The Brickmaker's Bride

by Judith Miller

  Instead of calling off the courtship, her mother had whisked away Laura’s protests with a comment that love is sometimes slow to bloom. While she understood her mother’s reasoning for the match, Laura would rather remain a spinster than marry a man she didn’t love. Yet, for longer than she could remember, her mother had expressed regret that Laura had been without siblings to share her early years. As the years passed, her mother had made it clear that before she died, she intended to make certain Laura had a husband. And since her father’s death, her mother’s determination had increased tenfold.

  Laura extended her hand toward Ewan. “Wait. I can explain if you’ll give me a moment.”

  “You owe me no explanation. We’re here to conduct business during the daytime, and Winston is here to be your escort and entertain you in the evenings. It’s all very clear.” He motioned toward the baggage being unloaded down the platform. “I’ll go and make arrangements to have the baggage delivered to the hotel. No need for you and your mother to wait on me. I can come to the hotel once I’ve finished.” He glanced across the depot. “I believe your mother said she wanted to rest as soon as we arrived.”

  Laura didn’t want to leave him, but from the set of his jaw, she knew he would insist. He didn’t want to hear her explanations, and he didn’t want to ride to the hotel with them. He wanted to be alone and ruminate upon what he’d been told. It was clear he thought she’d deceived him. But if he wouldn’t give her an opportunity to explain, how would he learn the truth?

  She stared after him as he strode away. How she wished she’d told him before they’d departed. This journey could prove to be a disaster.

  Chapter 9

  Shortly after Laura and her mother departed the station, Ewan ascertained the hotel was only a half mile away. After arranging for delivery of the baggage, he set out on foot, stopping for his evening meal at a small restaurant along the way. A chance meeting with Laura and her mother in the hotel dining room was the last thing he wanted right now.

  He couldn’t deny the feelings of betrayal that had engulfed him when he’d learned Winston would be arriving in Wheeling. When Laura had arranged the trip to Wheeling, he’d assumed he would act as her escort. She’d never actually said as much. Then again, she’d never said he wouldn’t. Why had she been so secretive? Was she one of those girls who enjoyed toying with men? He’d seen his share of those lasses in Ireland. One day they’d make you think you were the only man alive, and the next you’d see them on the arm of another lad. And he’d obviously read far too much into those invitations.

  He’d wanted to believe that Laura might have an interest in him that went beyond helping to get the brickyard established, but her kindness had been nothing more than a bit of blarney. It was merely her attempt at making an immigrant believe he could be equal to someone like her father or Winston Hawkins. What a fool he’d been to think that someone as beautiful and refined as Laura Woodfield would ever cast a look in his direction.

  He went to bed and reminded himself that the only females he should think about were his three sisters still living in Ireland. He must remember that he was responsible for them. Laura Woodfield had no need of a poor Scots-Irishman. She needed a gentleman of wealth and position. She needed Winston Hawkins.

  The following morning, Ewan entered the dining room and requested a table by the window—a table with only two chairs. The waiter hadn’t yet served him his coffee when Mrs. Woodfield tapped him on the shoulder with a delicate lace fan. “What are you doing sitting over here by yourself? Didn’t you see us seated across the room?” She didn’t wait for an answer, but immediately flagged the waiter. “I left word with the maître d’ to seat Mr. McKay at our table.” She glanced toward the pedestal at the dining room entrance and frowned.

  “He wasn’t there when I arrived, and I asked this waiter to seat me. ’Twas not the fault of the waiter, Mrs. Woodfield. If you’re wanting to place blame, it belongs to me, not this poor fellow.” The waiter scrambled behind them, fear shining in his eyes. No doubt the poor man worried he’d be without a job by day’s end. Ewan glanced over his shoulder. “You need not worry. We’ll be giving nothing but praise to anyone who asks about your service.” The waiter held Mrs. Woodfield’s chair for her. “Isn’t that right, Mrs. Woodfield?” Ewan scrutinized the woman’s face for some sign of agreement.

