Unnoticed

by Amanda Deed

  God loves me, even if Price doesn’t. Even if my sisters don’t. Even if my mother doesn’t. Jane had to remind herself several times each day of this new truth she had discovered. With every reminder, her confidence in it grew, and her family’s rejection stung less. Although she and Papa had made amends, he remained distant, even if not as much as before. Jane supposed it would take time to change a long-held habit, but it gave her great comfort to know he was there.

  Aunt Ruby, of course, was delighted to learn that Jane had asked the Lord to fill her with His love. With her aunt, Jane could discuss those precious verses of Scripture she had copied so many times, and the conversations brought them to life even more.

  Jane looked at her sisters now with a new peace. Amid the confusion going on around her, she remained undaunted. When it came down to it, nothing—not the ball, Miss Anderson, Price, her sisters or stepmother—had to ruin her life unless she allowed it. In a sudden swell of well-being she offered her sisters a genuine smile. ‘I hope you have a wonderful time at the ball tomorrow.’ She didn’t wait for a response, but swept past them and headed out to her room.

  The afternoon had begun to fade by the time Price finally headed out to the farm. Thankfully the sun set later now that spring had arrived and the air started to warm up again. He had locked the store a little earlier than usual. The fresh scent of pollen in the air, as he rode, stirred a sense of longing in him once again. Price hoped and prayed that Jane would be able to accept the truth, forgive him, and that they could make a life together.

  At the gate, he paused to gather his nerve-strained emotions. As he unhitched the latch, he saw a figure riding toward him on horseback from within the field. Price squinted in the golden afternoon light, trying to make out who approached. It certainly wasn’t the feminine form of Jane. Old Darcy perhaps? As the rider neared, Price became surprised to find Mr O’Reilly had come to greet him.

  ‘Well now, good day to you, Mr O’Reilly.’ Price tipped his hat to the man he hoped to call Father-in-law one day.

  O’Reilly, however, did not dismount, and no friendly greeting left his lips. Instead he scowled at him.

  Price’s hopes sank at the speed of water through a sieve.

  ‘What are ya doing here?’

  Price swallowed, uneasy. ‘I … I came to see Miss Jane.’

  ‘She doesn’t want to see you.’

  ‘If you’d just allow me to explain to her …’

  ‘Listen! You’ve hurt her enough. What makes you think I’ll let you come anywhere near her again?’ O’Reilly’s face was set like flint, cold and unrelenting. Angry even.

  ‘Mr O’Reilly, please. It’s not how it appears.’ Price had no idea how to convince him. ‘I just need a chance to explain.’

  ‘You should have explained from the beginning. You let her believe a lie. You duped us all.’

  Price stood there with his mouth open. O’Reilly not only sounded offended over Jane, but for himself as well. Price groaned internally. What a mess. ‘I didn’t lie, Mr O’Reilly. I swear to you.’

  His eyebrows rose at that, but Price suspected it to be a sign of disbelief. ‘No? Well, you sure didn’t tell us the truth.’

  Price couldn’t win. He’d kept certain details of his life quiet for a reason—a valid reason, too—but this didn’t make the slightest difference where the O’Reillys were concerned. ‘If I could—’

  ‘Good day, Mr Moreland. Be off with you.’ O’Reilly cut him off, unwilling to listen, pulled his horse’s head around and began to ride away at a canter.

  Price stood there with the gate latch in his hand, unsure whether to pursue the man, or walk away and try again another day. Frustration billowed within him like threatening clouds on a stormy horizon. He must make O’Reilly see, to give him a chance. Price cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered. ‘I’m not engaged to Miss Anderson.’

  He watched in desperate hope, but O’Reilly didn’t even look over his shoulder. Had he even heard?

  ‘Mr O’Reilly!’

  The man either didn’t catch the urgency in his voice, or was too stubborn to give him any mercy.

  ‘Bah.’ Price slammed his hand against the railing, sending a shock of pain through his arm. Then he turned and kicked at a sod of dirt, yelling into the air again. He crouched down with his head in his hands. What would he do? He refused to lose Jane in this manner. There must be another way. Dear God, please intervene. I love Jane. I love her so much.

