The Pilgrim Song (2 page)

Lewis’s fiancée clung to his arm. Kat did not like Lucy, who at thirty-four was in her opinion much too young for her father. Lucy was sharp-featured but not unattractive, with auburn hair and brown eyes. Now Lucy murmured sweetly, “Your hair’s not combed, dear. Do you want me to help you with it? Why didn’t you get Marie to help you with it?”

“ ’Cause I did it myself,” Kat said, turning quickly and darting away.

Lucy shook her head. “We’ve got to do something with that child.”

Lewis watched Kat disappear, a fond look in his eyes. “She’ll be all right.” He looked at the gathered crowd and shook his head. “This is some party, Lucy. You’ve worked so hard on it, you must be exhausted.”

“No, I love it! You know how I love to do things like this.” Her mind was still on Kat, and she squeezed Lewis’s arm possessively. “After we’re married, I’ll teach Katherine how to be a lady. I’ll bring her out of her tomboy ways.”

Lewis smiled and shook his head. “I hope so.”

He had known Lucy for five years. She was the only child of Leo Daimen, a wealthy railroad man. She had a quickness about her that pleased him, and she had brought Lewis out of his solitary ways. He had surprised himself by proposing marriage and was even more surprised by her acceptance. Deep down, Lewis knew he was doing it for his children more than for himself.

“And I can help Hannah too. She’d be quite pretty if she’d dress more suitably.”

“I hope you can help her. I worry about Hannah a lot. She’s become nothing but a recluse.”

“We can fix that. Trust me.” Lucy smiled brightly.

For a moment Lewis stood silently, thinking about his wedding. He had lost his first wife, Deborah, two years earlier, to the flu. During the last decade, he had made a bundle of
money in the stock market, which had come as a great surprise to him. It had been fun while Deborah was alive, but after her death he had sunk into a deep depression, throwing himself into his business and making even more money to fill the emptiness. In a way, he could understand Hannah’s reluctance to be here, for he himself did not usually care for large parties.

“I’m too old for you,” he said abruptly.

“Nonsense!” Lucy retorted. “It’s going to be a wonderful marriage. We’re going to do tremendous things. You’ll see.”

“I hope so.” He shook his head sadly. “I’m worried about Hannah—and about Joshua.”

“He can change too. I’ll take him in hand. Come along, now. We’ve got to be better hosts than this!”

****

Joshua Winslow handled the big Packard with reckless ease, his wrist drooped over the wheel. It was obvious he’d had a few drinks. He turned and grinned at his friend Arlen Banks, who sat beside him. “Nervous, Arlen? Afraid I’ll pile us up?”

“You drive like a maniac, Josh! You’d scare anyone.” Arlen Banks was a tall, lanky man with dark hair, deep blue eyes, and aristocratic features. The two men were the same age and best friends. “It’s going to be a huge party, I understand. Jenny said Lucy invited half the people in New York.”

“Yes, she did. Even the Roosevelts are going to be here and maybe some of the Astors. You know Lucy.”

Arlen turned quickly. “You don’t sound too enthusiastic about your future stepmother.”

“She’s all right.” Josh shrugged. “She’ll shake Dad up a bit. I’ve been worried about him ever since Mom died. He hasn’t been himself.” He took a curve too fast and laughed as Arlen grabbed the seat to steady himself. “What about your brother Preston? What’s he doing now?”

“He’s in Europe on an extended honeymoon. Been there nearly a year,” Arlen said.

Josh swerved to avoid a chuckhole and did not answer at once. At the age of twenty-seven, he still possessed a boyish look. He was lean, and his alert gray eyes and tawny hair made him the cynosure of women’s attention. “You know, we all thought he’d marry Hannah. Does he ever talk about her?”

“Never mentions her.” Arlen hesitated before saying, “Is she any better?”

“No, she’s not. Can’t get her out of her room except to go to church. I think she’s getting worse.”

“Did she ever tell you why she broke off her engagement with Pres?”

“No, she never would discuss it, but it broke Mom’s heart. You know, up until that happened, Hannah was a lot like Jenny is now—lively and lots of fun, always doing things.”

“Yes, I remember. Has she ever been to see a doctor?”

“Dad made her go about a year after it happened, but it didn’t do any good. Of course people think she’s crazy.”

“Oh, I never hear that.”

