AN: I posted two chapters today, so please be sure you've read Chapter IX before going any further.
As promised, here is Chapter X. I think you might find the end of it a bit surprising. I actually did and I wrote it! lol
As always, your review would be greatly appreciated.
XX
I see you still are defending the downtrodden, Cousin Matthew," rang out to his right in a distinctly feminine voice, resulting in the interview coming to an abrupt halt as the men conducting it turned their attention to the attractive blonde at his side.
He turned quickly and seeing the lovely vision in red before him, broke into a wide grin.
"Rose! You are a sight for sore eyes," he said and pulled her into an embrace.
"As are you, Matthew," she replied. "My heart was in my throat when White Star made the announcement that the Olympic was delayed due to a collision. Fortunately, they added quickly that the ship suffered minimal damage and no passengers were injured. Thank God you all are safe."
He saw Atticus over her shoulder then kissing Mary on the cheek and Victoria hopping in place and beckoning him. Knowing there was little else he could do for the two Captains, he waved to his daughter and called out, "We're coming," hoping that would settle her down a bit.
Releasing Rose, his eyes went back to the two commanders and he saw Captain Binks leading his counterpart back to the ship, thereby putting an effective end to any further filming.
"Well done," she said, patting him on the back. "I'm sure that poor man appreciates your speaking up on his behalf."
"Thank you for your kind words, my dear. I just wish I could have done more for him," he replied solemnly, his gut wrenching as he saw Braithwaite was leaning heavily on Binks on their way up the gangway. He sighed before adding in a much more upbeat tone, "However, seeing as I cannot…, I think it is time that you and I return to our respective spouses. You know that patience isn't one of your cousin's virtues and no doubt Atticus is wondering what is keeping you. Besides, I fear if we don't get moving, my daughter will soon come tearing across the pier and wind up in the harbor."
At that, Rose began to chuckle and motioned for him to lead the way.
XX
Chapter X
Once he passed through the terminal's pink granite archway to the street, Matthew was led to one of the most beautiful automobiles he had ever seen. His eyes wide, he gazed slowly over the length of the car and then let out a long whistle of appreciation before his attention was diverted by the tall, good looking chap with his sleeves rolled up at the rear end.
The man was assisting a porter half his size in strapping down the trunk that he and Mary would be taking with them to Rose and Atticus's home. His shoulders were broad, and as he maneuvered the heavy luggage into place, the fabric that covered his upper body was strained to the limit, showcasing his fine physique.
Therefore, he did not find it surprising that Mary did not respond to him the first time he had addressed her as her attention lay elsewhere.
What he had not anticipated, however, was that he would have to tap her on the shoulder in order to get her to look his way.
Mary turned and blinked at the sight of him as if he had materialized out of thin air and said, "I'm sorry, darling, did you say something?" making it clear she had not heard him call her name three times.
His eyebrows knitted together and lips puckered with indignation. Granted the man was handsome, but still..three times was a lot.
"Is something wrong, Matthew?" she asked, appearing completely bewildered.
Was there? he asked himself. Though it was true that his ego was a bit bruised, it would heal quickly. One kiss from Mary would see to that. He then reminded himself that although his wife might give a handsome man a passing glance, she never looked at anyone the way she looked at him.
He was a lucky man.
The tension in his face relaxed, and finally having Mary's attention, he asked her if she was sure they didn't need anything from the luggage that was being sent ahead to Newport.
"Speak now or forever hold your peace," he jested. "Our trunks are being loaded onto a train as I speak."
Mary assured him she had sifted through them carefully to be certain they would have what they would need for the two days they would be spending in New York with the Aldridge family.
"I did, as well," Anna piped in, excusing herself from the conversation she was engaged in with Atticus while Rose fawned over the children
Her response eased his mind. There had been so much change in his life this past week that the thought of his having to use a new toothbrush or not being able to wear his customary pajamas was unsettling, no matter how silly that sounded, even to him.