  23

  Price stood on the river dock early on Friday morning, watching as men stowed Vi’s several trunks and bags aboard a paddle steamer. He smiled at her as she finished giving directions to Clark, who was the one burdened with the task of moving her luggage from the hotel to the steamer. Price had to hide his amusement over Clark’s willingness to please, even though Vi fussed too much over her belongings.

  ‘It is a pity you must leave so soon.’ Price told her with genuine disappointment. Vi’s presence in town had made him more homesick than ever.

  ‘But, as you say, it’s for the best.’ She tapped his arm with her slender fingers.

  ‘Regrettably, yes.’ Price had a better chance of sorting things out with Jane if Violet left the scene. ‘I’m sorry to send you off in this manner.’

  Vi let out a melodious laugh. ‘Never mind that, Price. I’m just sorry I messed everything up for you. I do hope you can win that lucky girl’s heart again.’

  ‘I’ll do my best.’ Price shrugged. There was no guarantee any of his ideas would work. ‘You will be all right, won’t you, my dear?’

  ‘Of course I’ll be all right,’ Vi scoffed at him. ‘Besides, I’ve had two lovely weeks here and now I might see a few more sights around the country before I return to New York. And I shan’t be lonely with Withers as my companion. We get along quite famously, you know.’ She leaned in and whispered behind her hand. ‘And you never know, I might find me a rugged Australian man who’s made his fortune by the sweat of his brow.’

  Price chuckled at her eager tone. ‘You never know, indeed.’

  A whistle blew indicating it was time for Violet to board the paddle steamer. She grasped his hands and looked at him with an earnest gaze. ‘Do come home, Price. Your family misses you so much.’

  Price lifted her gloved hand and placed an affectionate kiss on her fingers. ‘Perhaps I will, Vi.’ He tapped the breast pocket of his coat. ‘And thank you for everything.’

  ‘Except for breaking your girl’s heart,’ she finished.

  ‘Except for that.’ Price grinned ruefully.

  ‘So long, then, dear.’ She waved as she minced toward the boat, Miss Withers joining her at the ramp.

  ‘Goodbye, Vi.’

  With a heavy heart, Price returned to his store and opened for business for the day. He still had no idea how to contact Jane. Perhaps if he hovered around town and waited for her to appear on one of her rare errands, he might be able to speak to her. How long would that take? The best alternative would be to slip a note to Mrs Ferguson at church on Sunday. That is, if she remained loyal to his cause. For all he knew, the cook hated him, too.

  Soon, the busy stream of men needing to be shaved or cut kept him occupied for many hours. With a town ball looming, everybody wanted to look their best. Price even had several customers ask how to make their smile brighter. To most of them he recommended a reliable tooth powder and a vigorous brushing, which they could accomplish at home. A few, however, appeared to have never brushed their teeth in their life, at least, not in the recent weeks. Them, Price invited into his surgery and gave their teeth a good scraping to remove the build-up of brown scale.

  The continuous buzz and talk of the ball sank Price deeper into despondency. If only it were possible to escort Jane to the masquerade, dressed in the best finery money could buy. He wanted to dance with her, show the whole town where his heart belonged and the bea
uty they had for so long ignored. But he knew of no opportunity to get near her until after the event. There must be a means he could devise.

  His hopes lifted when Mrs O’Reilly made a surprise entry into his shop, her two daughters behind her. Price strained to see behind them, hoping for a glimpse of Jane. But it was a false wish. She did not accompany them.

  He had just finished cutting a young lad’s hair into the latest style and Patrick was sweeping up the discarded locks. Jane’s stepmother greeted him, looking formidable as always, but wearing a munificent, pious kind of smile. ‘Good day, Mr Moreland.’

  Price contemplated making a sarcastic comment regarding her teeth, but he swallowed the impulse. It would be better to stay on her good side if he wanted a chance with Jane. He offered her a very polite bow. ‘To what do I owe this honour, Mrs O’Reilly?’

  ‘I wonder if you have any plans this evening.’

  Price had no excuse to offer. If only he had a prior engagement to plead, but he didn’t, and he suspected she was aware of that. ‘None at present, ma’am.’

