“Miss Catherine.”
She jumped at Annie’s voice hissing behind her, hearing the disapproval in her maid’s tone.
“Oh, I was just saying that I heard you’ve been quite the success working with Mr. Van Alden. My brother has so many good things to say about you, and I’m glad you’re doing well.”
She forced herself to smile, although she still felt a little stunned at her response to his presence. He blinked and looked at Annie quickly before casting his gaze away, almost apologetically. Surely he didn’t care what her maid thought, did he?
“Arthur talks to you about me? I’m surprised he would think that you would be interested in me. I mean, in what I’m doing.”
She waited in the silence after he finished, unsure how to respond. He cleared his throat before he continued.
“Yes, I’ve been enjoying my time with Mr. Van Alden, and I am hopeful that I can continue working with him. It’s fascinating, every aspect of the projects he’s developing. I’ve always had an interest in architecture, but my father . . .”
Catherine stood up straighter and reached out to touch his arm, giving the impropriety of the gesture no thought at all.
“You’ve remembered something? What does that mean? Have you told Arthur?”
Will stepped back suddenly, as if her touch burned him. She looked down as her hand fell away and wondered what she had done or said to make him move away from her.
“I’m sorry, I think I misspoke. I meant that I’m interested now, so I assume I’ve always had an interest. There are so many things I seem to already know, so I’m sure I studied it to some degree, probably on my own, or I wouldn’t know some of the details that come to mind when Mr. Van Alden shows me what his plans are. I didn’t mean to imply that I’ve recalled anything, because I haven’t.”
Annie stood beside her now, and Catherine felt a shiver of unease as Will spoke, the words tumbling from his lips as if he couldn’t stop them. It was strange, since he had never been one to speak so much at once, although they hadn’t had much time together aside from a few moments here and there over the past few weeks during which they could talk. Still, she thought, there was something strange about what he was saying, first that he remembered, then quickly denying it. He didn’t have a reason to lie, she considered, so his explanation might just be nervous response to being alone with her like this. He knew as well as she did that it wasn’t proper, but she could see that he liked her just as she liked him, and was unsure of himself just as she was as well.
“It was lovely to meet you so unexpectedly, Miss Davenport. I’m sorry to keep you from your destination, so I will be off. Perhaps I will see you at the shelter soon.”
He dipped his head towards her but his eyes darted away from her gaze, and he walked around them and continued south on the Cliff Walk before she could speak.
Chapter Sixteen
“Maybe after Christmas. I think we’ll see how I’m feeling then, and perhaps after this ball your mother is thinking about having . . .”
“A ball!” Sarah screeched and Catherine wanted to slap her. After her bittersweet meeting with Will earlier that day, she had wavered between the excitement of the unexpected time and conversation they had shared, including the undeniable attraction between them, and the feeling that something was wrong about his response to her question about his statement regarding his memory. She was confused and it was making her cross, and she was tired of Sarah’s constant chatter besides.
“Honestly, Sarah, it isn’t as if we’ve never hosted a social function before. Don’t be so silly.”
Sarah had been standing in front of Josie’s mother’s sofa, where Josie and Catherine sat close together, their hands clasped on Catherine’s knee. Josie squeezed Catherine’s hand after she spoke, as if to calm her, but it wasn’t working.
“Well, of all things! Just because you’d rather hide in your room reading all the time, at least when you aren’t with Arthur, doesn’t mean the rest of us shouldn’t have a good time! I had no idea Mother was planning a winter ball! How exciting!”
Catherine sighed. She supposed that it might be fun, but she was already tired of the cold, and walking on the questionable path that made up the Cliff Walk to visit Josie earlier was only a precursor to traveling around town when winter finally overcame it. She knew she would see Will more, though, and that should have made her happy. Whatever was bothering her about their interaction was probably her own nerves, she decided, remembering all that Josie and Arthur had overcome to get to this point, all they were still dealing with, but were stronger for it. Maybe if she and Will continued to see each other, and if his memory did return and he came from a good family that her parents would approve of . . .
“Catherine?”
Josie was staring at her, but Catherine saw the small smile on her sister-in-law’s face and knew that Josie was teasing her. How many times had Catherine daydreamed in Josie’s presence, and how many times had Josie laughed, taking no offense? Would Josie be able to help her figure out what she was feeling towards Will, or perhaps what his vehement denial about his memory might mean? She certainly couldn’t bring it up with Sarah dancing around like a little girl a few feet in front of them.
“I’m sorry. It seems like I’m always apologizing for letting my mind drift elsewhere. You know it doesn’t mean that I’m not interested in what you’re saying, right?”
Josie leaned her head on Catherine’s shoulder.
“It’s just who you are. I hope you will get to travel someday soon, make all your daydreams come true. I pray that your husband, whether it is a Vanderbilt or a mysterious boy with no last name, will support you in your desire to visit those places you read about.”
Catherine stiffened at Josie’s rather brazen statement, and Sarah stopped bouncing and leaned in close to Catherine, her eyes wide and interested.
