A Song Across the Sea (36 page)

“You’re cold.” Back on the ground, Reece wrapped a blanket around her shoulders before they got back into the motor car. “We’d better get you home. I think I can talk Delores into making some hot chocolate for us.”

Bumping along the rough roads, he kept looking over at her worriedly. She was so quiet. Not like herself at all.

“Were you afraid?” he asked tentatively.

She shook her head.

“Would you… Would you like to go again?”

She sighed, a beatific smile on her face. “Oh, yes.” She was too full of feeling for words.

Reece caught the look and understood instantly. Tara knew. Tara felt it. He relaxed his grip on the steering wheel and they continued the ride home in contented silence.

•  •  •

It was grand to be back at the boarding house. Grander still to be there with her
husband
.

Kathleen’s marital status was soon to change, too. She showed Tara the engagement ring given her by a contrite James. The tawdry episode with Sheila had apparently brought him to his senses and moved him to action. Kathleen and James now spent Sunday afternoons riding through Central Park on a tandem bicycle—the long-ago birthday present.

Sitting at the breakfast table beside Reece, her husband, Tara sometimes blushed to think that the others might guess at what went on between the two of them at night. She was not the same naive girl she’d been when she first set foot in America, that was sure. Her daring and abandon with Reece astonished her and delighted him. As close as they were during the daylight hours, they found an even closer bond in the long, lingering hours of the night. Tara’s early shyness vanished quickly. She loved exploring his body with her hands and her questing mouth, relished making him gasp with pleasure. He was equally concerned with her enjoyment. Even when overtaken by desire he was gentle and giving with her, making her feel as if she were something precious.

His leave-taking came all too soon. They stood on the dock together, clinging to each other and watching the aged transport ship he’d be traveling on being loaded with supplies for the Allied countries. He brought a small red case from his pocket and handed it to her. Fighting for control, she opened it.

Amethyst teardrop earrings set in gold nestled in the black velvet-lined interior of the case.

“Delores helped me pick them out. Do you like them?”

“They’re lovely,” she choked out.

“Will you write to me?”

“As if you even have to ask that. Oh, Reece,” she cried out desperately. “I don’t think I can bear your leavin’.”

He kissed away a tear that was sliding down her cheek. “When I come back, we’ll have the whole rest of our lives together. I’ll never let myself be separated from you again. I’d be a fool to.”

•  •  •

Tara returned to the Millinder mansion and took up her maid’s duties again, but with a new, secret joy. The tedium was infinitely more tolerable than in the past, because there’d be an end to it when Reece came home. She dared not tell the other girls that she was married, and to Adrienne Millinder’s son, no less! Sheila alone knew.

She hoped for a chance to speak again with Mrs. Millinder. Perhaps she could find a surreptitious way to orchestrate peace between mother and son. She would watch for an opportunity.

Her mind was wrestling with the problem early one morning upon awakening when she was distracted by a harsh, unpleasant noise. The other maids were still asleep in their beds, but Sheila’s was empty.

She found her cousin in the bathroom down the hallway, crying and retching into a basin. The simple white shift Sheila wore revealed something that filled Tara with dread.

Sheila was going to have a baby.

•  •  •

“I wanted to tell you. I did. But I was hoping that…that Webb would marry me before you had to know about it.”

“What are Webb’s intentions?”

Sheila shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears. “He
has
no intentions, Tara! He’s gone, he is. Found some work on a ship. Very convenient for him.” She hung her head in misery and shame. “He said I was a stupid girl, to let this happen, and he wanted nothin’ more to do with me. He was right! I know you didn’t think much of him, but I thought I loved the man. Can you understand that?”

“I can.” Poor Sheila. As aggravating as the girl could be at times, Tara felt only pity for her at this moment.

Sheila sniffed noisily. “What are we going to do about it, Tara? About the baby?”

So that was the way of it. After being spurned for so long, Tara was now a valued advisor. Carrying a child was making Sheila childlike herself. The impudence and rebelliousness were gone. The tear-streaked face she turned toward Tara was pleading, filled with remorse. Just like that, she expected her older cousin to take charge.

