by Jane Peart
The day after her arrival, Garnet sat with her mother in the small parlor adjoining the downstairs bedroom Kate now occupied and wondered if she should share her news about Blythe’s whereabouts before telling Rod.
For a while they talked about the forthcoming wedding. Garnet could hear Kate’s maid, Annie, singing in a nearby room as she packed Kate’s trunk for the journey to Massachusetts.
“It hardly seems possible that Jonathan is old enough to marry!” Kate remarked, shaking her silvered head in disbelief. “The years have gone by so quickly—”
“I know,” Garnet agreed as she poured tea into their Spode cups, adding lemon and sugar to her mother’s before handing it to her. ‘Whenever I think of Jonathan—even now—I always remember the day Rose died and I went in to him. He was standing in his crib crying, and I picked him up and held him, realizing for the first time that he was now my responsibility. I was never so frightened in my life. Never felt so completely inadequate.”
Kate nodded, her eyes misty, remembering.
“Yes, such a tragedy, and yet we must believe it was all for some purpose.”
“The fire? Rose’s death? The war? Do you really believe that, Mama?”
Kate smiled faintly as she quoted, “‘God’s ways are not our ways.’ I’ve learned over the years, Garnet, that it doesn’t do to question what happens. We just have to accept the events that come into our lives and move on as best we can.”
“Oh, Mama, I wish I could have that kind of faith,” Garnet sighed. “I try, I really do, and sometimes I think I’ve reached some kind of understanding—then something happens and I’m … angry, or frustrated, or bewildered.”
Kate reached over and patted her daughter’s hand.
“You’ve come a long way, darling. I’ve seen the maturity, the mellowing in you. When I remember how you managed Montclair, the servants, an invalid, the children, all of it, during the war … well, it was rather remarkable. And now you’ve a wonderful husband, a beautiful daughter—everything you’ve always wanted.”
Garnet set her teacup down.
“But I didn’t get the man I thought I wanted,” she said in a rare burst of confidence, not sure that her mother had ever suspected her hopeless passion for Malcolm Montrose.
“But you got the man God knew you needed,” Kate replied serenely. “Who knows what sorrow would have been yours if you had married Malcolm. Look what happened to poor little Blythe.”
It was the opening Garnet had hoped for. “Mama,” she said, watching Kate closely, “I know where Blythe is.”
Surprise widened Kate’s eyes and Garnet rushed on.
“She’s been living in England for years! In fact, I’m sure I once saw her on the platform of Victoria Station in London. That was a long time ago, and of course I didn’t have the slightest idea where she was living or how to get in touch with her. I was going to tell Rod about it, but then he and Fenelle got engaged and he seemed so happy that I didn’t want to risk hurting him again.”
“Oh, my dear!” sighed Kate. “Yes, it would only have upset him.”
Garnet leaned forward. “What about now, Mama? Is there anyone? Or has Rod resigned himself to permanent bachelorhood?”
Kate waved away the suggestion. “Surely not! Rod is still a handsome man, enormously eligible with all this. He’s been master of the hunt for the last two years, and there are always parties, balls, young women who find him fascinating. But—” she shrugged. “In my heart, I don’t believe he ever got over Blythe. You said you know where she is now?”
Garnet hesitated a split-second before answering. “Mama, she is in Virginia, not forty miles from here. Outside of Arbordale. And she has a son. Malcolm’s son. He attends Brookside School for Boys.” Garnet sat back, watching her mother’s reaction.
“You’re sure? How do you know this?” Kate gasped.
Quickly Garnet filled her in on meeting Lydia Ainsley at the Sewell’s dinner party and how she had learned about Blythe.
“What do you think he’ll do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he won’t want to stir old embers after all these years. That will be up to him to decide.”
Garnet looked puzzled. “What I can’t understand is why she never got in touch with him when they were both free. Do you think she no longer loves him?”
Kate shook her head. “Who can say? Only Blythe can answer those questions and only Rod can ask them.”
