Page 65 of Because I Could Not Stop for Death

I laid Matthew’s coat across my lap and threaded my needle. I had been right; the navy thread was a perfect match.

I flipped the coat over and looked for the tear in the sleeve. It was in the right sleeve just a few inches up from the cuff. I stared at it with a sinking heart. Hadn’t Miss Abigail said that one of the men who was meeting with Mr.Johnson at her inn was younger and had a tear in his right sleeve in that exact spot?

I shook my head. I knew that I couldn’t be right about this. It was just a coincidence. And who is to say that Miss Abigail’s description was accurate? She said they were there when the tearoom was busy. She was the only person waiting on the tables. It was very possible that she remembered the details incorrectly. It could have been the old man with the tear on his sleeve, or maybe the tear was on the young man’s left arm. She was frazzled; she could have misspoken.

But in my heart I knew that wasn’t the case. Matthew, my Matthew, was one of the two men who met with Mr.Johnson. This meant that he wasn’t here to investigate Mr.Johnson or find my brother’s killer. Instead, he just might be helping him.

Chapter Twenty-Five

I helped the Dickinson sisters prepare for the dinner party. Both of them wore the finest dresses they brought with them to Washington. Emily’s emerald ball gown offset the red in her hair. Her dark eyes sparkled as if she knew how lovely she was. Around her wrist there was a black velvet satchel that matched the black velvet ribbon in her hair. She smiled at me when she saw me admiring the satchel. “I do like the black velvet, but the most important detail is it is just big enough for paper and pencil. I’m sure I will meet some very interesting people tonight, and I want to jot them down. You never know what can be amusing for a letter to friends back home.”

I smiled. “Then that satchel is not only fashionable but practical.”

“Emily, are you ready?” Miss Lavinia came into the parlor. She wore a royal blue ball gown that looked as lovely on her as Emily did in hers. She didn’t carry a satchel. I supposed that was because she didn’t need paper and pencil wherever she went. Instead around her wrist there was a piece of fine lace. I guessed that it came from another dress at some point.

Before my realization over Matthew’s coat sleeve, I had wanted to accompany them to the dinner party. What would it be like to be in the room with all those witty and intelligent people and their varied conversations? Just to be around a group like that would have to lend itself to making the listener wittier and more intelligent.

Miss Lavinia frowned at me. “I hope that you will stay here and out of trouble for the night. We don’t need any more episodes from you.”

“Vinnie, that is not fair. Willa didn’t have an episode,” Emily said.

Miss Lavinia eyed her sister. “She tore the wardrobe apart.”

“Making a mess is not an episode. You’re as bad as Mother’s doctor who labels her days when she can’t get out of bed as episodes. Don’t you just think that makes it worse for her?”

Miss Lavinia huffed. “I wasn’t talking about Mother. There is no point in talking about any of this now. We have to go. Father wants us there to greet the guests.”

“Of course he does,” Emily muttered. “Sister, do you ever feel like we are supposed to be dolls on display for our father’s guests? We’re there to make witty conversation and amuse old men who are embittered by years in politics.”

Miss Lavinia arched her brow. “That is a very dark perspective on the evening. Maybe it is just a dinner party to celebrate Father’s time in Congress. Why does it have to be anything other than that?”

Emily looked like she wanted to retort, but Miss Lavinia was faster. “Besides, Father would never see you, Sister, as just a doll. You’ve always pushed back too much.”

Emily grinned. “Well, that’s a relief.”

Miss Lavinia put her hands on her hips. Because she had so many petticoats under her blue skirt, her stances seemed even more formidable. “Now, can we please leave?”

“I’ve been waiting for you all this time,” Emily said.

Miss Lavinia threw up her arms.

Emily smiled, and then she turned to me. “Enjoy a night off, Willa. There are a few more books in my room. You’re welcome to them.”

I smiled and wondered if she had a volume with her that I would like as much as Jane Eyre.

There was a knock on the door, and Mr.Dickinson came into the room. “Emily and Lavinia, it’s time to go down and greet our guests. Remember that tonight you’re not only representing your family but the entire Commonwealth of Massachusetts. I trust there won’t be any embarrassing missteps.” He gave Emily a meaningful look.

Emily pressed her lips together. I guessed that she wanted to say something in return to her father but thought better of it.

Mr.Dickinson left the room, and the sisters followed him out. No one so much as looked back at me.

As much as I wanted to read another of Emily’s books, Henry’s diary was so much more pressing. I let out a breath as I put away the sisters’ discarded ribbons and packages from their ribbon shopping trip earlier in the day. I had to search for the diary, and the time while the family was at the dinner party was my best chance. I bit my lip. As far as I knew, the only people who had been in our rooms were the five members of the Dickinson family and the hotel staff.

I couldn’t for the life of me think of why a member of the staff would want to take the diary. There were so many more valuable things in our rooms to steal. Both the Dickinson sisters had a piece or two of fine jewelry and nice fans. They weren’t much compared to what I had seen on many of the women in the city who seemed to be dripping with jewels, but they would still get a good price with a dealer who was willing to buy without asking too many questions.

I walked to the closed bedroom door and hesitated. I would be a fool not to think that the most likely person to take the diary was Emily or Miss Lavinia. This might be my only chance to search their things.

I opened the door. The bed had a white lace duvet over it with lace-lined pillows leaning against the ironwork headboard. The floor was covered with an ivy-patterned carpet of greens and creams. Those colors were mirrored in the wallpaper, which also had an ivy pattern, but in between the leaves were roses with blossoms in full bloom larger than my hand.

---