A Lady in Attendance Page 4

  She reached beneath her bed, pulled out her hatbox, and lifted the lid. The envelope on the top was the last note she’d received from her parents. They’d sent it to the reformatory, along with her trunks of clothes, her flute, and her other belongings. Her heart had broken reading their words, which had not been a complete surprise.

  To our beloved Hazel,

  We’re overjoyed knowing you’re about to leave the walls of the reformatory that have kept you from us for so long. That joy is dimmed by the reality of life here in Buffalo. Your sisters, as you know, are no longer little girls. It is our wish that they will find respectable matches. Your charges and past indiscretions have left a mark on the family, and we fear if you return, that stain will mar your sisters’ chances. Whereas if society believes we’ve parted ways, they will have ample opportunities to secure their well-deserved futures.

  As parents, our duty is to think of all our children and ask what is best for the whole. You have strength and spirit, and with the skills you’ve acquired while serving your time, you have a way to make it on your own, and so we ask that you not come home. Not now, but perhaps with time.

  We’ve sent money and some of your belongings to the matron on your behalf so you’ll be able to care for yourself. Be careful, dear girl, and know that even though you do not sit beside our hearth, you are in our hearts and prayers. Someday when the shame has faded further and the other children have secured their places in this world, we hope to be reunited with you.

  Until that time, you must not come to the house or contact your siblings. As hard and painful as this will be, we feel it is for the best.

  Your loving Father and Mother

  Hazel wanted to wad up the letter and throw it in a blazing fire, but they were the last words from her parents. And no matter how much she hated the feelings and the pain they brought, she loved the authors. For five years she’d dreamed of being reunited with her family, and now she was uncertain if she ever would.

  If only she’d been more like her obedient and proper siblings. Tears burned her eyes whenever she let herself walk the dismal road of what might have been.

  Curling onto her side, she held the letter tight to her heart and allowed herself to feel the loneliness she had tried so hard to ignore. But tonight, she felt it all. The hurt of being rejected by the world she had known. The loss of her family. The lies, the mistakes, the darkness. One tear at a time crept from the vault around her injured heart, then faster and harder the tears streamed from her like a river overflowing in a rainstorm.

  No matter how sorry or dire her circumstances, no matter how she ached with homesickness and longed for the touch of her mother, she would not return home—not until she could return with her honor reinstated. She’d disregarded her parents’ wishes often as a youth, but now as a woman she’d honor them and obey. Until the past was settled or they bid her return, she would eke out an existence for herself. And if the good Lord allowed, she would find some joy along the way.

  Crinkling the paper in her hands, she thought of her parents. One moment she felt deep sorrow and the next anger. Why send money? Why not hire a lawyer and fight to reinstate her into their world? Why hadn’t they done that right away, when she was first sentenced? But she knew the answer, and perhaps that’s what hurt most of all.

  They were not convinced she was innocent.

  “Be cautious,” her mother had warned the youthful Hazel before her real troubles had begun. “Things that seem so insignificant now can have far-reaching effects.”

  “Stop worrying,” Hazel snapped back. “I think you would keep me from ever having any fun if you could. You want me to grow into a dull spinster or you want to marry me off to a fool. I don’t want that for myself. I want to enjoy my life.”

  “You’re wrong. I would not keep you from having a good time. I love few things more than the look on your face when you are truly happy. But, Hazel, your eyes sparkle when they are full of joy. These past few years, your eyes have turned dark. You are more than headstrong. You are reckless, and the cost of your thoughtlessness will catch up to you. Your father will not tolerate the behavior you’ve displayed forever. You will tarnish not only your name but ours as well. Besides, what good am I as a mother if I don’t try to keep you from harm? If I don’t call out your indiscretion and steer you back to safety?”

  Hazel brushed her mother’s concerns away, insisting that she fretted too much.

  “I can take care of myself,” she’d said, her free spirit adamant that nothing horrible could ever befall her.

