Loveswept

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Loveswept Page 15

by Murray, Tamela Hancock


  “Very well.” Delmar lifted his nose in the air as he rose from the sofa. “In that case, I’m sure your sister will welcome my attentions.”

  “My sister?” Cecily stood to her full height. She felt a surge of anger flood her face with heat.

  “Now who’s jealous?” Delmar didn’t conceal his feeling of victory from his voice or pleased expression.

  “No, indeed. Your quick dismissal of me and willingness to move on so quickly only serve to prove my point. It seems as though you had this all planned out. If I turned you down, you would simply move on to my sister. Your motive is a match with an Eaton rather than any desire to spend the rest of your life with me, as a person.”

  “Think what you will.” Delmar’s voice was dismissive.

  His cavalier attitude only served to stoke her ire. “I’ll be certain to pass my feelings on to Augusta.”

  “You are at liberty to do so. But the final decision is hers alone.”

  Before Cecily could answer, the maid entered the room with a tray containing two cups of tea and two slices of cherry pie.

  “I would suggest that you stay for dessert,” Cecily said, “but I’m afraid I’ve lost my appetite.”

  Thirteen

  Cecily watched as Delmar slowly crossed the verandah, lumbered down the seven steps to the green lawn, and began his journey along the curved brick walkway to his waiting buggy. She waited for a feeling of regret. The tugging at her heart didn’t come. Instead, her sense of relief grew with each step he put between them.

  She did not feel alone. Jesus was with her in spirit, holding her elbow, leading her along in life. His guidance she obeyed as events unfolded and Delmar walked away from her. She realized a Christian must rely on Jesus’ leading and not on one’s own desires. He waits to show His path.

  The rustle of a Sunday dress accompanied by a faint smell of rose water indicated that Augusta had entered the room. Not ready to talk, Cecily didn’t acknowledge her.

  Augusta, never one to let silent hints override her eagerness to find out the truth, didn’t wait for Cecily to start speaking. “So, what happened?” Augusta’s voice held an edge of uneasiness as she drew back the curtain to watch the departing suitor. “Delmar doesn’t look too happy.”

  “I know.” Cecily noticed that Delmar seemed to be observing his feet as he walked away.

  “Uh-oh. It must not have been good. So he still didn’t propose? What’s he waiting for?” Augusta let out an exasperated breath.

  Cecily looked over the top of Augusta’s chignon to a small tintype of Aunt Agnes that had been a fixture on the wall as long as she could remember. Her deceased aunt’s stare seemed to reprimand her. Cecily swallowed, determined to ignore the imagined reproof.

  “He did propose. Yesterday.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

  Augusta clapped her hand to her mouth. The sound brought Cecily to full attention. “Yesterday! Why didn’t you say anything?” She moved her hands to her hips. “How could you keep such a big secret from me? I thought we always told each other everything!”

  “I know, but. . .” Augusta’s emphatic reaction left Cecily wishing she hadn’t been so candid. “Well. . .I uh. . .”

  “Cecily, you’re not saying you. . .” Augusta’s eyes were so wide that Cecily thought they would pop right out of their sockets. “You didn’t turn him down, did you?”

  Cecily wished she didn’t have to admit to Augusta the truth. If breaking the news to her sister was this difficult, how could she possibly tell Mother?

  “This is just what I was afraid of,” Cecily said in her defense. “I knew you would try to convince me to marry him. And well, I knew I wasn’t going to accept his proposal.”

  “What do you mean?” Augusta held her arms straight at her sides and clenched her fists in obvious frustration. “Cecily, how could you?”

  “How could I? You act as though you’re crazy about Delmar.” Cecily tossed her head dismissively. “If you like him so much, then why don’t you have Father invite him to court you? Delmar suggested as much when I told him I wouldn’t be his wife.”

  “You’re just saying that! You know I don’t want him!” Augusta exclaimed. “I’ve always looked upon Delmar as my future brother-in-law. The notion of courting him is, well, too fantastical to contemplate.” She looked into Cecily’s eyes. “I’m not the one who’s supposed to marry him. I’m not the one who’s giving up a perfectly good match in exchange for an infatuation with a door-to-door salesman!”

