Aunt Quinlan answered for her stepdaughter. “Margaret is upset because Sophie is the only Catholic among us, and she thinks the Catholic Church won’t let the little girls stay if she leaves.”
“Margaret is upset,” Margaret said, “because it is unfair. We should never have allowed the girls to stay if we weren’t all prepared to stay with them. Just last week the Catholic Church took a baby away from a Protestant couple. It was in the paper, if you don’t believe me.”
“There’s more to that story,” Aunt Quinlan said. “The mother left a note with the boy asking that he be raised Catholic.”
“According to the nuns,” Margaret muttered.
“Are you suggesting that Sophie send Cap off to Switzerland alone?” Anna was careful not to inject anything dismissive in her tone, but Margaret was determined to be insulted.
“Cap is a grown man, able to fend for himself,” she said.
There was a small but fraught silence while Anna tried to reconcile what she was hearing with the Margaret she had always known. Not the most effective or consistent of mothers to her two boys but deeply devoted. Stubborn, yes. A martyr to social convention, but not willfully cruel. Anna looked closely at Aunt Quinlan’s stepdaughter and wondered if she was unwell.
“Mr. and Mrs. Lee are members of this household,” Aunt Quinlan was saying. “They are Catholic, and in case you’ve misremembered, they’ve taken the girls to church with them every Sunday.”
“Yes. And they are also—” Margaret lowered her voice and then was unable to go on.
“Colored,” Sophie finished for her.
“Well, yes,” Margaret said.
“And so am I.”
“But you’re different,” Margaret said, growing more flustered.
Aunt Quinlan closed her eyes for the span of three heartbeats. It was a rare thing to see her lose her temper, but Margaret had managed to bring her to that point.
“Margaret,” she said with misleading calm. “I believe you had a letter from your sons today.”
Margaret started. “I did. But—”
“I take it they’ve decided to stay in Europe for another year. You miss them very much, I understand. Maybe it’s time you joined them.”
The color drained from Margaret’s face. “But the girls—”
“You needn’t worry about the girls.”
“But—”
“I raised five daughters,” Aunt Quinlan said, more sharply. “And a granddaughter, and two nieces. I think I can be trusted with two more.” She turned to Sophie. “Have you and Cap decided on a date?”
Hesitantly Sophie said, “Cap has legal matters to settle first. We would hope to sail at the end of May, and marry that same morning. Cap’s uncle Conrad has offered to give me away.”
Conrad Belmont approved then, which was a relief. Some part of the family would be opposed and vocal, but the support of the eldest living Belmont would go a long way.
“Just a small ceremony,” Sophie said. “For my side, just family and Mary and Abraham Jacobi. If they will come.”
“Of course they will,” Anna said. “They have always been your champions.”
“Anna. For someone so relentlessly logical and clear-thinking you can be oblivious,” Margaret said, pushing back her chair to stand up. “It doesn’t matter if every physician in the city attends or if the president himself gives Sophie away, it is still the color of her skin that will be the sticking point.”
“For whom, exactly?” Aunt Quinlan asked, her voice very low and calm. “Who exactly are you worried about? Do you think you’ll be cut in public because a niece of mine has married a Belmont?”
Margaret did an admirable job of gathering her emotions and calming her voice. She folded her napkin and stood.
“My mother was born in this house. I was born here and so was my brother. The law may say that the house belongs to you as my father’s widow, but in your heart you know that it’s wrong to put me out because I insist on speaking truths you would rather ignore.”
“This is getting out of hand,” Anna said. “Margaret, this is your home if you’re away for a day or a year. No one is putting you out. No one is sending you away. Aunt Quinlan was making a suggestion. Badly timed—” She glanced at her aunt and frowned. “But nothing more than a suggestion for you to take or leave.”
Margaret’s throat worked, but she said nothing.
After a moment Aunt Quinlan said, “I spoke more sharply than I should have, Margaret. I apologize. You must decide what you want to do for yourself, but you can’t decide anything for Sophie. And as a family we will support her in her marriage and we will find a way to keep the girls with us without sacrificing Cap’s medical treatment.”
The silence drew out for a long moment, and then Margaret turned and left them.