“To think she had Malcolm’s child after she left here! That means—” Garnet sat up straighter—“that he is … Jonathan’s half-brother, Mama! Shouldn’t Jonathan be told he exists?”
Kate’s expression indicated that was something that had not occurred to her before.
“I suppose you’re right. But isn’t that Blythe’s decision to make?”
Garnet’s face flushed, her eyes snapping in indignation. “Do you think it was right for her to keep all this secret? Didn’t she have any idea what Rod was going through?”
“Garnet, dear, I long ago stopped trying to understand other people’s motives for what they do. Blythe must have had her reasons. Maybe it will all be resolved when Rod knows.”
“Why did she come back, I wonder? To Virginia and so near Mayfield if she didn’t want people to know where she was?” Garnet wondered aloud in spite of her mother’s sage comment.
Kate did not venture a guess, and just then Annie came into the room to ask her about some costume she was packing for her mistress, and Kate followed her maid back into the bedroom.
Left alone for a few minutes, Garnet toyed with the possiblity of riding over to Arbordale herself someday before they left for Jonathan’s wedding in Massachusetts. She would like to meet Blythe face to face, woman to woman, and find out for herself the truth of why she had left Mayfield the way she did, why she had, in Garnet’s opinion, abandoned her brother so heartlessly.
The more Garnet thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed that she should confront Blythe. It was not just to satisfy her curiosity, Garnet rationalized. Blythe must have had her reasons, however strange and obscure they might be. Whatever was behind Blythe’s mysterious disappearance, wouldn’t it be better for Garnet to know before she told Rod what she had found out from Lydia Ainsley? Wasn’t it, in fact, her sisterly “duty” to save Rod further humiliation and disappointment?
Garnet had always been impulsive, and, though she assured herself repeatedly that she had given the matter much thought, her decision to actually drive over to Arbordale was spur-of-the-moment.
Kate’s dressmaker had come to the house for some final fittings of the gowns she was having made to take to Massachusetts and Garnet, on the pretext of having some last-minute errands, went off to town by herself.
At the gate, however, instead of turning toward Mayfield, she determinedly turned her barouche to the left and headed for Arbordale.
However, upon reaching the ferry dock, she was chagrined to be told by the ferry boat driver that the house on Hunter’s Island was closed, the residents gone for the summer.
Milford, Massachusetts
June, 1885
Since this was Garnet’s and Kate’s first visit to New England, they had not known what to expect in the town of Milford. They were pleasantly surprised at its early summer beauty, the impressive houses, beautifully kept lawns, tree-shaded streets, the orderliness of its town center, and its historic buildings.
They were just as impressed by Davida’s father, Kendall Carpenter. Mr. Carpenter met them at the train station, saw to their luggage, assisted them into his handsome carriage, and escorted them to the Sheffield Manor Inn where reservations had been made for them to stay during the week before the wedding.
His gracious courtesy reminded Garnet of another former officer, her beloved Jeremy. When she remarked on this to Kate in the privacy of their spacious suite, Kate added, “He was a classmate of Malcolm’s at Harvard and came from an educated, well-born family.”
“We certainly saw a different kind of Yan
kee during the war!” Garnet declared, remembering the raids on Montclair that had taken place more than two decades before.
“Well, dear, we must let bygones by bygones.” Kate said. Memories of the war years were still too poignantly painful for her to recall.
“Sorry, Mama!” Garnet was at once abject and gave her mother a spontaneous hug. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it. To change the subject, I can hardly wait to meet Davida, can you?”
Davida had not been at the train station with her father as she was attending a party in her honor that afternoon, he explained, but she was looking forward to seeing them that evening.
“From Jonathan’s descriptions in his letters, she is not only beautiful but also a paragon of virtue and intelligence.” Garnet’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “So what shall I wear tonight to meet such a model of goodness and charm?”
Kate took off her bonnet, then sat down in one of the cushioned boudoir chairs and smiled affectionately at her daughter, who still had the talent to amuse her.