Matthew's eyes went back to the stranger and he discovered that the trunk had been secured and he was now rolling down his shirt sleeves. Then the man reached into his pant pocket, pulled out two oval shaped gold cufflinks, inserted them into their respective slots and proceeded to adjust the knot in his striped silk tie.
Based on his actions, he had assumed that the still unidentified chap with Herculean strength was a member of the Aldridge household staff, but the diamond chip he had spotted in the center of his cufflinks made that assumption highly unlikely.
Adding to his confusion regarding the man's relationship to Atticus and Rose, Matthew saw him reach into the car and lift his suit jacket from the front seat on the driver's side.
Could he be Atticus's driver? he asked himself as the man slipped into the garment.
No, if that were the case, he would be wearing a chauffer's uniform, not a fashionable suit and expensive cufflinks
But what was his role, then?
Though Matthew was curious, he found himself drawn back to the car. The sheer beauty of it pulled him toward it like metal to a magnet and he bridged the gap between him and the automobile quickly.
Once he reached the object of his desire, he gently ran his hand over the quarter panel and exclaimed, "A Bentley. A '31 Bentley. How did you ever manage to get your hands on one, Atticus? If memory serves, there were only 100 made before the company went into receivership and was taken over by Rolls-Royce."
Atticus beamed at the car with pride, its hunter green body and shiny metal spoke wheels gleaming in the sunlight, enhancing its beauty.
"I see you share my appreciation for fine automobiles," he said, looking at the car as if seeing colors for the first time. "…and she certainly is a beauty, Matthew…but she has a good deal more to recommend her than her appearance – an eight-litre chassis, four-speed gearbox with a single-plate dry clutch, and wire centre-lock wheels fitted with drum brakes, just to name a few of her finer features. She rides like a dream and can reach a speed in excess of 200 kilometers per hour," he crowed with pride.
At that, Matthew saw Mary and Rose rolling their eyes in unison and Anna covering her mouth with her hand to hide her amusement.
He assumed Atticus had seen it, too, as he cleared his throat and then went on to say that his father had presented the car to him on his 30th birthday to celebrate it and the birth of his and Rose's middle child, Daniel, who came into the world that very same day.
"As soon as he learned that his grandson would be named after him, he was so overjoyed that he insisted upon the lavish gift, no matter how much I protested. In fact, he made arrangements to have it shipped over the following day. Of course, once I saw it, my objections came to a swift halt," he added.
"Of course," Matthew replied with dramatic flourish.
Then Mary caught his eye and jested, "Perhaps we should have named our first-born Robert instead of George."
"No, I think we got the name just right," Matthew replied in the same playful tone, flashing his son a smile. "Besides, I am quite sure that your father could never bring himself to part with a Bentley."
The women in the group found his comment particularly amusing and he joined in their merriment before returning his attention to Atticus, who still had his sights set on his birthday gift.
"I only take her out on special occasions as it is impossible to get replacement parts should they be needed… and they would be, too, as the roadways here are quite congested and, therefore, rife with what New Yorker's refer to as 'fender benders'," he said, gesturing to the rows of cars and taxis lining the pier. "You see, Bentley stopped producing them when they went bankrupt," he said and sighed. "We have a Packard that we use routinely… and then there are a good number of cabs at the ready and limousines, if the occasion calls for one…and if all else fails, one could resort to public transportation…trains, trolleys, buses and the like."
The conversation regarding the Bentley at an end, Rose called out to the still unidentified man outside of their close-knit group, who had returned to the rear of the automobile and was giving the leather strap that secured their luggage one last tug.
"I don't know what we would do without you, Smitty," she exclaimed.
Aha…a friend, then. Surely an employee wouldn't be addressed so casually, Matthew told himself.
But then again, his inner voice countered, Rose has been known to deviate from established social norms.
"You will never have to wonder about that, my darling wife, as I made sure he signed an iron-clad contract when I hired him," Atticus said in a playful tone and then winked at his employee.
Aha..It appears I was right on both counts. He is an employee and a friend. Matthew thought, feeling smug with himself as the man approached him, Mary and Anna with a smile that mirrored his employer's.
