Victorian San Francisco Novellas

By M. Louisa Locke

This collection brings together three novellas by USA Today bestselling author, M. Louisa Locke: Violet Vanquishes a Villain, Kathleen Catches a Killer, and Dandy Delivers.These shorter works contain the light romance, humor, and suspense of the novels in her cozy Victorian San Francisco mystery series and are an excellent introduction to the gas-lit world of late 19th-century San Francisco.

 

Violet Vanquishes a Villain: In this novella set in August of 1880, Annie and Nate Dawson's trip down the San Francisco peninsula to San Jose was supposed to be a pleasant romantic interlude and a chance for Annie to get to know Nate's family better. When the visit takes a serious turn, Annie races to expose a criminal who could ruin a young man's life, getting help from an unexpected quarter. The events in Violet Vanquishes a Villain come right after Deadly Proof, the fourth book in Locke's Victorian San Francisco mystery series.

 

Kathleen Catches a Killer: As 1880 comes to a close, the O'Farrell Street boardinghouse servant, Kathleen Hennessey, expects to spend a quiet week while her employers, amateur sleuths Annie and Nate Dawson, are off spending the Christmas holidays with Nate's family. However, when she agrees to help out one of her friends, Kathleen discovers that a simple case of a servant being dismissed without notice has turned into a complicated and dangerous puzzle that she is determined to solve. The events in Kathleen Catches a Killer come right between those in Pilfered Promises and the third novella in this collection, Dandy Delivers.

 

Dandy Delivers: It's January, 1881, and while the grown-ups in Annie and Nate Dawson's San Francisco O'Farrell Street boardinghouse are busy with their own affairs, two boys and a dog find their own adventure. Ian Hennessey, a poor boy from South of Market, who is trying to shoulder a man's responsibilities, gets in trouble, and his best friend, Jamie Hewitt, does what he can to help. But it is Jamie's young Boston Terrier, Dandy, who saves the day.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M. Louisa Locke
• Release date: Nov 7, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386216476

M. Louisa Locke

M. Louisa Locke, a retired professor of U.S. and Women’s history, has embarked on a new career with her best-selling Victorian San Francisco Mystery series, which is based on Dr. Locke's doctoral research on late 19th century working women. Maids of Misfortune, the first in this series, features domestic service, and Uneasy Spirits, the sequel, explores women and 19th Spiritualism. Her third book, Bloody Lessons, focuses on teachers working in the San Francisco public schools in 1880. She has also written four short stories that are based on characters from the novels, and they can be found in this collection, Victorian San Francisco Stories. Her next book in the series, Deadly Proof, about women in the San Francisco printing industry, will be available early in 2015.Go to http://mlouisalocke.com/ for more about M. Louisa Locke and her work, including information about the historical research behind these books. Word of mouth is crucial for any author to succeed. Therefore, if you enjoyed Maids of Misfortune, please consider writing a review. Dr. Locke is on the Board of Directors for the Historical Fiction Authors Cooperative and an active member of the Alliance of Independent Authors.

Book preview

Victorian San Francisco Novellas

VICTORIAN SAN FRANCISCO NOVELLAS

M. LOUISA LOCKE

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2018 by Mary Louisa Locke

All rights reserved.

Cover design Copyright 2018 by Michelle Huffaker

All rights reserved.

CONTENTS

Introduction

Violet Vanquishes a Villain

Kathleen Catches a Killer

Dandy Delivers

Other Works by Author

About the Author

INTRODUCTION

When I wrote Violet Vanquishes a Villain, Kathleen Catches a Killer, and Dandy Delivers, the three novellas in this collection, my goal was to give major roles to minor characters from my Victorian San Francisco Mystery series.

As the author of historical mysteries, I am always faced with difficult decisions about how best to provide the historical detail that readers expect from good historical fiction, without slowing down the pacing that makes a good novel of mystery and suspense. This doesn’t even touch on the added complexity of providing my main characters the chance to experience the ups and downs of a romantic relationship within the covers of a single novel.

Consequently, what I often have to sacrifice in this balancing act is the amount of time my secondary characters get to spend on the page. In my mind, these characters have full lives, with complicated backstories and complex relationships, but they often have to be content with walk-on parts. In my short stories and these novellas, I have enjoyed the luxury of giving some of these characters starring roles in their own dramas.

