Far From Home (4 page)

Again came the genial grin, and Georgiana couldn’t help but smile back.

‘She also told me,’ he went on, ‘that you were convinced that you could make your way alone in this country, but that perhaps you might accept a little help if that assistance was offered without conditions or demands.’

‘But why would you want to assist me, Mr Dreumel? You don’t know me or anything about me. I might be a foolish woman here on a whim. I might be looking for riches. Why would you help a stranger?’

He shrugged. ‘When my grandfather came to this country from the Netherlands, he had nothing. He brought his wife and son – my father – and always spoke of the help he had received from total strangers. He was lucky, I suppose, he could just as easily have come across others who would have turned their backs on him. But because of that, he brought up my father to do what he could for others, and my father did the same for me.

‘Times have changed, of course.’ He gazed around the room at the opulent surroundings. ‘My grandfather and father never made much money though they worked hard, but they were happy men, content with what their endeavours had brought them.’

‘Yes.’ Georgiana leaned towards him. ‘That is what I want! And I don’t see why, just because I am a woman, I shouldn’t be able to do that too. I want to be considered a proper person in my own right.’

‘I can see why you got on so well with Mrs Burrows.’ He smiled. ‘She too is a very independent woman. Or she was,’ he reflected. ‘Regrettably her age is now catching up with her, though I’m quite sure that she will always be very vocal in her beliefs.’

‘Then there is hope for me!’ Georgiana felt buoyed up by their conversation. Wilhelm Dreumel was a very engaging, candid man, obviously not given to handing out flattery or compliments as some men were, but he spoke to her in a frank and easy manner as if he was talking to another man.

‘There is plenty of hope, Miss Gregory. But you will not find it easy: there will be many who will look down upon you for not having a husband in tow, and you will be regarded with suspicion by some ladies if you so much as smile or pass the time of day with their menfolk.’

‘So what of you, Mr Dreumel?’ She remembered that he had said he was not looking for a wife. ‘Do you have an understanding wife or are you a confirmed bachelor?’

A shadow fell across his affable face. ‘I did have a beautiful and understanding wife, but sadly she died in childbirth and the child did not survive. We had been married only one year and we were both very young. She was eighteen and I twenty-one. I have not wanted another wife, for she was irreplaceable.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Georgiana murmured. ‘It must be very hard to lose someone you love.’

He nodded sombrely. ‘It is, it is very hard indeed. I shall never recover from it. So,’ he perked up and spoke cheerfully, ‘after all these years, twelve in September, no-one tries to find me another wife as they did to begin with. Poor Bill, my friends used to say. We must find him someone to marry. They now know that I am a lost cause, and the women that I know are my friends and not my lovers.’

She gazed at him. He would be a good friend, she mused. Honest and plain-speaking. If I get to know him perhaps he would also be a friend to me. It might be helpful, sometimes, to hear a man’s point of view.

‘Mr Dreumel,’ she said boldly. ‘Could I invite you to supper?’

Wilhelm Dreumel said that although he would be happy to be her guest, if she would permit it he would like to choose the venue. Georgiana was glad of that offer for she did not want to be seen dining in the Portland with a gentleman, in case Mrs Charlesworth might also be taking supper and think the worst. How foolish I am, she thought irritably, as she dressed for the evening. I’m trying to be an independent woman and here I am worrying over someone tittle-tattling about me.

However, when she came down the stairs to meet him at six o’clock in the foyer as they had arranged, she saw that Mr Dreumel was engaged in earnest conversation with another man.

His eyes swept over her as she approached and he smiled admiringly. Kitty had ironed all her gowns and she had chosen to wear a deep blue, which, she had been told, emphasized the colour of her eyes. Over her gown she wore a shoulder cape in a darker shade of blue, as the evening was growing chilly.

‘Miss Gregory.’ Dreumel held out his hand to include her in their conversation. ‘Permit me to introduce a colleague, John Charlesworth.’

Oh, no, she breathed. Not the husband of that dreadful woman! She smiled, however, and inclined her head in greeting.

‘Delighted, Miss Gregory.’ John Charlesworth bowed. ‘Are you newly arrived in New York?’

So his wife hasn’t told him of me and how rude I was, she cogitated, beginning to regret her hasty departure from that lady.

‘Just a few days ago,’ she replied.

