by Tia Siren
On her third Monday morning as their new mother, she woke to the usual morning scent of coffee. Andrew never woke her before he left and he was not talkative when he came home. He had not told her about any of his days or the creations he was working on in his business though it was something she would have been interested in hearing.
Andrew never discouraged Ella from reading her books. In fact, Myrtle had even bought her a new one when she finished Sherlock Holmes A Study in Scarlet. It was a fantastic book and had become one of Ella’s all-time favorites. She was looking forward to reading more about the British detective at 221B Baker Street. So far, she had only had a chance to read to Carl. The other boys refused to sit long enough to listen.
This morning, she heard a crash downstairs and immediately jumped up from her bed. She pulled on her robe and slid her small feet into a pair of slippers Myrtle had also purchased for her. She hurried down the hallways to the den and pushed the door open.
“Raymie? Peter? Fred? Carl?” She said each of their names, even though there was no one in the room. She glanced around for hiding places and scanned the curtains and furniture for little feet or tufts of hair so she could see where they were. In the corner of the room, a large vase had fallen to the floor, shattering it into a million pieces. She was instantly afraid, thinking of what her father would have done if something like that had happened in his house.
But she wasn’t caring for her father’s house anymore. She was caring for her husband’s, a man she barely knew, even two and a half weeks in.
“Oh dear,” she said loudly so that small listening ears would hear. “Oh, my! Andrew will be so unhappy about this. I can’t imagine who could have done it!” She silently picked up a small hard ball that was still rocking in place under a table near the smashed vase. She slipped the ball into her pocket. “Oh dear.” She shook her head. “Could this have been a ghost? Oh, how will I tell Andrew there is a ghost in this house!”
She heard the sound of a small gasp from the other side of the open door into the foyer. It was followed by several muffled sounds of “shhh”.
“What will I do? A ghost!” She said again, directing her words toward the doorway.
“Oh! Oh, oh, is there really a ghost? Is there, Miss Ella?” Carl came running into the room and threw himself into Ella’s skirt, balling it up and pressing his face into it. She put one hand on his back and patted him.
“Shut your bazoo, Carl!” Raymie said in an irritating voice, also coming into the room. “You know it wasn’t a ghost! She’s just trying to scare you.”
Ella shook her head. “I wasn’t trying to scare him, Raymie. I was just trying to draw you, four boys, out. You did this, didn’t you? With this?” She pulled the ball out of her pocket and held it out for them to see. The other two boys were poking their heads around to see what she was doing. They came in the room, looking distraught and threw themselves on the couch. Peter hung his head, his small cheeks red. Freddie pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. Raymie was the one who appeared most upset, crossing his arms over his chest and plopping down on a big high-backed chair sitting next to the couch.
“I get bored around here!” He said angrily.
“I’m sure you do. You should be in school.”
“We don’t need to go to school!” He said abruptly. “We won’t need that when we’re working here on this farm.”
“Surely your papa will let you go to the schoolhouse if you want to.”
“I don’t want to!” Raymie exclaimed, giving her a furious look.
“You don’t?”
“He does, too!” Peter said, quietly. Raymie glared at him. “Well, you do, Raymie. I heard you telling Freddie even just a couple of days ago. You said you wanted to learn to read, and you were mad because you don’t know how.”
“I do know how to read!”
“No, you don’t.” Peter shook his head.
“You don’t know how to read, Raymie?” Ella was surprised and disappointed. She would have thought that at least the oldest one would have learned that by now. “It’s very important that you know how to read. Especially since you want to work on the farm.”
“I don’t want to work on the farm!” Suddenly Raymie stood up; his small fists clenched and his eyes filled with tears. Ella’s heart broke looking up at him. She took a step closer and reached out to him, but he pulled away. “I want to work in a bank! It’s not fair!” He bolted out of the room and up the stairs. A few moments later, the door to his room was slammed shut.
Ella was left in shock. He was so embarrassed. She hadn’t meant to embarrass him. Freddie gave her a smile and walked out without a word. Shortly afterward, Peter followed, never taking his eyes off the floor. Both boys went up the steps.
Ella looked down at Carl, who was staring up at her. “He’s mad,” Carl said.
Ella nodded and looked at the stairs. “Yes, I think he is mad.”
She leaned down and picked the little boy up, resting him on her hip. He was too big to carry like a baby, but he held on to her as if he was one. She carried him up the stairs and opened Raymie’s door without knocking. She set Carl down and surveyed the scene. Peter and Freddie were simply sitting on Raymie’s bed while the young boy pressed his face into his pillow. Carl immediately went to the bed, climbed up on it and covered his oldest brother with a hug, resting his cheek on Raymie’s back and wrapping his small arms around his brother as much as he could.
Raymie didn’t move, accepting his little brother’s love without a word. Again, Ella felt her heart melt for the boys and their obvious love for each other. She went to the bed and sat in an open area, placing one hand on Raymie’s shoulder.
“I am so sorry I embarrassed you, Raymie. Please don’t be upset anymore. I tell you, you can be happy about one thing.”
“What’s that?” Raymie’s voice was muffled but sounded hopeful.
