She’d packed her traveling case last night, but now she’d need to make adequate space for Rose’s drawing. Taking the drawing with her was a daring and frightening decision, but she’d have no opportunity to trace the design before leaving. She couldn’t let it be damaged in any way before her return. After carefully tucking it inside, she sat back on her heels, a self-satisfied grin on her lips. Joshua was going to be very pleased with her. In her last note to him, she’d told him to meet her in Bartlett. If he was wise, he’d be there waiting for her.
Beatrice’s worries mounted as she paced the length of the nursery while waiting for Ainslee. If the girl didn’t arrive soon, she’d miss the train. By the time she opened the nursery door, Beatrice’s anxiety had reached fever pitch.
She waved the girl forward. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten you promised to stay with Tessa. I got to be on my way or I’ll miss the train.” She grabbed her traveling bag and, after a quick wave, was out the door and down the stairs.
Beatrice was panting for breath when she finally dropped onto her seat in the train, and for the remainder of the journey, she relished the idea of presenting Joshua with the drawing. A visit with Margaret wasn’t far from her mind, either. She could give Margaret the latest news concerning Laura’s health and entice her with a bit more news regarding the contest, but she’d need to be careful. She didn’t want Margaret to discover she was also supplying information to Joshua. That would lessen her chances of a large payday from Margaret. Besides, Margaret would upbraid her for helping a man born into wealth and position. She’d consider Beatrice a fool, and likely tell her so.
When the train hissed to a stop in Bartlett, Beatrice stepped down. With the handles of her traveling bag grasped tight in her hand, she surveyed the group of people waiting on the platform. Joshua was nowhere in sight. Had he discounted the importance of her letter? A thread of anger wound around her heart and squeezed so tight she thought it might cease beating. Lowering her head, she slogged through the mass of people inside the station and pushed open the heavy wooden door. She glanced about, uncertain if she should hail a hansom cab and go directly to Crothers Mansion or stop at the hotel.
She’d not yet come to a decision when a hand squeezed her shoulder and a voice whispered in her ear. “Are you looking for me?”
She blew out a sigh of relief as she turned to face Joshua. “I was beginning to think you weren’t here.”
“Now, would I let you down? Your letter said it was important.” He grasped her arm and turned her toward the hotel. “I have a room for us, but we should probably go in the back way. You know the hotel here in Bartlett is as stuffy and strict with its rules as the one in Grafton.”
“I have a special present for you. I think it will occupy most of your afternoon.”
He arched his brows. “I thought you would occupy my afternoon.”
“Just wait. You’ll be happy to have time to yourself once you see what I have in my bag.”
He winked as he led her up the stairs and opened the door to his room. “Let’s go inside and see what you brought.”
Beatrice crossed the room and placed her traveling bag atop the bed. She glanced over her shoulder as Joshua stepped behind her and wrapped his arms about her waist. She withdrew the sketch and carefully spread it across the bed. “Feast your eyes on this, and then tell me how lucky you are to have me.”
He released his hold on her waist and stepped to her side. He pointed at the drawing. “Is that . . . ?” His mouth gaped open, and he appeared unable to complete his question.
Her red curls danced as she bobbed her head. “Aye, it’s the final drawing of the urn they’re going to enter in the contest. Rose added the final colors right before I was able to get me hands on it.” A jolt of excitement raced through her and she clapped her hands. “Bet ya never thought you’d be marrying anyone as slick as me. We’re going to be quite a team.”
He inhaled a sharp breath and stared at the drawing. Moments later, he looked up and turned toward her. “How could you be so stupid? Rose will be looking for the drawing, and she’s going to realize you took it.” He grasped one corner of the page between his thumb and forefinger. “I can’t believe you actually brought this with you.”
Fury swelled in Beatrice’s chest. Of all the scenes she’d pictured in her mind while traveling to Bartlett, this one had not been among them. She’d expected to receive Joshua’s unfettered gratitude and amazement. Instead, he was treating her with anger and disdain.
