by Marie Silk
Serena rolled her eyes and picked up the envelope herself. “If you weren’t so stubborn, you might have been happy to see there is cash in this envelope.”
Phillip didn’t turn around. “What do they want?” he mumbled.
Serena read over the letter. “The money is train fare for you, me, and all the children to visit them in Pittsburgh. Oh I can’t believe it! Mother writes that she wants me and Angelina to move back into their home!”
“What does our father think about all this?” Phillip questioned skeptically.
“Does it matter? I’m being invited back into our family home!” she said, tears forming in her eyes. “We must leave directly after the wedding.”
“ ‘We’? I’m not going back to Pittsburgh with you.”
“I know you’re angry with them for my sake, but clearly they are trying to make things right. Mother writes that she has been plagued with guilt since she heard of Angelina’s kidnapping, and she is sorry she ever forced me to leave the house.”
“She should be sorry,” Phillip responded. “Angelina could very well have died in the hands of those people.”
“Well I am taking Angelina to Pittsburgh with or without you. I’ll explain to Mary tonight.”
“Suit yourself,” Phillip said, then returned to his soup on the stove top.
At Davenport House, Mrs. Spencer arrived to receive training in the duties of housekeeper. Clara met her in the main Hall.
“Thank you for the chance to be housekeeper here, Miss Clara,” Mrs. Spencer said humbly. “I will do my best to live up to the great housekeepers who came before me.”
“I am certain you will do just as well,” Clara said with a smile. “This is Fiona. She will show you the house and everything you need to know. Fiona will be leaving us about the same time I leave for my honeymoon. You will have plenty of time to familiarize yourself with the house and the routine while my husband and I are away.”
“Yes, Madam,” Mrs. Spencer nodded.
“Fiona, please notify me when the man from the telephone company arrives. And be sure to bring me anything that comes in the post immediately,” instructed Clara.
“Yes, Miss Clara,” Fiona responded. She led Mrs. Spencer on a tour through the house and was sure not to mention the subject which seemed to hang over the house like a dark cloud—the fact that Joe Blake had still not returned.
Fiona took Mrs. Spencer down the servants’ stairs to the kitchen. “I will introduce you to our cook and housemaid. Ideally, the house will have two maids at all times, but we only have Jane for now. It means the workload is heavy for Jane and I, especially with the wedding. I imagine that Miss Clara will not want to wait much longer for a second maid once Mr. Blake moves into the house. When you do hire a new maid, she can help in the kitchen as well as with the other rooms.”
“Is the cook making all the food for the wedding?” asked Mrs. Spencer.
“Mrs. Malone is making some of the food, but because we are understaffed, Miss Clara has hired outside catering for the wedding dinner.”
Mrs. Spencer nodded along as she tried to remember the details. Fiona introduced her to the housemaid Jane and Mrs. Malone, the cook. She then took her up the servants’ stairs to the third floor. “This is where the family bedrooms are. Dr. and Mrs. Hamilton live here, although Dr. Hamilton isn’t home much. Ethan and Abigail are here for only a short while. Miss Mary and Abigail are sisters-in-law because Ethan is Miss Mary’s brother. Abigail is also my sister-in-law since her brother is my husband, Sam.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to remember how everyone here is related,” Mrs. Spencer said timidly.
Fiona giggled. “It was very complicated to me at first, but it begins to make sense once you have been here for a while.” Fiona noticed that Mrs. Spencer seemed perplexed. “Do you have a question?”
“I’m just wondering…how did Miss Clara become Mistress of the house? Wasn’t her mother the housekeeper? And shouldn’t Miss Mary have been the heiress after Mr. Davenport passed away?”
Fiona sighed. “Mrs. Spencer, you are asking questions to which even I don’t fully understand the answers. I think it’s probably best to do my work without thinking too hard about it, and leave the rest of it up to the family.”
Mrs. Spencer nodded. “Of course. Then I will do the same.”