  She offered a barely distinguishable smile. “Yes, of course. This isn’t a matter of concern. You’ve been most helpful.”

  Though the waiter’s spine remained as straight as a broomstick, his jaw relaxed a modicum. “Thank you, madam.” He gave a slight bow and glanced at Ewan. “And my thanks to you, as well, sir.”

  “No need for thanks,” Ewan said, giving the waiter a friendly pat on the shoulder. The man hurried away from their table, most likely feeling quite pleased that his tables were in another section. After nodding to Laura, Ewan took a seat between the two ladies.

  Mrs. Woodfield draped a linen napkin across her lap and leaned toward Ewan. “It is not proper etiquette to be overly friendly with the hotel staff. Touching them in any manner isn’t acceptable.” Ewan picked up the cut-glass pitcher and poured water into his goblet. When he attempted to add water to Mrs. Woodfield’s glass, she quickly covered it with her hand. “You do not pour your own water, either. That is why they have waiters, Mr. McKay.”

  Ewan nodded toward the waiter. “If he’s busy helping people at another table and I’m thirsty, why should I wait for him to pour the water? That makes no sense.”

  Mrs. Woodfield looked at Laura. Obviously she hoped her daughter would be able to explain. “Mother is trying to help you understand proper rules of etiquette so that you won’t be embarrassed in the future. Many of the rules may seem foolish, but you’ll soon grow accustomed to them.” Attired in a lovely dress that accentuated her dark brown curls, she appeared to fit perfectly in these lavish surroundings, while he felt as uncomfortable as a fish on dry ground.

  “Here you are! I’m glad for the opportunity to see you before you depart for your meetings this morning.” Winston appeared at Laura’s side with a smile as wide as the front door. He gave Ewan a faint nod and turned the remaining empty chair toward Laura.

  Water goblet and silverware in hand, their waiter appeared out of nowhere and hurried to Winston’s side. “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t realize another guest would be joining this group.” He poured some water into Winston’s glass. “Coffee?”

  “I’ve already had my breakfast.” Winston dismissed the waiter with a flick of his wrist.

  After a slight nod, the waiter backed away from the table and returned to his position behind one of the nearby pillars, a spot where he could inconspicuously observe his assigned tables. With his back to Ewan, Winston continued to engage the ladies in conversation, inquiring about the suitability of their accommodations and assuring them he would do anything necessary to ensure their comfort. If it had been Winston’s intent to shut him out of their small circle, he’d succeeded. Ewan felt as invisible as the restaurant staff. When the waiter arrived with their breakfast, Winston stood and offered Laura and her mother effusive good-byes. The nod Winston directed at Ewan was so swift and negligible that he had no time to return the gesture. The message was clear: Winston wasn’t happy to have another man present. The one commonality he and Ewan shared—beyond their interest in Laura, of course.

  “May I offer thanks for our meal?” Ewan asked, looking toward Mrs. Woodfield for approval.

  “Of course.” She’d hesitated as if somewhat surprised by his request.

  Uncertain if he’d overstepped propriety, he kept the prayer short. Perhaps giving thanks for one’s food in a fancy dining room wasn’t acceptable. When they were alone later, he would ask Laura if the practice was frowned upon. There seemed to be endless rules among these wealthy, fancy folks. He’d soon need a notebook to write them all down, so he could review them each time he came to Wheeling or Pittsburgh.

  As their meetings progressed throughout
the day, Ewan faced the fact that securing contracts wasn’t going to prove as simple as he’d thought. Having Mrs. Woodfield and Laura along had gotten his foot in the door, but securing a deal fell upon his unseasoned shoulders. His meeting at a building site in Fairmont didn’t compare to these conferences in wood-paneled offices with oversized mahogany desks and cigar-smoking men in expensive suits who immediately sniffed out Ewan’s inexperience. Granted, he knew more about bricks than any of these businessmen, but his experience in Ireland had been supervising the brickmaking process, not negotiating contracts.

  Spotting Winston waiting at the front door of the hotel when they returned only served to dishearten him further. No doubt Winston would take pleasure in hearing that Ewan had met with little success.