The first novella in this current collection, Violet Vanquishes a Villain, is set in the week immediately after the events at the conclusion of Deadly Proof. Therefore, not to provide any spoilers, I would recommend that it be read after that novel.

The story takes place primarily outside of San Francisco––in San Jose––where my main protagonists, Annie and Nate Dawson, spend time with Nate’s family at their ranch. While this setting permitted me to develop more background on Nate’s parents and his brother Billy, my main intention in writing this novella was to flesh out Nate’s sister-in-law, Violet, a woman who I had only mentioned briefly in my other books––and then unfavorably.

When I first introduced Violet, my purpose was to create a character who would be a foil for Annie and Laura Dawson, Nate’s sister. I had modeled Annie and Laura on the kind of women who were active in the women’s rights movement of the late 19 th century. As such, they both are working to find satisfying careers and develop healthy romantic relationships with men who would see them as their partners rather than their inferiors and dependents.

Violet is much more traditional, clinging to the ideals of what historians of the 19 th century have called the Cult of Domesticity. While her conservative ideas about the proper behavior of women irritate both Laura and Annie, I wanted to explore exactly what motivated Violet as an individual. I was also interested in seeing what would happen if Violet needed help from someone like Annie, who she generally looked down on as unwomanly.

As you will see in Violet Vanquishes a Villain, Violet surprised me––as I hope she surprises you.

In Kathleen Catches a Killer, I wrote a story that had been bouncing around in my head for the last seven years, ever since the boardinghouse maid, Kathleen Hennessey, got to play a significant part in the investigations that occurred in Uneasy Spirits, the second novel of the series. Kathleen had such a good time in this earlier book that she often complains in subsequent stories about being stuck on the sidelines.

One of the realities about a live-in-servant’s life was that their work didn’t leave them much time for outside activities—like criminal investigations. However, servants often knew a good deal more about what was going on in the neighborhood than their masters and mistresses did (sharing gossip with the various tradesmen and delivery boys who came to the house, spending time with other domestics on their night’s out, etc.) This novella was my gift to Kathleen, giving her a mystery of her own to solve.

The purpose behind Dandy Delivers, the third novella in this series, was simple. Dandy, the Boston Terrier that lives in the O’Farrell Street boardinghouse, is one of my favorite characters. He already got to star in his own short story, Dandy Detects, and I wanted to give him another chance to shine. This story also let me explore the growing friendship between Dandy’s master, Jamie Hewitt, and Kathleen’s brother Ian, which I could only touch on in the longer novels.

All of these novellas can be read and enjoyed without having read any of the other works in the series. However, if you are one of those people who like to read series in chronological order, you might want consider waiting to read Kathleen Catches a Killer and Dandy Delivers until you have read Pilfered Promises because they are set in the two weeks immediately after the events in this full-length novel.

Now, however, I need to start thinking about adventures for some of my other minor characters. Mrs. Stein, the motherly boarder, and Beatrice O’Rourke and the young Irish maid Tilly, the other two servants in the O’Farrell Street boarding house, have become quite jealous and are clamoring for short stories or novellas of their own.

M. Louisa Locke

Violet Vanquishes a Villain

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Copyright © 2015 by Mary Louisa Locke

All rights reserved.

Cover design © 2015 Michelle Huffaker

All rights reserved.

CHAPTER 1

Sunday evening, August 8, 1880

San Francisco

Annie sighed contentedly and leaned against Nate as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. The cab took off at a gentle pace, and she thought she could still hear everyone shouting their good wishes as they pulled away from the boarding house, heading down O’Farrell to Market Street.

We aren’t too late, are we? Annie’d been afraid they would never get away from their well-wishers, but Nate’s best man made it clear to everyone that they needed to leave right at seven so they wouldn’t miss the last evening train from San Francisco to San Jose.

Don’t worry, love. Nate kissed the top of her head.

