Crown of Beauty

by Cecily K Wolfe

  Crown of Beauty

  Cliff Walk Courtships, Book Two

  by Cecily Wolfe

  ©2017 Cecily Wolfe. All rights reserved.

  ebook ISBN 978-1370106196

  Other books by Cecily K. Wolfe:

  Crown of Beauty (Cliff Walk Courtships, Book Two)

  Treasure of Hope (Cliff Walk Courtships, Book Three)

  as Cecily Wolfe:

  A Harvest of Stars (A Harvest of Stars, Book One)

  Starlight (A Harvest of Stars, Book Two)

  Reckless Treasure

  That Night

  The Competition

  The Library War

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and any similarities to actual persons or events are coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Crown of Beauty

  Treasure of Hope, Cliff Walk Courtships Book Three: Chapter One

  for my sisters, Alys and Katy

  my best friends and toughest critics

  Newport, Rhode Island

  October 1893

  Chapter One

  Catherine Davenport very carefully let the book drop to the floor as she bent down, then used her slippered foot to slide the volume under her bed. Her mother’s footsteps were, thankfully, rather loud on the polished wood of the stairs, and Catherine knew immediately when she needed to hide the evidence that she had been reading. Again.

  “Catherine? Didn’t Annie tell you that it was time to go? I sent her nearly half an hour ago, and while I understand that you might need a few extra minutes to prepare, considering that this was an unexpected invitation, I think it is rather out of your character to fuss so much.”

  Her mother was correct on all counts. Catherine’s maid had rushed into her room, knocking quickly without waiting for an answer, bubbling over with excitement about a moonlight party on the beach. Catherine had been reading, of course, sitting on the floor beside her bed, facing the window so she could see the pages in the natural light. The days had grown shorter as the season had turned, and she preferred the sunlight to artificial light so much that she worried over how she would continue to read comfortably during the winter. It would be their first winter spent in Newport, and while the sun would go down at the same time in New York City, there was a glow about her usual home and neighborhood that kept a continual light pressing into her bedroom, so that on Fifth Avenue she could sit underneath her window, tucked amongst the heavy curtains, and catch that hazy glint in order to devour her books. Newport, however, was becoming quiet and dark. A moonlight beach party was a charming idea, she had thought as Annie wrestled with her long dark blonde hair, but it would be much more to her liking if she could bring her new book and read while the others socialized.

  “Catherine?”

  Unlike Annie, her mother never knocked. Her house, her room, she had always said, and that is exactly how she kept catching Catherine with a book in her hand. It wasn’t seemly for a young lady to read so much, her mother complained. There was only so much a woman needed to know, and it wouldn’t do for Catherine to get ideas that ran outside of the realm of family or social rules. Catherine was eighteen now, and her sister Sarah nearly the same, and their parents were eager to marry them off well. Their older brother’s wedding only weeks ago had seemed to spark an even hotter fire under their mother’s skirts over the subject.

  “You wouldn’t want to be too late. You’re aware that not many young men worth notice are still in town, so you and Sarah must make the best of the opportunities set before you.”

  Catherine held back a sigh and nodded.

  “Yes, Mother, I understand.”

  Her mother’s eyes narrowed as she looked Catherine up and down. Lately her mother had been a little softer around the edges, so to speak, no less critical but less sharp in the way she spoke.

  “There will be a bit of a chill in the air, especially by the water. Be sure to have Annie bring one of your shawls.”

  The older woman offered Catherine a rare smile and turned away.

  “And no books. You’ll never find a husband if you’re wasting time reading books.”

  Catherine slumped and watched her mother walk through the doorway, pulling the door partially closed behind her. Just as Catherine started to turn away, she saw a small figure step up to the door and raise a hand to knock.

  “Oh, come in,” Catherine called out, surprised at this rare encounter with her new sister-in-law. The girl, who was of an age with Catherine, pushed the door open just enough to slip in, her head dipping quickly to Catherine out of a long-standing habit.

