Hero's Bride

by Jane Peart

  She started to speak but found she couldn't.

  Kip reached for her hand. "What do you say?"

  If she were smart, she'd hesitate, keep him waiting. But Kitty was much too honest. Besides, her ears ringing with what he had just asked, she felt a surge of joy that could not be denied.

  "Kitty?"

  Silly tears rushed into her eyes, but she could only nod. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her the way Kitty had long dreamed of being kissed, and she was lost in the ecstasy of the moment.

  "Yes, oh yes," she murmured before his mouth covered hers again. She had waited so long for this. "Darling Kip, I love you so."

  chapter

  4

  Winter 1915

  Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with you.

  Let me hear you whisper that you love me, too. . . .

  And when I told them, they didn't believe me,

  That from this great, big world you've chosen me.

  —from two popular songs

  ON ONE OF THOSE brilliant mornings that come to Virginia in early fall, each turning leaf—bronze, gold, and russet—etched sharply against a vivid blue sky, Kip arrived at Cameron Hall to take Kitty to Bell Park Field.

  She had tried desperately to understand Kip's passion for flying. She knew that he had always been restless, easily bored, always looking for new challenges. Flying was the new frontier for the bold, the adventurous, the young explorers. It suited him, she had to admit. So she had gamely agreed to accompany him twice a week to the airfield for his flying lesson.

  Today, however, she had other plans for them.

  "Let's take a walk first. I have something to show you," Kitty said mysteriously when he appeared on the doorstep.

  Uncharacteristically, Kip fell in with the plan, cocking an eyebrow inquisitively but obeying.

  She whistled for Shamus, her Irish setter, and they set out down the drive. At the path leading into the woods, the dog took off like a red streak through the brush, then wheeled and bounded back to them before taking off again.

  "Can't you tell me where we're going?" Kip asked.

  "You'll see."

  "I think you're trying to take your revenge," Kip teased.

  Kitty did not reply but glanced up at him, eyes twinkling. They walked on quite a distance into the woods before she stopped.

  "Close your eyes now. I'll lead you the rest of the way."

  "Ah, Kitty, aren't we a little old for 'Blind Man's Bluff?"

  "Just be patient. It's only a little farther now." She took his hand and tugged gently.

  They moved forward more slowly now with Kitty in the lead. The deeper they went into the woods, the more peaceful it seemed. Only the rustle of birds in the trees, the faraway sound of the creek rushing to the river, disturbed the deep silence.

  When they came to a clearing, Kitty pulled on Kip's hand, drawing him alongside her. "You can open your eyes now."

  A small house of white clapboard and mellow brick, the miniature of Montclair, stood before them, enveloped in sunlight. Dark blue shutters framed the eight-paned windows on either side of the fan-lighted door. A flagstone walk, bordered with late-blooming marigolds and purple asters, led up to the pocket-sized porch, and russet-red Virginia creeper climbed up the chimney.

  "So this is your little secret?"

  "Well, maybe not a secret . . . but almost forgotten."

  "Eden Cottage."

  "Yes." Kitty let out the breath she had been holding as she waited for Kip's reaction. "The traditional honeymoon house for Montrose brides—" She paused. "Kip, I want to live here. I mean, I want us to live here."

  Kip stepped forward to look around. "Kitty, the place has been closed up for years. It's probably musty, full of mildew and mice."

  She suppressed a little shudder. "But surely it can be cleaned up, painted, restored—"

  Kip walked up on the porch, gripped one of the posts, peeled off a strip of paint, and shook his head, frowning.

  "Oh, look, Kip!" Kitty pointed to the latticed arbor at the side of the house. Two built-in benches inside were shadowed by tangled vines, the leaves shimmering in jewel-like colors in the autumn sunshine. What a perfect place for lovers to sit, sharing an intimate moment, she thought.

  But Kip had disappeared around the back of the house.

  "The roof's been ravaged by squirrels, and the eaves over the windows look like they've nested generations of birds—" he called back.

  "But it all can be fixed, can't it, Kip?" She caught up with him at the back door.

  He gave her a long, reflective look. "You want to live here?"

