The Brickmaker's Bride

by Judith Miller

Winston jumped to his feet. “Not at all, Mrs. Woodfield. There’s no need for concern. Laura and I have a small matter of disagreement, but I’m sure we’ll be able to reach an amicable resolution before the evening’s end.”

  Laura pinned him with a stern look. If he thought they were going to reach an amicable resolution, he’d be the one making all the concessions. There were few issues where she would go to such lengths, but saving the brickyard from ruin was one. She would not stand by and do nothing while the bank seized the brickyard.

  Instead of taking Winston’s arm, Laura assisted her mother to the carriage and leaned close once they were seated inside. “We need to talk.”

  Her mother gave a slight nod. “We’ll find time at the party. I hope this isn’t serious.”

  Laura hoped her mother would align with her rather than Winston. Surely she wouldn’t support any action to seize the brickyard. Perhaps Mother could convince Mr. Swinnen to act in a reasonable and Christian manner. If not, all of Ewan’s dreams could be destroyed.

  The dinner astounded Laura. Mrs. Crothers had seen to every detail, and the food had been sumptuous. From the chicken consommé that began the meal to the fruit trifle at the end, each course had been prepared and served with meticulous care. When they’d finished their dessert and coffee, Laura silently chided herself for thinking Margaret lacked the skill to carry off a dinner party for guests with such exacting tastes and expectations, for other than requesting addresses for the invitations, Margaret hadn’t asked for any help from Laura or her mother.

  Yet when they’d first met, Margaret had been clear that she’d never hosted large formal gatherings. The woman possessed hidden talents if she’d accomplished this feat without advice and with such expert ease, especially since her permanent staff consisted of distant relatives from Ireland, who’d likely never been charged with serving a formal dinner. Perhaps Margaret had befriended one of the other guests and requested assistance with the details.

  As the men retreated to the library after dinner, Laura and the other women were escorted to a formal parlor, where a talented pianist treated them to music that ranged from Hermann Goetz’s Concerto no. 2 for Piano in B-flat Major to “The Blue Danube” and “The Man on the Flying Trapeze.” Laura learned from Mr. Swinnen’s wife that the pianist had traveled from Wheeling with some of the other guests attending the party.

  Mrs. Crothers leaned close as the pianist completed her final selection. “Isn’t she wonderful? Mrs. Blount suggested her name to me.”

  Laura arched her brows. “Really? I didn’t know you and Naomi Blount were acquainted.”

  “I discovered it only takes a name dropped here or there among the socially elite before your own name becomes quite well known among those in the group.” The older woman’s lips curved in a cunning smile. “Please excuse me. I need to speak to Naomi and thank her for her wonderful suggestion.”

  Laura stared after the woman. If determination could win her a place among the socially elite, Mrs. Crothers would soon be on the social register in the states of both West Virginia and Pennsylvania.

  Feeling no compunction, Laura waved Rose to the empty chair beside her. No doubt Winston would be unhappy if he saw Rose visiting with Laura, but she cared not a whit what he might say. Rose’s dress of soft blue silk looked lovely against her pale skin and dark hair. “You look lovely this evening. The blue of your dress makes your eyes even more beautiful. Once the dancing begins, I’m sure you’ll have lots of fellows filling your dance card.”

  The color in Rose’s cheeks heightened. “I don’t know how to dance very well, so I may refuse unless it’s a waltz. Kathleen taught me how to waltz, but our dances in Ireland are not the same as those here in America.”

  “Who taught Kathleen how to waltz?”

  Rose glanced around and then leaned a little closer. “I’m not supposed to tell, but it was Terrance O’Grady. He’s been in the country longer, and he’s learned quite a few of the dance steps.”

  “I see. Well, it was kind of her to teach you. I’ll be sure to keep your secret. Next time you’re at the house, I’d be happy to teach you some new steps.” Laura squeezed the girl’s hand. “The dinner was quite lovely, don’t you think?”

  Rose nodded. “I wish Aunt Margaret would have given Ainslee and Adaira permission to eat with us. They worked very hard completing every task Aunt Margaret assigned them and were sorely disappointed when she said they’d have to eat in the kitchen because children weren’t permitted at the party.

