by Deborah Hale
“You have taught your pupils well, Miss Fairfax,” the lady replied. “They are as delightful a family as I have ever met. You must be as proud of them as their father.”
“I am very proud,” Evangeline replied, warmly disposed to anyone who praised her young pupils. “I cannot begin to take credit for all their fine qualities. I only hope I have helped them make the most of their natural abilities. If I may say so, you have a natural way with children. Do you come from a large family?”
“Not anymore.” Miss Webster shook her head with an air of regret. “I had two brothers, but the younger one was sickly and died of consumption. The older one joined the army and was killed in the war.”
Evangeline was about to apologize for provoking such painful memories, when Owen piped up, “My mama died. Do you remember your brothers? I cannot remember my mama. Emma does and Matthew might, but it was very long ago, when I was only little. I wish I could remember her.”
“I’m sure you do.” Miss Webster clasped one of Owen’s hands. “I never thought before what a blessing it is that I remember my brothers and my mother.”
Evangeline tried to think of something to say that might comfort the child, but Miss Webster seemed to have managed quite well by acknowledging his sadness and letting him know that she understood. Perhaps she would be the right mother for the Chase children.
“My aunt had a large family,” Miss Webster said, returning to Evangeline’s question. “Perhaps that accounts for it. Most of her children were a good deal younger than I. Whenever I visited, I enjoyed looking after the little ones. I hope I shall be blessed with a family of my own one day—a big jolly one like Owen’s.”
Did she indeed? It sounded as if Miss Webster might not be as indifferent to Mr. Chase as he believed.
A few minutes later, they arrived at the foot of Red Hill, the tallest prominence in this part of the Vale of Eden between the lake-studded Cumbrian Mountains and the Pennines, which some called “the spine of England.” While the riders dismounted and the rest of the party piled out of the carriages, Evangeline was kept busy watching that none of the children wandered off or strayed too close to the horses. Meanwhile, she parceled out the colorful kites they had built from bits of light strapping and scraps of silk found in an old trunk in the attic. Finally, she arranged for the picnic hampers and rugs to be carried up the hill.
As she watched the others pick their way up the winding path, Evangeline started when she heard her employer’s deep voice close behind her. “How would we manage without you, Miss Fairfax? You arrange all our festivities and make certain everything runs smoothly. Is it as little effort as you make it appear?”
“Indeed it is not!” Her surprise and other unruly feelings found release in a burst of laughter as she spun about to face him. “There always seems to be a dozen things to do at once...besides keeping an eye on the children, which can be a handful on its own.”
“Are you sorry you put yourself to so much trouble to find me a wife?” When he asked the question, Jasper Chase cocked his head to one side, just like Matthew. His grin sparkled with impudence, yet there was an appealing warmth about it.
“Of course not.” She tilted her chin and looked him in the eye. “I enjoy a challenge.”
He nodded as if to say he did, too. “You have risen to it admirably. You must be very anxious to get away and start that school of yours.”
“I am.” Evangeline willed her voice to remain steady and positive, without the slightest quaver of doubt. If Mr. Chase heard it, she feared he might apply pressure to that weak spot to persuade her to stay.
But when she betrayed nothing he could exploit, Jasper Chase simply shook his head and repeated his earlier words, with one minor but significant change. “How will we manage without you, Miss Fairfax?”
Chapter Six
He must face the fact that Evangeline Fairfax was going to leave Amberwood in two months’ time and there was nothing he could do to prevent her.
That afternoon, as flocks of woolly clouds chased one another across the summer sky over Red Hill, the Amberwood party enjoyed another lively outing. Meanwhile, Jasper grappled with the realization that there were some things even his strong will could not change and this was one of them.
“Why so solemn looking, old friend?” asked Norton Brookes, his voice breathless from running to get kites aloft for Emma, Mrs. Dawson and his sister. “Thanks to you, everyone is having a fine time. It would be unfair for you not to.”
Jasper forced the corners of his mouth upward. “I am pleased to see that you and Abigail are enjoying your visit. I suppose you do not get to many house parties.”
“I have attended a number in the past,” his friend replied, “but they were not to my taste. Too much drinking, high play and late hours. Fishing, kite flying and the company of your charming children suit me much better. I am certain I shall return to my parish with my faith rejuvenated.”
“I am glad to hear it.” Jasper’s smile grew more sincere. It seemed a number of good things might come out of this house party. Would they include a second marriage for him? “Now, shall we show my sons just what an expert kite flyer a vicar can be?”
Norton located an unused kite and held on to the roll of string while Jasper ran it up to the crest of the hill. There a stiff breeze caught it and tugged it out of his hand. His friend kept just enough tension on the string, unrolling it little by little until the kite soared high above the others. Matthew and Alfie cheered, as did Mrs. Dawson.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jasper could see Miss Fairfax and Miss Webster standing near Owen, watching the boy fly his kite. The two women seemed deep in conversation, which Jasper doubted had anything to do with kites. Now and then, one of the ladies would glance his way. He pretended not to notice, when, in fact, he was intensely aware of their scrutiny. He wished he knew what they were saying about him.
