by Lisa Prysock
“Yes, Papa’s reactions reminded me of that very thought during my ordeal. I believe it was a test of my faith and character, and something Papa needed to propel him to allow me to come to America,” Geneva added. “Father used to quote Spurgeon from the pulpit on Sunday mornings now and then: ‘The tears of affliction are often needed to keep the eye of faith bright.’”
“Indeed!” Aunt Millicent agreed with an approving nod as she sipped her tea. She looked as though she had a hundred questions to ask about her brother.
At the same time, Ridge Morgan seemed to contemplate the quote, a faraway look in his eyes for the briefest of moments as he remarked, “I’ve always wanted to hear Charles Spurgeon preach.”
“Our newspapers bring reports of him here in the south. I believe your mother, Rachel, wrote to me and said you had an opportunity to hear him in London with your friends. Did you enjoy the event?” Aunt Millie inquired.
“We did! ‘Twas an event profoundly affecting each of us, but myself in particular. I shall tell you of our experience one day. ‘Tis a story for another time!” Eager to put the past firmly behind her for the moment and find answers to the questions about her new surroundings swirling in her head, Geneva decided it best to change the subject. “Where are your students? I saw the sign for the school as we entered the gates. I don’t remember seeing any children when we arrived.”
“Your niece is very observant,” Ridge interjected. “I was just thinking it seems so quiet without the students here.”
“Ridge is missing his daughter, Belle-Raine. She attends our school,” Millie explained.
“Oh, I see,” Geneva glanced at Ridge. “What a lovely name, Belle-Raine…”
“As to where the students are at present,” Millie continued, “Some have returned home for the spring break. About half of our students do not have parents. As such, they are sponsored to attend the school by some of my connections, or… in some cases, my own funds. Those who have no parents, I sent on a trip to discover New York City. I was hoping we could carve out this particular time during their absence to get to know each other better.”
“How wonderful! I’m very glad to have some time to get to know you better,” Geneva admitted. Turning to Ridge, “And is your daughter in Louisville, Kentucky at the moment?”
“No, I’m afraid not,” Ridge replied. “She chose to travel to New York and take in some of the sights of the city.”
“Belle-Raine wanted to be with her friends from school. She will have a grand time and plenty of shopping to enjoy. I’m certain she will return to us with a stunning collection of shoes, hats, and gowns,” Millie said to console Ridge.
Ridge cleared his throat and adjusted his position on the sofa. “I’m sure she will return with more gowns, hats, and shoes than a girl of her age should have! She seems to spend as well as any woman I’ve ever known!”
Turning to her niece, Aunt Millie said, “Don’t let Ridge fool you. He can afford it! I do hope we will come to be very close in the weeks and months ahead.” Aunt Millie poured more tea for everyone and Ridge stood, bringing his cup and saucer closer. He seemed very relaxed in her aunt’s sitting room and in their company.
“I hope so too, Aunt Millie,” she replied with a smile. “I’m sure we will be wonderful friends!”
“How was the passage on the ship?” Ridge inquired as he paused to look out of the windows and then returned to sit on the sofa.
“Yes, do tell us about your time on board the ship. You don’t get seasick, do you?” her aunt asked.
“No, I do not, a matter I am most thankful about as I noticed a few passengers did suffer greatly,” Geneva answered. “However, before I tell you about our journey by sea, there is something I must speak with you about.”
“Oh?” One of Aunt Millie’s eyebrows shot up and she tilted her chin toward Geneva. “What might that be, my dear?”
Looking directly at the dog near Aunt Millie’s feet, she plunged forward hoping for the best. “Well, how do you fare about… cats?”
“Cats…?” Aunt Millie blinked, somewhat of an alarmed look upon her face.
Chapter 7.
Land of My Inheritance
You have not given me into the hands of the enemy but have set my feet in a spacious place. Psalm 31:8, NIV
Ridge Morgan had taken his leave early, promising to return in a few days when she was settled in. Aunt Millie offered a light supper tray be sent to Geneva’s room when she spied her niece nodding off during tea. It was well after noon when she woke the next day to Polly opening the drapes. She sat up and yawned, stretching in the poster cherry-wood bed. The polished, dark wood gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the windows.
