“I never hosted because my father wouldn’t—”
She stopped, her jaw tightening, as if she’d said something she wished she hadn’t.
Kathleen looked up at them both. For her sake, Henry didn’t push any further, but Rebekah’s dangling sentence tormented his thoughts.
Your father wouldn’t, what? he wondered. Welcome a group of young women into his home? He remembered how Miss Martin had mentioned making and gathering clothing for prisoners. Did she mean rebel prisoners of war? Had Van der Geld forbidden his daughter to assist?
How will it look to Detective Smith if—? He clipped the thought short. No. This is a matter of Christian charity. I will not discourage her from helping someone in need, no matter what the provost marshal’s office may or may not think.
Rebekah’s attention was now fully on Kathleen. She asked about the child’s Sunday school lesson and discussed the flowers they’d passed in their neighbors’ front gardens. She was putting on a cheery display, but Henry could see a different set of emotions in her eyes.
When they reached the house, his niece went off with Sadie so she might change out of her Sunday dress. He and Rebekah were alone in the foyer for the space of a minute. Henry wanted to broach the subject of her family again, but before he could open his mouth, Grace began to fuss.
“She’s hungry,” Rebekah said. “If you’ll excuse me...”
“Of course.”
He could hardly detain a hungry child. And if Rebekah does not wish to discuss her family with me, that is her prerogative, he told himself. He had wanted this arrangement to work for the sake of his sister’s children, and it was clear that Kathleen and Grace were doing splendidly in Rebekah’s care. But now he realized he wanted this union to succeed for his sake and Rebekah’s, as well. He wanted to be her place of comfort, security. He wanted to be the place where she built her home.
But knowing he could no more manufacture feelings of affection than he could his own righteousness, he let her go.
Chapter Ten
The latter days of May passed slowly. Rebekah cared for the children. Henry cared for the citizens of Baltimore. Each morning he rose with the sun and left early for City Hall. One day, however, she came down the stairs, girls in hand, and found him waiting in the foyer. He was dressed in his silk vest, tie and black frock coat. Rebekah tried to ignore how handsome he looked.
“I thought you would be at City Hall by now,” she said.
“The council isn’t meeting today, and the Wainwrights are coming later to conduct their scheduled interview.”
Scheduled interview? Rebekah didn’t remember him ever mentioning anything of the sort. She knew from that day at the Merchant’s Exchange that there was to be an interview, but Henry had never told her a specific day or time.
For one quick moment, she was tempted to blame herself for not being prepared for the arrival of guests, but she quickly shoved that thought aside. It isn’t my fault. “I was not aware that this was scheduled for today,” she said.
Kathleen crossed the space between them. Henry lifted her into his arms. When he nuzzled her neck, she giggled.
“I know,” he said to Rebekah. “I apologize. I forgot to tell you. In fact, I didn’t remember myself until just this morning.”
Oh, gracious. That means extra work for Hannah. She told herself she was angry, but it was hard to remain that way toward a man who apologized, especially one who showed such affection to children. “Have you anything to serve your guests?” she asked, her sense of duty taking over.
“Hannah has tonight’s dessert already prepared. We could serve that, if it is not an inconvenience to you.”
“It is of no inconvenience to me,” she said.
He nodded. “Sadie has offered to take the girls for a stroll when the Wainwrights visit. I would appreciate it if you would stay here to greet our guests.”
And there it is, she thought, her emotions swinging back to their previous state. Another political request. He wanted her there so the refreshments would be served and they could present the appearance of a happy, well-functioning home. Just like he wanted me to host the sewing circle. She was tempted to tell him to serve his own cake at both events, but Elizabeth is a friend of mine. It would be rude not to greet her today...and I have so missed visiting with our other friends.
Rebekah sighed. “Very well. I will do so, but I need to change my dress.”
“Of course.”
Sliding from his arms, Kathleen scampered toward the dining room. Henry held out his hands. “I’ll take Grace to Sadie,” he said.
Resisting the urge to keep the child to herself, Rebekah handed her to him. Grace’s little legs wiggled with excitement, especially when Henry held her at eye level and smiled. “Good morning, pretty girl. How are you today?”
Swallowing back the lump in her throat, Rebekah returned to her room. There she exchanged her simple cotton day dress for the blue taffeta tea bodice and skirt she’d worn on the rare occasions when she’d received a social call in her father’s house. Removing the pins from her bun, she brushed out her long, dark hair, then rolled and braided it into a more fashionable style. Henry had never said a word about her hair. Had he even noticed it the night it lay loose about her shoulders?
What does that matter now? she asked herself as she steeled her resolve for the duty that lay before her.
When David and Elizabeth arrived, Rebekah greeted them warmly, served the lemonade without spilling a single drop, then sliced Hannah’s spice cake and distributed the pieces.
“Thank you, my dear,” Henry said when she gave him his.
The words that had once made her heart swell now grated on her. My dear. She knew he did not mean that. She was not dear to him. He was speaking that way only because David and Elizabeth were listening. Her task now finished, she turned to go.