As he watched the flight of various kites, his thoughts returned to the prospect of Miss Fairfax’s leaving. He had tried appealing to her affection for his children. He had tried to demonstrate his long-overdue appreciation for all she had done for his family. He was not proud of the fact that he had tried to make her feel guilty for leaving. Nothing had worked. If anything, she seemed more determined than ever to pursue what she clearly believed was her true calling in life.
He understood her determination more than she might realize. Anyone who tried to make him abandon his work at New Hope Mills would meet with similar resistance. He knew, because his late wife had tried. Her efforts had only succeeded in straining their marriage and making him question whether a man with his responsibilities could be a good husband.
“Papa!” Rosie’s cry startled him out of his brooding. She scampered toward him, followed by Miss Leveson. “You’ll never guess what I found.”
Jasper noted the smear of bright red around his daughter’s mouth. “It wouldn’t by any chance be wild strawberries?”
“How did you know?” Rosie opened her dimpled fist to reveal a rather crushed handful of red berries, none bigger than an orange pip. “Would you like one?”
“Why, thank you.” He plucked a berry from her hand and popped it into his mouth, savoring the wholesome sweetness. “I am very partial to strawberries.”
“Your daughter is a darling little creature,” Miss Leveson gushed. “We have such a lovely time together, don’t we, Rosie?”
The child nodded as she crammed the rest of the berries into her mouth. When she had eaten them, she announced, “I like this party. We should have more.”
Jasper gave the brim of her bonnet a playful tug. “Perhaps we shall. Now, I think you ought to go see Miss Fairfax and get your hands washed before you ruin your dress.”
“Yes, Papa.” Rosie skipped off toward her governess.
After hesitating for a moment, Miss Leveson followed his daugh
ter, much to Jasper’s relief. He watched as Rosie approached her governess and held out her berry-stained hand. Between the rush of the wind and the whoops of Matthew and Alfie, he could not make out what Miss Fairfax said. He could tell by her tone and gestures that she did not scold, but beckoned Rosie over to a small stand of trees that shaded the picnic rugs and proceeded to clean her up.
Miss Webster made some remark to the child that set her governess and Miss Leveson laughing, but she did not take her attention entirely off Owen.
It had been his wife’s wish that their children grow up in the wholesome beauty of the Vale of Eden. Jasper had heartily agreed, though it meant long journeys back and forth from Manchester and a constant feeling of being pulled in two different directions. With the birth of each new baby, Susan had urged him more strenuously to leave the running of his mill to an overseer and spend more time with their growing family.
He had tried to explain how important his work was to him—not just the spinning and weaving, buying and selling for the sake of personal gain, but making the mill a success that would benefit his workers. Even for her and their children he could not abandon the work he believed the Lord meant him to do.
How could he expect Evangeline Fairfax to give up hers?
If the children must lose their beloved governess in two months’ time, did he not owe it to them to fill part of the void she would leave with a new mother?
* * *
“There you go, Rosie.” Evangeline examined the child’s mouth and hands, which she had rubbed clean with a damp cloth. “If you want to pick more berries, I will give you a cup to put them in.”
Miss Leveson took the child by one of her newly washed hands. “Come, Rosie-posey. What shall we do now?”
“Why don’t you try kite flying?” Miss Webster suggested, thereby endearing herself further to Evangeline.
Though she was pleased to see Rosie getting special attention, she feared Miss Leveson’s fussing and babying might spoil the child. If it did, she would have little time to correct the situation before she resigned her position.
“You can fly mine for a while,” Owen said, holding out the string to his sister. “It’s fun.”
With further encouragement from her brother and Miss Webster, Rosie agreed to try. Miss Leveson hung about looking rather sulky. Perhaps she did not care to share the attention of her little pet.
Mr. Chase watched from a distance, though he seemed rather lost in thought.
Recalling what he had said about how his family would manage without her, Evangeline felt her resolve to leave Amberwood begin to weaken. Could that be why she had allowed Mr. Chase to dismiss three prospective matches without a word of argument? In the case of Miss Anstruther and Miss Leveson, she had positively encouraged him.
She must not let that happen with Miss Webster, to whom Owen had taken a fancy. The older boys liked her, too, and now she was taking an interest in Rosie. The other ladies all seemed to have their favorites among the children, except Miss Anstruther, who did not appear to care for any of them. The Chase children needed a mother who could love them all equally, as their father did.
If only Miss Webster would pay some attention to the children’s father. He claimed the lady was avoiding him, but Evangeline could not imagine why. Perhaps she did not want to make a spectacle of herself by pursuing him the way certain others in the party did.
Evangeline glanced toward Miss Anstruther, who kept edging closer to Mr. Chase while making a great fuss about the difficulties of keeping her kite aloft. No doubt she was trying to draw his attention and perhaps get him to offer his assistance. Clearly she failed to realize he was not one of those men who found weakness and ineptitude endearing qualities in a lady.
Suddenly Evangeline realized that Mr. Chase was looking at her. Did he wonder why she’d been gaping at him for the past several minutes?
To cover her embarrassment, she approached Miss Webster, who was supervising the younger children as they took turns with Owen’s kite.