Tara heaved a troubled sigh and sat down on a stool next to the basin. What, indeed, were they going to do?

“There’s a doctor in the Bowery, I’m told, who takes care of girls who get themselves in trouble,” Sheila offered without conviction.

“Never!”

“It’s not what I want, anyway. I just don’t see how I can manage havin’ a baby alone.”

“You won’t be alone.” Tara would never abandon her cousin, but she needed Sheila to understand the harsh realities ahead of her. An unmarried woman—girl, really—having a baby would be shunned, made to feel ashamed. The bastard child would fare little better, and be subject to cruel taunts as he or she grew up. Could Sheila find another man to marry her before the baby came? It wasn’t likely. No decent man would have her now. She might never marry at all. There’d be no respectable career for her; her education was over. Once her condition became evident, which would be soon, she’d be forced to leave school. She couldn’t take a job and care for a baby at the same time.

For just a moment, Tara entertained the idea of giving the baby up for adoption, then moving Sheila to another city where no one knew her and where she could start her life anew. If she could be sure of a loving family for the baby it might worth considering, but she knew that most children in orphanages never found such a happy future, and the orphanages themselves were dreadful: filthy and staffed with riffraff, poorly funded and overflowing with unwanted children. There were so many orphans in New York that the city had begun putting them on trains and sending them out west, to the vast open states, where, if they couldn’t find adoptive homes, they could find jobs on ranches and farms. Pint-sized laborers, doing hard manual work when they should be playing, she thought grimly, shaking her head at the appalling notion. That would not happen to Sheila’s baby. Not as long as Tara drew breath.

A baby was a gift from God, no matter the circumstances.

“I wanted to tell you before,” Sheila said, her lower lip quivering. “But then you got married, and you were so happy. I didn’t want to spoil things.”

Moved, Tara stood up and hugged Sheila.

“Hush, now. It’ll be all right. We’ll figure it all out, we will.”

She’d been so fortunate, finding Reece again. Her own bliss made her feel that much more compassion for Sheila.

“You’ll stay here, of course,” Tara said calmly. “Though you’ll have to stay out of sight of the Millinders. Then, when Reece returns, you’ll live with us.”

“I couldn’t!”

“You will.”

“But Reece—What will he think? He won’t want to have me around.”

“Reece is a kind, generous man. He’ll feel the same way I do.”

“What will other people think about you, lettin’ me and a baby stay with you?”

“I don’t care a fig for the opinions of others. If they don’t like it, they can go hang themselves!”

“Tara!” Sheila was scandalized, yet delighted. She steadied herself, getting past her earlier agitated emotions. “I don’t deserve to have you for a cousin.

“I should have looked out for you better.”

“It wasn’t for lack of trying. You warned me about Webb, but I wouldn’t listen. I thought I knew better than you. I’m too stubborn, Tara. Me own mother always said as much. I’ve only meself to blame for bein’ in this mess.

“It’s done now. How it happened doesn’t matter. We must move on.”

“But Tara, about stayin’ here until Reece comes home. If they find out about me condition, you’ll be tossed out right along with me.”

“Then we’ll go back to the boarding house. Hap and Delores would put us up. I know they would.”

The answer seemed to satisfy Sheila, even though Tara hoped that option would not be necessary. Even if accommodations were found at the boarding house, there’d still be the matter of money. If she were terminated here for reasons of moral turpitude, Tara would not be able to find another maid’s job in a grand house. She’d be back to working as a tavern wench for low wages.

Sheila was hardly showing yet, though it wouldn’t be long before her condition was apparent. She could keep to the servants’ quarters and the Millinders need never see her but that still left the problem of her fellow servants. Gossip flew loosely in the great house. Sooner or later it would reach Mrs. Beecham’s ears and then Tara would, as Sheila feared, be terminated.

She decided to confront the matter directly. One of the maids, a shy, earnest girl named Inga, had always been kind to Tara. Although it was a risk, she took Inga into her confidence.

Inga’s reaction was a relief.

