a happy lifetime with your Henry.”

Emily’s throat ached when she put down her pen to answer the telephone.

# # #

Will sat in Thomas Crandall’s breakfast room And tried to concentrate on eating.

It had taken all the control at his command to force himself to leave Emily’s bed that morning. He’d wanted to make love to her again and again, until neither one of them could stand. But he would kill himself before he caused her a second’s embarrassment, and he knew that he knew having him discovered in her bed would be embarrassing to her.

“You mean he hired somebody to kidnap the dogs?” Thomas Crandall asked, intruding on Will’s thoughts.

“Kidnap or kill. Emily thwarted him, though.”

The real pride in Will’s voice made Thomas smile when he stuck a forkful of eggs in his mouth and chewed. “And how did your enterprising Aunt Emily do such a thing?”

“She nearly battered him to death with a big stick. She had a little help from the dogs.”

Thomas swallowed quickly so he wouldn’t choke on his breakfast. “Lord above, I’d like to have seen it. A little girl like her and a couple dogs that look like ferrets. It must have been something to behold.”

For some reason, the thought of his friend viewing Emily in her nightie and robe did not sit well with Will.

His sudden scowl made Thomas stop laughing. “What’s the matter, Will?”

“Nothing.”

Thomas noticed it was a harsh, grumpy reply. “So, what time did you get to bed, anyway? I didn’t hear you come in.”

Since Will had never blushed before in his life, he didn’t recognize the sudden surge of heat flushing his cheeks and dampening his collar. He wondered if he had suddenly been taken ill.

But Thomas recognized a blush when he saw one. “My God in heaven! You spent the night with her!”

“That’s enough, Thomas. We’re going to be married. She asked me to stay because she’s alone in the house and there had just been a break-in, for God’s sake.”

“Of course.”

Will eyed his friend uncertainly for a moment or two. But he felt too wonderful this morning to hold a grudge. He was also too full of energy to sit still, so he jumped up and helped himself to some more bacon and toast from the side board.

“I know Pickering was behind that break-in, Thomas. Emily thinks so, too. He’s afraid because now that I’m involved, those dogs are becoming popular. They’re already getting telephone calls about them.” He spoke with pride

“I knew you could do it, Will. Did you doubt it yourself?”

“Not really, I guess.”

“Well, I should hope not. If anybody on earth can make people crave something useless, it’s you. I guess it’s a gift.”

“I guess.” Will quirked a brow. “You know, it wasn’t until I met Emily that I really understood honor and decency. She’s just so—so real, so pure.”

“Pure?” Thomas raised his eyebrows, and Will blushed for the second time in his life.

“You know what I mean. She tried her damnedest to trick me into marrying her, but she couldn’t make herself do it in the end. And I don’t think it’s just because she loves me, either, even though I know she does. It’s because she’s too decent to trick a man into matrimony, no matter how desperate she is. And, Thomas, I know damned good and well, she was desperate.”

“I knew it too, the minute you told me Clarence Pickering was on the scene.”

“Yes. And that’s another thing. I’m going to put an end to that man’s career, too. I’m not sure how, but I’m going to do it.”

“Well, let me know if you need help. He’s a certified evil man and deserves to be put away,” Thomas said with a snap of his napkin as he stood up. “I don’t suppose your little Emily has any friends, do you? I can’t stand the thought of you being married and me being single, Will. It just doesn’t seem right.”

“I think she’s been too busy keeping her aunt and uncle out of trouble to make many friends.”

“That sounds like a pretty lonely path for a young woman to have traveled during her youth, Will.”

“It was, Thomas. I don’t know all the details, but I’m going to do my best to make up for it, believe me.”

Thomas had never seen such a look on his friend’s face before in all the time the two of them had played together and worked together and even mourned together. Will Tate was genuinely, honestly in love.

I believe you, Will,” Thomas said with a lopsided grin.

“I believe you, Will.” Thomas’s grin cocked askew.

Just then his butler entered the breakfast room to deliver Emily’s letter into Will’s hands. Will had to read the epistle twice before he could believe his eyes hadn’t deceived him the first time.

“Well, hell!”

The expletive shot out of his mouth in a burst of fury that made Thomas jump. “What is it?”

Will glared at the letter and then at Thomas, and then back at the letter. “Decency,” he snarled.

Since Thomas didn’t know how he was supposed to respond to that, he said nothing.

