“You were not mistaken.” She handed me the tea, and I took a sip.“Ben was an expert hybridist. He loved roses and went around the world collecting different varieties.
“He was in the middle of writing a second book on the subject when he died. He was returning from collecting more specimens abroad when his ship wrecked.” She sipped her tea, seemingly staring into its depths a moment. “And his book was never finished.”
“I know that is not an easy thing to live through. The death of a loved one.”
She set her teacup down. “Miss Lovell, let me be frank with you. I do not want you in this house.”
“Your reasons would be? And please do not tell me it’s because I laundered clothes. Your dislike of me is entirely too personal.”
Her dark eyes burned with anger. “You are a threat to my family because both Benedict and Stephen are somewhat intrigued by you. Francesca succeeded in almost completely destroying Benedict and Stephen and nearly Katherine as well. It will be years before my sons’ wounds will heal, if ever. Both are teetering on a precipice. And as I see it, you are the very breeze that will push them over the edge.”
“How? What did Francesca do?”
“Evil has no greater face than that of an angel. While you are no beauty, Miss Lovell, I see you are like Francesca.”
I placed my cup of tea on the table. “Mrs. Trevelyan. Were you standing in the tower window looking at the bay the first day I began work, and again the other day? Did you stand in the hallway behind me only to duck away when I turned?”
“And if I did? This house is my home.”
“Did you enter my room in the middle of the night? Did you send me a note telling me to stay at my own peril? Did you destroy your grandsons’ garden?” With every sentence, her eyes grew wider with surprise.
I had the answer I needed for now. Whatever Mrs. Trevelyan might have done to Francesca, she was not behind the most disturbing incidents. I had an even more dangerous enemy within the house on Trevelyan Hill than she. And I began to question the wisdom of confronting the situation as directly as I had planned to do this evening.
Standing, I said, “There is one thing you may have not thought of, Mrs. Trevelyan. What if I am the wind that’s blowing your sons back onto solid ground? What if your withdrawal into grief and infirmity is only making the precipice on which they stand even shakier? You have grandsons that need you even more than your sons. Are you going to wait until they disappear over a precipice before you realize that? Unless they know it already, I suggest you let your family see you and up walking. They need signs of hope that the future is not condemned to the pain of the past.”
“How dare you!”
“I learned today that there is nothing I would not dare when it comes to protecting Justin and Robert. I love them.” I left before she recovered.
13
Thursday, Mr. Anthony Simons arrived early for our ten-thirty sign language lesson to find us romping around the stained glass foyer like cowboys gone mad. Justin, Robert, and I had had a very busy morning. We’d met with Stephen in the stables and spent two hours with Cesca. Even I’d been forced to pet her and give her a carrot.
Keeping up my fear in the face of a furry horse half my size that looked at me with eyes as meltingly warm as Robert’s was beyond my capabilities. Cesca simply won me over. But then anything or anyone who brought the light of laughter to Robert’s face and interest to Justin’s won my allegiance.
As did Stephen, I’m afraid to say. The man had a knack of knowing exactly what to do and what to say to make Robert bounce with merriment, me giggle, and even Justin cough up a reluctant smile or two. But what finally grabbed my affections was Stephen giving the boys romping “horse” rides on his back in the stained glass foyer, sending Dobbs into a hullabaloo. It was a wonder he didn’t grab the armored man’s sword and begin chasing us.
Not even the knock at the door and or Dobbs’s escalating apoplectic fit halted the fun. Mr. Simons stepped into the foyer, his manner as hesitant as a defeated soldier holding a white flag facing enemy troops. Even before he glanced our way, I saw his gaze center on the stairs and linger a moment. I wondered how many times he’d watched Katherine rush down to greet him.
With Robert still on his back, Stephen came to a stop before Mr. Simons, offering his hand. “Good to see you, Anthony. It has been too long.”
Relief eased the man’s grim smile, and he shook Stephen’s hand. “Far too long.” He swallowed as if he had too many words in his mouth. “Not since the funeral….” His voice died to a whisper, and he shook his head as if to wake himself. “When did you get back from the East?” Dobbs took the man’s coat.
