She was sure the bank wouldn’t make a loan for Milam. Charlotte knew prejudice still existed, even though it was a new century. She would secure the loan first and then tell Milam about her plan.

  It didn’t take long to get to the bank. There was smoke damage on the side of the building, but it didn’t appear to have sustained any other damage. She walked up the steps and pushed the door in. The sound of a bell signified her entrance.

  Tilde Richards was behind the counter. She looked up as Charlotte entered the bank. Charlotte took a deep breath and walked over to the counter, laying her envelope on the ledge.

  “Mrs. Daniels. How are you today?” she asked.

  “I’m doing fine, Mrs. Richards. It is lovely to see the restoration that is about to take place in the town.”

  “Yes, it is. Did you know we have a … oh what did Belle call him?” Tilde chewed on the end of her pencil for a moment, deep in thought. “A developer. That’s it.”

  “A developer? What on earth is that?”

  “I understand that is someone who is going to help rebuild Silverpines. All those businesses lost.”

  “It was tragic,” Charlotte agreed. She was here on business and there wouldn’t be any business if she spent her time chatting to Tilde Richards, no matter how nice she might be. “I was wondering if I might be able to speak to Mr. Richards? I have some business I wish to discuss.”

  “Of course, Mrs. Daniels. Let me get him for you.” Charlotte watched Tilde disappear into an office in the back and return a moment later with her husband, the bank manager.

  “Mrs. Daniels,” he said, extending his hand. “Tilde said you wanted to discuss some business.”

  “Yes, I do, Mr. Richards. I wish to discuss getting a loan.”

  Mr. Richard raised his eyebrow. He stood for a moment looking at her before extending his arm towards his office. “Please come in and let’s see what I can do for you.”

  Charlotte picked up her envelope and entered his office. It was small with a desk and two chairs, a filing cabinet but not much else. Charlotte sat in the first chair, nearest the door and opened her envelope.

  When Mr. Richards closed the door and sat at his desk, Charlotte got right to the point. “I would like to secure a loan to open a business here in Silverpines.”

  “What kind of business?”

  “I’d like to open a tea shop.”

  “A tea shop?” Mr. Richards let out a laugh that sounded like a bark. “What does Silverpines need with a tea shop? We are going to have to rebuild all those businesses that were lost. No, Mrs. Daniels, I don’t think Silverpines needs a tea shop.”

  “But if you just listen to me, Mr. Richards.” She unfolded the piece of paper that Odessa so succinctly captured her thoughts on from yesterday. “This business would also support several other businesses in town.”

  “Go on. I’m listening,” he said, putting his fingers up to his chin.

  “The tea could be purchased from the mercantile. Once it is back open for business. We could also serve herbal teas from Hattie’s apothecary. Plus, I know she is looking at getting some land to grow more herbs and fresh vegetables. We could purchase them from her.” Charlotte looked down at her notes again. “In addition, if the diner opens back up, we would support them by having our tea sandwiches come from them. If a bakery opens up in town, then that is where we would purchase our bread and cakes from.”

  Charlotte saw the sides of the paper start to crumple in her hands. She took a deep breath. “So, you see, Mr. Richards, this shop will actually support several other shops in town.”

  “Interesting premise, Mrs. Daniels, but do you think the town needs a tea shop?”

  “Absolutely! Some of my best memories with my friends have been over a pot of tea and a few cakes or sandwiches. There is fellowship and laughter. In fact, the shop could be used for more than tea. When we aren’t open it could be used for sewing circles or quilting bees. A place for women to gather that isn’t the church or someone’s sitting room; and businesses supporting other businesses is just what the town needs.”

  “Have you given any thought to where you might want to put the business?”

  “Well.” Charlotte thought for a moment. “I heard that Doc Childs wants to expand the clinic into a clinic and apothecary combined. So maybe the medical clinic might be a good place for it to be.”

  “If they are willing to sell.”

  “Or rent,” Charlotte countered. “I don’t need to buy the building. It belongs to Hattie. I could just rent it.”

