CHAPTER 4
As the steam locomotive pulled into the into the newly constructed Grand Central Depot at the corner of Lexington and Madison Avenues, he was relieved to finally put some distance between himself and Dr. Mike. The cramped traveling quarters had made it difficult for him to refrain from expressing his developing feelings, and he feared he might disgrace himself by becoming too forward with his refined and naïve traveling companion. Fortunately, she appeared oblivious to his increasing discomfort.
It was also the first time he had returned to the city since his ma had died. Although he had no blood kin left there or, for that matter, anywhere else, he still felt a peculiar affinity for the poor neighborhood, Five Points in the Sixth Ward, where he had lived with his parents and older brother after they emigrated from England. The Sixth Ward was a foul-smelling, dirty slum of narrow alleyways and rundown houses with broken windows. Drunks and prostitutes littered the street corners. Murders were an everyday occurrence.
His brother, christened Percy William, who his ma called Willie, had been killed while trying to flee a rival gang of boys. He was thrown and dragged to death across the dirt-and-cobblestone street when his foot caught in the stirrup of a stolen horse behind McSorley's Pub in the East Village. His pa had died from what his ma had called a "broken heart." Pa never took to living in the city, as he had been a farmer before they immigrated to the United States. His mother, inconsolable after his pa and brother's deaths, had drowned herself in the cold and brackish waters of the Lower Hudson River. Sully was only ten years old and had seen her jump from the bridge.
The pair exited the lavish depot terminal as the last light of day created long shadows against New York's many buildings. More than one traveler turned to stare at the unusually dressed, buckskin-clad, mountain man with the fashionably dressed young woman. They seemed a strange combination of the uncivilized and the sophisticated.
The red-capped porter hailed a carriage and loaded the varied pieces of their luggage into the boot. Sully assisted her up and into the landau and gave the driver the address of the Grand Hotel* at 1232 Broadway.
"You tired, Dr. Mike?" he asked in a concerned voice, as he draped a light traveling blanket across her knees.
She reclined back against the leather carriage seat before responding wearily, "A little, Sully. And more than ready to unpack and soak in a hot bath. How about you? Are you tired as well?"
His mind couldn't help but vividly picture her relaxing in a luxurious tub with her silky skin and rounded bosom barely hidden from his view. Only the depth of the bath water and the cloud of scented bubbles would keep him from seeing her resplendent body. He could imagine lifting her from the warm, fragrant water and wrapping her curvaceous figure in a soft towel before carrying her to a waiting bed. There he could touch all her secret places, inhale her distinctive womanly scent, and make passionate love to her throughout the night. Her tender murmurs of pleasure as he ran his hands across her back and clutched her delightful bottom before pulling her toward his hard…
Suddenly realizing she had asked him a question, he finally stumbled over his words replying, "Nah, uh, I ain't tired. This trip was lots easier than sleepin' in the woods. Besides, I got to look at beautiful scenery and spend time with you." His pulse had quickened at his audacious thoughts, and he turned to look at the passing store windows. He had to get his daydreaming under control before she realized he had progressed from being a friend to now wanting to be her lover.
Dr. Mike, who was secretly pleased he enjoyed spending time with her, didn't realize the beautiful scenery to which he referred was actually her…
There was a note from Mr. Watkins at the front desk of the hotel for Dr. Mike and Sully apologizing for his not meeting them upon arrival. Unfortunately, he was finalizing the photographic showing with Mr. John Jay, Esquire, the founder and benefactor of the museum, but hoped they would enjoy dinner in the hotel dining room as his guests.
The desk clerk, an older man who prided himself on his ability not to be flustered by eccentric or rancorous guests, was clearly surprised at the buckskin-clad doctor named Dr. Michael Quinn and his charming traveling companion. He looked across the high counter at Sully, addressed him as "Dr. Quinn," and invited him to sign the register.
Dr. Mike, upon hearing the clerk's mistake, responded in her best professional voice. "No, I am Dr. Michaela Quinn, and this is Mr. Byron Sully. I believe we have rooms arranged by Mr. Watkins."
The clerk was clearly disconcerted. He looked at the pair and shoved the leather-bound hotel register closer for their signatures. "Uhhhh, I'm sorry…you're the doct…?" He suddenly stopped in mid-sentence as he saw anger flash in the woman's eyes. "There must have been some mistake. Foregive me, ma'am. We at the Grand Hotel pride ourselves on exemplary service, so please accept my apologies. I see where Mr. Watkins has requested a suite of rooms for your and the gentleman's stay."