  More tears came with the memories and the realization that her mother had been right. The years of hardship and pain as she served her sentence and now the months of severed ties all felt like a heavy cost for a bit of foolhardy recklessness. An ounce of wisdom and a measure of discretion, and she could have avoided it all.

  When she had first left the reformatory, she had headed back toward Buffalo and the world she’d known, stopping mere miles from the family she could not claim. A small rented room and days filled with nothing followed as she struggled to make sense of her future and regain her confidence in a world with no walls. One afternoon, weeks after her arrival, she dared to venture up into the nearby hills in search of anything that might enliven her spirits. It had been a beautiful day, with a light breeze and flowers in full bloom. For the first time in a long while, she felt hope. Hope that was swiftly shattered. She returned to find that the money from her parents that she had so carefully rationed had been stolen. Only the meager amount in her reticule remained.

  She yearned to run home to her parents and beg them to rescue her from this path of endless trouble. What she wouldn’t have given at that moment to be held and coddled and taken care of like she’d been as a child. Instead, she packed her bags and began searching for a job and more affordable living quarters.

  There would be no going home. Not now and probably not ever. She put the note back in her box and shoved it forcefully under her bed.

  CHAPTER

  FIVE

  Gilbert looked at the clock. It was three minutes past nine, and Hazel hadn’t arrived for work. She usually pranced in ten minutes before her scheduled time with a smile on her face and her red hair bouncing behind her.

  When he finally heard the familiar squeak of the front door, a strange flutter raced through his chest, followed by relief. But when his eyes left the schedule in his hands and wandered to the door, they did not see Hazel. There was no red hair, no good-morning smile. Instead, there was Alberta Robertham, with her mouse-brown hair in a tight bun and her all-too-familiar frown plastered across her face. No other patient made Gilbert’s innards clench like Alberta did. She was never satisfied. She constantly told him how she hated being there, and she was convinced she knew all there was to know about teeth, despite the fact that she rarely cleaned her own.

  “Good day, Miss Robertham,” he said as he rose from his seat.

  “How can you call this a good day? Do you not see where I am?”

  “I suppose we will just have to make the best of it.” It did suddenly feel like a miserable place. If only Hazel were there, she might add some bit of light to the darkness. He glanced past Alberta to the door.

  “What are you looking at? Is there something back there?”

  “No, not a thing.” He kept his voice level. “Come along.”

  “If you’re looking to see if the door is closed, of course it is. I wasn’t raised in a barn,” she snapped at him. “I have a tooth that’s ailing me, and I expect you to do something about it.” Red splotches appeared across her face as she fumed. The effect made her look like someone who’d had an encounter with a patch of poison ivy. “I’ll need it fixed quickly, and I need there to be no pain. I plan to attend a social this afternoon.” Alberta hoisted her wiry body into the chair, not waiting for an invitation. “Go on, get to work.”

  Gilbert fought the urge to groan aloud. Instead, he busied his mind by thinking up terribly rude things he could
say to Alberta if he were only a little bolder.

  For an entire hour he endured the rigors of working on Alberta’s ailing tooth. Even with his instruments in her mouth, she still managed to complain with her wicked birdlike eyes and deep scowl.

  As the moments ticked by, he missed Hazel more fervently. A few weeks together and already he knew she’d be able to appease the unpleasant Alberta. Come to think of it, he knew a lot about Hazel. He knew as the day heated up and the little office grew warmer, she’d use the back of her arm to wipe the sweat from her brow. At noon she would take a brief walk outside and her hair would look a brilliant red. When she came back in, her cheeks would be rosy and she’d be smiling. She would ask him questions he would have to think about and might even struggle to answer, but once he did find the answers, he’d be glad she’d asked. Somehow she had created a spot for herself in his little office. Even the sound of her going from room to room was unique, and he missed it now.

