Rachel Baines took her arm.
“That story’s nothing,” Rachel Baines said. Priscilla Triggs looked over her shoulder at me, her eyes wide and filling with tears.
“But . . . ,” Priscilla said as Rachel Baines escorted her from the room.
“Did you know I was a nurse in the war?” Mrs. Baines said. “Well, let me tell you about the time I saved three boys from . . .”
Soon afterward, I excused myself to tend to the delivery that had arrived from Mrs. Brendel’s shop. With Ida’s and Harvey’s help, I spent the remainder of the morning decorating Sir Arthur’s house. We put bouquets of red and white roses in every room, except the Triggses’ bedroom, for flowers made the lieutenant sneeze. We laid boughs of holly across every windowsill and mantel throughout the house. We wrapped evergreen roping on the porch balustrade and pillars and draped it over every doorway, filling the house with the scent of fir and pine. As Harvey hung a branch of mistletoe from the entranceway chandelier, I couldn’t help but wish Walter were here.
All that was left was the red velvet ribbon to be draped from the dining room chandelier, and, most important, the Christmas tree. Although a vendor at Market House Square sold trees, I’d arranged for Harvey and me to take the horse and sleigh into the countryside to cut one down. I’d discovered a nice stand of white pines on one of my hikes. I was dressed to go and ready to leave when Ida came running out of the kitchen.
“He wants to see you, ja?” she said. Sir Arthur knew we were going to get the Christmas tree; what could it be now?
“Un, deux, trois. . . ,” I began to count under my breath.
I’d been looking forward to getting the tree. I’d made an effort all morning to enjoy the decorating and not dwell on the incident with Gertie and the consequences that followed. We hadn’t heard how the little girl fared and it took all of my discipline not to let it occupy my thoughts. But no Christmas was complete without a tree. I used to cut down our Christmas tree with my father when I was a little girl and had eagerly awaited doing it again for the first time as an adult, even if my only company was a gruff carriage driver. I was frustrated and let out a big sigh.
“Can you wait a few minutes, Harvey?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said, “but I won’t wait too long. Got too much shoveling to do.”
Sir Arthur was in the library.
“Come in,” he called after I knocked. “Ah, Hattie. This stuff is brilliant.” He had the notes General Starrett had dictated to me spread out on his desk before him. “I have a few points of clarification, but we’ll go over those later. First, this arrived for you.” He handed me an envelope of what looked like another Christmas card. It was postmarked St. Louis. I couldn’t recall knowing anyone from St. Louis. Then he picked up a simple, gold-bordered white card and waved it at me. I recognized it as General Starrett’s stationery. “Second, I have some interesting news for you.”
Tap. Tap. Tap. Someone knocked on the door. “Come in.”
“Sir Arthur, I was looking at what the servants have done in the front parlor and I thought”—Rachel Baines stopped when she saw me, but only momentarily—“ that the front parlor mantel was too plain for the prominence of the room. I think it needs more embellishments, like red ribbon and gold-painted pinecones. Several different-sized candles would do nicely as well. When we decorate our home in Chicago, we always have—”
“Certainly, Rachel. I want you to feel at home. If you want more candles and ribbon, I’m sure that can be easily arranged.”
“And gold-painted pinecones?” she asked.
“Of course.” Sir Arthur looked at me. I nodded my assent to take care of it. “Anything else?”
“Well, I would also like to discuss the menu for Christmas dinner.”
“Of course, if you don’t mind waiting. I was about to relay some news to Hattie, here. We won’t be long, as she’s off to cut down our Christmas tree.” I was pleased that he remembered but growing impatient to hear about Gertrude Reynard’s recovery. I was careful not to allow my countenance to reveal either emotion.
“Of course. For you Sir Arthur,” Rachel Baines said, “I’ll wait.” But instead of excusing herself from the room, she deliberately sat down. Sir Arthur didn’t seem to notice, but I did.
“Hattie, this is an invitation from the Reynards for their dinner party tonight,” Sir Arthur said, waving the card at me again.
“Yes, sir,” I said. What was his point? I’d been the one who had delivered the invitation myself. What more did that have to do with me? And what about the little girl? What about Gertrude Reynard?
“I’m looking forward to meeting Mrs. Reynard and this infamous General Starrett,” Mrs. Baines said. “Unfortunately, someone didn’t warn me that we would be invited out.” She playfully wagged her finger at Sir Arthur. “I packed all wrong. Now I’ll have to go shopping.”
“Um, yes. Main Street has every shop you could need,” Sir Arthur said, not knowing how to handle this interruption.
“And who is this Captain Starrett? I can’t seem to get anyone to tell me about this mysterious man,” Mrs. Baines said, laughing nervously. Now what did she have to be nervous about?
“Like I was saying, Hattie,” Sir Arthur said, not deigning to reply to this second interruption, “this invitation is for you.”
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