We had reached the dappled shade of spreading chestnut trees as the path left the lakeside. The effect was instant, like stepping into a pool of cool water. “Ah, that's better,” Daniel said. “Look, there's a bench under that tree. Let's sit awhile.”
I noticed that Daniel seemed to be feeling the heat more than I. His face was as red as the young man's in the rowboat and his wild black curls were plastered to his forehead under his boater. Of course, gentlemen are at a disadvantage on days like this, having to wear jackets whilst we women can keep cool in muslins. But he was a born New Yorker. I'd have thought he grew up used to this heat. I, on the other hand, had come from the wild west coast of Ireland, where a couple of sunny days in a row counted as a heat wave, and we had the chilly Atlantic at our feet whenever we needed to cool off.
Daniel took out his handkerchief and mopped at his brow. “That's better,” he said. “I swear, every summer is hotter than the last. It's those new skyscrapers. They block the cooling breezes from the East River and the Hudson.”
“It's certainly hot enough.” I fanned myself with the penny fan I had bought from a street vendor last week. It was a pretty little thing from China, made of paper and decorated with a picture of a pagoda and wild mountain scenery. “Here, you look as if you could use this more than me.” I turned and fanned Daniel too. He grabbed at my wrist, laughing. “Stop it. You'll be offering me your smelling salts next.”
“I've never carried smelling salts in my life and never intend to,” I said. “Fainting is for ninnies.”
“That's what I like about you, Molly Murphy—” For a long minute Daniel gazed at me in a way that turned my insides to water, his fingers still firmly around my wrist— “Your spirit. That and your trim little waist, of course, and those big green eyes and that adorable little nose.” He touched it playfully. Then the smile faded but the look of longing remained. “Oh, Molly. I just wish …” He let the rest of the sentence hang in the humid air, making me wonder what exactly he was wishing. He was young and healthy, with great career prospects—and a future that should have included a wife too. But I wasn't going to press him on this one. Who knew how men's minds worked? He could be waiting for a pay raise or saving enough to buy a house before he popped the question—if he did indeed intend to pop it. For once in my life I kept silent.
“I'm pretty content myself,” I said gaily. “I have a fine big room of my own and a handsome fellow who comes to call from time to time, and I'm living in a big city, just like I always dreamed I would.”
Daniel let his gaze fall and he sat there for a moment silent, his eyes focused on his hands in his lap.
“There's no rush for anything, Daniel,” I said. “If I could just find a way to keep myself a respectable job where I wasn't abused or overworked …”
“Did I not mention the companion's position?”
I patted his hand. “Daniel—can you see me as a companion to an old lady? Companions are pathetic, downtrodden creatures who cringe when spoken to and spend their days holding knitting wool and combing cats. I tried my hand at being a servant, remember. I wasn't born to be humble. And you know yourself that I can never learn when to hold my tongue.”
“But a companion is not a servant, Molly. You'd be expected to read to Miss Van Woekem and take her for strolls around the park—that kind of thing. What could be easier?”
“She'd be crotchety and finickety. Old spinsters always are. I'd lose my patience with her and that would be that.” I gave a gay little laugh, but still Daniel didn't smile.
“Molly, I'm sure I don't need to remind you that you do need to find some kind of job soon. I know the alderman gave you a small gift by way of apology for what happened at his house—”
“It was a bribe, Daniel, as you very well know.”
“But it won't last forever,” Daniel went on, ignoring my statement. It was funny the way the New York policemen seemed to become suddenly deaf at the mention of the word‘bribe.’ “And you do have rent to pay, even though it's a modest amount.”
“The O'Hallarans are being very kind,” I agreed. “I'm sure they could rent out their attic for much more if they chose to.” It was Daniel himself who had found me the pleasant top-floor flat owned by at fellow policeman. “And don't forget Seamus shares the rent, and pays for most of the food, too.”
“I should think so, considering that you cook it and look after his children for him.”
“I'm glad to do it,” I said. “They're no trouble, and how would he manage without me, poor man, with his wife back home in Ireland just waiting to die?”
I had brought Seamus's young son and daughter to New York at their mother's request when she found that she had consumption and wasn't allowed to travel. And in case you think I'm some kind of saint, let me assure you that the arrangement suited my own purposes very well.