  Winston looked to be in a good mood. “I hope your day was as successful as my own.” He offered Laura his arm, but it was Mrs. Woodfield who sidestepped and grasped hold. He looked surprised, but he quickly recovered and patted Mrs. Woodfield’s hand before turning toward Ewan. “Any luck with your meetings?”

  “Nothing definite. The men appeared interested, but they’re not willing to move forward until they have an opportunity to examine the product.”

  “I don’t know why you don’t just tell them a brick is a brick. We all know that one brick is about the same as any other. My guess is you lack the ability to convince them. They’re accustomed to dealing with men who know how to drive a hard bargain, and it appears you waved a white flag.” He shook his head. “Hard to gain respect after you’ve done that.”

  “I will have you know that a brick is not a brick, Winston, and Ewan did not wave a white flag.” Laura’s eyes flashed with anger. “Do you also believe that all shoes are alike?”

  “There’s nothing similar about shoes and bricks, Laura.” There was a hint of disdain in Winston’s voice.

  Laura stopped short. “There is a similarity between shoes and bricks. A good shoe depends upon how the leather is tanned and on the talent of the cobbler. A good brick depends upon the quality of the clay and the talent of the brickmaker. If a brick isn’t dried long enough before entering the kiln or if the burner doesn’t know how to maintain a proper fire, the brick may look good on the outside, but crack under pressure.” She tipped her head to one side and lifted an eyebrow. “I believe politicians sometimes crack under pressure, as well. Don’t you agree?”

  “I don’t think there’s time for a discussion regarding bricks or politicians right now. I’m eager to go upstairs and rest for a while before attending tonight’s festivities.” Mrs. Woodfield gestured to her daughter. “Judging from your peevish remarks to Winston, I think a bit of rest would serve you well, too, Laura.”

  “I don’t think my remarks were peevish, Mother. I thought Winston’s assessment completely inaccurate, and I merely set forth my position. I’m sure he’s accustomed to being challenged. After all, he’s required to debate his cases in the courtroom.”

  “True, but you’re not his adversary, Laura.” Her mother arched her brows at Laura as their waiter scurried to help with her chair.

  As they prepared to depart the dining room, Ewan leaned close to Laura so the others wouldn’t hear. “Thank you for defending me, but I’m sure your mother is correct. Your remarks appear to have troubled him.”

  Laura’s shoulders lifted and dropped in a slight shrug. “Making Winston happy isn’t why I’ve come here. I don’t ever want my father’s brickyard to fail.”

  Ewan remained beside her as they ascended the hotel stairs. “But it isn’t your father’s brickyard any longer.”

  “Perhaps not, but if it doesn’t succeed, I will feel as though I have failed him. He would want you to experience great success, and so do I.”

  “Did I hear you wish me success, my dear?” Winston glanced over his shoulder as they arrived at the hallway leading to their rooms.

  Ewan tensed. Was Laura Winston’s “dear,” or was Winston merely intent upon staking his claim when he deemed an adversary might be vying for her attention? “No, you didn’t, but I know Mother is hopeful your political career will prove a great success.”

  When they’d come to a stop in front of the suite occupied by the two ladies, Winston turned to Laura. “I trust you desire the same success for me.”

  “I would wish failure only upon those who attempt to reach their goals by deception and fraud or at the expense of others. Since I doubt you fall into any of those categories, I wish you success.” Her lips tilted in a fleeting smile before she stepped toward the door. As she turned to look over her shoulder, the abrupt movement caused the feathers on her hat to sway.

  Her comment was a reminder that Ewan’s uncle had accumulated the funds to purchase the brickyard by cheating at cards. If Laura knew, what would she do? Would she ask her mother to renege on the contract?

  Ewan’s stomach clenched so tight he was overcome by a bout of queasiness. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to my room.” Without waiting for an answer, he hurried down the hallway.

  “Don’t forget to meet us downstairs at seven o’clock, Mr. McKay.”