  Mr. Richards leaned forward on his elbows and looked at her. “How much experience do you have running a shop like this?”

  “A shop, none. But I would entertain quite a deal in Boston.”

  “When did you leave Boston, Mrs. Daniels?”

  Charlotte swallowed. “About ten years ago.”

  “So, you’ve got no experience and you haven’t entertained like that in nearly ten years. I don’t think I will be able to help you, Mrs. Daniels. It is too great a risk.”

  “A risk? What does that mean?”

  “You are asking the bank to invest money…”

  “Loan me money.”

  “Alright. Loan you… money for a business that might not be viable. Plus securing a business for a woman is doubly risky. Do you have collateral? Do you have investments that can pay back the loan? How can we be sure that we will get paid back?”

  “So, you need collateral?”

  “Yes. Something that guarantees we get our money back should you default on the loan.”

  “But I don’t plan on defaulting.”

  “No one ever does, Mrs. Daniels.”

  “Well, I still have the undertaker’s office. And the coffin maker’s shop right next to it.” She bit the tip of her finger thinking of what else she might have. “I know Harris had some certificates with the Exchange in New York. We get something wired here once a year from that.”

  “Do you know how much that would be?”

  Charlotte opened her bank book. “The last deposit was last June.” She looked at Mr. Richards, and said sweetly, “I realize that was before you got here.” She flipped the pages in the small ledger. “It was for $4,832 and 46-cents.”

  “That is quite a sum. Why don’t you just purchase what you need yourself?”

  Charlotte lowered her voice, lest she be heard in the lobby. “Because, as you are aware, Mr. Richards, I lost most of my money to that cad this February.”

  “That’s right, Mrs. Daniels. It appears that you cannot keep your financial house in order.”

  Charlotte gave a gasp, raising her hand to her cheek in horror. “Mr. Richards, what an unkind thing to say. What would you suggest I do?”

  “I suggest you do what most of the women in this town are doing.”

  Charlotte looked at him, blinking rapidly trying to put together what he was saying. “You mean get married?” The thought of Will popped instantly into her mind, and she instantly shooed it away.

  “Yes. That way you have a man to manage your finances and you won’t find yourself in the same pickle again.”

  “I was married, but I don’t need to be married to start a business.”

  Mr. Richards sighed. “Yes. But it would make a better story for the underwriter.”

  “Underwriter?”

  “Yes. The one that will approve your loan if we submit the paperwork to him.”

  “That’s not you?”

  “Oh heavens no. I just gather all the information and make a recommendation. The underwriter has the final say.”

  “Oh.” Charlotte hoped he couldn’t hear the disappointment in her voice.

  Mr. Richards stood and walked around the desk to the door. “Mrs. Daniels, thank you for stopping by. My suggestion is to think this through a bit more and then come back and talk with us.”

  Charlotte nodded as she gathered up her papers and left the office. She passed a stranger entering the bank. She turned and looked at Tilde and her husband at the counter. He leaned over and whispered something in her ear and they both laughed. Charlotte felt her face go flush. Were they laughing at her?

  She quickly raced down the street towards home without stopping. She didn’t care that her curls were falling out of their pins and the hem of her dress was getting dirty from the mud that was still on the street. She just wanted to get away from the embarrassment of them laughing at her.

  Will would say that they could have been laughing at something completely unrelated to her conversation with Mr. Richards. But she knew better. They were laughing at an old woman and her dreams of an independent future.

  She’d find a way to do this without anyone’s help. She could do this on her own.

  Chapter 6

  Charlotte fretted about her discussion with Mr. Richards for the next two days. The conversation kept playing over and over in her mind. She asked Milam to keep visitors away, including Will.

  She couldn’t bear the sight of seeing him and the disappointment in his eyes when she told him why she was denied a loan. A man deserved to have someone that could at least manage her money!

  She was sitting in the sitting room when she heard Milam turn him away. Her heavy footsteps carried across the hard floors and stopped outside the sitting room. Milam knocked twice.

