“Not much. Only what Sylvia told me. She said almost all of Papa’s money and belongings had to be turned over to the bank due to deficits created by his assistant.”
He tucked a silky strand of hair behind her ear. “Did Sylvia tell you how much money the solicitors gave her?”
“No, not the exact amount, but I got the impression it wasn’t very much.” Angel yawned again.
“All right, darlin’, go to sleep. We’ll talk more about it in the morning.”
“Just tell me if Sylvia is all right.” She mumbled as her eyes drifted closed.
“She’s fine. The whole thing is being taken care of.”
“Good.” The last word barely a whisper, as she snuggled closer and dropped off to sleep.
Once again, Lucy climbed the worn stairs of the old building, and walked the ha
llway to Moses McNeil’s office. The unchanged sight of the corpulent man in the same suit, with another cigar smoldering in the ashtray, and the same messy desk, greeted her. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.
“Mr. McNeil, what additional information do you have for me?” She pointedly ignored the chair he indicated.
“It seems that our checking into Mrs. Hale’s background caused the New York City Police department to locate Mrs. Hale’s stepmother, Mrs. Hardwick. I understand she’ll be arrested for grand larceny.”
Lucy sighed at the man’s uselessness. “You’re a little behind the times, Mr. McNeil. The arrest of Mrs. Hardwick is old news. In fact, she’s already been arrested and released. My papa took care of it. I do hope that is not the only information you brought me here for.”
“Hold on, little lady. It seems theft runs in the family.” He waded through the numerous papers on his desk. He finally pulled one out, and after dusting off the cigar ashes, handed it to her.
Lucy took it with two fingers, holding it from her body. She skimmed the paper rapidly, and her lips broke into a smile. She shook the last of the ashes off the paper, folded it, and slid it into her reticule.
“I will send a check to you as soon as I receive your bill.” She nodded and turned to leave.
“It’s already in the mail, miss.” Moses McNeil’s raspy voice followed her into the hallway.
Chapter 19
“Sweetheart, I think we should move up the wedding date.” Eli took a sip of steaming coffee as he regarded Sylvia across the breakfast table.
She frowned. “What did you have in mind? I’ll need enough time to arrange everything, and have a gown made.”
“Can you do it all in a couple of weeks?”
She studied him as he swallowed the last of his eggs. It amazed her how quickly she’d grown to care for him. To the outside world, he came across as all bluster and tough businessman. But it hadn’t taken her long to see the loneliness filling Eli Benson. Although he had a strong sense of pride, he’d agreed to allow her to continue working at the restaurant after they married, merely to please her.
A shadow crept over her as she thought about being put out of her sister’s friend’s house in the middle of a war, with nowhere to go, no one to care about her. The pampered daughter of an industrialist, Sylvia married at twenty-two, and widowed at thirty-seven. Left with no children, but a considerable amount of money, life continued pleasantly until she married Gerald Hardwick, who became ill after a few years of marriage and then died, leaving her penniless. The authorities had even taken the money she’d brought to the marriage.
The fact she could earn enough to support herself restored her security. Eli might be a wealthy man, but Sylvia would squirrel away her earnings, just in case.
She stopped her musing to answer him. “I can be ready in three weeks. It would probably be best since I’ve been staying here.”
“Don’t you worry about that, my dear. It doesn’t matter what people think, because no one would dare snub you. I practically own this town.”
Right after the jail scare, her belongings had been sent from the Hale household to the Benson home, and Sylvia had been ensconced in the guest room. Of course, no one need know she snuck into his bedroom each night, and back out the next morning.
Lucy unfolded the worn paper Mr. McNeil had given her, and taking a sip from her brandy glass, read it once more, grinning. She couldn’t wait to see Nate. In fact, maybe she’d go down to his shop today.
The noise of the door across the hallway closing caught her attention. Most likely Sylvia, leaving her father’s bedroom to scurry into her own, wearing nothing but a flimsy nightgown. Ha! The slut might have everyone else fooled, but not her.
All the attention Papa used to give her, he now lavished on that woman. One Hardwick harlot had taken away her love, and the other her papa. They would pay.
Lucy capped the brandy bottle, and returned it to her hiding place in the closet, before she rang for Bella. The time had arrived to dress, and visit the gunsmith shop.