“I brought it because you said you needed to see what they were going to enter in the contest. Ya knew I could na sit down and make a copy, so what did ya think I was gonna do? And ya need not worry about Rose knowing I’ve had the drawing in me hands. You may think I’m stupid, but I’m far from it. She’ll never know it’s been in me hands. I’ll put it in the library, and she’ll think she forgot where she put it earlier today. People forget where they put things all the time.”
“That may be true, but I still think it was foolish.”
“Was it so foolish ya want me to put it back in me bag and you can forget I ever brought it?”
“Of course not. It’s here, and I’ll get some tracing paper to make a copy.” Joshua grabbed the drawing from atop the bed and carried it to a table near the window. He sat down and examined the sketch. “It’s quite beautiful. I’m glad she chose the one that was my favorite.” He traced his index finger along the outer edge of the drawing. “Perhaps she does care for me.”
Beatrice glared at him. “Don’t be thinking about no other lass except the one you’re gonna marry.” She pointed her finger to her chest. “And that would be me.” Still scowling, she dropped into a nearby chair. “They didn’t pick that one ’cause she cares about you. They chose it ’cause there wasn’t time to work on another drawing. The missus took sick, and Rose has been helping care for her.”
“No need to get all riled up. I was only jesting.” He chucked her beneath the chin. “Why don’t you go down to the general store and see if you can buy some tracing paper for me?”
Beatrice pushed up from the chair. “I’m going to visit Margaret, but I’ll be glad to walk downstairs with ya.”
“Why are you going to see her?” He arched his brows.
“Nothing that would concern you. I like to keep in contact with all members of me family.”
Joshua chuckled. “I’m guessing there’s more to your visit than spreading goodwill, but I don’t think I want to hear about it.”
She curved her lips in a coy smile. Even if he did want to know, she wouldn’t have told him.
The minute she stepped inside Crothers Mansion, Margaret came rushing to greet her. “I’m so glad you’ve finally decided to pay a visit.”
Beatrice frowned. “I told ya in me letters that I couldn’t leave. You should be thanking me for taking the time to write and tell ya the happenings. Ya know how I dislike writing letters.” She glanced toward the hallway. “Are ya not going to offer me a cup of tea and a biscuit? Seems I have to ask every time I come calling.”
Margaret rang, and Fia came running. Before Margaret could order the tea, Fia gestured toward the kitchen. “I put the kettle on to boil, and I’ll bring yar tea as soon as I can.” She shot a smile at Beatrice and scurried away.
There hadn’t been time to inquire whether Margaret had increased her wages, but gauging from Fia’s smile, Beatrice surmised she’d received a raise.
Margaret scowled in Fia’s direction. “I had to raise the wages for the house staff. They threatened to go to work at the hotel in town. ’Tis a sad day when you can’t even trust your own relatives.”
Beatrice chortled at the comment. “Sure, and you should know about how much confidence you can place in relatives, Margaret.”
The older woman harrumphed but didn’t disagree. “So what news have you? What about that contest? Have you managed to find some way to make certain Ewan’s pottery doesn’t win? And what about Laura? Do tell me about her medi
cal condition. Is it worse?” Her eyebrows shot up. “And however did you get away?” She frowned. “Laura must be better. Am I right?”
Beatrice leaned back in the overstuffed chair. “So many questions, Margaret. Before I get to answerin’ them, I think maybe we should agree upon a sum of money. What I have to tell you is worth a tidy sum, at least to my way of thinkin’.”
Margaret glowered. “But until you’ve told me, how can I judge the worth of the information?”
“You can’t.” Beatrice picked up her reticule and savored the moment. “If you’re unwilling to pay the price, then I’ll be on me way.”
Anger smoldered in Margaret’s eyes, but they both knew that Beatrice had won this skirmish.
