The Holiday Mail Order Bride (Holiday Mail Order Brides Book 9)
Page 8
“You carry a great burden. I hope and pray that you won't carry it much longer.”
“As do I. The sooner I get Ammy married, the better. Speaking of which, I'd best go find the bride.” Prof. Hamilton escorted Cecil to the front of the shop. They'd been sitting at a small table in the back near the professor's storeroom.
“You'll think about my offer, of course,” said the professor.
“As soon as I have Ammy settled into her new home, you've got yourself a roommate.”
“Excellent. I'm happy to have you. There's nothing worse than an unused room.”
They slapped each other on the shoulder one last time, and parted. Cecil stepped onto the boardwalk, turned, and ran smack into Mercy Vander. “Good heavens, madam! Are you all right?”
“Oh dear! I'm terribly sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going.”
“Neither was I. I'm afraid we're both victims of cause and effect.”
Mercy let out a high-pitched giggle. “How very clever, Mr. Winters. And what a lovely coincidence, my husband and I were just talking about you.”
“Oh?” Cecil said as he glanced around. “Where is your husband?”
“He’s in his office, working. A mayor's duties are many.”
“I see, and you wouldn't happen to know were Ammy and your son are, would you?”
“Why no, I haven't seen Garrett since he went to fetch your daughter from the boarding house.”
“Do you have any idea where they might be?”
“He was going to take her to the mercantile to pick up a few things, and then the dressmaker’s shop.”
“Yes, I ran into him earlier. He mentioned that. But surely they've come and gone by now.”
“He may have taken her home with him.”
“What? Home?”
“You needn't worry, Mr. Winters. Our maid Betsy is there, and she's perfectly capable of chaperoning.”
Cecil let out a sigh of relief. It didn't matter that Prof. Hamilton had just spoken so highly of Garrett Vander. Ammy was all he had, and he wanted to make sure she was protected. “I'd like to speak with your son and my daughter about the wedding arrangements.”
“Come along then. I was just heading home.”
Cecil followed Mercy to the Vander's home. He took in the picturesque house and beautiful yard. “Are those rosebushes?” he asked.
“Yes. I adore roses. They’re really quite beautiful in the summer when in bloom.”
Cecil cleared his throat. “Mrs. Vander, might I inquire where Garret and Ammy will live?”
She stopped at the gate and looked at him. “Here, of course, at least until Garrett can afford to get his own home.”
“Afford?”
“He's just starting his law practice. You know how these things take time to build.”
“You have no idea,” Cecil muttered as they went through the gate and up the walk.
Once inside the house, they spotted Ammy and Garrett having morning tea in the parlor. “Here they are,” said Mercy. “I told you he'd bring her here.”
Cecil immediately took note of the fact that they were having tea with a maid. “You weren't kidding when you said your maid was a good chaperone.”
“Yes, Betsy has tea with us all the time.”
Her words caught Cecil by surprise and he stared at her a moment before turning to Ammy. “Did you get fitted for a dress, my dear?”
She shook her head, no. “We visited the mercantile, but not the dressmakers shop. We came here for a spot of tea first.
“What a lovely idea.”
“Would you like a cup?” asked Mercy.
“Don't mind if I do.” He looked expectantly at Betsy, who sat staring at him in return.
No one spoke for a moment as they took each other in. That is, until Mercy said, “Betsy! Don’t just sit there, get the man a cup of tea.”
“Yes, ma'am,” said Betsy as she rose from her chair. “Excuse me, will you sir? I'll have to fetch a fresh cup from the kitchen.”
“Why don't you prepare another pot while you're at it?” suggested Garrett.
“I'll do that, Mr. Garrett. If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll be right back.” She picked up the tea tray and disappeared from the parlor.
Cecil stared after her before turning his attention to Ammy and Garrett. “When were you planning on going to the dressmakers shop?”
“After lunch should be sufficient,” said Garrett.
“Of course,” muttered Cecil. He turned toward the direction of the kitchen and stared.
