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Raven needed to get into that room. “When was the last time it was cleaned?”
Her response was a shrug. “I’ve no idea. A few months ago maybe. Dahlia handled the cleaning.”
“I don’t mean to be disrespectful but have you had it checked for vermin?”
Mrs. Stipe startled.
“If mice have somehow gotten in, keeping the room closed up gives them a nice place to stay and multiply. How long has it been since your husband used it?”
“Six or seven months. When he’s in town he stops by just long enough to make sure I’m still alive to write the bank drafts that support him, but he sleeps elsewhere.”
Raven glanced over at the locked door. “Just to be safe, I should go in and check for vermin. You don’t want rats sharing this lovely house with you.”
“I suppose you’re right. We’ll talk about it after the ball.”
“Ball?”
“The one I throw every year to benefit Charleston’s chapter of the Daughters of the Cause. We’re raising money to put up statues of heroes like General Lee and the great Stonewall Jackson. Chapters all across the South are doing the same. It’ll be our way of commemorating the bravery and sacrifices of the men who fought to preserve our way of life.”
“And yours is held when and where?”
“It’s held here, of course, in about three weeks.”
“And what are my expected duties?”
“To make sure everything runs smoothly.”
Another detail missing from Welch’s intelligence gathering. “How many guests do you usually entertain?”
“Fifteen, maybe twenty. I only invite those wealthy enough to contribute.”
“I see.”
“Dahlia usually handled all the fine detailslike bringing in extra servants and cooks. Since you have no roots here, I’ll have my sister’s housekeeper, Eula, lend a hand. She’s been with our family all her life, and remained loyal after the surrender, unlike so many of the other ungrateful wretches who ran off and left us to fend for ourselves.”
Raven detested the idea of her search being delayed so she could help raise funds for monuments to men who’d wanted to keep the race enslaved, but she kept the disdain from showing on her face. “I look forward to helping,” she lied.
Mrs. Stipe smiled. “Good. It’s always such an elegant affair. We bring out our hoop dresses and our best jewelry. It’s an evening to celebrate what we lost when everyone knew their place.”
“I’m sure it will be memorable, but you don’t want it to be remembered for any mice that come uninvited, so you should let me clean your husband’s room.”
Mrs. Stipe sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Constance Manning is always looking for ways to outdo me, and she’d never let anyone forget it if something like that happened. I’ll get you the key later.”
“Thank you.” Raven didn’t know who Constance Manning was nor did she care, but applauded the woman for being the means to an end. With any luck, the stolen item would be in the husband’s room and Raven and Steele would be gone before the ball.
After the tour, they set out for the market. Mrs. Stipe directed the way from her seat in the back, while Steele drove with Raven seated beside him on the bench. Once they arrived, Mrs. Stipe remained in the carriage while Raven and Steele meandered their way through the maze of vendors and shoppers to purchase the staples the household needed. They bought sweet potatoes, rice, honey, candles, and yeast. She and Steele were new faces to the women selling the merchandise and were met with smiles and questions about who they were and who they worked for. Some of the women, most of whom were Black, offered the names and locations of their churches, the best doctor in the area, the best seamstress, and the maker of the best Sunday hats. A few of the women flirted outrageously with Steele in a good-natured way that left everyone within earshot laughing when a few told him to keep them in mind if his wife ever kicked him out.
As they continued on their way, Raven stopped for a moment at a stall selling scented soap. She picked up a bar, and it smelled like heaven. She asked the woman at the table, “What is this scent?”
The woman smiled. “Noisette roses.”
“Thank you. It smells wonderful.”
Steele asked, “Would you like it?”
Raven set the soap back in the basket. “Iwould, but I don’t have the coin and I don’t think our employer wants me buying soap for myself with hers.”
He picked up the bar and asked the lady, “How much, ma’am?”
