Chapter 9: The Next Day

I awoke the next day an hour or so before noon, with a great deal of confusion and a small but bothersome headache. I was in a bed and felt a great weight on my arm. Opening my eyes, I found myself back in my room, in my own bed, and the weight on my arm proved to be James’ hand clasping mine. He was sitting in an armchair, still dressed from the previous night but without his coat or hat or ascot and with his shirt mostly undone, and amazingly, was unshaven! I attempted to retrieve my hand and asked, “What happened?”

James bolted upright and stared at me as I struggled awake. “You’re awake!” he exclaimed, then jumped up and ran from the room. “She’s awake! She’s awake!” he announced, then ran back in.

By then I had struggled upright in my bed, and pulled the covers up over my bosom, most immodestly showing through the very thin silk night shirt I wore. “What in the world is going on?” I demanded. “What happened?”

My uncle was followed into my chamber by a woman of about thirty years, dressed as one of the Waldorf Astoria’s maids, and an older man, in his fifties, I should hazard, dressed in a mussed suit. The man sat down by my side on the bed and began to peer and poke at me. I waved him off and demanded again, “What is going on?”

“How do you feel, Caroline? Are you alright?” pleaded James. He had the most dreadful look of worry on his face.

“I shall be just fine. What happened last night? The last I remember you were fighting that gang of thieves.”

“Then you do remember what happened?” asked the other man. He turned to my uncle and said, “That’s a very good sign, an excellent sign.”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Um, yes, we haven’t been introduced, have we? I’m Doctor Latimer, the house physician. Your Uncle summoned me last night and we have been up all night waiting for you to wake. How do you feel?”

“Fine, I suppose. I have a headache. How should I feel?” I asked.

He smiled. “Probably like you have a headache. Here, let me take a look at you.” This time I allowed him to look at my eyes and feel around my head.

I felt a sharp pain as he touched the back of my skull and gasped, “Owww! James, did you shoot me last night?”

James looked stricken, but before he could protest his innocence, Doctor Latimer chuckled and said, “If that had been the case it would be Saint Peter checking you over, not me. I think you fainted, young lady, and you hit your head, probably on the sidewalk.” I reached up and gingerly touched where I hurt. I could feel a small lump that smarted, but it was not bandaged, and I could feel no cut, nor dried blood. “So, you remember what happened, then?”

“Yes, sir, perfectly.”

“Fine.” The doctor stood and faced my uncle and the maid. “Your niece is fine, sir, as I predicted. For now, I think a hot bath, some broth and bread, and rest will do wonders. If anything comes up, simply call for me, the front desk has my number.” He smiled and took his leave of me, then was gone. The maid called down for the broth and bread, then came back to the bedside where James had rejoined me, taking my hand.

He was in the most profound state, tears rolling down his darkly tanned face and wetting his mustaches as he knelt by my bedside, wringing my hands piteously. “I am so sorry; I am so sorry!” he kept repeating. “How could I let this happen?”

I embraced him most fondly. “You saved my life, James. How can I repay you?”

The maid intervened, saying, “The doctor suggests a bath. Unless you plan on helping, you had better let go.” Startled, my uncle dropped my hand as if it were a hot potato and stepped back. The maid laughed and helped me to my feet. I was a touch wobbly at first, but rapidly regained my composure.

I turned to face James, dressed only in my shift. It was very short, barely reaching my thighs, very low cut, and quite sheer. I had planned on wearing it later in the week, after the ball, by which time James would have begun treating me like a lover and not a niece. “James, were you the one who dressed me in this?” I asked coyly.

James gave a loud ‘Harumph’ and whirled away from me, his face darkening with mortification.

The maid giggled and led me to the bath. “Actually, I was the one to change you. Your Uncle simply grabbed the first thing out of the drawer and thrust it at me, then ran from the room. It’s gorgeous! I wish I could have something like that,” she commented dreamily. She was very pretty, small and trim.

“Well, I had been intending it to be a surprise, but I am afraid the surprise is ruined now. Would you like it? Or should I ask, would your husband like it?”

She stared at me with greedy fascination. “No! I couldn’t!”

I whisked it off and handed it to her. “Here, hold it up to the mirror. Trust me. This is the only time I have ever worn it. I have something else which will be a surprise.” She held it against herself as she looked in the glass. “Your husband will love it, and if not, your lover will.”

She laughed at this and placed it aside. “Hah! My husband. I am not that depraved, at least not yet.” She thrust a robe at me. “Now, put this on before you catch your death of cold.” She bent to the tub and began to draw the water.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Mary, Mary Johnson.”

“Well, Mary, Mary Johnson, I am Caroline Pendrake. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” I held out my hand and Mary shook it firmly.

