The Address(20)

Sara nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I don’t think my dining room table will fit. And I’m not getting a new one.”

“I will determine the measurements with your housekeeper, Mrs. Putnam, and report back. If not, we can have a carpenter make adjustments.”

“The doorknobs are sterling silver, is that right?”

Mr. Camden forced a smile. “Exactly as you directed.”

“Excellent. I want more plaster molding on the walls and ceiling, covered in gold leaf. The room is rather dingy.”

Dingy was the last word that came to mind. Mr. Camden stuttered but couldn’t seem able to come up with a response, whether from shock or anger at the insult.

Mr. Hardenbergh fiddled with his mustache. “That will be no trouble at all.” Sara didn’t miss the pointed look at Mr. Camden as he spoke.

Sara spoke up. “I can see why you’d want to liven up the room. What if we ordered a set of Limoges jade dinnerware for the cabinets? The color would be lovely and bright.”

The woman looked up as if seeing Sara for the first time. “Limoges. Right. That might work.”

Mr. Camden’s shoulders dropped an inch.

“And do the plaster as well. Gold leaf.”

Mr. Hardenbergh offered to escort Mrs. Putnam back to her carriage. After they’d gone, Mr. Camden ran a hand through his hair. “This is the third time she’s come in and demanded drastic changes. I have no time to redo this room. We’re behind schedule as it is.”

“Leave it for a week or so,” advised Sara. “My guess is she’ll have a new idea by then that may be less painful.”

“Or more.”

They laughed.

“Thank you for trying to reason with her,” he said.

“Well, it’s not like the building is subtle to begin with.” She glanced away, hoping he wasn’t offended.

“It’s far from subtle. I see it as a last gasp in an age of excess. Maybe if I overdo it completely, as is all the rage, we will as a society move on more quickly to another way of design.”

“There’s much to look at. I especially like the gargoyles out front.”

A smile crept over his face. “Now you are teasing me, I can tell. Save it for Mr. Hardenbergh. I promise I won’t take it personally if you find it distasteful.”

“Distasteful is too harsh a word. If you did indeed design this, it appears as if you enjoyed yourself. I see a sense of humor throughout. Is that your contribution?”

Mr. Camden shook his head. “You’ve found me out. I keep waiting for Hardenbergh to come down on me for taking it too far. Corncobs and Indians, for goodness’ sake. Do you mind if I show you something?”

She really should be getting back to her desk, but she couldn’t resist his enthusiasm.

They walked back down to his apartment. Mr. Camden laid his drawings out on the table in the library, blocking the glare with his own shadow. “Blasted sun. Here’s my favorite contribution.”

Mr. Camden was so close to her, she could feel his breath on her neck. She pressed her arms to her sides, embarrassed by the intimacy, as he pointed to a drawing of the low fence that encircled the building. The cast-iron visage of a man with a long, fluffy beard and mustache emerged from each post, with a couple of dragons coiled around the horizontal railings at either side. “Is he supposed to be Father Christmas?”

Mr. Camden’s lip curled up on one side, as if he were trying not to laugh. “It’s a sea god entwined with sea urchins.”

She couldn’t help teasing. “Sea gods and sea urchins, of course. That was my second guess.”

“Just wait until the city gets a sight of what we’ve done up here. Hardenbergh’s reputation will be solidified.”

“And yours?”

“I’ve only just begun. Hardenbergh has promised to help me start up my own firm if the Dakota does well.”

“Won’t you be in competition with each other?”

“Not at all. He’ll continue on with his grand apartment houses and hotels. I want something else entirely. I’m like the canary in the coal mine. If my vision takes off, he’ll have a stake in it. If not, he won’t have risked any damage to his reputation.”

A gust of wind made the drawings flutter. Mr. Camden placed a paperweight on the edge to keep them still.

“It’s awfully bright in here.” Sara pointed to the window. “You really need some draperies. That would help with the wind as well.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll see if the tailor can put something together.”

Sara had seen the tailor’s room in the basement, which so far was empty of everything other than a sewing machine.

“I’m afraid he’s not set up yet. I can make you something, if you like. It won’t be grand, but at least it will keep out the light.”

He looked up. “Could you?”

“I apprenticed as a seamstress, before going to London.”

“That’s right, you had mentioned it. But then you ended up working in a hotel?”

“Yes.” She quickly changed the subject. “I could have them for you within the week, once I have the fabric.”

A lopsided grin crossed his face. “Say, have you been into town yet?”