  Cecily clamped her mouth shut to keep from saying something to her sister that she might later lament.

  “Not that there’s anything wrong with selling pneumatic carpet renovators, mind you, but aside from bidding on your box, Mr. Kingsley hasn’t made his intentions clear.”

  “He did escort me to the festivities,” Cecily reminded her.

  “Only to leave early.” Augusta sniffed.

  “On business.”

  The clacking heels of Mother’s Sunday shoes sounding from the hall urged the sisters to calm themselves. By the time she crossed the doorway of the parlor, Cecily and Augusta had adopted poker faces. Upon crossing the threshold into the parlor, Mother narrowed her eyes and cocked her head in a scolding manner. “Girls! What is going on in here?”

  “Nothing, Mother,” they said in unison.

  “It sounded as though you were arguing.” She placed her hands on her hips, a gesture she shared with Augusta when exasperated. “What happened? I sent out the pie, but Hattie came back with it untouched. Why did Delmar leave without eating? That’s not like him at all.”

  Father strode up behind Mother. “I was wondering the same thing. I’ve never known Delmar to pass up a dessert. Is he ill? Or is he just too much in love to eat anymore?” Father’s teasing smile would have been welcome at any other time, but at the moment, his jesting only filled Cecily with guilt.

  Cecily tried to look into the faces of her parents but found herself staring at Father’s tie instead. Anything to keep from peering into their eyes. “I told him to leave,” she muttered.

  “My dear.” Mother rushed to Cecily’s side and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “So he didn’t speak up?”

  Cecily hesitated. With all her might, she wanted to avoid telling her parents the truth, but she had no choice. The time had come.

  Father in heaven, please give me strength.

  “He did,” she admitted.

  Mother’s mouth opened, and she took in a breath with such force that Cecily thought she might fly out of the room. “How wonderful! After all this time. Well, we must immediately make arrangements! When is the date? This summer, perhaps?” She set her eyes on the adjacent wall in the direction of Mrs. MacGregor’s house. “I must tell—”

  “No!” Cecily said with enough emphasis to stop Mother’s frantic train of thought. “It’s not what you think. I turned him down.”

  Mother stopped cold. “Turned him down?” She rushed to the sofa and plopped onto a generous cushion. Father took a seat beside her.

  “He proposed yesterday,” Cecily admitted.

  “Yesterday?” Mother and Father said in unison.

  “Yes.” Cecily faced her parents. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before. I should have given Delmar his answer yesterday and saved everyone a lot of trouble, but I couldn’t. He insisted I take some time to think about it. I did, and I prayed about it. I just don’t feel led to marry Delmar.”

  Mother’s eyes widened. “Even if it means you’ll always be a. . .a. . .”

  “Spinster,” Cecily concluded. “Yes. I’ve decided I’d rather be a spinster than live out my life with a man who isn’t the one for me.”

  “She’s waiting for Mr. Kingsley,” Augusta noted.

  “I never said that,” Cecily blurted. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at Augusta, who in turn began to study the portrait of Grandmother Eaton that hung over the fireplace mantle.

  Cecily shifted her gaze to her parents’ faces. Mother�
��s was clouded with distress, while Father’s remained difficult to read. She wished they would say something. Anything. Why not go ahead and tell her that she was a terrible daughter, that their hurt and shame knew no bounds? Or they could say they would never be able to face their friends now that their daughter had turned away a man everyone else in the city thought a flawless suitor, a perfect match between the families and principles involved. Maybe they could even tell Cecily they would have to send her to the mountains in the southwest part of the state to live with her awful Aunt Fanny—perhaps to find a new suitor there. Cecily shuddered.

  Her parents’ reaction, or lack thereof, was much worse than anything they could have said.

  Father broke the quiet. “Cecily, I know I speak for your mother as well as myself when I say how proud we are of you.”

  Cecily felt her mouth drop open. “You are?”

