Steam Over Stephensport: Steam Through Time Series - Book 2

by Carolyn Bond

  “What’s the big deal, Bettie?”

  “What’s the big deal? Honey, have you got a fever? A man like him comes calling, you need to take this seriously. Not that I’m one to chase money, but you’d be a fool not to hear him out and try to look your best. Momma always said you can fall in love with a rich man just as easy as a poor one. Just my luck I fell in love with a poor one. You though, it isn’t written in stone yet.” She grabbed Lily by the hand and pulled her up the stairs. “And there was once a time that I ran in the same circles as Brian Everbright, though he would never believe it. I can get you ready so that you will fit right in.”

  Bettie sat her on the stool in front of the vanity and started pulling pins from her hair and brushing in long forceful strokes. It actually felt good to Lily. It was like a scalp massage. The soft horse hair brush made shushing noises as it traveled down the lengths of hair. Bette worked like a professional. When she had run the brush through about a hundred times, Lily’s blond hair was shining like the sun. Bettie pulled it up on the sides and secured it with combs. Then she pulled two small strands out from near her temples. Letting them hang down for the moment, she pulled up the back into a twist and pinned it. Then she braided the two strands and pinned them into the twist on either side of her head. She dug in a drawer until she found two thin matching ribbons which she wove around each braid and then tied into one bow at the top of the twist.

  She had Lily stand up and began to unbutton the day dress. Carefully pulling it over her head, she hung it in an armoire. Then, Bettie pulled a yellow silk dress out and gathered it up to put over Lily’s head. Lily ducked under and lifted her hands to find the arm holes. The heavy silk layers fell around her like morning light streaming over a meadow. Bettie secured the hook and eyes until the dress hugged Lily like a glove. Bettie stepped back to look at how it fit.

  “My word, child. This dress must have been made for you and not me. I never did it justice like you do. Of course, it hasn’t fit the same since I had Carlton.” She turned Lily around to look at her from all sides. “Oh, wait now.” Bettie tore out of the room and was back in a flash. “Here,” she had a gold watch on a chain that she lowered onto Lily’s bosom and then fastened at the back of her neck. “It’ll give you a little sparkle. It’s the only nice jewelry I have.”

  Lily picked it up and looked at it more closely. It was cold to the touch and had delicate etched flowers adorning the gold locket of a pocket watch. “Oh, thank you, Bettie. I’ll be careful with it.”

  Just about the time Bettie was helping her slip into a wool coat, there was a knock at the door. A few moments later, they heard Carlton announce that Miss Wallingsford’s carriage was here. Lily looked at her reflection in the hand mirror. She barely recognized the Victorian woman looking back at her. This woman seemed so far from 2018, so frozen in time. The longer she stayed here, the more disconnected she felt to her own life.

  “Are you ready, darlin’?” Bettie asked.

  She put the mirror down and gave Bettie a long look. It seemed so out of character for her to entertain thoughts of Brian Everbright. She felt entirely conflicted and knew she shouldn’t have agreed to see him, but a certain thrill gripped her when she thought of him. A clinching zing of electricity grabbed at her insides. Maybe this is what made him different from all the men her mother would try to set her up with. She never felt anything for them. They didn’t set off any alarms. She never daydreamed about them. It just felt so forced. The absolute only attraction they had for her was the fact that they had money. She hated the fact that money was the only thing attractive about them. It made her feel dirty even when they used their money to attract her. It was a pathetic game where they both knew the truth but never spoke of it. She had to admit, his obvious wealth and social station was icing on the cake.

  Brian Everbright intrigued her. In a deep secret part of her heart, she wanted nothing more than for him to find her as fascinating her she found him. The electricity between them was tangible. He was intrigued by her and that made her dizzy with arousal. That would be even one more way that he was different. The men she had dated didn’t seem excited by her older body. They didn’t care if she had an opinion or a brain either. They just seemed desperate not to be alone.