"It is my pleasure to introduce you to Mr. Joseph Haversmith, affectionately known as Smitty to our family," Atticus said, pulling the man into the small circle. "He manages every aspect of our household as well as assisting me with various tasks at the bank ….and my lovely wife is correct in that we would be lost without him."
Atticus then went on to complete his introduction, identifying him, Mary, Anna and the children, ending with the youngest Crawley, to his affable employee.
"Another Victoria?" Mr. Haversmith said, beaming down at her.
"Yes, I'm afraid we will have to find a way to distinguish who we are speaking to if our daughters are in the same room," Mary said.
"I hope you really don't mind," Rose spouted. "Atticus and I both loved the name so much…and since we would be 3,000 miles apart, we didn't think our daughter and yours sharing the same name would cause too much confusion."
"Of course, I don't mind…and neither does Matthew…or anyone else at Downton," she replied. "It is a lovely name and we certainly have no claim on it."
Rose smiled. "I'm so glad…I was worried you might feel differently…and you'll be happy to know that we actually won't have any difficulty in addressing the girls since our daughter responds to 'Vickie' more often than not."
Matthew moved to Victoria's side and pulled her close. "We had no choice in the matter as she insisted upon being called by her given name as soon as she was old enough to speak. Mary and I knew then and there that our little girl had inherited her great-grandmother's iron will."
"Which one?" Rose asked.
He gave the question a few moment's thought, and then replied that although he had been referring to Violet Crawley, it could easily have been Martha Levinson, as she, too, was a formidable woman." Then after veering his gaze from his wife to his daughter, he proclaimed, "Upon further consideration, I can see that this particular apple fell from a much closer tree."
Feigning outrage, Mary turned to him with her eyes narrowed into thin slits, the expression on her face causing all the adults to break out into laughter and the children to shake their heads in confusion.
Then the sound of a car horn blasting broke them out of their revelry.
"Hey, Mista…are you gonna move dat car anytime soon? You've been here an owa and I'm tryin to make a livin here," the man shouted through the open window of his taxi.
Though he saw Rose scowl at the cab driver and open her mouth to respond, Atticus forestalled whatever retort she had coming with a pleading look and then suggested they get going.
"Matthew, Smitty will drive you all to the house while I take a cab, if that is agreeable. Even though the Bentley is spacious, it cannot accommodate six adults and three children. I will join you there later as I need to make a short stop at the bank to sign some documents."
It suited him fine, but he could see it did not sit well with Rose at all as her jaw dropped and a deep crease formed between her pale colored brows.
"I promise I'll be home before dinner, Rose. Please don't look at me that way. I give you my word that I won't be long, darling." he said.
Her lips tightened and she stared at Atticus for a long moment. Then she let out a sigh and crossed over to him, taking his hands in hers and giving him a quick peck on the cheek.
"Then get going, so you will be able to honor your word and stay in my good graces," she said in a lighthearted tone.
At that, Atticus planted a kiss on his wife's forehead, then tipped his hat to his guests before making his way to Mr. Haversmith with what Matthew assumed to be instructions for him. However, he was abruptly interrupted from completing his task by the cab driver, who had complained about the Bentley a moment ago.
"Hey, Mista… I can take ya where you gotta go. It's the least ya can do after makin me lose so much dough."
Hearing the man's unique adaptation of the English language, Matthew 's eyebrows raised.
Atticus quickly finished his conversation with Mr. Haversmith and nodded in the cab driver's direction. Then upon reaching Matthew, he muttered "Brooklyn."
XX
"Are we all ready to go then," Mr. Haversmith asked, as the taxi transporting his employer joined the ranks of checkered cabs leaving the pier.
"Yes, but we'll have come to up with some workable seating arrangements," Rose replied, raising her finger to her lips and narrowing her eyes in deep concentration.
"We can take a taxi and follow you," Matthew said. "It really wouldn't be a bother, Rose."
