“If we’re in the way, we could leave sooner,” Pandora suggested. “I could furnish the bedrooms first, and we’ll live without downstairs furniture.”
“It’s not that. We love having you here.” Adele shook her head. “I just thought that you and Harley might want more space.” She looked at Pandora meaningfully. “Now that your family is growing.”
“What did you say?” Pandora gasped.
“I should have waited until you told me,” Adele apologized. Her green eyes were bright with anticipation. “Dr. Bancroft’s office called while you were out. I knew right away. Wives only go to Dr. Bancroft for one reason.”
Pandora spread her hands in her lap.
“I just came from there. I didn’t want to tell Harley until I was certain.”
“Don’t worry about Harley. All husbands are shocked the first time. Harley loves children; he’ll be thrilled.” Adele clapped her hands. “I’ll hold a baby shower next month. It will be a wonderful way to furnish the nursery.”
“Isn’t it too early? I’m hardly three months along.”
“The pregnancy will fly by. I have to go.” Adele stood up and hugged Pandora. “Wait until I tell Milton; he’ll be so excited.”
Pandora went upstairs to the bedroom. She sat on a chair in the small sitting area next to the fireplace. She could see her reflection in the oval mirror on the dressing table.
A wave of nausea overcame her; she told herself it was morning sickness. But she was almost three months along, and she hadn’t experienced it before. It was something else; it was guilt about what she’d done and fear of being found out. What if Harley remembered more about the night in Lake George than she thought?
For a moment, she wondered if the marriage had been a mistake. She loved Harley, but that almost made things harder. She couldn’t help being jealous of any attention he paid to another man. No matter what a wonderful time they had on the weekends, after seeing a play and talking about it over hot chocolates or at the end of a Sunday spent playing croquet with Adele and Milton, she still wondered if some handsome young man was waiting for Harley in New York.
And it wasn’t fair that Archie didn’t know about the baby. Archie loved children. But he had his own life. If she told him the truth, she might ruin whatever happiness Archie had found with his work or with Lucy. Adele was over the moon about the baby; Milton and Harley would be too. She couldn’t ruin their lives with such a scandal when the Enrights had been so accepting of Pandora.
Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror. She had never felt so stricken by her actions.
Harley would be home soon, but she wasn’t ready to talk to him. She’d go to Riverview to see her father. She couldn’t tell him anything, but just being with him in the cottage might make her feel better.
When she arrived at Riverview, Willie wasn’t home. She was about to leave when Archie’s car pulled into the driveway. The windshield was covered in dirt, and a suitcase was wedged into the jump seat.
“Pandora, this is a surprise.” He jumped out.
He wore a sweater vest, navy shorts, and leather driving gloves. He had a boater hat perched on his head.
“I came to see my father; I was just leaving.”
“Don’t go yet,” Archie urged. “I’ve just returned from Maine. Come inside and have a glass of lemonade.”
Pandora followed Archie into the kitchen. He poured two glasses of lemonade and handed her one.
“I thought you and Lucy were still at Sonogee,” Pandora said, sitting at the kitchen table.
“We came home a few days early.” Archie sat opposite her. “I have an announcement.”
“An announcement?” Pandora repeated.
Archie took a long sip of lemonade. He set his glass on the table.
“Lucy and I are engaged.”
Pandora glanced at Archie in surprise.
“Engaged! I thought you weren’t going to propose until New Year’s Eve.”
Archie nodded. “I wasn’t. But Lucy spent the whole time talking about how many wedding invitations she’d received this summer and how many times she’d been asked to be a bridesmaid.” He rested his elbows on the table. “One night, Louise Vanderbilt pulled me aside and gave me the engagement ring that had belonged to her mother. A five-carat pink diamond. I couldn’t refuse it; what was I to do?” He shrugged his shoulders. “I was going to propose eventually; it was better to get it over with.”
Archie looked so unhappy; Pandora’s heart went out to him.
“Do you love her?” Pandora inquired.
Archie gave a thin smile.
“You know how I feel about Lucy.” He picked up his glass. “At least she wants a long engagement. The wedding will be at Biltmore in North Carolina a year from now, at Christmas. The Vanderbilts are going to build a chapel for the ceremony.” He sipped the lemonade. “I’m going to live in London until the wedding. My father owns property there, and Frederick Vanderbilt has business interests he wants me to manage.”
“What about the fellowship at Oxford?”
“I already turned it down,” he replied. He tried to smile. “At least I’ll be able to visit the Bodleian Library at Oxford. Lucy and Louise will spend a few months in London, picking out her trousseau.”
Pandora couldn’t imagine not seeing Archie lounging around Riverview in his tennis whites. A new wave of nausea swept over her. Archie was engaged to be married. She couldn’t tell him about the baby even if she wanted to. Archie would never break his engagement, and Pandora wasn’t free. She loved Harley and was going to stay married to him.
He glanced at her curiously.
“I’ve been rambling on about me. Are you feeling all right, you look a bit green.”
“It must be the heat,” Pandora said offhandedly.
“I’ve hardly seen you and Harley all summer. How is he?”
Pandora arranged her features carefully. She looked up and met Archie’s eyes.
“He’s very happy. Marriage is even better than we imagined.”
Pandora drove back to Blythdale and climbed the stairs to their bedroom. She was suddenly very tired and wanted to lie down. She was about to open a book when Virginia appeared in the doorway. Her bob was covered by a large hat, and she wore a floral dress and short white socks.
“I didn’t know you were coming up this weekend,” Pandora exclaimed.
“I decided spur of the moment.” Virginia flopped on the bed beside her. “I have so much to tell you. I’m starting my own publishing house.”
“You’re what?”
Virginia’s salons were very successful. So many people came she now held them biweekly, and still guests spilled into the hallway. Poets and authors clamored to read their work, and the salon was written up in the Messenger, Harlem’s most popular literary magazine.
Wolfgang had moved back to New York, and together, he and Virginia scoured the city for new writers. Last month, Dorothy West read from her short story “The Typewriter.” Dorothy was only twenty, but the story won first place in a national writing contest.
Virginia handed a slim volume to Pandora. “This book gave me the idea.”