Everything had been such a whirlwind since their impromptu decision on Friday to get married immediately. This left them less than two days to let everyone know, get the license, find a justice of the peace to officiate, and pick out the two matching gold wedding bands, not to mention making all the decisions about what flowers to order, what to serve at the wedding dinner, and how many layers the wedding cake should have. Of course it was her faithful servants, Beatrice O’Rourke and Kathleen Hennessey, who did most of the actual work getting the boarding house ready for the ceremony and reception. Annie’s job had been primarily standing for fitting after fitting as Miss Minnie and Miss Millie Moffet, her elderly boarders, worked feverishly to finish her dress in time.

But all the hustle and bustle was worth it to be sitting here in a cab, alone, with Nate, looking forward to her first night as his lawfully wedded wife. If only they didn’t have the two-hour train trip to San Jose, plus the buggy ride to his parent’s ranch, and the inescapable social niceties with his family between now and then. Annie sighed again, not quite as contentedly.

What is it? Nate whispered with concern.

She snuggled closer. I’m being silly, but I sort of wish we weren’t taking off to see your parents tonight. It seemed preferable to staying at the boarding house, with everyone…well, you know what I mean…

Annie felt rather than heard Nate chuckle as he pulled her tighter. She traced the intricate flower pattern of her silk brocade, remembering the look in his eyes when she’d appeared at the top of the boarding house stairs a few hours ago. He’d been waiting below her on the landing, where the ceremony was to take place, and she thought for a moment he was going to forgo the whole ceremony and just carry her off to her…no their…bedroom.

The cab suddenly felt too warm, even though it was one of the usual chilly summer evenings of early August. She smiled, thinking about the summer night just over a year ago when she first rode in a cab with Nate Dawson. She’d only known him a few days, and he was escorting her home from a rather eventful St. Joseph’s Parish Masked Ball. Even then, she’d felt a disconcertingly strong attraction to a man who from the moment they first met alternated between insulting and rescuing her.

The cab swung to the left, revealing Market Street with its lit gas lamps stretching east towards the Bay. The Palace Hotel appeared on their right, the bay windows on all six of its upper floors glowing in the twilight.

Nate, he’s missed his turn. Annie pointed as the cab swept past Third Street, which would have taken them directly to the Townsend Street train depot.

Slight detour, he murmured in her ear, and the cab made two abrupt turns, first right onto New Montgomery Street and then left through the arch that led to the central courtyard of the Palace Hotel, a building she’d only ever seen from the outside.

What in heaven’s name… Annie gasped.

I didn’t relish spending my wedding night sharing my childhood bed at the ranch with my new bride, so I had Tim book us a suite here. You don’t mind, do you?

Oh Nate, not at all, but how extravagant!

Annie pretended to scold, but the relief that swept through her showed just how worried she’d been that the twin effects of exhaustion and a lack of privacy might…detract…from their first night together.

Nate helped her step down from the cab. Looking around the courtyard, enclosed on all four sides by balconies, she craned her head to take in the grandeur of this—the largest and most elegant hotel west of the Mississippi. The rows of five-globed chandeliers along every balcony created the illusion they were looking up through a swirl of starlight into the softly glowing glass dome that covered the courtyard and the seventh floor promenade.

Taking her hand and tucking it into his elbow, Nate gently led her through the entrance to the lobby, where they were forced to hesitate by a crowd of men in black formal evening clothes and elegantly attired women in jewel-toned gowns who were slowly moving over to a large staircase leading to the second floor. No doubt they were there to attend some banquet for one of the city’s wealthiest residents who lived year round in this hotel.

Annie had belonged to this level of society at one time, first as the daughter of Edward Stewart, successful San Francisco and New York city stock broker, then briefly as the wife of John Fuller, whose family’s fortune gave him entrance into the most exclusive homes in Manhattan. Then the loss of her own fortune and her husband’s suicide relegated her to the role of poor unpaid companion to John’s relatives. A miserable life from which she’d been rescued when she inherited the O’Farrell Street house and turned it into a boarding house, supplementing that income by becoming the exclusive clairvoyant, Madam Sibyl.

However, as Madam Sibyl’s clients, the men and women so glitteringly arrayed before her might come to her for business or domestic advice, but they would never see her as their equal. Her marriage to Nathaniel Dawson, an up-and-coming young San Francisco lawyer, could change all that. There’d even been a time in their courtship when he made the mistake of suggesting that a return to high society should be an incentive for her to marry him.

