Butterfly Palace (18 page)
Jane leaned forward. “And then there was me. Vesters told Nathan if he didn’t do like he said, he’d make sure I disappeared. Nathan would never see me again.”
“What an evil, evil man,” Lily burst out.
“He’s all that and more.” Jane’s voice was choked. “Nathan is in so tightly now, he’ll go to prison if it’s all uncovered. Vesters had made sure of that.”
Drew glanced at Lily, and she could see he wanted to tell them both the truth. They both knew he couldn’t. Maintaining his cover was too important.
“If I can get the evidence against Vesters, I have a friend who might be able to help,” Drew said. “I’ll make sure you are cleared for testifying once he’s arrested.”
“What evidence do you need?”
“It’s easy enough to arrest him when he’s at his printing facility, but unless we want to worry about reprisals from the people he’s working with, we need them all. I want his partner too. Do you know who that is?”
Nathan shook his head. “I’ve never seen him.”
Drew leaned forward. “I need to catch them all red-handed.”
Nathan glanced at Jane. “I’ll see what I can find out. I want you to promise me if anything happens to me, you’ll take care of Jane and Hannah.”
“I promise,” Lily said quickly. “I heard today our assistant cook is quitting. If she goes through with it, I’ll send word right away for you to come for an interview.”
Jane brightened, then slumped. “When they find out I have a baby, they won’t hire me.”
“Mrs. Marshall is a fair woman. Let’s wait and see what happens.”
B
elle strode in a very unladylike way to the butterfly conservatory where she knew her aunt would be. The Monday afternoon ride had been unending, and she’d barely held her smile in place. Though the man had seemed promising when she met him at dinner, he had a wandering hand she’d had to keep in check.
Her aunt was on a white chaise. Christopher was on a chair beside her. He had his mother’s poodle on his lap.
Aunt Camille looked up from the book she was reading. She looked quite lovely in a pale green gown. “Whatever is the matter, Belle? You’re behaving like a hoyden.”
Belle dropped onto a chair near Aunt Camille. “Remind me never to go out with him alone again. He fancied himself quite the Casanova.”
Christopher scowled and put down the dog. “He didn’t harm you?”
His mother slapped his arm with her fan. “Christopher, stay out of this. And brush your hair out of your face. I quite dislike that new hairstyle.”
Rage flashed over Christopher’s face but quickly vanished. Belle shot Christopher a sympathetic glance, then removed her hat and threw it onto the floor. “Of course not. I wouldn’t allow it.”
He grinned and sat back in his chair. “Of course you wouldn’t.”
Her aunt closed the book. “Lily, get us some tea,” she told the maid who was dusting glass display cases. “Belle, dear, you should accept Mr. Vesters and be done with it.”
Belle sighed. “I’d hoped for someone more dashing.”
“He has money and political aspirations. That’s dashing enough.”
Lily moved to a tray on the table and retrieved a white envelope. “Before I go for the tea, I should give you this from Mr. Vesters.”
Belle took the thick envelope and read the contents. “He would like to take me to the theater on Friday.” She smiled but her heart felt no real joy. Her plan to marry well would come together, but why, oh why couldn’t Vesters look like Mr. Hawkes?
Aunt Camille stared at Lily. “You went out today. I saw you leaving the police station. What were you doing there?”
Lily colored and glanced at Aunt Camille. “I don’t know if Miss Belle told you, but I was attacked in the yard of St. David’s Episcopal Church on Friday.”
Her aunt bolted more upright. “You don’t mean . . . ?”
Lily’s cheeks grew redder. “No, no, but he had a knife.” She unbuttoned her collar to reveal a red slash against her white skin. “I escaped before any real harm was done. The police have not caught him.”
Christopher leaped to his feet. “The cad!”
Aunt Camille winced at the lurid mark. “It seems my son is right for once. I’m so sorry, Lily. And, Belle, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m sorry but I forgot, Aunt Camille.” Belle eyed Christopher, who was pacing the floor. Why would he care about a servant?
