It seemed impossible to meet a woman he could trust, but if he ever married, it would have to be to a woman who loved him for more than his family’s money. A woman who knew how to harbor his secrets…and he would harbor hers.
* * * * *
Elena rocked back on one of the veranda chairs as the breeze rustled the curtains around the open windows and settled over the blanket she’d tucked over her walking dress. Her parents had retired a good half hour ago, and when they did, everything within her wanted to flee the house. She couldn’t go though, not quite yet. Her mother always came down the steps to check on her one last time.
The tiny crescent of a moon crept over the dark horizon, and the waves below glistened like icy cakes of snow. Shoots of light sprayed across the night, and the beauty of it all reminded her of the powerful scene in the Scriptures where darkness collided with light for the very first time.
The breeze chilled her face when she closed her eyes, the light blazing across her mind as she imagined it had so long ago.
She’d memorized the poignant words in Genesis years ago, about the void God created—a void called earth—and the darkness that rested on the face of the deep. And then, like the soft breeze that rustled the curtains, the Spirit of God moved across the water, and with a thundering voice that commanded the universe to obey, He said, “Let there be light.”
After the light flooded out of the darkness, God said it was good.
Goose bumps bubbled on her arms and she rubbed them. What would it have been like to be trapped in that murky blackness and then to feel the rustle of God’s Spirit as He moved across the waters, to hear the roar of God’s voice when He commanded there to be light?
Perhaps that first spark of light flickered on one of God’s fingers like the tip of a match and then, in a blaze of His glory, swallowed up the darkness. In that moment, when darkness was confined, light ruled the earth.
Footsteps interrupted her thoughts, and she held her breath. Perhaps if she kept very still, the darkness would hide her tonight.
She could feel her mother’s presence behind her, but she didn’t turn.
“It’s getting late, Elena.”
“I know, Mama.” She opened her eyes. “I just wanted to watch the stars a bit longer.”
Her mother stepped beside her. “Mrs. Frederick said that Mr. Darrington might arrive tomorrow.”
Elena sighed. “I thought he wasn’t coming.”
“She said he wanted to meet Gracie.” Mama smiled. “But that’s only because he hasn’t met you.”
Elena tucked her feet under her skirts. “I’m fairly certain that this Mr. Darrington won’t care if I watch the stars.”
Mama tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair. “He might not care about the stars, but he will notice the dark circles under your eyes if you don’t get some sleep.”
She could lie and say she wasn’t the least bit tired, but that wasn’t true. The day had exhausted her. “Mr. Darrington is not going to be interested in me.”
Her mother crossed her arms. “Now why would you say a silly thing like that?”
“Because he’ll want to marry for connections as well as for money.”
Mama huffed. “He has plenty of money.”
“I’m only trying to say—”
“Your father is still quite connected,” Mama interrupted. “And he’ll recover the factory—and his other investments—in the fall.”
The confidence in her voice faltered. They both knew their family connections were dwindling as fast as their investments and bank account. The railroad her father invested in had gone bankrupt, his real estate holdings were practically worthless at the moment, and the factory to make farming equipment that had been his—as well as his father’s—livelihood for almost fifty years had shut its doors.
Elena tried a different tactic. “I’m sure Gracie Frederick isn’t the only one with her sights set on Mr. Darrington.”
Mama sat down on the rocker next to her. “You’re just as pretty as the lot of them, Elena, and smarter too. If you’d try a little, you can get his attention.”
Elena knew she wasn’t as pretty as most of the girls on the island, at least not in a pampered way, but even if she could capture Mr. Darrington’s attention, she didn’t want to compete with the other girls. Nor did she want this Mr. Darrington or any other man looking to acquire her like an investment or merchandise. She just wanted to be left alone.
Mama stretched out her hand, waving her back into the house. “Come.”
