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Hyacinth (Suitors of Seattle)

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by Kirsten Osbourne




  Hyacinth

  Book Six in Suitors of Seattle

  By Kirsten Osbourne

  Copyright 2014 Kirsten Osbourne

  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  As the sixth in a family full of girls, Hyacinth felt she often faded into the woodwork. Of course, she liked living in her own world, where no one really bothered her. She spent her days at the library working on her book, and her evenings hiding in her room. She was determined to be just as good as all her sisters, most of whom she felt overshadowed by.

  Lawrence watched the pretty girl in the library for weeks before he finally approached her, only to learn she was the younger sister of his favorite person in the city. To him, Hyacinth was perfect. Of course, he had no idea how to court a woman. Thankfully, he found a newspaper column that would teach him everything he needed to know. Would she always think he was crazy every Tuesday when he followed its advice, though?

  Chapter One

  When you love a woman, you go out of your way to shower her with attention. You listen to every word she says with intense interest. You no longer care what your friends think in your unending quest to make her feel as if you love her and would be proud to share your life with her. If you don't see her several times per day, she may not get the hint that she is the woman of your dreams and will be showered with affection as your future wife. William Livingston, Advice Column to Lonely Men published in The Seattle Times, December first, 1896.

  Hyacinth wandered into the library where Amaryllis, her third eldest sister, was working and with a wave went to a corner table at the back. She had been quietly working there for months, and no one had asked any questions. She was the quiet one, the odd one, and that suited her just fine. She didn't want any of her nosy sisters to know what she was doing until she was completely finished anyway.

  She'd just turned eighteen, and she was so happy to be free of school she just couldn't even express it. She was taller than her sisters at five feet nine inches, and felt like she was just not part of them, always feeling like she was alone in the world, while she saw the others as a tight-knit group. She had long hair that could only be described as chestnut that she usually wore in a bun to keep it out of her face. Her sisters were all much fairer than she was.

  She nodded at the man at the table next to hers, a tall lanky man, whom she had seen in the library on and off. She knew he'd once been interested in Amaryllis, but now that Amaryllis was happily married with a baby of her own, he'd moved on to simply working in the Seattle library. Just like she had.

  He smiled at her as usual, but this time, instead of ignoring her, he got up and wandered over to where she was sitting, pulling out the chair across from her. "I've seen you here a lot lately. What are you working on?" The look on his face told her that he was genuinely interested in her, and she simply wasn't used to that. Not from a man, or anyone really. Usually people just didn't notice her or what she did.

  Hyacinth pulled her notebook closer to her, not willing to admit to anything before she was finished. He knew her sister. "Just scribbling mostly." Why was he asking? He'd never tried to talk to her before. She was more than a little skeptical of anyone who singled her out for attention.

  He held out his hand to her, and she shook it. "I'm Lawrence Bennett."

  "I know. You used to court my sister, Amaryllis." She looked down at her papers, not certain what else to say to him. He was a handsome man, one she'd had an interest in for years-- not romantically, but she wanted to talk to him about his work.

  "Oh! Which flower are you?" Lawrence grinned as he asked the question, obviously thinking he was being terribly original by making a flower joke. Hyacinth didn't comment on it, though, because she was used to everyone trying to figure out which flower she was. No one ever remembered her.

  Hyacinth looked up at him, wondering if he'd have a real conversation with her, and not just something superficial. "I'm Hyacinth, the sixth flower." She didn't add that she was the most boring flower of the bunch, but that's how she felt. Even her own family dismissed her as boring, none of them really caring to know her better.

  "Amaryllis was the third, right?"

  She could tell he honestly couldn't remember, which pleased her. No man who was as interested in her sister as she'd thought he was could possibly have forgotten that. "She is the third."

  He smiled, leaning back in his chair. "Your family has always fascinated me. What's the order of the names again?"

  Hyacinth sighed. Of course, he was interested in her family and not her. Why would anyone ever be interested in her? "Rose, Lily, Amaryllis, Daisy, Jasmine, Hyacinth, Violet, and Iris."

  "Wow. I forget there are so many of you. All right, I know Amaryllis married Alex, but what about Daisy and Jasmine? Are they around? Happily married and all that?" He seemed genuinely interested, so she answered him.

  She couldn't help but wonder if he was researching them for a book. Every person she met became part of some story she made up. She had so many stories she'd written over the years, mostly short stories, and she so badly wanted to get them published. Maybe if she answered his questions, he would answer hers. "Daisy became a mail order bride and moved to Montana. She is married to Eli, and they have a daughter, Dinah. She's expecting again." She waited for him to say something about how her family was trying to populate the world on its own like she usually heard, but it didn't come.

  Lawrence nodded. "Very nice. I'm sure your mother is very happy with all the grandchildren. What about Jasmine? Was she the crazy one? The one Amaryllis always called a demented nincompoop?"