  Mrs O’Reilly cleared her throat. ‘Mr Jones, the leader of our fundraising committee, is in bed with the influenza. He intended to give an address tonight on the purpose of the ball, details of the hospital, and a thank you to the folk who have supported the event. Would you be gracious enough to fill in for him?’

  Price didn’t know what to say for a moment. He was astounded that this woman even spoke to him, let alone asked him to take an honorary role in the fundraiser. ‘I have no time to prepare a speech.’

  ‘Never mind that.’ Mrs O’Reilly swatted a hand in the air, dismissing his excuse. Then she fished around in her reticule and brought out a folded piece of paper. ‘I have a copy of Mr Jones’s speech right here. I collected it from his wife this morning. All you have to do is read it.’

  Price eyed her, wondering if he might be able to bargain with her. There was no harm in trying. He took the speech from her offered hand. ‘I will be happy to do as you ask, if you will in turn grant me an interview with Miss Jane.’

  Mrs O’Reilly laughed, a scornful sound, although her grin was wide. ‘But that’s not up to me, Mr Moreland. Jane will have none of you, and nothing I say will change her mind. She can be quite stubborn like that, you know.’

  Price tried not to frown. He suspected the woman did not intend in the slightest to convince Jane to see him. So much for bargaining. ‘Well, will you at least inform her that Miss Anderson is not my fiancée and never was to begin with?’ Price preferred to tell her himself, but since he wasn’t allowed near her, he had to try something.

  A spark of interest flashed in Mrs O’Reilly’s eyes. ‘Oh, is that so? Of course, I shall tell her. And you will give the address, yes?’

  ‘It will be my pleasure, Mrs O’Reilly.’ Price let out a short sigh. Finally, finally Jane would learn the truth.

  ‘Until this evening then, Mr Moreland.’ Mrs O’Reilly inclined her head. ‘Come, girls, we have things to do.’

  Price watched them saunter off up the street, chatting between themselves. Maybe, just maybe, he could sort things out with Jane before long. With renewed optimism, Price treated his next customer to an excellent haircut and a close shave, while commenting on the wonders of God’s creation. The gentleman entered the conversation with hearty agreement at first, but their discussion soon morphed into a spirited debate over Darwin’s Theory of Evolution. Other customers then joined as they entered the salon to wait for a trim. Even Patrick threw in his opinion occasionally.

  Price revelled in this stimulating diversion in his shop, and it seemed as though bare minutes had passed when another woman entered the salon. Price looked up from his work to see Mrs Hayley and her daughter standing in the doorway. With several men queued up for a cut or shave, Price did not stop, but continued to groom the gentleman before him. ‘What can I do for you ladies? I’m afraid there is rather a long wait.’

  ‘We would appreciate a short word, if that’s all right? Perhaps outside? It shan’t take long.’

  Price glanced up between strokes of the razor. ‘Well now, if you’ll wait until I’m finished with this fellow, that should be fine.’

  Mrs Hayley nodded. ‘Very well. We shall wait out the front.’ The two ladies stepped out again, the doorbell jingling as they went.

  ‘Popular today, Mr Moreland?’ The soap-lathered gentleman quipped.

  Price grinned. ‘Everybody wants to look their best for the ball. And I daresay the request of those ladies will have something to do with the ball, too.’

  With a few more strokes of the blade, Price declared the job done. He handed the man a towel to wipe the remains of soap from his face. ‘Happy with that, sir?’

  The gentleman turned his head this way and that, examining his reflection. ‘Very good. Thank you.’

  Price jerked his chin toward Patrick. ‘Can you finish up here and then prepare Mr Harcombe for his shave?’

  Patrick nodded and Price wiped his hands before stepping out the front door.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt you, Mr Moreland. I didn’t realise you’d be quite so busy,’ Mrs Hayley began before Price could speak.

  ‘Neither did I.’ Price offered them a smile. ‘What did you wish to talk about?’

  Mrs Hayley looked awkward for a moment. ‘It is rather an odd request.’ She glanced sideways at her daughter, then back at Price. ‘We have heard you are taking the place of Mr Jones tonight in giving a speech at the fundraiser.’

  ‘That’s right.’ News travelled fast in this town.

