by Marie Silk
Later that evening, Ethan dressed in a suit and tie for dinner. He went into the house early and found Mrs. Price in the library. “Ethan,” she greeted in surprise. “You are looking well tonight.”
“I’m sorry for the way I acted the other day,” Ethan told her, looking ashamed. “I should’ve talked to you before sending Mr. Harvey home, and I should’ve been civil when you came to ask me about it.”
“Well it’s in the past now,” Mrs. Price replied peaceably. “I am glad to see you have come to have dinner with us tonight. You’ve not taken a rest in a long while.”
“I guess my hunger got the better of me,” Ethan replied shyly. “I also needed to speak to you. Firstly to apologize, and second to tell you…Samuel might be the right one for the job. I’m ashamed to admit he may even be more qualified than me.”
“Well! It is the highest recommendation I have ever heard,” Mrs. Price stated. “I told the boy that his employment here would be on trial for weeks. When you are certain, Ethan, you may tell him that his employment will be permanent. You must be pleased that it means you can move to your house in Philadelphia now.”
Ethan looked at the floor. “I don’t know when we will move, Mrs. Price. We might stay here for awhile, if it’s alright with you and Clara.”
Mrs. Price looked at him compassionately. “You may stay as long as you need.”
Abigail was not at dinner that night, but everyone else seemed to be in high spirits. William told them about the his new intern from Pittsburgh, and Mrs. Price announced that the new groundskeeper was going to be hired permanently.
“We will miss you and Abigail, now that you are moving,” Clara said to Ethan. But he was looking down at his plate.
“Ethan has offered to stay as long as necessary to ensure Samuel is trained for the job,” Mrs. Price stated. Ethan gave her a look of gratitude.
“I have news,” Mary said, grinning at William who sat across from her. “I met with the minister, and we have set a date for our wedding!”
Cheers erupted from around the table and William smiled endearingly at Mary, wishing he could be close enough to hold her hand. Everyone ate their food heartily, and soon Mary was with William at the front door, telling him goodnight.
“Will you come again for dinner tomorrow?” she asked him.
“I am planning on it,” he replied. “May I kiss you goodbye?”
“I won’t let you leave until you do,” Mary answered.
William chuckled as he leaned in to kiss her, and said exactly what was on his mind. “I cannot wait to marry you.”
Chapter 12
Mary and Clara were alone at the breakfast table the next morning. “I wonder why Mother is not here for breakfast,” Clara said curiously. “It has been lonely enough without Abigail to eat with us.”
“A strange thing happened in town with Abigail,” Mary said. “I wish I could help in some way, only I do not know what is wrong with her.”
“Neither do I,” Clara said. “She received several letters from her family in Johnstown last week. Perhaps something has happened to one of them.”
“It would be terrible if it had,” Mary thought aloud. “But surely if it was a problem with her family, she would have told us. And it does not explain why she has moved into the house without Ethan.”
“I do not mean to be a gossip, but I wonder if Phillip knows something,” Clara remarked. “He has been lately taking her to town. I did not think it right to ask him, though.”
“It probably is not,” Mary agreed. “I think I will ask Abigail if she would like to ride the horses with me after breakfast. We will not have many more opportunities before she moves away.”
“Have a good time, Mary,” said Clara. “I’m going to check on Mother, then I will be busy with my studies for the rest of the day.”
Mary went to Abigail’s room and knocked on the door. “Come in,” said Abigail, sitting up on the bed. “Oh, good morning, Mary. I thought you were Bridget.”
“I hope it is still alright that I came in.”
Abigail giggled. “Of course it is. I am glad to see you.”
Mary smiled hopefully. “I came to invite you for a ride with me. It might be just the thing to cheer you up, and we do not need to talk about anything.”
“You are kind to ask, but I’m afraid I cannot ride today,” Abigail answered sadly. She was unable to say more because Clara suddenly burst into the room in distress.
“I cannot wake her, Mary!” she cried.
Mary’s heart was racing as she hurried to Mrs. Price’s bedroom with Clara. Mrs. Price lay on the bed, her lifeless body cold to the touch. Clara and Mary exchanged horrified looks. “Is she dead?” Clara whimpered.
Mary could not bring herself to respond. She began to tremble, but was able to whisper the words, “We must telephone William.”
“I have just called him,” Abigail said from the doorway. “He is on his way now.” The three girls surrounded the bed and stared in silence where Mrs. Price lay. They watched in hopefulness for any sign of breath or movement from her—any hint at all that she was only in a deep sleep, and not truly gone forever. But as the girls waited in anguish for William to arrive, they only witnessed the complete stillness of Mrs. Price’s body.
William nodded sadly to confirm that Mrs. Price had indeed passed away during the night. “I am sorry, Clara,” he said gently. “It was her heart. There was nothing that could be done to save her.”
“But she was fine just yesterday! You were here last night—you saw how well she looked!”
“It is a shock to lose someone so suddenly, and I am sorry for your loss,” William replied in sorrow. “I hope you may find peace in knowing that your mother did not suffer, but passed in her sleep.”