  Hyacinth grinned despite herself. "Yes, that's Jasmine. She went to help Daisy when she was pregnant with Dinah, and she met a man at church there. She married him and stayed in Montana. He had twin sons from a previous marriage. So now two of the flowers are in Montana, but the other six are still here in Seattle." She missed her sisters, but really? She was glad there were fewer "flowers" walking around. It made it easier for people to remember her name and which one she was.

  "And what about Hyacinth? Are you getting married soon?" He seemed to be nervous even asking her that, which surprised her. Why would he care what she was doing? He seemed like a strange man to her.

  "I hadn't really thought about it. I'm absorbed in my scribbling." She closed her notebook when she saw him looking at it. She wasn't ready for anyone to see it and especially not a published author. A real writer would have only negative things to say about her work, she was certain. Of course, she'd never sent it to anyone to look at, but she just knew it couldn't be worth much.

  "What are you scribbling about?" Lawrence was growing more and more intrigued by the moment. She was hiding something, and he needed to know what it was.

  Hyacinth looked down. She didn't want to tell him, but she knew he couldn't help her if she didn't. Besides, he'd once been an unpublished writer, writing his first book, right? "It's a book I'm writing. A love story." She blushed as she added the last part. She'd never been in love. Was she even capable of writing a love story? She certainly hoped so.

  Lawrence grinned at her. "Really? A book? And a love story? I want to read it." He reached for her notebook, but she plucked it off the table and clutched it to her chest. "Please?" He knew that most writers put a great deal of themselves into their
work, especially their first book, and he wanted to get to know her better.

  Hyacinth shook her head. "Not before it's finished. It's my first novel. I have a lot of short stories, but this one is too important to me." She shrugged. "Maybe someday I could let someone see it." Like when she was ready to talk about publication. Then she'd have to let someone see it, wouldn't she? How could she ask him about publication?

  "Why don't I take you to the restaurant for dinner tonight, and we can talk about our writing?"

  There was only one real restaurant in town as well as a small diner. She'd been to the diner several times, but hadn't often gone to the restaurant. Their family had a cook, so they didn't eat out as a family much.

  She looked at him with surprise. "You wouldn't mind talking to me about it?" She hadn't even had to ask, which was wonderful. Would he explain what she needed to know to her?

  "Not at all. I would love to. I don't know any other writers here in Seattle, and it would be nice to have a chance to talk shop for a bit." He smiled. "Besides, who doesn't want to take a pretty lady to dinner?"

  She blushed at the compliment. Had anyone other than her family ever called her pretty before? She had always thought of her looks as boring, like her personality. She didn't live; she wrote about living. "I...well, sure. I'd like that." She knew she wasn't speaking well and must be coming across as an imbecile.

  He smiled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "I'll come by your house and pick you up around six? Would that work? And maybe we can go for a drive after." There wasn't a lot to do in Seattle at night if you weren't willing to go to the saloons. There were plays from time to time, but there weren't any in town currently, and she had never been to one.

  Hyacinth looked at him for a moment before nodding. "I thought you traveled around all the time. What are you doing back in Seattle?" Would he just be a temporary friend? Or was he back for good? She'd seen him a lot lately.

  Lawrence shrugged. "I got tired of not having a home base. My relationship with the local Indian tribe has made it to where this is a good place for me to research, so I bought a house here a couple of months ago. It's a perfect location for me to settle down." His friendship with the librarian in town had been a big draw as well. He liked the idea of having someone close who could help him with his research.

  "That makes sense." She wanted to say more, but she was afraid if she did, he would rescind his offer of dinner, so instead, she stood, still clutching her notebook to her chest. "I'll see you this evening, then."

  Lawrence watched her leave before going to the front desk of the library. He spotted Amaryllis sitting there, eating her lunch and reading a book. She took a big bite out of an apple, and he cleared his throat so she would notice he was there. "Oh, Lawrence! Hi! What can I help you with today?" They'd stayed friends even after her marriage, much to her husband's annoyance.

  "I was wondering about your sister, Hyacinth." He saw no reason not to get straight to the point. There was no need for him to stand around and pretend to need something else first.

  "Oh, you were?" Amaryllis looked over her shoulder, where her sister had just left. "What do you want to know?" Her brows knit in surprise. Hyacinth, in her eyes, needed to be protected more than the others due to her seeming confusion and withdrawal from the world around her.

  He shrugged. "What can you tell me? Let's start with her age. I want to make sure I didn't just ask a sixteen-year-old girl to have dinner with me." He certainly hoped she was old enough to have dinner with, and he held his breath as he waited for Amaryllis's response.

  Amaryllis looked at him with wide eyes. "You and Hy are having dinner? Really?"

  He nodded. "Why is that so hard to believe? She's a pretty girl, and we seem to have a lot in common." Did Hyacinth's sisters underestimate her? He hoped not, because she seemed to be a special woman to him. He could tell she was a hard worker simply by observing her for so long.

  Amaryllis gave him a surprised look. "I guess you do." She shrugged. "She just turned eighteen a few weeks ago. She umm...she finished school in May, and she spends a lot of time here, doing God knows what, and she volunteers at the battered women's shelter that Alex's parents run." She raised her hands palm up. "That's honestly all I know about her. She's really dreamy and quiet, but she's not shy like Daisy. She's just very private." She shrugged. "She's a mystery to all of us. If you figure something more out, feel free to let me know!"