  She came out of her reverie to find herself in an open carriage pulling up in front of a large stone house with white columns. They had not travelled far but the house was set back in the trees and it seemed like Stephensport was a world away. The driver hopped down and helped her out of the carriage. She smoothed down the folds of the satin apron across the front of the dress but stopped when she heard the creak of the front door opening.

  Brian Everbright made long purposeful steps toward her. He wore a tuxedo with tails. His hair shined like it was wet with oil as it made a wavy path from his forehead to his ear. His black patent leather shoes didn’t have a speck of dust. He couldn’t have been more perfectly dressed. Her eyes travelled up his body taking inventory of every button and fold until her eyes rested on his face. His pale white skin had a blue tinge as though he had never been in the sun a day in his life. The line of his jaw was sharp and sculpted. Prominent cheek bones and a high forehead. He was everything mother had every told her about fine lineage. He stopped inches away from her and held out his elbow waiting. She looked at it and then up into his pale blue eyes, blue like the sky on a hazy cloudy day when you can’t tell if it’s blue or just a shade of cool white. He stood as still as stone waiting, looking into her eyes. At this moment, it was her choice. She could flee or she could take his arm. He waited for her to choose. She wondered about the risks of choosing to hook her hand around his elbow. Accepting his protection from a loose pebble that could trip her seemed a small concession, but did he see it as more. Did he take it as her relinquishing herself to him?

  She decided she was over-thinking it and slipped her hand around his elbow. A smile curled around the side of his mouth. He was pleased with this first step. She, on the other hand, had conflicting flashes of heat and fear that he truly did take that as winning another pawn in the chess game that ended with him owning her.

  His restraint and chivalrous posture gave her the feeling she was royalty being escorted inside. He held his arm out, fixed like petrified wood. He didn’t take any liberties to try to hug her or touch her. There was a coldness, but there was also strength. She decided the coldness was not truly lack of emotion, but rather her looking at him through modern eyes. A man from her time would have put his hand on her, either around her waist or her shoulders, yet Brian was trying very hard to keep a distance.

  Inside, she could see the obvious difference between this house and Bettie’s. Bettie had some nice things, but her house reminded her more of historic homes she had visited where people had actually lived there. Brian’s house looked like a palace inside. Marble floors greeted them at the door and flowed seamlessly with the marble columns of the foyer. A marble stairway swept up around the curve of the wall and disappeared into the ceiling. In the center of the foyer was a round table with a centerpiece of twisted grape vines with red flowers tucked into the twists. The flowers looked odd to her, or rather out of season.

  “Where did you get these flowers in the dead of winter?” she asked.

  “My mother grows them in the conservatory. They are native to France, brought here by ship in a glass terrarium.”

  “Oh. They are lovely.” She leaned in to smell their fragrance.

  His lips curled up in the corners again showing he was pleased she liked them. He reached out and took a blossom from its crevice and tucked the short stem behind her braid next to the French twist of her bun. Admiring her, he took her hand and kissed the back of her knuckles.

  “Your beauty is only matched by the wonder of God’s flowers.”

  The heat crept up her neck slowly engulfing her face. She knew she had a full-fledged blush.

  “Oh Brian, how lovely. Your guest has arrived. I have been looking forward to meeting you Miss Walling
sford.” A handsome woman about her mother’s age floated into the foyer and stopped in front of them.

  “Yes, Momma. This is Miss Lily Wallingsford of Frankfort.” Turning to Lily. “May I present my mother, Mrs. Charles Everbright.”

  Lily was not sure what the appropriate response should be. She decided a bobbing curtsy was probably best and attempted one as gracefully as she could. It seemed to please Mrs. Everbright who nodded approvingly.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” she added.

  “Yes, yes, and you, too, dear. It’s so good of you to take on the students of Stephensport on such short notice and apparently on your retreat from your duties in Frankfort.”

  “Yes, well, it’s no problem.”

  “Brian, dear, would you see what’s keeping your father? I would love a chance to get to know our guest better.”