“Please stay.”
Stay? Rebekah froze. She told herself once again that Henry was asking only to make a good impression on his guests, but her curiosity got the better of her. She had never been included in such a gathering before. She would like to stay, if only to learn more of the world outside her new home. Cautiously she claimed the seat beside her husband.
Across from her, Elizabeth was already sketching away. David was balancing a reporter’s journal on one knee and his dessert on the other. Henry asked him how his newspaper was faring.
“Very well,” he said. “We’ve yet to match the Baltimore Sun, but our circulation is improving.” He glanced at his wife and grinned. “I think Elizabeth’s artwork has a great deal to do with that.”
A pang of jealousy struck Rebekah, and she immediately scolded herself. It wasn’t right for her to begrudge Elizabeth’s happiness. Forgive me, Lord. I’m sorry.
The conversation shifted from pleasantries to more pressing matters. David asked about the business of the council in regard to the president’s death.
“Well, as you are aware, there have been no riots, no public disturbances, so the police force is no longer on high alert,” Henry said.
David nodded. “For that we can be grateful. With the war ended and those suspected of conspiring against Lincoln now on trial, do you think the city will see a return to peace and prosperity?”
“I do hope so,” Henry said. “Economically, things are looking up. Several banking and trading institutions are already reestablishing business connections with the South. That will be helpful not only locally but also to the other cities.”
David scribbled down the quote. Elizabeth continued to capture Henry’s likeness. Rebekah watched the proceedings with a measure of intrigue and cynicism.
“I’m told by a reliable source that the federal government plans to maintain a military presence in Baltimore throughout the remainder of the year,” David said. “Do you think the soldiers’ pr
esence will be a help or a hindrance?”
Only then did Rebekah see her husband hesitate. When his jaw shifted slightly, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking of the prison he had so desperately hoped to escape or the one he now found himself trapped in with her.
“I hope the soldiers will be a help,” Henry said. “Transitioning from war to peace has not been easy, especially now, with the assassination. There is a lot of uncertainty about which way the country should go.”
David nodded. “Indeed. Some citizens want tighter federal control. Others want the power returned to the states. What would you like to see?”
“As a councilman or a private citizen?”
“Both.”
Again, Henry paused. “I hope we never again witness what we’ve seen the past four years. Hundreds of thousands dead, including the president...” He shook his head sadly. “I hope the local, state and national leadership will never forget the suffering this nation has endured. I hope we will seek divine wisdom in the days ahead, for surely history shows we aren’t wise enough on our own.”
As angry as she was with him, Rebekah had to admit, it was one of the most humble answers she had ever heard.
“There is also the matter of funding the Freedmen’s Bureau,” David said next. “Now that Lincoln is dead, many fear the money to assist the former slaves will be cut off completely.”
Henry nodded. “The council is looking into measures, ways to assist locally, should that happen.”
“I’m glad you brought that up,” Elizabeth said. Laying aside her drawing pencil, she turned to Rebekah. “I was thinking, given the current circumstances, that perhaps the sewing circle could do something to help.”
Rebekah was surprised that David and Henry had allowed the interview to change focus, but she was highly intrigued by Elizabeth’s suggestion. “Help? In what way?”
“We could make clothing, knit socks, other items. We’ve done it before for others.”
Yes, they had, only she had not been allowed to participate. A sense of pride, of purpose, surged within her. I will participate this time, regardless of the circumstances, regardless of Henry’s reasons for arranging them. This is how I will manage. I’ll care for the children. I’ll help those less fortunate. I’ll stay so busy that I have no time to mourn the life I had hoped for. “That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Rebekah said.
“Then you’d like to join us?”
“Oh yes.”
“Splendid!” Elizabeth said. “We can discuss it further with the girls next week.”
“Very good,” Rebekah replied. “I shall look forward to your arrival.”
* * *
Henry had thought the interview with David and Elizabeth Wainwright had gone well. He had enjoyed the couple’s visit, but more so, he had enjoyed having Rebekah beside him. At first he’d taken Rebekah’s interest in matters at the Freedmen’s Bureau as a positive sign. She was intrigued. She was smiling. She was engaging her guests in conversation; perhaps eventually she would do the same with him.
However, the moment Mr. and Mrs. Wainwright departed, so did her lively manner. When Henry tried to tell her he thought her desire to assist the freedmen was charitable indeed, she immediately withdrew from him.
“I’ve fabric to purchase,” she said. “I’d best do so before the shops close.”
“Have you enough money?” he asked, although he was fairly certain she did. Rebekah was downright frugal with her personal allowance, never spending a dime, at least as far as he could tell.
“I do,” she said. She thanked him for the inquiry, but her tone lacked warmth. He did not wonder why.
He started to tell her how pretty she looked in that ruffled dress, with her pagoda sleeves trimmed in white lace and ribbon. She’d dressed her hair, as well, rolling and plaiting it as she had that night he’d come to dinner in her father’s home. He didn’t say anything, however, for Sadie had returned. Rebekah was now delivering instructions concerning the children.