“I think you should help Mrs. Malone in the kitchen for today. Goodness knows she needs it since she has already begun on the wedding food. Did you know the rehearsal is tomorrow evening?”
“I do now,” laughed Mrs. Spencer.
Fiona was glad that the new housekeeper was a woman of good nature. She had the sort of pleasing laugh that made anyone in her presence feel at ease. “Yes, it is indeed tomorrow,” Fiona confirmed. “The rehearsal will take place upstairs in the ballroom. Jane and I will spend the rest of today setting it up.” A ringing sound was heard just then.
“Is that the telephone?” asked Mrs. Spencer.
“No, that is the doorbell. I believe it’s the man from the telephone company. Miss Clara asked him to come by to ensure that our telephone is functioning properly. I must go answer the door now and notify Miss Clara of his arrival.”
Mrs. Spencer nodded. “I will return downstairs and help Mrs. Malone with the food.”
Fiona greeted the man at the door and showed him to the library where the telephone was located. Clara was already there waiting for him. “My telephone doesn’t seem to be working properly,” she told him. “I believe that someone has been trying to call me but is unable to ring through.”
“I’m happy to have a look, Ma’am,” the man told her. Just then, the telephone rang loudly and startled them both.
“Hello?” Clara answered it in a fluster.
“Hello Clara, it’s William. Is Mary there?”
Clara slouched in disappointment and held the mouthpiece away so she could talk to Fiona. “It is William calling for Mary.”
Fiona nodded and went upstairs to tell Mary.
“Telephone seems to be working fine, Ma’am. I’ll be leaving now unless you need me for anything else,” the man told her.
“Wait! Is it possible that only some calls are coming through properly, but not others?” she asked.
“It doesn’t work like that, Ma’am. I’m sorry,” he replied.
“Thank you for your time,” she said in defeat. Clara left the library to show him the way out.
Mary found the library empty when she arrived downstairs. She picked up the telephone receiver from the desk. “William? Are you still there?”
“I’m here, Mary,” said William’s voice. “I did as you asked and spoke to the hospitals along the way from here to Harrisburg. None of them have seen Joe.”
Mary sighed in relief. “Well I guess that’s good news in a way…isn’t it?”
“It’s good news that no one has found him hurt, or worse. When was he due back?”
“Three days ago, and still not a word from him,” Mary answered quietly.
“I’m sorry, Mary. You might try the police station next.”
“I’ll do so if he is still not back by tomorrow,” Mary said.
Clara entered the double doors of the library just then. “Are you talking about Joe?” she asked.
“Thank you for calling, William. I must be off now,” Mary told him and hung up the phone. She looked guilty as though she had just been caught. “Yes, we were talking about Joe. I asked William to inquire with the hospitals to see if Joe may have turned up in one.”
Clara put her hand over her heart. “And did he?”
Mary shook her head. “No one has seen him. William suggested we might ask the police next.”
“He’ll be here tomorrow for the rehearsal, Mary,” Clara said loudly, hands on her hips. “He knows how important this day is. Perhaps he tried to call and couldn’t get through because you were on the phone with William.”
“We were only trying to help,” said Mary.
Clara’s voice
cracked emotionally as she spoke. “If you really want to help me, you can pick up Joe’s suit from the tailor’s. They are holding it now but I would rather it be here and ready for him.”
“Of course I will pick up the suit, Clara,” Mary promised. She then left the library for the grand staircase.
Abigail saw Mary in the upstairs hallway before she reached her bedroom. “Mary, I have altered your matron of honor dress. Would you like to try it on now?” she asked.
Mary looked at the clock. “Yes, I have a little time, but then I must leave on an errand for Clara.”
“All right, Mary. I just want to see how this fits you.” They went into the room and Abigail helped Mary into the dress.
“That is much better,” Mary said with relief. “I can’t feel it pressing me at all. Well done, Abigail.”
Abigail smiled. “And how are you feeling? Is your pain any better?”
