My eyebrows darted up. “You sound as if this surprises you. Some people do like me, you know.”
He only laughed again. “Yes, yes, of course. Pardon me—I merely meant that although you have a vexing habit of never acting quite as I expect, I still enjoy my time with you. Perhaps that’s precisely why I like you... or perhaps it’s because you are the only person who knows of my situation. Either way, it makes your mother happy to have me around, and it makes my mother happy to see me showing such interest in a young lady—even one such as yourself.”
“Honestly, Mr. Wilcox, do you hear yourself? You insult me at every turn.”
He grinned and leaned toward me, setting his elbows on his knees. “Yes, and you’re a wonderful sport about it.”
I sighed dramatically. “Are we still going to the opera?”
“Of course. And these men will be joining us. The three extra tickets shan’t go to waste.”
“Oh.”
We descended into silence. This evening was turning out far different than I’d imagined. I couldn’t even dream of escape—not with those Pinkertons there.
I tried to concentrate on something else, to lose myself in the clack of the horses’ hooves, the rattle of the wheels, and—land sakes! Snoring!
I leaned forward and peered at Clarence in the darkness. The man had fallen asleep. I wilted back onto my seat, and the Pinkerton nearest me said, “I reckon he’s tired. Don’t wake him.”
Pshaw. I glared at the man and then turned my stare out the window. Why had Clarence even bothered to take me out if he intended to sleep the entire time? As intriguing as he might have been, a sleeping companion was utterly useless. I doubted our mothers would be particularly pleased to know he’d left me to make conversation with the Pinkertons.
A quarter of an hour passed, and we clattered to a stop on Arch Street. Clarence twitched to life and dragged himself from the carriage. He tugged me out with him, and I fought the urge to resist. As he spoke to Willis and the driver, I hugged my cloak tight and glanced around.
Families and couples in lavish evening attire traipsed all around the street. Women in pastel gowns shimmered under streetlamps, and their dragging skirts whispered like a symphony of moth wings. The men, all dressed in their long black coats and black top hats—identical copies of Clarence—guided their ladies to the granite steps and tall white columns before the Arch Street Theatre’s entrance.
Carriage after carriage rattled up and deposited the beautiful and the wealthy of Philadelphia. And, like me, they all examined everyone else. Yet, if they sought familiar faces or merely wished to critique their neighbors, I couldn’t say. Either way, I was suddenly very grateful for my new gown. For the first time since leaving girlhood and frocks behind, I felt I was a match for my society.
“Eleanor!” A girl’s voice shouted.
I twirled around to see Mercy nearby, her sister, Patience, still climbing down from a carriage. I waved.
Mercy daintily lifted her skirts to approach me, but then she paused. Her smile wavered and fell.
Fingers grasped my arm, and I flinched. But it was only Clarence. I gave him a tight grin—the Virtue Sisters would be delighted to know he was here!—and I glanced back to the street.
Patience had joined Mercy, and they glared at me. The hatred and envy was so thick, I staggered back.
Clarence steadied me. “Are you all right, Miss Fitt?”
“No—yes... yes. I’m fine. Let’s go in.” My voice broke over a lump in my throat.
Here I was unwillingly on the arm of Clarence Wilcox, but all the Virtue Sisters would see was Eleanor Fitt of the fallen Philadelphia Fitts on the arm of the most eligible bachelor in the city.
Maybe these people would talk with me and play croquet, but they still lived by the judgmental rules of class and wealth. And for a very brief moment, I wished I could go back in time to when Mercy had smiled.
But then I set my jaw and pulled back my shoulders. If their friendships were based on such meaningless things as name, then did I truly want them in my life?
Clarence and I reached the top of the steps. The grooved columns towered up beside us, and cheerful light poured from the open theater doors.
I peered back at the street. The Virtue Sisters were nowhere in sight, but my gaze hit on a small figure lounging against a gas streetlamp. My breath hitched. It was Jie! Jie!
What was she doing here? She nodded at me, and I nodded back. All my concerns over society vanished, for here was someone I knew I could call friend..