“Frankly,” Jake continued, “I find it kind of refreshing.”
“What?” Marty asked as they moved toward the sandstone structure.
“That we don’t have any pretenses between us. We both know why we’re here. I like that.”
For a moment, guilt washed over Marty. She managed to sidestep most of the reprehensive feelings, but one lingered. She had lied a good deal through the course of her life. Well, perhaps lie was too harsh a term; she often did nothing more serious than leave out important details—especially if they might get her into trouble. Marty had also been given to making mountains out of molehills, despite Hannah’s attempts to wrest it out of her. But now . . . now she felt herself falling right back into her old ways. A lie had brought her here. Her life with this stranger would be a lie. The world would believe one thing, while in truth they would be another. It would be her greatest exaggeration.
“You don’t think this is wrong, do you?” she asked without thinking.
Jake stopped. “You havin’ second thoughts?”
Marty pushed down her concerns and smiled. “No,” she lied, afraid it would be the first of many. “You?”
Jake laughed. “Hardly. I just wanna get this over with and get on with my life.”
The door to the rectory opened just then, and a smiling dark-suited man welcomed them. “Ah, the happy couple. Come, come. I have the witnesses ready and the arrangements have all been made. Soon you will be joined in wedded bliss.”
Marty looked away lest he see her roll her eyes. Wedded bliss indeed.
Chapter 5
Marty settled once more into the carriage seat. She was married. She stared down at the ring on her finger. It was a lovely piece of jewelry, a large emerald surrounded by smaller diamonds.
“I hope you aren’t disappointed in the ring,” Jake said.
She studied him for a moment. There was such a look of hopefulness in his expression that she couldn’t have admitted to such an emotion even if she had felt it. Which she didn’t. “Not in the least. I’m stunned. I’ve never had anything so grand. My other wedding ring was a simple gold band.”
“I was going to buy you just that, but Mr. Morgan, the owner of the bank, insisted that I purchase something bigger and better,” he explained. “He gave me a bonus, in fact, for just such a purpose.”
“It’s lovely and fits nicely.” She pulled her gloves back on and smiled. “Almost as if it were meant for me. I will cherish it—thank you.” Discomfort edged her emotions, and Marty quickly changed the subject. “So tell me about the place we are to live.”
Jake shrugged. “There again, it wasn’t what I would have picked out, but Mr. Morgan insisted. Fact is, it came with the job.”
Apparently this Mr. Morgan had a way of bullying people into doing things they ordinarily wouldn’t do. Marty made a mental note to remember that name.
“So is it all that bad?”
“No.” He eased back against the seat, causing his hat to slide forward. He straightened again and adjusted the brim. “It’s beautiful. It’s grand and glorious, and in the words of Mrs. Morgan, ‘It maintains the essence of elegance.’” His poor attempt to mimic the woman made Marty smile. Jake shook his head. “Much more so than I would have ever wanted. Mr. Morgan says that a man in my position has to live the part. For myself, I would just as soon live in a less pretentious neighborhood and save the money. That way, one day, I could buy my own idea of the perfect place.”
She nodded. “So we’re to live in a grand house. Is it very large?”
“I recall the paper work saying something about eight thousand square feet,” he replied. “Seems like you could fit five or six families in there.”
Marty’s eyes widened. Her home in Texas had more than enough room and wasn’t anywhere near that size. “Oh my. I suppose it will be a lot of work to keep up.”
“That’s why we have people to work for us.”
“People?” She frowned. “Oh yes, I remember you said you had a staff to keep the house.”
“You’ll get to meet them soon enough. The house came with servants—again, something Mr. Morgan insisted on and not at all my idea. Look, we’re just now arriving.”
Marty glanced out the window at the three-story redbrick and stone house. There was a large porch on the front, some six steps up from the ground. An impressive turret stood to the right of the porch and a roofed balcony was atop the porch itself.
“The house is made of Colorado red sandstone,” Jake announced. “The rest is local brick.”
