Clara and I were so disappointed to discover that our long-lost great-aunt was a bitter old woman, so different from our vivacious, generous Violet. Her lingering resentment and cold reaction had surprised us both and left us feeling subdued.
We walked for a while until we found a neighborhood garden several blocks away and sat together on a park bench to talk about what had just happened. We couldn’t believe how rude Margaret had been, even with Violet’s warning to us before we’d left. She’d anticipated the difficulty we would face with her estranged sister. She wasn’t wrong.
“I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but I’d hoped for a little more forgiveness on Margaret’s part,” Clara said. “Do you think she’ll even read the letter? I have a horrible feeling she’ll throw it in the fire.”
“Me too,” I replied. “She still blames Violet for having ‘nearly ruined’ her career but did you see all the certificates on the wall? Margaret has been honored at least half a dozen times from various music halls,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“It’s so disappointing,” Clara agreed. “This whole thing has gone on far too long. Violet is dying! What possible reason could Margaret have to still not want to forgive and forget?”
I rubbed my hands together for warmth. It was cloudy, and much colder than it had been yesterday. I was glad Clara had insisted I wear my overcoat.
“I think we should go back tomorrow,” I said. “Try again. We might get a better response after she’s had time to read Violet’s letter.”
Clara shook her head. “It will probably be more of the same. Or worse. Maybe it’s just too late for her to change.”
“But it may not be,” I pressed. “And I don’t want to go home to Violet without trying every last option. Even if it’s awkward and uncomfortable.”
A crisp breeze stirred the tender new leaves on the trees around us.
“Are you sure you’re warm enough?” Clara asked. “I don’t want you to get sick again.”
“I’m fine!” I brushed off her concern but was secretly glad for it. It had been a long time since someone had fussed over me the way Clara did.
“Alright,” Clara said at last. “Let’s try again tomorrow. Maybe once the shock of seeing us has passed, Margaret will be more open to talking with us.”
“Exactly.” I stood up as a church bell across the park chimed noon. “For now, I’m going to meet Daniel for lunch. And I might pay Mr. Klein a visit after,” I added.
Clara let out a long sigh. “I wish I could come with you, but I can’t put this off any longer, can I?”
I shook my head. “No. You can’t.”
Her rendezvous with Charles weighed as heavily on my mind as I knew it did on hers. I presumed someone in his office had told him about my article, even if he hadn’t seen it yet. He wouldn’t hold back his anger, and neither would Clara when she found out about it. I bit my lip. This was my last chance to tell her.
“Clara, there’s something I need to say before you meet Charles.”
She pulled her coat collar up as a light rain began to fall. “Well, hurry up and tell me then before we both get soaked—again!”
She looked so pretty in her red hat, and so sure of herself, despite her nerves. If I told her now, she might not go through with her confrontation with Charles. I hesitated. Maybe now wasn’t the time.
“I can go with you. If you need me to,” I offered, scrambling for something to say. “It might be easier if I’m there. Less . . . emotional?”
It wasn’t the worst idea. If Charles did know about the article, I was more than ready to defend myself against him and to explain my reasons to Clara.
She took a deep breath. “Thank you, but this is something I need to do on my own.”
“If you’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
We parted with a hug for encouragement. I held on to her a moment longer than usual, wrapping a silent apology around her for what she was about to discover. We rushed off then in opposite directions as the rain began to fall in earnest.
* * *
WHEN I ARRIVED back at the hotel, somewhat worse for wear from the weather, and with damp feet, I found Daniel waiting for me in the lobby.
“Is everything alright?” he asked, concern in his eyes. I was both comforted and a little alarmed at how well he was able to read my expressions. How well he already seemed to know me. “Did you meet Margaret?”
“Oh, we met Margaret,” I said as I shook out my coat.
He steered me to a chair beside a large open fireplace in the restaurant lobby and ordered a hot cup of tea. Somehow, he always knew what to do without asking.
I recounted the way Margaret had behaved and how upsetting it would be to tell Violet we’d been unable to get through to her sister.
“I feel like we’ve failed.” I sighed. “That we’re letting her down.”
“She sounds like a bitter old woman. Perhaps it’s too late to change her mind about things.”
“Apparently so,” I said, relaxing a little as the tea wound a warm path through my body. “At least we were able to find Grandpa Frank’s grave and deliver her message to Matthias, so it hasn’t all been a waste. And I have a dozen new ideas for articles. I’ll be busy when I go home.”
He looked disappointed. “Yes, you’ll be busy.”
I had the distinct feeling I’d said something wrong. I looked down as I moved the teacup around on its saucer.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“Starved.”
“Me too.”
We decided to dine at a cozy little tavern across from the hotel. Over a steaming plate of fried schnitzel covered in a thick, rich gravy, Daniel explained where he’d been all morning.
“I met with Charles. He insisted on speaking in person after receiving my telegram. I thought it would be the professional thing to do, so I agreed.”
I paused, setting my fork on the edge of the plate. The food had done me some good and I was able to put the events with Margaret out of my mind for the moment. “And?”
“He did his best to talk me out of resigning.”
“Of course he did. He’s persistent. Always seems to get what he wants.”
Daniel nodded. “He threatened to withhold a letter of recommendation, but I called his bluff. At any rate, thanks to my experience before I joined his firm, I should be able to find another position, with or without his help.”
“Well, anyone would be lucky to have you.”
A smile crossed his face. “Even you?”
I made an uncomfortable sound that was something between a cough and a laugh.
He reached for my hand and covered it with his. “You’ve come to mean a great deal to me, Maddie. I hope you know that. When we return to New York, I’d like to see you. We could have dinner, or go to museums, see movies. I’ll meet you for lunch on Newspaper Row if you can fit me in between important meetings! What do you say?”
My stomach churned at his directness, but I smiled and tapped the half-empty glass in front of me. “Oh come now, a lady never makes promises. Why don’t we wait and see.”
He shrugged, as if my reply was fine, and ordered two more beers from a passing waiter, but I hadn’t missed his look of disappointment.
Somewhere inside me, I knew that if I couldn’t allow myself to trust this thing developing between us I would regret it. And yet. I still couldn’t bring myself to say the words he wanted me to say. Not today, not now.
“I have some other news,” he said, changing the subject, his tone becoming more serious. “I was waiting for the right time to tell you.”
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense. What is it?”
“Charles knows about your article. His secretary sent an urgent telegram to his hotel.” His expression changed. I saw concern in his eyes. “He is absolutely furious, Maddie.”
“Good. He brought it on himself,” I said, sticking out my chin stubbornly. “I did nothing wrong. I merely reported what I’d discovered. If he doesn’t want articles written about him, he should stop being such a . . .” I stopped, realizing my tone was acidic, and it shouldn’t be directed at Daniel.
“You’re right,” he said, holding up his hands. “If Charles doesn’t want negative press, he should behave accordingly.” He leaned forward. “Have you told Clara?”
I shook my head, and a rising wave of panic washed over me. Once again, I’d put my relationship with her in the crosshairs.
“I have to go,” I said, standing suddenly. “I need to tell Clara right now, before he does.”
I rushed for the door and raced to the Hotel Brauner, with one thought on my mind: talk to my sister before Charles Hancock got to her first.