Will’s furious gaze scorched the paper in his hand for another minute before he began to read it aloud to his friend. “‘Dear Mr. Tate.’ Goddamn it, Thomas, she was calling me ‘Will’ last night.”

He took a deep breath and went on.

“‘Dear Mr. Tate. Please accept my deepest apologies for not telling you this in person, but I don’t believe my slight courage would bear up under the weight of my words, and I don’t dare take the chance. I cannot marry you, Mr. Tate, as much as it would give me the greatest pleasure to do so. I’m afraid I am not what you believe me to be. It is beyond my feeble strength to confess All to you, but please believe me when I tell you I love you with all my heart. It is that love which prevents me from allowing you to make the biggest mistake of your life. Please believe me, also, when I tell you that, when you return to Texas, you will be taking my heart with you. Fare well. Emily von Plotz.’”

“Well, shit.” Will crumpled the letter up in his fist, then uncrumpled it again and smoothed it flat. It made his heart hurt to wrinkle anything sent him by his Emily.

Thomas shook his head. “Told you so. Told you she was honorable.”

“If she’s so blasted honorable, why doesn’t she just tell me she’s been trying to trick me and let me choose for myself?”

“She’s probably ashamed of herself and afraid you’ll hate her.”

Will snorted. “I never did understand shame.”

“Of course not.”

The men looked at each other for a second and then uttered two words together: “Uncle Mel.”

# # #

Emily’s gloom did not abate when Clarence Pickering came to call in the afternoon. She knew Will had received her letter by this time and must hate her. It was difficult to keep her voice bright when she answered the telephone because she kept wanting to cry. When Pickering opened the door to her aunt’s office and stepped inside without so much as a by-your-leave, however, her unhappiness immediately transformed itself into fury.

“How dare you show your face in this house after your villainy of last night?” she cried in indignation. It was all she could do to keep from picking up the heavy telephone and flinging it at Pickering’s head.

“Why, Emily, my dear, what on earth do you mean by that?”

Pickering’s smile was one of absolute sincerity, and his words were disgustingly sweet as usual. He even had the temerity to look surprised at her outburst.

“Get out of this house, Mr. Pickering, and don’t ever show your face here again. After trying to kidnap Uncle Ludwig’s beloved dogs last night, how dare you even enter these portals?”

“Me?” Pickering placed a manicured hand on the expensive summer suite which lay over what passed for his heart. “Emily, my dear, you know I’d never do anything to hurt your uncle’s dogs. I wasn’t within a mile of this house last night. What on earth are you talking about?”

“Of course you weren’t here. You hired somebody to do your evil work for you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dear. Did something happen to your uncle’s darling doggies?”

Emily stood up and pressed her hands down on her aunt’s desk. Her breasts heaved with wrath, which doubled when she saw Pickering’s gaze slide to her chest. When the telephone rang, she lifted the receiver from its cradle with a grip that would have crushed a less well-constructed object.

“Hello!” she bellowed into the instrument. Then she realized what she had done, and her face flamed.

Pickering fell silent, apparently deciding he didn’t dare rile her further. Emily glared at him as she spoke to the caller.

“Oh, hello, Aunt Gertrude. No, I’m fine, Aunt, really. I didn’t know Aunt Gretchen had a telephone in her house. Oh, how nice. I’m glad. This evening? Yes, everything is fine here, Aunt, except for a little disturbance overnight.” She cast Pickering a scalding glance. “Everything is all right now. Yes, Aunt. Good. I’ll see you then. Please give my love to Aunt Gretchen and Uncle Wilhelm. All right. Yes. Good-bye.”

Emily replaced the receiver with great delicacy.

“My aunt and uncle are coming home this evening, Mr. Pickering, and you may be sure they will hear about your perfidy. And don’t you even dare to think I don’t know you were the one behind that man’s attempt to hurt Gustav and Helga.”

“My darling Miss Emily, I can’t conceive of why you hold me in such slight regard. Nor can I imagine why you think I should have anything at all to do with hurting your uncle’s precious dogs. Why, my dear, I’d never do such a vile thing.”

Pickering’s attempt to look crushed made Emily want to scream. Instead, she said, “Get out of here, Mr. Pickering. My aunt will soon learn what an evil man you are. If she didn’t believe me before, she certainly will now.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Emily dear, but I shall take my leave now, as you seem too perturbed to listen to reason. Your aunt,” he said with a smile that tried to be sincere but looked merely sly to Emily, “will believe me.” That was Pickering’s parting shot.