But Annie didn’t want to pay the price that returning to her former station in life would cost, which would be economic dependence on her husband. And Nate, one man in a million, wasn’t asking her to pay that price. But she was vain enough to be glad that her wedding ensemble––an ivory and blue silk brocade polonaise and blue-striped silk underskirt––was fine enough to permit her entrance into the highest level of society, including the Palace Hotel.

Annie glanced over at Nate, noticing that the slight backward tilt of his top hat and tailored evening clothes accentuated his lean height and that the blaze of gas-light made his dark brown eyes glitter. He frowned at the two men who were blocking their entrance into the lobby, giving him what she called his bird of prey look––the natural result of his beaked nose and high cheekbones.

She thought he was the handsomest man she’d ever met.

Suddenly impatient to have him to herself, she gestured to the liveried porter carrying their bags to push through the crowd and swept imperiously behind him into the lobby to start her new life, no longer as Annie Fuller, but as Annie Dawson.

Nate stood in front of the fireplace, seeing the candle-lit bedroom reflected in the ornate mirror over the mantel. The suite was all he’d imagined. Both this room and the parlor had fifteen-foot high ceilings, elegant silk wallpaper, thick Persian carpets, and polished mahogany furniture.

But the main reason he’d decided to spend the money on the most expensive hotel in the city was the four-poster bed that dominated the room behind him. The largest bed he’d ever seen, it required a small stool to reach the soft thick mattress, which was covered with silk linens and piled high with multiple pillows.

For nearly a year, he’d dreamed of that bed and having the woman who was splashing away in the adjoining bathroom lying beside him. Tonight his dreams were going to come true. But he was nervous.

So nervous he’d nicked himself shaving at the washstand tucked discretely in the corner of the bedroom. Although one of the apparent effects of having a Shawnee ancestor on his maternal side was that he didn’t have a lot of facial hair, he’d noticed that Annie was more enthusiastic about kissing him when he was clean shaven. Most of his life, he’d envied his younger brother Billy, whose luxuriant blond mustache and sideburns were clearly inherited from his father’s side of the family, until one evening when Annie rubbed her cheek against his and murmured how she thought men who sported facial hair were silly and affected.

Touching the spot of blood on his jaw, he savored that memory until a thought asserted itself…was it all men’s facial hair she disliked? Or was this one more example of Annie disliking anything she associated with her first husband?

Her first husband.

There it was…the source of his nervousness. Not that he worried Annie was harboring any feelings for John Fuller—except negative ones. By all accounts, the man had been a bounder and a fool who ruined her financially and nearly broke her spirit. But inevitably there would be comparisons. What if he failed to meet her expectations that he would be different…better…at marital relations than her deceased husband had been?

It wasn’t as if Nate was experienced in such matters. Of course he understood the basic physiology of the act, and he’d spent his college and university years listening closely to other men brag about their special techniques that were supposed to drive women wild. But as for practical experience…well…that was entirely different.

And Annie did have experience…with another man…and Nate assumed that at some point she’d thought she loved Fuller, and what if…

A knock on the door to the parlor interrupted this distressing thought, and Nate shrugged on the long, dark navy robe he’d bought weeks ago, knowing the old ratty one he’d had since law school wouldn’t do once he moved into Annie’s boarding house after marriage. Her maid, Kathleen, would have been scandalized beyond anything. He’d even splurged on a couple of new nightshirts, although he rather hoped Annie wouldn’t laugh at him the way his little sister did the few times she’d caught him in his night things. Laura’d led him to understand that his long legs were a surefire source of mirth to the opposite sex.

He opened the door to the parlor and let in the chambermaid who was delivering a tea service. She was the same handsome woman who’d told them to call her Colette when she opened the door of the suite to them earlier. She’d efficiently unpacked their trunks, drew a bath for Annie, and determined what they were planning on wearing in the morning before spiriting these clothes away to be pressed.

When Nate asked Annie what she wanted from room service, she replied with a smile, Just hot tea. I was too excited to eat any of the sumptuous buffet that Beatrice prepared for the wedding dinner, except for a slice of that lovely cake. But if you look in the wicker basket on the table, I think you will find she packed us a picnic of some of our favorites.