  “Yes. It takes courage to take a chance on being a spinster for the rest of your life, to look beyond one’s pride and turn away a man we all thought was right for you.”

  “Especially considering you may never have another chance,” Mother added.

  Father squeezed Mother around the shoulders with one arm. “Cecily, I love your mother very much, and I know she feels the same about me. Neither of us would wish anything less than a lifetime in a loving marriage for you.”

  Cecily watched Mother swallow. Her face softened as the impact of Father’s words set in. After a moment, she nodded. “He’s right, Cecily. I would rather see you not marry at all than see you unhappy and in a union that is less than what God intended when He instituted marriage in the Garden of Eden.”

  “Thank you.” Cecily’s voice was just above a whisper. Now that her parents had expressed their support of her decision, a sense of liberty washed over her.

  “Well now.” Father squeezed Mother once more. He let her go and plastered a smile on his face. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t plan to let two perfectly good slices of cherry pie go to waste. Anyone with me?” He looked at the three women in anticipation.

  “Call Roger in. I’m sure he’ll be happy to finish the pie with you,” Mother advised. “I have some letters to write.” As she disappeared, Cecily felt some of her earlier burden return. Her dismissal of Delmar had served her mother a defeat, one she wouldn’t recover from too soon.

  “Tell Aunt Fanny I said hello.” Augusta’s voice emanated too much sunshine.

  “I have some things to do myself.” Cecily took steps to follow her mother out of the room.

  “Like, tell Mr. Kingsley that you’re available?” Augusta whispered.

  “No. And even if I had such plans, I wouldn’t share them with you.”

  “Don’t be mad. I don’t blame you for liking Mr. Kingsley. Really I don’t. And you said yourself he won’t be a door-to-door salesman forever.” Augusta patted her shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll win Mother and Father over. One day. One day soon, I hope.”

  Cecily’s heart felt lighter at the very thought.

  ❧

  “My, my,” Father said as Cecily entered the kitchen for breakfast the following morning. “You girls will never believe what came in this morning’s mail.”

  “I don’t care what anyone says. I tell you, I’m innocent,” Roger joked as he buttered a piece of toast.

  “If only we could believe that,” Augusta jested in return. She slid into her seat. “What is it, Father?”

  He withdrew a piece of mail from the stack. Cecily was about to sit down but stood in place when she recognized the stilted and cramped handwriting on the envelope.

  “It’s a letter from Delmar,” Father confirmed.

  “A letter from Delmar?” Mother asked, breezing into the room. “Don’t keep us in suspense, Dear. What does he say? Has he changed his mind? Is he going to give our Cecily another chance?” Her voice quickened its pace, but she managed to take her place at the end of the table.

  Cecily tried not to flinch as she sat beside Mother. After everything that had transpired the previous day, how could anyone think a match was possible? Leave it to Mother never to give up hope.

  Father studied the letter as though trying to memorize its contents. “No.” He shook his head. “Delmar has asked permission to court Augusta.”

  “What? Let me see that.” Mother took the letter and read it for herself. Her face registered shock, then indignation. With a slow, sad gesture, she set the missive on the table and shook her head.

  “Say,” Roger interrupted, “I know this is an outrage, but does it mean we have to quit eating? I’m starved, and I promised the fellows I’d meet them at the gymnasium in fifteen minutes.”

  “I will not have you consuming your breakfast that quickly,” Mother admonished. “Your friends can wait.”

  “Yes, Mother,” he mumbled.

  “Let’s have our prayer,” Father advised, which led his family to bow their heads for a word of grace.

  Cecily barely listened to the short message of thanks sent up to God for His bountiful provision. She was too eager to return to the subject at hand. “I’m not surprised by Delmar. He as much as told me yesterday that he would ask to court Augusta.” She passed a platter of steaming hot sausage and scrambled eggs flavored with cheddar cheese to her sister. “Didn’t I tell you so?”

  Augusta nodded. Cecily noted that her sister’s eyes were so wide they seemed to consume her face.

