Into the Whirlwind by Elizabeth Camden

Author:Elizabeth Camden [Camden, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC027050, FIC042030, Clock and watch industry—Fiction, Women-owned business enterprises—Fiction, FIC042040, Great Fire of Chicago Ill (1871)—Fiction
ISBN: 9781441261472
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2013-07-24T12:00:00+00:00

17

Mollie withdrew enough money from the bank to pay her debt to Mr. Durant. Although Sophie’s father had insisted the money was a gift, Mollie wanted the debt paid and went directly to Prairie Avenue after leaving Zack on the street corner. The loan would nag at her until it was repaid, and she wanted her memories of the church and everything associated with it scrubbed from her mind.

Mr. Durant was with Sophie when Mollie was shown into the lavish parlor of the Prairie Avenue mansion. Poised on the end of a brocade-covered settee, Mr. Durant held a tiny teacup in his large hand while Sophie served him from a silver teapot. Two porcelain dolls, with identical teacups before them, were propped on either side of him.

“Miss Knox, you are just in time to join us for tea.”

Mollie would rather drink a cup of lye, but it would be churlish to refuse. She lowered herself onto the settee. She could endure precisely ten minutes of Sophie’s company before spontaneous combustion was likely to strike her. There were only four place settings, so Sophie took a cup from a doll wearing an embroidered dress so elaborate it had probably taken a seamstress a month to stitch.

“You have to set your cup down after each sip,” Sophie ordered. “Otherwise it is tacky.”

Mr. Durant laughed a little nervously. “Now, Sophie, Miss Knox may have her own style of drinking tea.” He took a little sip of the tepid tea. “Tell us how the watch business is progressing,” he asked kindly.

Mollie related a few details of how the work was commencing. Alice and Ulysses had finished their designs for engraved cases commemorating the fire and had constructed the templates. Her metalworkers were once again making the tiny screws and springs that were needed in the body of the watches. They still lacked a few supplies for making the casements, and there wasn’t enough work for Declan and Old Gunner, who had been moved to help at the new construction site on East Street.

“I don’t like Old Gunner,” Sophie said. “He smells bad, like dirty cigars.”

Mr. Durant cleared his throat. “That isn’t polite, Sophie. If we can’t say something complimentary about someone, it is best not to mention anything at all. We discussed this last week and need to make improvements in our manners if we are going to be invited to the Johnstons’ again, right, pumpkin?”

Sophie kicked the leg of the table. “I don’t care if we don’t get invited again. I hate the Johnstons’ house. I want to go back and live at the church.”

Mollie would have preferred a bout of indigestion over another hour of Sophie’s company, but she forced a polite tone to her voice. “We aren’t living at the church anymore. The temporary barracks built by the city are now open. Alice and I are in the women’s barracks, and it is very crowded. I don’t think you would like it.”

Sophie’s face darkened. She bunched her legs close to her

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