  "Oh, yes, Kip, I really do!"

  He brushed off the dust he'd accumulated and gave her a wide grin. "Well, then, consider it done. I'll talk to Pa and see about getting a consultation with a builder. We'll put a crew to work just as soon as possible."

  "Oh, Kip, I love you so!" Kitty said, throwing her arms around his neck.

  In retrospect, the only thing to mar her perfect happiness was Kip's seeming lack o f enthusiasm. She wished he'd been the one to discover the little house and proclaim it the ideal place to start their life together. Wished he'd thought of carrying on the family tradition of spending the honeymoon year here. But what did it matter? At least, he had agreed to her plan. And they were going to be married and live happily ever after at Eden Cottage!

  A few weeks later, Kip and Kitty were sitting in the small parlor at Cameron Hall. A fire blazed in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the room.

  "Here, milady—the keys to the kingdom." Kip reached into the pocket of his tweed jacket and brought out a key ring from which dangled three old-fashioned brass keys. He took Kitty's hand, turned it over, and placed the keys in her palm. "Eden Cottage—all yours to do whatever your heart desires."

  From his vest, he withdrew a legal-looking document. "It's all here in black and white, giving you the authority to contract for roofing, painting, whatever needs to be done. The deed to the house and the three surrounding acres are all in your name."

  "But it should be in both our names, shouldn't it?"

  He shrugged. "This just makes it easier when you're overseeing the repairs and restoration. You'll be on the scene, ordering paint, selecting the colors . . . all that sort of thing." He made a sweeping gesture. "We can change it after we're married."

  Kitty's fingers closed around the keys. "Talk about dreams coming true." She sighed happily. "Ever since I was a little girl, I've always thought of Eden Cottage as some enchanted place, a fairy-tale house nestled deep in the woods, like the dwarfs' house in Snow White."

  Kip looked puzzled.

  "Didn't you read fairy tales when you were a child?" Kitty gasped.

  "Guess not. Did I miss something?"

  Kitty laughed. "Oh, Kip, darling! Never mind. We'll make up for it . . . we'll make up for everything . . . after we're married!"

  "Well, just remember, I'm six-two, hardly a dwarf," he teased. "Just in case you're thinking of making any major changes in the ceiling height, that is."

  Getting the house ready by June presented more of a challenge than Kitty had anticipated. In the first place, Montrose had stood empty for years, abandoned since Avril Montrose was married for the second time to Logan Cameron, and moved to Bermuda. Besides that, the structural restoration that had to be done took longer than anyone had foreseen.

  In addition, since Avril had taken most of the furnishings with her, the house had to be completely refurnished. Kitty spent hours researching eighteenth-century materials to be used for curtains, haunting antique stores, and attending auctions. She wanted everything to be authentic, for the interior of the cottage to be as much like it might have been when it was built.

  When she tried to interest Kip in helping her choose from swatches of fabric or pore over books of historical furniture, he proved irritatingly indifferent. "I haven't a clue about this sort of thing, Kitty." He threw out his hands helplessly.

  "But you're going to li
ve there, too. It's going to be our house, Kip, not just mine."

  "Whatever you decide will be fine with me," he said firmly and that was the end of it.

  The restoration of the little cottage became Kitty's project. Much as she might have wished it were different, Kip rarely came over to inspect the progress of the work. Instead, he continued his daily trips to the flying field. She tried not to be jealous of Kip's preoccupation with flying, of the time spent away from her that they could have spent together, but it was hard when she wanted to be with him every minute.

  Kitty comforted herself with the memory of a past experience, one that had made a deep impression on her. As girls, she and Merry Montrose had enjoyed wandering around the old tombstones in the cemetery behind the Mayfield church, reading the quaint epitaphs from long ago. One had stayed with her through the years: "What I gave, I have; what I spent, I saved; what I kept, I lost."

  At the time, Kitty had not quite understood its meaning. But now, applying that bit of philosophy to her present situation with Kip, it made good sense. I f she objected to his flying, made it into some kind of contest, made him choose, she would lose him. Just as Merry had confided to her how she felt about Manny's going out no matter what the weather, how afraid she was that there would be some kind of accident, that he would never come back.