She looked about the Rose Room once again, still enamored by the grandeur of the plantation mansion. To her right, a fireplace with two chairs and cherry round end tables formed a pleasant, cozy sitting area. Further down along the right side of the room, a large wardrobe led to an alcove dressing room with a bathing tub. The alcove arch was flanked by floral drapes, pulled back on each side of the arch with fringed cords.
On her left, situated near the balcony doors, a tea table and two chairs looked inviting with a white linen tablecloth bunched and draped over a floral skirting. In the middle of the wall to her left, beneath a window overlooking the terraced courtyard below, a writing desk beckoned and captivated her attention. A small book case stood beside the desk across from her bed.
At the foot of her bed, she took note of a hope chest with a floral cushion on the lid. The door to the bedroom leading to the hallway took up the center of the wall across from the bed. To the right of the door, a vanity with a mirror and cushioned chair sat near the dressing room alcove, and on the left of the door toward the balcony doors, a walnut bench with more floral pillows and cushions occupied the wall. She could see why Aunt Millie had named it the Rose Room. Pink roses with spring green leaves on white fabric comprised the pattern adorning the furniture, the bed skirting, table skirting, and drapes. The coverlet was a solid shade of rose, as well as many of the pillows and accents in the bedroom.
“Bore da[16], Miss Geneva,” Polly said as she busied herself with unpacking the trunk. She carefully shook out each garment, hanging each carefully in the wardrobe. She also found a home for items to be folded or placed properly in the room.
“Bore da! Oh Polly! I think I went to bed a street urchin and awoke a princess!”
Polly laughed, “Ydw, I think we both did! I feel much the same after bein’ a cook most o’ me life. To be promoted to the personal maid fer a fine lady is quite an advancement in the world for the likes o’ me!” Polly began placing each of the dishes Mama had packed on the top shelf of the book case. “I thought about putting these in the hope chest, but seein’ as ever’thin’ be so strange, I thought t’would make ye and me both tuh feel at home if’n they were on display… right ‘ere on this top shelf.”
“Aye! I could not agree more! I would feel tremendously alone if you weren’t here, Polly,” Geneva replied. “I’m so thankful Mama sent you with me. I didn’t realize how far away from home I would be feeling once we arrived.”
“I certainly t’wouldn’t send me daughter across the sea by ‘erself, if,n I ‘ad a daughter! Yer Mama did the right thing sendin’ me with ye! Ye ‘ave always been like a daughter to me an’ always will be.”
“Oh, Polly, I’m so thankful to have you in my life!” Her heart felt full with love and appreciation for the faithful servant. Polly had always been motherly toward her. They had enjoyed many long talks over the years. Her presence helped a great deal, but she couldn’t ignore the pangs of homesickness churning like butterflies in her stomach. She thought about how far from home she felt in spite of her elation at the comforts of her new surroundings. It was going to take a long while before it felt like home. Thoughts of Mama surfaced even as they spoke. “Let’s spread the quilt across the foot of my bed.”
“Ye look a bit pale, Miss Geneva,” Polly remarked as she
set a breakfast tray on the bed with a plate of bacon, eggs, and a fluffy biscuit with butter and apple jelly. “Drink yer orange juice an’ put somethin’ in yer stomach so ye don’t take sick on me. I’ll find the quilt.”
“Yes ma’am,” Jen nodded. She said a silent prayer of thanksgiving to the Lord for both her breakfast and delivering them safely to Kentucky. She could not argue with Polly’s wisdom about eating breakfast. Her stomach churned with hunger, but not just for earthly food. “Have you found my Bible? I need time with the Lord every morning or my days just don’t go right. After breakfast, I’d like to see your bedroom so I know how to find you. Is everything to your liking?”