“A few weeks ago,” Stephen said, shrugging. “I see you must have decided to stay with the Institute of the Deaf and Blind rather than move back to New York.”
“Yes, my work here was not done. Once I could see past my personal situation, the decision to stay was easy to make.” Even as he spoke, he looked up the staircase again, as if he expected someone to appear. There was no mistaking the tightness of sorrow etched upon his face. I realized it was this that gave him the saintlike aura I’d noted.
Stephen cleared his throat and set Robert down. “She knows you are expected. I do not know if she will come down or not.”
Mr. Simons stiffened his shoulders.“I did not come here to see Katherine. I am here to teach. If I have arrived too early, I can come back later.”
“Nonsense, Mr. Simons,” I said, straightening my dress and joining them. “We are ready for the lesson. Master Justin and Master Robert, please come meet Mr. Simons. He’s here to teach us a special language.”
“Miss Wovell, can I ride horsey one more time?” The look on Robert’s face pulled at my heart. It was as if he was afraid the fun would go away and never come back, and he wanted to have one more memory of it. Had I not felt the same way after Benedict’s second kiss?
“Always ask permission to do something by saying,‘May I.’ Now, if your uncle wants to give you a ride to the day parlor, you may. But once there, I expect you to settle down and give Mr. Simons your complete attention.”
“I promise.” He turned his imploring gaze to his uncle. “Pwease?”
“Do you think I’d leave you stranded, partner?”
Though he’d been speaking to Robert, Stephen’s question triggered a response from Justin. “Yes,” Justin said, sadly, the fuzzy warmth and beauty of the colored beams falling from his hunched shoulders as he left the foyer. I thought Dobbs would faint with relief as we followed Justin to the day parlor.
Robert got his ride, but the sparkle in Stephen’s laugh had dulled. Stephen surprised me by joining our lesson, claiming he needed to brush up on his sign language skills. But the real shock of the morning was seeing Constance, artfully turned out in a lacy day dress of cream and shell pink, appear to take part in the instruction.
After I saw her bat her eyes at Mr. Simons when he touched her hand to bend her finger in a simple movement she couldn’t seem to grasp, I knew why she’d come. Yet Mr. Simons didn’t acknowledge her efforts to attract his attention.
I’d wondered before if Francesca had been the dividing tool between Katherine and Mr. Simons. I hadn’t considered Constance.
The children were more adept at picking up the new language than Stephen or I. Constance didn’t do well. I don’t think she was trying for anything other than attention, though. Otherwise, I considered the class a worthwhile success.
Once we were done, I stood, explaining that the children were due in the kitchen for their lunch.
“Actually, eating is a wonderful idea,” Constance said, then looked at Mr. Simons.“Mr. Simons, would you care to join us for a meal? You have the time for lunch today, do you not, Stephen?”
“Of course. Should have thought of it myself, Connie. Will you stay, Anthony? And Miss Ann, you must join us as well.”
I shook my head. “I have to see to the children’s lessons this afternoon.”
“We will not keep you long. No reason for you to eat in the kitchens with the boys when you can eat with us. Hurry back,” Stephen said, dismissing my protests.
Living in the Trevelyan household had a way of leading me down paths far from the straight and narrow. I hurried, oddly looking forward to lunch and learning more about Mr. Simons. His relationship with Katherine and its mysterious demise intrigued me. The kitchen bustled with activity; Cook Thomas was on top of the world. “Will ye be needing a basket of goodies for your outing tomorrow? I have meat pies tasty enough to tempt a saint to gluttony.” He rubbed his ample girth with a jolly fist.
“Unfortunately, we will have to postpone our trip to the bank until next Friday. I hope Mr. Trevelyan will be back by then and be able to accompany us for the outing.”
“I don’t think that boy has had a moment’s ease since his father died. Even before that, if the truth were to be told. Haven’t seen him smile since he gave up his ship.”
“Why did he?”