  "Finally, I knew I had to get rid of the fear. It was crippling me, crippling our marriage. For generations, the men in Manny's family have been professional fishermen. I knew that when I married him. I can't let my feelings spoil all the rest of our life together."

  Wise words from her friend, Kitty thought. She'd have to learn to accept Kip's flying, too.

  chapter

  5

  "WHEN DO YOU WANT to announce your engagement?" Blythe asked her daughter one morning at breakfast.

  "Oh, I don't know, Mama. What do you think?"

  "We could make the announcement at our annual New Year's Eve party. Or would you prefer a separate affair?"

  "I think Kip's giving me my ring at Christmas—"

  "Well then—" At Kitty's hesitation, Blythe took matters into her own hands—"since we'll need several weeks to make arrangements, maybe Valentine's Day would be nice. Such a romantic time to have an engagement party, don't you think?"

  "I'll talk it over with Kip, then let you know." Kitty got up from the table, came around and kissed her mother on the cheek. "Thanks, Mama, for wanting to do so much for us."

  "I just want you to be happy, darling."

  "Yes, I know. And I will be . . . I am—"

  Blythe smiled. "Where are you off to?"

  "Eden Cottage. The painters are coming today."

  Then have fun, dear."

  From her place at the dining room table, Blythe had a clear view through the window. As she watched her daughter's slender figure walking down the driveway to take the woodland path, she thought of the little house in the woods.

  Eden Cottage! What memories of her own that name evoked. It was there, during her disastrously unhappy marriage to Malcolm Montrose, that she and Rod had first recognized their feelings for each other. Although that love remained unspoken for many years, the cottage remained a special place.

  The week before Christmas, Kip, at a loss to know what kind of present to give his stepmother, Phoebe Montrose, begged Kitty for help in selecting a gift. She was secredy pleased but teased him unmercifully, boasting that she'd had her presents bought and wrapped weeks ago.

  He grinned sheepishly but had a ready excuse. "I hadn't the slightest notion what to get for her. Besides, you'd know how to please her better than I."

  "Actually, Kip, I don't know her that well myself," Kitty replied doubtfully.

  Of course, she remembered when the young Scotswoman had served as nanny the summer she and Cara spent in England as children. But Kitty had been away at college when Kip's widowed father had encountered Phoebe McPherson again in Scotland, had fallen in love with her and brought her home as a bride to Montclair. At first, the Montroses traveled a great deal. But now Phoebe was the mother of a toddler, living a very different life from Kitty's.

  Kip suggested the city would have a bigger, better selection to offer than the Mayfield stores, so they left early one overcast morning to drive up to Richmond.

  Leaving Kip's car in the parking garage o f the fashionable hotel where they planned to have lunch later, they set out to shop. It was quite cold, and the wind blew in gusts, sending flurries of snow in a swirling dance about their feet as they walked down the streets, gazing into the brightly decorated shop windows.

  There was a bewildering variety from which to choose. By the time they had explored the third department store, Kip was ready to call it quits.

  "We've been looking for hours," he complained. "Besides, I'm hungry. Let's go have lunch."

  "But, Kip. We've barely started. Don't you have any ideas at all? Linens, china, crystal?" Kitty's voice trailed away. Montclair was already beautifully decorated, with many heirlooms passed down from previous generations of Montrose matrons. "What about something personal then . . . a silk scarf, a beaded bag—" Again she hesitated.

  Kip's eyes brightened. "How about a piece of jewelry?" Once again in control, he took Kitty by the arm and propelled her down the street toward Simmons & Sons, a store on the next corner whose sign discreedy offered "Fine Gems, Estate Jewelry, Antique Reproductions."

  Inside, the decor was understated elegance. Thick carpeting silenced their booted steps, and subtle lighting gave the place an atmosphere of hushed grandeur. The glass showcases were lined with mauve velvet with only a few selected pieces tastefully displayed.

  A balding gentleman, splendid in a frock coat and striped trousers, a pair of pince-nez glasses perched on the end of a high-bridged nose, approached them.