“I can’t believe it,” Clara said, lowering herself onto the bed. “I just can’t believe it.” Abigail draped a shawl around Clara’s shoulders and offered to inform the staff. When Abigail returned with a tray of tea, Mary and William left for the sitting room.
“I am sorry, Mary. I know you admired her a great deal,” William said painfully. He put his arms around her as they stood there.
“She was the closest that I had to a mother,” Mary answered. “I cannot remember a day of my life without Mrs. Price. When Clara is ready, I will suggest that the burial be beside Mr. Davenport in the family cemetery.”
“It is as it should be,” William said, still holding her. “Mrs. Price said she wished to be buried next to Clara’s father.”
Mary pulled away and looked at him curiously. “How would you know that?”
William swallowed the lump in his throat. “She told me, Mary. She said that she could not be by his side in life, but that she wished to in death.”
Mary looked at him incredulously. “Why would she say such a thing to you?”
“She has been my patient for some time. She knew that her heart was weak, and told me of what she wished for her burial for when the time came,” William explained.
Mary backed away from him. “You knew about this?” she demanded.
“Yes,” he replied.
Mary gasped. “For how long?”
William cringed as he thought about it. “It has been months.”
Mary was aghast. “You can’t be serious! You have known that she was dying for months and never thought to mention it once?”
William looked helplessly at Mary. “I couldn’t tell you, as much as I wanted to. Mrs. Price wanted it to be this way. She did not want to be fussed over. It was her decision whether to make her condition known to her family.”
Mary shook with anger. “How could you! Do you know how we found out that she was ill? Clara found her own mother dead this morning. Now she will have to live with that horrid memory for the rest of her life! What did you think it would do to us to find out like this? If you warned us, we could have been prepared!”
“It would be against the law and against my conscience,” William told her. “It is what I meant
when I said there were things about my job that I could not tell you about.”
The more he spoke, the more furious Mary became. “I cannot believe that you had dinner with us just last night, pretending as if nothing were wrong! How could you keep such a thing from me? I know the law does not permit you to discuss your patients, but surely this was the exception! You have robbed her own daughter of the chance to say goodbye!”
“I know you’re upset right now. You have every reason to be, and it will be an emotional time for everyone in the house. Perhaps I should leave now and we will talk later,” William said.
“Wait—there is one thing I want to know before you leave,” Mary said, feeling her fists clench at her sides. “If I was already your wife, then would you have told me about this?”
William swallowed the lump in his throat. He had never seen Mary this angry before and he was worried about how she would react to his answer. “No, I would not.”
Mary crossed her arms over her chest and felt tears of rage blinding her. “I suppose I did not know what I was agreeing to when I said I could be a doctor’s wife. I don’t see how I could live with you, now that I know you could keep such secrets from me.” Mary turned her back to William and faced the window.
“I need you to understand this, Mary,” he said. “Now is not the time to make decisions about us.”
“I have already made my decision,” Mary replied, still facing the window. “I want you to leave and never come back.” She heard the double doors open and close behind her, then she turned around to find herself alone in the room.
Abigail heard the shouting from the sitting room, then observed that William was hurrying out of the house. “William!” she called before he reached the front door.
He turned around with tears in his eyes. “Are you alright, Abigail?” he asked.
“Don’t worry about me just now,” she said. “What did Mary say to you?”
Tears rolled down his face as he replied. “She told me to leave and never come back. She does not understand.”
Abigail gasped. “Oh no! She surely does not know what she is saying. She is only in shock over Mrs. Price!”
“I can’t say I blame her for hating me,” William said mournfully. “I have been in agony every time I have been with Mary, not being able to tell her.”
“I will talk to her,” Abigail said. “She needs time to understand what has happened, and it has surely brought back memories of when she found poor Mr. Davenport.”
“She is angry with me, Abigail, and I have to leave now. Please, take care of yourself.” William turned to go out the door.
Downstairs in the servants’ lobby, the housemaids stood in silence as Fiona told them the news of Mrs. Price passing. No one could believe it, and Mrs. Malone began to cry.
“We must be sensitive to the family during this difficult time,” Fiona instructed. “We will deliver meals to their rooms until further notice. We will take them fresh trays of tea throughout the day. Let us not wait for them to ask for it, but rather let us anticipate that they will require it at regular intervals.” The servants agreed and Fiona took Nora aside. “Nora, I must ask that you help in the kitchen again. Mrs. Malone worked with Mrs. Price for many years and she now needs our support.” Nora did not answer, but Fiona could tell that she was not pleased with the request. Ethan and Samuel came through the servants’ entrance just then and met Fiona in the lobby.
“We heard about Mrs. Price,” Ethan said, hanging his head. “I am sorry for the loss of a great woman.” Fiona nodded solemnly, and also looked curiously at the young man who walked in with Ethan.
“I have come to introduce Samuel to you. Mrs. Price hired him to manage the estate grounds.” He turned to Samuel. “Fiona is the housekeeper. You will come to her if you have questions about the estate after I am gone.”
“I am pleased to meet you, Samuel,” Fiona greeted.
“Likewise,” Samuel replied. Fiona thought at once that Samuel looked familiar, but she did not know where she could have known him from. After he and Ethan left the servants’ quarters, Fiona went to ask her sister. “Bridget, do we know that young man?”