‘And are you impressed by our fine city? I believe it is comparable with London for its shops and theatres, though not of course for its ancient buildings and heritage,’ he added.

‘Indeed I am. It’s a very handsome city,’ she agreed. ‘The streets are much wider than our English streets and the colour of the stone buildings is very appealing. The gardens too,’ she added and was surprised at her own enthusiasm, ‘are lovely.’

‘Good. Good,’ he said, and, as he took his leave, declared, ‘I must introduce you to my wife, Miss Gregory. She likes to meet people from other lands.’

‘I believe we have met already, Mr Charlesworth,’ she said. ‘But I shall be glad to renew her acquaintance.’

‘Oh dear,’ she remarked to Wilhelm Dreumel as they left the Portland – he had suggested that as it wasn’t far they might walk to the hotel where they were to eat. ‘I’m afraid I may have insulted his wife when I met her. I was rather discourteous, for she was so very patronizing and wished to organize my life.’

He chuckled. ‘Don’t worry yourself, Miss Gregory. Mrs Charlesworth would not notice if you were rude to her, for she never listens to anyone’s opinion. She thinks only that she knows best, and yet she has no education or discernment. She has lived in the Portland Hotel for the last ten years and goes nowhere but to New York balls, parties and theatres. That is her life.’

‘Poor woman,’ Georgiana murmured. ‘Does her husband not travel either?’

‘He does, but she will not go with him, preferring to stay at the Portland where she behaves as if she owns it.’

The Marius Hotel where they were to dine was situated in a small quiet square. It was not as large or as lavish as the Portland, being plainly constructed on the outside with balconies on the first and second floors. It was well furnished with good carpets and curtains, and, like the Portland, had many small tables and comfortable sofas in the main lounge, and although it did not have a grand foyer, there was a wide hall with a piano, paintings on the walls and a welcoming fire in a large hearth.

‘Delightful,’ Georgiana said as they entered. ‘How very pleasant.’

Mr Dreumel nodded at her approval. ‘After we have eaten supper – and the food is good and wholesome – you may decide that you would prefer to live here. This is why I brought you.’

She noticed, as they were shown to their places in the dining room, that although several tables were occupied, they were occupied by gentlemen only, and the few ladies who were there were sitting separately and at a distance from the other diners. When she commented on this, her companion said that few ladies dined out with their husbands, and that gentlemen generally dined alone.

‘Is this a typical New York custom?’ she asked. ‘Or a general American one?’

‘I can’t answer that, Miss Gregory,’ he said. ‘I can’t say I have noticed it elsewhere, but then apart from when I am in New York, the company I keep is generally male.’

‘Why is that, Mr Dreumel?’ She smiled. ‘You are not allergic to the company of ladies or you would not have approached me, nor would you have spoken of Mrs Burrows or accepted my invitation to supper!’

‘Certainly not.’ He laughed. ‘I like the company of ladies. But my business takes me to places where there are few members of the female society. I have a newspaper company,’ he explained. ‘Penny newspapers in New York and Philadelphia. Ladies tend not to be in that kind of business.’

‘I’m sure the women of America read newspapers,’ she commented. ‘Would they not like to read something written by a woman?’

He took her question seriously and surveyed her as the soup and bread were brought to the table. ‘I don’t personally know of any woman who writes for a newspaper, though there are of course female writers of novels. I regret to say, though, they are not as a rule approved of by the general public. And,’ he added with a grin, ‘the writer most disapproved of, though her book is widely read, is the English lady Mrs Fanny Trollope, who was not impressed by American life.’

Georgiana sighed. ‘It seems, then, that life for women is not so very different here than in England.’

‘No, perhaps not,’ he agreed. ‘But it will come. In time.’

‘But it might be too late for me,’ she said passionately. ‘I want to make my own decisions about my life.’

‘You are young, Miss Gregory. And you can do as you wish. Who is to stop you?’

She looked across at him. ‘I’m twenty-three!’ she replied.

‘In your prime! A perfect age for a woman who does not want the disadvantage of a husband to hold her back! A sensible age for travelling alone with perhaps just a companion.’

‘A companion?’ she said suspiciously. ‘What companion?’

