Blair gave her a cat-that-swallowed-the-cream smile. “Crochet patterns,” she said. “We’ll have pages of crochet patterns full of numbers. We’ll put in a ‘to make the left sleeve’ now and then, but the entire thing will be in code, telling the miners what’s going on across the country with the unions.”
Nina closed her eyes and put her head back for a moment. “It is absolutely brilliant, Blair, and, more important, I think it’ll work. You’re at the clinic all the time, so I’ll go to the library and study this code and—.”
“I won’t be at the infirmary for a few days,” Blair said, unsmiling.
“But the last I heard, you had so many patients, they were waiting on the street.”
Blair looked away toward the river. “I did,” she said softly, then abruptly stood. “I could strangle your brother sometimes!” she said passionately. “I’m trying to teach him a lesson, but he may be too pigheaded to learn. He thinks he’s my father! He gives me presents—a women’s infirmary—he gives me orders, he supervises everything I do and, when I dare ask about him, he acts scandalized, as if I were a child asking her father how much money he earns. I know so little about Leander. He doesn’t share one single thing about himself with me, but I can’t even step out the door without his knowing about it. I don’t want another father, I’m perfectly content with the one I had. But how do I teach him I’m not a little girl?”
“I never made any progress,” Nina said. “It’s a wonder my father doesn’t still buy me dolls for my birthday. You said you were trying to teach Lee a lesson. How?”
“I, ah…” Blair looked away. “He keeps telling me he wants a lady, so I’ve been trying to be one.”
Nina thought for a moment. “You mean as in bubble baths and being helpless and crying over broken dishes?”
Blair turned back with a grin. “And spending too much and eating chocolates and having headaches at night.”
Nina began to laugh. “I warn you that it may take Lee ten years to realize he’s being taught a lesson. You ought to exaggerate what you do. Too bad you can’t fault at the sight of a hangnail.”
Blair sighed. “So far, except for the headache, he’s liked what I’ve done. He doesn’t mind if I just stay home all day and give directions to Mrs. Shainess.”
“But you’re going crazy, right?”
“Not anymore.” Blair smiled. “This afternoon, I’ll start working out a code for the unionist material. At least, that’ll give me something to do. If I continue staying home, my mother might start sending me baskets of berries to can.”
“I have a damson plum recipe that—.”
“Will make your mouth cry with joy,” Blair finished. “I’ve heard of it,” she said, as she put the saddle back on the horse. “I’m not yet reduced to collecting recipes, but if I look at another fabric swatch, I may actually faint. I’ll call you tomorrow and tell you how I’m doing on our crochet patterns. I’d like to get them done before we start on the rest of the magazine, and before we let anyone know of our plans. We’ll print them and show the others what we’re talking about. When do you have to return to Philadelphia?”
“Another ten days. It’s going to seem like an eternity before Alan finishes school.”
“I want you to meet my aunt and uncle in Pennsylvania. I’ll give you their address and write them about you. And I have a few friends there. You won’t be entirely alone.”
“Thank you. Maybe they’ll help make the time pass faster. Good luck with Lee,” she called, as Blair mounted and rode away.
Chapter 33
After four days of being the perfect lady, Blair didn’t know whether she was going to be able to stand the strain. Concerning herself with little more than the mundane duties of running a household was making her tired and cross. And the worst part of it was trying to teach a man a lesson when he didn’t even know he was in school. He’d had four days of seeing his wife as a semi-invalid, no sex, and all Blair had heard from him was a mumbled, “Guess the honeymoon’s over.”
During the day, she worked on the code until she was nearly blind, counting words and making notes and translating Nina’s pamphlet into a bizarre combination of words and numbers.
By the morning of the fifth day, she was sure that she couldn’t last much longer. She left the house with the intention of going shopping and purchasing something frivolous that she could show Lee but, instead, she ended up in Mr. Pendergast’s bookstore looking for anything she could find about medicine.
She wasn’t even aware of anyone near her until the man spoke.
“He’s to deliver the goods on Thursday night.”
Blair looked up to see the man Lee had called LeGault standing near her. She had to control a shudder that threatened to shake her. If the man were lying on a cot, bleeding, she wouldn’t mind touching him, but, alive and well, she couldn’t bear to stand even this close to him. With a slight, cool nod to him, she moved away.
She was looking over a copy of She by H. Rider Haggard when her head came up. What had he said to her?
She looked around the store until she saw him about to leave. “Sir,” she called, and was aware of the curious looks she received from the store owner and the two women customers in the back. “I found the book you said you were looking for.”
LeGault smiled at her. “Thank you so much,” he said loudly before moving toward her.
Blair knew that now she had to think as fast as she’d ever thought in her life. She didn’t want this man to know that she knew nothing about what he was referring to. And, at the same time, she wanted to find out all that she could.
“He’s to deliver them the same place as last time?” she asked.