  “Ainslee argued that it was Aunt Margaret’s party and she could let children be seated with the adults if she wanted, but Aunt Margaret would not change her mind. I’m happy we’ll soon have a house to ourselves. I think Ewan is pleased, too.”

  Rose had spoken his name only moments before Ewan approached. “I see you’ve been keeping Laura company. I thought the women were to have some sort of entertainment while the men were in the library.”

  Rose smiled up at her brother. “We did. There was a piano recital.”

  Laura kept her gaze trained on Ewan while Rose detailed the happenings of the past hour. His usual good nature wasn’t shining through, and she wondered if the conversation in the library had revolved around problems at the brickyard.

  Once Rose finished telling her brother how some of the women had joined in to sing the lyrics to “The Man on the Flying Trapeze,” Laura turned in her chair. “I understand there was a terrible mishap at the brickyard last night.”

  “I’m afraid so.” Ewan ran his hand through his hair. “We lost two full kilns, which is a terrible blow. I don’t see how we’re going to make the bank payment within the allotted grace period. Uncle Hugh says I’m too quick to toll the death knell, but after talking to Mr. Swinnen in the library, I’m afraid that unless the good Lord grants us a miracle, we’ll lose the brickyard.” Ewan stepped around the row of chairs and sat down on the other side of Laura. “I tried to reason with Mr. Swinnen, but he wasn’t willing to hear a thing I was saying.”

  Weariness gathered in shadowy pockets beneath his eyes, and she longed to say something to comfort him. “Maybe someone needs to point out that having the brickyard sit idle is going to have a terrible impact on lots of folks in Bartlett. There are men who gave up their jobs in the coal mines and others who’ve moved here for work. Now they’ll be without any means to support their families. The stores in town will suffer, as well.”

  Ewan nodded. “You’re right. And we’ll be able to make the payment within six or eight weeks at the most, but Mr. Swinnen didn’t seem to care. He says the bank has to look out for the stockholders.”

  Laura bristled. The bank president was giving Ewan the same response she’d gotten from Winston only a few hours ago. “If you’ll excuse me, Ewan, I need to go and speak with my mother.”

  He pushed to his feet as she stood. “I’m sorry. This is a party, and here I am talking about my problems at the bank. Forgive me.”

  “You weren’t boring me, and you don’t need to apologize. I’m the one who brought up the brickyard.” She glanced across the room and signaled her mother. “However, before we left Woodfield Manor, I told Mother I needed to speak with her.”

  She pointed to the dance card on her wrist. “A lady isn’t supposed to mention empty lines on her dance card, but I’d be pleased if you’d fill in a few of mine.”

  He grinned and gave a nod. “I’d be delighted, so long as you don’t mind having your toes stepped on several times.”

  “I’ll be pleased to take my chances.” She held out her dance card, and his fingers rested on her hand for a little longer than necessary. Her pulse quickened as she looked into Ewan’s eyes and remembered his kiss. That moment had confirmed what she’d tried to deny since she’d first met him. Her feelings for him went much deeper than friendship. This was one time Winston would not be pleased he’d been correct.

  Laura escorted her mother to the upstairs parlor that had been set aside for the women to refresh themselves through
out the evening. Several ladies sat in front of mirrors, carefully repinning their coiffures or checking lip rouge while they exchanged the latest gossip. Laura grasped her mother’s arm and pointed toward a brocade settee in the far corner. “Let’s sit over there, where we won’t be overheard.”

  Her mother feigned a look of alarm as she clasped a hand to her bodice. “Oh, this does sound like it’s going to be a clandestine conversation. How exciting!”

  “Don’t make fun, Mother. What I’m going to ask of you truly must be carried out in the strictest of confidence. Otherwise, the consequences will be life altering for many of those in attendance here.”

  Her mother leaned back into the cushioned settee. “You’ve certainly managed to gain my attention. Don’t keep me waiting any longer, or my heart may fail me.”