  “I think I’ll never stop doing that, Catherine,” Josie laughed at herself and Catherine couldn’t help but smile. Josie was so much smaller than Catherine was, dainty in her form and features, reminiscent of one of the many dolls Catherine and Sarah had collected during their childhoods, dolls that Josie had only recently been charged with dusting on a regular basis. Now their former housemaid was a Davenport herself, wed very happily to Catherine’s brother Arthur, the only other person Catherine knew who shared her own love of books. Josie had worked for her family for a few years, Catherine knew, but she was ashamed to admit that she wasn’t sure exactly how many. Of course, no one paid any mind to their servants, and if Catherine had mentioned her shame to anyone in her social circle they would have thought she was mad. Servants weren’t friends, and they were paid to do work and stay out of the way. If they didn’t, there were more willing to take their place, especially with some of the financial problems that had arisen earlier that year. Catherine wasn’t sure she understood exactly what had happened, but her brother had explained that it had something to do with silver, and fortunately, the Davenports had no silver investments.

  “I hope you will, Josie. We’re sisters now.”

  Catherine did wish that Josie would stop with the nodding and bobbing, but Josie had always been deferential to her and Sarah just as she had with their mother, and it was an ingrained habit. Josie and Arthur weren’t home very often, so Catherine didn’t see Josie much, and the gestures always seemed so prominent for their rarity. She had never noticed them, or Josie, much when Josie was a maid, but she and Arthur lived in the Davenport cottage, Conte de Fée, together now, with an entire wing and servants of their own. Not that Josie wanted to be waited on. Catherine’s mother fussed over Josie’s refusal of a larger staff, but Arthur, as always, conceded to his wife’s wishes and they had only what was needed in order for them to spend most of their time at the shelter they had opened for the homeless and needy in town.

  She walked around the bed, no longer needing to use it as a buffer between her and her mother, and approached Josie, who upon closer look seemed a bit wan. Her long hair, which was much lighter than Catherine’s, was tied back, but a few strands had escaped the thin bow at the nape of her neck. Catherine remembered the way her brother had gently brushed Josie’s hair from her shoulders at their small wedding, his eyes locked on Josie’s as if no one else was there on the lawn but the two of them. The wedding, and Josie’s good fortune in ‘snapping up’ a Davenport, was still the talk of the set, but Catherine could see nothing mercenary in Josie’s affection for her brother.

  “Are you well? I don’t mean to be critical, but you seem very tired.”

  Josie nodded and offered her a small smile.

  “We’ve been working on several projects at First Steps these past few days, trying to prepare for the colder weather, and it’s a little overwhelming. Your brother is full of ideas and there is always so much paperwork . . .”

  Josie trailed off, and Catherine watched her sister-in-law’s expression become wistful as she spoke of Arthur. Josie t
ook Catherine’s hands in her own, and Catherine looked down at them, surprised at the touch. Her parents weren’t affectionate, and while Sarah often hugged her, it was always a quick burst of thanks expressed for Catherine’s agreement to go with her to some social function or other, as their parents would never let Sarah attend on her own.

  “There is another reason I might not look well, but it’s a bit of a secret.”

  Catherine blinked, raising her gaze to Josie’s. She didn’t understand, but immediately felt concern. Was Josie sick? She wouldn’t be smiling if she was sick, though, so she waited for the other girl to elaborate. Instead, her mother’s voice came screeching from below.

  “Catherine Isabella! Don’t make me call for you again! It isn’t seemly for me to be raising my voice so much!”

  Josie laughed at Catherine’s raised eyebrows.

  “However unseemly it is, it hasn’t stopped Mother before.”

  Catherine was surprised at her own comment. She didn’t make jokes often. Something about Josie made her comfortable speaking, as if she could trust her. She had seen the changes in her brother since he and Josie had fallen in love, and they were drastic. Frightening, even, but ultimately for the good. All the talk of God and redemption and service - it was more than Catherine wanted to think about most of the time, but she was curious. Arthur’s happiness was about more than the girl who stood in front of Catherine now, and Catherine wanted to know more.