“Well, I suppose you just might find something suitable in the trunkload of fashions you saw fit to bring with you, my dear,” she teased.
Garnet turned her attention to the contents of the open steamer trunk the bellboy had just brought up. He had deposited it with such huffing and puffing and exaggerated wiping of his forehead that Garnet had been prompted to give him a more generous tip than she had planned.
Her wardrobe was lavish, thanks to Jeremy’s unrestricted clothes allowance, enabling Garnet to indulge her penchant for beautiful things. Maybe it was the years of deprivation and poverty brought on by the war that made her now so extravagant, although she always justified it by saying Jeremy insisted on her being fashionably dressed.
Bringing out one outfit after another, Garnet modeled them for Kate, pivoting before the full-length mirror for her mother’s opinion. They finally agreed on a jade green moire silk that set off Garnet’s gold hair and amber-brown eyes.
Then while Garnet unlocked her leather traveling jewel case to select the right accessories, she asked Kate, “When do you think Rod will get here?”
“It depends on when he left Lexington and what kind of train connections he could make. I’m not sure how often trains come from Boston to Milford.”
Garnet picked out earrings of filigreed gold studded with tiny emeralds and a matching brooch. Glancing over at her mother, she noticed Kate looked pale and had leaned her head against the chair back and closed her eyes.
“Mama, you’re tired, aren’t you? Why don’t I have some tea sent up. It will be some time before we’re due at the Carpenters for dinner.” Garnet walked over to the wall bell to ring for room service.
“I am feeling a little weary, dear,” Kate admitted.
As if by magic a maid appeared in answer to the bell and took their order for tea and sandwiches. In another few minutes a waiter was at the door bearing a large tray.
As they sipped their tea and nibbled on sandwiches of thinly sliced ham, and cheese, Garnet remarked, “I can’t imagine what Rod’s reaction is going to be when I tell him about Blythe.”
A small frown drew Kate’s brows together. “I hope it’s the right thing to do, Garnet. I sincerely pray it won’t start up all the old heartache again. What if she doesn’t want to be found? Have you thought of that?”
Garnet shook her head. “Mama, I have to tell him what I know. The last time I kept silent about her, it haunted me. It’s bothered me all these years. There’s no way I can keep this from him. What he does about it—” she shrugged. “Well, that’s his decision.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
Kendall Carpenter called for the ladies promptly at six as he had promised. Garnet could not help noticing how splendid he looked in evening clothes, remembering with a sharp little tug of memory the last time she had seen him—that day when as a Union cavalry officer, he had ridden up to Montclair and Rose had confronted him on the porch.
Anxious for her husband, Bryce, home on leave and hidden upstairs in the secret room, Garnet had peeked at Kendall from behind the louvered doors while Rose had coolly entertained her former beau in the parlor, successfully distracting him so that the house was never searched. How brave Rose was, Garnet thought in retrospect.
When they drove up to the Carpenter’s stately pink brick house, a tall, smiling Jonathan stood with his fiancée on the porch steps, and they saw Davida was every bit as pretty and winsome as he had described.
As the carriage drew to a stop, Jonathan came running down to welcome his aunt and her mother. “It’s so good to see you, Auntie ‘Net!’ he exclaimed. “And, Miss Kate, you’re as lovely as ever!”
“I can see you haven’t lost your southern gentleman’s manners!” Kate smiled and reached up to pat his cheek.
Shyly Davida started down the steps toward them.
“And this is Davida,” Kate said softly. “Oh, my dear, we are so happy to meet you, so glad about your promise to Jonathan. You have obviously made him a very happy young man.”
Jonathan beamed proudly as Davida slipped her hand through his arm.
Davida must look like her mother, Garnet mused, for she bore no resemblance to her strong-featured father. Davida’s were delicate, and her eyes were hazel with long, sweeping dark lashes. She had a sweet smile, but there was something stubborn in the set of her firm little chin. This young lady was accustomed to having her own way, Garnet decided. Jonathan was going to have his hands full with this independent little miss—her father’s only child, a precious, pampered daughter. Well, it takes one to know one! Garnet thought, amused at herself.