“Bad investments. Bad times. The railroad’s sudden appearance nearly wiped out the Trevelyans’ fortune. The captain’s father had more of an eye for a rose than he did for finances.” Cook Thomas shook his head and sighed. “The captain had to sell everything he’d built up to save his father, then he had to marry a lass who had no heart for him. ’Twas a sad day it were.”
I wanted to know more, but I also felt if I asked any questions, I’d be invading Benedict’s privacy. Besides, I was expected back in the dining room, so I bit back my curiosity.“I hope an outing with the children will help.”
“Aye, that it will. A man with too many responsibilities forgets how to live.”
As does a woman with too much practicality. The thought, which came at me from nowhere, shook me. “Please have Maria notify me when the children are done. I’ll be in the dining room.”
When I arrived, I found Mr. Simons telling Stephen about a man who’d be speaking at the institute on Saturday. “Mr. Forester is a staunch believer in oralism. I do not agree with forcing deaf students to speak and read lips to communicate, but I do believe in the movement’s desire to make deaf people less isolated from the world around them. He will be speaking on ways to do just that.”
“Pardon me for joining this discussion late, but did you say who could attend this lecture?”
“Anyone in the community who is interested,” Mr. Simons replied.
“Then I could attend?”
He raised his brows. “Absolutely. We are striving to educate everyone that deafness is not leprosy. This is the second in a series of lectures we have planned.”
Constance spoke before I could. “That’s wonderful. I wish Katherine would realize…” She shook her head, as if she shouldn’t have mentioned Katherine’s name. “Would you mind if I joined you, Miss Lovell?”
“No, not at all,” I said slowly, trying to fathom why Constance would attend a lecture.
“I will be expecting you two then. I can reserve special seating in the front.”
“Add me to the event as well,” Stephen said. “And Katherine. They will have an interpreter, correct?”
“Yes,” Mr. Simons paused and ran a shaky hand through his hair, clearly more troubled than he wanted anyone to know.“Is she ready for that? She wasn’t before, and I am not an advocate of force—in any matter.”
Stephen shrugged. “Birds never pushed from the nest never learn to fly. I will bring her.”
I know Stephen was in no way referring to Francesca’s death, but in my mind, I kept seeing her pushed from the tower. She hadn’t flown. She’d died.
“Cesca did not,”Mr. Simons said softly. I barely heard the breathy words. They were but a fleeting whisper that I thought I imagined until I saw the sharp look Mr. Simons and Stephen exchanged. I shivered.
The decision I had made yesterday not to confront everyone about the herb garden and my threatening note had been the right one. I didn’t know friend from foe and deemed hiding behind a thin veil of polite falsehoods prudent. Thankfully, all I had said about the herb garden at dinner last night was that animals had damaged it, and we would plant another one.
The rest of Thursday and Friday passed without any major difficulties. We made up for missed lessons, planted a new garden, and spent time with Cesca and Stephen in the stables. My heart didn’t pound every time I entered the building, and I’d taken to speaking a word or two at Gunnlod whenever she popped her head out of the stall.
I pretended that Cesca and Gunnlod were the only two horses in existence. It helped.
Saturday morning dawned. I awoke tired, with hardly the energy to rise and meet the sun. My dreams had ruled again, casting Benedict as friend, lover, husband, it didn’t matter. Whatever I dreamed, he was there, and Cook Thomas’s words were, too. He had to marry a lass who had no heart for him.
I pinched my cheeks, looking for color to hide the dark shadows under my eyes. Benedict and sleep were like oil and water; no matter what I did, they didn’t mix.
Dressing, I decided to run errands before attending the lecture at the institute later this afternoon. I hoped Stephen had made progress in convincing Katherine to come. As of last night, she was adamantly against it.
A sharp knock on my door made nerves tingle. For some reason, Benedict immediately came to mind. I suppose whenever he was away, I felt his absence and expected his return at any minute. The reaction was disturbing.
Quickly slipping the last button on my lavender pinstripe into place, I answered the door. “Miss Ortega,” I said blinking.“Is there a problem?”