Elena draped the blanket over her shoulders and followed her mother to the stairs. The wide staircase led them up to a balcony with tall bookshelves and overstuffed chairs. Down the narrow hallway, her room was across from her mother’s room, and her mother kissed her cheek before she opened Elena’s door.
“You need to rest.”
“Yes, Mama.” Elena slid inside and shut the door. And waited. Her mother should go to sleep now that Elena was safely tucked away in her room.
She turned on the gaslight. A poster bed stood against the wall to her right with a giant blue-and-white canopy draped over the sides. A bay window looked over the dark gardens and the lake beyond, and along the window ledge were glass bowls filled with seashells and shiny rocks. On the wall to her left, blue-and-white curtains matched the pattern on her couch. Paneled walls behind the couch and dressing table were decorated with colorful watercolors of island scenes, sketches of her family, and pithy needlepoint sayings like Lewis Carroll’s famous quote, “If you don’t know where you are going, any road will get you there.”
Her nightdress was draped over the coverlet on her bed, but instead of changing into it, Elena felt under her pillows and pulled out the calico work dress that Jillian had discarded three years ago. She threw her blanket over a chair, exchanged her walking dress for the baggy one, and braided her long hair. She left her cotton stockings on her legs and her corset in her armoire.
Lifting a stack of pillows from the davenport, Elena stuffed them under the sheets of her bed. If her mother came to check on her again, she wouldn’t dare wake her from her beauty sleep.
She reached for her riding jacket and began tiptoeing toward the doorway, but before she touched the knob, someone knocked on the other side. When the door began to open, she dove back toward her bed, balling her nightdress in her arm. Pillows scattered across the Persian rug as she threw the coverlet over her work dress.
Mama stepped into the room, a candle in her hand. She eyed the pillows at her feet. “I thought I heard something.”
Elena yanked the cover over her chest, hiding the old dress underneath. “I was rearranging a few things.”
“Now you’re going to sleep, aren’t you?”
Elena fidgeted with a string on the coverlet. “Yes, Mama.”
Her mother hesitated. “I’ll have Jillian make you some chamomile.”
“It’s not necessary.”
Mama stepped back and rang a bell.
It would take a good twenty minutes to heat the water and steep the leaves.
Elena’s gaze wandered wistfully to the window and the moonlight outside. There would be no escaping Castle Pines, at least not tonight.
Chapter Four
“Did you hear about Hilga Brunet?”
Mrs. Grunier leaned toward the four other women gathered at the table, and three of them huddled close to her as if they couldn’t trust the columns on the Gruniers’ wide portico with their gossip. Elena leaned back in the wicker chair, pretending she didn’t care to hear about Hilga, but in reality, she wanted to find out what had happened to one of the few young women who’d befriended her on Mackinac last year.
Trudy Grunier, Mrs. Grunier’s seventeen-year-old daughter, spoke first, just loud enough for Elena to hear. “They already know, Mother.”
Mrs. Frederick’s commanding voice dipped to a whisper, like she hadn’t heard Trudy. “What happened?”
Mrs. Grunier took a sip of her English tea, seeming to relish
the moment. “After Hilga was caught last summer—”
Mama’s hand flew to her bodice. “I’d almost forgotten.”
Elena straightened her skirts on the wicker chair, resisting the urge to correct her mother. None of them had forgotten what happened to Hilga Brunet last year.
Mrs. Grunier’s voice dropped even lower. “I heard she had her confinement in Indianapolis.”
“Dear me,” Mama exclaimed, her fingers at her throat. “I hope she is all right.”
Mrs. Grunier took another sip of tea. “She returned to her parents’ home in Cleveland this spring.”
The words settled over the four ladies. No one dared to ask about the baby or its father.
Hilga had been one of the most beautiful debutantes on Mackinac. On a tour around the island last summer, she had met a dashing soldier named Santino. On the night she snuck away to meet him, several young vacationers were building a bonfire on the beach. They discovered Hilga and her lover together, and the news of Hilga’s indiscretion whipped through the top echelons of society like a tornado. It yanked the roof off the Brunet family’s reputation and destroyed their good name.
