Thursday morning, December 30, 1880
“Miss Laura, are you sure this is a good idea?” Kathleen trotted to keep up with Laura’s long stride.
“Yes I do. I think your idea of stopping by Mrs. Ashburton’s house with some soup and soft rolls was excellent. At the very least, if your suspicions turn out to be unfounded, the poor woman will get a decent meal.”
“But I think we should wait until the mistress comes back tomorrow morning.”
“Oh fiddlesticks! Why should Annie always have all the fun investigating things. Furthermore, if it turns out that this Rafe Ashburton is some sort of hoodlum who’s mistreating his aged mother, better that we find out as quickly as possible.”
Kathleen wished that Mrs. O’Rourke hadn’t taken Mary Margaret with her this morning on her grocery shopping trip, leaving little Tilly to finish up the breakfast dishes. She felt sure the housekeeper would have squashed this plan in a hurry if she heard about it. At the very least, Mary Margaret would have insisted she be the one to accompany Laura…which right now sounded like a good idea to Kathleen.
“But what if he doesn’t let us in?” Kathleen asked as they waited to cross at the corner of Ellis, being careful not to spill the crock of soup in her basket when they stepped down into the street. There was always beef soup stock simmering on the stove top in the winter and soft rolls left-over from breakfast, so it hadn’t taken but a moment to put together the basket. Laura needed to be at work in an hour, so she wouldn’t hear of waiting until Mrs. O’Rourke returned.
“Well, even if all he does is take the basket from us to get us to leave, we would now have an excuse to come back for it, and maybe we will have better luck the next time.”
Kathleen felt a wave of relief. Perhaps that would be what happened. And she did want to get a chance to at least look at this Rafe Ashburton. Mrs. Kantor, Officer Stanley, and the grocery and butcher delivery boys, all described him as rather a dandy. Clean-shaven, except for a small mustache, hair cut very short, well-dressed, at least according to the delivery boys, who said he was wearing a silk vest and cravat, with a diamond stick pin. Not someone who looked like some down-on-his-luck prodigal son, and certainly not the scruffy ruffian Mary Margaret had described him being the first night when he threw her out. However, even Mary Margaret admitted he cleaned up well after she saw him when she tried to deliver Mrs. Ashburton’s medicine yesterday. But her friend said that a man could change his appearance with a good barbering, but could not change his character. “Handsome is as handsome does,” she’d said, not for the first time.
After a heavily laden wagon crossed Ellis in front of them, Laura led the way across the street, saying, “So did Patrick give you your birthday present last night?”
“Oh miss, he did. Did you know about the earrings?”
“We all did. He asked Annie if she had any ideas about a month ago. When she asked him what he was thinking about spending, not wanting to suggest something he couldn’t afford, he named an amount that she knew would cover the earrings that matched the pin they were giving you.”
“They go perfectly together. I never thought to own anything so splendid as the pin, and now to have earrings to match!”
“I must say, although I have no use for a beau right now, I think it’s nice that Patrick was willing buy something good enough for you to pass on to one of your daughters one day.”
Kathleen hadn’t thought of it quite that way. The pin and earrings were…heirlooms? Not like the few bits and pieces of cheap jewelry she’d bought herself over the years. Her mistress might have even chosen the pin for her because she herself had so little left from her mother. Just two plain blue jugs and an old clock. Everything else of value from her family she’d lost when her first husband went bankrupt.
“This is the house, isn’t it?” Laura asked, walking up the short flight of steps to stand on the small landing and turn the old-fashioned knob that would ring the front bell. “Should we have gone around to the back, tried the kitchen door first?”
“Oh, no. Not if you want to convince him that you are not some servant trying to pretend to be a lady. Besides, this way Mrs. Ashburton will be sure to hear the bell and know someone has come to call.”
Laura impatiently twirled the knob again, sending the bell inside the hallway to clanging. Abruptly the door opened, and a man, fitting the description of Rafe Ashburton, stood there glowering. He looked a good deal older than Kathleen expected, but he was definitely handsome. His hair was black as coal, his eyebrows thick and slanted over deep-set gray eyes, and he was wearing what looked like a new black suit, a gold watch chain gleaming across a red silk vest. Very much the dandy, but a dandy who was unhappy to find two women at his door.
However, as his eyes swept over Laura, from her cunningly decorated hat, along her good brown coat that hugged her curves, to her well-polished button-up shoes with the french heels, he began to grin.
Laura stood straighter under his stare and gave him a warm smile. “You must be Mr. Ashburton. When our delivery boy mentioned that you’d come to take care of your mother, who was poorly, I said to my cook, ‘I must be a good neighbor and take her some of your famous beef broth.’”
Here she gracefully pointed at the basket Kathleen was holding and said, “My maid will be glad to pop into your kitchen to make sure it’s heated up properly, while I see if your mother has any errands she would like me to run.”
Rafe Ashburton frowned at this and started to speak, but Laura continued, running right over whatever he’d planned to say.
“I won’t take no for an answer. My mother was one of your mother’s best friends from All Saints Episcopal Church.” Laura then laughed and said rather breathlessly, “I confess I’m rather intrigued to make the acquaintance of her handsome son, who has been off seeing the world these past ten years or so.”
Kathleen couldn’t believe how bold Laura was being. But it worked. The man smiled even more broadly and said, “Well, I might have come back to San Francisco sooner if I’d known All Saints had such handsome members.”
“Oh, Mr. Ashburton, my mother was the church-goer. I prefer more lively ways to spend my Sundays. Perhaps taking a carriage ride down to the Cliff House, or attending one of the horse races at Bay View?”
“Well, well, young lady. That sounds like a very good idea. Why don’t you come calling on my mother this next Sunday afternoon, and we can find something fun to do afterwards?”
Kathleen didn’t know whether to be impressed or frightened by the way Laura was shamelessly flirting with the man. It was like watching a play, but Mr. Nate would be upset to see his sister act this way. However, it seemed to be working.
The man motioned for them to enter.
As they passed by him, Kathleen got a strong whiff of alcohol, and she knew from painful experience it wasn’t a good sign that they were dealing with a man who was already inebriated at ten in the morning.
Miss doesn’t seem to know what she’s gotten us into.
“Miss Laura, we mustn’t stay. He’s been drinking,” Kathleen whispered urgently as soon as the man left them alone in the front parlor of the house, which smelled heavily of cigar smoke.
“You noticed that as well, did you? I wonder why he’s pretending there’s still a servant in the house?”
Ashburton had taken the basket from Kathleen, saying he’d take it to the maid who was busy preparing morning tea for his mother. Then he disappeared down the hallway.
Kathleen said, “One look at this room and you can tell that’s not true.” She looked with some disgust at the ash spilling out of the fireplace, the holiday greenery that was turning brown, and the bottle and glass stains on the table beside one of the upholstered chairs.
“I am equally sure he’s not going to let us see his mother,” Laura added, going over to a dusty sideboard where there were rows of pictures. “Didn’t you say you wished you could get a photograph of him to show to Patrick? Look, here’s a good likeness of him with his parents and sister.”
Kathleen looked briefly at the small silver-framed photograph of a couple and two young people that Laura was holding. The young man in the photograph, with his dark hair swept back, and his thin mustache, certainly looked like a younger edition of the man they’d just met.
“Oh, miss, we can’t take this. What if he notices it’s gone?”
“I doubt he’d notice anything, the state of this room. Shush, I hear him coming.”
And quick as a flash, the photograph, frame and all, disappeared into Laura’s purse.