The Address(22)

“Only a minute or so. I fought back the best I could.”

“You were very heroic.”

Mrs. Haines took a seat in the upright chair against the wall. “They shouldn’t leave us trapped in here with no protection,” said Mrs. Haines. “We all could have been killed. We still could be.”

She was right, but Sara didn’t respond. Daisy lay on Sara’s bed, her head in her lap.

“Poor girl.” Sara stroked her hair. “We’re here now.”

Sara and Mrs. Haines stayed up, listening to the soft sleeping breath of Daisy, craning their ears for the sounds of footsteps, until the dawn broke.



At the clanging of the front gate, Sara and Mrs. Haines gently woke Daisy. Sara led the way downstairs, where Fitzroy manned the entryway as the workmen traipsed into the courtyard, joking and yelling at each other.

“There’s a man here, on the loose,” Sara said. Fitzroy’s eyes squinted with concern as she recounted last night’s episode.

Fitzroy immediately closed and locked up the gate. He shouted for the foreman to take a head count and then asked the women to wait in the reception room while they did a search. Mr. Camden was called for and his tone remained soothing as he questioned a teary Daisy, patting her shoulder when he was finished. The protective gesture almost caused Sara to burst into tears herself. If only she’d had someone who’d seen fit to do the same after her own encounter with Mr. Ainsworth.

Fitzroy blew through the door, huffing. “A window on one of the eastern apartments on the first floor is broken from the inside. He got out that way. I swear, though, Mrs. Haines and I accounted for all the workers at the end of the day yesterday.”

Mrs. Haines nodded but remained silent.

“I assure you we will not let this happen again,” Mr. Camden said to Daisy. “Fitzroy, get that window repaired this morning and we will require a watchman here at night. No point in waiting for the official opening.”

“I’ll add them to the payroll,” offered Sara.

“I’m very sorry, sir,” said Fitzroy.

“You should be.” Mr. Camden glared at him. “The press and the rest of the city are waiting to see the Dakota fail. A scandal like this would have ruined us before a tenant steps foot inside.”

“Right, sir.” The man looked every one of his sixty-odd years.

“Mrs. Smythe, let’s speak in your office.” Mr. Camden dismissed the others.

She followed him inside, shutting the door behind her.

He paced the small room. “Again, my apologies for the intrusion. It pains me to think I was here the entire time but wasn’t able to come to your aid.”

“We are fine, and I have no doubt Fitzroy won’t let it happen again.”

“As a father, the thought of a strange man roaming the halls and breaking into Daisy’s room is abhorrent.”

His protective nature toward his family touched her, but a small sizzle of jealousy flared underneath. She liked the idea that they were friends, and having his family around would no doubt change that once they arrived.

What an awful, selfish thought. She vowed to be more generous.

He placed his hands on his hips and lowered his chin. “I’m afraid I must ask a delicate question.”

“Yes?”

“Does Daisy need a doctor?”

Sara breathed deeply. “I don’t believe so. The girl insisted that he’d only been in her room for a minute. I believe she was unharmed.”

Mr. Camden looked away, embarrassed. “I am glad of that. In any case, if you do think there’s any need for further help, I hope you won’t hesitate to reach out to me.”

“Of course not.”

She wondered if he still remembered his offer to go into town for curtain fabric. She’d been looking forward to seeing more of the city. Even now, the odor of the dank pigsties wafting in from outside reminded her how far out in the hinterlands she was.

Mr. Camden stood to go but paused at the door. “And let’s not forget—”

“Yes?”

“The housemaids will be arriving this week. Are you prepared to get them settled?”

“Of course. I’ve already assigned them rooms and plan on conducting an orientation.”

“Excellent. And for the trip into town, shall we meet at the front gate at ten o’clock?”

He’d remembered. She smiled, then tamped it down. It was a trip to town, after all, nothing to be so excited about. A similar excitement had very nearly ruined her years ago, while in Mrs. Ainsworth’s employ, and she had remained wary of the ulterior intentions of men ever since. Yet in the intervening decade and a half, she’d proved uncanny at detecting the cur among gentlemen, and Mr. Camden seemed to fall into the latter category. “Very good, sir.”

To Sara’s delight, Mr. Camden arranged for an open landau for the journey, which meant she could view the city without obstruction. Her gaze swiveled around left and right as he pointed out various mansions along Fifth Avenue below the park.

He ordered the carriage to stop at Fifty-Second Street. “Behold the masterpiece that made Richard Morris Hunt the most sought-after architect in New York.”

Sara gasped out loud. “Is this a house for one family?”

“Not just any family. The Rutherfords. Mr. Stafford Rutherford and his wife, Mrs. Alma Rutherford.”