“He is so kind to his little sister.” Miss Webster regarded Owen fondly. “My young cousins bicker amongst themselves all the time.”
“There is a bit of that in our nursery, too,” Evangeline admitted. “But for the most part, they get on well together. I wish I could take credit for it, but I believe the children have inherited their father’s good nature.”
“Mr. Chase seems a very amiable gentleman. Which of the children is most like him?” Miss Webster sounded sincerely interested, which encouraged Evangeline.
She thought for a moment. “None of them is exactly like him, yet each has some of his traits. Emma has his intense loyalty and sense of responsibility. You must have noticed how she mothers the younger ones?”
“I have,” Miss Webster replied. “Emma reminds me of her dear mother. In character, I mean. Rosie looks far more like her.”
Evangeline nodded. “You are very observant. I believe Matthew and Owen get their cleverness from their father and their enjoyment of a challenge. Alfie has Mr. Chase’s humor and his concern for others. Rosie inherited his sense of fairness.”
The children shared some of their father’s faults, too, but Evangeline saw no reason to mention those. After all, she was trying to make a good impression on Miss Webster. Besides, in both the children and their father, any small defects were more than outweighed by their good qualities.
“They are a fine family.” Miss Webster cast a warm glance around at all the children. “No wonder Mr. Chase is so devoted to them.”
“He does not show any partiality to one over the other,” Evangeline added. “He has a special affection for each one.”
Miss Webster looked toward Jasper Chase, who was trying to help Emma and Mrs. Dawson untangle their kites. “That is as it should be in families. I am certain Mrs. Chase would be pleased at how well her children have turned out. I knew her when our fathers were partners. Though I was younger, she was always kind to me.”
This was the second time Miss Webster had mentioned the children’s mother. Could that be what held her back from taking a romantic interest in Mr. Chase? Evangeline wondered. Did she think it would be disloyal to his late wife?
“I believe Mrs. Chase would have wanted her children to have a new mother to care for them as much as she did. Mr. Chase loved her a great deal. The past few years have been lonely for him, though he does his best to keep the children’s spirits up.”
“Poor man.” Miss Webster’s gaze softened. “It must have been very hard for him.”
“I believe it has.” The thought brought Evangeline a pang of conscience.
She had been so concerned about the children and impatient with their father for not spending more time with them, she had not given much thought to his grief. When Mr. Chase came home for visits, he had been so determined to make his time with the children enjoyable that he’d seldom betrayed any hint of sorrow. His behavior gave Evangeline the impression that he had not been much affected by his wife’s death. Only when she spoke to Miss Webster, trying to paint a flattering portrait of her employer, did she suspect how wrong she might have been.
“Mr. Chase seems to be enjoying this house party.” Margaret Webster nodded toward him.
After much careful maneuvering, he had gotten his daughter’s kite untangled from Mrs. Dawson’s without bringing both hurtling to the ground. He received applause from the vicar and a hug from Emma.
“I believe it has done him good to mix with other people.” Evangeline congratulated herself for having brought it about. “He needs to look to the future and begin living his life again.”
“He is very fortunate,” said Miss Webster, “to have someone who thinks so highly of him raising his children.”
Evangeline was not certain what to make of the lady’s remark. Her praise was not like Miss Leveson’s transparent effort to
ingratiate herself, but could there be some other motive behind it? “Everyone who works for Mr. Chase thinks well of him. He is a good, fair employer. I am certain his millworkers would say the same of him and better.”
“Ah, yes. Mr. Chase’s mill.” Miss Webster shook her head as if puzzled. “The other owners say he is a fool to coddle his workers. They say it will give them dangerous ideas. But I do not see how it can be wrong to show people respect and treat them well.”
Hearing Jasper Chase called a fool ignited a blaze of indignation in Evangeline. She was about to launch into a vigorous defense of him when a sharp tug on her hand made her look down.
Rosie stared up at her. “Is it time to eat yet? I’m hungry.”
“So am I,” said Miss Webster before Evangeline had a chance to respond. “All the fresh air and walking have given me an appetite.”
She held out her hand to the child. “Shall we go ask the others if they are ready to eat?”
Rosie nodded and took her hand. As the two headed off together, Evangeline noticed Gemma Leveson and her mother shooting dark glares at Miss Webster, as if the lady had stolen her favorite plaything.
It soon became clear that most of the guests were as eager to eat as Rosie. They reeled in their kites then descended on the picnic hampers. For the next half hour, Evangeline was kept busy dispensing food and drink. Everyone ate with such hearty appetites that there was hardly a scrap left over.
“May we fly our kites a little longer?” Alfie begged his father when he had stuffed himself with cold meats, cheese, buns and pickled eggs.
“Go ahead,” said Mr. Chase, “but only until everything is packed up to go home.”
The guests dispersed and Evangeline began stowing the dishes, cutlery and linen back in the hampers. Mr. Chase lingered and set about helping her. “You and Miss Webster looked as thick as thieves a little while ago. Should my ears have been burning?”
“Perhaps.” Evangeline could not resist teasing him as she sometimes did the children. “Are a person’s ears supposed to burn only when they are criticized behind their back, or will any sort of comment produce the effect?”
