A March to Remember by Anna Loan-Wilsey Page A

rejoined his son, Chester, and Sir Arthur, as had the reporter from the press gallery. Chester scowled as the reporter laughed at a joke I couldn’t hear.
    Who is that man? I wondered yet again.
    A tall, barrel-chested man I’d never seen before was also among the growing party. As soon as she reached the new arrival, Sarah wrapped both hands around his arm and pulled him in our direction. He rolled his wide-set brown eyes, but an indulgent smile spread across his clean-shaven face. Walter stretched out his arm toward the man who could only be Daniel Clayworth, and the two men heartily shook hands.
    â€œGood to see you again, Walter,” Daniel said. “Sarah says you were recently in St. Louis. I trust your mother is well?”
    â€œYou know our mother. She’s as sharp as a thistle and as strong as a prairie wind,” Sarah answered before Walter had the chance.
    â€œAnd your journey?”
    â€œA bit long but routine,” Walter said.
    â€œHappen to catch a Browns’ ball game while you were in St. Louis? I haven’t seen them play since they moved to the New Sportsman’s Park.”
    â€œEnough small talk, boys,” Sarah said, turning herself and Daniel slightly to face me. “This, Daniel, is Miss Hattie Davish.” Daniel tipped his head slightly.
    â€œPleased to meet you, Miss Davish,” he said. The smile on his face was refreshing among the somber Smiths.
    â€œAnd this, my dear Hattie, is Congressman Daniel Clayworth,” Walter added, “my esteemed brother-in-law.”
    â€œNice to meet you, Congressman,” I said.
    â€œNonsense, Hattie, you must call him Daniel,” Sarah insisted. Her husband glanced at her in surprise. Sarah recognized his questioning gaze. Walter and I locked eyes in the instant before Sarah leaned forward and said, “Darling, Miss Davish is—”
    â€œDaniel, have you met Sir Arthur Windom-Greene yet?” Walter said, cutting off his sister before she could reveal our secret. This was not how I would have Sir Arthur learn of our engagement. Sarah would have ample time on the ride home to Dupont Circle to inform her husband of her brother’s news.
    â€œI have,” Daniel said, as Walter led him toward the group of men.
    â€œNice to see you again, Dr. Grice,” Sir Arthur said, extending his hand to Walter when the two men approached. “Gentlemen, may I introduce Dr. Walter Grice, a good man to have on your side if ever you’re in a tight spot.”
    Sir Arthur smiled broadly as he lightheartedly referred to the Christmas we all had spent in Illinois when Walter and I helped clear Sir Arthur’s name of murder.
    After the round of introductions, Sarah’s husband joined the men’s discussion. Walter made his excuses and returned to us.
    â€œWalter, you cut me off.” His sister pouted. “I was about to tell Daniel—”
    â€œI know what you were about to do,” Walter said under his breath. “This is not the time nor the place to reveal such things publicly.”
    â€œOh,” Sarah said, looking about her guiltily. “Yes, of course, how indiscreet of me. Forgive me, Miss Davish.”
    â€œOf course. Thank you for understanding,” I said.
    â€œYou may tell Daniel later, at home, but certain parties here need to be told formally, if you understand me,” Walter said.
    â€œYou haven’t told Sir Arthur yet?” Sarah said, more astute than I would’ve given her credit.
    â€œWhat haven’t you told me yet?” Sir Arthur said. I nearly jumped as Sir Arthur with the reporter joined our group. “Something concerning you, Hattie?”
    â€œYes, sir,” I said. “Something that has only recently come up.”
    â€œWell?” Sir Arthur stared at me in slight impatience.
    â€œIt’s a personal matter, sir. May we speak of it in private?”
    â€œOf course, but first, some introductions are in order.