  “Just about done,” he said to Alberta as he removed the dam he’d used to protect her gums and make it harder for her to talk. With its removal, he braced himself for the flood of words he knew she had been holding back.

  “That took long enough. I remember your father. He moved with a great deal more speed.”

  “I’m sure he did.” Gilbert leaned away. “He was an excellent dentist. I believe he would be pleased with the work I’ve just done.”

  “Adequate, I suppose, but it’s not worth telling folks about.”

  “No praise needed. I’m content knowing you are out of pain.”

  A few more words shot from her mouth as she paid, then she left the office. Gilbert closed the door behind her, then sank into one of the waiting room chairs, tipped back his head, and closed his eyes. He had survived Alberta Robertham, and that was no small feat.

  Hazel burst through the door. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She paused when she saw him. “Oh, Gilbert, are you all right?” She dashed to him, a look of genuine concern written across her soft face.

  “No, I’m not all right. I had to endure Alberta Robertham without you. Where were you?”

  “Alberta?”

  “You haven’t met her, but you will. She always comes back. Then you’ll know why I am near death now.” He moaned dramatically until his antics turned into a laugh. “I don’t know why I’m laughing.” His shoulders continued to shake. “She really is a horrible woman.”

  The worry left Hazel’s eyes and was replaced by their usual sparkle. “I look forward to meeting your Alberta. She has you acting practically giddy. I do believe she brings out a new side of you.”

  “She is not my Alberta.” Eh, the very thought of it. Nothing would entice him to attach himself to someone who drained the life out of him like Alberta did. “This”—he pointed toward himself—“is not what giddy looks like.”

  “Come now. She must be quite a woman to have you so beside yourself.” Hazel muted a laugh. Even with her hand covering her mouth, he could tell she was smiling.

  “You have misinterpreted the type of woman Alberta is. She is loud and bossy. She’s hard to describe—there is no one like her.”

  Hazel pursed her lips. “She sounds a bit like me. I’ve been called loud a time or two, and my nanny always said I was the bossiest child she ever met.”

  “No. You’re wrong,” he said with conviction. “You talk a great deal, but it’s pleasant and your wit is flawless, and I’ve yet to see you give orders when it has not been your place. You’re not a thing like Alberta.”

  “I don’t deserve such praise.” A sad look flashed across her face, and for the briefest moment he knew she was hurting, but he didn’t know why. He was not drawn to gossip, but he wished he knew what it was that weighed on her. As quickly as the look of sadness came, she smiled it away. “I am glad you don’t find my company appalling or too overbearing.”

  All joking aside, he held her gaze and in a steady voice said, “I meant what I said. Your presence, it is delightful, a pleasure.”

  He’d never complimented a woman so openly. He waited, expecting to grow flustered or feel a sense of regret over the words, but he felt none.

  “Thank you,” she said without looking away. “Now I must apologize again for being late. I hope you can forgive me.”

  He nodded and waited, hoping for an explanation. In the short time he’d known her, he’d already learned that if he waited and let the silence hang, she’d fidget until she finally said what she was holding back.

  “I didn’t mean to be late,” she said, interrupting the silence. “I was busy last night and didn’t get much sleep. It was so late when I finally went to bed . . . I shouldn’t even be telling you all this, as it’s most improper. But, well, when I closed my eyes, it was for much longer than I had intended. I never would have allowed myself to even sit if I’d thought I would sleep so long. It won’t happen again.”

  Her explanation left him puzzled. What in the world was she doing up so late? Was she with someone? Their first meeting left him with the impression that she had no interest in courtship. Was it a farce? Or had she been trying to tell him she already had someone? Suddenly that first conversation seemed fuzzy in his mind, and he could not remember the words she’d used. A knot rose in his throat. Swallowing was normally an easy task, but now, at this moment, it was presenting a challenge.

  Perplexed and somewhat afraid of his own feelings, he walked away from the waiting room. She was a free and independent woman capable of choosing who she spent her time with. “We have three more patients scheduled for the morning. I’m going to work on my notes,” he said as he put some distance between them.

