Page 16 of A New World for the Irish Daughter

“More like it’s early,” Brendan replied with a small quirk of his lips, as he glanced toward the window over the landing, sunlight streaming through its dusty panes. “But never mind me,youshould sleep, Maggie. You’ve had a long night.”

For a second, Maggie thought he would embrace her again, or maybe press his hand against her cheek, the way she had against his. She craved his touch, and with a lurch of hope, she thought she saw his hand twitch, as if he were about to raise it, and everything in her stilled. Then the moment passed, and with a shake of his head, he turned back to his own bedroom.

Maggie stood there for a moment, swaying with exhaustion, her mind a numb blank, before wearily she turned and went to her own room. Evie didn’t even stir as Maggie crept into the room. She was still in her nightgown, and she saw it had rust-colored smears of Jenny’s blood down the front. She didn’t haveanother to change into, so she simply crawled into bed as she was, drawing the covers over and squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

Memories tumbled through her mind in an unholy kaleidoscope of images—Jenny’s bloody skirts, the other girls’ anxious faces. Dr. Brown bent over her body, intent on her gruesome task. Jessamine, barely looking at Jenny as she came into the room with the hot water and sheets, her expression stony. A basin of bloody rags.

A choked cry escaped her, and Maggie pressed her fist to her lips. She didn’t even know who or what she was crying for—for Jenny, for her dead baby, for the other girls, and so many more like them, trapped in an utterly hopeless situation that was gilded with gaiety and pleasure, like the flaking gold paint on a cheap bauble.

She ached for herself, too, for the unforeseen vagaries of her own life, and the seemingly capricious hand of Providence that had kept her from such a fate as these girls had, if only just. She was grateful she’d been spared, but she was so very heartsick, as well, wishing there was some way to make a difference to the relentless tide of cruelty and suffering she saw in the world.

She must have fallen asleep, for what seemed like mere moments later, Evie was shaking her awake, and the room was stifling with the heat of mid-morning.

“Wake up, you slugabed,” the girl said in her sullen way. “You’d better come quick as you can. Miss Jessie’s askin’ for you.”

CHAPTER 10

“Ah, Maggie.”

Jessamine sat behind her desk, her hands folded in front of her, her expression, Maggie feared, far too flinty.

“You wanted to see me?” Maggie asked, a little breathlessly. After Evie had woken her, she’d stumbled from bed, rushing to wash her face and tidy her hair before dressing quickly and hurrying downstairs. She’d checked on Jenny briefly, glad to see the girl was still asleep, before coming to find Miss Jessie in her study, looking decidedly displeased.

“Close the door behind you, please,” Jessamine said briskly, and Maggie obeyed before perching on the chair in front of the desk.

Her mind was racing, trying to ascertain the madam’s mood, as well as what she might possibly want. What had she done wrong? Was it to do with Jenny? Maggie felt it had to be, she couldn’t imagine what else she might have done, but she could see from the expression on Jessamine’s face that she was out of favor.

“It has come to my attention,” she told Maggie, her gaze level and her voice cool, “that you have not been paying room and board since your arrival.”

Maggie’s mouth dropped open and she snapped it shut. It had come to her attention? She hadofferedit. “I… I thought our arrangement was room and board in return for the work I do here, sewing and darning?” she replied, only a little unsteadily. She feared what might be coming next.

“I could charge eight dollars a week for bed and board here,” Miss Jessie replied curtly. “And an hour or two of sewing a day is worth a fraction of that, as you must realize. As I’ve told you before, I’m not acharity. I can’t afford to be.”

Maggie bit her lip to keep from saying something precipitous and almost certainly unhelpful. She didn’t know what the going rates in San Francisco were, but she doubted a shared room in the attic of a brothel went foreightdollars a week, no matter what Miss Jessie had just said. Pointing that out, however, she knew, would do her no favors, and right now she needed that room. She didn’t have the money for any other.

“Are you asking me to pay rent?” she asked at last, glad her voice was as level as Miss Jessie’s. She met the other woman’s gaze squarely, refusing to be intimidated by her imperious manner. Jessamine Conanthadbeen generous, Maggie acknowledged, but her generosity, it seemed, had its limits. Was it because Maggie had guessed about Evie? Could Miss Jessie be that spiteful?

While she’d told herself not to depend on the madam’s generosity, she now feared she would not have that luxury.

“I am willing to offer you a rate of six dollars a week,” Miss Jessie informed her, “in exchange for your mending. And the same goes for your father and brother, which is more than generous, considering how littletheydo around here.” Her mouth twisted derisively; clearly she no longer harbored a sentimental tenderness for her father, Maggie thought on a silent sigh. Why the change of heart? Was it because of Evie… or something else?

“And Mr. O’Donaghue?” she asked.

Miss Jessie lifted her chin a notch. “Brendan can continue as he has been, doing odd jobs as I ask him, for he’s made himself very useful. Very useful indeed. I’ve offered him a salary of ten dollars a week, in addition to room and board, and he was glad to accept.”

She smiled, her eyes glinting with an almost malevolent triumph that Maggie had never glimpsed in the other woman before, and her stomach cramped with a hot surge of an emotion she knew was jealousy. Did Jessamine haveromanticdesigns on Brendan? Wasthatwhy she was kicking Maggie out—her competition? If she did, it came as no surprise that he’d rejectedherlast night. And then he’d accepted a salary here, while knowing Miss Jessie’s ultimatum would force her and her family out on the street?

Maggie swallowed down the acidic tang of bile as she forced back the futile feelings of jealousy and hurt. She had far more serious matters to worry about, for what on earth was she going to do now? She couldn’t afford six dollars a week for room and board, and if she was doing several hours of mending every day, she could hardly get a job that would allow her to. As for her father and brother… were they making any money at all? Her father surely wasn’t, and she didn’t know the nature of Danny’s doings, never mind what he actually earned. Eighteen dollars between the three of them… it was practically criminal, which was surely what Jessamine intended. For whatever reason she wanted, Maggie knew, for them to leave.

“Is this because of Evie?” she asked quietly. “I won’t tell anyone?—”

“This has nothing to do with Evie,” Jessamine replied shortly, her eyes flashing with ill-disguised ire. “It’s simply a matter of economics. I cannot afford to keep you and your familyhere out of the goodness of my heart.” Her mouth tightened and her eyes flashed. “I hope you’ll understand.”

Maggie stared at her, knowing there was no real response she could make. She couldn’t expect charity from Miss Jessie, and, in truth, she didn’t even want it. She’d told Brendan their situation wasn’t sustainable, and she’d meant it, except… it seemed his now was.

“Very well,” she finally said with as much dignity as she could muster. “I’ll need to talk to my brother and father. I… I imagine we will have to find other arrangements.” She swallowed hard, hating to ask for favors but knowing she had no choice. “If you could give us a few days…”

“You can have a week,” Miss Jessie replied, unsmiling.