“Ydw… as nice as me own Welsh cottage an’ more!” The cook, transformed into a personal maid, beamed.
Jen studied the loyal servant’s face. She appeared contented and happy, but she knew Polly had taken on an adventurous endeavor in leaving her tiny cottage behind in Wales, regardless of the fact it had been rented. Polly had never married. Having no children of her own and little family to family to speak of, America seemed an attractive alternative to an otherwise ordinary, solitary existence. In truth, she didn’t need to know how to find her as much as she needed to ascertain the room given to Polly would be pleasing, suitable, and comfortable.
After breakfast and a bath, Geneva felt reinvigorated. Polly helped laced up the back of her corset. She slipped into the three tiered, ruffled petticoat with two hoops sewn into the bottom tiers over her pantaloons. Next, Polly helped her into a long-sleeved white blouse with a long layer of lace draping down in a cascading ruffle over the shoulders and bust. Finally, she stepped into the magenta and cream striped skirt. A black band of fabric cinched her waist.
Sitting down at the dressing table and mirror, Polly brushed her hair and rolled her black mane under and into a fashionable netting called a snood. The top edge of the snood had a border of pink and white silk flowers to match the garments she wore, perfectly framing her hair and face. Then Polly pinned her hair and the snood in place.
“I’m so pleased you’ve already unpacked my brush and mirror set, jewelry box, and toiletries,” she praised, noticing the efficiency of her work.
“Well, ye must look yer best. First impressions be cockney importance...”
Jen applied dabs of lavender perfume at her neck and wrists as she hummed a joyful tune. Finally, she found the cameo brooch her parents had given her as a going away present and pinned it to the quantity of lace and ribbons at the high-necked collar of the white blouse. When she stood back to look in the full length oval mirror in the dressing alcove, she felt ready to face the world. She slipped into a pair of brown shoes with a low heel and no buttons to hook.
“Ye look a fine southern belle! Ye have true, natural beauty, Miss Geneva. Don’t ye ever doubt what me tell ye!” Polly scolded.
“Diolch!” Jen blushed. “Now, let’s find where my aunt has tucked you away. I do hope climbing those stairs won’t be a problem for you.”
“P’shaw! Good exercise fer me!”
Polly led her to the bedroom on the third floor. Geneva was thankful the house seemed quiet and they were able to slip upstairs unnoticed. Polly wasn’t simply a servant. She was like family. Jen wanted to be absolutely certain she had been assigned a comfortable room.
She was pleased when Polly opened the door to a cheerful, cozy bedroom. Two windows flanking each side of a double bed with shiny brass head and foot rails adorned the wall across from the door. From there, a large, long, white, brick fireplace drew the eye immediately to the center of the wall to the right of the bed.
The right corner near the fireplace contained a sitting area with two plush chairs in a coral brocade fabric. Both had a coral, ruffled skirting and rolled arms, a round end table between them. Atop the table sat an oil lamp for reading. A skirted hassock with decorative, sturdy, oak legs stood before the chairs.
A tea table with chairs and an oak wardrobe occupied the left wall. A peach and yellow cornflower pattern adorned the tablecloth on the tea table. Peach and yellow pillows accented a peach and white quilt on the bed. Cheerful yellow and white plaid curtains with white ribbon trim fluttered in the spring breeze through the open windows. A round end table with a pitcher and basin occupied the corner beside the bed on the left. An oak writing desk beneath the window on the right, nearest the fireplace, added the perfect touch to the cozy room.
“What a lovely room! I find this jade green area rug with the coral and yellow pattern a pleasant touch. Aunt Millie was right! The view is stunning!” Geneva drew in her breath as she watched a riverboat as it seemed to float effortlessly down the Ohio River in the distance.
“’Tis indeed a view!”
