‘‘Good evenin’ to ya,’’ Rogan called, waving his hat at the welcoming committee before pulling back on the reins. ‘‘Good it is ta be seein’ ya, Mr. Houston.’’
Nolan approached Jasmine and stood beside her. ‘‘It’s good to see you also. I trust you had a profitable day?’’
‘‘Aye. Sure and it was more of a success than even we could ’ave imagined,’’ Liam replied. ‘‘Without Obadiah’s fine help, we might have lost some of the runaways. Some of ’em shied away, thinkin’ we might be bounty hunters until Obadiah put their minds to rest and told ’em we could be trusted.’’
‘‘I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone,’’ Jasmine said to Nolan’s unspoken question.
‘‘You didn’t think you could trust me?’’
‘‘Now, don’ be blamin’ the lass,’’ Liam said. ‘‘I was pretty hard on her last night, and I’m the one that caused her to keep her lips sealed. ’Course, I was na thinkin’ she’d be afraid to take someone such as yarself into her confidence. Mostly we did na want Oba-diah’s wife findin’ out he was helpin’.’’
‘‘I’ll explain later. Naomi doesn’t want Obadiah helping with the runaways,’’ Jasmine whispered. ‘‘We’re pleased all went well, but you’d better get Obadiah home or Naomi will soon be joining us. She’s likely heard the wagons and will be expecting him.’’
‘‘Right ya are, ma’am. It’s off we are,’’ he said, giving a slap of the reins.
CHAPTER• 13
ALICE WAINWRIGHT fluttered into the kitchen, where Kiara and Naomi were assisting Alice’s housekeeper, Martha. Leaning over, Alice inspected the trays of petit fours and raspberry tarts. ‘‘I presume the cakes are frosted with lemon icing.’’
‘‘For sure some are. Others have a wondrous rosehips glaze that Naomi taught us to make. Here, why don’t ya be tryin’ one?’’ Kiara offered Alice one of the cakes. She smiled and took the treat.
‘‘I don’t believe Martha and I would have been prepared for this engagement party if you two hadn’t offered your assistance,’’ Alice said. ‘‘Isn’t that right, Martha?’’
‘‘Yes, ma’am. We’re both getting much too old for these large gatherings.’’
Alice pursed her lips. ‘‘Tut, tut. Being around lots of people makes one feel vibrant and alive. Besides, Martha, you’re only as old as you feel.’’
Martha sighed and looked at the two younger women. ‘‘Then I must be at least a hundred. And I think my poor feet are even older.’’
Alice took a bite of the cake. ‘‘Oh, but that is a delightful flavor. You’ll have to leave Martha the recipe. I would very much like to serve this again.’’
‘‘I’d be pleased to, ma’am,’’ Naomi said, her gaze never quite reaching Mrs. Wainwright’s.
‘‘I do hope we’ll have enough food,’’ Alice said, gazing around the room at the trays of prepared delicacies. ‘‘It would never do to run out.’’
‘‘I’m na one to be judgin’ what ya’re doin’, Mrs. Wainwright, but I was thinkin’ Miss Jasmine said she was wantin’ just a small gatherin’ of folks fer this engagement party ya’re hostin’.’’
‘‘Exactly!’’ Martha agreed enthusiastically.
‘‘Jasmine is insistent her wedding be understated. I completely disagree with her thinking. However, I know I did not agree to a small engagement party. She may have assumed I would adhere to her wedding guidelines, but that would be purely supposition on her part.’’
‘‘Um hum. She should know better than to think you’d do things her way,’’ Martha retorted.
‘‘No need to take that sassy tone with me, Martha. You’ve known me long enough to know it will serve no purpose.’’
‘‘True enough—besides, it’s too late to change things now.
People will soon arrive. Let’s just hope the guests of honor appear before there are too many carriages lining the street. Otherwise, they may turn and go home without even stopping,’’ Martha said with a chuckle.
‘‘That’s not funny, Martha. I’m going to make certain Martin is at the front door. You may need to come and assist.’’
‘‘Martin can announce the guests without my assistance.
Besides, I’m needed here in the kitchen. Especially if it starts to look as though we’ll run out of food,’’ Martha said with a wink at Kiara and Naomi.