“No, Miss Lovell, other than I owe you an apology, no? Stephen has quite reminded me that I have been very remiss in welcoming you to our home here.”
“Thank you, but there is no need. The Trevelyan household has been more than generous. Indeed, I’d not expected my accommodations to be any different from those of the household servants. But I am afraid Mr. Trevelyan insisted, and I have to admit, being close to the children is very important.”
Constance sighed, her dark eyes narrowing. “You speak the truth, no? Then I owe you another apology. You come here and are treated as one of the family, and I say to myself, Constance, this woman is trying to take advantage of a fam ily to whom I owe many things. I did not like you for that.”
I blinked. She had no problem coming right to the point of a discussion. Past conversations had led me to believe she’d avoid any confrontation of truth.
“Well,” I said, making myself smile, “I must apologize to you. I did not like you very much either. At least I did not until you sang. I envy your poise.”
“But I sing awfully.”
“I know. I am cursed as well when it comes to singing, but you did it so beautifully, I had to admire you.”
She laughed. “You are good for me, no? For you to like my singing makes you quite unusual, as am I. I am off this morning to do some shopping. Would you care to join me?”
Her offer took me aback. That we had cleared a bit of the air between us in no way made her my friend. Yet I did want the opportunity to find out more about her, possibly learn what her relationship with Mr. Henderson was, and even learn more about Francesca.
“I have several errands to do, and I will need to stop by my friend’s shop, McGuire’s Bookstore. Will that accommodate your plans?”
“Of course, we will have a grand time, no? I will instruct Dobbs to have the carriage ready for us in an hour. That will still give us three hours to shop. The lecture is not until four this afternoon, correct?”
“Yes,” I said, stunned. Three hours to shop? How could anyone spend so much time shopping?
Constance departed, leaving me standing at the door. To be honest, I didn’t think we would have a grand time. And I felt as if my day of freedom had just been caught in the noose of a lasso, wrapped tight, and snatched back from its intended goal.
Worse yet, rather than walking, I had to face the notion of a horse taking me. Not a relaxing thought. At least in a car
riage I’d be completely protected from the beast.
The only bright spot was that I loved the idea of telling Dobbs to ready a carriage. The order had quite a dignified ring to it, so the day wasn’t going to be a total loss.
I made sure I was in the foyer extra early with my gloves on. Dobbs stood like a sentinel by the door.
“Do you have the carriage for Miss Ortega and me ready, Mr. Dobbs?”
His eyes narrowed above his stiff nose. “Mr. Trevelyan will hear of all these goings-on, Miss Lovell, I assure you. The carriage will be out front shortly.”
“Thank you. I will be in the music room.”I went immediately to the piano as I entered the room and slid my gloved fingers across the ivory keys. Just to be able to touch so grand an instrument filled me with awe. Until coming to Trevelyan Hill, I’d only seen grand pianos in books. That I now could touch one, even possibly learn to play, still stunned me.
I’d paid sharp attention when Justin and Robert had had their lessons. I knew the letters of notes now. Soon I’d play a song. But for now, I set my fingers silently on the keys, closed my eyes, and remembered how Benedict had played, so movingly, so deep. I pretended that I was he and playing how he played.
The air about me stirred, causing tendrils of my hair to brush at my neck, and I slowly opened my eyes.
“Why, Miss Ann, that is the most beautiful song I ever heard.” Stephen leaned upon the edge of the piano, his face close to mine, his bright eyes smiling.
“Now I know you for the scoundrel you are. I did not play a note.” Still, I had to smile.
“I beg to disagree, Miss Ann. I had only to look upon your face to see how beautifully you played. The heart of music is not always in the striking of a note.”
“Is that similar to saying that the heart of a man is not always in the words he speaks?” I replied tartly, not about to fall to his smooth words.
Stephen leaned his head back and roared with laughter. “I do believe I have been soundly put in my place. And if I had more time, I would let you do it again. You are a delight. But for now, I have a favor to ask.”
The Mistress of Trevelyan Page 18