"Nonsense," she replied in a tone that brooked no argument. "I'm not letting you and Mary out of my sight. We must make judicious use of our time together since it is so short and I have loads of questions about Downton that I've saved for the trip home."
"I can sit on your lap, Father," Victoria said. "I promise I won't bounce around too much and make your trousers wrinkly."
Matthew beamed down at her and replied, "That's an excellent idea, sweetheart…and I have no doubt you will do everything in your power not to make me appear disheveled. Besides, I really don't mind a few wrinkles."
Rose mirrored his smile and thanked Victoria for her suggestion before asking Anna if she would mind joining her in the front seat since her build was slighter than Mary's.
"I think the boys might fit nicely in the back between you and Mary, Matthew," she continued. "Yes…yes…I think that will work quite well,"
Then she turned to the man who would be occupying the driver's seat and asked him what he thought of her plan.
"It works for me if it does everyone else," Mr. Haversmith replied.
Matthew turned to Mary and Anna to get their input, and upon finding the two of them had no objection, he gave Rose a thumb's up and directed George and JR to hop into the backseat.
XX
As they soared up Sixth Avenue, it became clear to Matthew that Atticus had not exaggerated about the Bentley driving like a dream. The engine hummed softly beneath the expansive hood, even when shifting into a different gear, and the ride was so smooth that you felt as though you were riding on air instead of asphalt.
He found, too, that if all the car windows were closed, it almost completely eliminated the noise outside, which was evidenced by the low roar of a passing train making its way on what Rose referred to as the Sixth Avenue El.
However, cramped as he was, his need for fresh air outweighed his desire to squelch the sounds of the city and he rolled down the window and took in a deep breath.
"In 1811, the City of New York appointed a commission to create a regular plan of streets for the part of Manhattan Island that was unbuilt at that time. The commissioners produced a grid whereby east-west routes were called streets and the roads that intersected them, avenues," Mr. Haversmith called out.
"The streets run east-west and numbers ascend as we move northward, which is referred to as uptown, and the avenues, south-north, with numbers beginning on the east side of the island and ascending to the west. Fifth Avenue is Manhattan's central dividing line…and apart from the numbered streets, there is Lexington, Park and Madison Avenue which run east to west.
"I know it sounds complicated, but I assure you that it isn't. It just takes a little while to familiarize yourself with the roads. Frankly, I found it much more difficult to navigate London."
Rose then turned her head toward those in the back seat and said, "We'll be turning onto Park Avenue soon and heading uptown to West 79th Street. Once we reach it, our townhouse is just a hop, skip and a jump away."
Matthew jested, "I hope there are roads leading to your door as I have no energy to hop, skip or jump!"
Though he chuckled after his statement, it was the truth. His legs were alseep and his mind mush. He couldn't even concentrate long enough to visualize the street layout that Haversmith had rendered.
All he could manage at the moment was sightseeing, and he settled back into the comfortable leather seat and proceeded to do just that.
Many of the buildings boasted the art deco style of architecture, which he found quite appealing. The modern design emphasized vertical lines and incorporated new materials like chrome, stainless steel, and opaque plate glass.
One such building was clad in limestone, another in white brick with dark gray brickwork laid horizontally around the windows, and a third, a wide structure with a rose-colored granite base and glazed tan brick on the mass above it.
Though the structures may have shared the same architectural style, they each had uniqure flourishes, and he found the plaster friezes of sunrises and mythological figures as well as geometric designs such as pyramids, chevrons and lightning bolts elevated the them to works of art.
Men wearing non-descript suits and women outfitted in muted colors jettisoned out of revolving glass doors into a flow of human traffic that moved in opposite directions on the concrete pavement. Each merged seamlessly into what appeared to be an endless line, quickly picking up their step to keep pace with the moving crowd.
It amazed him how they moved in lockstep with one another, even when their movement was interrupted by someone zig-zagging through the line in order to cross the street or hail a taxi at the curb.
Good thing, too. One misstep could result in a calamity, he thought, envisioning a row of tumbling dominos.
