Christmas Pie Page 21

  Deftly, James took the handles of Lillian’s wheelchair and turned her around. He was a little surprised to see Polly’s quick look of dismay. She hid it again immediately.

  As he wheeled Lillian into the parlor, he said, “I have to admit I was annoyed at finding her at work today, Mrs. MacNamara. I had no idea I’m such a hard taskmaster that my employees don’t feel free to take time off under circumstances such as these.”

  With a heavy sigh, Lillian said, “I told her the same thing, Mr. Drayton, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Said she needed distraction.”

  “I know. She told me the same thing.”

  “It’s true.” Polly said sharply, as though she didn’t care for being talked about this way. “I couldn’t bear to sit here all day and worry about Stephen. I couldn’t bear it.”

  James said soothingly, “I understand completely, Miss MacNamara. I probably would feel the same way.”

  “I suppose I understand, too,” Lillian sighed. “God knows, I wish I’d had a little more distraction myself.”

  “Oh, Mother.” Polly’s hands flew to her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I never should have left you. I didn’t think.”

  Her mother forced a look of sternness. “Now don’t go blaming yourself, Polly, or I promise you I shall have the vapors.”

  The three of them smiled at her threat.

  Chapter Twelve

  Polly was glad for the opportunity to leave her mother and James for a few minutes while she prepared tea. Her nerves were completely scrambled.

  While the water heated, she leaned against the kitchen counter, reliving the feel of James’s lips on hers. His kiss had taken her breath away. Not to mention her self-control. She pressed her medals.

  He made a wish, she thought as the teakettle began to sing. He made a wish on my coin.

  She tried to dislodge the fanciful thought, but it wouldn’t be dislodged.

  His spoken wish had been fairly benign. Had he wished for anything else? Had he wished, as she had, that they might meet as man and woman rather than employer and employee? Had he wished for her love as, God help her, she’d wished for his?

  She felt perfectly distracted as she took the teakettle off the stove.

  When she toted the tray into the parlor, Lillian and James were carrying on a desultory conversation. Both seemed to greet her interruption with relief. James leapt to his feet and helped her with the tray, nearly upsetting everything in his enthusiasm. His chivalry made her smile.

  “Truly, Mr. Drayton, you needn’t help. I’m used to doing this.” She gave him a pert look. “You, I see, are not.”

  “You’re right, Miss MacNamara. I’m about as useful in the kitchen as an elephant.”

  Polly felt almost gay when she served the tea.

  “Oh, Polly,” Lillian said, accepting her cup, “I forgot to tell you that you received something interesting in the post today.”

  “I did?” Polly’s thoughts had begun to swirl around coins, kisses and wishes again, and her mother’s words barely registered.

  “Yes. I have it here in my pocket. I believe it’s an invitation.”

  “An invitation?” Her attention captured, Polly put down her teacup and reached for the gold-and-white envelope in her mother’s hand.

  Well, this was certainly intriguing. Polly had so effectively hidden herself away from the world that she seldom received invitations to anything. And a gilt-edged invitation received through the post—well, if a peacock had flown through the window, perched on the table and fanned its regal tail, Polly wouldn’t have been much more surprised.

  “My goodness.”

  As soon as Polly read the engraving, she smiled, her puzzlement banished. “How kind. It’s from Mother Francis Mary. Last week she threatened to invite me to the charity ball again, and she’s carried through on her threat.” Her giggle robbed the words of unkindness.

  “How nice of her. When is the ball, Polly?”

  “Christmas Eve.”

  “Oh.” Lillian gave a small frown. “Well, it’s a little awkward, but I’m sure we can arrange things. Perhaps Grace and George can come on Christmas Day instead of Christmas Eve, dear.”

  With a dismissive wave, Polly said, “Don’t be silly, Mother. Of course, I won’t go to the ball. But it was sweet of her to invite me.”

  “Why not?”

  Polly turned, startled at James’s brusque question. Lillian looked at him, too.

  James cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon, ladies. But, I mean, why not? Why don’t you want to go to the charity ball? I understand it’s a lovely affair and benefits several local charities; a good many people of goodwill attend it. You’d be among like-minded folks, as you’re kind-hearted, too.”

  “Is this ball an annual event?” Lillian smiled at him.

  “Yes. Yes, it is.”

  “Have you attended it before, Mr. Drayton?”

  He cleared his throat again. “Well, no. I have, however, been invited for several years now.”

  “You have? You?”

  Polly sounded so astounded that James took umbrage. He frowned and fiddled with his teacup.

