Author's Note: The outside of Hester's house is similar to the Byers-Evans House in Denver. The interior descriptions are my own design, based on many historic houses I have toured.
Chapter 10
Sarah was in the parlor of the suite, on the morning of the fourth day in Denver, feeling at loose ends. Heath and Nick had left earlier for a livestock auction, followed by lunch. She was ready to go back to California, after all the troubles that had gone on since they'd arrived in Denver. Heath had almost fallen under a train on the day of the arrival, and then the next day had only been worse.
After the fight they'd had the night before, about that nasty beggar who was Heath's old friend, and the coat, she'd been woken up by Nick pounding on the door. He wanted Heath, and it had embarrassed Sarah that her brother-in-law was aware that Heath had not been with her. Nick's mention of the police had made her sick with fear that something had happened to Heath. The emotions, coming after a night of no sleep pushed her over the edge, and led to her hysterics.
She cringed as she relived the scene in the parlor, before Priscilla took her away, to calm her down. Later she and Heath had talked, and he'd been very apologetic about everything, which made her feel slightly better. Sarah still didn't understand about his connection to Logan Dawes, but then Heath never told her anything unless he absolutely had to.
"Good morning Sarah." Priscila's voice broke her reverie and she looked at her sister-in-law with interest. Normally the woman didn't make an appearance until almost noon, so Sarah was surprised to see her. She noted though how pale Priscilla looked, and Sarah wondered yet again if Priscilla was enceinte. Sarah knew that her life would be miserable if her fear was true.
"Good Morning Priscilla; what a pretty outfit." She replied to her sister-in-law's greeting, as she noted the clothes. The overdress was a dark cornflower blue silk, with the front of the skirt showing an underskirt of raspberry silk. The buttons, trim, and bows were all made from a silk plaid that combined the two colors. It was eye catching to say the least, and the hat only added interest with its plumes of the same colors.
Sarah was sure the dress was from London, where Priscilla's grandmother had purchased most of Priscilla's trousseau. The clothes were all beautiful, and well-made; her sister-in-law had let her examine one of the dresses. She could only imagine what it had all cost, and Sarah envied the dressmaker's purse who had been the recipient of the money.
"Thank you." Priscilla smiled happily, which offset the pallor of her skin. Sarah was curious as to why Priscilla was out of bed earlier than usual. She asked her sister-in-law what her plans for the day were, to find out the reason.
"I am going over to Hester's house, to make sure it is ready to be turned over to the new owners." When Priscilla answered, an idea came to Sarah. She'd always been fascinated by Hester, and how easily the woman could dominate any social setting. The chance to see how she lived was not something to be missed.
"Would you like some company? I really didn't have anything planned, and we could always go get lunch afterwards." Sarah hoped she wasn't coming off as too eager. It surprised her to see concern and almost shock on Priscilla's face.
"Of course that would be delightful." The reply was agreeable, but Sarah still had the feeling that Priscilla did not want her along. She was curious as to the reason, since her sister-in-law had never been anything but welcoming to her before. If it was anyone else Sarah would suspect an elicit rendezvous, but Priscilla was too upright and religious – not to mention passionately in love with Nick – to engage in that kind of behavior.
The drive over barely took five minutes, once they were in the carriage; in truth they could have walked there. Sarah recognized the street they were on, as the top echelon of Denver real estate. The mansions – and all the houses were mansions – were set back from the street with wrought iron fences ornamented with fine landscaping.
The Van DerHoffen house was smooth brick, glazed a rich brown and ornamented with a black wrought iron porch. The roof and its overhangs were black, while there were creamy plaster arches set into the brick, above the windows. The windows were large, and she could see off the side a five-sided two story structured attached to the house, that would provide sitting rooms with window seats.
"There is a lot of furniture here; what will you do with it all?" Sarah asked, having followed Priscilla through the initial walk through of the mansion. In truth Sarah was envious beyond words, at being able to enjoy such a sumptuous city dwelling. She compared this house to her house back home, that sat all by itself and was almost plain inside. It made her sad because she knew that Heath would never want to live in a place like this.