“You can learn to read any time in your life. I have three younger brothers at home, and I taught them all to read. My papa thought that reading and having an education was very important, even for a girl! So he taught me and I taught them. I can teach you, too, if you want.”
Raymie sat up but didn’t look at her. Carl transferred himself to Ella, draping himself over her back and wrapping his arms around her neck. She lifted one hand and patted his arms instinctively, feeling a great deal of affection for the little tyke.
“I can learn to read?”
“Of course, you have just as much…” Something behind Raymie on the wall caught her attention, and she focused on it. All four boys looked up at her face when she suddenly stopped talking. “What is this?” She mumbled to herself. She stood up, taking Carl with her as he wrapped his legs around her waist so she could piggy-back him. She carried him to the wall and bent down. There was a bit of wallpaper torn away. She lifted her fingers, grabbed it and pulled it so that it ripped some more. She heard a gasp behind her and Freddie spoke up.
“That’s wallpaper Papa put up just for Raymie. It’s his favorite color. He’s gonna be mad.”
Ella continued to rip the wallpaper off, feeling a bit of nervous excitement flow through her. She lowered Carl to the floor and ripped even more down. Behind the green wallpaper, there were pages and pages of newspaper. The section that had caught her eye read in big bold letters Jim Smiley and his Jumping Frog. Someone had covered the wall with an old New York Saturday Press from 1865. She was shocked that it was still readable after all the years that had passed.
“We can start now if you like.” She looked back to smile at the four boys. Their eyes had widened, and they looked at the wall curiously. “I can read this story to you. It’s a very interesting story about a man and his jumping frog. Would you like for me to read it to you?”
“Yes, yes, Miss Ella!” Freddie was the first one to respond, and his brothers followed suit quickly. Even Raymie had regained his composure and came over to look at the words on the wall.
An hour later, Andrew came through
the front door and stood still for a moment. The house was quiet. It was never quiet. He looked around suspiciously, noticing the broken vase that had been partially cleaned up. He glanced down the hallway and then up the stairs nervously.
“Boys?” he called out and took the stairs up two at a time. The first door to the right was Raymie’s so he swung it open.
He didn’t expect to see his four sons sitting on the floor surrounding Ella. Carl was once again on her back. She appeared to be reading from papers they had ripped down from the wall.
“What is going on?”
Freddie was the first one on his feet to run toward his father.
“Papa!” he called out excitedly. “Mama Ella is teaching us to read! She says we don’t have to go to the schoolhouse if we don’t want to and that she’ll teach us right here. But I want to go to the schoolhouse, papa, that’s where other kids are! And Raymie wants to be a banker, papa! He does!”
With that, the other three boys approached their father and started talking all at once.
“Whoa, my sons!” Andrew laughed. He gestured for Ella to come to him, as well. She got to her feet and approached slowly. He noticed she looked nervous and shook his head, reaching out to touch her cheek and brush a loose strand of hair away from her face, gently pushing it behind her ear.
“Is this true? You would like to teach my sons? You don’t mind being here with them all the time?”
She shook her head. “Not at all, Andrew. I would be proud to teach them. They are lovely boys, you know.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You are the first to say that, my dear. I am glad. I am very glad.” He pulled her into a hug that she didn’t expect. She put her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his chest with a sigh. Tingles covered her when he whispered in her ear. “Do you think you can take a grouchy old man and fall in love with him, too?”
She looked up at his deep green eyes and had to admit it. “Yes,” she said. “I think I already have.”
“I have been distant,” he said in a low voice.
“I have been watching. You are a good father and a good man with plenty to be concerned about. You work hard for these boys. They know it and so do I. I am proud to be here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m so happy to hear that, Ella. I really am.”
He lowered his head and gave her a kiss, which she returned. It was the warmest, best kiss she had ever had. And it was only the beginning.
*****
THE END
Regency Romance Collection
The Bet of the Season – A Regency Romance
''Lord and Lady Ashington and their daughter Emily,'' the announcer shouted.
Emily stood with her parents at the top of the marble staircase and looked down into the ballroom. She noticed how everyone seemed to be looking at her.
''I hadn't expected there to be so many people,'' she whispered to her mother.
''As you know, your father and I always host the first ball of the season. We like to invite as many people as we possibly can. We find it gets the season off to a rousing start. This is the first ball you have been to here since your coming out. It's going to be a splendid occasion.''
''It all looks very spectacular,'' Emily whispered, just before her father led them down the stairs to their eager guests.
When they had reached the bottom of the stairs, Emily's mother turned to her, ''there are several eligible young men here this evening my dear. Please don't wander off with your cousins before I have had a chance to introduce you to some of them.'' Emily looked around, curious to see who her mother could possibly mean.
She was very familiar with her surroundings. Although this was the first ball she had been allowed to attend at Priory Manor, she had spent many a childhood hour in the ballroom with her sister and cousins, hosting pretend balls. Emily remembered how exasperated her mother had been when she had borrowed her pearls to dress up in. ''They are priceless, and you are swinging them around like you found them in a back alley,'' she'd told her.