“I won’t be gone long,” she promised.
He watched as she kissed each child. An odd feeling resonated inside him. Was he jealous of her affection for the girls? How could he be? Didn’t he want her to love them?
When Rebekah left the house, Kathleen turned to him.
“Can we read the books?” she asked.
Henry smiled genuinely despite the conflict within him. “Of course, pretty girl.”
Sadie took Grace upstairs for a nap. He led Kathleen to the study. She chose her customary atlas. Nestled on his lap, she turned the big, dusty pages.
“Look at this one,” she said. “It’s a funny shape.”
“That’s Michigan,” he said. “Soon you’ll be big enough to read the names of the states for yourself.” Not that he was in a hurry to forgo moments like these. He kissed the top of her head, only to discover Kathleen’s hair smelled of lavender water. Just like Rebekah’s.
“I’m learning my letters,” Kathleen announced. “Aunt Rebekah is teaching me.” She found a capital K. “See, that’s in my name.”
“Yes, it is,” Henry said. “Very good.”
The conflict inside him intensified. His wife’s bond with Grace and Kathleen was strengthening. The ties that bound her to him, however, were weak and thin. He knew he couldn’t force a relationship with her, even if he did truly wish there was more to what they presently had. Henry supposed he’d been naive in thinking a prayer of confession and an apology would be enough to start over. Was complimenting her dress and hair what was needed? Or if he did so, would she think him even more insincere than she already did?
Tired of the atlas, Kathleen asked for another book. “What about a Bible story?” Henry asked. “I’ll read you the one about Esther.”
“Who’s that?”
“Esther was a beautiful young lady whom God used to save her people from a very bad man.”
“She was a ’portant lady?”
“Yes. She was very important. She was a queen.” He squeezed her gently. “Just like you.”
The little girl giggled, then hurried to fetch the Bible.
Following the story, Rebekah returned. She called for Kathleen from the hall. Sliding from Henry’s lap, the little girl hurried for the door. He trailed after her.
Rebekah greeted the child with a warm embrace and a smile. Her enthusiasm faded when she noticed him. Henry forced himself to ignore the chill her frostiness invoked.
“Was your shopping successful?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied with all the cordiality one would give a complete stranger. “I’ve all the fabric I need.”
Rebekah led Kathleen toward the staircase. Not knowing what else to say or do, Henry returned to his study. Frustrated, he blew out his breath.
How do I mend the damage, Lord? His Bible was still lying on the table. He picked it up. He’d spent much time in the Scriptures lately. It was here he had once learned the principles of honest business and public service. It was here he was certain he’d find the secret to a happy marriage. He knew God wished for children to be reared in a loving, Christ-centered home. He’d heard Reverend Perry say such words before. Henry wished now he had paid more attention.
He wasn’t certain exactly where to look, but he thought he remembered seeing instructions among Paul’s writings concerning husbands and wives. Finding what he was looking for, he settled himself into a chair and began to read.
“Husbands love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church and gave himself for it...”
He heaved another sigh. Christ is perfect. I am far from it. He realized that as much as he wanted to, he could not love his wife as he should. He could not undo the damage he had done. But God can...
And so he continued to read.
* * *
The ci
ty council was to convene at noon. Henry was just leaving the house the day Rebekah’s friends arrived for the sewing circle. He spoke with them momentarily in the foyer.
“I understand good news is in order,” he said.
Rebekah knew exactly what he meant. She’d seen the one encouraging newspaper story among the rest of the disheartening articles. The prison camps were closing, and the former rebel soldiers were returning to their families. Julia’s brother, Edward, and Trudy and Elizabeth’s brother, George, had been held at Point Lookout as prisoners of war.
“Oh yes!” Julia exclaimed. “Our brothers will soon be returning home! At long last, the war is finally coming to an end!”
“Indeed,” Henry replied with a smile, “we are so pleased for you.” When he looked to Rebekah, his smile faltered.
Her heart squeezed. He will never look at me the way Sam does Julia, nor the way David looks at Elizabeth. Never. “Yes,” Rebekah forced herself to say cheerfully, looking to her friends. “We are very pleased.”
With that, Henry bid the ladies good day and went on his way. Rebekah was grateful he did not linger any longer. The tension between them would soon be obvious to anyone in the room. How was she to explain their circumstances to her friends? They were newly married. They were expected to be happy.
As the front door closed behind him, Rebekah determined to put all thoughts of Henry aside. I will waste no more time thinking about him today. I have other matters to attend. The ladies commandeered the parlor. Rebekah settled Kathleen and Julia’s two-year-old daughter, Rachael, on the settee in the corner of the room. She handed them each a cloth doll that she had fashioned from fabric scraps last evening. When the little ones were content, Rebekah showed her friends the fabric she had purchased for the freedmen.
“This will make good, suitable clothing,” Elizabeth said.
“Indeed,” Julia replied, “but before we begin, there is another matter.”
“Oh,” Rebekah said. “What’s that?”
The Reluctant Bridegroom Page 15
