The Family Way (Molly Murphy, #12)

She nodded. “I was exactly the same when my man was with the police. I expect you’ve gathered by now that it’s no fun being a policeman’s wife. If his father had had his way, Daniel would have gone into the law and then into politics instead of following his footsteps into the police force. Of course there is still time to pursue a political career.”


“Daniel loves his job,” I said. “I think he even enjoys the danger and the long hours.”

“Maybe he’ll change his mind when he has a family and wants to spend more time with them,” she said. “Ah, that’s right, Bridie. Put the tray down on that table and see if you can pour very carefully without spilling. Good girl.” She turned to me. “She’s turning into a grand little helper. She’ll make some man a fine wife someday.”

Bridie came to perch on the arm of my chair, waiting impatiently to show me the room she had prepared for me. At last she was allowed to lead me upstairs. The windows were open and the sweet scent of roses and newly mown grass wafted in. Doves were cooing on the rooftop. There were flowers on my bedside table and clean white linens on the bed. It all looked very inviting and I reminded myself that I could have been enjoying it all summer, but for my own stubbornness.

Mrs. Sullivan refused to let me do a thing. She set up a wicker chaise for me under the oak tree and instructed me to put my feet up. “You can’t be too careful at this stage,” she said. “I’ve some fine white knitting yarn if you’ve a mind to start on a little jacket.”

I lounged in the shade, sipping iced tea and nibbling on plums from a tree in the orchard. This is the life of Riley, I thought. The contentment lasted all of an hour before my thoughts turned to Liam and Daniel and what was happening in the city. I fetched my note paper and wrote to Sid and Gus, asking them to let me know the moment they had any news, then to Daniel, emphasizing the warm welcome his mother had given me. Then I made a valiant attempt at starting the little jacket before, I’m ashamed to say, I nodded off to sleep in the shade.

I was glad I had that afternoon nap as my sleep was disturbed that night. My windows were open and I was jarred awake by unfamiliar nightly noises—the hoot of an owl, the bark of a fox. When I did fall asleep it was to troubled dreams and someone holding up a hideous and malformed infant to me. “That’s not my baby!” I screamed and awoke sweating. Maybe it was a good thing that I had removed myself from the tensions of the city. Soon I’d learn to slow myself to the calm rhythm of the countryside … at least I hoped I would.

When I awoke the next morning I was full of energy and wanting to be doing something. I went for an early morning walk, read the paper, tried to help clear away breakfast but was told to go and sit down.

“I’m not used to being idle,” I said.

“You have to learn to do what’s best for the baby,” Mrs. Sullivan said. “When it arrives you’ll think back wistfully to the time when you had a minute to rest. Make the most of it.”

She did allow me to deadhead the geraniums, but refused any more strenuous gardening. “If you feel up to it,” she said, “we’ve been invited to tea with my neighbors, the Blackstones. Letitia Blackstone was a famous society beauty in her youth.”

I was all set to say I was too tired. I tended to agree with Sid and Gus that society gossip was very tiresome, especially when one didn’t know any of the people who were being talked about and when one’s mother-in-law was likely to drop hints about the sort of girls Daniel might have married.

“We needn’t stay long and they are anxious to meet you,” she added. “You’ll probably find that some of the ladies attending came to your wedding.”

After that I had to agree. I could see she really wanted to go. She looked pleased. “They are very well connected and could be useful to Daniel someday.”

We were driven in the pony and trap by Jonah. The Blackstones’ house was much grander than Mrs. Sullivan’s—a proper mansion with a portico, terraced gardens, and a small ornamental lake. My mother-in-law mentioned at least a dozen times what a good match Letitia had made and how happy her parents had been for her.

Tea had been set up in the shade of trees beside this lake and there were several other ladies present, mostly of Mrs. Sullivan’s generation. I was made a great fuss over when I arrived.

“To think that Daniel is going to be a father at last,” Mrs. Blackstone said as she escorted me to my chair. “And you despaired that he’d never marry, Mary.”

“Whatever happened to that other girl—the Nortons’ daughter, wasn’t it?” an older woman asked from her deck chair.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Arabella Norton had been Daniel’s intended when I first met him.

“I gather she’s married—into a Philadelphia Mainline family, so in fact a better match than…” the speaker broke off and cleared her throat in embarrassment.

“And is your family from this area, my dear?” another of the women asked me, rapidly changing the subject.