Lily turned away. “I was unharmed so I thought not to worry you.”
“You really should have told us,” Aunt Camille said. “I’ll have my husband talk to the police himself.”
Lily shook her head. “I’d rather you didn’t, Mrs. Marshall. I don’t want any special attention. I stopped by the church to see if the minister or his wife had seen anything. Mrs. Adams seemed rather peculiar. Have you ever attended that church?”
Her aunt picked up her book. “No, we attend the Presbyterian church. What do you mean about her being peculiar?” Her voice seemed a little high and strained.
“When she discovered I worked here, she rushed off as if she was frightened.”
Belle laughed. “I’ve heard people say my uncle worships butterflies. They’re quite ignorant. The ornate frescoes seem rather heathenish to some people. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“Yes, miss.”
“What exactly did the minister’s wife say?” Aunt Camille asked.
“She asked if I worked for you, ma’am.”
“How strange. I’m sure I don’t know her.” She rose and went to the door. “I’ll have one of the other maids fetch the tea.” Her aunt hurried out of the room. “Come with me, Christopher.”
He sighed and followed his mother. He paused near Lily as though he wanted to speak, but then scurried out the door.
Belle stared after them. “Aunt Camille has only been married to Uncle Everett for a year. She was an ambassador’s widow. My uncle thought her connections would enhance his political ambitions.”
“An arranged marriage?”
“Of course. My uncle has his sights on getting to Washington eventually. Aunt Camille knows the political arena quite well. Her husband left her penniless, so she needed a wealthy husband. It’s been quite advantageous to both of them.”
“They seem quite fond of one another.”
“Oh, they are! It’s a love match now, but it didn’t start out that way. I’m sure I can do the same. I will be able to love my husband
eventually, whoever he is. As long as he brings the right expectations to the marriage.”
When Lily pressed her lips together, Belle laughed. “You’re so charming, Lily.” Belle slipped her feet out of her shoes. “What you don’t seem to understand is that I have few options. Once I’m married, I can go where I want and do what I like. Right now my uncle controls my every movement. I’m ready to manage my own house.”
“You could travel, go to the university if you pleased. You don’t have to marry, Miss Belle. You said you wanted power, but isn’t it better to have power over your own destiny rather than have to fall in with your husband’s wishes? Especially if it’s a loveless marriage? Your husband may not cater to your every whim like you think.”
Belle touched the glass housing a very colorful butterfly. “That’s very progressive thinking. Would you go to college if you could?”
Lily ran her dust cloth over another case. “My father owned the town livery, and we were quite comfortable. I dreamed of going off to college, but when he died, my mother had to find a way to support us, so she started a dressmaking business. I quit school to help her.”
Belle hadn’t thought about how her maid grew up. She glanced at Lily’s hands, roughened from needlework and scrubbing. “This is as far as you’ve ever traveled? What if you could go to London, Paris, Madrid? Would you marry someone for that?” Lily smiled, and Belle was struck with how attractive her maid was. Was Mr. Hawkes interested in her as a woman? Maybe even Christopher? “What if you could marry someone like Mr. Hawkes and travel the world?”
Lily turned red, then white. “Mr. Hawkes is in Austin. He’s not traveling the world.”
“He’s quite the cosmopolitan traveler though. He spent nearly a year in Paris before he came here.”
Lily blinked and moved to the next case. “How exciting for him. But I thought you’d decided against Mr. Hawkes.”
“I haven’t decided anything. All I know is I intend to forge my own destiny. I won’t be ordered about the way my mother was.”
Lily held her gaze. “Then you should think twice about accepting Mr. Vesters.”
“Why would you say that?”
“He seems the forceful type, Miss Belle. I think once the bloom wore off the marriage, he would insist on his own way. I think he might even strike you.”
Belle laughed at the thought of anyone daring to lift a hand to her. “You let me worry about how to control Stuart Vesters.”