“Is something wrong, Father?” asked Ammy.
He turned back. “No, nothing at all. This afternoon should be fine. I just want to make sure the details are taken care of.”
“Rest assured, sir,” Garrett began. “I'll see that your daughter is properly outfitted for her wedding and gets the dress she deserves.”
Cecil locked eyes with him. “See that you do, young man. A bride is only a bride once.”
Ammy smiled at him. “Thank you, Father.”
Cecil smiled back. “You want good memories of your wedding day, no matter how big or small, or the time involved.”
Ammy nodded. She knew she had to marry fast. “Thank you, I understand.”
“Well then,” said Cecil as he rocked toe to heel a few times. “Did the two of you have the chance to get to know each other better?”
Ammy blushed and nodded.
“Good,” said Cecil as he studied her. He then gave his attention to Garrett. “I'd like to see the two of you ensconced in marital bliss before the end of the week. I'm sure that can be arranged, don't you think?”
“It can take time to make a wedding gown, sir,” said Garrett. “The dressmaker may be behind on other orders. We won't know until we pay her a visit.”
Cecil cleared his throat. ‘Yes, yes, of course. That's a possibility, but I'm sure you can work around it now, can't you my lad?”
“Mr. Winters,” said Garrett. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you are in a bit of a rush to get Ammy married.”
“Rush?” said Cecil innocently. “Oh, I'm in no rush. I just want to see her settled, that's all.”
Garrett sat in silence a moment, and then looked at Ammy. “You needn’t worry about her, sir. I'll see to her comfort between now and our wedding.”
Cecil exchanged a quick glance with his daughter. Reginald's men could be only days behind them. “I'm sure you will.” Cecil would have to speak with Ammy as soon as he got a chance. She would then see that she and Garrett were wed immediately. How she was going to talk him into it, Cecil wasn't sure. But as long as she did, she would be kept safe.
Betsy entered the parlor with a fresh pot of tea, and set the tray on the table. She quickly prepared Mrs. Vander and Cecil a cup, then freshened Garrett and Ammy’s. “Will there be anything else, Mrs. Vander?”
“No, Betsy. Sit down. You too, Mr. Winters.”
“Sit down?” Cecil muttered to himself and gawked at Betsy.
Mercy smiled. “Betsy's like part of the family. She and I have tea together all the time.”
“That's not all they do together,” grumbled Garrett.
Ammy smiled. Garrett had informed her of all sorts of shenanigans that Betsy and his mother had done over the years. Betsy really was a part of their family.
Cecil stared at the maid. “I've never known a servant to sit and have tea with her employers on a regular basis.
Betsy studied him. “Mmmhmm, well, this ain’t a regular household.”
Garrett's sputtered and almost sprayed Ammy with a mouthful of tea.
“Good heavens!” cried Mercy. “Garrett, get a hold of yourself!”
“Sorry Mother,” he choked. “Went down the wrong way.”
Ammy giggled and noted how her father studied the Vander’s maid. She looked at Betsy. She was doing the same with her father. She glanced between the two of them a few times to make sure of what she was seeing. “Do you two know each other?”
“
I was wondering the same thing,” commented Cecil.
“You do seem kind of familiar,” said Betsy as she looked him over.
“Well now, wouldn't that be something?” said Mercy. “Imagine Betsy running into someone she knows way out here, and after all these years, too.”
“Yes, wouldn’t that be something?” Betsy agreed as she continued to stare at Cecil.
“I agree,” he said. “But I must admit, I can't remember where I've seen you.”
“Maybe it was someone that looked like her, Father,” suggested Ammy.
“I do have one of those faces,” said Betsy. “Folks is always thinking I look like someone they know.”
“Yes, I suppose that must be it,” agreed Cecil. But then, he wasn't so sure. Where had he seen this woman before? The better question, however, was why couldn't he take his eyes off of her?