His musings were interrupted, then, as the car came to a jarring halt at what appeared to be East 22nd Street.
"He should have pulled over sooner," Mr. Haversmith, said as white smoke filled the air. "The car is overheating so badly that the radiator might burst if the driver doesn't shut it down immediately. Now it will have to be pushed out of the lane."
Matthew was still digesting the disconcerting news when the sound of metal crashing against metal made him jump in his seat, nearly dislodging Victoria.
Fortunately, the Bentley had not been hit, but it had now effectively been blocked in between the automobile that had overheated and two cars that had just had a 'fender bender' the next lane over.
Not for the first time since they left Southampton, he missed Tom, knowing he would have made quick work of dislodging the locked fenders as well as getting the disabled vehicle off the road. Then resigning himself to the fact that that would not be occurring any time soon, he adjusted Victoria to a more comfortable position on his lap and resumed his sightseeing.
"Look, Mary, there is the Flatiron Building," he said with a note of excitement in his voice.
Mary leaned across the seat to get a better view and her eyes widened. "It does resemble a flat iron, "she exclaimed. "What an odd design. I've never seen anything like it."
"I think it looks like a very, very big slice of pie," Victoria piped in and began counting the number of floors, paying no mind to the commotion taking place around her.
That is, until a police officer mounted on a chestnut mare pulled up outside Mary's window.
"Such a rich color…and she is so good tempered," Mary gushed. "I can't believe how calm she is in the midst of all this commotion...No doubt, she had an excellent trainer."
Haversmith took notice, too, and said, "I'd better see what I can do to help before Atticus gets home before we do."
Seeing the man rolling up his sleeves, Matthew's first impulse was to offer him his assistance, but he was spent and the mere thought of what it would entail made his back twinge.
I'll explain why I couldn't help to him later, he told himself, not wanting to appear like a sloth, snob, or both.
He still felt guilty, though, sitting in relative comfort as the Aldrich employee, police officer and the younger of the two men involved in the accident joined forces to clear the road.
"Mr. Haversmith is quite strong, isn't he, Father?" George said, seeing the automobile edging forward.
Matthew found all eyes were glued on the man, whose tailored shirt was once again in danger of ripping open at the seams as he pushed hard against the trunk of the heavy Ford.
"Yes, George, he is," Mathew replied, giving credit where credit was due and wishing once more that he was up to the task.
If only Tom were here.
XX
"But I didn't finish counting the floors, Father," Victor whined as they rode past the Flatiron Building.
"I'm sorry you couldn't finish, sweetheart, but we cannot hold up the other cars behind us any longer than they have been already. You would be upset if someone stood in your way of getting to where you wanted to go, wouldn't you?"
Victoria gave her father's question some thought and then lamented, "I suppose so…but I was so close to the top…and now I'll never know."
There are 20 floors, Victoria…," Mr. Haversmith called out, waving the impatient driver behind him to go around so that he little girl could get one last look. "…and the reason it is called the Flatiron Building isn't because it is shaped like one, even though it is. It is because it was built on a piece of land in what is known as the Flatiron district, where three streets come together in that shape. Its oddity in design makes it very special and a popular tourist attraction."
At that, George cried out, "Victoria, Will you please move your head so that JR and I can get a look at it. We've been unable to see anything out of your window."
"Now, now, you mustn't be cross with your sister, George. She isn't purposefully blocking your or JR's view," Matthew said.
Hearing his father's reprimand, he frowned, crossed his arms over his chest and sulked for a few moments before composing himself and apologizing to Victoria.
Though he had to admonish George for hurting his sister's feelings, Matthew couldn't really blame him for being a bit hot under the collar. The lad was being squeezed like an orange from both ends and the car was stifling when they were stopped in traffic.
'Is that what we are, Father? Tourists?" she asked, with her torso now plastered against his chest.
"Yes, sweetheart, we are since we are visiting a place for pleasure."
