The next day Mother appeared in the doorway of Samuel’s room and summoned Ada away from his bedside into the hall. “You heard John’s orders that Samuel must stay here with us for a while?”
“Is that all right with you?”
Her gaze strayed toward the bed where Samuel lay motionless. “It’s obviously a complication.”
That was not a word Ada would choose. “Helping someone in need is not a complication. Would you rather we left Samuel injured on the street?”
“Don’t get huffy with me, daughter. I’m simply stating the obvious, that with you on the cusp of being engaged to Owen, the sudden presence of your old beau is awkward.”
She was right, of course, and that rightness annoyed Ada. “Be that as it may, I’m willing to deal with the awkwardness in order to do the right thing. Owen is a kind man. He’ll understand.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” Ada said, though she was not sure. Owen was a dear, but would he be put off by the situation?
Yet why would it be a problem? Samuel had spurned her, humiliated her by choosing his calling over her love and by not trusting her to be a part of it. No one understood how he could choose poverty over a privileged life. She also assumed that most people thought he left her because she simply wasn’t enough for him. But now … the Wallaces had chosen to help the man who’d wounded her so badly, and were doctoring him and nursing him back to health. Wouldn’t that cause her society friends to look at her family with respect? Wasn’t it proof they’d risen above the pain?
It wasn’t as if she was still in love with him.
In spite of her protests, Mother insisted Ada go with Owen to Carrie Astor’s party that evening. On the carriage ride there, she considered telling Owen about Samuel, but since he was in such a jolly mood—talking about a new shipment his family’s business had received from China—she’d been content to let him ramble on.
Once in the midst of the party, she decided a group announcement might be the easiest. She did have to say something, for if word got out otherwise—and servants did talk—the gossip would be far worse than the reality.
And so, after they’d taken turns playing the piano and entertaining each other with witticisms and song, she told a small group of her friends. “I had an exciting day yesterday.”
“Do tell,” Carrie said. “For lately, the most exciting thing to happen to me was finding a blue ribbon I thought I’d lost.”
Ada scanned the faces of the group, ending with Owen, standing beside her. She told them of her shopping expedition gone awry—leaving out Samuel’s identity. For now.
“So you have that man at your house? Sleeping in one of your beds?”
“The accident was partially my fault,” she explained. “John and I couldn’t very well leave him on the street.”
David Gould shook his head. “Five Points, you say? I wouldn’t let my worst enemy visit that area.”
Because Samuel lived there, she downplayed its worst qualities. “It’s run-down, for certain, but there were a lot of people selling their wares in pushcarts, and—”
Maribelle Morgan made a face. “You didn’t buy anything from them, did you? I mean, who would want to touch such things?”
“No, I didn’t get around to buying anything.” She thought of the children who’d swarmed around her. “I will admit it was sad to see the children trying to earn a few pennies by selling scraps of coal or wood. They were so desperate.”
“Where are their parents?” Carrie asked. “And shouldn’t they be in school?”
“I’m not sure they have parents,” Ada said. “Or a school to go to.”
Thomas Fairfield removed a piece of lint from his trousers and let it fall to its death on the carpet. “Then they should get jobs. The garment industry employs children. Let them earn their keep.” He dismissed the subject of the children with a flip of his hand. “Enough of them. When can you be rid of the man?”
Ada hated their attitude. Surely they wouldn’t have left an injured man on the street.
“I think it’s marvelous you took him in,” Owen said, with a hand on her arm. “We are to give generously to the poor and help the helpless. You and John are Good Samaritans.”
Maribelle wasn’t satisfied. “But a stranger in your house …”
It was time for the whole truth. “Actually … the man is not a stranger.”
Oscar laughed. “You know someone in Five Points?”
“I know Samuel Alcott.” She turned to Owen, offering him her full attention. “Samuel is recuperating in our house.”
It took them a moment to react. “The man who was hurt is Samuel? Your Samuel?” Carrie asked.
Owen’s eyes locked on Ada’s, obviously needing reassurance. “But he’s not her Samuel anymore.”
“No, he’s not,” she told him quietly.
“No, of course he’s not,” Carrie said. “Silly me. But it is Samuel?”
“One and the same.” She was glad to break her gaze with Owen. He did care that it was Samuel. Oh dear.
Maribelle fanned herself, as if wanting the whole notion to flutter far, far away. “But Samuel hurt you so horribly, Ada. How can you bring him into your home?”
The respect she’d yearned for was obviously not going to be offered.
“How the mighty have fallen,” David said, shaking his head.
“He hasn’t fallen,” Ada said. “Samuel is a good man who simply chose a way of life that’s beyond our understanding.”
“But he hurt you,” Carrie said. “Surely you haven’t forgiven him?”
Ada felt her heart start to race. Had she forgiven him?
Her own doubt caused her ire to rise even more. “Instead of focusing on the past, I thought you’d focus on the present, on the needs of a friend. I guess I was mistaken.”
“Come now, Ada,” Thomas said. “You must admit the entire situation is rather odd and a bit …”
“Scandalous,” Maribelle said. When no one responded, she scanned the group, ending with Thomas. “Don’t look at me like that. Isn’t that what you were going to say?”
“I was going to say ‘unfortunate.’”
Maribelle’s fan fluttered furiously. “My statement stands. Not that Samuel Alcott would care whether he caused a scandal or not. He’s already shown a total disregard for society and propriety by abandoning his birthright, disregarding his grandfather’s wishes, and breaking the heart of my friend. What goes around comes around.”
Ada was fuming inside. “Are you implying he deserved to get hurt?”
Maribelle reddened. “I … I’m just saying he put himself in that horrible neighborhood, so what did he expect?”
“He did not expect my family’s carriage to detour onto a busy street and cause congestion, upheaval, and injury.” She handed her champagne glass to a nearby footman. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go home to see if there is some way I can repair the damage I’ve caused.”
With that, she moved to the front door with Owen rushing after her.
“I’m sorry for cutting our evening short,” Ada told Owen when they were in the carriage.
“No apologies necessary. But in our friends’ defense … they were simply surprised at your news.” He paused a moment, then added, “As was I.”
She took his gloved hand in hers. “I should have told you in private. Forgive me.”
He shrugged. “So what does Samuel have to say for himself? Where has he been this past year? What has he been doing?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t spoken. He’s sleeping most of the time, and when he awakens, he’s delirious.”
“Oh. That’s too bad.”
But by the tone of Owen’s voice, Ada could tell he was relieved.
Once home, Ada went to Samuel’s room, knocked gently, and, receiving no answer, went inside. The lamp was still burning beside the bed, and John was asleep in a chair.
She stood over Samuel and watched his chest rise and fall. If only he would awaken and know her.
But what would she say to him? How would she greet him?
As a friend?
Or … as something more?
She kissed her fingers and pressed them to his hair, leaving the answer to another day.