  “Arthur figured it out, even when I didn’t know myself.”

  Arthur figured what out? Catherine was confused for a moment, but her eyes widened as she realized what Josie meant. If Arthur had something to do with it, and Josie wasn’t feeling well but looked pleased, it could only mean one thing. Catherine had seen what happened to some of the girls in her set who married and immediately fell ill.

  “Oh, Josie, you don’t mean . . .”

  She looked down at Josie, wondering how in the world a baby was forming and growing in Josie’s small body. It was always a mystery, each and every child coming to life in the same way but as a completely unique individual. And Josie and Arthur were here, living with Catherine and the rest of the family, so Catherine would see this miracle firsthand. She stepped back and sat on her bed.

  “Catherine?”

  Josie’s smile was gone, her eyes worried as she took in Catherine’s surprise.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, it’s just, I’ve never been so close to someone who was . . .”

  She opened and closed her mouth a few times and both girls began to laugh. Josie’s smile returned and Catherine was relieved. She would never want to cause Josie any distress.

  “I’ve been around so many children, and many women who were carrying, but it’s so different. The idea of it, of him or her . . .” Josie mused.

  She shook her head and shrugged.

  “I bet Arthur is thrilled,” Catherine said.

  Josie looked down and Catherine saw the flush of pink rush over Josie’s pale face. It was a little indelicate to speak of such things, but between the two of them, it didn’t feel wrong. Catherine knew what happened between a husband and wife - and often between men and women who were not married - but couldn’t imagine such a thing. Her mother had told her and Sarah that their husbands would explain ‘the particulars’ to them on their wedding night, but some of Sarah’s friends who were not the best influences had told Sarah more, and Sarah shared what she had learned with Catherine. Neither one of them was sure what to believe. From the look on Josie’s face, however, it must not be as awful as she and Sarah thought.

  “He is, of course, but he’s more concerned that I’m so sick. My mother said that it happens often, and after the first few weeks, sometimes a few months, it passes. Catherine, only Arthur and my mother know, but I did want to tell you. We’re sisters now, and you and Sarah will be the baby’s aunts. I know it might be awkward, since I used to clean your bedrooms and wash your laundry, but I hope that you and Sarah won’t hold that against the child.”

  Catherine stood up, frowning.

  “Hold it against her? But there is no shame in your past, Josie. Working isn’t something to be ashamed of, and you were always good to us, even if we didn’t notice.”

  Josie sighed and released one of Catherine’s hands to hold her own against the front of her dress.

  “Your mother did release me from service, if you recall. That isn’t something to be proud of.”

  Catherine watched Josie’s hand and wondered if Josie could feel the baby inside her. She couldn’t ask. Maybe there was a book that told of such things.

  “Mother did so because you were friends with Arthur, and now you’re married to him and living here. It’s like something out of a book, really.”

  Josie laughed.

  “Not any book I know of, or any that Arthur reads. I know he brings you books sometimes, though, but I don’t know that he would approve of those sort of stories. I know your mother wouldn’t. Unrealistic.”

  “Unrealistic, indeed!”

  The girls laughed, and kept their hands laced together as they walked through the doorway. Josie let go only when Catherine reached the top of the stairs, smiling as Catherine turned to face her mother, who frowned up at her.

  Chapter Two

  Her brother’s recent marriage had made Catherine’s mother anxious about making matches for Catherine and Sarah, which in turn made Catherine anxious in general. Sarah, of course, had no concerns about anything. Ever.

  “Oh, you know how Mother can be. I’m sure there is nothing to worry about. Imagine me, married!”