  Brian bowed apologetically to her and left the room.

  “Now, dear, let’s sit, shall we?” She motioned toward a blue velvet settee’ near a fireplace with a low fire. Lily sat with her body turned slightly toward the older woman. She could feel the soft heat of the fireplace on her arm.

  “Mrs. Everbright, your home is beautiful.”

  Mrs. Everbright waved off the compliment as though that fact was a given. “Yes, well, Charley likes it. Personally, I would rather be back in New York. I miss the city.”

  Lily could not imagine that whatever home they had in New York could have been any nicer than this. She must be homesick.

  “How long has your family been in Kentucky?” Lily asked.

  “It’s been five years. Charles followed the McCracken brothers here when they decided to make their fortune in the wilderness. He figured if it was good enough for them, it was good enough for us. After all, someone has to sell them nice clothes.”

  “Wilderness,” Lily repeated, mulling over the comparison to New York.

  She noticed the pale cream crepe dress Mrs. Everbright wore. Small folds of fabric on the bodice had pearl beads sewn into them with green and maroon embroidered flowers and leaves. A maroon velvet ribbon circled the neckline and made a collar. Her whitening blond hair was swept up into waves and held by delicate combs encrusted with tiny pearls. The pearls were the same color as her hair so that you would have missed them if you weren’t sitting this close and looking.

  “So, do you have other children besides Brian?”

  Her mouth rose in a sweet smile but her eyes didn’t share the sentiment, “Yes. I have a daughter. She is still in New York. I miss Eva very much.”

  “I see. She doesn’t get to visit much?”

  “No. But do tell me about Frankfort and your family.”

  “Frankfort is pretty in the spring time. Redbuds bloom first after the long winter with pinkish purple buds. There is a great deal of rock in the hillsides which you can see when there is no foliage. The wet limestone and purple buds make it a beautiful place that time of year.”

  “That sounds lovely.”

  “I live with my mom and dad. Dad is a state worker.”

  Mrs. Everbright’s forehead crinkled up with confusion.

  “I mean, he works at the capitol. He works in a lawyer’s office in the capitol.”

  “Oh! I see. Do you see Governor Buckner or his wife much?”

  “Hm, no. I don’t. I guess I’m just very busy with teaching, you know.”

  “I see. He seems most disagreeable to me. Vetoing everything. Personally, I am hoping John Young Brown is successful in his bid to succeed him. I think he would do great things for this state.”

  Lily tried to remember if this Governor Brown was related to the governor by the same name that served Kentucky in the 1980s. Surely not, but how coincidental would that be to have the same name.

  “I guess so. I’m not as familiar with him.”

  “Oh my, I am boring you to tears with talk of politics, aren’t I? So, tell me what you like about teaching?”

  Lily was glad she changed the subject. “I really like getting to know my students and helping them find what motivates them to learn.”

  Now it was Mrs. Everbright’s turn to look like a fish out of water. She stared at her and blinked. “Isn’t their motivation to keep from getting in trouble?”

  “Yes and no. I don’t find that fear of punishment is the best motivator for helping students develop a love of learning.”

  “A love of learning? I don’t know of any students who love to learn. Well, you must be very good at what you do. Lord knows, if you can make those hooligans love learning, you’ll be the best teacher I have ever seen.”

  “I find that students are naturally curious and with guidance, that can push them to learn more successfully than just memorizing.”

  “Memorizing is a key part of school.” The male voice startled Lily and she jumped to turn around in her seat. Brian had been listening at the doorway. “Mother, father will be down in a moment.”

  It’s not that Lily had never heard anyone extoll the virtues of memorization. There had been plenty of parents that complained that she didn’t send home more homework to give their kids a chance to memorize facts on a study guide. It’s how they had been taught to learn and they saw no problem with it. In fact, they saw a problem with her because they thought she was too soft not giving more drills and repetitive homework.