‘‘ ’Tis true, Mrs. Wainwright. There’s more to get done than me and Naomi can handle on our own. Me mind is willin’ but me body will na cooperate—the babe seems ta sap me energy,’’ Kiara said, patting her enlarged belly.
‘‘Fine, fine,’’ Alice said absently. In truth, she hadn’t even heard Kiara’s response. Her mind was too cluttered with the many details requiring her immediate attention. ‘‘But make certain the food is promptly served. And Naomi, if you’ll see to keeping the punch bowl filled?’’ she added.
‘‘Yessum, I’ll make certain it’s full to da brim—most of da time anyway.’’
Alice retreated from the kitchen, uncertain whether any of the three women understood the finer nuances of handling a large party. ‘‘This entire evening may turn into a disaster,’’ she muttered while walking down the hallway. She paused long enough to check her appearance in the gilded mirror. The blue and silver brocade gown was one of her favorites. And although it was a heavy material and the weather had been sufficiently warm, Alice still felt a bit of a chill. I’ve grown very old. She sighed and gave her upswept hair a reassuring pat. ‘‘But not too old to enjoy seeing my Jasmine happily married.’’ She smiled and noticed that it took years off her appearance. It gave her hope that she might yet live out many long years to enjoy her grandchildren and even great-grandchildren.
Martin was standing guard over the door like a sentry guarding the king’s castle. Alice warmed at the sight. At least someone was handling their responsibility in a serious manner. A knock sounded at the door, and with great bravado, Martin opened the door and permitted Nolan and Jasmine entrance. He turned toward Alice and with grand enthusiasm announced, ‘‘Mrs. Bradley Houston and Mr. Nolan Houston.’’
‘‘Oh, forevermore, Martin! I know who they are.’’
Martin’s face was filled with puzzlement. ‘‘But you know everyone attending the party, ma’am. I thought you said I was to announce all of the guests.’’
‘‘Jasmine and Nolan are the guests of honor, Martin. There is no need to announce my own granddaughter.’’
‘‘I see. Well, am I to announce Master McKinley or Master Samuel?’’
‘‘If the other guests have begun arriving, then you need to announce them.’’
‘‘But if Master McKinley comes downstairs before they arrive, it’s not necessary—even though Miss Jasmine and her betrothed are here?’’
Alice sighed and gave the older man a look of exasperation.
‘‘Never mind. Just announce everyone, Martin.’’
‘‘That’s exactly what I was trying to do when you said I wasn’t doing things proper,’’ he muttered.
Nolan chuckled but tried hard to mask his amusement when Martin looked his way.
Jasmine patted Martin’s arm. ‘‘This shouldn’t be such a problem, Martin. There won’t be very many guests.’’
‘‘That’s what you think, ma’am,’’ he whispered.
Jasmine followed her grandmother into the parlor. The rooms were festooned with fall foliage, candles were glowing in every corner, and chairs were arranged to accommodate guests throughout the rooms and spreading out into the garden.
‘‘How many guests have you invited, Grandmother?’’
‘‘My, don’t you look pretty,’’ Alice said, pretending to fawn over Jasmine’s dark burgundy creation. ‘‘Did you have this made in town? I don’t remember seeing it before, so it must be new.’’
Jasmine raised a dark brow. ‘‘You know very well I ordered this dress from Boston. We discussed it on more than one occasion. Now answer me. How many guests have you invited?’’
/> With a coy smile, Alice walked toward the garden. ‘‘Come see how I’ve arranged the garden, my dear. I think you’ll find it quite ingenious.’’ If she could stall long enough, the guests would arrive and eliminate—for the time—further questions from her granddaughter. ‘‘Grandmother, you are playing a game of cat and mouse,’’ Jasmine declared.
‘‘Mr. and Mrs. Matthew Cheever, Miss Violet Cheever, and Master Michael Cheever,’’ Martin announced vociferously.
Jasmine looked very seriously at her grandmother, but Alice only smiled. ‘‘I suppose,’’ Jasmine began, ‘‘you should have made this a surprise party, for I’m sure to be very surprised as the night goes on.’’
‘‘We had best go inside, for our guests are arriving.’’ Alice scurried through the door, pleased she’d been able to avoid further inquisition.
A brief time later, the rooms overflowed with laughter and conversation while the many guests circulated throughout the house.