“I wish I could say yes, but the bruising looks the same as it always has, and the pain is sometimes unbearable. I’m beginning to think I will never feel normal again. I’m considering giving away my old dresses. I don’t suppose I’ll be able to wear them now that my figure has changed.”
“Is that what all these clothes on your bed are for?” Abigail questioned, pointing to the piles of gowns and skirts.
Mary nodded as she hung the matron of honor dress in her wardrobe. “You’re welcome to have a look through the clothes to see if there is anything you like.”
Abigail began to search through the piles. “But Mary, don’t you want to save some of these for when Violet grows up?”
The thought of it made Mary giggle. “It’s hard to imagine my little baby ever being old enough to wear these. Won’t they be terribly out of fashion by then?”
Abigail laughed. “I suppose they could be, but you might save just a few of your favorites for her.”
“Well I did save a special one with Violet in mind,” Mary said, reaching to the very end of her wardrobe. “This is the gown I wore for my debutante. I thought Violet might like to try it on when she is sixteen.” Mary removed the gown from the garment bag and displayed it for Abigail to see.
Abigail’s mouth dropped open and a flood of emotions washed over her. “I don’t believe it!”
Mary looked at the gown and then back at Abigail. “What don’t you believe?”
Abigail stood up from the bed and went to the dress to run her hand along the sleeves. “I don’t know how I never noticed this one in your wardrobe before. I just can’t believe it. I—I made this very gown! Or at least, I helped to make the gown—it was so long ago.”
Mary was astonished. “How is that possible? Are you certain it was this one?”
“Of course I am certain. I would never forget this dress. So you were the young lady who came into the dressmaker shop that day. I was in the back room when your mother brought you in to be measured,” she explained.
Mary groaned at the mention of Mrs. Davenport. “That woman was not my mother. She only pretended to be.”
“Yes, I suppose she did,” Abigail said quietly. “But Mary, can you believe it? You and I were connected back then—and now we are dear friends and even sisters!”
“It seems an impossible coincidence. But it does make my gown all the more special. Now I look forward to telling Violet the story someday.” There was a knock at the door just then. “Come in,” Mary said.
Serena Valenti opened the door and walked into the room. “Good evening, Mary. Violet is asleep now,” she said.
“Thank you, Serena,” Mary told her. “Perhaps she’ll sleep through dinner time and you won’t have to come back tonight.”
“Yes—um—there is something I need to speak with you about,” Serena began hesitantly.
“Oh, I will leave you two so you may talk,” Abigail said, heading for the door.
“It’s alright, Abigail. You can stay for what I have to say. You see, I received an invitation from my parents to return to Pittsburgh. They will allow my daughter and me to live with them.”
“Serena, that’s wonderful,” said Abigail. “I know you’ve missed your mother terribly.”
Serena nodded at Abigail. “I have. To know that I may be part of the family again is my dream come true. The only thing is, I will be in Pittsburgh of course, so I won’t be able to help Mary with the baby anymore. I’m sorry, Mary.”
“I understand,” Mary replied, forcing a smile. “I am happy for you and Angelina.”
“I will stay for Clara’s wedding of course, but I plan to take the train to Pittsburgh the next day. I hope you’ll be able to find someone else to help with Violet.”
“I’ll begin looking right away. Thank you for telling me, Serena,” Mary said.
Serena nodded and said goodnight to the ladies before closing the bedroom door behind her. Mary sat down on the bed. “Oh Abigail, what will I do without her?”
“You must have someone to help you while you heal, Mary. That’s all there is to it. We will find a suitable nanny.”
“The sooner the better,” Mary said as she lay back on the bed.
“Mary, didn’t you say there was an errand you needed to run for Clara?”
Mary sat up again. “That’s right, I nearly forgot. I promised to retrieve Joe’s suit from the tailor.”
“Oh good, Joe has come back,” Abigail breathed in relief. “I confess, I was beginning to get worried!”
“He hasn’t come back yet, Abigail. Clara wants me to get the suit just the same.”
“Oh dear,” she cringed. “Well, thank goodness the gossip column hasn’t caught word about a missing groom. Clara might die if she read about herself in the paper.”