  Lawrence smiled. The things that mystified Hyacinth's sister about her, he understood. She must not mention her writing to anyone, or Amaryllis would know why she was the way she was. "That's mainly what I needed to know. Thank you, Amaryllis." He walked back to his table where he'd been working and sat down. Hyacinth Sullivan. Who'd have ever thought he'd be interested in one of Amaryllis's little sisters?

  *****

  Hyacinth was waiting in the parlor for Lawrence when he arrived. Her mother had expressed concern that he was old enough to have courted Amaryllis, but she took one look at her daughter's pleading eyes and relented. She knew that Hyacinth didn't go out and see people often, because she was always so busy doing whatever it was that she did in the library all day and while she was hiding in her room.

  Hyacinth was surprised at how nervous she was. There were so many things she wanted to ask Lawrence during dinner, she'd even made herself a short list of them. Would he answer them all? Or was he one of those men who refused to talk about a woman's work, feeling his was more important? She didn't know, but she guessed she'd find out soon.

  Just as the clock struck six, she heard a knock at the door. Iris flew through the house to answer it, grinning at Hyacinth over her shoulder as she did. Iris, the youngest of the eight was fifteen, and she wasn't nearly as mischievous as Jasmine had been. She did have her moments, though, and hopefully she wouldn't say anything embarrassing that would make Lawrence think that she thought he was trying to be her beau.

  Hyacinth stood up, her hair atop her head as a proper lady's should be. Truly she would prefer to run around in the split skirt she had, but her mother would be scandalized. It wouldn't do to scandalize her mother, not until she was married and on her own anyway. She walked to the door, grabbing the big shoulder bag that she wore over her shoulder all the time with her notebook inside it. She couldn't leave it at home for fear one of her sisters would look through her things. Even without Jasmine there, it just wasn't private enough at home to suit her peace of mind.

  Lawrence was wearing his usual brown vested suit that she had seen him wear many times to the library. She found herself wondering if he had purchased many of the same suit, but she didn't ask. She wasn't certain she wanted to know, honestly. He never smelled foul, so she assumed he had several. She took her coat from the hook by the door, and he took it from her to help her into it. She almost protested that she'd been able to put on her own coat for years, but she realized he was trying to be gentlemanly by helping her with it.

  He offered her his arm as they left the house, her mother calling after them, "Have her home early, please!"

  Lawrence gave a quick nod. "I'll be certain to do that, Mrs. Sullivan." He smiled at the older woman. "Would ten be an acceptable hour?"

  At Mary's nod, he closed the door, turning back to smile at Hyacinth.

  As soon as they were away from the house, she said, "You don't have to help me with my coat, you know. I know we're just having dinner to talk about writing." She'd rather they stayed totally honest with the reason they were together, and he didn't even try to pretend they were a couple or that he was interested in her as a potential bride.

  Lawrence gave her a look of surprise. He'd been certain she'd see through his ruse when he asked her out to talk about writing. Every other woman he'd known, which honestly hadn't been many, would have told him to just be honest about what he wanted. "I like helping you."

  Hyacinth gave him an odd look as he helped her up into the small two seated buggy. He took the reins in his hands and started the buggy down the street.
"Did your mother mind you coming out with me?"

  Hyacinth shook her head. "No, I don't think so. She's a little concerned about our age difference, but that's all." She shrugged, dismissing her mother's concerns. Mary tended to worry over every little thing, and her daughters had learned to ignore it.

  "How old does she think I am?" he asked, surprised.

  "Well, she knows that you courted Amaryllis for a bit." Hyacinth looked down at the bag on her lap that contained her notebook.

  "I wouldn't call what Amaryllis and I did courting. We were more...friends than anything else. I'm only twenty-seven."

  Hyacinth smiled. "She won't keep us from being friends, then. I'm certain Mother thinks you're interested in me, and I didn't explain about our mutual interest in writing. I hope you don't mind."

  He shook his head. "Of course, I don't mind. I like knowing there are some things that you confide in me." He grinned over at her in the darkness. It was December, and it got dark earlier than usual. He was thankful the street lights had been lit.

  She looked down at her hands, blushing slightly. She hadn't thought of what she'd told him that day as confiding in him, but she guessed it was. There was no one else who knew who she was a writer. "Sometimes I think I need to tell someone or I'll burst." She took a deep breath. "I'm mostly done with my novel, but I'm really not certain what I should do with it once it's finished. I mean, I could always just let it rot away in my dresser drawer, but I don't think that's what I want. I'm not looking for fame or fortune, but I think my story's good and someone somewhere might want to read it." She hoped he didn't think she was bragging by saying she thought it was good.

  "I'm sure it's wonderful. May I read a bit of it so I can talk to my publisher about it?"

  She shook her head adamantly. "No, I just need your help with the process. Do I just contact a publisher directly? Or how do I do it?"

 

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