‘You have brought a young woman with you, have you not?’ he asked. ‘I thought that Mrs Burrows said—’

‘Oh,’ she breathed. ‘You mean Kitty? thought—’

‘No,’ he said solemnly, though there was a sparkle of fun in his eyes. ‘I did not mean anyone else. I would not presume—’

‘I beg your pardon.’ She was embarrassed. ‘You see how difficult it is for a woman, Mr Dreumel? We are torn between what we have been taught and what we want. Sometimes,’ she added softly, ‘I think that we don’t know
what
we want, only that we want something different. It can be quite bewildering.’

They ate in silence for a while, then Georgiana said, ‘So shall we talk about you, Mr Dreumel? Tell me about your newspaper business. How far do you travel?’

‘Between New York and Philadelphia. I hope eventually to open a newspaper in Detroit. How is your fowl?’ he asked suddenly. ‘Tender?’

‘Very,’ she said. ‘Delicious. I would like to move here from the Portland if the rates are reasonable.’

‘They are,’ he said. ‘But you must ask tonight. It is a very popular hotel and there are not many rooms.’

She said that she would. She felt comfortable here, the staff were politely friendly without being too familiar or condescending, as she felt they were at the Portland.

‘I am also in other fields.’ He returned to the original subject, first taking a drink from his wine glass. ‘My father worked as a miner in Philadelphia, and because I have a smattering of knowledge I went off to California in ’49 to try my luck.’

‘You’re not going to tell me that you struck gold!’

Sheepishly he nodded. ‘I found a placer deposit of free gold.’ He saw a question in her face. ‘It’s called free gold because it’s mixed in with sand or gravel and is recovered by washing in a mining pan. It’s found mostly in river beds.’

‘So has it made you rich?’ She smiled. ‘Do I set my bonnet at you after all?’

He laughed, then leaned towards her. ‘I shall get richer with my newspapers, but I bought the New York newspaper with some of the proceeds.’ He hesitated, then said, lowering his voice, ‘I want to raise castle, and someone showed me a perfect place. As an American citizen I was able to buy the land, and then I discovered what I believe to be a gold lode there.’

‘A gold lode?’ she whispered back. ‘What is that?’

‘It’s gold that is buried in rock. It has to be crushed out of the rock which means using expensive machinery. We’ve staked a claim and are setting up right now.’

‘We? You have a partner?’

‘Yes.’ He nodded. ‘John Charlesworth. He has agreed to put capital into the scheme. The one problem is his wife. If she should hear of it it will be all over New York and we’ll have every gold miner in America trailing us.’

‘But why are you telling me, Mr Dreumel?’ she asked, perturbed by this confidence. ‘You don’t know me. I could tell everyone too. How do you know I can keep a secret?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But I can guess. I can generally tell if someone is honest and trustworthy.’ He smiled his dimpled smile. ‘I don’t really know why I told you, but sometimes it is good to confide, to share. Besides,’ he added, ‘I haven’t told you where the land is and if I did you wouldn’t be able to find it. Being only a woman,’ he said slyly.

‘Ah,’ she said gaily. ‘I thought there would be a reason. So who is looking after this land?’ she asked. ‘Shouldn’t you be there guarding it?’

‘Normally, yes,’ he said. ‘But I have found a fellow who has been in the mining business – an Englishman, who is there now supervising the machinery which is being assembled. I’m expecting him this week, as a matter of fact. He’s travelling to New York to tell us of the work in progress.’

After they had finished eating, Georgiana spoke to the desk clerk and asked to see the rooms. They were smaller than at the other hotel but comfortably furnished and decorated in warm colours. They had two free so she booked them for an indefinite stay. Wilhelm Dreumel kept out of earshot as she negotiated a price, and she was glad that he did not try to interfere or recommend.

They strolled back to the Portland. The evening was cool but dry and there was a salty smell of the sea which made her feel nostalgic for home, but she also felt buoyed up by the fact that she was making progress in her life. I have made a friend, she thought, who has confided in me, and I have made a decision about moving hotels and I have not yet been here one week.

‘It has been most pleasant, Miss Gregory,’ Dreumel said as he escorted her into the Portland foyer. ‘Very pleasant indeed, and I hope that perhaps we can repeat the evening, only perhaps you would be my guest next time?’

‘That would be lovely.’ She extended her hand to his. ‘Where are you staying, Mr Dreumel?’ she asked. ‘Here at the Portland?’