  ‘Well, Master Alex, his son, was going to escort Rachel here to the ball tonight, but he has caught the influenza as well.’ Mrs Hayley’s gaze shifted to her daughter again, who stood in silence, her eyes wide. When Mrs Hayley looked back at Price, she arched an eyebrow and appeared to be suppressing a smile. ‘We thought, perhaps, you might bring her. It would be such a treat for her.’

  Price opened his mouth to protest, but Mrs Hayley continued.

  ‘We are aware of your betrothal to Miss Anderson, so there’s no danger of people assuming more to it than a friendly outing, is there? Besides, it is all a bit of harmless fun, is it not?’

  Price looked at them both. So, news of Vi’s departure had not been spread around as yet, and obviously Mrs O’Reilly hadn’t told anyone that he and Violet weren’t engaged. Why not let it slide for now? He would only end up being ogled at by every eligible girl in town again. ‘You are assuming I’m not escorting Miss Anderson to the ball.’

  Mrs Hayley’s face changed colour at that, embarrassed. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Mr Moreland. What an oversight on my part. Naturally I did assume that, since we thought until very recently you yourself weren’t even attending.’

  Price grinned. ‘Never mind, Mrs Hayley. You are quite right. I wasn’t. And Miss Anderson isn’t coming either.’

  Mrs Hayley looked relieved and Miss Hayley even more so.

  ‘I suppose it would be all right. But I must warn you, I don’t have a very good costume prepared.’

  Watching Miss Hayley, Price suspected she barely held herself back from clapping her hands or bouncing on her toes. Her mother seemed as amused as him. After arranging a time to meet, they said their goodbyes and Price went back into his shop, shaking his head. Good gracious. What have I gotten myself into?

  Jane was forced to watch the ridiculous chaos of her stepsisters preparing for the masquerade by the simple need they had for help. This evening every detail of their costumes had to be perfect. First, the stockings, then the drawers, the shift, a corset—which Jane laced up—the corset cover, and the petticoats, which Jane made sure were sitting correctly. After, the gauzy bodice and overskirt, and finally the wings to complete the fairy look. All the while, Moses perched on the iron frame of one of the beds and screeched intermittently, bobbing his head.

  ‘Jane, you must help me with my sho
es,’ Harriet demanded. ‘I simply cannot bend down to do it myself.’

  ‘Nor I,’ Nancy echoed her sister’s words.

  They both sat on the edge of the bed while Jane helped slip on their heeled shoes.

  ‘It’s such a pity you aren’t coming along, Janey-poo.’ Harriet’s statement came out with an exaggerated drawl, which dripped with insincerity. ‘Especially since Mr Moreland will be there.’

  Jane glanced up from her position kneeling on the floor and watched the two girls glance at each other and then erupt into silly giggles. She rolled her eyes heavenward. Jane preferred to stay home where no reminders of Price’s duplicity rose every time she chanced to look at him. ‘I shan’t miss it. I’ll be much too busy here.’

  ‘Jane!’ Mother’s voice rang through the house. She obviously needed help as well.

  Jane clambered up from the floor and hurried to her mother’s room, the girls’ mocking laughter following her down the short hallway. ‘Yes, Mother?’

  ‘Fix my hair, will you. And make it snappy. The girls will need theirs done, too.’

  Although Jane was never able to tame her own hair, she was adept at winding the others’ hair into tight coils, or braiding it neatly. She even had a good eye for placing flowers, hair jewels, bands or feathers. Not that any of them ever expressed gratitude for her work, but Jane had heard them receive compliments on their hair from time to time.

  Without a word, Jane set to work, pulling her stepmother’s dark hair up to the crown where she arranged it in large curls. She left several ringlets to hang down her neck and over her shoulder. She twisted a few curls around Mother’s face and tucked tiny jewels in amongst the curls on top of her head.

  Back in her sisters’ room, Jane met an over-excited bird, squawking ‘Plain Jane’ repeatedly, while the girls clutched their sides with laughter. In between his recitals, Moses mimicked Harriet’s high-pitched laugh and turned in circles on the bed frame. Jane refrained from scolding the cockatoo as it would serve no purpose. He would only get worse.