“Well don’t count out the gossip column yet,” Mary said carefully. “There are still three days until the wedding.”
Chapter 4
“Clara!” Mary cried frantically as she rushed to Clara’s side.
It was early in the morning when Mary found Clara lying slumped over the desk in the library. Clara lifted her head and looked drowsily at Mary. “I must have fallen asleep,” she said.
“You frightened me half to death! When Jane said you never retired to your bed last night, and then I found you here…like this…” Mary felt a sinking feeling as she remembered the time she found Mr. Davenport, the father who raised her, slumped over the same desk in the library five years before. Mary shuddered as the memories played out in her mind. She tried to forget them so she could regain her composure. “Did you sleep here all night?” she asked Clara.
Clara sat up straight in the chair. “I suppose I did sleep here all night. I came to the library after dinner so I wouldn’t miss any telephone calls. Joe arrived home to his cottage last night and did not want to wake me. I will go see him now.”
Mary looked at Clara worriedly. “Clara…did you get into the stored wine this morning?” she asked.
Clara laughed but still seemed drowsy. “Oh Mary, I’ve not had any of that since it was outlawed. Why do you ask?”
“You don’t seem like yourself,” Mary answered. “But I am glad that Joe has returned safely. Did you speak to him last night?”
“No,” Clara said with a sigh. “I never saw him.”
“But he telephoned to say he was coming?” Mary prodded.
Clara shook her head. “He didn’t want to wake up everyone in the house with the sound of the telephone.”
Mary continued carefully. “Then how did you know that Joe returned last night?”
“Well of course he returned, Mary. Today is the wedding rehearsal. He wouldn’t leave me to rehearse all alone,” Clara said matter-of-factly.
“Clara dear, I think you must be very tired. Let’s get you to bed.”
“I can’t go to bed now, Mary. There is so much to be done for the wedding. And I want to see Joe, of course.”
“All right. Just please wait for me to get ready and I will visit the cottage with you,” Mary told her. She winced in pain as she helped Clara stand up from t
he chair. “On second thought, perhaps Abigail may accompany you. I think I need to lie down.” Clara nodded and sat back down in the chair.
Mary held her stomach in pain as she went up the grand staircase. Abigail saw her in the hallway. “Mary, are you all right?” she asked.
“No, I’m not all right,” Mary whispered. “I tried to help Clara out of her seat and…I think I hurt myself.”
“Here, lie down in my room,” Abigail said.
“I will be fine, but Clara needs you,” Mary told her. “She is not acting her normal self. I wondered if she found some wine, but she would not admit to it…she wants to see Joe at the cottage and I think someone should go with her.”
“I understand. I will go with her,” Abigail said, gently covering Mary with her soft quilt. “Be sure to stay in bed so you can rest.”
At the stables of Davenport House, Ethan and Sam were releasing the horses into the pasture. “I’ve got to go down to the ranch now and tend to the livestock,” Sam told Ethan.
“Is he still not back yet?” Ethan questioned.
Sam shook his head. “It isn’t right what he’s doing to Miss Clara…making her wait and not telling her where he is. Miss Clara is too nice a lady. If I were her, I’d call off the whole thing.”
Ethan nodded in agreement. “Abigail said she doesn’t think Joe is coming back.”
“Well I hope Miss Clara gives him a piece of her mind if he ever does come back. She deserves better than the likes of him,” Sam said in a huff, then left the stable.
Back at the house, Fiona was showing Mrs. Spencer the plant watering schedule in the conservatory. Through the large glass windows, they could see Clara and Abigail approaching the house from the gardens. Fiona lowered her voice. “Miss Clara went to see if Mr. Joe had returned yet.”
“I see,” Mrs. Spencer said with a nod. They left the conservatory and opened the back door for Clara and Abigail to walk through. Fiona looked at them expectantly but Abigail discreetly shook her head in answer to Fiona’s unspoken question. Clara did not act as though anything were wrong.