  “Go away. I’m busy,” Charlotte called to the closed door. Milam opened the door and peered inside. “I told you I’m busy!”

  Milam opened the door fully and walked right in to where Charlotte was sitting on the chaise scribbling in a notebook. “You ain’t doing nothin’ and you had me tell that young man to go away. What’s wrong with you, Miss Charlotte?”

  “I told you,” Charlotte said through clenched teeth, “I’m busy.”

  “You don’t look busy to me. You look like you are pouting. Did that Mr. Tuckering say something to offend you?”

  “No. It’s not that.”

  “Then what is it? He just left here like you took his favorite toy away. That man is good for you, Miss Charlotte. Don’t send him away like that.”

  “I’ll go see him tomorrow.” Milam gave her a sideways glare. “I promise.” Charlotte released the sigh she was holding. “I am trying to figure out what to do. I’ve gone over the figures. I’m still not sure how I can make it work.”

  “Make what work?”

  Charlotte looked up at Milam. She was 8 years younger than Charlotte but looked at least 10 years older. Her face was dark with deep red lips. The whites of her eyes contrasted with the deep brown of her irises and her skin. She was a slip of a thing, standing there with her hair done up in a scarf. But she had been with Charlotte for years and knew how to read her. Charlotte was always sensitive of the relationship between an employer and a house servant, and both she and Milam tried to keep that balance in the house.

  Perhaps it was time to upset the apple cart, so to speak?

  “I’m trying to find a way to start a business in town.”

  “You mean the café? You told me about that.”

  “Well, yes. I mean no. Yes, I was thinking of the café, but since that burned down it is going to take a while to get it back up and running. I thought about a little tea shop.”

  “You need to talk to Hattie then. She makes tea.

  “A tea shop would be a mighty fine addition to the town. What’s holding you back.”

  “Money. It is always money. I’m just trying to think of how I can get the money without having to go back to the bank.”

  Milam looked around. “How about sell this house?”

  “Sell the house? Where would we live? Tess and Hattie found the property they want to purchase, but there aren’t any houses on it.”

  Milam shook her shoulders. “There are all sorts of options. You could get an apartment in town. You could build a new house – they are building everywhere nowadays. You could purchase the land with the sale of this house and still have enough to build a house on that property.”

  Charlotte got up and gave Milam a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Milam, you are a genius! That is exactly what I’ll do.” She returned to the seat and scribbled some more into the notebook.

  “You need to go to bed soon, Miss Charlotte. It is getting late.”

  Charlotte nodded. “I am tired. I am going to finish up my thoughts and then I’ll head to bed.”

  “Good night then, Miss Charlotte,” she said leaving the room. Charlotte continued to write until she heard the clock chime, telling her she had been writing for nearly two hours.

  She closed her notebook and slid it in the side table drawer. She felt confident about the list she created and couldn’t wait to speak to Will about it in the morning.

  Funny, her first thought was to speak to Will instead of talking to Hattie or Tess. She was hoping he would be proud of her.

  She couldn’t recall Harris ever saying he was proud of her. She didn’t realize how much she desired the attention or reinforcement from someone telling her she had done a good job. For a moment she felt sadness at the thought of disrespecting her dead husband. No matter what occurred, in their marriage, he always made sure that she and Tess were provided for.

  Charlotte yawned and made her way to the kitchen. She could hear the sound of the spring peepers calling. That’s odd, she thought. Did Milam leave a window open.

  Entering the kitchen, she noticed the back door was open and a cup of hot liquid waited on the counter. Bless, Milam. She made me a cup of hot milk before bed. Charlotte popped her head outside but didn’t see Milam. Closing the door, she latched it and picked up the cup, carrying it upstairs to her room.

  The milk was very hot, the steam still rising from the porcelain as Charlotte sat it on her vanity and changed into her night slip.