  Sarah had laughed like a little girl nearly the entire carriage ride to Bailey’s, her dark hair, still flecked with sun-bleached strands of shining red-gold, already loosening from the tight coil her maid had forced it into less than an hour ago. New acquaintances hardly believed that the two of them were sisters, and even less that they were, as some noted, Irish twins. Their mother hated the expression and said it was derogatory, an insult not to be borne, and it was always spoken in whispers, as if the speakers didn’t want Catherine or Sarah to hear. Like all that was said in confidence, the phrase was repeated, and when Sarah had mentioned it many years ago after a children’s party, their mother had paid a call to the party’s host to complain about how the woman had allowed such talk among such impressionable guests.

  “Of all things,” their mother had huffed to their father, unperturbed as always by his wife’s behavior. He had grown so accustomed to her outbursts that he was resigned to keeping his mouth shut, but recently he had put his foot down when it came to Arthur and his only son’s decisions when it came to his life’s work and his choice of a wife. Catherine was hoping that Arthur and Josie were influencing her mother for the better, and that when it came time for her to marry, they would not force a man with whom she would be incompatible upon her.

  “I know you don’t want to come, and I thank you for attending, since Mother never would allow me to go alone. I can’t imagine anything more wonderful than bathing in the moonlight!”

  Sarah meant to go in the water? At this time of day? Catherine sighed. Mother would never approve, but Sarah had a mind of her own. She almost felt sorry for their mother, as the older woman had her mind focused on making good matches for them when they didn’t want to be tied down to anyone, although for different reasons. Sarah was such an impulsive child, and always had been, and Catherine would much rather be reading a book or wandering through a museum than socializing. The men Mother sought would be those who wanted the girls for their social status, and would have to overlook these flaws, as Mother called them. Was there a man, other than Arthur, who appreciated the written word as Catherine did, or one who could reign in Sarah without crushing her spirit? Catherine shook her head.

  “Oh, stop it. It won’t be that bad for you. I’m sure we can find a boy who looks just as miserable as you do, and you can sit side by side, ignoring each other.”

  Sarah didn’t mean to be unkind, Catherine
knew, but the words still stung.

  “I’m not miserable, and I certainly hope you wouldn’t speak in such a way to anyone else.”

  Sarah reached a gloved hand out to grasp her sister’s and leaned over so their heads were nearly touching. Catherine was surprised that Sarah still wore her gloves; usually they were off and in a rolled-up pile in the corner of the carriage within moments of clearing their property.

  “Please, don’t be like that. You know I’d like to see you have a bit of fun like the rest of us. All of the other families have been leaving, and there’s no telling who will be left here in a few weeks. There will be so little to do - we might as well take advantage of any event to which we are invited.”

  Catherine kissed her little sister on the forehead. She didn’t understand her most of the time, but she did love her, and they had always been close in spite of their personality differences.

  “You know I always do what I can to talk to everyone, and seem interested.”

  Sarah’s laugh filled the carriage. Catherine wondered if there was a man in the world who would be able to appreciate Sarah’s fearlessness and joy. She didn’t want to see her in a marriage that would force her to become someone she wasn’t, but it was a realistic fear. She hadn’t spoken of it to Sarah, who didn’t seem concerned, because she didn’t want to put that worry in her sister’s mind, which was always full of the next adventure on her social calendar. When most of the summer crowd was gone, Sarah might have difficulty with so much free time on her hands. Or maybe not, Catherine thought. Sarah would find something to do, hopefully not of the troublesome kind.

  When the carriage stopped, the footman opened the door and Catherine took his hand as she stepped out, Sarah close behind. Catherine’s maid had traveled with them, sitting with the footman to allow the girls some privacy in their conversation. Catherine’s mother frowned on this, as she didn’t think the girls should have anything to hide, but Annie wasn’t a gossip and wouldn’t tell, unless she was asked directly. The Davenports as a whole were rather proud that their employees, for the most part, did not talk with the help in other households of personal matters, so whatever went on at Conte de Fée, was not spoken of outside of the family. Of course, there were always exceptions, but little went on that was worth gossiping about. Well, at least until Arthur began a rather close friendship with one of their maids.