“Mysterious boy? Do you mean the boy with amnesia? Are you in love with him? Mother will be horrified! Oh, you should just run away with him and have an adventure!”
Catherine didn’t know whether to laugh or scream, but the sound that came from her throat was more like a strangled gurgle. Josie sat up and took Catherine’s hand in both her own.
“I am sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, and there’s no excuse to say such a thing. Sarah, you must forget that I said it. Of course Catherine isn’t going to run away with anyone, and I don’t think it’s proper for you to be so excited over the prospect of upsetting your mother.”
“But she’s been so terrible to you. How can you defend her?”
Sarah seemed astonished, although she and Catherine had both seen how Josie dealt with their mother. First with patience, then with civility even when she felt she had to speak up. Arthur always defended her, so Josie knew that she wasn’t alone when she stood up to her former employer and new mother-in-law. Still, Catherine remembered how Josie and Arthur had fought against both of the Davenport parents to be together, and Josie, deceptively small and quiet, had held her own.
“She only wants what is best for you, and for Catherine, just as she does for your brother. She thinks she knows what that is, but sometime we ourselves can’t know. We can pray and work together in ways that we know serve God, knowing that He will lead us to where we should be.”
Sarah turned away, the conversation less interesting now that it didn’t focus on starting trouble with her mother.
“Perhaps your mother needs some assistance in the kitchen.”
She wandered off without a second look and Catherine looked at Josie with a shrug.
“I don’t think she’ll ever grow up. There can’t possibly be a man who could keep up with her, and I would feel sorry for any who try.”
Josie watched Sarah and the two of them heard Josie’s mother greet Sarah and invite her to help with the tea.
“I wouldn’t want to see her tamed. She charms everyone, and it comes so naturally to her. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to enjoy life, as long as there’s so
me direction involved.”
Josie’s words surprised Catherine, since Josie and Arthur were the hardest working people Catherine knew. Still, there were plenty of times she overheard them laughing while they lived with her, and the ice cream incident - that was quite unprecedented. Sarah wasn’t on any path, though, and she could understand her mother’s concern.
“I’m sorry, but I know you’ve mentioned walking with Arthur, in a figurative sense. The praying, service, all of this the two of you have and do together . . . I’m not sure I understand all of it, but I do pray, and hope that I will understand it eventually.”
Josie rubbed a hand over her forehead, and Catherine noticed that she had suddenly turned pale.
“What is it? Should I call for your mother?”
Josie closed her eyes and shook her head a tiny bit.
“No, I’ll be fine. It comes upon me suddenly and then leaves just as quickly.”
Catherine wanted to go into the kitchen and get Josie’s mother, but Josie still held her hand, and Catherine didn’t want to pull away. Josie looked terrible, as if she hadn’t slept in days, although she had seemed fine just a few minutes ago.
“You look so worried. Please don’t be.”
Josie sighed and leaned back into the sofa, closing her eyes as the front door opened and Arthur stepped into the room, his eyes finding Josie immediately.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
Catherine stood up, and Josie released her as Arthur took Catherine’s place beside his wife.
“I’m fine. It came over me quickly, and will be gone soon enough.”
When Arthur leaned in and kissed Josie on the forehead, Catherine turned away, and could see her sister and Lucy setting cups and a plate of cookies on a tray. Lucy looked up and seemed to understand what was happening, as she waved Catherine into the room with a welcoming gesture.
“He is always so concerned, but this isn’t uncommon, although it can be dangerous if not taken seriously. He’s very sweet, though, and I give thanks to God every day that they found each other. They will be fine parents to my grandchildren.”
Lucy was an older version of Josie, small and blonde, fair of face and hair but strong in her faith and her self-assurance. She didn’t look old enough to have a grown daughter, and was about to be a bride herself come spring. Her first priority now was Josie, and once she was over whatever this sickness that came with the baby was, Josie had invited Catherine and Sarah to help her and her mother plan the wedding.
“Nothing big, but I’d like you all to have something to do with it, so it will be a family event.”
Lucy pointed to one of the kitchen chairs now and Catherine sat without thinking, obedient as ever. Sarah smiled at Lucy, waiting for instruction, and Catherine saw her sister’s desire to please so plainly it almost pained her to watch. Did Sarah need so much attention and validation from Lucy, where she didn’t from their parents? Or at least Catherine didn’t think Sarah ever looked at their parents that way. Maybe she had at one time, but if their approval never came, perhaps she had given up. Lucy put an arm around Sarah and turned her gaze towards Catherine.
“Thank you both for visiting. I know Josie appreciates seeing you, and she worries that your parents are upset that she and Arthur are here instead of your home. I pray that they will come to understand.”
Catherine smiled happily, and felt her worries about Will and her parents’ push for marriage, about Josie and the baby, calm as the comfort and companionship in Josie’s childhood home enveloped her.
What had he been thinking?
