Chapter 5

April 15, 1867

Elizabeth Carter looked at her image in the large oval mirror that stood near the windows in her bedroom. She was finally pleased with what she saw. It had taken a great deal of her time and Abby’s efforts to find the right dress and bonnet and other items required of a lady before leaving the house.

The bed behind her was piled with discarded choices and she knew it would take Abby some effort to make the room presentable again. Elizabeth’s frustration had mounted through the morning as she tried each dress and found it unsuitable for today’s journey to the bank where she hoped to find Jonathan. Would there be a confrontation? Elizabeth knew she had to cease thinking in those terms. She wanted no more confrontations with him. She simply wanted Jonathan home again and back in their bed where he belonged.

She was thankful that at least the weather was cooperating. The rain of the previous days had been overtaken by the bright spring sunshine that streamed through her windows, giving a hint of the warmth to come in the weeks ahead.

She didn’t have much appetite and her stomach was upset, but Abby had convinced her to take some sweetened tea and toast. She attributed her current state to nerves in anticipation of seeing Jonathan. When he had not reappeared yesterday, Sunday, her concern mounted. It was exacerbated by the fact that when she sent a note around to Jonathan’s club, Mrs. Adams’ son James, had returned with the news that no one there had seen Jonathan since he had taken luncheon there on Friday. Inquiries at the stables had been equally fruitless.

These actions were certainly not those of her Jonathan, and Elizabeth had become increasingly concerned. She had slept badly for the second night in a row – her slumber interrupted by disturbing dreams - often picturing her alone and stranded in the direst of circumstances bereft of Jonathan’s strong and reassuring presence. One thing she could rely on was Jonathan’s dedication to Ross Bank. He was never absent, and with the recent loss of her father his presence was ever so important. If Jonathan would not come to her she would go to him.

The thought of the impending meeting did nothing to quell her queasiness. She had behaved rudely on Friday evening, and with his continuing absence she had tried to convince herself that there was much more than her uncivil behavior that had driven Jonathan from their home. As she readied herself, she had refused to consider any other possibility than that on her arrival she would find Jonathan seated at his desk at the bank. He was always there.

She was proud of his dedication and his commitment to the bank and the welfare of the family. Unfortunately, she never told him or really paused to reflect that their livelihood was a result of his efforts. Had she married one of those New York dandies who so ardently sought her hand, what kind of future would fate have had in store for her? She thought about her brother Mark. Elizabeth had asked herself more than once if he would ever attain the level of maturity that Jonathan possessed. She shook her head acknowledging that there was little likelihood that Mark would ever be more than a boy in a man’s body. That condition seemed to be more settled upon him as he got older and refused to change his dissolute ways.

During her nighttime wakefulness she had envisioned her meeting with Jonathan. Her temptation was to rush to him and throw herself into his arms seeking the reassurances that were so absent these last few days. She would tearfully apologize for her transgressions and vow to be a better wife and that she would never again go against his wishes.

Elizabeth examined herself in the mirror and tried to smile. Even her attempt at a smile failed her as she realized that she had made that pledge before, at least to herself. She always found herself rebelling against his not unreasonable wishes. More often than not, her actions were prompted by her mother. It was times like this that she realized how much she missed her father and his wise counsel. He would know what to do and in the past months, as he was slipping away, he cautioned his ‘Lizzie’ that she was too headstrong and that some humility would suit her better, especially when dealing with Jonathan.

She recalled a time, just a few days before his death, when she was sitting near his bed. Her mother was mostly absent during these final days, claiming she was too distraught to attend him. He was mostly asleep during that time, drugged with laudanum to ease the pain and the terrible bouts of coughing that marked the course of the wasting disease that was causing his demise. She looked up from a book she was reading and saw him watching her.

“Lizzie, my lovely Lizzie ... Come to see your father off have you?”

He smiled, a tired smile, knowing that his time on earth was not long. She moved quickly to his bedside and half threw herself on him, sobbing with loss. He weakly patted her back and then stroked her hair as he had when she was a child, recovering from some illness. She was distressed at how little remained of her once robust parent, and then pulled back realizing how the weight of her must have hurt him, but he made no complaint.

In a voice barely over a whisper he said, “Lizzie, take care of Jonathan. He needs you, especially now.”