“I see you are already completely unpacked,” Geneva noticed a number of items placed about the room from Polly’s Welsh home. Her tea set and tray adorned the tea table. Pewter candle sticks from home sat upon the desk with her Bible. On the fireplace mantle, she recognized several of Polly’s china figurines, a vase of silk flowers, and a few pictures in oval frames. Then, she spied Peaches curled up and sleeping on the tiny pillow in her bamboo cage, the door open in case she wanted to explore. A china bowl of milk beside the cage rested on the floor. “Oh Peaches! There you are! How do you like your new home?”
“She seems very happy to be able to get out of the cage at her own choosing! Does yer aunt know she be ‘ere yet?”
“Ydw, only concerned Pendleton may not adapt easily.”
“I suspected as much,” Polly nodded.
“Have you met many of the staff?”
“Only the housekeeper, Edna Tipper, an’ the cook, Delia Gardner… I was plum tuckered out an’ went right to me bed after me supper.”
“Aye,” Jen nodded. “Did they seem agreeable and welcoming?”
“Ydw! Delia bakes delicious apple pie an’ cooks a tasty chicken soup, but I only met her when she brought up a tray. She ‘as the room next to mine on the left… Edna ‘ad me trunk sent ‘ere to me room afore I even arrived. Oh, an’ cook put a vase o’ hyacinth on me tray. I thought ‘twas a nice touch.”
Jen nodded, pleased. “Where will you bathe?”
“There’s a hip bath under the bed you can’t see from ‘ere because of the bed skirting,” Polly answered. “Oh and there’s a bathing tub in the third floor powder room near the staircase… as big as yers. I believe all o’ the female staff may use the powder room, but someone said bathing times are scheduled due to the students sharing the third floor.”
“I see,” Jen nodded. “This house is so big it could take half an hour to find an outdoor powder room. I’m thankful for the indoor accommodations.”
“I’m thinking there be a lot o’ haulin’ water up and down the stairs, Miss Geneva, but ydw, I’m thankful too!” Polly agreed. “Now ye best find Aunt Millie afore she thinks ye be lost and sends out a search party! I will go downstairs with ye an’ finish unpackin’ yer trunk an’ lay out a gown fer supper.”
“Supper?” One of Jen’s eyebrows shot up.
Polly lowered her voice and responded, “Ydw, I am sure they ‘ave a change of dress for supper ‘round ‘ere. “Tis so fancy… didn’t they teach ye at the Mrs. Meadow manners place?”
“You mean Miss Meadow’s Finishing School… and oh ydw, diolch! You are most likely quite right. I just have to become accustomed to changing for meals. Aunt Millie may even change into afternoon clothing after breakfast, and again before supper.”
Polly nodded knowingly with a gleam in her eye. “A long time ago afore I worked fer yer family, I worked fer some well tuh do folks… as a cook mind ye. They changed garments sometimes four times a day. We best be ready! It’s already after noon, so only one more change… I will lay out a gown fer ye. Which do ye wish tuh wear to supper?”
“Hmm, I don’t have many formal gowns. How about the tartan plaid for our first supper in honor of Aunt Millie being Scottish? I think she might like it.”
“Veritable good thinkin’, Miss Ge
neva.”
“Diolch.”
A little while later, Geneva walked along the gently sloping perimeter of Grace Hill lawn with Aunt Millicent. The sun beat down warm on their faces while a spring breeze made the walk exceptionally enjoyable. Aunt Millie said she enjoyed a daily constitutional. Geneva, well used to walking on a daily basis and in all sorts of weather, found herself heartily amenable to the walk. It was a pleasant way for Aunt Millie to give her a tour of the plantation and afford them some privacy. They had just toured the plantation chapel. She found it a place of solitude and beauty. Nestled in a clearing toward and high above the slope to the river and constructed from large, brown stones with arched, stained glass windows, the church bore a distinctive style in contrast to the Georgian, white, brick mansion with dark green shutters and stately white pillars.
Pendleton followed behind, occasionally darting off to sniff a violet or a blade of grass and return. Sometimes he danced about them in circles and other times he trotted along beside or close behind them. He listened to Aunt Millie’s voice obediently. There seemed no shortage of velvety, dark purple, wild violets in the beautiful lawn.