The Driskill Hotel was on Sixth Street and Brazos. Its massive stone edifice was almost enough to make Lily turn tail and run as soon as she stepped off the trolley. She shrank back and turned her head as Mrs. Marshall sailed out the door. Once the woman was in her car and out of sight, Lily moved toward the hotel again.
A doorman held open the glass door. She clenched her hand around her bag and moved onto the marble floor of the entry. Brass gleamed everywhere on ornate wood. Her shoes echoed with the ceilings that seemed to go on forever. It was so grand it took her breath away.
Quaking inside, she went to the front desk. “Is Mr. Ballard in?”
The clerk, a mousy man with a thin mustache, looked her over with a brow lifted. “He just went to the salon.” He pointed down the hall. “He’s eating lunch.”
She nodded and walked across the cavernous lobby to the salon before she lost her nerve. Her heart thudded in her chest, and her
throat was so tight she struggled to swallow. She couldn’t have asked for better circumstances. He would think she just happened to see him here rather than know she’d sought him out.
She paused in the doorway and surveyed the room, paneled with rich wood and furnished with plush leather seating. Waiters discreetly brought drinks to the patrons. She saw him at the far table by the window. He was alone with a newspaper. A half-empty glass was in front of him.
She took a deep breath and stepped into the room. The distance to his table seemed enormous, and with each step, her pulse increased. A few people looked at her curiously, and she knew her modest dress was out of place in this setting. She finally reached his table and stood quietly a moment until he lifted his gaze from the newspaper.
She smiled with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you sitting here. Mr. Ballard, how lovely to run into you.”
He went white, then scrambled to his feet. “Miss Donaldson, what are you doing here in Austin? I never dreamed you’d ever leave Larson.” He jerked a chair out from the table. “Please, have a seat. Have you had lunch?” He snapped his fingers for a waiter. “Bring my guest a sandwich. Is roast beef all right? That’s what I’m having.”
“That would be lovely. And some tea, please.” She settled into the leather chair and pulled off her gloves. “It’s wonderful to see someone from home. How long have you been in Austin?”
He sat back down and folded his newspaper. “About six months. I have a knife business that’s doing quite well, and, well, one thing led to another and I just purchased some property here. We are going to move in tomorrow. My mother is with me, of course. She is in her room with a headache. She’ll be sorry to have missed you.”
He’d always had a way of making her feel she was the most
important person in the room. His intent gaze never left her face, and he leaned forward slightly as though he didn’t want to miss a syllable. His beard was mostly gray now, and his gray hair just brushed the collar of his white shirt. She thought he was about fifty-five, but his erect carriage gave the impression of someone younger.
She’d liked him from the moment he moved in next door. He and his wife had often been at her house too. She’d died in a fall from a horse when Lily was sixteen. He talked politics with her father and joked with her mother. How could he be as evil as Drew proclaimed? How could he possibly have killed her father? Yet Drew had been so adamant about it.
His smile faded, and he reached out to take her hand. “I heard about your mother. She was a wonderful lady.”
She returned the pressure of his fingers. “Thank you. I miss her.”
He sat back and took a sip of his drink. “How have you come to be here, Miss Lily?”
“I’m employed by the Marshalls. I tend to their niece, Belle Castle.”
He lifted a brow. “I know Everett Marshall. Good man. I supported his bid for the state senate, and I plan to vote for him in the upcoming election. He’ll make a fine U.S. senator. I hate to see you in service though.”
“I don’t mind it. I like being independent.”
“You always did.” He drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “My mother could use a lady’s maid. I’d rather see you among friends than with strangers.”
His grin reminded her again of their long history. How could she get to the truth? She wet her lips. “Thank you, but I’m quite happy where I am, though I would be glad to help you find someone. I can ask some of the staff. And I’m glad to have run into you. I’ve been thinking about my father’s death. You were his good
friend. I’ve heard the fire might have been set. Can you think of any enemies who might have wanted to harm him?”