Bless the Bride

of food and toasts and champagne. I had always known that Daniel moved in society, but I was surprised at the number of distinguished people who were attending. Daniel introduced me to aldermen and members of the Four Hundred. Even Mr. John Wilkie, head of the Secret Service with whom Daniel had recently worked, had come up from Washington. Actually I had worked for him too, unbeknownst to my bridegroom!
    “So you’re giving up your profession, are you?” he said as he came to congratulate us. “I must say I’m disappointed. Such a waste of talent, Sullivan. I was hoping to recruit her.”
    “You’ll do no such thing,” Daniel said. “I am delighted I can finally stop worrying about her and know that she’s safely at home.”
    The reception line moved on. For a while I had felt like a stranger at my own wedding until I realized that I did know quite a few of the guests. There were several of Daniel’s fellow officers, including my friend and female detective Mrs. Goodwin. I was delighted to see old Miss Van Woekem, the distinguished lady who had taken me under her wing when I first arrived in New York. Sarah Lindley had come, looking rather pale and sad, but giving me a kiss and a brave smile. “It was for the best, wasn’t it?” she whispered to me. I nodded.
    And then I looked up as an amazing figure came flying toward me. It was Ryan O’Hare, wearing a floor-length black cape over a white suit.
    “You didn’t think I’d let the small matter of a lack of invitation keep me away, did you?” he asked, taking my hand and kissing it. “I’ve never been known to miss a good party in my life. Besides, I can see that this one needs livening up. I may give one of my recitations—‘The Boy Stood on the Burning Deck,’ perhaps?”
    I started to laugh. “Oh, Ryan, I’m so glad you’re here,” I said.
    If Daniel didn’t feel the same way, he was gracious enough not to say anything. As we moved through the crowd together I heard Daniel’s mother’s voice. “Yes, she is such a dear girl, isn’t she? I’m so lucky to be getting such a daughter-in-law.”
    After the toasts and the cutting of the cake the party slowed down as guests stood around the lawn in the balmy evening air.
    “Ah, so there you are, Mrs. Sullivan.” Mr. Wilkie came up to me. “Come for a stroll with me and show me those lovely rosebushes.”
    We walked across the lawn together.
    “You know, I can’t see you settling down to domestic bliss,” he said.
    “I’m going to have to learn how to,” I replied.
    He leaned closer to me. “When you come back from the honeymoon,” he said in a low voice, “there’s a little job I’d like you to do for me. Oh, and no need to mention it to Daniel.” He put his finger to his lips and moved back into the crowd, leaving me staring after him.
    “Ah, there you are,” Daniel called, coming toward me. “I thought you’d run away from me already.” He put his arm around my waist. “They all seem to be having a good time, don’t they?”
    I nodded. “Your mother has done a wonderful job. It’s magnificent, Daniel.”
    “Let’s leave them to it. I think it’s time you and I slipped away together, don’t you?” he murmured.
    He took my hand and led me back toward the house.

 
    HISTORICAL NOTE
     
    Everything I have written about Chinatown in 1903 is accurate, including Chuck Connors’s slumming tours, the overzealous missionaries, the opium dens, and the lack of Chinese women. Congress passed the Exclusion Act in 1884, hoping to drive those Chinese who had come for the Gold Rush and the building of the railways back to their homeland. The act decreed they could never become citizens, even if born here. They could not bring over their wives and families (certain rich merchants got around this). However, in the Census of 1900 there were over three thousand men living in Chinatown and only thirty women. Of course there could have been more women, including the small-foot wives hidden away, and there were definitely Chinese prostitutes in the brothels on the Bowery.
    In spite of the Chinese being sober and hardworking, they were universally mistrusted and considered to be a threat. Misconceptions about their customs and lifestyle continued well into the century, which is why Chinatowns have endured for so long.

 
    Also by Rhys Bowen
     
    The Molly Murphy Mysteries
     
    The Last Illusion
    In a Gilded Cage
    Tell Me, Pretty Maiden
    In Dublin’s Fair City
    Oh Danny Boy
    In