“It’s quite lovely . . . and big.” Marty quickly took in the dry brown grass contrasting with several large green pines. “I had thought there would be snow,” she said.
“There was. We had a white Christmas, but a warm southwesterly wind melted it. Don’t worry, we’ll no doubt see some more.”
She smiled. “I’ve never seen very deep snow. We only had small amounts in Texas. Well, there was one snow that proved worse than most, but even so, it melted quickly.”
He nodded. “I think I know the one you mean. Well, around here you can never tell what to expect. The mountains make for interesting weather.”
“They are beautiful . . . the mountains,” Marty remarked. “I’ve never seen anything like them. My friends in Colorado Springs hoped I would return and go with them to the top of Pikes Peak. A local carriage company treats sight-seekers to the adventure. It takes all day, and at the top, they say you can hardly breathe. I can hardly breathe at this level.”
“Altitude can be kind of hard on a body. We’re not that high here, so it should be less troublesome. Even so, after a time you’ll adjust.” The carriage stopped, and Jake reached for the door before Samson could open it for them. “Come along, Mrs. Wythe. I’m anxious to show you your new home.”
Marty allowed Jake to help her from the carriage. His hands held her waist for only as much time as was needed to plant her feet firmly on the ground. His familiarity surprised her, but Marty said nothing as he guided her to the front door.
A distinguished-looking gentleman, probably fifty or more years of age, opened the door and stood waiting. “Welcome home, sir. Madam.”
“Marty, this is Brighton, my butler and valet. He sees to most of my needs.”
“How do you do, Mr. Brighton.”
The man’s expression remained sober. “Madam, it is my pleasure to meet you.”
“And this is Mrs. Landry,” Jake continued.
Marty hadn’t even noticed the three women who’d positioned themselves just in front of a grand oak staircase. The oldest of the three stepped forward. “I’m Mrs. Landry.” She was an unassuming woman with a neatly coiffed head of gray hair. She wore a dark blue gown with a high collar. “I oversee the staff here, including Mr. Brighton, although he doesn’t believe that to be the case.” The older man gave a harrumph but said nothing.
“Mrs. Landry,” Marty said, nodding. “I’m Martha Ols . . . Wythe, but everyone calls me Marty.”
“I shall call you Mrs. Wythe,” the woman said, giving the slightest smile. “We all shall call you Mrs. Wythe.” She turned to the other two women. “This is Kate.” The short redheaded maid bobbed a curtsy while Mrs. Landry continued the introduction. “Kate works with me to keep the house in order. She’s fairly new but learning quickly.”
“Very nice to meet you, Kate.”
“Ma’am.” The girl looked to Mrs. Landry as if further explanation were needed.
Mrs. Landry cleared her throat. “Yes, well, Kate will assist you as lady’s maid until you can secure your own hire. Mr. Wythe let us know that you would not be bringing a woman with you.”
Marty laughed without meaning to. “No, I don’t have a maid of my own.” Mrs. Landry frowned, as if this announcement lessened her opinion of Marty. “I’m really quite capable,” Marty continued.
Jake interrupted. “You’ll need a maid. The parties, teas, and other social functions will require you to dress for the occasion. I’m told women
often change clothes as many as six times a day. You’ll need a woman who can dress your hair and help you with your clothes and bath.”
She tried her best not to look surprised by this news. Changing clothes more than twice in one day required a special event back in Texas! Marty supposed she should have figured on such a thing, but since she’d been old enough to dress herself, she’d been doing pretty much just that. The only time she’d had help was when she was first learning to wear a corset, and even then Hannah had taught her how to lace herself in after a time.
“I’ll have the employment service send over some women for you to interview,” Mrs. Landry continued. “Kate will need to return to her household duties as soon as possible, as I cannot manage this house on my own and Brighton believes a manservant should not have to attend to dusting the high chandeliers and washing the windows, although he is the best candidate for the tasks.”
This time Brighton refused to remain silent. “I explained to Mrs. Landry that it is not expected of a proper butler. I trained with the best of instructors as a young man in England. I will not have this hoyden of a housekeeper poison your mind against me.”
