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The Magnolia Palace(49)

Author:Fiona Davis

“My mother died in February of the flu,” Lillian volunteered. “She was getting better, I thought, and then she declined so rapidly.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. So you understand.”

She nodded.

“In any event, I assure you I am planning on updating the decor, as soon as I have time. I don’t plan on living in an homage to the last century forever.”

“One can’t rush mourning.”

He studied her in the dim light. “You’re very wise. How long have you been Miss Helen’s secretary?”

“It’s a month today.”

“You did a bang-up job organizing last night’s festivities.”

“Thank you. Really, Miss Helen is the one in charge, I simply carry out her instructions.”

“She seems to enjoy her hounds greatly.”

His face remained neutral. She couldn’t tell if he was making fun of Miss Helen or not. His actual response to the invitation hadn’t been forthcoming, not yet, and this might be Lillian’s only opportunity to convince Mr. Danforth to accept it, especially if the conversation last night hadn’t been quite as successful as Miss Helen believed. “She does love her dogs. But she’s also well traveled, well versed in the arts. Miss Helen has a more forceful personality than other society ladies, but I find it refreshing. Did you know she went to France during the war?”

“Miss Helen?”

“Yes. She volunteered with the Red Cross, and was practically on the front lines with the soldiers.” Lillian couldn’t believe she had to be the one supplying this vital information. Miss Helen should have brought it up herself; it would have been easy enough to do.

“Well, that makes me admire her even more. What a terrible time, for all of us.”

“I do believe that you and Miss Helen might find you have a great deal in common, if you give her a chance. Will you give her a chance?”

“You’re quite a fierce advocate of your mistress.”

A thousand dollars bought quite a deal of advocacy. Probably better not to share that tidbit with him. “Will you come?”

He studied Lillian for a moment before heading to the writing desk near the front window. “I shall. I’ll compose a note for you to take back to her now. If you like, I can have some coffee sent up while you wait.”

“That would be most kind.”

She watched him as he took a pen out of a drawer along with a page of stationery paper. He was quite handsome, in a boyish way, but his movements were tentative, reminding her of the way he’d entered the Frick house, the uncertainty of his gait. It was as if he were trying to maintain control of himself, to become neither too excited nor too sad, fighting for a middle ground that didn’t upset the equilibrium of the moment.

She sipped the coffee the butler brought and studied the room more closely, noticing that the wallpaper curled down from the crown molding in sections, and the rugs were quite worn. Miss Helen’s fortune would certainly help matters, if the household’s disarray was an indication of the state of his finances. The grandfather clock chimed eleven, yet Mr. Danforth had only scribbled a few words, and was now staring out the window, lost in some other place or time.

“Mr. Danforth.” When she spoke, he jumped as if she’d broken the silence with a loud cry.

“Yes, sorry?”

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I really should be heading back.”

“Right.” He ran a hand through his hair. “May I admit something?”

“Of course.”

“Miss Helen’s letter was quite charming. I feel my response will be rather dull in comparison.” He stared down at the note. “What do you think I ought to say? I want to convey my interest, but not appear unseemly.”

Lillian rose and stood behind him, looking down at the note. All that was written on it was Miss Helen’s name and the date. Did she have to do everything? For goodness’ sake, she was a Cyrano de Bergerac squared, writing love letters to herself. “I’d be happy to help.”

She rattled off a couple of sweet sentences, followed by a request that he use the occasion to meet Fudgie the hound. “That should do it.”

He signed it and sealed it in an envelope, his relief palpable. “That’s that, then. Are you walking back or taking a car?”

“It’s a lovely day, I was planning on walking.”

“Do you mind if I join you part of the way? I have a luncheon at the Plaza, which is on your way. I’d be happy to escort you.”

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