Chapter 3

 

 

Chicago, Illinois – June 28, 1878

B lythe pressed her hand against her stomach to quell her nerves. Her bouts of nausea had begun to ease up, but she knew that was not the cause of this day’s queasiness. Mrs. Stapleton ordered her to come to her private office. Tomorrow is payday. Why does she wish to see me today? Blythe smoothed her apron and tugged her clothing in place. Do not put your hands at your waist or touch your stomach. Do nothing to draw attention to the fact your waist is thicker now than it was a month ago.

As usual, once Blythe stood in the presence of her employer, the woman, seated at her secretary desk, turned to face her. She did not offer Blythe a seat in the chair placed at the side. “You wished to see me, Mrs. Stapleton?”

“Yes, Blythe. As you are probably aware, my son is due home with his fiancée next Monday. Are his rooms and the guest room I decided to put her in ready?”

“Yes, ma’am. The rooms have been aired out, floors scrubbed and waxed, and the bedding changed. All that will be needed is for them to be dusted and fresh flowers put in the vases just before they arrive.”

“And the rest of the floor has been taken care of?”

“Yes, ma’am. Other than making beds, straightening things around, and adding flowers where needed, all is caught up. My plans for this afternoon were to thoroughly clean the upstairs bathing room.”

“Good.” Edith Stapleton glanced at Blythe’s mid-section and pursed her lips. “As much as I regret doing this, Blythe, I will be terminating your employment effective this evening.”

“I-I see.” No, she did not see. The tears welled up in her eyes. Why do I weep so easily lately?

“I have been pleased with your work these past years. However, that does not excuse—misconduct.”

“There has been no misconduct on my part.” Blythe knew harshness colored her words. Never before would she have snapped at her employer using such a tone. However, Mrs. Stapleton had no right to put the blame on Blythe. Her son forced her in spite of Blythe’s every attempt to thwart him from catching her alone or keeping him out of her attic room. It’s not fair.

Mrs. Stapleton pressed her lips even tighter and lifted her chin. “Be that as it may, I cannot keep you here any longer. Appearances, you understand. In addition, with my son’s fiancée coming, I cannot tolerate any temptation on anyone’s part while she is here.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Blythe softened her voice and lowered her gaze to the floor. She knows.

Edith turned in her chair and focused on the paper in front of her. “I am in the process of writing out a letter of recommendation for you.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” The recommendation might prove valuable after the baby came and she was again in a position to seek employment. However, even if she hid her pregnancy for now, within a month or two, it would be obvious to whoever employed her. They would let her go. Most young women in her position fell back on family until their baby was born. Blythe had no living family to whom she could turn.

“Do you have somewhere you can go, Blythe—perhaps somewhere away from the city?” Edith Stapleton kept her focus on the page on which she wrote.

“No, ma’am. My father died in the war, and my mother passed shortly before I sought the position in your home.” She recalled how she arrived at the Stapleton home right after Wendell, Jr. left for military academy. He stayed away except for the summer two years ago when he returned and got the scullery maid, Sadie, with child. Foolish Sadie welcomed his attention until she realized he cared nothing for her. After he left, she was cast out on her own.

“You will need somewhere to go, Blythe.” Mrs. Stapleton shook her head. “Surely, you realized it was only a matter of time before you needed to leave here. Where do you plan to go?”

The softness that entered her employer’s voice suggested the woman held some empathy for her plight. Pressing a fist to her lips, Blythe looked off to the side. Dare I tell her? She swallowed. “I realized, ma’am. Once I began to receive your son’s unwelcome attention, I sought out matrimonial advertisements and began corresponding. I originally hoped I might receive an offer from a promising prospect before…” Blythe sucked in a breath. “After wading through all the fortune-hunters, I found three interested in a wife who only had her companionship and labor to offer.”

Edith twisted her lips. “Hopefully, you had the sense to pass yourself off as a widow.”

Blythe nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Unfortunately, two of the men, once I told them I had a child on the way, broke off our correspondence. I have not told the third one yet. He has offered marriage, but we must wait on certain conditions.”

Edith set her pen down and turned in her chair to face Blythe. “Please sit, Blythe.” She motioned to the chair next to her desk.

“Yes, ma’am.” Keeping her back straight, Blythe sat on the edge of the chair. She folded her hands and stared across the room.

Edith interlaced her fingers and rested the sides of her hands on the corner of her desk. “Now, please tell me about this third option. When were you planning to tell me you would be leaving?”

Blythe looked down at her lap and swallowed. “As soon as I knew he was sending train tickets and travel money, I planned to tell you the next time I was paid. I…um…I was not sure how you would take my giving notice. I’ve heard of some employers who become so angry when someone leaves their employ, they refuse to pay what is owed.”

“I would not do that, Blythe. Withhold a letter of recommendation, perhaps, but I would pay for the work already performed. Now, where does your future husband live? If he has already asked for your hand, and you have accepted, why has he not yet sent for you?”

Her words coming haltingly, Blythe explained about Sgt. Peter McGilvey and how he waited for her application as a laundress to be approved so he could receive permission to marry her. When she finished, she turned her gaze to her employer to gauge her reaction.