  “I don’t generally care to advertise my involvement in San Francisco’s charities, Miss MacNamara, but I’m truly not a complete wastrel.”

  But Polly waived aside his repressive manner, barely hearing his words. “Is that why I saw Mr. Sing at the orphanage, Mr. Drayton? Was he there at your behest? Are—are you a benefactor of the Sisters of Benevolence?” All at once Mother Francis Mary’s amusement and Raymond Sing’s nervousness began to make sense to her.

  She didn’t give James a chance to formulate an answer. Sitting so far forward that she nearly fell out of her chair, she cried, “So that’s why you sent them the geese. That’s why you already knew about them. Why, you’ve been supporting them all along!”

  “No!”

  Surprised, Polly sat up straight again. James took a gulp of tea.

  “I mean, no, I have not been supporting the Sisters of Benevolence’s orphanage for very long, Miss MacNamara. I have—um—been a contributor to their cause through another—um—organization. My personal involvement came about out of another—project—Raymond Sing and I were working on.”

  Polly didn’t know what to say.

  “What project is that, Mr. Drayton?” Lillian asked after a moment of silence.

  James cleared his throat. “I have established a program whereby young Chinese boys who have been ensnared by poverty or ignorance into working for the tongs and have been arrested for it may be given an opportunity to avoid deportation and earn their ways honestly here in the United States.”

  Her heart swelling with wonder, Polly breathed, “Really?”

  “Er, yes.” James looked at Polly and Lillian nervously and stole another gulp of tea. “You see, I believe that given the chance, most of these young men can offer great contributions to our society. If the law has its way, they’ll be shipped back to China, and God knows what will happen to them then.

  “I see,” Lillian murmured. “How very kind.”

  James made a gesture as if to brush Lillian’s comment aside.

  Polly’s heart sang. Ha! She’d known it all along. Underneath everything—her worry, her distress, her fear, her sorrow, her pain, her uncertainty about James’s motives as regarded herself—she’d just known he possessed a kind heart. It made her very happy to discover that her heart had known the truth all along, even when her mind fussed.

  He seemed terribly uncomfortable to have been found out, too, a circumstance that only made her love him more. Yes. She acknowledged it to herself here and now, even knowing naught would ever come of it. She loved him.

  “Yes. Well, um, anyway—” James stopped speaking and took another swig of tea as though to fortify himself. “Anyway, as I was saying, er—Miss MacNamara, would you consider going to the ball with me? As my guest? It would be my honor to escort you.”

  Lillian, who had been watching the two younger people shrewdly
, immediately said, “Why, what a perfectly splendid suggestion, Mr. Drayton.” She turned to Polly. “You have that beautiful new gown to wear, Polly. It would be a shame to waste it on the family.”

  Polly had been on the verge of politely but firmly declining James’s invitation, however much she wanted to accept it. But her mother’s suggestion stopped her cold. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. Her dress! She’d forgotten all about her dress!

  James seemed relieved by Lillian’s timely intervention. “There. You see? It’s all settled, then.”

  She gulped and stammered, “Oh, but—”

  “Why, yes, Mr. Drayton,” Lillian cut in smoothly. “Certainly. I’ve been longing for Polly to get out in the world. She’s hidden herself away here with me for so long. And truly, I’m not that much of an invalid! Why, I’ve even started climbing the stairs when Polly’s not around to scold me.”

  “What?” All thoughts of balls and ball gowns vanished and Polly gaped at her mother, stricken.

  Lillian patted Polly’s knee. “There, there, dear. I knew you’d fuss if you found out. But Dr. van Pelt encouraged me to try it. I hold very tightly to the banister, so there’s no danger of my falling. And I rest when I get to the top before I start down again.”

  “But—”

  “That’s wonderful news, Mrs. MacNamara,” James interrupted with too-hearty joviality.

  Before Polly could so much as breathe, Lillian sighed happily. “Yes. I’m quite proud of myself, really.”

  Again, Polly opened her mouth to speak, but James said quickly, “And well you should be, ma’am. And I’m sure your daughter is proud of you, too.”

  When Polly caught the warm look James cast her, she only managed to stammer, “I—” before Lillian cut her off again.

  “Yes, well, you don’t know Polly as well as I do, Mr. Drayton. I’m afraid it sometimes suits her to have me bound to my chair.”

  Polly could do more than utter a horrified, “Mother!” before Lillian continued. “You see, although we didn’t consider it at the time, I’m afraid Frank and I must have created a feeling of abandonment in our children. I believe Polly, especially, felt the loss of her parents.”