He saw a crease forming between Victoria's brows and her nose wrinkled up in confusion. Then she said, "Are we tourists when we visit Aunt Edith at her office in London, too? That is a special place."
He smiled and searched for the right words to make his meaning clear. However, Mary beat him to the punch.
"No, darling," she said. "Though Aunt Edith's publishing company is a special place to you, it is not to the London population in general. Does that make sense?"
Taking note that their daughter still appeared perplexed, Matthew added, "Tourists live in different places than the ones they are visiting or touring. Though we don't live in London, we do live in England, so we would not be called tourists there. It would be like our calling Uncle Evelyn a tourist when he visits us at Downton Abbey. Better?"
Victoria was silent for a few moments and then she said, "Much."
Tourism still the topic of conversation, George asked the driver which sites were most popular."
"From what I've seen, the skyscrapers get the most attention, primarily the Empire State Building, which is not far from here. It is the tallest building in the entire world with 102 floors. Then there is the Chrysler Building with 77, Rockefeller Building with 70, and Woolworth Building with 57, just to name a handful…and we will be passing a grand hotel soon, one of the grandest in the entire world, "The Waldorf Astoria" that stands 47 stories high."
George's eyes widened with enthusiasm. "We will visit it them, won't we, Father?" he asked with pleading eyes.
Matthew caught Mary's eye and gestured for her to field this one.
"I'm sure Cousin Rose has made plans for us to visit as many of the popular attractions as possible in the time we are here," Mary said, scooting her bottom a few inches until she was flush against the car door in order to give the boys a bit more room.
"I certainly have," Rose called out, rotating her body so that she now faced the back seat and gripping the top rim with her hands. "I've arranged a picnic luncheon in Central Park tomorrow, followed by bicycling. Then a stop at the Carousel, which I know Victoria will love it as much as my Vickie does. It is quite grand. Unfortunately, the zoo is under construction now as it is being renovated, but I think the Museum of Natural History will fill in nicely…and then onto FAO Schwarz, which is the largest and by far the grandest toy emporium in the world."
She focused her eyes on Victoria then and added, "The entire first floor is completely filled with dolls."
At that, Victoria nearly bounced off his lap with excitement.
'You forgot to mention the Empire State Building, Rose," Mr. Haversmith said, tipping his head in the direction of the building. "I secured tickets this morning, including access to the observation deck."
"Thank you, Smitty," she called over her shoulder.
Looking about the cab of the car, Matthew saw that Rose's plans had gone over well. Then seeing the light in her eyes, he realized that there were more to come.
"We've got tickets to see a Broadway play tomorrow evening with a very prominent figure…Don't ask me his name because I won't tell you…I insist on it being a surprise…and after the show, he and his wife will join us for drinks and dancing at the Stork Club…Oh, Mary, you are going to love it. The ambiance is lovely, the music divine and the club is rife with celebrities… not just movie stars, either. Mr. Billingsley…he's the owner of the club…introduced Atticus and I to Ernest Hemingway a few weeks ago. I told him how much I enjoyed A Farewell to Arms and he had an autographed first edition delivered to me the next day." She paused for a moment to catch her breath and then added, "That same night, we were seated two tables away from Clark Gable…who, by the way, is even more handsome in person than he is on the screen, and when I passed by his table on the way to the Powder Room, he smiled and winked at me…Can you believe it? He winked at me! I felt...Well, at that moment, I didn't feel like a wife and mother of three...I felt young again and Oh so pretty."
There was a note of sadness in her voice that troubled him, and Matthew jumped in to set her straight
"Come now, Rose, you are far from being old... and I think you look even more beautiful now than the first day I laid eyes on you."
She blushed at the compliment and flashed him a brilliant smile. Then she brought the conversation back to Mr. Gable.
"Have you seen his latest yet? It is absolutely wonderful…a comedy with Claudette Colbert called It Happened One Night…You and Matthew must see it.
At that, Mary said she would make a point to do so while in Newport and Anna piped in that Mr. Bates wouldn't miss any movie starring Claudette Colbert as he adored the actress.