  Returning to the vanity, she sat on the bench in front of it and removed the pins from her hair. Her blonde locks flowed down her back and she could sit on them if she was so inclined. She picked up her hair brush and started brushing out her hair, counting out loud as she ran the bristles through her locks.

  She counted to 50 and then put the brush down. The milk had cooled enough for her to take a sip. She noticed the milk was a light brown color, but it also had cinnamon sprinkled on top of it. Perhaps it was the herb lending its color to the drink?

  Charlotte took a sip. She could taste the cinnamon, but there was a hint of something else underneath, with a touch of sweetness. Milam must have added a teaspoon of sugar to the warm milk.

  She took a sip, and then another, followed by a gulp. She drained the cup in a few swallows and placed it back on the vanity. It was so good!

  She picked up the brush and counted to 50 again to complete her night-time routine. There was a warmth that overtook her, and she suddenly felt very flushed. As if her nightgown was too warm. She stood and quickly fell back, sitting down on the bench in front of her vanity. She tried to stand again, but her legs were like jelly.

  She looked in the mirror. Her reflection started to sway. Was she swaying? She lifted her hands to her cheeks, her arms feeling so heavy. Her cheeks felt rubbery and she pressed them around smooshing them into her face.

  Suddenly the taste hit her. It was a bitter taste that covered her tongue, her teeth and the inside of her mouth. The taste lingered on her palate. She felt as though she was floating.

  She managed to pull herself up and make it over to the bed, where she sank into the duvet. It had to be laudanum! But why would Milam do that to her? Perhaps she was afraid if Charlotte did sell the house there would be nowhere for her to go.

  Charlotte couldn’t get the distress that Milam might try to sabotage her recovery out of her thoughts. She’d have to tell Milam that it was inexcusable that she added that poison to the milk. But for now, she wanted to rest.

  She was so sleepy. Yes, talking to Milam could wait until tomorrow.

  She reached down and pulled the cover over her and drifted into a dreamless sleep. Her last thought before darkness took her over was of Will. She hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed in her.

  Charlotte woke up to her brain pounding in her skull. She opened her eyes and quickly closed them again, the light too bright for her condition. Her mouth tasted like tar.

  Moaning she pulled the covers up over her head and tried to wake up. She had her first decent night’s sleep since the fire, and it wasn’t because she took one of those pills Hattie gave her.

  She rolled over, pushed herself out of bed and attended to her morning ablutions. Then she sat at her vanity and started to pin up her hair. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and leaned in again in disbelief of what she saw. Her eyes were rimmed in red and her skin looked dull.

  She pressed her fingers against her cheek and watched the skin bounce under the pressure. It had to be laudanum that was in that milk.

  She couldn’t tell anyone she drank it. She put on her wrapper and grabbed the cup. She’d go down to the kitchen and quickly wash it before anyone was the wiser.

  She crept down the stairs, not seeing anyone as she made her way to the kitchen. The clock chimed ten o’clock. Tess and Dawson must have taken the children somewhere as she couldn’t hear the sound of the babies.

  She entered the kitchen and quickly rinsed the dish in the bucket of soapy water. She then set it aside to dry. She was just about to leave when a glass bottle caught her attention. It was nestled between two tins in which Milam stored bacon grease and flour.

  She picked up the bottle and noticed there wasn’t a label. The bottle was green glass and smooth in her hands. A small cork held the contents in place. She pulled off the cork and took a sniff of the dark liquid inside. It didn’t smell like laudanum.

  She put her finger against the top of the bottle and tipped it like she was getting perfume from a vial. A drop of reddish-brown liquid covered her finger. She touched her tongue to the substance and grimaced. It was the same substance as was in her milk the previous evening.

  She froze as she heard Dawson and Tess in the foyer speaking. There was nowhere to hide. Chiding herself she wondered, why should I hide in my own house?

  Tess’s footsteps approached the kitchen and Charlotte looked at the bottle in her hand. Quickly recorking it, she slipped the bottle into the pocket of her dressing gown just as Tess pushed open the door.