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“Wish me luck! Maybe you could have Jimmy pray for me,” Sydney called back over her shoulder as she threw her leg over her bike and started pedaling for all she was worth.
It was three-twenty when she walked into the parlor for tea with her mother and the potential mother-in-law of the day. Her mother glared at her. “Ah, here is my daughter, Sydney Anne. She’s been volunteering at the orphanage.”
Sydney nodded, sliding demurely into the seat left for her. “I do apologize for my lateness. I simply lost track of time as I do often when I’m working with the children.”
“Sydney, this is Mrs. Sloan. She’s one of the Boston Sloans.”
Sydney smiled sweetly. Being one of the Boston Sloans must mean something, but Sydney had no idea who the woman was. Probably some banker’s wife with a son named something awful like Percival, who couldn’t find anyone to marry her uncoordinated unattractive son.
“It’s so good to meet you, Mrs. Sloan.”
“Tell me about your work at the orphanage,” Mrs. Sloan said. “I’ve always thought about volunteering with orphans, but instead, I just donate old clothes and things my family no longer needs.”
“Oh, working with the orphans is such fun!” Sydney said. “Today we were doing spring cleaning, and I had three boys I was supervising as they washed the outside of every window of the orphanage. Mrs. Anderson, the matron, always gives me the three worst behaved boys, because I can get them to do anything. I told the boys whoever washed the most windows without leaving any spots or streaks could ride my bicycle for fifteen minutes, and they all worked as hard as they could.”
Mrs. Sloan gaped at Sydney. “You ride a bicycle? In skirts?”
“I wear bloomers underneath my skirts,” Sydney said, refusing to back down though her mother was glaring at her.
“If you marry my Percival, you’ll have to act like a lady, and that would mean no more bloomers and no more bicycles.” From the look in Mrs. Sloan’s eyes, Sydney was certain the woman would do something drastic if she wasn’t an obedient daughter-in-law. And Sydney had no doubt she would be incapable to obeying the woman.
Sydney tried not to laugh when the man’s name really was Percival. “Oh, is that a requirement? I must withdraw my application then.”
“Application? This isn’t a job you’re interviewing for!” Mrs. Sloan glared at her, and then looked at her mother as if to find an ally there.
“Feels like it,” Sydney said, getting to her feet. “Don’t worry, Mother. I’ll see myself out.” With that, Sydney went through the kitchen to the side exit of the house. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
Mrs. Sanders, the cook, shook her head. “Oh, you’ve made your mother mad again, haven’t you?”
“See you soon!” Sydney felt a twinge of guilt, knowing the servants would be the ones to have to deal with her mother’s wrath.
Sydney walked down the street and once again stared up at the Tandy house. Mrs. Tandy sent women to be mail-order brides out west. Even though the west wasn’t really known as wild any longer, she knew that many women in the west did real work and didn’t flaunt themselves in their very finest every evening trying to make their husbands look better.
She had no desire to marry a stranger, but the idea wasn’t as abhorrent as marrying a man who would expect her to be a part of society like her mother did. No, she would instead go to Mrs. Tandy and see if she’d find her a husband. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about her mother parading her in front of every suitor from Boston to New York.
Before she lost her nerve, she marched straight up to the house and knocked loudly. It only took a moment for Mr. Tandy to come to the door. He looked surprised to see her but smiled after a moment. “Miss Weatherby, how can I help you today?”
When the Tandys had married, her mother had seen it as terribly scandalous. She didn’t feel a woman like Elizabeth should marry her butler. No, in her mother’s mind, no one should marry their butler. Though she’d been too young to marry herself, Sydney had silently cheered the couple on.
“Would it be all right if I talked to Mrs. Tandy? My business is of a personal nature.” Still wearing the clothes her mother approved of, she felt as if she had to display some semblance of manners. She was going to get an earful when she got home already.
“Of course. Come in.” Mr. Tandy gave her a knowing look, and she realized he knew what her business was about. Everyone knew how difficult her mother was, and how progressive Sydney’s ideas were. No, he’d understand perfectly.
She followed him down the hall to the last door on the left, which was open, and a blond woman sat at a desk where she was reading something. “Elizabeth? You have a visitor,” Mr. Tandy said.
Mrs. Tandy turned to her for a moment, and then smiled. “Come in. Have a seat and tell me what’s happening.” The two of them had a passing acquaintance, but Mrs. Tandy was different than most of the women who lived on Rock Creek Road, in that she was raised a poor woman, and had become a businesswoman through an act of benevolence.
Sydney moved to the sofa, while Mr. Tandy said he would get tea for them. Sydney wanted to tell the man she was chockful of tea and good manners, but she restrained herself.
“My mother is determined for me to marry a man with a high place in society. I’m determined to wear bloomers in public and ride my bicycle wherever I please. One of us is going to end up miserable, and as it’s my life, I’d rather it wasn’t me.”
Mrs. Tandy nodded. “So, you’re considering becoming a mail-order bride and would like me to assist you?”
“Exactly.” Sydney couldn’t back down now. She had to go through with it or let her mother have her way, in which case she may as well jump off the tallest building in town. No man with a high place in society would ever allow his wife to go about in bloomers.
“I just received this letter. Now the man sending it hasn’t been as thoroughly investigated as usual, but my husband has placed some telegrams and gotten a good response. Would you like to read the letter?”
Sydney nodded, anxious to see what kind of man Elizabeth saw for her. “I would.”