  Chapter 22

  Four days after the party, Laura was surprised when Kathleen Roark arrived at the front door of Woodfield Manor not long after breakfast. Laura was so amazed that she peered around Kathleen, certain Margaret Crothers must be following on her sister’s heels. Though Kathleen seemed a sweet young woman, Laura hadn’t had much opportunity to visit with her. Kathleen’s previous visits to Woodfield Manor had always been in the company of Margaret, who overshadowed her younger sister and afforded Kathleen little opportunity to interact.

  “Will your sister be joining us?”

  Kathleen shook her head. “Nay. I’m alone.”

  Laura stepped to the side. “Do come in. I’m pleased to see you.”

  Kathleen obviously did not realize that proper etiquette required an invitation before paying a call so early in the day. Otherwise, a written note requesting a visit and allowing ample time for acceptance or refusal should have been delivered.

  Catherine hurried from the kitchen, wiping her hands on the corner of her white apron. “I’m sorry, Miss Laura. I was kneading dough, and you got to the door before me.”

  “No need for an apology, Catherine. When you have a moment, could you bring us something cool to drink?” The maid scurried back to the kitchen, and Laura waved Kathleen toward the parlor. “Please sit down. You look overheated.”

  The midmorning sun had ascended over the towering trees in the yard and promised another surprisingly uncomfortable day for late September. The heat had colored Kathleen’s cheeks crimson, and perspiration dotted her forehead. Her black leather shoes and the hem of her plaid skirt were coated with a fine layer of dust.

  She dropped into one of the overstuffed chairs, snapped open her fan, and flapped it with a vengeance. “I didn’t realize it was so warm, or I would have chosen to arrive earlier.”

  Laura bit back a grin. If Kathleen had arrived any earlier, she would have been on their doorstep in time for breakfast.

  Kathleen leaned forward and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “I didn’t want Margaret to know I was going to pay you a visit, so I had her carriage driver deliver me to Ewan’s house and then sent Margaret’s carriage back home. I had planned to have Ewan’s driver bring me here but discovered he and the girls had taken the carriage into town.” She sighed and sank deeper into the chair. “I had no choice but to walk here in this terrible heat.”

  Laura didn’t mention the fact that Kathleen could have waited until after the sun had begun to lower in the western sky. Then again, she was likely expected home before then. Catherine returned with glasses and a pitcher of lemonade.

  The maid glanced at Kathleen before turning to Laura. “I made up this pitcher special for your mother, but she’s resting. Says she has a headache.”

  “It’s fortunate for us that you made the lemonade, but I’m sorry to hear Mrs. Woodfield isn’t well.” Kathleen didn’t wait for Catherine or Laura to complete their hostess duties. Instead, she grasped the pitcher handle and proceeded to fill the two empty glasses to the brim. After downing a large gulp, she placed the glass back on the tray. “That’s delicious. I apologize for my lack of etiquette, but I was parched.”

  She fidgeted with the pleats in her skirt. “Margaret says she can’t take her eyes off me when we’re out among her friends. She says I’m truly an embarrassment, but I can’t remember all those rules. Truth is, I don’t know how Margaret learned ’em all so fast, but she’s got her a mind like a steel trap.” Kathleen tapped the side of her head. “Once something gets in there, it stays forever.”

  “Your sister is very fortunate to have an excellent memory, but I don’t think you’ve ever exhibited bad manners in front of me, Kathleen. You poured a glass of lemonade for me, so I don’t think your manners could be considered lacking by anyone.” Laura reached forward and patted the girl’s hand. “Besides, I’m certain you were very thirsty.”

  Kathleen continued to fidget. Several times she wiped her handkerchief around her glass to remove the condensation, straightened the pleats in her skirt, and glanced about the room as if she needed to catch sight of something that would calm her.

  When Laura could stand the tension no longer, she set her glass on the tray and looked at Kathleen. “I’m delighted to have you visit, but I have a feeling there’s something in particular that’s brought you to Woodfield Manor. Am I correct?”

  “Yes, that’s right.” Kathleen didn’t look up from wiping her glass.

  Laura could only surmise this was going to be a game of cat and mouse, but she didn’t know if she was the cat or the mouse. “Did you wish to speak with my mother?”

  Kathleen shrank back. “Oh no. I could never talk to Mrs. Woodfield about my problem.”