“Pleased to meet you, too, Miss Pendrake. I guess you had some excitement last night,” she said. I described the events of the previous evening as the tub filled, and then settled into it. We continued talking as I bathed and completed my toilet. At one point she commented upon my ‘surprise’ and the fact that it was my uncle that I was surprising. She nodded in understanding as I explained that James was not my real uncle but more of a third or fourth cousin. “And now you are looking to tighten the bonds of family to something a bit closer?” I could but grin and nod.

“Have you been here all night?” I asked.

“Yes, ever since your uncle brought you back. I was on duty and helped the doctor take care of you, then he insisted that we both stay until you awoke.”

“All night? What will your husband say when you show up so late?”

“Not to worry. Your Uncle was most generous, and truth be told, we catnapped in the parlor most of the night. David is a bellman here, and when I explained it to him, he said I would be a fool if I didn’t.”

“Good for you. Now you have something to reward him for his patience.” I indicated the night shirt on the vanity.

Mary grinned wickedly. “I think so. You realize that since I am almost half a head taller than you, the hem on that thing won’t cover everything that it covers on you.”

“So?” I asked. “What you do is send him to bed first, then change into it. Do you have some slippers with a tall heel?” At her nod, I continued, “Good! Put them on as well and leave the light on. That had been my plan, but I see no reason it won’t work for you! You won’t get any sleep for a second night, but I doubt you will complain in the morning!” I exclaimed.

By the time my ablutions were finished, and Mary had obtained another night shirt and robe for me, a waiter had wheeled in a small cart with some broth and milk and an assortment of rolls and pastries. Mary handed me a newspaper and showed me an article describing the events of the preceding night. I read it with considerable interest as I dined. James sat with me quietly, and I had to reassure him several times that I held him to no blame in any way.

Finally, I began to feel tired, and Mary helped me back to bed, then took the cart and cleaned the table. She retrieved her new present surreptitiously and took her leave, to almost run over a gentleman who had just begun to knock upon our door. She let him in, and I saw that he was a trim and dapper young man in a pinstriped brown suit and bowler hat. “Hello. I am Detective Barnstop of the New York City Police. I am investigating the incident of last night and was hoping to speak to you. You are Miss Pendrake, aren’t you?” He stopped and glanced at a small notebook as he said this. “I was in the neighborhood, so to speak, and I thought that you might be awake by now.”

“I was the last time I noticed, sir,” I quipped. I pulled the covers up and sat up in the bed to face him. James settled some pillows behind me. “How can I help?” I asked. James pulled up a chair for the man to sit in, then sat down in the armchair he had slept in last night and held my hand.

“Well, I should care to hear your recounting of the events. I simply want my investigation to be thorough, you understand.” He espied the newspaper on the bed and sighed. “Oh dear, I had been hoping that you hadn’t read any newspapers, they tend to muddy the waters dreadfully.”

“I should say so, sir, considering the story published was the most utter rubbish! I have never read such tripe in my life!”

Detective Barnstop was taken aback at this statement. “Really, Miss, then you remember what occurred? I was under the impression that you had fainted dead away. What can you tell me of the events?”

I misunderstood and picked up the newspaper. “Well, for instance, in here they state that the four men surrounded us and boxed us in, when they never did such. They were rather in a semicircle in front of us.” Using my hands, I described an arc, then placed the miscreants at the appropriate positions. “To our left was a fairly stout person, dark and swarthy, and several inches taller than I, next a much taller and slimmer man, but younger, then two similarly built men who looked much alike, as if they were brothers. All the men were in their early twenties, I should say, and wore rather common clothing.”

The detective was writing furiously in his pad as I spoke. Continuing, I said, “And then, in this paragraph, it states, ‘ ... the scurrilous leader of the nefarious foursome taunted Mister MacAllister of the unwholesome liberties they planned for the maiden and dared him to stop them, flaunting their weapons. Mister MacAllister responded, promising to thrash them all soundly if so much as a hair on his intimate companion’s head was harmed, at which point the ruffians challenged him to do so. Mister MacAllister then proceeded to do so in a most deadly manner!’ Now really, sir, this is the sheerest folly. They never taunted us once, but simply demanded our money and jewelry. Uncle James never said a word, certainly not to do something so rash as challenge the four of them. Worst of all, I should dearly like to know how I went from a maiden in one clause to an intimate companion in the next! That insults me by proclaiming me a harlot and insults my uncle by implying that he is the type of gentleman who would have such!” I ran out of steam at that point, which was probably for the best, as it allowed the detective a chance to catch up on his scribbling. “Really, sir, how can a newspaper get away with such a thing? The Times would never allow this, I can tell you!”