* * *
Ammy and Cecil stayed for lunch, which, of course, allowed Mercy to fly into a flurry of wedding details. “We should march down to the dressmakers shop as soon as we’re done eating,” she told them. “There isn't a moment to lose!”
Garrett groaned. “Mother, I'm taking care of it.”
“Well dear, if you had taken care of it, it would be done.”
“We were hungry so we came to the house for tea. Now it's nearly one o'clock,” he told her.
“Well if you're going to make that much of a fuss about it, then why didn’t you leave earlier?” his mother asked.
“Because you insisted we stay for lunch, remember?”
“Oh… I did, didn't I?”
Garrett rubbed one of his temples and shook his head. “Don't worry, Mother. We’ll go as soon as we’re done.
Ammy glanced between mother and son, and couldn't help but smile as Betsy set a tureen of soup on the table and started to serve them. Mercy Vander was a fussbudget, no doubt about it. But Ammy liked the bright little woman. She reminded her of a hummingbird flying from flower to flower. Mr. Vander, on the other hand…
“Mercy! What's going on here?” Mayor Vander barked as he stormed into the dining room. “Why wasn't I told we were having company for lunch?”
“Because they were here when I came home, and so I invited them. You're not a mind reader Horace, so how could you know?”
Mr. Vander let out a little “hmph!” then took a seat at the table. “Mr. Winters, Miss Winters,” he greeted.
“Your wife was kind enough to extend an invitation,” repeated Cecil in explanation.
“No need to tell me what she has already.” He glanced around the table. “Where's my sandwich? Betsy!”
Betsy appeared out of nowhere and set a plate of two sandwiches in front of him. “They’re right here, you don't have to yell, Mr. Vander.”
“Well how am I to know you’ve made them with all these people in the house?”
“I think you better get used to that,” she muttered as she turned and left the dining room.
“What did she say?” Mr. Vander asked his wife.
Garrett put a hand over his mouth to hide a smile. He knew what Betsy meant. He said a quick blessing, then looked at Ammy and bit his lip to keep from moaning. She sipped at a spoonful of soup, and he had a sudden image of a fawn taking a cool drink of water. He'd be a fool not to marry her, but there was still the matter of the proposed business deal between their fathers. “Mr. Winters,” he said and turned to Cecil. “Tell me about your business.”
Cecil almost choked on his tomato soup. “Business? Oh, yes, my business. I'm in shipping.”
Garrett and his father eyed him suspiciously.
“How long did you tell me you’ve been in business?” asked Mr. Vander.
“I don't believe I did, sir,” said Cecil. “Twenty years, if you must know.”
“Must be nice to have someone to manage it while you’re away,” said Garrett. “Trusted men are hard to find.”
Cecil cleared his throat. “You're quite right, my boy. They're extremely…,” he glanced up Ammy. “Hard to find.”
“Well, since we’re all here, I'd like to clear a few things up,” announced Mr. Vander.
“Good idea, Father,” agreed Garrett.
Ammy put her spoon in her now empty bowl, then folded her hands in her lap. Whatever was discussed, whatever actions were taken in the near future, were because of her. She knew her father was trying to protect her, but the so-called business deal struck with Mr. Vander made her feel guilty. No, that wasn’t the right word. Burdensome.
“My son and your daughter,” said Mr. Vander, “are entering into matrimony without a penny to their name.”
Cecil gave him a solemn nod. “Except for the funds I'm providing.”
“Yes, well, as soon as those funds arrive, Mrs. Vander and I,” he said with a nod at his wife, “are willing to add to whatever you plan to give as a dowry, so that they can get the house of their choice. Not that we wouldn't love for them to live here with us, but men such as Garrett do like their privacy. I noticed there’s a lovely little house over on Chestnut Street.”
Garrett sat, a puzzled look on his face, obviously trying to think of the house mentioned.
Cecil glanced at everyone around the table. “I've sent a telegraph to my associates requesting the funds. They'll be on the way shortly.”
“Will you be returning to your home after the wedding, Mr. Winters?” asked Mercy.