"Actually most of it is sold already, but some things have been held back." Priscilla turned to look at her, as they stood in the front entrance hall after walking through the house. "There are several very valuable pieces of French Ormolu furniture that I want for our bedroom at home. We are using the bed from Nick's old room, but the rest of the pieces just didn't work." She waved her hands in the air, as if Sarah should be able to understand the problem.
Sarah already knew how Victoria had turned over the grand master suite at the big house to Nick and Priscilla, opting for the slightly smaller room on the main floor. Both suites had their own water closet, but Sarah had discerned that Victoria was making her approval of Nick's marriage known, by turning over the main suite to the couple.
"Nick actually just wanted to sell everything, because he wants to be done with Hester." Priscilla gave her a direct look, and Sarah yet again admired Priscilla's grace towards Nick and her sister. Before she could ponder further, Priscilla's voice went on. "However, there are some nice pieces, especially the chandelier in the front hall." She gestured up towards the fixture that took up the entire hallway, being made of crystal balls the size of peaches and pendants of dazzling etched leaded crystal.
"Victoria has wanted a larger chandelier for the front hall at the house, and when I told her about this piece she was excited. It is from Venice." Priscilla went on to talk the province of the chandelier, but then moved on to the other plans she and Victoria seemed to have for the main house. Sarah listened to Priscilla's chatter and felt envious, at the bond the woman clearly shared with the matriarch.
Of course, Sarah reminded herself, she had been the one to hold back, from the few overtures her mother-in-law had made to her. Sarah rather suspected that Victoria had been careful in her approach because of Heath, and how he liked to run his life. She knew that he loved the Barkleys, but also had seen that there was a part of him that liked his own space. Even as she contemplated that she had a sad thought that his space wasn't always her space.
"The biggest help Sarah would be for you to go through the guest rooms – there are three – on the second floor. Honestly my only concern is anything of a personal nature; photographs, or something with a monogram." Priscilla detailed, and Sarah was rather disappointed not to get access to Hester's private chambers.
Not that she was sure why she really wanted to see the late woman's bedroom. All she could put it down to was the knowledge that Hester had aroused some deep seated – emotion or passion – in Heath. She knew that she was only going off of third hand information; yes Heath had told her his side of the affair, but after all men always rewrote events to make them look better.
Sarah knew that she dwelt too much on her husband's past affairs, but she could admit it was because she only heard about them from other people. If only Heath would talk to her directly, and tell her everything; then she could let it all go. However Heath wouldn't or couldn't seem to be able to do that. Of course it was hard for Heath to share any personal details of his life; she'd noticed that when they were courting and now wished she'd paid more attention to the trait.
Sarah went off in the direction of Priscilla's wave of her hand, climbing the stairs that had a polished banister of dark wood, carved in a motif of fruits and vegetables. The carpet on the stairs was an oriental design of gold, cream, and black. She entered the first guest room and noted that the décor was first rate, if heavy on brocade side with crimson drapes. She opened the drawers of the bureau, while noticing that it was newly made and not anything special. The gilded frames of the pictures on the wall were more interesting than the pastoral scenes shown.
The next room was smaller, but finer detailed with a sitting area that featured a chaise lounge and delicate side table. The theme was pink chintz, pink roses, and pink silk; in truth the last time Sarah had seen so much pink was Audra's wedding. Honestly, she mused to herself, what was it with society women and the color pink? Sarah turned her attention to the armoire on the side wall, but didn't find anything in the drawers that she carefully opened up. The desk was pretty and delicate, but on further inspection very impractical.
The third guest room had a different feel to it; neither masculine nor feminine in décor. The drapes and bedding were gold and blue striped damask, the rug an oriental with blues, creams, and browns. The furniture almost looked like it'd been culled from cast offs from other rooms. Sarah went with a methodical search through the room, leaving the armoire in the corner for last; it was heavy and made of a pale wood, taking up the whole corner of the room.
Her first surprise was when she tried to open the doors they seemed to be stuck, which puzzled her. There wasn't a lock on the door, and from what Sarah had experienced so far, Denver wasn't humid enough to suffer from wood expanding and getting stuck.
She took a step back and looked at the massive piece of furniture; it looked out of place in this room. However it had probably ended up here because of its size; maybe also because it had been badly constructed? The wood was fine, which she knew from Heath and his hobby of building things. Sarah though, as she looked closer saw that the seams and joints weren't well done at all. They did offset the elaborate floral carving, but she knew what Heath would say about the piece.
