In a Gilded Cage (Molly Murphy, #8)

“That’s right. With me it’s either feast or famine.”


I took off my apron and went for my coat and hat. Soon we were off on a merry jaunt. We spent a delightful day at the museum. I hoped that Daniel would finally put in an appearance that evening. After all, it was Saturday night. Everybody should have a Saturday night free now and then. But the evening wore on and there was no sign of him. I was feeling thoroughly annoyed until suddenly it hit me: Daniel couldn’t actually be enjoying these long hours and no days off. He was only doing what he was required to do, and since he had been in disgrace so recently, he was probably working twice as hard as anyone else. Of course then I felt wretched. Only thinking of myself, as usual. A sudden brilliant idea struck me. I had bought some calves’ liver in the hope that Daniel would come to supper one evening. It would go bad if I didn’t use it soon. Why shouldn’t I go to his place and cook him a nice meal so that he’d find it waiting for him when he returned at whatever ungodly hour.

I put the liver, together with some onions, potatoes, and cabbage, into my basket and traveled northward on the El to Twenty-third Street. Daniel’s landlady opened the door cautiously in response to my knock. Chelsea was a fairly safe neighborhood by New York standards, but it was well after dark and she had a family to protect. Her face lit up when she saw me. “Why, it’s Miss Murphy. I was asking Captain Sullivan about you only the other day. He said you were doing well and he wished he had time to see you more often.”

“I’ve been feeling the same way, Mrs. O’Shea. Captain Sullivan has been working far too hard, so I thought I’d surprise him with a nice meal.”

“Well, I think that’s a lovely idea,” she said. “Up you go, then. You know the way.”

“I don’t have a key,” I reminded her. “Could you let me in?”

“The spare key’s here on the hook, same as always,” she said. “Help yourself, my dear. If you ask me, it’s time Captain Sullivan had a nice young wife to look after him. Running himself ragged, he is.”

“We’ll have to see about that.” I smiled, then climbed the two flights to Daniel’s top-floor apartment. I let myself in and stood in the doorway, savoring the familiar smell of pipe tobacco and polished wood. The living room was meticulously neat, with a dark oak table, a leather armchair by the fire, and shelves of books. Clearly a man’s abode. I wondered for a moment whether I had done the right thing and whether Daniel would appreciate my entering his place uninvited and alone. Then I decided that if I was to be his wife someday, he’d have to get used to it.

I took off my coat, unpacked my supplies, and got to work. I put the potatoes and cabbage on to boil and was in the middle of frying the onions when a grotesque shadow loomed over me. I let out a scream at the same time as a voice blurted out, “What the devil?”

I turned to see a bleary-eyed Daniel standing behind me in his nightshirt.

“I came over to make you dinner,” I said shakily. My heart was thumping. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You certainly did that,” he agreed. “I was up most of last night. I crept into bed in the middle of the afternoon and awoke to the smell of frying onions. I thought I was still dreaming until I heard a noise in my kitchen. You nearly scared the living daylights out of me!”

“That makes two of us.” I gave an uneasy laugh. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“Don’t be. Whatever it is smells delicious. I haven’t had a proper meal in days.”

“It’s liver. I thought you needed building up,” I said.

“Liver and onions. That’s a treat. I’ll have to see if I’ve a bottle of wine that might go with it.”

“But Daniel, first you should probably at least put on your dressing gown,” I suggested.

He looked down at himself, with his bare legs and feet, and had to laugh. “Lord, I must look a sight.”

“Very fetching,” I said. “I had no idea you had such nice ankles, Captain Sullivan.”

“You know very well what my ankles look like, so don’t play the prim miss with me,” he chuckled. “I shall return momentarily.”

He disappeared into his bedroom while I finished cooking the meal. The next time he appeared he was in his thick woolen robe and slippers and his hair was wetted and neatly combed. And we women think that we are the vain sex!

I laid the table while Daniel poured red wine into two goblets. “Here’s to us,” he said, raising his glass in a toast. We clinked glasses. His eyes held mine in a way that was unnerving.

“Don’t let my good food get cold,” I said. He tucked in as if he had been starving.

“Oh, this is so good,” he managed to mumble once. When the plate was clean he put down his knife and fork with a satisfied sigh. “That was so good of you, Molly. I can’t tell you how much I appreciated it.”