But Garnet had no more time to dwell on these fleeting thoughts, for Kendall was ushering them üp the steps into the delightful interior of the house, charmingly decorated and exquisitely appointed. Davida’s touch, no doubt, Garnet thought, throwing a speculative glance Kendall’s way.
There was more here than met the eye, she realized. Evidently, Davida had not only been her father’s pride and joy, but also his housekeeper and hostess. Would he be lost without her? Was he giving her up with resentment as well as regret? Or did he not plan to give her up at all?
Garnet had not heard what the young couple’s plans were to be when they returned from their honeymoon trip to the Holy Land. As they all sat down in the parlor, Garnet looked around curiously. Were they perhaps planning to move in here with Kendall?
Her curiosity was soon satisfied when she heard Davida say animatedly to Kate, “As soon as we’ve had some refreshment, I want to take you next door to see Jonathan’s and my little house—a wedding gift from darling Daddy!”
So then Kendall was not letting his one lamb stray too far from the pasture, after all! Garnet surmised, unconsciously casting an eye toward Jonathan to see if she could read his thoughts. But he was gazing adoringly at Davida and seemed “pleased as punch” at the entire situation.
After a prolonged inspection of the “doll house” located practically in the back yard of Kendall’s home, they went back to have dinner, a delicious meal perfectly served by a crisply uniformed maid.
“I do hope you don’t mind having guests drop in,” Davida said during dessert. “Everyone in Milford is so anxious to meet Jonathan’s relatives … I mean, his Southern relatives. They already know the Merediths, of course. I mean, who doesn’t know the Merediths? They practically run the town, what with the mill and all.” Davida’s went on gaily. “I understand from Jonathan’s Aunt Frances that she is giving a reception for you so that others can meet our out-of-town visitors before the wedding.”
Garnet did not dare look at her mother. It was a strange sensation indeed to be called “out-of-town visitors” after a lifetime of living in Mayfield and being recognized as one of the most prominent families in that part of Virginia.
A pleasant social hour followed as a dozen or so friends of the Carpenters called to express their pleasure in meeting Garnet and Kate and also to extend congratulations to the engaged coupl
e. After the guests had left, Garnet, seeing that her mother was visibly tiring, made their excuses, and Kendall drove them back to their hotel, offering to come for them the next morning to take them to church services.
Garnet, also feeling the fatigue of travel and the excitement of the day, was eager to retire, but when she went to pick up the room key at the desk, she was informed that her brother had arrived and left a message. Given his room number, Kate and Garnet hurried upstairs, anxious to see him.
A tan, healthy-looking Rod opened to their knock and gave each of them up in an affectionate embrace.
“Come in, come in! I’m just finishing my dinner.” He pointed to the table behind him, set for one.
“So late?” Kate asked.
“I just got the last train out of Boston,” he explained, drawing up chairs for them at the table. Then he motioned to the wall bell. “May I order something for you … chocolate … tea?”
His mother held up her hand. “Oh, nothing for me, dear. We have just dined at the Carpenters’… unless Garnet—”
“No, thanks!” Garnet shook her head. “I’ve had a ‘gracious plenty,’ as we say down home. In fact, I do believe I’ve had an overabundance of ‘Yankee hospitality’!” she remarked with a touch of her old mischief. “But I am perishing to have a good chat with you, brother mine.” Cocking her head, she leaned forward. “Was your trip successful?”
“Indeed, yes! But talk about hospitality! I’m convinced those Kentuckians nearly outdo Virginians. They kept trying to load me down with hams and who knows what else! It didn’t seem to matter that I still had a long train ride ahead and a wedding to attend.” Rod laughed, then asked, “And speaking of weddings, how is the happy bridegroom?”
“Delirious and completely dazzled.” Garnet rolled her eyes.
