Far From Home (11 page)

How could he refuse when it was put so charmingly? Yet it was with misgivings that on the Friday morning he stepped into the carriage which Rodriguez had sent to collect him and drive him away from the bustling and colourful city, taking him east to the lowlands, to the fields of cotton and sugar cane, to Sofia and to – He drew in a breath as the driver urged on the horses. To Elena! I’m a fool, he thought. I am a fool!

Georgiana asked the desk clerk if he had a forwarding address for Mr Dreumel. She thought he hesitated for a moment before answering. ‘I regret not, Miss Gregory, but Mr Charlesworth might know it. If he’s in New York I guess you’ll find him at the Portland Hotel.’

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I will enquire if he is there.’

She slipped back upstairs and put on her shoulder wrap and her wide-brimmed bonnet, and took her parasol for the sun was bright. ‘I won’t be long, Kitty,’ she said. ‘I’m just going to the Portland. Whilst I’m gone perhaps you’d pack a change of clothing for both of us. Something sensible,’ she added. ‘Suitable for a journey.’

‘But where are we going, Miss Gregory?’ Kitty asked plaintively. ‘How can I pack if I don’t know where we’re going?’

Georgiana raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, don’t pack dancing slippers, that’s for certain.’

Mr Charlesworth was in and would be down in just a moment, the bellboy informed her after going up to his room. He asked if he could get her anything whilst she waited. A glass of orange juice or coffee?

She declined and took a seat in the foyer with a view of the stairs and the door, where she watched people coming and going. This is a much smarter hotel than the Marius, she decided, much richer residents judging by the elegant clothes they are wearing, but, she pondered, I do prefer the Marius. It is well run and comfortable without being pompous or pretentious.

John Charlesworth came down the stairs. He was wearing a double-breasted frock coat and carried a silk top hat as if he was on his way out somewhere. She considered that he was rather handsome and that he probably knew it. He was tall and slim, with long sideburns and well-groomed dark hair flecked with silver. He oozed confidence and panache.

‘Miss Gregory.’ He bowed over her hand and she invited him to be seated. ‘I am delighted to see you again. Regrettably my wife is out this morning or she would have been pleased to meet you.’

‘I’m sure we shall catch up with each other soon, Mr Charlesworth, but in fact this isn’t a social call. I was wondering if you had a forwarding address for Mr Dreumel?’

She saw the same hesitation in his face that she had seen in the desk clerk’s. They both know, she considered, but don’t want to tell. It must be because of the mine. ‘I realize that you might be breaking a confidence, Mr Charlesworth,’ she said. ‘But I have some rather disturbing news which I feel I should impart to Mr Dreumel.’

She saw the question in his eyes and added, ‘Unfortunately there was not the opportunity to speak to him last night as I would have wished, and this morning I discovered that he had departed in rather a hurry.’

‘Indeed yes. Something has cropped up. We were brought news of it by Newmarch.’

She decided to confide, at least partially. ‘It is of Edward Newmarch that I wished to speak,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I know him. I am related to the Newmarch family by marriage.’

‘Really?’ He seemed astonished, then said, ‘Of course England is a small country. It is inevitable that you would know most people, of your circle at least.’

She took a deep breath. ‘The man who calls himself Newmarch is not of my circle, Mr Charlesworth, not that that matters. What matters is that he is not Edward Newmarch! He is an impostor. His real name is Robert Allen and he formerly worked for Edward Newmarch as his valet and came with him to America eighteen months ago.’

Charlesworth’s eyes flickered over her face. ‘This has very serious implications, Miss Gregory. Are you absolutely sure?’

‘Yes. Edward Newmarch is married to my cousin. Mr Charlesworth, Mr Dreumel confided in me of his interest in a particular mine, though he didn’t say where. Robert Allen’s family, I believe, were coal miners, which is probably where he acquired some knowledge. You will understand why I am concerned that his activities may not be honest.’

Charlesworth ran his hand over his chin. ‘Have you confronted him? Is he aware that you know of this duplicity?’

‘I have and yes he does. He recognized me instantly, as I recognized him. Even my maid— my companion, Kitty, knew who he was. What bothers me, Mr Charlesworth, is where is the real Edward Newmarch? Allen claims that he left him in New Orleans!’

‘This is most unfortunate.’ Charlesworth got up from his chair and began to pace up and down. ‘It couldn’t have come at a worse time. There is a lot at stake here, Miss Gregory. I personally have put a considerable amount of capital into this venture and I know that Dreumel has mortgaged the Marius.’