Sully, who was secretly grinning as Dr. Mike bristled at the perceived offense, stepped forward to sign his name.
She glanced at the nameplate on the counter that read Mr. Henry, Front Desk Manager, before speaking further…
"Mr. Henry, Mr. Sully and I would prefer dinner be served in our suite in one hour. I would like baths prepared for us both afterwards. In addition, we will need the services of New York's best dressmaker and tailor tomorrow morning. Is that clear? Oh, and I will need the assistance of a hairdresser and lady's maid tomorrow evening." Dr. Mike, who was plainly peeved by the desk clerk's unfortunate mistake, tersely detailed her wishes.
The desk clerk mumbled an affirmative response and called for a uniformed bellhop to carry the luggage and escort the couple to their suite.
As she turned to follow the bellhop, Sully glanced over his shoulder and saw Mr. Henry wiping his brow with a clean, white handkerchief.
After the bellhop placed Dr. Mike's luggage and Sully's deerskin rucksack on their respective luggage stands, Sully tipped the young man and saw him to the door. There was a massive arrangement of pink and yellow roses on the side table, and Dr. Mike was intently reading the attached card.
"They're from Mr. Watkins. Oh, what a lovely thought and they smell divine," she intoned as she leaned over to inhale their sweet fragrance.
Sully, who was plainly jealous, walked over and snatched the card from her hand. It read: My Dearest Dr. Quinn, I am delighted that you consented to being my honored guest at the gallery showing and I look forward to being your escort for the gala tomorrow evening. My photographs will pale when compared to your charming loveliness though. It was signed, With great affection, Daniel Watkins. Sully tossed the floral card on the table and asked in a sarcastic voice, "So Watkins is escortin' you to the dance tomorrow night?"
"Well yes, Sully. Perhaps you misunderstood the invitation and note I received in Colorado Springs. It clearly stated I was to be his guest and he requested the honor of escorting me to the gala."
He'd been leaning against the side table but now pushed away from the table's edge and headed toward the doorway of his bed chamber. As he walked through the opening, he said without turning around, "Then I guess you don't need me ta go then. I think I'll get some sleep. Goodnight." The door shut decisively behind him.
Greatly perplexed, she called out in a bewildered tone. "What about dinner, Sully?" There was no answer, and the wooden door remained shut.
The following morning, she dined alone in the suite and heard no sound from the room across from hers. She had even pressed her ear against the heavy door but could not detect any noise at all. Surely, he had not checked out and returned to Colorado, had he? It would be too embarrassing to ask the inept Mr. Henry. Why was Sully so annoyed last night? Would he be at the gala tonight? Her discomfiting thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the suite door by Brigitte from Madame Fournier's Couture. Brigitte and her sewing assistants had brought several of Madame's most exquisite ball gowns. Dr. Mike finally selected an emerald green-and-black silk affair with hand-sewn lace and beaded appliqués. The gown, with its squared-off neckline and capped sleeves, had recently been featured in the Godey's Lady's Book. Her hair, she decided, would be dressed with masses of curls and allowed to trail across her bare shoulders.
Brigitte exclaimed as the assistants did the final fitting. "Mademoiselle Quinn. Vous etes tres magnifque et belle! Vous etes une vision dan cette robe!" She then called to the assistants to hurry and finish the alterations. "Dépêchez-vous. Dépêchez-vous."
Later in the afternoon, an armed courier from the renowned Tiffany & Co. delivered a wooden jewelry case with satin lining to her room. The box contained a large emerald-and-diamond necklace, matching earrings, and two gem-encrusted hair combs. The accompanying note invited her as the evening's guest of honor to borrow the jewels, compliments of the famed jewelry store.
She could only hope Sully would have an opportunity to see her in the stunning dress she had so carefully chosen for the evening's festivities. Though society might look askance at her preference, she was not dressing to catch the attentions of a famous photographer but rather was set on capturing the heart of a handsome mountain man…
*The Grand Hotel was built in 1868 at the direction of Elias S. Higgins to provide luxury accommodations for guests who visited nearby theatres and restaurants. The hotel was designed in the French Second Empire style and featured an impressive mansard roof design. The building was added to The National Register of Historic Places in 1983.