“I think so,” Bridget answered slowly. “Perhaps we have seen him around town.”
“Perhaps,” Fiona said thoughtfully, but she was sure there was another reason she felt like she already knew him.
Mary went to Mrs. Price’s room and sat down quietly beside Clara. “Is there anything I may do for you?”
Clara shook her head. “At least she did not suffer,” she said. “I cannot notify Aunt Catherine until she sends us an address. I suppose we should call the undertaker and arrange the burial.”
“We will do those things when you are ready,” Mary said gently. “There is something I should tell you that William has told me. He said your mother wished to be buried beside your father.”
“William said that? How would he know?” asked Clara.
Mary sighed heavily, and continued in the softest tone she could manage. “Apparently, your mother was seeing him for her heart condition. She knew that she was dying and told him her last wishes. She said that she did not want us to make a fuss over her being ill.”
Clara managed a slight smile. “That does sound just like Mother. I can picture her saying it right now.”
“I scolded William for keeping such a secret from us,” resumed Mary. “I told him not to come back to the house.”
“Mary, you didn’t!” Clara responded. “How could you say such a thing to the man who has done so much for us?”
“Do you mean that you are not angry with him for withholding what he knew?” Mary asked perplexed.
“How could I be? It is against the law, not to mention that it was my mother’s wish that we not know in advance,” Clara answered.
Mary sat quietly for Clara’s sake, but did not feel any change in her anger or decision to break with William.
Later that evening, Ethan carried two shovels with him when he approached Samuel in the stable. “I’m sorry I have to ask you to work late when you have only just started. If you come with me, I’ll show you the place where Clara has asked us to prepare the grave.”
Samuel nodded solemnly and followed Ethan past the woods into a small clearing. There was a wrought iron fence and gate forming the perimeter around several headstones. Ethan showed him where they would begin digging beside the headstone that read JAMES DAVENPORT. Samuel looked at Ethan and could tell at once how weary he was. “I can take care of this myself,” Samuel told him. “I’ve dug a grave before.”
“It will take you all night if you work by yourself,” Ethan argued.
But Samuel insisted. “It is the least I can do for the lady who gave me the chance to work here. Why don’t you go be with your wife, and I will see that the grave is finished by morning.”
Ethan was about to argue again, but his muscles ached and his eyelids weighed heavy. He was not sure if he had it in him to be stubborn just then. “Thank you, Samuel,” he acquiesced. “I don’t know how we got so lucky to have you come work here, but I’m sure glad we did.”
The day of the burial was dark and dreary. A light sprinkle of rain fell over the freshly dug earth in the Davenport cemetery. The undertaker brought a casket to the house, and William arrived shortly after him. Mary came down the staircase in her black mourning dress and was shocked to see William standing there. “Clara asked me to come,” he explained quietly. Mary nodded but did not speak to him. She instead went into the drawing room where Clara and Abigail were waiting sorrowfully.
The minister and the undertaker together with William and Ethan carried the casket back down the staircase. The girls followed them to the cemetery and the minister said a few words as they lowered the casket into the ground. Ethan stood with his arm around Abigail. Mary wished for a moment that she was not standing there alone in the rain. She glanced at William, who looked sadly at the casket in the ground.
After the burial, everyone walked back
to the house. Mary went straight to her room while the rest of them had a quiet meal in the dining room. Mary changed into her nightclothes and lay in bed, hoping that if she only slept tonight, tomorrow would not seem so grim.
She woke early the next morning and left her room to ask one of the maids for breakfast. Mary reached the upstairs landing just in time to see Ethan leaving the house. Bridget had just come up the servants’ stairs and was walking toward Mary. “Bridget, was that Ethan who just left?”
“It was, Miss Mary,” Bridget responded. “Mr. Ethan comes to visit Miss Abigail every morning at this time.”
“He does?” asked Mary. “I did not realize. Is Abigail awake now?”
“She is, Miss. I am just bringing her a tray of breakfast,” Bridget answered.
“Would you bring up another tray for me? I will take this one to her,” said Mary.
“Very good, Miss.” Bridget soon disappeared down the servants’ stairs.
“Abigail, I have your breakfast tray,” Mary announced, entering Abigail’s room.
“Thank you, Mary. I have been wanting to speak to you anyway,” Abigail said.
Mary sat in the chair next to Abigail’s bed. “What is it?”
“It’s about William…”
Mary felt her heart drop to her stomach and she took a deep breath. “Never have I felt so betrayed by someone I loved so much,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion.
“I understand why you are upset…but are you certain that you no longer want to marry him?” Abigail questioned gently.
“It worries me that he can keep such secrets from me and not even be sorry about it. If he does not tell the truth about this, what else might he keep from me?”
Abigail sighed. “I believe that William is a trustworthy man, and would only keep something from you if it was honorable to do so. It is part of his profession. It is part of what makes him a good doctor.”
“I know you are trying to make peace between me and William, but I don’t think there is anything you can say that will make me think what he did was the right thing. Even Clara does not seem to mind that he didn’t warn us. I get the feeling that both of you think I am wrong in this,” Mary said honestly.