‘‘Come along, McKinley. I have several people I’d like you to meet,’’ Alice said, grasping McKinley’s arm and maneuvering through the crowd until she reached the garden. She stopped beside Elinor Brighton only long enough for introductions and brief conversation before moving along toward several other guests.
Alice finally came to a halt beside the Cheever family. ‘‘Matthew and Lilly, you’ve already met my grandson, McKinley. I don’t know if McKinley has told you—or perhaps Violet—that he has aspirations of utilizing his education and skills for one of the many industrial enterprises here in Lowell. Isn’t that correct, McKinley?’’
McKinley grinned at his grandmother before turning his attention back to Matthew Cheever. ‘‘I certainly am interested in locating employment. Father has given me an ultimatum—if I don’t find a suitable position within three months, I must return to The Willows,’’ he replied.
‘‘Violet did mention your father departed and agreed you could remain in Lowell,’’ Matthew said. ‘‘However, she didn’t say you were seeking employment. I assumed you were merely remaining for an extended visit with your family. What type of work are you seeking?’’
‘‘So your grandmother has outfoxed you again,’’ Nolan said as he stole a moment alone with his intended.
‘‘It would seem so,’’ Jasmine replied. ‘‘Although I have to admit, I’m having a wonderful time. These guests are mostly dear friends. I suppose I cannot be cross about celebrating the happiest moment of my life with them.’’
Nolan smiled down at her and Jasmine felt her heart skip a beat. ‘‘I hope you know how happy you’ve made me,’’ he said, his voice husky.
‘‘If it’s only a portion of the happiness you’ve given me, then you must be a contented man indeed.’’
Nolan scanned the room. They’d slipped into a smaller parlor, one Grandmother seldom used. ‘‘Dare I steal a kiss?’’
‘‘Absolutely not,’’ Jasmine said with a smile. ‘‘For I shall willingly give you all that you desire. There’s no need to steal.’’
With that, he pulled her into his arms and with a tantalizingly leisurely pace, kissed her long and passionately. Jasmine felt her knees grow weak. How marvelous the way this man affected her. It was all that she had wished for in her marriage to Bradley— wished for, but never knew.
‘‘I suppose,’’ Nolan said, pulling back, ‘‘we should rejoin the others.’’
She nodded, unable to speak.
He grinned. ‘‘Or we could just elope.’’
Again Jasmine nodded, only to have Nolan laugh uproariously at her. Jasmine could only relish the moment. He pulled her back to the party, and she clung to his arm as they circulated around the room.
‘‘I’ll procure us each a glass of punch,’’ Nolan said, maneuvering Jasmine to a nearby chair.
She watched him as he strode through the well-wishers. The fact that he would soon be hers was still a marvel Jasmine could not quite grasp.
‘‘You look so happy,’’ Violet Cheever said as she joined Jasmine. ‘‘I just know your wedding will be very beautiful.’’ She sighed. ‘‘I can only hope to have such things for myself one day.’’
Jasmine laughed. ‘‘And of course you will, for you are quite lovely, and rumor has it that many a young man has been intrigued by your beauty.’’
‘‘Most of them are dowdy bores,’’ Violet said, surprising Jasmine.
‘‘I hope you do not consider my brother to be among their numbers.’’
Violet shook her head, and her expression almost took on a frightened look. ‘‘McKinley is certainly not in their number. McKinley is . . . well . . . he’s in a place all by himself.’’
‘‘Not dowdy or boring?’’ Jasmine grinned, enjoying Violet’s comments. It was very evident the young woman was more than a little interested in McKinley. And Jasmine knew from her brother’s continual questions regarding the Cheevers, particularly Violet, that he, too, was interested.
‘‘Your brother could never be boring. I find everything he says to be quite fascinating.’’
‘‘I’m sure he feels the same about you,’’ Jasmine said, leaning closer to the young woman. ‘‘In fact, I’ve noticed that he hasn’t taken his gaze from you all evening.’’
‘‘I worry that he’ll think me too forward. I’m just not myself when I’m around him. I become so extroverted and . . . well . . .
I’m even given to flirting.’’ Jasmine laughed heartily at this as Nolan rejoined them.
‘‘And whatever is so funny?’’ he asked as he handed Jasmine a glass of punch.