She nodded as the tears flowed, dampening the sheet that covered his frailness.

“Jonathan will make everything right, and he’ll ensure you and your mother are cared for. He’s a good man, maybe too good for you Lizzie.”

He smiled as he said it, but it hurt her to realize that his statement might contain more than a kernel of truth. During their marriage, she had sometimes wondered if that was the case, but Jonathan never complained about her willfulness. She loved him, and she knew despite all her faults he loved her. She also knew her father was correct - Jonathan would take care of the family.

“I love you Lizzie, take care of Jonathan.”

“I love you Daddy.”

Those were his last words. A week later he was buried in the small cemetery near their church. It was a day that spat rain and threatened to tear the umbrellas from the hands of the mourners, which were many. Abner Ross was a fine man, well respected, and his loss was felt deeply in the community. She was amazed at the number of people who came to show their respect. They were a cross section of New York, and among them were trades people and others her father had helped to success, or people he had helped from his own pocket during troublesome times.

That evening, devastated by the loss she had turned to Jonathan and their joining could only be described as fierce with passion. Perhaps she needed to remind herself that though she had lost the most important man in her early life, she still had Jonathan, and he would indeed take care of the family, and the family business.

Elizabeth sat on the bed and blotted her eyes. She and Jonathan had not been intimate since, and she knew it was her fault. For the past month she had acted like a spoiled child, using her grief as an excuse for her inattention to Jonathan and her disagreeable manners. She knew he tolerated her actions, but she now worried that her failings had driven him away. She thought ruefully that she would not have accepted that type of behavior from him. All her life, strong men had loved her and taken care of her and that had seemed to only encourage her willfulness. She admitted, introspection was not her strong suit, and coupled with her sense of entitlement, had caused friction. She always had good intentions, but she also understood the truthfulness of the saying, ‘the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.’

Now she would have to meet with him and beg his forgiveness and attempt to discover what troubled him, hoping it wasn’t solely attributable to her uncaring and cold, yes cold demeanor. She would be devastated if Jonathan rejected her. She turned away from those thoughts. He loved her, she was his wife and he would forgive her, and she would be a better wife. He would see how she would take her father’s words to heart and take care of Jonathan. She would force herself to put away her childish ways.

Quite suddenly the image of Jonathan with another woman caused her heart to skip, and the despair she felt threatened to overwhelm her. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and grasped the tall wooden bed post as she tried to push those thoughts away. Had her selfishness and neglect of him forced such an action? That could be one explanation for his absence. She was not so naive that she didn’t know successful men in New York often times carried on liaisons with women not their wives. She had seen the envious glances of women as she accompanied Jonathan to various social events – even some married women seemed to vie for his attention. He was a handsome man and he was a hero of the late war and highly respected.

Had their marriage become such a failure and disappointment he was driven to seek love and companionship elsewhere? Elizabeth tried to dismiss these thoughts. Not her Jonathan. It was little comfort to know that if he was engaged in some impropriety he would never flaunt the fact by disappearing for days at a time. No, he would not cause her embarrassment.

With grim determination she pushed these thoughts away and stood before the mirror, once again examining her image. Her dress was blue, his favorite, her hair was pinned up carefully, and her bonnet was covered with tiny blue silk flowers. She smiled sadly, knowing the effect she had elicited from Jonathan in the past. Could she hope to win him again? Yes, she would go to him at the bank and discover what was troubling him and together they would work to set things to right.

Abby reappeared, her sunny disposition a counterpoint to her own worries. “James brought the carriage around Miss. It’s a fine spring day and perfect for a ride. You do look quite fetching this morning. I’m sure you’ll bring Mr. Carter home with you this very afternoon.”

Abby winked at her, which caused her to blush. She’d been thinking along those lines too, wanting to feel Jonathan against her and hear him say words of love and have him hold her and reassure her. Thoughts about other women were banished.

It was indeed a perfect spring day for a ride, but still cool enough to require a cloak. She watched the crowded streets with unseeing eyes as they traveled to the bank - her mind filled with uncertainty. How would he receive her?

Even with all her preparations and determination to see Jonathan her mind was still filled with doubts upon arriving at the bank. In the spring sunshine, somehow the bank’s imposing gray portico seemed less daunting, although she always felt banks were less than welcoming. She hoped the sunshine was an omen foretelling joyful days ahead.