Emily glared at the door as it shut behind him, and had the morose thought he was probably right. The knowledge settled like curdled cream in her belly.

Well, like it or not, her Aunt Gertrude would finally be made to sit down and listen to her. Emily still had not had the chance to confront Gertrude with the reality of her disastrous financial situation. At least, she thought with some relief, now that Will was helping Uncle Ludwig, their financial problem might be in a way to being solved.

When she thought about Will Emily’s heart felt as though it were being squeezed by a giant’s fist. She forced herself to think calmly.

She was going to make Gertrude understand about money, and about Clarence Pickering. She simply had to listen to her this time.

With that firm resolve, Emily left her aunt’s office. She needed to find Blodgett and recruit him to tend to the telephone while she delivered today’s column to Mr. Kaplan.

When she entered her aunt’s kitchen, Emily had a brief, dazzling image of what her life with Will Tate might have been like had she not set herself upon a course of deceit and untruth. The two Blodgetts were cozily chatting with the comfort that comes of having spent a lifetime together. Mr. Blodgett was polishing the silver while Mrs. Blodgett cooked.

The Blodgetts had been married for at least forty years. They’d had children together, and now they had grandchildren. They had grown old as a couple and fit together as comfortably as a pair of old shoes. Emily nearly burst into tears as the reality of what she had thrown away washed over her.

It took a moment before she could make herself respond to Mrs. Blodgett’s happy, “Good morning, Miss Emily.”

“Good morning, Mrs. Blodgett, Mr. Blodgett.”

“You didn’t ask for breakfast this morning, dear. Do you want something now?”

The very thought of food made Emily feel sickish. Her misery filled her much more effectively than food ever could.

“No, thank you. I’m not very hungry. But I do need to walk my column to Mr. Kaplan’s office, if you wouldn’t mind taking over the telephone for a couple of hours, Mr. Blodgett.”

“Why certainly, Miss Emily. Just let me finish up the silver here, and I’ll be right along.”

“Thank you.” Emily eyed the old couple with love and longing. They had been employed by her aunt when she was a young bride just come from Germany. They must have worked for Gertrude Schindler for thirty-five years or more. She didn’t realize she had sighed aloud.

“Is there anything else you need, dear?”

Mrs. Blodgett looked at her with a big question in her old, tired eyes, and Emily realized she had been staring.

“Oh, no. No, nothing.” Before she shut the kitchen door, though, Emily did think of something. She turned in the doorway and asked, “Did either one of you hear anything last night?”

The Blodgetts exchanged puzzled glances. “Hear anything, Emily, dear? Hear what? I guess our old ears aren’t as good as they once were.” Mrs. Blodgett chuckled.

“Well, somebody sneaked into the back yard and into the kennel. I think they were trying to either hurt or kidnap Gustav and Helga. I chased whoever it was away.” If neither Blodgett had heard Will’s gunshot, Emily didn’t guess she had to bring him into the picture.

“Good gracious, Emily, why didn’t you wake us? Now that we have a telephone, we could have called the police.”

“Oh, my goodness. I didn’t even think of that.” It was an embarrassing oversight, all right. And by now, she supposed, all evidence of the intruder had been long since rubbed out by the incessant pattering of little dachshund feet.

“Well, if you really think somebody is after those dogs, I’d better make sure Chung Li watches them until your uncle gets back.”

Blodgett gave a final swipe to the silver teapot he had been polishing and then rose slowly to his feet. Emily could hear the various cricks and pops as his joints straightened out, and wondered who would be at Will Tate’s side to listen to his joints creak when he got old. Or hers, for that matter. It didn’t bear thinking of, so she stuffed the thought away.

# # #

By the time she got back from her editor’s office, her aunt and uncle had returned from their visit to Aunt Gretchen’s. Emily found Gertrude fluttering over baggage in the hallway. Uncle Ludwig was, of course, out back being greeted by his canine friends.

“Oh, Emily, darling, I’m so glad you’re here. I seem to have misplaced something.”

A quick glance at the jumble of suitcases and boxes littering the hallway was enough to make Emily shudder. As usual, though, she braced herself and tackled the challenge with a calm demeanor. At least dealing with her aunt’s luggage would keep her mind off of Will Tate. And after this problem was solved, she would force Gertrude to sit down and talk to her about her monetary situation. It simply had to be done.

“What is it you’ve misplaced, Aunt Gertrude?”

“I’m not sure, dear, but I’ll know what it is when we find it.”