The ballroom was the largest in the County of Yorkshire. Priory Hall had been the seat of the Ashingtons since the days of King John. It was one of the finest stately homes in the land. Emily was amazed at how colorful the event was. At her debutante ball the previous summer, all the young ladies had worn white. That was behind her now, and she was able to go to balls where the ladies wore splendid colors. She had chosen to wear a striking gold muslin dress with gilt edges and silk flowers woven into it.
''Cousin Emily,'' Beatrice exclaimed, enthusiastically. ''You look stunning. I adore your gown. Such beautiful silken flowers. And your tiara of pearls is simply exquisite. You are the most amazingly beautiful woman here this evening.'' She looked at her cousin, who she adored, and tried to see what was different about her this evening. Emily was tall and slender, and Beatrice thought her dress showed off her tiny waist to perfection. She noticed Emily's Mediterranean blue eyes sparkling under the light of the giant chandelier, her blonde hair falling beautifully to her shoulders in perfectly manicured locks. Then Beatrice realized. It was her makeup that was different. In particular her lips. Emily had voluptuous lips, as perfect as was humanly possible and this evening she had used lip rouge. She looked stunning.
''Nonsense cousin, if anyone is the Belle of the Ball, it is you.”
''Well then, let these two beautiful women go and find themselves, two handsome princes. There are so many unattached men to choose from, we'd better hasten or we will run out of time.”
''Oh cousin, I would like nothing more than to go with you but mummy has asked me to say here. Apparently she wants to introduce me to some eligible young men of her choosing. I am terrified. She has such poor taste. Every man she points out to me is so dreadfully dull. I am young, and I want someone handsome and dashing, not someone twice my age.''
''Well then, I will go and search for us while you are meeting these dull creatures. Come and find me when you have finished. You never know, I might have some success.''
Emily watched her walk down the side of the dance floor and strike up a conversation with a tall looking gentleman of similar age.
''Emily, please come over here,'' her mother said. ''I would like to present the Duke of Bedford.''
The Duke took Emily's hand and pressed it to his lips. ''Enchanted,'' he said.
''My Lord, it is a pleasure to meet you,'' Emily replied as she curtsied. She looked at the man her mother presumably found to be of sufficient breeding to contend for her hand. She was pleasantly surprised. The Duke was not old and stuffy. He was young and handsome. ''Miss Emily, would you do me the honor dancing with me?''
Emily was keen to dance with the handsome Duke. She was relieved it was a country dance and not one of the more intricate dances. A country dance was simple and would allow her maximum time with him. A lot of other dances called for many more partner changes. She'd never seen the point of being asked to dance by a man, only to spend the rest of the dance in the arms of several other men.
As they undertook the required steps, Emily studied him. He was, at least, six feet tall, and he had a very elegant Roman nose. His eyes were green, and his hair was dark. How on earth did such a young man become a Duke, she wondered? She'd always imagined Dukes to be old. Emily recognized his uniform and was impressed to note he was an officer in the Dragoons, one of the bravest regiment in the British Army.
''Thank you, Miss Emily, you are indeed a very fine dancer. You have learned the art well. Now I promised to return you to your mother. I believe she has some more guests she would like you to meet.''
*****
''She really is the most impressive young lady. Her beauty knows no bounds,'' Robert Masters said.
The Duke nodded in agreement. ''She is indeed an amazing creature. Any man would give all he is worth to take her hand in marriage. What do you say Charles?''
''I say, if she were in an auction only the richest men in the land need attend. She is a very fine woman I agree.''
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Robert Masters, The Duke of Bedford and Charles Carrington were standing in the corner of the ballroom looking on as Emily endured a dance with one of her mother's less inspired choices.
''You mentioned an auction, Charles. That really is an interesting thought.'' Robert said.
''Yes, that's it,'' the Duke exclaimed. ''We all three admire her. Any one of us would take her as a wife at the drop of a hat. Instead of competing with each other and risking our friendship, why don't we three place bids for her. The highest bidder earns the right to court and marry her ahead of the lower bidders. We'll bid in five rounds. The last bid to be the final word. What do you say?''
''A bid a week for five weeks, Robert said.''
''Agreed,'' said Charles.
*****
''Emily, Emily, the most terrible thing has happened.''
''Beatrice, what on earth can be so terrible on this magnificent occasion?''
''I hardly want to tell you. It is so shameful.''
''Really, Cousin. Tell me.''
''Alright,'' Beatrice took a deep breath. ''I believe the three men over there,'' she nodded her head clandestinely, ''have decided to buy you?''
''What? What do you mean, buy me? I'm not for sale.''
''No, sorry, I don't mean buy, I mean bid for you.''
''Really, Beatrice, you are making no sense whatsoever.''
Beatrice was so enthusiastic to tell her cousin what she'd overheard, she had lost all clarity of thought. She took another deep breath and tried again. ''I heard the three men over there talking about you. They all like you, in fact, they would all marry you at the drop of a hat. The man in the uniform said it would be a pity if their friendship were to be spoiled by them falling out over you. To avoid this, they have decided to place bids. The highest bidder will win the sole chance to approach you, and they assume marry you. There are going to be five rounds of bidding, one each week.'' Beatrice let out her breath, relieved she had managed to convey the story accurately this time.