That thought caused her to try to get the doors to open, and she spent several minutes jiggling the brass knobs on the doors to no avail. She peered closer at the handles, wondering if they were just decorative; no they looked like they were supposed to open. Puzzled she tilted her head, and looked at the floral carving that decorated the door edges.
One of the flowers looked odd, as if it wasn't as well carved as the others. Sarah leaned in, and realized that the petals of the flowers were slightly worn. You would only notice it on close inspection, which made her wonder why it would be in that condition. Suddenly a memory came to her, of a book she'd read, about a hidden drawer in a desk. It could only be opened by pressing a carved medallion at the corner of the desk.
Sarah slowly reached her fingers out, and lightly at first, then with more pressure, touched the flower. It took several tries before she found the correct petal, but when she did Sarah heard a latch pop. The doors moved, and she was able to open them up easily. At first glance she saw some clothes hanging, and realized she needed more light. Sarah crossed the room and pulled open the heavy damask drapes, letting the sunlight in.
Now she could see that there were six evening dresses there, lavish with expensive trims but out of date by today's standards. Sarah's mouth watered, as she thought about how her mother could remake these dresses. They would sell for a great deal of money, and she wished she could take them with her. Her attention on the dresses though didn't last, as she looked down at the floor of the armoire and saw four hat boxes.
They were prettily decorated, and as she bent down to look at them Sarah recognized the name of the best hat maker in Denver. There were two boxes on the right, side by side; she opened them and was disappointed to see they were empty. Two other boxes were stacked on top of each other in the left corner, so Sarah reached in and pulled them to the front. The box on top was also empty, but the fourth one made up for what the other three had lacked.
On the top was an old fashioned hat, well-worn that took up most of the box; or so she thought until she lifted it out. Underneath was a brown leather book, and when Sarah glanced through the pages she saw that it was a business ledger of sorts. Each page had writing on one side – notes of business, and an accounting ledger with entries on the other. Sarah looked at the flyleaf, but didn't see any indication of whom it belonged to.
She looked in the box again, and saw an oilskin bag tied with waxed cords. Sarah had wondered why this box was heavier than the others, and when she lifted the bag out it was clear that that was the reason why. It took her several minutes to get the wax cords loose enough to untie, but when she saw what was inside Sarah's eyes went wide.
There was a plethora of gold and silver coins, along with paper money; it boggled her mind as she quickly estimated how much money was in the bag. Sarah put her hand in the bag, and felt the hardness of the metal coins against her skin. There was easily several thousand dollars, and she sat back on her heels, her mind thinking hard.
Clearly the money must belong to Hester; it was in her house, among her old clothes. Sarah was intrigued at how Hester – who had never struck her as a powerless wife – felt the need to hide money. Men of course owned everything and a smart woman always had some cash tucked away that her husband didn't know about.
She herself, who kept the books for the dressmaking business, had been skimming money off since the business was established. She never wanted to be in the same position her father had, with nothing left at all. Sarah though didn't really trust banks, so when she went to San Francisco she would convert the money into gold coins. They were hidden in a box, at the back of her drawer where she kept her female rags. She knew that Heath would never look in there, which is why she'd chosen it in the first place.
Her mind came back to the present, as she realized that the money now belonged to Priscilla, since she'd inherited everything from her sister. Sarah's eyes narrowed as she thought about Priscilla and the inheritance. Priscilla had given it all – and there was a lot of all – away to a bunch of orphans. The thought caused a grimace to come on her face, as she recalled yesterday.
They, she and Heath, along with Nick and Priscilla, had gone out to the Christian Brothers orphanage, northwest of Denver. It turned out to be a dairy farm and everyone but Sarah had enjoyed the day. Heath and Nick had spent time with the boys, as well as looking over the farm. Priscilla had spent her time with the Brothers, and playing with the children. For Sarah, who hated the country, and felt awkward around both clergy and children the day had been agony for her. She'd been force to pretend she was having a good time, especially since Heath kept on trying to include her in various activities.
No, Sarah mused to herself now; those orphans didn't need any more money. She knew that if she turned this money over to Priscilla, her sister-in-law would give it to the brats. Sarah smiled as she decided on a different course of action. There was enough money in the oilskin bag to set her up in style, if she ever decided to go it alone.
