Miss Winnie answered without missing a beat. “Probably not. Then again, Mrs. Frick and Mr. Frick have managed.”
Lillian hoped that Mr. Danforth and Miss Helen would do better than those two.
“Don’t let Mr. Frick and Mrs. Frick fool you, there’s still a spark between them, in spite of all the years.” Miss Winnie pointed to a pink magnolia blossom that lay at Mrs. Frick’s place setting. “Every morning, without fail, Mr. Frick selects a flower from the arrangement in the front hallway, then brings it down to the kitchen so they can deliver it up to Mrs. Frick with her breakfast.”
In spite of herself, Lillian was touched at the thought of Mr. Frick dawdling over a vase of flowers, searching for the exact right one. She could imagine Mr. Danforth doing something similar. But still, would they really work as a couple? “Mr. Danforth is not wealthy, you know.” Lillian hoped she came across as concerned, not as a gossip.
“They know all about that. There’s nothing to be hidden from New York high society. I don’t think they care. Miss Helen’s over thirty, after all.”
“Then why bother? She’s rather set in her ways.”
“Mr. Frick insists. I suppose he’s feeling his age lately. He wants to be sure she’s taken care of.” Miss Winnie paused and studied Lillian. “Why all the questions? Do you think they’re a bad match?”
If she wasn’t careful, she’d sabotage all of her hard work. She needed this marriage to happen, there was no question about that, and as Miss Winnie implied, Miss Helen and Mr. Danforth were as good a pair as any.
Now that she was embedded with the Frick family, it was easy for Lillian to forget how vulnerable she was out there in the world. She must keep in mind what was at stake: a web of scandal and possibly jail, or an escape far away with Mr. Frick’s betrothal bonus. “I’m more than happy for her.” Lillian finished her coffee and rose. “Like you said, they’ll get used to each other and figure it out. Eventually.”
* * *
Later, in Miss Helen’s sitting room, Lillian was finishing up the day’s love note from Miss Helen to Mr. Danforth when Mr. Frick entered the room.
“Is my daughter here?”
She knew better than to divulge that Miss Helen was working in the basement that morning. “She went out for an errand, I believe. Can I help you?” As she spoke, she slid the note closer to her body, but doing so only attracted Mr. Frick’s attention.
“What are you writing there?” he asked, stepping forward and looking over her shoulder. Up close, he smelled of peppermint and a woody aftershave. He let out a sharp exhale of breath and maneuvered around the desk, lowering his massive frame into the wooden chair across from her. She hoped it would hold his bulk. “You’re writing a love letter from my daughter, aren’t you?”
How to explain? “Miss Helen has directed me to do so.”
“Even better, I bet it was your idea in the first place.” He pointed his finger at her. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
Today appeared to be the day she was going to upset both elder Fricks in the span of a few hours. So be it. “As her secretary, I’m hired to put her thoughts onto the page.”
“Her thoughts? Or yours?”
She waited him out without answering.
“Oh, I don’t mind,” he said with a wave of his hand. “That’s what our agreement was about, after all. I rather like your initiative. You remind me of myself, we both know how to pull strings, to get others to do our bidding. You’re a chameleon, which is what I was when I started out, working as a desk clerk, pleasing whoever was in charge, but making sure that I pleased his boss even more. I like the fact that neither of us is afraid to take a creative approach in carving out a path to success.”
One of the richest men in America had just admired Lillian’s skills, had said they were alike, and a small smile escaped her lips at the thought. Yet she didn’t want to be too much like Mr. Frick. She heartily disapproved of the way he pitted his family members against each other. Besides, her reasoning for manipulating Miss Helen and Mr. Danforth was driven by her dire circumstances, while Mr. Frick’s was more malicious, more darkly gleeful.
“Do you like living here, Miss Lilly?” he asked.
The change of subject was a relief. “I certainly do. To be able to view a Gainsborough portrait or an ethereal Hoppner day after day is one of the most heavenly experiences of my life.”
“I do like being surrounded by beautiful women.” His smile grew even wider. “Even if some of them are only two-dimensional.”