  At least Laura had been able to discover there was a problem and Kathleen needed to discuss it with her. Now, if she could just pry the girl out of her shell and get her to reveal the problem . . . “Have things been chaotic at home since the mishap at the brickyard?”

  “Aye. My sister has been on a blithering rampage. What with all the money she’s spent building the new house and buying all the furnishings, she’s worked herself into quite a frenzy. Of course, her greatest fear is that she’ll lose all the worldly belongings she finds so important. But she’s also fretting about what people will say if the brickyard is seized by the bank. She says we’ll all have to leave the state if that happens.”

  Laura shook her head. “I think your sister may be overreacting a bit. There are other people who have suffered business losses, and they’ve managed to continue living in West Virginia. Besides, I’m hopeful financial matters can be rearranged so that there’s no seizure at the brickyard.” Laura took a sip of her lemonade. “Is that what brought you for a visit today? Concern over your sister?”

  “Aye, but not regarding the matters I mentioned. There’s another bit of a problem. One that I’ve not yet mentioned to my sister.” Kathleen’s fingers trembled at the mention of her sister. “I fear if I tell Margaret, she’ll burst forth in a hurricane of rage that won’t soon be forgotten. I remember how she ranted at Hugh back in Ireland when—” The sad-eyed girl stopped short and gave a slight shake of her head. “I should not be tellin’ family secrets. It’s not proper, and that’s not the reason I came here.”

  Laura wished Kathleen would speak up, but she didn’t want to push her. The young woman appeared ready to swoon each time her sister’s name was mentioned. “Whatever the reason, I’m glad you decided to pay me a visit. Rose and the twins come over quite often.”

  “Aye, they’ve told me about their visits. Margaret doesn’t want the girls to come, but Ewan told her that he’d make the decisions regarding his sisters.” She straightened her drooping shoulders. “And I say good for Ewan! He’s the only one who’s ever had the courage to stand up to Margaret.” She covered her mouth with her fingers. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “You need not worry, Kathleen. The girls have already told me that Margaret isn’t fond of having them visit Woodfield Manor, though I don’t understand why.”

  “You do not know?” When Laura shook her head, the girl’s eyes grew as large as silver dollars. “My sister fears you want to cont
inue to have a say in the brickyard. Hugh has told her the idea is foolish, but she says if you’d had a husband, you would never have sold the business. She thinks you hope to marry Ewan so you can gain control of the business, and she’s decided you’re trying to win the girls over in order to win Ewan’s affection.” She ducked her head. “Margaret even tried to make a match between me and Ewan, but he was quick to tell her she’d not be choosing his wife. I was thankful for his courage. I couldn’t have been as firm with Margaret, but Ewan is not the man I want to marry.”

  A rich shade of pink returned to Kathleen’s cheeks at the mention of marriage. Was that why she’d come to visit? Did she fear telling Margaret she was going marry? Did she need help planning her wedding? Laura’s mind swirled with that possibility.

  “Do you have a beau you’re planning to marry? Do you want me to help you with your wedding plans?” When the girl didn’t immediately respond, Laura let out a slight gasp. “It’s Terrance O’Grady, the young man who danced with you at the Hogmanay party.” Laura grinned. “Am I right?”

  “You’re partly right and partly wrong.” Her shoulders drooped back into their earlier slumped position. “I do love Terrance, but I’ve not come to ask you about planning a wedding.” She inhaled a long breath. “The truth of the matter is . . . I’m going to have a baby.”

  Laura grasped her lemonade glass in a tight hold. She needed to remain composed and supportive. The last thing Kathleen needed was a barrage of criticism from her. Margaret would be sure to voice her condemnation in a loud and lengthy discourse. “If you are to have a child, then it seems a wedding is what’s needed. Don’t you agree?”

  “Aye, ’tis true, but I’ve not told anyone but you. Terrance does not know, and I’m not so sure he’s going to look fondly on the news.” Her voice warbled and she swallowed hard. “We began to secretly meet each other a few weeks before the Hogmanay party, and he promised to speak to Hugh about courting me, but after all these months, he still hasn’t gained the courage. He hasn’t come to meet me for several weeks now.” She folded her hands in her lap. “By my reckoning, the babe will be born in March.”