“Well, they do, believe me. They think she’s a mental case, but she’s not. She’s as smart a woman as I ever saw.”

Josh pulled the car up in front of the Winslow house, an enormous brownstone mansion set far back off Fifth Avenue, bordering other properties of the rich and famous, right across from Central Park. Numerous cars lined the circular driveway, with chauffeurs waiting in each one while their employers enjoyed the party. Arlen studied the house as he got out. Lewis Winslow had bought it only a year earlier. The Romanesque house with a corner tower and a rounded-arch entrance was surrounded by short, thick colonnades. Arlen did not particularly like it, thinking it looked like a prison. “Do you like this house, Josh?”

“No, as a matter of fact, I don’t. It’s like living in a museum. Lucy talked Dad into buying it.”

“It’ll be a little strange having a stepmother only a few years older than you are, won’t it?”

Josh did not answer, and Arlen knew he’d touched a nerve. His friend had enough intelligence to do anything in life he wanted. Josh had studied archeology in college but had dropped out before his senior year. Arlen had always vaguely connected his change of attitude with the enormous amounts of money Lewis Winslow had made. Sudden wealth had somehow taken the drive out of Joshua, and he had become the proverbial playboy, enjoying fast cars, too much drink, and parties almost every night. Since he had quit school he had done nothing but waste his time. Arlen had once asked him if he would ever go back to college, but the answer had been curt.
“Nope. What’s the use?”

Earl Crane approached Joshua at the front entrance, saying, “I’ll park it, Mr. Winslow.”

“Thanks, Earl. Come on, Arlen.”

The two entered the massive front foyer under a glittering chandelier and were greeted at once by Lewis Winslow and Lucy. Lewis caught the scent of liquor on Joshua, and his lips tightened, but he merely said, “Hello, son. Hello, Arlen. It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you too, Mr. Winslow, and you, Miss Daimen. You’re lovely—as always.” He brought her extended gloved hand to his lips and gave an elegant bow, then turned and spotted Jenny dancing in the expansive drawing room turned ballroom for the occasion. He grinned saucily. “I’m going to cut in on Fred. He can’t dance anyway.”

As Arlen headed for the dance floor, Lewis said darkly, “I don’t see why you had to drink tonight, son.”

“I just had a couple, Dad. Don’t start preaching.”

Lewis shrugged his shoulders. “Why don’t you go up and talk to Hannah. See if you can get her to come down. It is Jenny’s birthday, after all.”

“All right. I’ll see what I can do.”

Josh took the steps up the curving front stairway two at
a time as Arlen threaded his way across the dance floor. He tapped Fred on the shoulder, and when the young man turned, he said, “Cutting in, Fred.”

Fred Simpkins said sourly, “I thought you would. Thanks for the dance, Jenny.”

“You’re welcome, Fred. Ask me again.”

Arlen took Jenny in his arms and swept her around the floor. “I like this better than the Charleston.”

“Nobody does the Charleston anymore,” Jenny said.

“I’m glad to hear that.” He spun her around, then said, “You’re looking very beautiful.”

“I knew you’d say that.”

“How did you know?”

“You always say that.”

“Well, you’re always beautiful.”

Jenny laughed. She couldn’t help liking Arlen Banks. She had begun seeing him only six months earlier, and he was fun to be with. He had plenty of money, as his father owned a number of factories that manufactured farm equipment. But Arlen was ten years older than Jenny—far too old to take as a serious suitor.

As they danced Arlen asked, “You know what I’m wondering?”

“What?”

“I was just wondering, if you were a little older, what kind of a married couple we’d make.”

“Arlen, that is the most unromantic thing a man has ever said to a woman!”

“What do you want me to do?” Arlen grinned. “After all, you’re only seventeen. I’ll have to wait at least another three or four years before you’re old enough to get married.”

“Well, it won’t be to you!”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll be too old then.”

Arlen laughed. “I suppose you’re right, but I can always dream. What’s your father going to get you for your birthday?”

“He’s already gotten it. A new mare. She’s gorgeous!”

“You’re going to break your neck one of these days riding those spirited horses.”

Without warning, Arlen leaned forward and kissed her square on the lips without missing a step, then laughed. “There. Happy birthday.”

Caught off guard, Jenny smiled and giggled as she shook her head. “You are the most unromantic man I have ever known! I would never marry you in a hundred years!”