Will couldn’t imagine making a bigger mistake, even with Arthur or Mr. Van Alden. Both men had a sharp ear and watched and listened to Will carefully every moment, but Will knew that Catherine had an emotional interest in him. It was impossible not to notice, and not when he was searching so desperately for any sign that she might mirror his own feelings. Now that he was living with the Van Aldens, and knowing that they had lost their only son years ago, the pressure to become someone worthy of so much attention had become stifling. When he and Mr. Van Alden were working together, sometimes in the older man’s study, and sometimes on long walks around town, during which Van Alden would point out architectural feats and failures, the latter of which could still be, in both of their estimations, successes in their own ways, the fear that threatened to drown Will evaporated, and he submerged himself in Van Alden’s instruction and obsession with the art he loved. After weeks of working with him and now, living with him, Will couldn’t imagine a future that did not include daily interactions with Van Alden in which the two of them worked and planned the City’s future. If anyone found out that his amnesia was a lie, Will would lose everything, including Catherine’s beautiful gaze, the way her dark blonde hair had become loose in the breeze and blew gently in time with a pink ribbon that held it back from her face . . . the trust she seemed to be granting him every time they found themselves together. Her brother would be furious if he knew that Will had spoken to her earlier that day, but it had been a chance meeting, and her maid had been present. Her maid had also very obviously disapproved, and he wasn’t sure that it was only because they were alone. Did the maid know who he was? Perhaps there had been some gossip in town, and he had been mentioned. There was always talk of one sort of another, and the servants always seemed to know more and in a quicker fashion that anyone else, at least in the City.
“I think you’ve worn him out, dear.”
A motherly voice gently admonished the man at the head of the table, and Will realized he had been absorbed in his thoughts. Daydreaming, like his Catherine. His Catherine.
“Oh, no, not at all. I think I just have so many ideas in my head, it’s difficult to focus.”
Van Alden laughed, although he wasn’t one to give in to overexcitement and his exclamation was brief and dignified.
“I am certain that this is an area in which you’ve had training, even with a natural affinity, which I am also certain you are blessed with. You have an eye like I haven’t seen in all my years in the field, and I am pleased to have the opportunity to train you further.”
Will couldn’t help but smile. He felt so welcome here, and the look on Mrs. Van Alden’s face was so content as she gazed lovingly at her husband. To think, that they were so happy together after such a long marriage. If he and Catherine were to marry, he was sure that they would always be happy. He would make her happiness his first priority.
“I don’t think that smile is only for you, dear.”
Mrs. Van Alden was watching him, her eyes sparkling with amusement and her lips quirking into a small smile.
“Oh, uh, it couldn’t be anything else, Mrs. Van Alden. The meal is exquisite, of course, and I was hungry.”
His benefactors looked at each other before staring him down.
“Is there a girl, perhaps?”
Of course Mrs. Van Alden would guess at such a thing, and Will wondered what sort of smile had crossed his face at the thought of taking Catherine as his bride. Women were always so perceptive. He would have to be more careful from now on, even in his daydreams. He shook his head and forced himself to smile again, calmly and with control.
“I wouldn’t have time for socializing, with all the work I’ve been doing as well as helping Arthur at the shelter. I am happy to be so busy and productive, and I appreciate all that both of you, and Arthur have done and continue to do for me.”
Mrs. Van Alden reached over to her husband, and he took her hand as she replied.
“You’re much too young to be without a pretty girl on your arm. We’ll have to remedy that, won’t we, dear?”
Van Alden looked at Will sheepishly and shrugged, as if to say, what can you do?
What could he do indeed, Will thought, fighting to keep a polite smile on his face as his appetite vanished. The only girl he wanted on his arm was Catherine, but his secrets might keep them apart for always.
Chapter Seventeen
Now that the weat
her had turned cold, baking at First Steps wasn’t quite the sweaty, messy affair it had been when Catherine had first darkened its doors. Not quite.
Grace had left early to attend to a sick neighbor, and Catherine knew that she had to bake an inordinate amount of cookies to take to Friendship Hospital that evening. Arthur had been gone all day, and she was worried about him traveling about in the cold. The roads were icy at times, and the carriage did slip on occasion. He preferred to walk but she talked him into riding instead when she saw how tired he looked. Staying up with Josie when she couldn’t sleep, then spending all day and sometimes evening here or with settled clients to check on their new arrangements, whether it was at their places of employment or new homes, kept him busier than one man should have been able to manage reasonably. Catherine had taken a moment to pray silently while they were in the carriage together that morning, and he had been more quiet than usual. She hadn’t interrupted the silence between them, as it was companionable and she knew that he was working through his plans for the day during the ride.
“Pffffth!”
She blew softly to the side, away from the table on which she was rolling out the dough. A poof of flour had flown into her face and mouth, and she began to laugh, blinking away the white dust from her eyes. Looking at her hands, sticky with dough, she tried to find a way to wipe her face without making a bigger mess.
“You make a pretty picture, even covered in flour, Miss Davenport.”
She turned her gaze to the doorway, where Will stood, his black suit clean and fresh as if it had never been worn. He wasn’t mocking her, she knew that, but she was a little embarrassed at her appearance, especially in light of how fine he himself looked.
“Will, it’s good to see you.”
She managed to speak a few words before she lost her train of thought, and stood still, holding her dough-covered hands in front of her as if they were diseased.
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