Which was the last thing she wanted. She could have groaned. “Mr. Bates, would you mind . . . ? I mean . . .” She frowned her helpless frown again.
“I’ll do whatever you wish, Miss Miles,” he said, and she was sure he would at least try.
She rewarded him with a smile of her own. “I’d like to go in alone, if you don’t mind. No, wait. Hear me out. You see, it’s very . . . embarrassing to admit one has been in jail, even for the best of causes.”
“Which is why I’m happy to do it for you,” he argued.
“No, please. If there’s any hope at all, a young woman alone is much more likely to win their pity than her overbearing escort.”
“Overbearing?” He seemed genuinely offended.
“As I’m sure you would become on my behalf if you felt I wasn’t receiving the right treatment.”
He couldn’t argue with that, and he didn’t try, but she didn’t like the way he was looking at her now, as if he’d seen something disturbing. What had she done to earn that look? She really needed to be more than careful with him.
Finally, he said, “So you want to go into the hotel alone to request your luggage, is that what you’re telling me?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind too terribly much. And rest assured, if I have any trouble at all, I’ll summon you immediately.”
He considered this for a long moment before he said, “All right, but don’t let them fob you off.”
“Oh, I won’t,” she lied, and rewarded him with another smile.
She left him waiting with the cab and walked into the quiet elegance of the hotel lobby. This place was tiny compared to the Willard, and no political hacks sat in the lobby waiting for someone important to walk by. Instead, a few well-dressed gentlemen read newspapers in the comfortable chairs, and bellmen moved soundlessly over the carpeted floors, carrying things here and there.
She walked up to the desk, in case Bates was watching her, and asked the clerk for the time. Then she mentioned she was meeting some other ladies and went over to an empty chair and sat down. A lone female wouldn’t sit long in a hotel lobby, but Elizabeth needed a moment to think. She could lie to Gideon and tell him her things had been stolen, but then he’d insist on seeing the manager and making a fuss. She thought of several other versions of the same lie, but they all ended with no luggage and Bates making a fuss. She could always tell him the truth, of course, that she was a grifter on the run who had never stayed at this hotel at all, but that didn’t seem like a very good idea, either. The only other alternative was for her to find a back door, sneak out and disappear. She had money in her purse and more in her corset. She could go to the station and take a train for New York. She’d be safe from Thornton and she wouldn’t have to lie to Gideon. It was the only sensible thing to do, after all. That’s what the Old Man would say, she was sure.
So why was she still sitting here?
Because she could imagine how frantic Gideon Bates would be and how upset Mrs. Bates would be and how devastated Anna would be if she just disappeared. How they would have the hotel searched and summon the authorities. And how very, very frightened they would be for her. She tried to tell herself they were nothing to her, so what did she care? They’d forget all about her in a week.
Except that wasn’t true. They would never forget her, just as she would never forget them.
Which was why she was still sitting there when the elevator opened and a heavily laden luggage cart rolled out. One of the Negro bellmen was taking great care that the enormous stack of matched luggage on it didn’t tip.
A young woman and an older man came out behind him. “Be careful with that,” she snapped at the bellman. “Do you have any idea how expensive those cases are?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the bellman murmured.
“Honestly, where do they find these creatures?” she asked her companion. “He’s so stupid and clumsy. An ape could do this job better.”
“It’s all right, my dear,” the man soothed.
She heaved a dramatic sigh and sashayed around the luggage cart, stepping right in front of it so the bellman had to jerk it back to avoid running her over. The sudden stop upset the delicate balance of the luggage, and the smaller cases on top of the pile crashed to the floor before he could catch them. He only just managed to keep the entire load from falling over.
“You stupid idiot!” she screamed. “What’s the matter with you? I should have your job for that.”
“Now, darling, there’s no harm done,” the older man said.
“No harm?” she screeched. “Those cases are ruined. I want them replaced!”
The man continued to soothe her while she continued to heap abuse on the poor bellman, although Elizabeth had stopped listening. She watched them closely as the bellman picked up the cases and reloaded the cart. The woman was about her size. And the bellman—who was at least thirty—was moving the way someone moves when they’re furious but don’t dare let anyone know. And he wouldn’t dare, either, not if he wanted to keep his job. A man like that, a colored man serving rich white people, had silently taken a lifetime of abuse with no hope of any retribution. This time the white woman had caused the accident herself and berated him in front of everyone in the lobby. She might well try to get him fired, too, and after all that, the man probably wouldn’t even give him a tip.
But Elizabeth would.
She waited until the couple went to the front desk. They were still arguing, and it would take a few minutes for them to check out. More than a few, because the woman was making a complaint. The bellman had finished reloading the luggage, so Elizabeth strolled over to him. She slipped a five-dollar bill into his hand, which was probably more than he made in a week, and said, “These are my things. My cab is right outside.”
His eyes widened, and he glanced over to where the couple was still arguing at the desk. She saw him silently weighing his options. Anger flared in his eyes, and then he smiled grimly. “Yes, ma’am.” He pushed the cart a little faster.
Elizabeth followed, giving no indication she was with him. Outside, she saw Gideon pacing beside the cab, which had pulled down to the far end of the driveway. “Here we are,” she called and strolled down to where he waited. The bellman followed with the cart.
Gideon’s expression was priceless. “Is that all yours?”
Elizabeth had no idea. She turned to the bellman, who grinned. “Oh no, sir. Only the green cases is the lady’s.” The rest, Elizabeth supposed, belonged to the man who was with her.
The cab driver opened his trunk, and they managed to get most of the green cases into it. The rest went into the front seat.
“Will you get into trouble?” she asked the bellman when the driver and Gideon were busy trying to squeeze the last of the cases into the cab.
“Oh no, ma’am. They won’t remember which one of us took their luggage. We all look alike to folks like them. When my boss gets around to asking me, I’ll say the cart was just sitting in the lobby and a young lady told me it was hers and would I take it out for her.”