Elena eyed her mother as the women continued whispering as if that would keep the secret locked away. Mama pretended to be horrified for poor Hilga and her family, but Elena was very aware of what she thought, both then and now. She wasn’t particularly concerned for Hilga’s well-being—only that there was one less debutante to compete for the more distinguished island men.
“Will Hilga be returning to Mackinac this summer?” Elena asked.
“Most certainly not.” Mrs. Grunier looked at Trudy as if her daughter might be tarnished by someone like Hilga vacationing on the island. “I heard they would be summering in Saugatuck.”
“Dear me,” Mama repeated, apparently afraid for the young people in Saugatuck.
“Did you hear that they are closing Fort Mackinac?” Mrs. Frederick asked.
Mrs. Grunier nodded. “My husband told me a few weeks ago.”
Elena watched Mama’s smile dim.
“Having those soldiers leave—” Mrs. Grunier glanced at Trudy again. “It will help to keep our daughters safe.”
“I thought the fort was built to keep us safe,” Elena ventured.
Mama hushed her with a glance.
Elena reached for a flower-shaped cookie decorated with pink-and-yellow flourishes. She knew she wasn’t supposed to contradict the ladies during these luncheons, but sometimes she couldn’t help herself. Trudy nibbled a cookie next to her, and Elena wondered if she was bored as well. There was so much on the island to see, and yet here they sat at a tea party instead, talking about the mistakes of everyone else like they were above any sort of indiscretion.
“Why are they closing down the fort?” Mama asked. Apparently her curiosity for information overcame her embarrassment regarding her lack of knowledge.
“We haven’t needed the fort since that war with the British, back in 18-something,” Mrs. Frederick replied.
“Eighteen twelve,” Elena murmured.
“If they close the fort, then all the soldiers will leave,” her mother replied.
“Not if, Deborah,” Mrs. Frederick said, “when. All the soldiers should be gone by summer’s end, maybe even before.”
Mama’s hand went to her chest again. “Oh dear.”
There were never enough men for all the unmarried women who swarmed the island each summer. The unmarried officers and seventy or so enlisted men offered a distraction for the women who weren’t courting a bachelor from Chicago or Detroit. The officers were invited to the dinner parties and dances. The enlisted men secretly entertained young women like Hilga in other places around the island.
Even as Mama reached for her teacup again, Elena watched her lips move quietly. Heat climbed up Elena’s cheeks at the thought of what her mother was doing. Counting, without a doubt, the number of bachelors vacationing on the island this summer.
“Where is Gracie this afternoon?” Mrs. Grunier inquired of the woman next to her.
“She’s resting,” Mrs. Frederick replied, dabbing her thick lips with a cloth napkin. “We’re expecting company tonight.”
“Oh—” Elena watched her mother take a controlled sip of her tea before she spoke again. “What sort of company?”
“Mr. Darrington and his sister are dining with us.”
Mama lowered her teacup. “I didn’t realize he had arrived yet.”
Mrs. Frederick nodded. “He is supposed to be on his way today.”
Mrs. Grunier leaned toward the table again. “I thought Mr. Darrington might not be coming after all.”
“Oh, he’s definitely coming.”
Elena groaned inwardly. She’d been hoping he would change his mind.
Trudy scooted closer to the table. “What type of work does this Mr. Darrington do?”
“He works for his father’s investment firm,” Mrs. Frederick replied with much authority. “He’s a financier…and an inventor.”
“I heard he invented a book of paper matches,” Mrs. Grunier said.
“How fascinating,” Mama replied. Elena closed her eyes so they wouldn’t roll at her mother’s sudden interest in matches.
Mrs. Frederick’s pinky finger dangled in the air as she lifted her cup in a salute of sorts. “I hear he is a very fascinating man.”
“He certainly is an elusive one,” Mrs. Grunier replied. “My cousin has invited him to their home in Detroit on three separate occasions to meet her daughter. Each time, he declined due to his business affairs.”