“What if I learned to write poetry and play the guitar? How would that be?” He continued to tease her, and as they danced, she thought about how much she liked him and wished he were five years younger.

****

As soon as Joshua tapped on Hannah’s door, he heard her say, “Come in.” He went inside and glanced around, thinking how different the room was from Jenny’s. Stern, utilitarian, with few decorations. A massive rolltop desk dominated one wall, and across the room a set of enormous bookcases packed full rose to the ceiling. It was almost like an office, except for the mahogany bed with the lace canopy and the cherrywood antique washstand. The few pictures on the wall were original oils by well-known painters in the city—very expensive, Joshua knew. Even her choices in artwork were rather severe, he thought—traditional gardens and architecture, nothing splashy or modern. Hannah rose from the desk.

“You’re not dressed,” he said.

“Yes I am.”

Hannah Winslow, at the age of thirty, was attractive, with large brown eyes and shiny, thick auburn hair, though she insisted on pulling it back into a bun as a much older woman would wear it. She was not as beautiful as Jenny, but her features were stronger. Her eyes were expressive and her mouth firm. But there was a vulnerability about her that Josh had never been able to pin down. She’d had a happy childhood
but then had disappointed her family. They had all expected her to marry well and have children. Instead, she’d broken her engagement to Preston Banks and had confined herself to the house, refusing most social invitations. She read constantly and helped to manage the large house and servants but was little more than a recluse. She cared nothing for stylish clothes. Instead of the maroon evening gown Jenny had bought her for the party, she was wearing a plain light blue day dress that did not suit her.

“I thought you might come down for Jenny’s party.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“But Jenny said she bought you a new gown for the occasion.”

Hannah shook her head, and Joshua saw that gentle persuasion was not going to work. He stood there uncertainly and said, “You used to come to the birthday parties.”

“Just when it was the family.” Something changed in Hannah’s face. “I remember how wonderful it was when Mother was alive. We didn’t have a lot of money. Remember the house we grew up in?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

“It was a home, Joshua. At times I wish Father hadn’t made so much money.”

“I don’t wish that.”

“Josh, why did you give up on college?” Hannah’s voice was quiet, and there was a soft pleading in her eyes. She put out her hand and touched his arm. “You could have done anything you wanted to, but you just quit.”

Josh cringed at the stinging words. “It didn’t seem to matter anymore. We had plenty of money. I didn’t see any sense in working myself to death.” Then he made a remark he would not have made if he had been completely sober. “Why did
you
give up? I may be a drunk, but you’re a hermit. Neither of us can face life.” As soon as the words were out, Josh was repentant. “I’m sorry, sis,” he said. “It’s the liquor talking.”

Hannah whispered, “It’s all right, Josh, but you go on. There’s nothing down there for me.”

****

Leo Daimen was a tall, heavyset man of sixty. He had all the marks of the wealth he’d accumulated in railroads. He was very opposed to his only daughter’s marriage to the much older Lewis Winslow and had done all he could to talk Lucy out of it but without success.

“It’s a nice party, isn’t it, Father?” Lucy asked him.

“I suppose,” Leo replied gruffly. “But a bit ornate for a seventeen-year-old, I’d say.”

“Just between you and me, this party is as much for Lewis as it is for Jennifer. I want Lewis to come out of himself more, and I believe he will once we’re married.”

“I worry about this family, Lucy. They’re not stable. Why, just think of that older sister. She’s nothing but a hermit—something’s not normal there. And Joshua is becoming a fall-down drunk.”

“I’ll get them all straightened out once we’re married. They just need the influence of a sophisticated woman in this house, that’s all.”

At that moment Kat came along, and Lucy said brightly, “Oh, Katherine! Are you having fun?”

“Yes, actually I am.”

Lucy’s face fell as she spotted Kat’s shoes. “Why, you’ve got dirt all over your shoes.”

“I went outside for a bit.”

Lucy shook her head. “You should go to the kitchen and clean them off.” She looked at the paper bag in the girl’s hand. “What’s that?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, now. We have no secrets. Let me see it.”

“Do you really want to, Miss Lucy?”

“Of course I do.”

“Are you
sure?
”

Lucy laughed. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Well, all right.” Kat handed the woman the sack, and Lucy opened it. She froze as a small green snake stuck his head up out of the sack. She screamed and dropped the bag, and Kat whisked it up, grinning. “Don’t you like snakes?”