Cecil looked at Ammy. “You do understand Ambrosia is my only child? After she and your son marry, I'm sure a grandchild or two will be along. I'd sure hate to miss that.”
“But how could you possibly stay?” asked Mr. Vander.
“You might have a good manager, Mr. Winters,” added Garrett. “But one so good that you would remain here?”
Cecil swallowed hard. He then looked at Mr. Vander. “After giving it some thought, I've decided to get out of the shipping business.”
“What?!” Mr. Vander bellowed as he stood. “Now see here, Winters. I thought we had a deal? What happened to letting me have a hand in it?”
“Well, you see, Mr. Vander,” began Cecil. “That might be a little hard to do.”
Ammy paled. Was her father going to come clean and tell him that he had no business? Her eyes flicked to Garrett. Would he still want to marry her?
“Why is it hard to do?” asked Mr. Vander.
Cecil sighed in resignation. “Because you see, dear sir, I no longer have a business. It's been taken from me.”
Mr. Vander plopped into his chair as his mouth fell open. He then slammed his fist on the table. “That's it! The wedding is off!”
Nine
“Off? What do you mean off?” asked Mercy.
“No son of mine is going to marry some charlatan!” roared Mr. Vander. “You lied to me, sir!” he said and pointed a finger at Cecil.
“I never lied to you, Mr. Vander. Everything I've told you about my business has been true, except, of course, the take over.”
“You offered me part of your business under false pretenses!”
“I offered you part of a business, sir. I never said it was part of my shipping business.”
“Why, you… you…” stammered Mr. Vander.
Garrett sat and watched the two older men have at it, but no more. “Father? What exactly did this gentleman say to you?”
“Well, I… of course… oh, for crying out loud, he offered me to partner in a business venture, but…”
“But did it have anything to do with his shipping business?” asked Garrett.
“No, actually. Now that I recall, it didn't.”
Garrett looked at Cecil. “Sir, I'm afraid I have to agree with my father. I’ll not marry your daughter under any sort of false pretenses.”
Ammy stiffened at his words but remained silent. If she didn't marry Garrett Vander and soon, what would become of her if Reginald's men showed up? Would they be able to force her to go back with them? Would she have to marry that hideous man to protect her father from jail? What should she do?
Mr. Vander wiped his brow with a napkin. “Are you saying I've misunderstood you, sir?”
“Well it certainly looks that way to me, Horace,” commented Mercy. “You need to slow down and listen when a person tells you this sort of thing.”
Her husband glared at her then gave his attention back to Cecil. “I'll have to think about this, you understand. As will Garrett.”
Garrett looked at Ammy and placed a hand on hers under the table. “I'm sorry about this, Miss Winters, but I agree with my father. You must understand our position.”
“Position?” she said as the warmth of his hand seeped into her own. “I understand that it was a shock finding out you had a mail-order bride. After all, you didn't send for me in the first place. Whatever dealings our parents have is between them. I should think that the business of marriage is left between us.”
“She has a point,” said Mercy.
Betsy entered the dining room. “Would anyone like some pie?”
“Not now, Betsy,” Mr. Vander barked.
Betsy put her hands on her hips. “Well you don't have to get all mad about it, Mr. Vander. Besides, I baked your favorite, but if you don't want any then I’ll just eat mine alone in the kitchen.”
“You'll do no such thing!” he roared. “Bring that pie out here this minute!”
“Mmmhmm,” Betsy said with a knowing smirk. “I thought you’d change your mind.” She turned and went back to the kitchen.
Cecil watched her go and smiled. “That’s some maid you’ve got there.”
“Never mind about our maid!” snapped Mr. Vander. “I want to know what sort of business you've got in mind.”
Ammy pulled her hand out from under Garrett’s. “I'm sorry to interrupt,” she said. “But I have a headache and would like to return to the boarding house.”
“Certainly, my dear,” said Cecil as he pushed his chair away from the table.