The Davenports(88)

CHAPTER 40


    Helen



Helen watched florists and contractors walk in and out of the house from the railing of Freeport’s wide veranda. Bouquets of orchids and lilies would adorn the corners of the grand ballroom, redecorated in gold and black for the masquerade ball. Trying to guess which guests hid behind each elaborate disguise would dull the sting of having to attend. And, because no one would recognize her, Helen could slip away early and easily.

This was also the first big social event since she and Jacob Lawrence had revealed their true feelings to each other. Sure, they still had to keep their intentions secret, but at least she didn’t have to dodge him to avoid heartache.

“Young lady, what are you doing here?” Mrs. Davenport asked. “You should be getting dressed.” She crossed her arms and gave Helen a speaking look. The band had arrived. A string quartet from the Negro Orchestra. Their instruments preceded them in shiny black cases. They greeted her and Mrs. Davenport with deep bows. Their arrival meant that last-minute touches were underway, though they still had plenty of time. Her mother directed them to the ballroom, where Amy-Rose showed them the waiting room reserved for the entertainment. When Mrs. Davenport returned her gaze to Helen, she regarded her daughter with some suspicion.

“Mama, we have at least four hours before the first set of guests arrive. Jessie’s already kicked me out of the kitchen.”

“Why don’t you see what your sister is up to?” Mrs. Davenport asked.

Helen pushed off the railing. “That is a splendid idea.” She smiled at her mother and followed the band inside.

Helen knew exactly what Olivia was doing, closed up in her room, trying to decide what, if anything, in her closet was suitable for a trip to Philadelphia. They had pooled their allowances for her to use for lodging and essentials. Neither knew what Olivia was walking into, only that Washington DeWight would be at her side. So, the younger Miss Davenport took the most roundabout way to her sister’s rooms as she could think of.

Though she dared not enter the kitchen, she listened to the clang of pots as the air filled with the scent of a savory broth and Jessie’s roasted chicken. Helen’s stomach protested and she made a slight detour for a sweet roll before she continued her tour of the first floor. Below the grandfather clock in the foyer, a linen-draped table was organized with face masks of varying shapes and sizes. Some were jeweled or covered in a thick crust of glitter—they promised to be a sparkly mess. Others resembled animals with horns and whiskers.

In the ballroom, the silver and frosted chandeliers and table pieces were replaced with brass and iron fixtures that gave the space an Old World feel softened by the flowers she’d seen carried in. All the doors leading to the courtyard were open. Dinner would be served outside. The weather was calm and comfortable—perfect for the Davenports’ nearly two hundred guests to enjoy. A light breeze picked up, blending the fragrant bouquet of the lilies with the scent of fresh cut grass and woodsmoke from the outdoor fireplace.

“Helen!” Mrs. Davenport’s voice from across the way jolted Helen and startled several staff brought on for the evening. “Please, get dressed.”

She suppressed a groan. “Yes, Mama.” Helen took one last look at the setup around her. Perhaps next year, Jacob will be here as my guest.

She was torn between descending upon Olivia and hiding somewhere her mother wouldn’t find her. The garage was out of the question—though she had placed all the parts back in the Model T, she had not had a chance to start it.

She chose her sister.

Helen had spent the morning watching Olivia direct the staff as efficiently as their mother. She was ready to lead her own household, and she was a marvel to watch. In her room, however, Olivia was a different story.

“What happened in here?” Helen asked as she stepped into the chaos that had become her sister’s bedroom. Olivia had turned her entire wardrobe inside out. Garments lay strewn about every surface. Helen sifted through the piles and found a fold of bright fabric still wrapped in tissue. It was pretty. “Can I have this?” Helen asked. The silk spilled onto the bed like liquid sunshine.

Olivia looked her way. “Of course.” She walked over to Helen and took the material from her. A quick shake later, it fell like a cape about Helen’s shoulders, the silk settling over her skin like a warm whisper. She felt glamorous and grown up until she spotted Olivia’s frown.

“Spit those out, Helen. That’s a disgusting habit.” The pearls fell from Helen’s mouth. She caught them before they could touch the bodice of her dress. “Here,” Olivia said, handing her a handkerchief.

“Will you relax,” Helen said, watching her sister tug on the matching strand around her neck. She caught Olivia’s arm. “We’ve gone over this countless times. Mama and Daddy will understand. You’re going to be with the man you love.” She stood up and wrapped her arms around her sister. “And to save both our reputations, Jacob can’t trade you in for a newer model, not immediately at least.”

“Helen! I knew you were cheeky, but when did you become so wise.” Olivia sniffed.

“Mrs. Milford is an excellent teacher,” she said.

They had been doing this a lot the past few days. Helen couldn’t remember a time in recent memory where they embraced so frequently. Her heart felt heavy. She feared this would be the last hug they’d share for a while and she wanted to enjoy every moment of it.