Read Online A Deceptive Homecoming by Anna Loan-Wilsey - Free Book Online Page B

burst into a squeal of delight. They all began speaking at once.
    â€œIsn’t this glorious, Miss Davish? A lake party!”
    â€œI heard Mr. Upchurch mention music and maybe even dancing!”
    â€œThe rumor is Mrs. Chaplin provided the drinks and they include champagne!”
    â€œI wish I had a beau to invite.”
    â€œWon’t the others be green? We get to ride with the guest of honor!” They stared at me as if I were Annie Oakley or the Princess of Wales. “What can you tell us about Mrs. Mayhew, Miss Davish?”
    With that the girls all quieted down, leaning forward in anticipation, hoping not to miss a word. I couldn’t help but smile. I was still baffled as to why this party was in my honor, but I was beginning to understand the appeal I had with the young students. How naïve I’d been taking the position of social secretary to one of the country’s most famous women. I’d never guessed that whatever she did was news, and that included hiring me. As Lady Phillippa had predicted, I’d be forever connected with the name, for better or worse.
    â€œWhat would you like to know?” I asked the girls.
    I spent the majority of the ride beguiling them with the extravagant world I was briefly a part of, the grandiose and gaudy Rose Mont, the “cottage” the Mayhews owned in Newport, the lavish garden parties with live peacocks wandering about, the hats that could cost me a month’s wages, and the ball that was attended by royalty. As they should be, being students at Mrs. Chaplin’s school, they were attentive to my every word, merely interjecting the occasional exclamation of disbelief. When I was through, I finally had the opportunity to ask them about themselves.
    â€œWhat do you intend to do after you graduate from Mrs. Chaplin’s?”
    To my astonishment, all three girls, in unison, answered, “Be a private secretary like you.”
    Of course, I couldn’t blame them after I’d spent almost a half hour telling them about the glamorous world of the Mayhew household. But I was unique. Girls who graduate from Mrs. Chaplin’s work as typists, stenographers, or if they’re especially adept, secretaries in offices, factories, or for the government. Few will become secretaries for wealthy individuals. I was extremely lucky to have met and impressed Sir Arthur Windom-Greene. Without his patronage, I wouldn’t be heading to a party held in my honor. But who was I to disillusion them? Our fortuitous arrival through the gates saved me from having to do so.
    â€œWe’re here!” one of the girls announced, sending the azure blue ribbon from the back of her hat flapping in the wind as she craned her neck out the window to see. I took the moment to look about me as well.
    I’d been to the lake a few times when I was a little girl. It used to be a quiet place to picnic and fish. But as the surrey approached I saw the area was now a full-fledged resort with two- and three-story hotels, dozens of cottages, and countless rustic cabins. The St. Joseph Boating Association had built an elaborate clubhouse with four round towers and a porch that encircled the entire building. There was now a small amusement park, as well as the Lake Shore Driving Park, which, one of the girls informed me, held horse racing.
    Has everything changed? I wondered.
    â€œMiss Davish is here,” someone shouted as our carriage pulled up to an enormous circular pavilion embellished with false dormer windows and a turret topped with a flagpole. The flag waved in the gentle breeze at least thirty feet above us.
    I was aghast to see over a hundred people, perhaps the full complement of Mrs. Chaplin’s school: students, instructors, former teachers, and their husbands. And at the forefront of them all was the man with the thick burnsides I’d seen comforting Ginny at the funeral.
    â€œWelcome, Miss Davish.” He offered his hand as I