He’d briefly thought about pouring a stiff drink for himself from the cabinet the chambermaid had pointed out before leaving. While he’d never seen Annie imbibe even wine with a meal, she never objected when he took advantage of the whiskey she kept in the small parlor for Madam Sibyl’s male clients. But Mrs. Stein once mentioned that John Fuller was a drunkard, among other things. There it was again…the ghost of her dead husband hovering over their wedding night. Suddenly dry-mouthed with anxiety, he hastily poured himself a cup of tea and downed it with one gulp, burning his tongue.

I am sorry I took so long. I hope the tea hasn’t gone cold. Are we finally alone?

Nate turned to see Annie standing at the door between the bedroom and parlor, looking slightly damp around the edges. Her reddish gold hair was tied loosely in a knot at the top or her head, with a few wet tendrils curling around her adorable face, her cheeks and lips pink from the heat of the bath. The pale blue robe of thin silk she wore may have covered her from chin to bare toes, but the way it clung to her soft curves left very little to his imagination. Only the small ruffle of lace at the neckline and wrists revealed that there would indeed be a nightgown under the robe when he pulled the sash open…

Nate, don’t just stand there looking like a small boy with his nose pressed against the window of a candy store. Come here and kiss me…

Nate heard Annie’s low soft laughter as he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to that four-poster bed of his dreams, the tea and his fears completely forgotten.

CHAPTER 2

Monday morning, August 9, 1880

San Jose

The soft rhythmic swaying of the train on the tracks was putting Annie right to sleep. She wasn’t sure she’d ever felt such a languorous sense of well-being. She leaned back and closed her eyes as images from the past twenty-four hours followed one after another like the slides of a magic lantern show. Nate frowning slightly as he slipped the gold band on her finger, Beatrice flushed with pride as everyone exclaimed over the creamy frosting on the five-layered cake she’d made for the wedding, the look on Patrick McGee’s face when Kathleen caught the wedding bouquet, and Nate’s sister, Laura, waving from the front porch as the hansom cab drew away from the O’Farrell Street boarding house. Then more and more images of Nate. His face, a ghostly white above his dark robe, filled with trepidation and longing, the firelight on his bare skin, delineating each muscle of the arm that held him above her on the bed as he slowly unbuttoned her nightdress, the look of mingled shock and triumph in his eyes at the moment of consummation.

Later, his impish grin as he teased her for devouring the second beef sandwich when they got up at midnight and raided Beatrice’s picnic basket, the lock of his black hair that kept slipping down over his forehead as he told her the story of how Tim, his best man, had spent his own wedding night sharing a bed with two of his new brothers-in-law while his bride attended her sister’s lying-in, and, best of all, the way his mouth opened in complete surprise when she came and sat on his lap, and he discovered that the pleasures of his own wedding night were not yet over.

And finally, the vision of him lying in bed next to her this morning, as she watched him sleep and memorized every angle and plane of his face, the shape of his ear, and the way his impossibly long eyelashes rested against his cheeks, until those eyelashes parted and he turned over and smiled, reaching out to touch her face and sending a bolt of lightening through to her very core.

Annie shivered at this memory and reached out to take Nate’s hand, rather glad they were both gloved, because who knew what it would do to her if flesh met flesh? He smiled and, as if he could hear her thoughts, he looked furtively around at the other passengers and then swiftly pulled the edge of her glove down and kissed her bare wrist, causing her to gasp.

Annie, love, are you all right? You aren’t feeling any discomfort…I mean, last night I wasn’t too…

Annie squeezed his hand and said quickly, I am fine, Nate. It is just that the chambermaid, Collette, laced me a good deal tighter than Kathleen ever does. And I confess I may have eaten a tad more of that sumptuous breakfast than I should have.

Nate smiled with relief and said teasingly, I just hope you have room for my mother’s dinner. She believes that I was being starved by the cook at my old boarding house, so she always makes twice as much food when I come to visit.

I noticed that at Christmas. But I also noticed you didn’t have any trouble asking for seconds. I just hope she doesn’t expect me to make any of the meals. Not that I don’t mind helping out in the kitchen, but at Christmas, Violet seemed to think I would want to actually bake something. I mean, I can make a decent loaf of bread and do plain cooking, but that’s about all.

"Mother wouldn’t dream of asking you to prepare anything. She barely lets my sister Laura in