“Would it matter what I was talking about, dear sister? You were a hundred miles away in your thoughts. What, or maybe who, could be distracting you so?” she asked with a smile.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Elspeth said, staring straight ahead.
“Of course you don’t! You are too busy dreaming about Mr. Pendergast!”
“I am not dreaming of Mr. Pendergast! I barely know him, and I didn’t have a good impression of him when we were first acquainted.”
“You sat on the bench in front of the park for a full half hour, Elspeth.”
She turned her head sharply. “Surely it was not half an hour! I can hardly believe that.”
“Believe what you will, Elspeth. You sat with Mr. Pendergast for thirty-two minutes. Mrs. McClintok and I watched the clock.”
“Mrs. McClintok?”
“She was the one who originally opened the door, of course. She was as concerned about you as I was.”
“Mr. Pendergast was a perfect gentleman. We were never in private to fuel someone’s speculation,” Elspeth said. “He was upset and just wanted to talk. That’s all.”
“Let us hope no one tells Muireall. Here’s the market, and there is the first stall on our list. Come along,” Kirsty said.
But Elspeth had not moved. She swallowed and looked at her sister. “I feel as though I’ve betrayed her somehow, and I don’t even know why.”
“Muireall? She’ll probably never know. Come now. Everyone will be more likely to overlook some lapse if we come home with a long list of new customers.”
“Where are we going again?” Annabelle Pendergast asked her brother.
“We’re going to an outdoor market on Bainbridge Street.”
“Why in the world do we, and especially you, need to go to an outside market? Am I to believe that you need to purchase your own foodstuffs? What is Mrs. Emory going to say?”
Alexander’s housekeeper had the running of his bachelor town house and all the staff other than Baxter, his butler, from cleaning to meal planning and even decorating. There was no denying to his sister that the woman ran a tight and organized ship and would never have sent her employer out to purchase beans or coffee or a leg of lamb. She would be mortified if she knew.
“I just thought we might enjoy spending some time together, that’s all.”
“They told me. You needn’t wonder. I know.”
Alexander drove the two-seat gig with his sister beside him, holding her bag on her lap. He glanced at her and lifted the ribbons to get his carriage horse moving.
“I heard you were very upset,” she said.
“I was. Weren’t you? We had a brother, Annabelle. Father had . . . well, Father was the father.”
She smiled. “They had intimate relations, Brother. I know how babies are made.”
“Well. I was always told that unmarried women did not know the particulars.”
“Mother told me years ago. Not long after I was old enough to go to parties and outings with other young women and men. It was for my own good, you know,” she said. “It’s hard enough discerning the men interested in me and the men interested in my money, let alone which of them are merely trying to get me into their bed.”
Alexander shook his head. “I don’t want you to be duped by a man with less than honorable intentions, but isn’t that exactly what Father did? Wasn’t he less than honorable to Mother? To this woman?”
“Her name is Evelyn McMillan, née Gaines. She married a mason not long after our brother died, has three children, and is well situated as Mr. McMillan has been successful in his business.”
“How do you know all of this?”
“I didn’t stomp out of the house and not return. I was angry and upset, but I spoke to Father and Mother the following day. I wanted details. This was their life and, to a degree, should remain private, however it seems your employer is willing to use you as a pawn and expose Mother to ridicule. Will you oblige him? Mr. Schmitt?”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t like Schmitt’s methods, but I do like my job, and I never wanted to work at the mill. I’ve got to do something.”
“We both have enough money that we would not have to work a day in our lives and be quite comfortable. Although for me, for most females really, a career strictly refers to marriage.”
“Are you saying you don’t want to marry?” Alexander asked, hearing the plaintive note in his sister’s words.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve not met anyone that I feel more than a slight interest in.” She turned her head to stare at the passing scenery. “And what if my husband had a child with another woman?” she whispered. “I’m not sure I could be as forgiving as Mother.”
They stopped and secured a young boy to stand with the horse, and Alexander helped his sister down from the gig. They meandered through the aisles, occasionally stopping to examine some goods more closely. He looked up and saw Miss Thompson and her sister walking toward them.
“Miss Thompson,” he said and removed his hat. “What brings you to the market today?”
“Hello, Mr. Pendergast,” she said. “You remember my sister Kirsty?”
“Of course he does!” Miss Kirsty exclaimed. “He was kind enough to escort the both of us home, as I’m sure you remember. We are talking to vendors and shop owners who sell their wares here about handling our products.” She turned to the small wagon she was pulling. “We’ve jarred pickles and beets and potatoes for them to sample. What brings you and your friend out today, Mr. Pendergast?”
“This is my sister, Miss Annabelle Pendergast. These are the Misses Thompson.”
“Very nice to meet you,” Miss Elspeth said.
“Please call me Kirsty. What a beautiful comb in your hair, Miss Pendergast! The stand one aisle over has jeweled ones too. Would you like to walk there with me?”
Annabelle glanced at him and then at Elspeth Thompson, who was studiously staring at her gloved hands, and slipped her arm free. “That would be lovely. And please call me Annabelle.”
Alexander watched the two women walk away, already laughing and talking gaily. He glanced at Elspeth. What was it that drew him to her? She was beautiful, certainly, but that was not all of it. Why did he feel connected to her?
“Would you like to walk?” he asked. “I’ll be happy to haul your wares.”
She smiled and handed him the pull handle for the wagon. “You seem less upset today than you did a few days ago. I’m glad.”
He turned his head to her. “Anticipating our meeting has raised my spirits, it seems.”
“Mine also,” she said and turned away as if suddenly shy, then she stopped walking, waiting until he turned to her. “Why are we meeting today?”
“It’s a beautiful spring day. You’re someone I enjoy talking to,” he said.
“And that is all? No other reason? No other motive?”
“Motive? What do you mean?” he asked, suddenly a bit sick. Had someone said something to her? But he’d never agreed to Schmitt’s plan.
“Why did you come here when you knew I was going to be here?”