Watching her aunt kneel beside a huge trunk, dip her arms inside, begin to fling clothes hither and yon, Emily discovered her patience was running perilously thin today.

“Aunt,” she said in a sharper voice than usual, “why don’t we get the bags up to your room. Then you can look through them. You’re tossing your things all over the front hallway.”

Gertrude’s faded blue eyes looked startled. “Oh! Oh, yes. I hadn’t thought of that. Perhaps it would be a good idea.”

With a huge sigh, Emily began picking up and returning belongings to her aunt’s trunk.

“Why on earth did you have to take this much luggage to Aunt Gretchen’s? You were only there for a day.” Emily could have bitten her tongue when she heard how snippy she sounded.

“Why, Emily, darling, you sound positively peeved. Are you feeling unwell?” Aunt Gertrude pressed her flighty hand against Emily’s forehead. “You don’t feel hot.”

“I’m not sick, Aunt.” Not unless heart-sickness counted, she supposed. “I’m just upset. We had an intruder last night, and I need to speak to you about it.”

“An intruder? How appalling. Oh, Emily, darling, are you all right? Did he harm you?”

Gertrude’s concern for her welfare was almost Emily’s undoing. She felt a sob well up in her throat, and slammed it back down with the greatest of difficulty. What a miserable, ungrateful, unkind, unfeeling girl she was. First she tried to deceive the only man in the world she would ever love, and now she was being mean to her beloved, if slightly crazy, Aunt Gertrude.

“Oh, Aunt Gertrude, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be short with you. I’m just upset about the dogs.”

“The dogs?” Gertrude stared at Emily blankly. “What do the dogs have to do with anything, dear? I thought the intruder was a person.”

“He was, Aunt. He tried to hurt the dogs.”

“Oh, dear, dear, dear. Your uncle won’t be happy to hear this.”

“No. But Gustav and Helga weren’t harmed, thank God.”

“Thank God.” Gertrude continued to eye Emily closely, though. “Are you certain you’re all right, dear. You don’t look well at all.”

Wonderful, thought Emily. Her wretchedness was probably written all over her face.

“Well, I am a little bit worried, Aunt. I do need to talk to you as soon as you have a minute.”

“Of course, dear. Just help me find whatever it is I’ve misplaced, and then we can chat for as long as you like.”

Apparently forgetting her resolve to take her bags to her room before she went through them, Gertrude began to fling their contents on the hall carpet once more. “I wish I could remember what it is I’m missing. It would be so much easier to find it if I could remember.”

Heaving a gusty sigh, Emily gave up and began carrying her aunt’s luggage upstairs while Gertrude demolished the contents of the largest trunk. The bags weighed a ton, and Emily just knew if Will were there he would relieve her of the heavy work. Another gigantic sigh and a tear followed her unhappy thought.

By the time she finally managed to settle her aunt down in a comfortable chair in the parlor, Emily had determined upon a course which, with any luck and a lot of patience, would not be too difficult for her aunt to follow.

She decided to tackle the bills first and postpone explaining about the intruder and her suspicion he had been hired by Clarence Pickering until later. She didn’t want her aunt upset before they discussed money, and at the moment money was even more important than Clarence Pickering.

“We must discuss the state of your financial affairs, Aunt Gertrude. I know this will be difficult for you, but it must be done,” Emily began, seating herself opposite Gertrude with a large pile of bills on the table between them.

Gertrude’s face fell. “Oh, Emily, dear, I know how distressing all of this must be to you. But you know, darling, your Uncle Ludwig said your nice Mr. Blake told him he was going to try to help us out of our woes.”

A tear zigzagged its way along the wrinkles lining Gertrude’s sweet face, and Emily felt a tremendous tug of guilt. “I’m so sorry to be such trouble to you, Emily.”

“You’re not any trouble, Aunt Gertrude,” Emily said, lying fervently. “It’s just that we must try to work our way through this—this mess, or you’re going to lose your home. You don’t want that to happen, do you?”

“Oh, dear, no. That would be dreadful.” Brightening perceptibly, Gertrude added, “But Ludwig said your dear Mr. Blake told him he would take care of our money troubles, Emily, after the two of you are married.”

The painful gripping in her breast did not allow Emily to respond to her aunt’s cheerful comment at first. She had to swallow hard once or twice and blink her tears back.

“Mr. Tate and I will not be marrying, Aunt,” she whispered at last.