“Hoyden? You dare call me a hoyden, you English-trained ninny? You pride yourself on going all the way to London to learn how to help a gentleman into a jacket or to open a door.”
“Yes, and in England it is the butler who runs the household, madam. Not the housekeeper.”
“Well, in case you didn’t know it, Mr. Brighton, this isn’t England. I can fetch a map if you doubt me.”
Jake snorted and Marty turned to find him completely amused by the tirade. He shrugged at her questioning gaze. “I don’t even bother to go to plays or operas. I can get all the entertainment I need here at home just watching these two.”
“Such codswallop,” Brighton declared. “Sir, if you need me, I shall be polishing the silver.”
“At least he stoops to help me with that,” Mrs. Landry spouted at Brighton’s back. “I guess the English deem that an acceptable job for men.”
Jake didn’t bother to hide his grin. “See what I mean?”
Marty could only nod in agreement. In Brighton’s absence, Mrs. Landry moved to the other woman. “This is our cook, Mrs. Standish. Up until now she worked alone, but Mr. Wythe has arranged for an assistant. She will arrive in three days—on the twenty-third.”
“I would imagine Mrs. Wythe is quite exhausted,” Jake declared, helping Marty from her coat. “Why don’t we show her to her room.”
Mrs. Landry nodded. Jake placed Marty’s coat and his own on a nearby chair. He took off his hat and put that atop the coats before offering Marty his arm once again. “I hope you will enjoy living here.” Mrs. Landry motioned Kate to see to the discarded wraps.
Marty looked around at the cream and blue colors of the entryway. “If this is an example of things to come, I’m sure I will.” Although she was still rather stupefied by the jousting with words between the housekeeper and butler.
They began climbing the grand staircase, with Mrs. Landry leading the way. “As I mentioned in the carriage,” Jake stated when they were nearly to the top of the stairs, “I have set up a bank account for you. Mrs. Landry has one as well for the running of the household, so you needn’t share your funds.”
“That really wasn’t necessary,” Marty replied. “Thomas and I always shared everything. I’m sure I could just come to you if I need something.”
Jake nodded. “I understand, however, you will see the advantage of this soon enough. There’s no need for you to check in with me and account for every penny you spend. First you will need an entirely new wardrobe. As I mentioned earlier, I had Mrs. Landry arrange for the dressmaker to arrive next week. Mrs. Landry tells me the woman knows exactly what you will need for your debut into Denver society, since she supplies clothing to many of the wealthiest matrons.” Marty noted that his Texas drawl was once again carefully controlled. “Some gowns will have to be ordered from abroad, I’m told, but the dressmaker will see to all of that.”
“Am I to have enough gowns to change six times a day?” Marty couldn’t keep the teasing from her tone.
Jake grinned. “That and more. Mr. Morgan insisted I could not let you appear less than what your station demands.”
“Sounds like Mr. Morgan insists on an awful lot,” she muttered.
Jake didn’t bother to respond but simply said, “I have also given you enough to do whatever you’d like with the house. If you prefer different rugs or draperies—even furniture—you should feel free to arrange for it. I have no preference. All that you see was in place when I arrived.”
“I suppose Mr. Morgan was responsible for that, as well?” She met his amused expression.
“No, actually, Mrs. Morgan sent some of her people here to oversee the decorating. They did a nice job—don’t you think?”
Marty glanced around as they made their way down the hall. There were beautiful carpets atop highly polished hardwood floors. Paintings graced the walls, and at the end of the hall a huge window was trimmed in billowing multicolored damask drapes. Why would she even consider changing it? It was all so very beautiful.
“They did, indeed.”
“This will be your room,” Mrs. Landry announced when they reached a door on the right. She led the way into the massive bedroom and stepped aside for Marty to inspect it.
A large canopied bed graced the space to Marty’s left. On either side were beautifully carved side tables with fresh flowers. Marty had to smile. Jake had arranged for fresh flowers in the dead of winter. That was most considerate.