  She was of the opinion that children needed to play after school. They needed time to discover what thrilled them by exploring their world. Making them sit to do repetitive drills after school defeated the play/learn mental process. There was no modern research that proved thirty minutes of drill at home tacked onto the school day made a hill of beans difference. One thing that had been proven was that adding play time into the school day improved test scores. More creative play exercised the mind. It taught it to reason, imagine, predict and reflect. Those were all the things she wanted her students to do at school.

  Naturally students needed guidance to apply those skills to be become educated, but without play, the students had no idea what she was trying to get them to do. The one thing she didn’t have to teach them was to dream. As long as that had not been squashed out of them, as it apparently had been with the girls, she could guide them to apply what they already knew how to do to what they had never thought of before.

  That was true learning, not stuffing random facts in their brain that could be regurgitated. Without the ability to process the facts, facts were useless knowledge.

  “Mr. Everbright, have you had any training in education theory?”

  “No. No, I haven’t, but I know what it takes to be successful in life.”

  “Of course you do. You are a successful business man. Did you learn everything you needed to know about business in grammar school?”

  He glared at her now. She could tell he did not like being questioned. “Obviously not. I worked with my father in his store after school. But I could not have learned to run the business if I didn’t know how to write and do arithmetic.”

  “But you do agree that teaching every student to read and do arithmetic will not make them all successful business men?”

  “Of course. I also like to think business acumen runs in my blood. Not all students have that advantage.”

  “Oh, I agree. There are different abilities that make a great difference. What I’m saying is that being taught how to think, by applying skills all children naturally have at their disposal, would give all students a chance to be successful at anything for which they have an advantage.”

  He didn’t speak right away, thinking it over. Finally, he raised his chin so that he looked down his nose at her. “My dear, many of those students will never have any advantage. Their lot is to plow the ground or make stew and produce squalling new students who will do the same as their fathers and mothers. Filling their heads with useless thoughts and dreams only hinders them. It’s cruel, really. Many of the students in our school have no business even being there. I don’t subscribe to the whole ‘education for a
ll’ mantra, but that’s what is expected these days.”

  With a wave of nausea, she felt like a brick was lodged in her stomach. She had surely found the most backward-minded education administrator that ever existed. Faced with someone so diametrically different in education philosophy stumped her. Worse yet, this was her boss. If she was going to follow her instincts about how to proceed, she would have to do it without letting him know.

  “Then I will have to help them become the best farmers, stew makers and squalling baby producers they can be,” she offered.

  He and Mrs. Everbright both looked at her trying to figure out her statement. It had a sharp edge, to be sure.

  Finally, the butler broke the awkward silence by announcing that dinner was served. The ladies got up and they all filed into the hallway. The dining room did not fail to impress her. The Gilded Age loved the Sun King. Louis the XIV would have felt right at home. Golden side boards with marble tops held silver tourines and platters of delicacies. The long table with silver, china and crystal settings was crowned with a chandelier that was nearly as big as the table. Lavish picture frames held portraits of grumpy elders gracing the walls. Every meal was a family reunion with their disapproving eyes.

  Brian pulled out an upholstered chair with golden silk fabric for her. She sat and he scooted it forward before the footman pulled out a chair for him. He sat at the end of the table nearest to her. At the other end of the table sat his mother in the mirror image place of Lily. The seat at the far end of the table was vacant.

  Lily waited patiently for a clue as to what to do next. She knew manners at this time were strict and unforgiving. She hoped that if she just did whatever Mrs. Everbright did, she would be alright. The door to the hallway opened and an older gentleman appeared walking straight in. He didn’t seem to take any notice of them. His clothing was impeccable. Dark tuxedo with a vest and detachable collar with wings. A black silk tie was tucked into the vest. The jacket appeared small compared to the boxy suits of the modern time. Even his coat sleeves seemed too short. It made his upper body look small to her. It was the style of the time, though, she knew. It reminded her of a photo of Charlie Chaplin she’d seen.