Gertrude’s eyes widened in astonishment. “But Emily, dear, surely you must be wrong. Mr. Blake said he doesn’t have a wife in Arizona, so there’s absolutely no reason for you not to marry him. He seems to be a very nice young man. And even if he did have a wife once, apparently he doesn’t have one any longer. I can’t imagine he would have fibbed about such a thing. And he seemed so sincere when he asked our permission to call on you.”

“He asked to call on me?”

Emily knew better than to try to make sense of the first part of her aunt’s ramble, but she did seize upon Gertrude’s last sentence. So Will had actually gone to the trouble of asking her aunt and uncle, properly, if he could woo her. The very thought made her throat catch.

“Oh, yes, dear. He certainly did. He loves you, Emily dear. He told us so.”

Emily had to look down in a hurry. She didn’t want her aunt to know how close to a fit of tears she was.

“I don’t understand why you say you won’t be married, dear. I’m sure you care for him. At least, you certainly seem to, and I don’t believe you would tease a gentleman about something of such importance. I’m sure we’ve reared you to behave better than that.”

Upon a doleful sniff, Emily said, “Oh, yes, Aunt. You have. But, unfortunately, I have committed a dreadful deceit. I can’t allow Mr. Tate to marry me. It wouldn’t be fair to him.”

Silence reigned for several seconds as Gertrude digested Emily’s confession. At last Gertrude said, “I’m very sorry to hear it, dear. I don’t recall you ever being deceitful before.”

Emily could only shake her head. She was too miserable to speak.

“Don’t you think you could simply apologize to Mr. Blake, Emily darling? He seems like such a fine young man. I’m sure he would understand and forgive you.”

“I can’t tell him, Aunt. I can’t. And if I can’t even forgive myself, how on earth can I expect him to forgive me?”

Although Emily didn’t expect an answer to her question, Gertrude seemed to be trying to think of one. Emily forestalled her by leaning over the table laden with bills and putting a hand on her arm.

“There is no way I can ever tell him of my awful duplicity, Aunt. And the subject is too painful for me to discuss right now. Let’s just understand Mr. Tate will not be taking direct care of your debts, and continue our discussion. Now, it is true,” she added, “that his help with Uncle Ludwig’s dachshund business will undoubtedly assist us a lot, but in the mean time, I’m afraid there is much remaining to be done.”

Gertrude still looked troubled. “Well, all right, dear. But you may rest assured, I shall communicate with Raja Kinjiput about the matter between you and dear Mr. Blake. I’m sure the Raja will give you guidance.”

Emily smiled indulgently at Gertrude. “Thank you, Aunt. I do appreciate your help.”

So Emily and Gertrude spent an hour or more muddling over debts in the parlor. At the end of their time together, Emily was even more depressed and her aunt Gertrude was in tears.

And after Emily had wrestled her aunt’s debts to a stand-still, Gertrude would hear nothing against Clarence Pickering.

The only thing that could drive Emily even closer to the brink of despair was the note from Will Tate, which Blodgett brought her that evening.

“My dearest Emily,” the note read, “I received your letter today, my love, and I want you to know it doesn’t matter to me what you’ve done. I love you. I want to marry you. Please say you will be mine. After last night, how can you doubt we belong together? Please tell me you have changed your mind. We can be married immediately, if it is to your liking, or we can wait. For you, Emily, I will do anything. If you want us to live in San Francisco, even, we can do that. I love you. Will.”

It was all Emily could do to compose her answer to Will’s letter. She gave it to Thomas Crandall’s house boy, who was waiting patiently and didn’t seem at all disconcerted by Emily’s tears.

“I’ll be a toad-eyed son of a bitch!” Will bellowed when he read Emily’s response, which arrived an hour or so after he’d sent his message to her.

Emily had written: “My dearest Will: I love you with all my heart. Please try to understand it is my love for you which prevents me from accepting your proposal of marriage. I have done something unforgivable and used you terribly. I don’t deserve you. Please, please forgive me and know I will always love you. Emily.” The missive was liberally speckled with poorly blotted teardrops.

“Bad news, Will?” Thomas Crandall asked.

Will hurtled his large frame out of his chair and flung himself around the room, snatching up his vest, coat, and hat, and confusing poor Fred. The dog woofed once and then settled back to watch his master in concern.

As Will stomped out of the house, Thomas thought he heard him say, “God damn it, I’m going to make her listen to reason if I have to shake her.”

Thomas shrugged at Fred. Fred just closed his eyes and went back to sleep.