No more having to worry about the business failing, or having to rely on Heath – yes, he would support her but she would be stuck in their house all by herself. When Sarah had first heard about Priscilla giving all the money away she'd be horrified at the fact. Priscilla had inherited enough in her own right to be equal of the Barkley's, and Sarah couldn't fathom how someone would want to give up that standing. Sarah enjoyed a silent evil chuckle at the idea of Nick having to kowtow to Priscilla, but it didn't last.
Priscilla probably didn't want the money because of Nick and Hester's previous engagement. Sarah knew how she would feel about a woman if they'd been engaged to Heath; maybe Priscilla didn't feel as forgiving to her sister as she let on. Maybe Priscilla was enjoying the idea of giving the money away to some stupid charity. Therefore, did it really matter if the money went to a charity or Sarah?
Her glee at the idea of having the stash all to herself was soon dashed though, as she tried to figure out how to get it out of the house without her sister-in-law knowing. Sarah then remembered her first thought on opening the armoire, and with a satisfied smile left the room, after putting the contents back in the hat box and closing it up.
"Priscilla I -." Sarah entered the room where the guard downstairs had said her sister-in-law was, and was rendered speechless. The room was huge, with a gilt frame bed that rose to a gold crown at the top. Yards of white satin with gold trim flowed from the crown canopy; the same fabric was echoed at the windows. The furniture was as gilded as the bed, upholstered in more of the white satin. It was sumptuous and more regal than anything Sarah had ever seen; it was also very out of place in a Denver townhome. "Is this a queen's room?" She asked haltingly, her eyes darting around quickly; to make sure she didn't miss anything.
"Hester always thought she was the queen of everything, and this was her room, so I guess." Priscilla looked up from the desk where she was sorting through papers. "So yes, this is a queen's room." Her eyes danced with laughter; even as a wry expression crossed her face.
"My. It is something." Sarah wasn't sure what to say, but had no problem seeing Hester in this setting. She then remembered why she'd come in here, and hoped it would all go as planned. However, before she could launch into her planned spiel Priscilla stood up, holding two leather bound journals in her hands.
"Sarah, I know we talked about lunch, but I'm really tired. Would you mind if I beg off and go back to the hotel?" Her sister-in-law's eyes looked tired, and her skin pallor was even paler than earlier that morning.
"Not at all Priscilla; the altitude takes a great deal out of a person." She rushed to reassure her sister-in-law, giving her a plausible excuse. Sarah was happy to do it, because Priscilla leaving early would solve her dilemma, of the hat box. "I was going to say that I didn't find anything at all, but it looks like you did?" The journals in Priscilla's hands intrigued her; even as Sarah noted that they were different looking than the one upstairs.
"Oh, these are Hester's entertaining records. She kept track of every party she hosted, the theme, food served, and guests. Hester was an amazing hostess, and I thought I would take them for reference, in case I need some ideas." Priscilla answered, and Sarah recalled her mother had done the same thing, back before their world turned upside down. It came to her that she'd never entertained in her house, and probably couldn't do it credibly on her own. The idea of spending so much time on place settings and centerpieces held no appeal for her, but Sarah was careful not to say that out loud.
"Priscilla, I left my pelisse upstairs. If you want to go ahead, I'll go get my jacket, and then I need to run to the apothecary. I'm all out of the cream I use on my face." She decided though, to be on the safe side she would go to the apothecary around the corner from the hotel, and purchase some cream.
"Thank you." Priscilla looked relieved "I know you wanted lunch, but maybe another day?" It gratified her that she was making the other woman happy, even as she was furthering her own desires. Sarah knew that the guards would not think it odd if she walked out of the house in ten minutes, with a hat box. Priscilla, already leaving with the leather books would just help her plan.
Once Priscilla was gone, she waited several more minutes before heading downstairs, the hat box in her hand. She asked the guard to hail a taxi for her, explaining she had shopping to do, and; women all the time took hats to their dressmaker. The guard bowed with pleasure and Sarah tipped him nicely, which was very out of character for her. She hated how servants always had their hand out, wanting her coins, but now, as she felt the weight of the hatbox, Sarah could be generous.