  “Not that I really believed him, mind you,” Cecily confessed as she scooped a small portion of scrambled eggs onto her plate. “I thought perhaps he was speaking in the heat of the moment.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Augusta said. “Delmar? And me? The thought seems comical.”

  “You don’t have to spare my feelings,” Cecily interrupted. “If you want to see Delmar, it’s fine with me.”

  Augusta shook her head. “I mean it. I want nothing to do with him. Ever.”

  “Good,” Father said. “Imagine the nerve! To think that one sister is interchangeable with another.” A sad expression overcame his features. “Cecily, apparently you are a superb judge of character.”

  Cecily nodded but not with a feeling of triumph.

  Augusta set down a platter of bacon with a decisive thud. “If he comes to call, I shall instruct Hattie to tell him that I am not at home.”

  “You shall do no such thing,” Father warned. “You know very well that the Ten Commandments forbid us to bear false witness.”

  Augusta looked down at the table. “I’m sorry, Father. If he comes to call, then I–I’ll think of something.”

  Mother placed her hand on Cecily’s. “I’m just glad he revealed his true colors before it was too late.”

  “Me too.”

  Mother took a sip of tea and then set down her cup with a deliberate motion. “Perhaps it’s time I didn’t try to influence your decision about what match to make. Obviously you are mature enough to discern for yourself.”

  Cecily realized how difficult such an admission was to make for a proud woman like her mother. “But not without the Lord’s help,” Cecily was more than willing to acknowledge.

  “So true,” Mother agreed.

  “Yeah,” Roger chimed between bites of bacon. “I never liked Delmar anyway. I think the carpet renovator salesman would be better. Isn’t he sweet on you?”

  The whole family chuckled. Though Cecily felt her cheeks burn hot, her relief transcended her embarrassment. Their laughter was a sure indication that at least they were no longer opposed to Averil.

  Maybe I haven’t given my parents enough credit. So what if Averil is merely a door-to-door salesman? I know he’ll never make as much money as Delmar, and I’m sure he has no family trust fund to rely on. That’s what really has my parents worried. I just know it. What they don’t realize is, I can make do on any salary. Averil is kind and a gentleman. And he is equally yoked with me. And I love him. What more could any girl wish for?

  Cecily crumpled her napkin. At that moment, she couldn�
��t remember a time when she had been more grateful that her family couldn’t read her musings. What was she thinking? Why, she had let her mind stray far beyond any promises, or hint of a promise, that Averil had made.

  Fourteen

  Averil couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t looked forward to delivering a Capital Duster Electric Pneumatic Carpet Renovator with a complete set of deluxe attachments. Under any other circumstances, he anticipated the smile of delight that always greeted him when he presented the shiny new machine in all its glory to a happy customer. Averil would make quite a show of the event. He would plug in the carpet renovator with aplomb, flip the “on” switch, then clean the customer’s front room rug so it looked as clean and new as the carpet renovator itself.

  An order that included deluxe attachments guaranteed a free cleaning of at least one sofa or chaise lounge as well, or even a room full of furniture if Averil was feeling especially industrious and generous. By the time he tipped his hat to wish the happy patron a good day, smiles covered every face in view.

  But on this day, as he made his way down the street, he had no energy or desire to crack a smile nor to clean anything. He looked upon his next stop with dread. As he led the carriage to the Eatons’, he knew he had to do his best to treat them with the respect and enthusiasm with which he would greet any other customer.

  I hope Cecily isn’t there. Or if she is, I pray I can avoid her. Perhaps she’s at a church meeting or seeing friends. He even would have welcomed the prospect of her taking another music lesson with Professor Tobias. Anything to avoid seeing her, now that she was in all probability engaged to someone else.

  Or would he?

  No. He would put on a happy face, deliver the carpet renovator, and if Miss Cecily were home, he would wish her well. That is what he would do.

  “Yes. Yes I will.” His feelings were so adamant that he expressed them aloud. “You won’t tell anybody how crazy I am, will you, General?” he asked his horse. “I don’t know about you, Major,” he said to the new horse he had purchased now that he needed to get around by carriage. “You know, around here, we don’t betray one another’s confidences.”

 

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