Matthew liked her, too, but the only thing that he could get excited about at the moment was taking a nap.
He wondered if he appeared as exhausted as he felt, and then caught the look on Rose's face and knew he did. Fatigue had set in hours ago and though he did his best to hide it, hearing the activities she had in store for him the next day tired him even more.
Rose frowned and said, "I'm so sorry. You and Mary are clearly put out and here I am rambling on and on"
"You have nothing to apologize for, my dear," she said, reaching over and giving her cousin's hand a squeeze. "I know I can speak for Matthew in that we are both very grateful for the plans you've made. They sound wonderful.""
He managed a nod and smile in Rose's direction and planted a kiss on the top of Victoria's head, knowing that she was bursting with excitement, yet remained still to keep his trousers from creasing.
It became clear she wasn't the only one who was either as JR exclaimed, "Tomorrow we'll be looking down from the top of the Empire State Building. Imagine what a thrill that is going to be, George."
George's eyes glazed over, leading Matthew to believe he was doing just that.
Anna looked back at her offspring and said, "We must be sure to get a souvenir for your father...and perhaps you can write down some notes, JR. He will want to know all the details of our visit."
Her comment reminded Matthew that George would be picking the Aldrige employee's brain for he next two days, and he thought it polite to give the man fair warning.
"My son is very inquisitive, Mr. Haversmith. I'm afraid you may find yourself bombarded with questions."
"I find his thirst for knowledge commendable, Mr. Crawley, and would be happy to share whatever I've learned with him. My only hope is that I'm up to the task…You see, I am not a native New Yorker. I emigrated here from Germany 10 years ago," he replied.
Over his daughter's head, Matthew could see Rose's snap to attention, and she cut her conversation with Anna short. He turned his attention then to the erstwhile maid, and finding her body plastered against the side door, wondered why she hadn't been slotted to sit in the middle due to her size As it was, Rose had to remove her hat because it was blocking the rear-view mirror and when the car made a left turn, she nearly wound up in the driver's lap.
Then his observation was put to rest as Haversmith began speaking. "I came to America to heal…," he began in a solemn tone. "When I was 24 year's old, I lost the most important person in my life and found I could no longer be happy in Berlin. I needed a fresh start in a place that did not remind me of….Well, suffice to say, I needed a fresh start…and one morning, I got out of bed, packed a suitcase with the bare essentials and booked passage on the first ship I could find that was going to New York… I have been here since and never have regretted my decision, especially now with the upheaval taking place since Hitler became Chancellor. You see I 'm a German-Jew."
At that, he saw George's eyes widen, but he knew his son's upbringing would prevent him from asking Mr. Haversmith to elaborate any further on his plight.
He, too, had been surprised by the man's declaration regarding his heritage and even more so by his willingness to share such personal details about his life with virtual strangers, albeit not to the woman sitting next to him.
Matthew took notice that she was transfixed by the man's voice and her hand rested on his arm in what he assumed was a gesture of consolation.
He turned to Mary then and found her following his line of vision and biting her lip, which she did routinely when contemplating something of importance.
As if she could sense her cousin glaring at her, Rose shook herself out of her self-induced trance and changed the subject.
"Are you sure the breeze isn't too much for you, Mary? We will be picking up speed soon," she said.
"No, I'm sure I will be fine, Rose. My hair might not be, but I will," she quipped. Then she added in the same tone, "But should I be concerned that Mr. Haversmith has a lead foot? I'm afraid the only time I relish speed is when I'm atop a horse."
Rose's golden curls swung back and forth. "Oh, no, Mary. Smitty is an excellent driver, she said and flashed him a brilliant smile. "I assure you that you are in safe hands."
"But are you?" popped into Matthew's head from out of nowhere.
He had learned to pay attention to his inner voice a long time ago, having found it rarely steered him in the wrong direction.
Haversmith took his eyes off the road for a brief moment to return Rose's smile and the look on his face told Matthew that it hadn't this time either.
Good God, he's in love with her.