  She hobbled after him. “Wait.”

  Stopping, he turned back toward her and, breaking character, blurted, “What happened to your feet?”

  “You’ve become so bold.” She laughed while limping. “Blisters.”

  “Your shoes?” He looked at her scuffed boots. “Do you need new ones?”

  “I walked too far, that’s all. No need to worry.” Hazel looked at the day’s schedule. “It should be an easy morning. I’m glad. We’ve been so busy lately, and it’ll be a nice change of pace.”

  “Yes, I thought so too,” he said absently, still looking at her feet. “As I am your employer, you will tell me if you are in need, will you not?”

  Her face turned a subtle shade of pink, like a soft rose. “That’s very kind, but I can assure you that my feet are not your responsibility. You needn’t worry.”

  “I wish to help if you are ever in need, whether it be my responsibility or not. I’m not only a dentist, but I’m also a man.” His heart beat faster, but he pressed on. So often he thought of himself as only a dentist. He worked and then went home and did little else, but today he acknowledged that he was more than just his job. “What I mean is, are we not, as humans, meant to look after one another? Not simply when it affects business but at all times. To mourn, to comfort, and to aid?”

  “I believe we are,” she whispered. “But I’ve not met many people who do more than talk of their Christian duty.” She assembled instruments as she spoke, her eyes refusing to meet his own. “Eloise should arrive soon.”

  “You’ll like her. She never complains,” he said, tapping his fingers to the ever-increasing beat of his heart. “I have bandages if it would help your feet.”

  “I haven’t had time to do anything for them. I don’t know what will help.”

  “Between patients, let me take a look?” Heat raced up his face. He’d never looked at a woman’s feet, but he did not rescind his offer. A fierce longing to assist and protect her grew with each word he spoke. It burned within him, igniting a flame he hadn’t known before. “I wish to help.”

  “I couldn’t.” She turned toward the window. “Look, our patient is here.”

  Their conversation was put on hold as they cared for sweet old Eloise. When she left, she kissed Hazel’s cheek and called her a darling girl. Hazel limped beside the older woman as she walked h
er to the door and closed it behind her.

  “Your feet,” Gilbert said the moment they were alone again. He retrieved some bandages from a cabinet and handed them to her. “We’ve a few minutes more before Duncan is scheduled to arrive, but he’s often late, so you ought to have at least half an hour.”

  She looked around but didn’t sit. Sensing her unease, he pointed to his private office. “You may go in there if you wish. Then if Duncan arrives early, he won’t see you.”

  She nodded, took the bandages, and smiled weakly at him before escaping to his small office and seating herself in his chair. The door was open, but with her back to him, he couldn’t see the extent of her injuries. When he heard her sniffle, he stepped closer to the open door. An ache deep in his chest grew with each painful sound. “Are you all right?”

  “Several of the blisters began bleeding again when I took off my boots. There are more than I’d thought.”

  The office felt warm and sticky, where only moments before it had been comfortable. He wiped his forehead before asking, “May I help you? In my training, we learned more than just teeth. I can handle a wound.”

  “If you are certain it crosses no line,” she said in a voice much weaker than normal.

  Two swift steps later he was beside her, where he dared a glance at her small feet. They were half the size of his own and covered in bloody blisters rather than smooth skin. Anger boiled through his veins, but he didn’t know who or what to direct it toward. He only knew he wished he had the power to ease her burden and fight off whatever brought this about. He gritted his teeth and reminded himself he did not know enough to judge who was at fault—if anyone at all. What he knew was that her feet would be sore for some time, and proper care would help them heal. “Let me get some water, and I’ll wash them before bandaging them.”

  He left, only to return a moment later with a bowl of clean water.

  “I think they hurt worse now than they did last night. But maybe I didn’t notice because I was in such a hurry and so tired.”