‘Mortgaged the Marius?’ she asked. ‘What? Do you mean that—?’

He nodded. ‘Dreumel owns the Marius. He didn’t want to use his newspapers to back the mine project, so he took out a loan on the hotel.’ He glanced quickly at her. ‘I speak in confidence, Miss Gregory, I perhaps should not—’

‘I am not a woman who gossips, Mr Charlesworth.’ She remembered what Wilhelm Dreumel had said about Mrs Charlesworth, if she should find out about the mine. ‘My concern is that Allen shouldn’t commit fraud on Mr Dreumel, or yourself of course,’ she added.

‘Mm. It is of no use writing,’ he muttered. ‘A letter might take weeks to reach him. Yet I cannot travel there for at least a week.’ He stared out of the window. ‘So what best to do?’

‘Allen told me that Mr Dreumel depends on him,’ Georgiana said. ‘He said that he might be dismissed if he found out about him, and that Mr Dreumal would lose money if he left.’

‘This is perfectly true.’ Charlesworth turned to face her. ‘We have trusted him to manage the mine and the men who work there. But how do we know that he knows what he is doing if he is only a valet? I am not an engineer and neither is Dreumel. He must be told.’ His face creased with frustration. ‘Suppose they strike gold! This fellow might claim it. Yet I have commitments here that I cannot break.’

‘I could go,’ she offered. ‘If you tell me where.’

‘Miss Gregory!’ He gave a short astonished laugh. ‘I don’t think so! You are not familiar with the territory and, besides, you are a—’

‘A woman?’ she suggested. ‘I can ride a horse and drive a trap!’

‘I beg your pardon, Miss Gregory,’ he had an amused condescending expression on his face, ‘but riding around a park, or down a country lane in England, would not equip you for travelling cross-country along rough tracks in America! The place where Dreumel has gone is out of the New York State. It is true that part of the journey can be made by railroad or canal but after that the roads are bad. Some of this country is still wild and raw.’ He shook his head. ‘I could not allow it.’

‘You cannot disallow it, Mr Charlesworth,’ she said stiffly. ‘I am not your wife. I wish to find Mr Dreumel and I am asking you if you will please tell me where he has gone. You don’t have to tell me where the mine is,’ she persisted. ‘Just tell me the nearest town and I will enquire further once I am there and perhaps he could come to me.’

‘Town!’ He laughed heartily. ‘A collection of shacks, that’s all there is.’ He sat down beside her again. ‘Miss Gregory. You cannot conceive of the dangers for a woman travelling alone. It just cannot be done! There are rough pioneers, fighting men, Chinese, Indians even, whom you might encounter on the road to Duquesne.’

‘Women do travel,’ she argued, and made a mental note of the name he had unintentionally mentioned. ‘Pioneer women who travel with their husbands and build up a homestead. I have read of them, I admire them immensely! I saw women in England,’ she added, ‘Mormons, prepared to walk across America to get to their destination.’

He nodded and gazed at her. ‘It is true, there are such women. But they are not like you, Miss Gregory. You, if I am not mistaken, have lived a life of comparative ease. You have had servants to attend you, ridden in carriages and always had someone to escort you.’ His voice was soft, and she felt his eyes embracing her face, her silk dress and bonnet. ‘I think that a civilized life is probably what suits you best. I cannot see you wearing homespun or drawing water from a well!’

She lifted her chin and gazed squarely at him. ‘So you are not going to tell me? Very well.’ She rose from the chair. ‘Then I must find out for myself.’

He stood up beside her. ‘No,’ he said quickly. ‘If you are determined to go, then I will tell you. But it is against my better judgement. And I must ask why? What does it mean to you? Can you not wait another week when I can escort you?’

And what would you tell your wife? she mused. Or perhaps you wouldn’t tell her, and then suppose she found out! ‘It is, I feel, the first stage of a longer journey,’ she told him. ‘I would like to find out what has happened to the real Edward Newmarch. I want to know if he is dead or alive and then I can inform my cousin – his wife. Edward Newmarch,’ she said bluntly, ‘left his newly married wife to come to America and she has not heard a word from him since. If he is dead then his money should revert to her. It was rightly hers anyway. I don’t like to think that an impostor is spending it when she has nothing but what her father can give her.’ But also I’m determined on this because I am stubborn, she thought. I won’t be told that I cannot do something because I am a woman.

‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Then in that case you must travel first by the Erie Canal to Trenton and Philadelphia. Then change boats for Harrisburg. When you reach there take a coach and travel to Duquesne. From there you will need to hire transport. I’ll give you a map to show you the way to the nearest settlement. It has no name,’ he added. ‘When you arrive there, enquire of a man called Lake. He’s a trapper, half Indian – from the Iroquois tribe, I believe. He’ll take you on to Dreumel.’

Georgiana’s voice was husky and nervous as she asked, ‘What about the road? Wouldn’t that be quicker than by waterway?’

‘Not at the moment, it wouldn’t. The national roads are good, but the transport is not always reliable and many of the smaller roads are potholed, making a journey extremely uncomfortable. When will you go? Tomorrow?’

‘If we can get a berth, then perhaps today. I might even catch up with Mr Dreumel,’ she said brightly. ‘He won’t be too far ahead.’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. You will be careful?’ he cautioned. ‘I wouldn’t let my wife go on such a journey.’

‘It’s as well then that I’m not your wife, Mr Charlesworth,’ she replied, ‘for I would lead you amerry dance.’

‘I’m sure that you would.’ She saw admiration in his eyes, but then he urged her again to take care and said that he would come to the Marius within the hour with a map of the route.

‘Quick, Kitty.’ She rushed into her room to find Kitty with one iron on the fire, and with a thick blanket on the table carefully pressing the skirt of a gown with another. ‘We’re leaving in an hour.’

Kitty’s face was flushed from the heat of the iron. ‘Are we coming back?’

‘Oh yes, but we’ll have to vacate the rooms, otherwise I’ll have to pay for them. We’ll just take the essentials with us and I’ll ask the hotel to store the rest. I have just found out . . .’ she had taken to confiding in Kitty more and more, ‘. . . that Mr Dreumel owns this hotel,’ but she stopped short of saying that John Charlesworth had told her that Dreumel had mortgaged it.

‘Really?’ Kitty said. ‘So where are we going, miss?’ She dragged a carpet bag from beneath the bed. ‘Are we going on a tour?’

‘In a manner of speaking.’ Georgiana slipped out of her gown and into another plainer one with a fitted jacket, then took off her shoes and put on her laced boots, which were more comfortable. ‘We’re going on a river boat to Philadelphia. We’re going to look for Mr Dreumel and Robert Allen.’

‘Oh! Is that where they are?’

‘I don’t know where they are.’ She took a thick paisley shawl out of the cupboard, one she had brought for the voyage on the ship. ‘Come on, be quick, put away the ironing – I’ll know when Mr Charlesworth gets here.’

Kitty put the irons on the hearth to cool and hung up the dress she had been ironing. ‘I’ve already packed one bag with washing things and bed gowns, Miss Gregory. And what about food?’ she asked. ‘Will we need to take some like we did on ’ship?’

‘I don’t know, Kitty.’ Georgiana stopped in her rushing around, sat on the bed and pondered. Mr Charlesworth is quite right. I’m not prepared for this at all.

Perhaps there will be food on the boat, she considered. Travelling on the ship to America was the first time she had ever had to think of how food was conveyed to the table. And then Kitty organized it for me. I didn’t go out and buy it myself. Her self-confidence slipped. What am I doing? What am I thinking of? Why don’t I find a nice man to take care of me, settle down and live a life of ease?

She looked at Kitty, who was humming softly as she placed stockings and gloves into the bag. I’ve to take care of Kitty too, she thought. She depends on me. ‘Don’t take extra gloves, Kitty, or petticoats,’ she said, ‘and just one more pair of stockings, and a plain bonnet. And just this gown. I won’t need another.’

Kitty turned to her in astonishment. ‘But suppose you’re invited out to supper, Miss Gregory! You can’t wear the same gown and dirty gloves and stockings! You must have a change so that I can wash them.’

Georgiana suddenly remembered the tour she had been on with the Women’s Rights group, when they had invited Grace, a mill girl, to go with them. Grace hadn’t had any clothes but those she was wearing, yet she had made the biggest impact of all on the community who had come to hear them. Do our clothes make us what we are? she thought. Am I only as good as the gowns that I wear?

‘Then if I am invited out,’ she said, ‘people will just have to take me as I am, dirty gloves and all.’

It was a more civilized journey than she had been led to expect from John Charlesworth when he brought her the map and again told her to take great care. The packet boat was small but quite comfortable and they enjoyed the pleasure of watching the scenery as the boat steamed slowly along the canal. Freight was carried below deck and here male passengers drank ale and played cards, or lay down to sleep on the planking. The upper deck cabins were reserved for the female passengers and there was a small dining room where they could eat and food was provided.