  "Good afternoon, may I be o f assistance?" he asked in such a funereal tone that Kitty dared not glance at Kip for fear of giggling.

  But Kip seemed equal to the occasion. To Kitty's surprise, especially in light of his initial uncertainty about Phoebe's gift, he responded confidently. "Yes, indeed. We'd like to see some of the estate jewelry, or perhaps some of your antique reproductions."

  Kitty quickly stifled her urge to laugh, intrigued by the beautiful pieces they were shown. The salesman knew his jewelry and proceeded to tell them the history of each piece he showed them. One, in particular, caught Kitty's attention—a spectacular, deep blue sapphire ring surrounded by tiny diamonds in a gold setting.

  Seeing the spark of interest in her expression, the jeweler spoke in reverent tones. 'This is copied from a museum original. It is a reproduction of the engagement ring given by our Confederate President, Jefferson Davis, to his second wife, Varina."

  "Oh, it's exquisite. Truly the loveliest ring I've ever seen." Kitty spoke in a near whisper. As a lover of history, especially the War Between the States, in which Virginia had played a part, she was fascinated by the story behind the ring.

  Kip, however, seemed preoccupied. He was looking at a case displaying some necklaces and had missed the jeweler's discussion of the beautiful ring and its historical significance.

  "What do you think, Kitty? Pearls?" he asked, spotting a nice strand in the case.

  Kitty shook her head regretfully. "Sorry, Kip. I know Phoebe has pearls. She was wearing a double strand at baby Fraser's christening."

  Kip looked discouraged. "Well, come on, then. I know she loves to read. Let's go to a bookstore. Maybe I can find her a book about Scotland."

  Just then the jeweler cleared his throat and said diffidendy, "Pardon me, but may I make a suggestion? Is this person of Scottish heritage, perchance?"

  "Why, yes—"

  "Then perhaps this—" He brought out a finely crafted silver pin on which was sculptured a thistle set with a clear, lavender amethyst stone.

  "Oh, Kip, look," Kitty breathed. "This would be the perfect gift for her. It's the symbol of Scotland, and I'm sure Phoebe would love it."

  Kip was instand
y agreeable. He asked the salesman to wrap the pin as a Christmas gift, and they were on their way.

  In the hotel dining room, they dined on chicken ála king, rolls, and chocolate cream pie. Afterward, strolling through the hotel's arcade of fine specialty shops, Kip completed his shopping with a handsome leather writing case for his father and a cuddly Teddy bear for his little half-brother.

  Kip was elated, "Now I have everything on my list. See how easy shopping can be! No problem to wait 'til the last minute!"

  Kitty sent him a withering look. "You're hopeless!"

  "Ah, Kitty, don't think I'm ungrateful. I'd never have been able to do this without you. Now let's go home."

  "Don't forget. We have to go back to the jeweler's and pick up Phoebe's pin," Kitty reminded him.

  "I'll tell you what. Since that's several blocks from here, we'll drive there. Then you can stay warm while I run in and get it."

  Driving home, Kitty patted Kip's arm. "Well, that wasn't so bad, was it? Isn't it a satisfying feeling to find gifts that will please the people you love?"

  "I hope so," he replied noncommittally.

  In Mayfield, as they drove by the small Colonial church in the center of town, Kitty suddenly remembered her promise to deliver greens for the holiday decorations. Blythe had overseen the packing of the boxes, and Kip had placed them in the trunk of the car before they left for Richmond. But Kitty had almost forgotten they were there.

  Kip followed her into the church, carrying the boxes of fragrant spruce boughs and holly, bright with red berries.

  The ladies of the Auxiliary were still hard at work but greeted Kitty happily, exclaiming that they could always use more greenery. The choir was in the stalls, practicing Christmas carols, and the raftered sanctuary resounded with their joyous music.

  Kitty and Kip emerged a short time later into a lovely purple dusk. A light powdery snow had fallen during the day and, driving through Mayfield, Kitty enjoyed seeing the houses adorned for Christmas with wreaths on the doors and glimpses of newly trimmed trees, their lights twinkling through the windows.