Opposite the bed, a beautifully tiled fireplace offered a welcoming fire to warm the room. The mahogany mantel held several knickknacks, including the statuette of a woman in Grecian fashion, a collection of cherubs surrounded by gold framing, and several other pieces that would require closer inspection.
“As you can see for yourself, you have a comfortable sitting area.” Mrs. Landry moved to the side of the hearth. “If you need the fire built up, simply use this and someone will come to tend it.” She showed Marty the servant pull.
Noise arose just beyond Mrs. Landry, and she turned to open a door not far from the fireplace. “This is your bathing and dressing room. Samson has just now deposited your trunks, and I have a warm bath waiting for you.”
Marty looked at Jake and shook her head. “I had no idea.”
He laughed. “I said it was a big house.”
She explored the bathing and dressing area, an incredible room of marble and brass. There were large armoires, a chest of drawers, brass rails for hanging clothes, as well as a large tub for bathing and a sink and vanity where Marty could sit and fuss with her appearance for as long as she liked.
“Indoor plumbing, I see.”
“Yes, we’re thoroughly modern, although I didn’t arrange for a telephone to be put in. I wasn’t all that keen on people calling me at all hours,” Jake admitted.
“I can understand. This is far more than I need,” she said, shaking her head again. “I never expected anything so wonderful. We were still using a pump and outhouse in Texas.” She smiled at Jake, who gave her a wink.
Mrs. Landry ignored the comment. “I’m afraid the fainting couch did not arrive in time, but is expected next week.”
“I shall endeavor not to faint until then,” Marty said most seriously before breaking into a giggle. She worried only a moment that Jake would be offended, but when she heard him chuckle, she relaxed.
Mrs. Landry ignored their merriment. “I will have Kate unpack your things and press them. Meanwhile, I will assist you into your bath.” She went to the far wall, where another servant pull awaited. She signaled for Kate, then turned to face Marty and Jake. “Mr. Wythe, would you like me to show Mrs. Wythe your quarters, as well?”
Marty flushed and looked away. Perhaps the servants hadn’t been informed of the arrangements. Jake seemed unconcerned, however. He moved to where Mrs. Landry stood by yet another door and m
otioned Marty to join them.
“This small passage adjoins your rooms to mine. There is a lock, as you can see, so that no one can disturb you.” He opened the door and moved quickly to the end of the short corridor. Opening the far end exposed light from yet another large room. Marty walked into the expanse and marveled at the space.
It was a decidedly male room, done up in dark greens and heavy wood furniture. A desk stood against the wall at the far end of the room, and Marty could see from the look of it that Jake used it regularly for business. On the wall were oil paintings of Texas-styled cattle scenes as well as a stiff, but obviously much used, coiled rope. How strange to find it nailed to the wall of a bedroom.
For a moment Marty imagined herself back in Texas. She had nearly forgotten that Jake was a Texan. Spying a few books with ranch-related topics, a rather large yellowed map of Texas spread atop a nearby table, and an impressive bronze statue of a horse and rider, Marty knew she wasn’t likely to erase Texas from this man’s mind anytime soon.
“It seems very nice. Is it my imagination or is it smaller than my room?”
“A little bit,” Jake admitted. “But it was the room I wanted when I moved in. The larger room seemed to be much more suited for . . . a . . . couple. I believe this was the nursery before I arranged for it to be redone.”
Marty looked away in discomfort and pretended to study the bronze statue. “Very nice.”
Kate appeared just then, and Mrs. Landry instructed her regarding Marty’s trunks, while Marty could only look on. The two disappeared into the dressing room, leaving Marty and Jake alone. She saw the amusement in Jake’s expression and couldn’t help but question him.
“You look rather pleased with yourself.”
“I’m just enjoying your surprise at everything.” A clock chimed and he checked his pocket watch. “But now I will have to leave you in Mrs. Landry’s capable hands. I have a meeting to attend. I will return to join you for supper. Enjoy the house, Mrs. Wythe.”
A Sensible Arrangement Page 5