“Oh, how dreadful! The same thing happened to my older sister. She was sent away to live with my great aunt. My father wouldn’t allow her name to be mentioned in our house, and my mother cried and cried. Poor Sheila! What will she do?”

“I’d like her to stay on here, with me. At least until we can make other plans.” Until Reece returned.

“But if Mrs. Beecham finds out—”

“Do you think the other girls will tell her?”

“Not if I ask them not to.” Inga had always admired Kitty, from a respectful distance. Tall and beautiful, Kitty had a forthright manner and confidence that Inga envied. Until today, though, Kitty had been a bit aloof. Gratified at being confided in, Inga was determined to be helpful.

“There’s one more thing, Inga, but you musn’t tell anyone. It’ll be a secret between us.”

Inga held her breath in anticipation.

“Me name’s not Kitty Logan. It’s Tara McLaughlin. I was in vaudeville once and made enemies with a very bad man. He burned down the theater and savagely beat a friend of mine to get even with me. He may still be after me, so I’d be grateful if you’d say nothin’ to no one. Not even the other girls. This’ll just be between the two of us.”

It was a solemn responsibility. Inga’s existence was mundane compared to the intrigues in Kitty/Tara’s life. A colorful vaudeville past? Dangerous enemies? Inga was thrilled to be included. She herself had a secret, but she couldn’t tell it to anyone.

Inga spread the word among the staff. A conspiracy took hold.

Sheila had never troubled herself to be friendly toward any of the mansion’s many workers, so she was surprised and cheered by the unlooked-for support that came her way. While no one approved of a young, unmarried girl being in the family way, no one wanted to give Mrs. Beecham or the Millinders the chance to eject her from the house.

“It’s odd. They’re helping me, yet I’ve never had so much as a kind word for any of them.”

“Perhaps it’s time you did.”

Thus, pregnancy transformed Sheila’s personality as much as it did her physique. She became fast friend with several of the other maids and was a special pet of Cook’s. The plump, kindly older woman made sure that plenty of fruit, vegetables and milk were spirited up the stairs to the servants’ quarters.

Things also changed between Sheila and Tara. Sobered by the responsibilities ahead of her, Sheila finally put aside her selfishness. She grew more mature and open. The two cousins had long talks about the future.

“I’d no idea you missed performing so much. You said nothin’ all this time, and I never bothered to ask you how you felt. You just took these jobs and went about your work.”

“There’s nothin’ noble in that. We needed to eat.”

“It’s such a shame, though. You must find a way to get back onstage. Sure and it’s where you were meant to be.”

•  •  •

“Sometimes I wake up in the dead of night with a start, wondering why I don’t feel you lying next to me…”

Tara read Reece’s letters aloud to Sheila, omitting the more intimate passages. They came thrice a week, and she wrote back to him with similar frequency. She tried to cheer him with amusing descriptions of visitors to the mansion, of how Cook screamed and jumped up onto a chair the day a mouse scampered through the kitchen.

“I am flying with the French in a plane that can go 130 miles an hour. Someone more clever than I has solved a problem I never gave much thought to: how to synchronize machine gun fire so that you can shoot through the propellers without hitting them.”

“Machine gun fire,” said Sheila in alarm. “Ah, Tara. You must be that worried about him.”

She was. The hostilities showed no signs of easing. In fact, America was being pushed closer and closer to entering the war by growing public outrage over the deadly effectiveness of Germany’s U-boats, which sank all vessels they encountered, including American ships.

“I am working closely with the French and English engineers. General Damon is pleased with my reports. Still no word on when I’ll be coming home. You can’t imagine what it’s like here. The Germans are using nerve gas in the trenches. Yesterday I saw dozens of blinded men, waiting in a long line for treatment. Some of them, I think, will never see again.

“I go about my work here but I feel as if I’m there with you. Never forget for a moment how much I love you, Tara.”

One month turned into two, then four and five. Sheila was quite large by this time. She spent her days reading popular novels and sometimes even the schoolbooks she’d previously neglected. She also knitted lots of clothes for the baby and snuck out of the house to take leisurely walks, bundled up warmly against the frosty air.