Actually, Brady had stolen those secret plans right out of Uncle Cornelius’s safe, only to have a change of heart at the very last minute. But as far as I knew, his bout of conscience had done little to endear him to Uncle Cornelius, who fired Brady from his position of clerk and ordered him never to show his face at the offices in New York, or at The Breakers, ever again.
I wanted to remind Brady of all that, and goodness knew he deserved his banishment. A quick glance at Nanny’s pursed lips told me she agreed. But he’d been through so much already and looked so vulnerable standing there in his dishabille and worrying his bottom lip, that I took pity on him.
“Maybe this is a good sign,” I said gently. “But why do you need me? I really don’t think Uncle Cornelius would appreciate me tagging along.”
He fisted his satin lapels as if hanging on for dear life. “I’m certainly not going alone.”
“Oh, really, Brady, you’ve nothing to fear,” I said with more confidence than I felt. “Besides, I have important things to do today.”
He swept farther into the room and sank onto a footstool, his dressing gown billowing dramatically around him. “More important than your brother?”
My resolve weakened a fraction. “It has to do with Consuelo.”
“Tell you what, then. You come with me, and then I’ll help you with whatever else you have to do today.” He leaned in closer, reaching for my hand. I reluctantly returned his grasp.
“Deal?”
I thought a moment. Having Brady along at Marble House could come in handy, especially when it came to examining the Cliff Walk for my mystery flower. “All right. I’ll come with you, although I highly doubt Uncle Cornelius will allow me to stay and hear whatever he has to say to you.”
As I spoke those last words, the telephone bell jingled, and I reclaimed my hand. “I’ll get it,” I said, coming to my feet.
On the other end of the line, Jesse greeted me quickly. “Good morning, Emma. I have some news I thought you’d be interested to hear. That wildflower of yours? It’s something we Islanders are all familiar with, so common we hardly notice it. Rugosa rose.”
I wrinkled my nose at the unfamiliar term. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“Well, no, most people wouldn’t know it by name. As I said, it’s so common as to be considered a weed. It grows along the cliffs, especially along Belleview Avenue, and is one of the few wildflowers that blossom throughout the summer.”
Images of the cliffs appeared in my mind. Not being a boater, it was a rare occasion for me to view the cliff faces. The beaches and my own rocky shoreline were far more familiar. “Can you tell me what the whole flower would look like?”
“Much brighter pink than the petals you brought us, of course, and with golden centers,” he said. “I’m afraid this might not be much use after all. We’ll look into it, but if rugosa roses are growing beyond the Marble House property, it’s likely your petals merely blew in with the wind.”
“Yes, I had the same thought.” I sighed. “Thank you, Jesse. I appreciate your letting me know.” After hanging up, I returned to the parlor to be practically accosted by Brady.
“Was that Cornelius? What did he want? You will come with me, won’t you, Em? Just to be somewhere in the house in case I need you.”
“You are such a child.” I picked up one of the tea roses and flung it at him. Nanny chuckled. “No, that wasn’t Uncle Cornelius, and yes, I’ll come with you.”
Apparently satisfied, Brady finally seemed to notice the candles, roses, cards, and other items strewn on the floor. He propped his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. “What have we here? Are we playing a game?”
“You’re so right, Emma.” Nanny huffed as she tugged her bulk out of the chair. “Such a child.”
“Em, we have to go—now! The old badger said nine-thirty sharp and I don’t dare be late!”
Despite Brady’s shouts from his perch on my rig, I lingered inside the house. “Nanny,” I said as she gave my hat a minor adjustment, “what were you going to tell me earlier about Amelia Beaumont?”
“Oh, yes, I’d forgotten with all of Brady’s hubbub.” She drew me farther away from the open front door as if to ensure our privacy from prying ears, not that Brady could have heard us or it would have mattered if he had. “Lady Amelia Beaumont hasn’t got two cents to rub together.”
“What? No!”
Nanny nodded sagely. “I’ve had it from Bonnie Preston, Mrs. Goelet’s housekeeper over at Ochre Court, who heard it from the family’s housekeeper in New York, who not only surmised it firsthand but conferred with Carrie Astor’s lady’s maid and Mrs. Frances Delafield’s personal secretary.”