Wearing a doubtful expression, Edith met Blythe’s gaze. “It does not sound overly promising to me. Where did you say this man is stationed?”

“Fort Fred Steele. It’s in western Wyoming Territory along the Union Pacific tracks.”

“Oh, my.” Edith bit her lip. “In case this laundress job falls through, is there a town nearby where you can live?”

Once her employer said the words out loud, Blythe realized she also feared things might not work out and she would be stuck in Wyoming Territory. Unfortunately, she had no other good options other than to accept the sergeant as her husband. She shook her head. “The commander refuses to allow any towns or dwellings within three miles of the fort. The next nearest town is a place called Rawlins. Sgt. McGilvey said it’s one of the main terminus towns and employs several rail workers. It’s also the county seat, but I’m sure it’s nowhere near the size of Chicago.”

Edith turned her head and stared at the wall behind her desk. “I’ve heard those railroad towns are fairly uncivilized. However, if it is the county seat, there must be some decent society there.” She narrowed her eyes and picked up her pen, the top of which she tapped against her lips several times. “When was the last time you heard from this sergeant?”

“Two weeks ago, ma’am. I sent a return letter in the next day’s mail. I hope to receive a reply from him today or tomorrow.”

Edith set her pen on the desk then leaned back in her chair. She placed her hands flat on her desk surface. “I cannot wait for him to send you the tickets. I need you away from here before my son and his fiancée return.” She twisted her neck until her gaze met Blythe’s. “Here is what I intend. This evening, before you leave, I will pay you your wages earned thus far, plus an additional month’s wages. Don’t flash it around or tell people, or you will find yourself surrounded with those who will be quick to separate you from it.”

Upon hearing that her soon-to-be former employer intended to pay her extra, Blythe blinked several times, and her lips quivered. “Thank you, ma’am. It will help.” I’ll keep it in my boots.

“I will also purchase your ticket to this Rawlins place.” Edith fluttered a hand next to her face. “If you wish to stay in Chicago for a short time with the hope that you will receive positive news and tickets from your sergeant, that is your choice.” She raised her eyebrows. “Do you have someone in the city who will take you in tonight, or will you need to rent a room?”

Blythe squeezed her eyes shut. I’ve lost contact with almost everyone I knew. “I have a childhood friend I’ve kept in touch with. I could probably stay with her a week or so, but not much longer.”

“Does she know about your…predicament?”

Blythe bowed her head and shook it. Another reason for not staying with her too long. “I’ve spoken of it to no one, not even the other servants here.”

“That’s good. Please keep it that way.” Edith pursed her lips and shook her head. “Although there might be a couple who have figured it out like I did, don’t encourage them to gossip about it. Just tell anyone who asks why you left my employ that you plan to marry soon.”

“Yes, ma’am.” It’s not like I have many good choices.

“Hopefully, you will receive tickets from this future husband of yours this weekend or in your next letter from him. If so, you may then cash in the tickets I will give you. If not, I need you to use them. Don’t wait too long, though, and run out of money to live on. Besides, although I expect my son to be on his best behavior while Miss Bennett is here, once she returns to her parents’ home on the twelfth, who knows whether or not he’ll seek to locate you. If you don’t want to go to Wyoming, at least, go far away. I don’t want you still in Chicago by then. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Mrs. Stapleton. I appreciate the extra consideration.” Again, Blythe felt tears threaten to fill her eyes. She had done nothing wrong, yet she was the one being fired from her job and banished from the city that had been her lifelong home. Why am I thanking her? Then again, she knew the answer. Mrs. Stapleton did not need to do anything to help her. She had every right to fire her and send her on her way with only the wages owed.

“Good.” Edith turned to face her desk and picked up the pen once more. She tapped the writing surface as she stared in front of her. “I hope you know, Blythe, this situation brings me no joy. I’m aware my son, like many young men, has a…shall we say…wild streak in him. It is my plan to hurry this engagement along and see him safely married by Christmas. I’m sure he will then settle down.”

Blythe clenched her back teeth and forced her face to stay expressionless. The man’s a drunk and a lecher. Wife or not, he’ll never change.

Edith faced Blythe once more, her words so soft that they were barely audible. “You have no idea how much I look forward to having grandchildren I can claim. I cannot acknowledge your child, Blythe, even if I want to. You do understand that, don’t you?” Edith shook her head as her gaze took on a far-off look of sorrow. “You need to follow through with your plan to represent yourself as a widow and marry someone who will welcome this child into his family. I wish you success, but other than what I am doing for you now, I can do no more. You must never contact us again.”

Blythe felt a heaviness weigh her down as if threatening to press her into the floor. “Yes, ma’am. I understand.” I would rather die than to have anything to do with Wendell, Jr. again.

“I need to contact Henry to prepare the carriage. I have some business to attend to.” Edith Stapleton inhaled and forced a smile. She stiffly rose to her feet as if some nefarious monster had attacked her joints in an effort to prevent their movement. “I’ll let you finish with the bathing room. After that, I’ll leave orders for Cook to send someone up to your room with an early supper tray so you can eat and finish packing your things. Please try to have everything ready to leave by six o’clock and meet me back here. I’ll have your money and tickets by then.”