Violet turned red and lowered her face immediately, while Jasmine simply shook her head. ‘‘You wouldn’t understand—the talk of young women, you see.’’
‘‘Ah.’’ He took a sip of his punch before adding, ‘‘Which of course always involves young men.’’
The next morning Jasmine hastened to the front door with Spencer in tow. ‘‘McKinley—and Violet! Do come in. What a pleasant surprise. I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?’’ she asked as she led the couple into the parlor.
A broad smile spread across McKinley’s face. ‘‘I wanted to share my good news with you first.’’ Jasmine put her hand to her throat. Had McKinley proposed? Surely not. She looked to Violet as if for some sign or proof of the topic, but Violet simply smiled. ‘‘There’s nothing I love more than good news. Do tell me,’’ she said as Spencer climbed onto McKinley’s lap.
‘‘I am now an employee of the Boston Associates—hired to work as Mr. Cheever’s assistant.’’
Jasmine gaped at her brother, astonished he had so quickly secured the impressive position. At the same time, she was very glad she hadn’t blurted out some comment about a betrothal. ‘‘I’m astonished—not that I don’t believe you’re capable. But I’d think there would have been someone already working for the mills with more experience, someone they would have promoted into such an opportunity.’’
‘‘That’s what I thought when Mr. Cheever told me about the job. However, he explained he preferred someone who would come into the position without any preconceived ideas—someone who would bring a fresh perspective to the business aspects of the mills—just as he had when Mr. Boott took him on. With my knowledge of the cotton business and education in accounting, Mr. Cheever thought me the perfect choice. Needless to say, Grandmother was elated with the news.’’
‘‘No doubt,’’ Jasmine said. ‘‘She’s likely penning a letter to Father as we speak. When do you assume your new duties?’’
‘‘Monday morning. I mentioned I would immediately begin my search for another place to live.’’
Jasmine laughed and waved her hand. ‘‘Let me guess! Grandmother became indignant that you would even consider living anywhere else.’’
‘‘Exactly!’’ he said. ‘‘I thought she would prefer to return to the peaceful existence of living alone. Instead, she acted as though I had intentionally insulted her.’’
‘‘I wouldn’t consider broaching that subject again—leastwise not until you’re planning to wed and purchasing a home of your own.’’ Jasmine glanced toward Violet as she completed her comment. Violet blushed, but McKinley ignored the reference.
‘‘I doubt Father will be nearly as pleased with the news as you and Grandmother,’’ McKinley said. ‘‘I honestly believe he thought me incapable. A complete buffoon, unable to make my way in the world without benefit of my father’s assistance.’’
Jasmine could see the concern in McKinley’s expression and knew he didn’t want to remain at odds with their father. Yet he was correct: Malcolm Wainwright would not be pleased with the news.
Violet edged closer to McKinley. ‘‘I heard my father say to Mother that he thought hiring you would be pleasing to the Wainwright family.’’
‘‘What else did he say, Violet?’’ Jasmine inquired.
‘‘Just that Mr. Wainwright had been anxious to have your brother Samuel working to secure cotton for the mills and that hiring McKinley would surely reinforce the Southern cotton growers’ relationship with the Lowell mills.’’ She hesitated a moment and frowned, her forehead creased into deep wrinkles.
‘‘I’m not certain I heard all he was saying. I truly don’t listen very well when Father begins talking about business matters.’’
McKinley patted her hand. ‘‘Don’t concern yourself, Violet. At this juncture, the comments would be of little consequence. Isn’t that correct, Jasmine?’’
Obviously McKinley wanted her to assist in easing Violet’s noticeable anxiety. ‘‘McKinley is correct—the conversation changes nothing. However, I find Mr. Cheever’s reasoning quite interesting,’’ she replied.
Oliver Maxwell stepped off the train and entered the bustling Baltimore depot, pleased his journey was over. He detested traveling— which was somewhat of a troublesome matter for a man employed as a traveling salesman. However, he’d never enjoyed sharing space and being forced into conversation with total strangers, especially those who believed they had a right to pry into his personal affairs. And there had been a number of them on this journey: women making coy remarks and proud men boasting about themselves as they attempted to delve into his personal life. The remembrance caused an involuntary shiver to course through him.
A Love Woven True Page 18