As James handed her down from the carriage she could feel her mood lighten. She could picture Jonathan, looking up at her as she swept into his office and saying something in the nature of, ‘There you are Elizabeth, ‘ and launch into an explanation of his absence which would put all her fears to rest. Yes, he would have a logical explanation. Most likely he was delayed and absent having to do with the bank and some important business. He had just neglected to tell her. She had searched her memory for some comment by Jonathan that she had overlooked, although she often paid scant attention to his comings and goings, so certain of his faithfulness to her and the bank.

Perhaps all her worries were for nothing.

She smiled as James accompanied her up the steps. She stopped before the massive oak doors. “Thank you James, I’ll see myself in.”

He looked disappointed, but quickly masked it with a smile. “I’ll be ‘round back Ma’am.”

James was Cook’s son and perhaps seventeen. He was a man now and devoted to the household. Abby maintained that he’d been an admirer of Elizabeth, ever since he and his mother joined the household. She was flattered but discounted the notion. James was handsome with reddish hair and many of the girls on the street had set their cap on landing him. In many ways he reminded her of Jonathan. He was dependable and devoted and according to Cook, quite the student. She knew Jonathan encouraged his studies, and also knew he had helped financially, allowing James to buy the necessary supplies for school. He also had free reign of Jonathan’s vast library.

As Elizabeth stood on the slate landing with rapidly beating heart, one of the massive doors swung open. She was surprised to see it wasn’t Tomkins there to greet her. Tompkins was a fixture at the bank, having opened the doors to customers for as many years as she could remember. She hoped he wasn’t ill. The new man was much younger and had an impudent gaze and demeanor. She was uncomfortable as his eyes traveled over her body. Elizabeth straightened and ignored him, and without a word walked across the marble floor directly to Mr. Meeker’s desk which was immediately outside Jonathan’s office.

Albert Meeker was an earnest young man who had shown great promise and as an assistant to Jonathan was indispensible. He dressed conservatively and was considered most dour, but Jonathan had explained that was a facade and Mr. Meeker possessed a wit as sharp as his mind. He was Jonathan’s eyes in the bank, since from his desk he could observe all the transactions across the large marble-walled lobby flanked by the cages for the tellers. There were only two private offices; one belonged to Jonathan, the other to her father. Jonathan had yet to move into that office, although by rights he could have as the President, but of course Jonathan, out of respect, would not rush that relocation.

There were dark wood desks in the back of the lobby where more senior employees were seated. Mr. Johnson, now retired, had sat at one of those. The area was defined by a polished oak rail which separated it from the main lobby. One of the desks was assigned to Mark. As usual, there was no sign of him. That caused her to wonder what Jonathan would do about him. She didn’t want to think about the family strife it would cause if Jonathan dismissed him, but she knew there was no love lost between the two and Mark would never be an asset to the Bank. In fact, she knew he was simply a family member whose continued employment was a drain on the Bank’s assets. He, like his friends, was incapable of holding a responsible position outside the family sinecure.

As Elizabeth approached Meeker’s desk she noticed something very curious, it was completely devoid of paper. Mr. Meeker was always very tidy and could be relied to keep his desk that way, but he was always busy with bank business, which was readily apparent. Today there was nary a scrap. Elizabeth frowned at this puzzling situation.

As she stood at the desk she thought she could feel the eyes of everyone upon her. Well, there was nothing for it but to beard the lion in his den. She walked erect and with a determined step which belied her true feelings she moved to Jonathan’s office door and without pause she entered.

Jonathan was not there. She didn’t know whether she was relieved or disappointed. She quietly closed the door behind her, still feeling as if she was being observed by everyone in the bank.

Where could he be?

Jonathan was a busy man, and of course could be meeting with an important client, but she knew most of those meetings took place in one of the two offices. She doubted he would be using her father’s office. Many days he took luncheon out, but it was not quite half past eleven. She looked around with an unsettled feeling. Everything seemed normal enough, as she gazed at the large maple desk and the rest of the furnishings, but there was a strange feeling of unnatural quiet here. The smell of cigar smoke permeated the room but it wasn’t recent. She walked around the desk and ran her gloved hand along the top of the back of the large leather-covered chair, as if trying to feel Jonathan there.