  Ewan continued moving but waved to acknowledge Mrs. Woodfield’s reminder. Right now he didn’t want to think about a dinner party.

  While they rode in the carriage to the governor’s home, Laura quietly explained to Ewan what he could expect throughout the evening. She even encouraged him to watch her, should he feel uncertain about proper etiquette. She told him that if the governor wanted to give thanks for the meal, he’d do it himself, and Ewan should not offer. Knowing there would be many people present, he hadn’t planned to ask, but he thanked her for advising him.

  As they continued onward, Laura pointed out the state capitol. Ewan was disappointed. The building was nothing more than a rectangular brick structure, not the impressive building Ewan had anticipated.

  When he stated that he considered the building rather uninspiring, Laura was quick to defend the choice. “You must remember that West Virginia wasn’t admitted to the Union until 1863. During the war, the construction of an impressive capitol building wasn’t important to the people of our state. We were focused upon winning the war. When the building that housed the Linsly School was offered, it seemed a perfect answer.” Her lips curved in a generous smile. “Our legislators have been able to accomplish their work, and I’m not aware of any complaints—or any offers of money to build a new state capitol.”

  “I did not mean my remarks as an insult, but both Scotland and Ireland are countries where the gentry and our rulers possess huge castles. I expected something more massive and grand.”

  “No need for apologies. Perhaps one day we will have a beautiful capitol building, but this has served us well thus far. I think you’ve forgotten that America is a much younger country than either Scotland or Ireland. While you may see a number of forts in our country, I doubt you’ll find any castles that compare with the ones in your homeland.” Laura glanced out the carriage window. “Here we are. This is the governor’s home. I do hope you’ll enjoy the evening.”

  At dinner, Ewan was seated across from Laura and Winston, with an elderly lady to his right and a younger woman to his left. He did his best to make conversation, but the elderly lady couldn’t hear, and the younger one was interested in the young man seated to her other side. For the majority of the dinner, he silently watched Laura’s every movement and was pleased to receive an occasional nod of approval and smile.

  After dinner, he followed the other guests up a winding stairway to a ballroom on the third floor of the home and leaned against a wall located near the doors to the balcony—a place where he could escape and gain a bit of fresh air if needed. When the music began, the governor escorted his wife onto the dance floor to lead the customary first dance. As soon as the governor signaled for their guests to join in, Winston and Laura were among the first couples to step forward. They swirled around the dance floor, her pale green gown shimmering in the candlelight. Her beauty captured the interest of ev
ery man and woman in the room. From his spot near the balcony, Ewan maintained a close watch and didn’t miss the fact that Winston monopolized her time. Although she’d offered her dance card to Ewan before they’d come upstairs, he had declined. He might know how to dance a Britannia two-step or a Circassian circle, but his knowledge of American dances wasn’t any greater than his knowledge of their state buildings and rules of etiquette. Besides, making a fool of himself in front of all these people held no appeal.

  After watching for a short time, he retreated to the balcony. He’d been there only a few minutes when Laura drew near. “I hope you’re not planning to jump.”

  Ewan chuckled and shook his head. “Nay, but I heard two of the ladies mention the party would continue until the wee hours of the morning. If I’m required to remain until then, I might reconsider. Will we be here much longer?”

  “I’m afraid so, but if you’d rather return to the hotel, you can thank Governor and Mrs. Boreman for their invitation and add your regrets that you must depart early. They will understand. You’re not the only one who will leave before the party ends.”

  “What about the carriage?”

  “You can have the driver take you back to the hotel and ask him to return and wait for us. An additional trip means more money. He’ll be glad to take you.”

  “I’ll be remembering your instructions should I leave early.” Ewan glanced over his shoulder. “Where’s Winston?”

  She nodded toward the dance floor. “His obligatory dance with the governor’s wife.”

  He hadn’t realized there were obligatory dances. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. Why hadn’t Laura told him? He glanced toward the ground below. “If I’m required to dance with the governor’s wife, I may change my mind and leap off this balcony. These American dances are unknown to me.”