Chapter 24
Grafton, West Virginia
At the sound of footsteps in the hallway, Rose turned toward the door of Laura’s room. After spending a few minutes outdoors with Tessa and Beatrice a short time ago, Rose had returned to find Laura awake and eager for company. While Rose was delighted over the improvement in Laura’s condition and enjoyed visiting, she was also impatient to meet with Rylan and discuss a few changes to their designs this afternoon. She didn’t want to keep him waiting and expelled a sigh of relief when Mrs. Woodfield appeared in the doorway. However, Rose didn’t miss the fact that instead of a plain day dress, Mrs. Woodfield had donned a dress of plum silk trimmed with lace at the neckline and several rows of ruffles along the hemline.
The older woman’s lips curved in an apologetic smile. “I know I’m supposed to spell you, Rose, but I promised to attend a tea being hosted by the ladies’ reading group. We’re meeting with possible benefactors who may help in building a library here in Grafton.” She stepped a bit closer to Laura’s bedside. “I’m glad to see she’s resting. The doctor said she could get up for a little while this afternoon, so I’m sure she’ll want to go out on the porch and get a bit of fresh air.” She looked at the porcelain clock sitting atop Laura’s dressing table. “Sally will be going along with me. I must hurry or I’ll be late. Do you mind terribly?”
Rose shook her head. “No. I was supposed to meet with Rylan at the pottery this afternoon, but—”
“Isn’t he going to come to dinner, as usual?” Mrs. Woodfield glanced in the mirror and adjusted the silver bar pin fastened to the collar of her dress. “That will permit you time to visit, won’t it?”
“Yes, of course. You go on to your meeting. I hope you and the ladies will have success beginning a library. I know it would be helpful to the students at the pottery. Some of the girls have become very interested in poetry and fiction, and the boys have inquired about books that would help them learn more about a variety of trades.”
Mrs. Woodfield gestured toward the other room. “Tell Ainslee and Adaira that they are welcome to choose some books from our library and loan them to the girls. I think there are a number of books on brickmaking that belonged to my husband, and there may be some on woodcarving and architecture that he purchased when we were planning to build our house in Bartlett. Perhaps a few of the boys would be interested in those.”
“Thank you. I’ll be sure to tell the girls. I know their students will be grateful. I’ll go up and tell Ainslee after you’ve left. Perhaps she can bring Tessa down to the library while she chooses a few books.”
The older woman stopped at the doorway, turned, and frowned. “Has Beatrice left already?”
“Yes. She wanted to board the noon train today. She’ll be back tomorrow. I thought you knew.”
“I was aware she was going to Bartlett, but I didn’t know when she was departing or that she was staying overnight.” Mrs. Woodfield sighed. “I suppose it makes little difference. Either way, someone is needed to look after Tessa.”
Rose shifted in her chair. “She won’t have all that much time to visit with her relatives once she arrives. It seems it would have been better for her to leave on the early morning train and return this evening, but she mentioned her relatives would be at work during the daytime.”
“I do suppose that makes good sense. I hadn’t considered the fact that she’d be better able to visit with her family later in the day.” Her gaze drifted upwards. “Is Ainslee going to stay overnight in the nursery, or shall I make plans to sleep there?”
Though Mrs. Woodfield’s offer was sincere, Rose knew the older woman wouldn’t get a wink of sleep in the nursery. “I’m sure Adaira or Ainslee will offer. If not, I’ll be happy to sleep in the nursery tonight. You need not give the matter another thought.”
“You girls are such a blessing—always so willing to lend a hand.” She beamed at Rose. “I’ll stop by the pottery and tell Rylan you won’t be coming there this afternoon but you still plan to meet with him this evening.”
Rose offered a quick thank-you, and once Mrs. Woodfield had departed and Laura had dozed off, Rose leaned back in the overstuffed chair near Laura’s bed and closed her eyes. She’d rest for a few minutes and then get back to work on the color changes in her design. If she couldn’t work on the plate with Rylan this afternoon, she could at least complete the minor variations for the urn and show them to Rylan this evening. Though she hadn’t yet placed it on her sketch, she planned to add the Scripture reference he’d pointed out to her on the frieze in the lobby of the Franklin Hotel.