Mrs. Frederick’s eyes sparkled. “I will tell you all about him.”
“I do hope you intend to share the man’s company, Elizabeth.” Mrs. Grunier sipped her tea. “There are plenty of young people on the island who would benefit from getting to know an innovator like him.”
Elena fidgeted in her chair as she fought a yawn. This kind of endless discourse exhilarated her mother, but it exhausted her. And it had only just begun. They would sit on this portico, shaded from the sun, siphoning every morsel of news from their acquaintances, and then they would move on to the next tea party or luncheon tomorrow to spread it.
Thankfully, no one had mentioned her incident on the pier yesterday. Perhaps none of the summer residents had seen the fall.
Several houses down from the Gruniers’ house sat Castle Pines. Behind their house, at the top of the hill, grew a huge hydrangea bush. If Claude had kept his word, a bicycle awaited her behind it. Tonight she wouldn’t let anyone stop her from leaving the house.
“There is no reason for me to entertain Mr. Darrington and his sister exclusively,” Mrs. Frederick replied. “I’m just accommodating his request to meet Gracie.”
Mrs. Grunier folded her hands. “Surely he will come to the dance on Thursday night.”
“I’m certain he will,” Mrs. Frederick said. Even though she didn’t say it, Elena knew she was hoping that he would attend with Gracie on his arm.
* * * * *
The moment the Bissette family sat down at the dinner table, Mama exclaimed, “Why didn’t you tell me they were closing down the fort?”
Papa picked up his fork. “I hope you had a pleasant day as well, Deborah.”
Elena toyed with the goblet of mixed fruit before her. Mama prided herself on knowing everything that happened on the island along with every notable fact about the wealthy people who visited it. Papa prided himself on withholding the juicier tidbits from her.
Papa took a bite of fruit. “I didn’t think you wanted to know about the island riffraff.”
Mama made an unladylike sound in response, and Elena glanced toward the kitchen door. Claude was waiting for them to finish the course so he could serve whatever Nell made next. He was doing a good job of at least pretending to ignore the conversation. They all had to be actors in some way, Elena supposed, no matter which rung they’d secured on society’s ladder.
“It’s your responsibility to keep me apprised of the n
ews on the island.” She glanced over at Elena. “We don’t want to be made out as fools.”
A cough escaped Papa’s lips. He held his napkin over his mouth and pounded on his chest.
“Stop grinning,” her mother demanded. Elena swallowed her smile, but she was still smiling on the inside.
“Even Martha Grunier knew about the fort’s closing.”
When he stopped coughing, Papa took a sip of wine. “The Gruniers have been here for a good week now. She should know about the fort.”
Mama lowered her voice. “You both may think me a fool, but I am the only one in this family who is trying to secure our future. In order to do that, I need to know what is happening on the island.”
“But you do know what is happening,” he replied.
She pointed at Elena’s goblet. “Eat your fruit, dear.”
Elena picked up the chilled fork and pushed the sugary peach slice around before she pierced it, but she didn’t take a bite.
“Did the Darrington family arrive yet?” Mama asked.
He took another sip. “I believe so.”
“And Mr. Darrington?”
Papa’s eyes twinkled. “I saw him arrive at the Grand this morning.”
Elena squirmed in her chair. She’d been hoping the man would still change his mind and stay in Detroit for the summer.
Mama’s fork clanged on her goblet. “You need to tell us these things, Arthur.”
“I believe I just told you.”
“But if I hadn’t asked—” She sighed. “You wouldn’t have mentioned it.”
He ate another piece of fruit.
Mama’s gaze was still upon him, as if she was trying to untangle something he had said. “Why were you at the Grand?”
“I had a lunch meeting with Oliver Randolph.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Oliver already burned the bridge between you and him.”
“Bridges can be mended.”
Love Finds You in Mackinac Island, Michigan Page 4
