The Family Way (Molly Murphy, #12)

“You’re not wrong,” he said. “We’ve all been working like crazy men, but I decided to back off for a while.”


“Is it still the anarchists that you’re working on?” I asked.

He gave me a warning frown as his mother came out of the kitchen and rushed to embrace him. “My poor boy,” she exclaimed. “Look at you. Worn to a frazzle. They are overworking you again. You’ll be for an early grave if you don’t quit.”

“Thanks, Mother. Nice to see you,” Daniel said, with a grin to me.

She slipped her arm through his. “I’ve sherry waiting for you in the parlor and then no doubt you can smell the chicken roasting in the oven for lunch. Your wife went into Tarrytown specially to get it from that good butcher.”

“Lovely. Thank you,” he said and allowed himself to be led through to the parlor, seated in the best armchair, and handed a glass of sherry. I sat opposite him.

“I’ll leave you two then,” Mrs. Sullivan said. “I have to get back to the kitchen to supervise Martha.”

“Nonsense, Mother. Martha is quite capable of cooking a chicken by herself,” Daniel said. “She’s been doing it since I was a boy without spoiling it once. Now sit and have a sherry with us. You can tell me all the local gossip.”

Mrs. Sullivan sat reluctantly and poured herself a sherry. Then she launched into a description of the jam making, the tea party at Letitia Blackstone’s, and the trip to Irvington.

“Your wife went to visit an acquaintance while we were there,” she said. “A Mrs. Mainwaring. Is she a friend of yours too?”

Daniel looked across at me and frowned. “Mainwaring. I’ve heard the name, but I can’t place it. How do you know her, Molly?”

Ah. Now I was in a spot. “She was part of Sid and Gus’s Vassar circle,” I said, with the sure conviction that Daniel stayed well clear of them.

“Oh, another Vassar girl. Is she another of those awful suffragists?”

“Surely, Molly doesn’t mix with those dreadful women?” Mrs. Sullivan turned to glare at me.

“What’s so awful about wanting the right to vote?” I demanded. “How can it be right that half the country has no say in how we are governed?”

“But women have no experience outside the home,” Mrs. Sullivan said. “They are not equipped to make decisions of a political nature. It’s up to their husbands to guide them in such matters. I know I always trusted the opinion of Daniel’s father and would never have dreamed of crossing him.”

I saw Daniel give me a warning look.

“Times are changing,” I said. “Women are starting to work outside the home and they’ll want their say.”

“Let’s hope it’s not in my lifetime,” she said.

“So was this Mrs. Mainwaring another suffragist?” Daniel asked. “Was that why you visited her, to attend one of their meetings?”

“Not at all. It was simply a courtesy call, since I was in the area,” I said. “And as it turned out, I did not find her particularly pleasant or welcoming.”

“I pointed out to Molly that it was not wise to stop by unexpectedly in this heat when people do not look or feel their best,” Mrs. Sullivan said.

“And you were right,” I said, lowering my head in a demure fashion that made Daniel smile.

“Mainwaring,” he said again. “In Irvington? It’s beginning to ring a bell now. I believe he was at Princeton with Freddie Parsons. I think I met him at Freddie’s place a couple of times. Good-looking chap. Thought a lot of himself and his family connections, I seem to remember.”

“Which reminds me,” Mrs. Sullivan said. “We heard that Arabella Norton is now married and living in Philadelphia. They say she’s made a very good match indeed.”

“I’m glad for her,” Daniel said shortly.

I was glad when Bridie appeared to announce that the meal was served and we were able to leave the uncomfortable conversation. The chicken was delicious, the beans from the garden were perfect, and the meal was rounded off with a peach cobbler and coffee. Afterward Mrs. Sullivan suggested that I go to lie down.

“I’m not at all tired,” I said, “and I want to make the most of Daniel being here. I hardly ever get time to talk to him at home, so this is a treat.”

“We’ll take a little walk, shall we?” Daniel took my hand.

“I want to come too.” Bridie jumped down from her chair to join us. Mrs. Sullivan grabbed her arm to hold her back. “Let them be alone for a while, child,” she said. “Your turn will come later. Besides, I need help with clearing the table.”

Bridie gave a mournful look after us.

“Don’t let her go out without a parasol,” Mrs. Sullivan called after us. “She’ll get sunstroke.”

Daniel grinned as he handed me the parasol. An amused look passed between us as I took it and opened it. “I never thought I’d see the day when you went out with a parasol,” he muttered as we walked out onto the porch and then down the steps to the garden. “It’s quite the transformation.”