“And twenty Morse Code sounders, a dozen sewing machines, and two telephone switchboards. The school’s owner opted to pay the teachers this month instead of the bill for the equipment.”

This must be the school Ludmila was attending in the evenings. The guards had been alerted that she would be returning home after ten o’clock three nights a week because she was learning to use a switchboard. He hadn’t realized Caroline was involved.

“Why isn’t the school paying its bills?”

“Because when threadbare women eager for classes come to the school, Petra enrolls them regardless of their ability to pay. She is an idealist who knows how to dream but not how to build.”

Caroline briefly outlined the problem. Their initial startup money had been spent on renovating a building. Donations helped but weren’t enough to pay the bills that came due every month, and they were now eighteen thousand dollars in the hole.

“How are you going to solve it?” he asked.

“I’m going to throw a party,” she said. “It’s the only thing I know how to do. I’ll invite a glittering crowd and hope they’ll pay a lot of money to attend. It won’t solve the problem, but it will help in the short-term.”

It sounded like a foolhardy plan, but it was Caroline’s problem, not his. He wished he didn’t know this about her. It would be easier to hold her at arm’s length if he thought her silly and shallow, but it was becoming hard not to admire her. He bent over to retrieve his sandwich, eager to get back to work.

“In case your brother plans another break-in at the White House, you should know I’ve ordered six more guards to patrol the residence on November 15th.”

He wouldn’t be caught off guard again.

Sixteen

Caroline was jumpy all day November 14th. She had no idea what was going to happen but suspected another midnight surprise. More artichokes? A serenade from the navy like Luke once arranged for an admiral’s daughter? Most of the staff knew a surprise was coming and had been asking her about it, but Caroline could only reply that she didn’t know what to expect.

“I had to order more food to feed those extra guards Mr. Trask hired,” the cook said. “He told me they’d be here for three days, so that’s a lot of food.”

“I hope they stay longer,” Betsy the kitchen maid said. “I don’t mind having six more handsome young men in the building.”

The police officers were different than Nathaniel’s men. Less stiff and more fun, they seemed happy to be there. They took turns walking the perimeter of the house, on the lookout for anyone trying to slip inside or leave something on the grounds.