  Before James could continue the exclusive conversation he and Lillian were carrying on around Polly, she stood up in a furious burst of energy.

  “Stop it! Stop it, both of you!”

  She glared at her mother and James accusingly. “How dare you speak of me as though I weren’t even in the same room with you!”

  With a sigh, Lillian held out her hand. “I’m sorry, dear.”

  A guilty flush stole across James’s cheeks, astounding Polly, who never dreamed that the urbane, sophisticated James Drayton could blush.

  “I apologize as well, Miss MacNamara,” he said sheepishly. “I guess I was afraid you’d somehow manage to refuse my invitation and didn’t want to give you the chance.”

  “And I guess I was afraid to tell you about trying to walk, dear.”

  Polly felt her anger evaporate, leaving in its wake a feeling of desolation. She sat down again, but did not smile.

  “I had no idea I was such a difficult attendant, Mother,” she said in a tight little voice, hurt clamping round her heart like a steel band.

  “Oh, Polly, you’re not. Not really. Not at all.”

  James took another sip of tea, staring at Polly over the rim of his cup. She couldn’t quite meet his gaze, but slanted a peek at him from under her lashes.

  He put his cup back on his saucer with a little clink, and took a deep breath.

  “Will you please go to the San Francisco Christmas Eve Charity Ball with me, Miss MacNamara? It would be my great honor to escort you.”

  His air of formality vanished and was replaced by a mischievous grin. “If you wish, I can pick you up in my horse and carriage rather than my motorcar.”

  Polly didn’t answer for a minute. She forgot her hurt as her mind spun back to the evening she received her beautiful new ball gown and danced in front of her mirror, wishing she had someplace to wear it. She could almost smell the elusive lavender scent now, here in the parlor. Her fingers crept to her medals and she fingered them through her shirtwaist. When she saw James’s gaze drift to her hand, she dropped it into her lap once more.

  “Well . . .” she said, watching her mother and the man she loved, wondering how she could punish them for treating her so—so honestly. She sighed inwardly when she admitted it to herself. Suddenly finding a shimmer of humor in the situation, she decided self-vilification could wait until later.

  “Hmmmm . . .” She gave James a severe, narrow look.

  “Please?” he asked, sweetly, nearly robbing her of breath.

  “Well . . . Do you really promise to leave that noisy, smelly motorcar at home?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Polly sniffed and lifted her chin, striving for a majestic angle. “And is your carriage suitably grand?”

  With a grin, James said, “My carriage is most grand, Mademoiselle. In fact, I shall have it bedecked as suits the season. And my horses are glossy, jet-black, and eminently petable.”

  Polly inclined her head imperiously. “Then I should be happy to accompany you, Mr. Drayton.” She spoke in the loftiest tones she could manage and then spoiled the effect completely by giving him the broadest grin in her repertoire and laughing.

  “But you must know that I’ve never been anyplace elegant before. I won’t know how to go on. I hope I won’t embarrass you.”

  “Don’t be silly, Miss MacNamara. Any day of the week you take the shine out of the useless society damsels I’ve met.”

  Lillian nodded firmly. “There, Polly. You see?”

  Polly remained unconvinced, however happy she felt. Now that she’d accepted James’s escort, her nerves began to quake. At least, thanks to Stephen and Cousin George, she could dance and curtsy and possessed a small inventory of social chit-chat. Both relatives used to practice their gallantries on Polly before they tried them out on their lady friends. As long as nobody spoke to her about anything besides the weather, she’d probably not stammer.

  Still . . . Attending a grand Christmas Eve charity ball with James Drayton was not at all the same as waltzing around the living room with her brother or pretending to take formal afternoon tea with her cousin.

  James rose from his chair, startling Polly out of her frets. “Well, ladies, I’ve had a delightful time, but I regret to say I must get back to business.” With a speaking look for Polly, he said, “I’m afraid I’ve loafed a little too much today. There are legal matters o attend to and a complaint to file. Also, I need to talk to Raymond to see if he’s been able to discover any information concerning China Seas.”

  “You mean you’re checking into the matter, Mr. Drayton?” Suddenly Lillian looked as if she might cry.

  “Yes, ma’am.” James took one of Lillian’s hands in both of his. “Mrs. MacNamara, I can’t promise to find your son, but I can promise you that if there’s anything more to be discovered about the matter, my associates and I will find it.”

  “Oh, Mr. Drayton, I don’t know how to thank you.”