The chapter in Ephesians had been perfect for the frieze, and it would be perfect on their urn. Perhaps they could add it to their plate, as well. She hoped Rylan would be pleased with her decision. The thought filled her with an unexpected rush of excitement. She’d consistently prayed for God’s guidance while she was planning her sketch, and now she wanted to honor Him for answered prayer. So, like the frieze in the hotel, she’d duplicate the Scripture reference and hope that many others would take time to look up the chapter, read it, and give thanks for God’s mercy and love.
Sometime later, she was startled awake when Laura touched her hand. Rose straightened in the chair and squeezed Laura’s hand. “I’m sorry. I meant to close my eyes for only a few minutes. Have you been awake for long?”
“No, not long at all.” Laura’s dark auburn curls splayed across the white pillowcase. Her pale blue eyes flickered beneath thick, dark-brown lashes that fanned her porcelain-like complexion. “I was hoping we might sit on the back porch for a short time. What do you think?”
“If you feel up to it.” Rose smiled to hide her concern. She had hoped Ewan or Mrs. Woodfield would be here for Laura’s first venture out of the house, but she didn’t want to deny Laura’s request. After all, it was a lovely day.
“I believe I’m strong enough to make it down the hallway, though I don’t think I could manage to get dressed.”
Rose placed Laura’s slippers at the side of the bed. “No one will be able to see us on the back porch, so you need not worry.” After Laura had donned her slippers, she slid her arms into her wrapper. Securing one arm around Laura’s waist to steady her, Rose fixed her sight on Laura and waited a moment. “Do you feel all right?” She didn’t want to release her hold until she was certain of Laura’s strength.
“Yes. I’m fine.” She gestured to a shawl draped across the back of a chair. “I might want that once we get outdoors.”
Rose momentarily released her hold, picked up the shawl, and draped it across Laura’s shoulders. As they departed the room, she grasped Laura’s arm and continued to hold tight until they reached the porch. Never before had it taken so long to walk the short distance.
Laura slowly lowered herself into one of the padded wrought iron chairs and drew in a deep breath. “I didn’t realize how much strength it would take to walk out here.” She leaned back in the chair. “The cool air is refreshing, and it’s wonderful to feel the sunshine on my face.”
The sun danced in zigzag patterns across the porch as Rose sat down in a nearby chair. She removed a small book of poetry from her pocket and leafed through, looking for a poem she might read aloud. Before she could choose a selection, Laura gasped and then shrieked.
Rose’s eyes widened in alarm, and her heart pounded. “What is it? What’s wrong?” She jumped to her feet, dropping the book of poetry into her chair. Panic seized her as Laura doubled forward.
“Help me back to bed, Rose.” She extended her hand. “I won’t be able to get up without your help.”
Rose leaned over, circled Laura’s waist with her arm, and gently helped her to her feet. It was then that Rose’s attention settled on a large stain that had transformed the yellow-flowered cushion into an ugly shade of burnt orange. Her stomach knotted as she inhaled a deep breath. She must remain calm, or she’d be no help to Laura.
As they were entering the back door, Laura lurched forward, nearly toppling both of them to the floor. “Th-the pain—it’s unbearable.”
“Just a little farther, and I’ll have you in bed.” Rose sagged under Laura’s weight as she continued along the hallway. She silently prayed Ainslee would hear them and come downstairs, but too great a distance separated them from the nursery. She must remain strong.
Laura moaned and her head dropped forward.
“Don’t faint on me, Laura. We’re almost to your bed.” Panting for breath, Rose managed to take the last few steps to the bedside. “Here we are. I’m going to help you into bed.”
With a loud groan, Laura dropped onto the bed and drew her legs up in pain. “Send Catherine for help. I need the doctor.”
Fear clutched Rose in a viselike grip, her eyes darting from Laura’s cramped form on the bed to the vacant hallway. She didn’t want to tell Laura that she couldn’t send Catherine for help. This was Catherine’s afternoon to do the weekly shopping, and she wouldn’t be home for at least another hour. And Sally, Mrs. Woodfield’s personal maid, had accompanied her mistress to the ladies’ reading group. There was no one to send for the doctor.
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