The sea beyond the windows at the Tower House Hotel restaurant sparkled as much as the glassware on the table in front of us. The array of silverware shone on a white damask tablecloth. Small plates of chicken croquettes had been laid in front of us a moment ago by a genteel and unassuming man with a quiet voice. I was glad I’d donned my new wedding garment for the occasion, as every other diner was dressed in their Second Day finest, many of which were styled in the latest fashion.
My glass contained a refreshing mix of carbonated lemonade and cranberry juice over cubes of ice, a drink well suited to this region of cranberry farms. David had indulged in the British favorite of gin with tonic water. But my husband’s drink didn’t appear to be bringing him joy, judging from his serious expression.
“I’ll extract a kiss from thee later for a glimpse into thy thoughts now, husband,” I said gently. “Is it the encounter with thy brother which troubles thee?”
“It is. For one thing, I prayed he would truly reconcile with my mother. His speedy return here tells me he didn’t. In addition, searching for talented girls for a burlesque show does not sound like a respectable occupation. Nay, simply imagine the trouble my brother could get himself into with the fathers of said young ladies. Currie has always been a bit of a rake, consorting with all manner of women and settling with none.”
“I wonder how he carries out his scouting. I certainly hope he doesn’t lurk at schools or other places girls congregate.”
“One might very well ask. As for the shows themselves, some say they are in effect intelligent satires of the upper classes. They’re often creative adaptations of plays by Shakespeare and other greats. Still, the performances are bawdy and often in poor taste.”
“Has thee attended in the past?”
“Yes, when I was a student at Harvard Medical School. My cronies convinced me to go into Boston with them to take in a burlesque show. Once was enough for me.”
“I’m also troubled by Currie’s occupation.” I spoke slowly. “Remember when Aunt Dru told us Frannie was good at picking up songs, and that she was graceful? Being paid to perform on stage could have seemed exciting to the girl. I’m concerned Currie might have somehow encountered Frannie in his search.”
“As much as I hate to admit it, what you suggest is in fact quite probable. I just hope it isn’t true.”
We supped and didn’t mention Currie for some minutes, talking instead about David’s meeting with his colleague, about a lovely passing sailboat, about what President Harrison was up to recently. The waiter arrived to remove our plates.
“Excuse me, my good man,” David said to him. “We earlier spied a handbill for a burlesque show in town. Is it good, respectable entertainment? Worth our while?”
The man shot me a quick look. “I might not call it entirely respectable, no, sir. An attraction for the general populace, it is. But the female performers are, shall we say, rather rudely dressed. Most ladies don’t care to witness such a spectacle.” He stressed the word “ladies.”
“Are local young ladies the performers?” I asked.
The serving man gave a little start. Why? Did he not expect me to speak to him?
He cleared his throat. “Indeed they are. Much to the chagrin of their fathers, I must say. A rather unscrupulous gentleman is the recruiter of late and has been given the boot from more than one household.”
Currie. David and I exchanged a glance.
“If that will be all, I’ll bring out the next course,” the waiter said.
“We thank thee.” I smiled at him.
“It’s as I thought.” David waited until the man had left to speak. “How my brother ever landed in such a disreputable occupation is beyond me.”
I laid my hand on his. “He might still find his way out of it, darling. Consider the possibility, if thee will.”
It took him a moment, but he finally smiled gently. “Have I told you I loved you lately?”
“Not in the last hour, no.” I returned his fond gaze.
“I love you, wife.”
“I love thee, husband.” I straightened my fork. “David, how did Currie end up on the Cape, anyway?”
“I don’t know. It was during the time he wasn’t communicating with us. My father has friends and business associates here, though, which is why he has the Flying Dude subscription. Maybe Currie thought he could find employment with one of them.”
“Speaking of Herbert, it’s curious that Clarinda was able to prevail in causing a family rift with Currie. Did thy father not defend him? Stand up to his wife in the matter?” Currie could have felt abandoned by the very man he’d surely always looked up to.
David spoke slowly. “He tried. But, as you must know, we can never really see into the inner workings of married couples.”
I nodded.
“Father has always doted on my mother. I know she seems cold and imperious at times, but they have had a close partnership for many years. Herbert Dodge is no milquetoast. In the case of Currie, perhaps my father felt he could not push Mother too far.”
Our man delivered our main courses. David had opted for fillet of beef with mushroom sauce, while I’d chosen the sole. I’d ordered it at the Grand Hotel in Amesbury last year and had loved the light treatment of the thin fillets.
After we’d eaten several bites, David asked, “Is yours good?”
“Very. It’s mildly lemony and the cured capers scattered about add a perfect piquant spark. And thy beef?”
“Excellent. Very well prepared, with wine and thyme in the sauce, if I’m not mistaken.” He’d switched to a glass of hearty red wine to accompany his meal and now sipped from it. “Our discussion of Tilly’s interview with the detective was cut short by meeting my brother. Is there more to tell?”
“Edwin is a skilled interrogator. I sensed she was holding something back, not telling him the entire story of her morning fishing. He questioned Aunt Dru, too, separately, of course. They both appeared upset at Edwin’s suggestion that Frannie was pregnant, but neither actually answered his question about what they knew of her condition.”
“It seems both Miss Tilly and Miss Dru are quite busy with their own lives, what with their library duties and Tilly’s fishing. I wonder how much time Frannie spent at tag tying. Not being in school, she must have had plentiful free time in which to do as she wished.”
“Yes.” I took another sip of my sweet, tangy drink. “Dru also mentioned to the detective that she’d found an ale bottle behind their shed on Seventh Day and seemed think it proved Reuben Baxter had been at the house.”
“Their shed is quite near the train tracks, is it not? Any vagrant could have tossed the bottle there and no one the wiser.”
“I expect the detective immediately thought the same.” I let out a noisy breath. “Oh, David. Talking about murder and wicked shenanigans is not what I imagined we’d be discussing during our first week of marriage.”
“Then let’s speak no more of it this evening. I could talk until the cows come home about your beautiful brown eyes, the roses in your cheeks, and your perfect shape.”
I laughed lightly. “That won’t be necessary.”
We did manage to avoid touching on anything the least bit unpleasant for the rest of our dinner and our short ride home on the train. It didn’t mean the unpleasantness had gone away.