by Marie Silk
In the drawing room of Davenport House, Fiona stepped in to address Clara. “Mr. Valenti is waiting outside for you, Miss Clara.”
“He is?” she asked in surprise. “I don’t remember ordering the car.”
“He has just walked over from next door. I think he only wants to talk to you,” Fiona replied.
Clara left the room to meet her neighbor and chauffeur, Phillip Valenti, on the outside steps the house. “Good afternoon,” she greeted. “Have you come to see me?”
“I signed up for service at the war office today. They’ll give me papers if I help them with this War, so I’ll be leaving for training soon. I thought I should offer to give Sam driving lessons in the meantime. That way, you’ll have someone to take you to town when I’m away.”
“I’ve been so busy that I suppose I forgot about all this happening with the War. When will you have to go?” Clara asked with a hint of concern in her voice.
“Next week is when I go to training camp,” he answered. “I have enough time to teach Sam about the car, and my sister Serena will watch the children while I’m gone.” Phillip smiled. “But when I come back, I’ll be a real American.”
Clara managed a smile too. “I’m happy for you, Phillip. And I would be grateful if you could teach Sam to drive before you leave. Thank you.”
Phillip nodded. “Of course. It’s been a pleasure working for you, Clara.”
After Phillip spoke with Clara, he drove Abigail and Bridget into town for shopping. They passed the local war office which was set up next to the general store. “I’ve never seen such a line at the war office before,” remarked Abigail. “I wonder why so many are enlisting today.” Bridget appeared to be daydreaming and did not answer. Abigail giggled and asked, “Have you heard from your young man?”
Bridget snapped out of her trance and felt her cheeks burning. “I have not heard from him. He promised to come visit me at the house, but he must be held up in Philadelphia.”
“Do you suppose he enlisted?” Abigail questioned.
“I should hope not! He wouldn’t have done so without telling me. He is probably on his way to see me now. I’m certain he will come…” Bridget trailed off.
Abigail smiled at her. “I’m certain he will.”
Later that evening when Abigail was dressing for dinner at the house, Ethan entered the bedroom sorrowfully. “Where have you been all day?” she asked when he came into the room. She then noticed he appeared downcast. “What has happened?” she asked quickly.
“I have bad news,” he started. “I went to the war office today…”
“You did? We must have just missed you. Bridget and I saw a long line of men standing outside. Why did you go?”
“There’s a new law. That’s why you saw it like that today. Every man over twenty-one and under thirty who doesn’t sign up for service will be punished.”
Abigail looked at him in dismay. “Ethan, trust me, you want nothing to do with those people. Not with this War. They can’t make you fight against your will.”
“That’s just it—they can. I went to find out if there was an exception for me, but the military won’t allow it.” He paused with a labored sigh. “They want me to start training next week.”
Abigail gasped. “Ethan, tell me you won’t really go! My cousins were not even part of that Rebellion in Dublin, and the English murdered them all! You cannot join such people!”
Ethan held up his hands in defeat. “I don’t have a choice. Would you rather me be in jail for refusing?”
Abigail felt tears stinging her eyes. “This can’t be happening.” She wiped her face and lowered herself onto the bed. “We can go to California to be with your pa. We can go to Canada. Anything but this!”
Ethan kneeled on the floor in front of her. “I’m sorry, Abigail. I can’t run away like a criminal. The lieutenant in Yorktown said the War is almost over anyway. All we have to do is go help the French finish things up, and we’ll be back home before you know it.”
Abigail lay back on the bed. “I don’t want to go to dinner tonight. Not until we find a solution that does not involve your going to France.” They stayed in the room for the rest of the night, but their talks never came to a solution.
The house was grim the day of Ethan’s departure for training camp. Abigail was inconsolable and the others could hear her weeping in the bedroom. “Don’t do this, I beg of you,” she cried.
“I have to post this letter to Pa,” Ethan said in a low voice while he sealed an envelope.
“It’s not too late,” Abigail persisted. “We can get on the next train for California and they will never find you.”
Ethan stood up from the writing desk and gazed sorrowfully at Abigail on the bed. “I have to leave now,” he said gently.
Abigail cried into her hands and did not look up at him. She soon felt his arms holding her tight and the warmth of him whispering in her ear, “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I love you more than anything.” That feeling of warmth soon vanished when she heard his footsteps toward the door, then the door open and close. Abigail looked up from her hands. Ethan was gone.
William and Mary waited at the bottom of the staircase. Clara also stood nearby. Ethan walked down the stairs slowly, hanging his head. “Abigail won’t come down,” he mumbled.
Mary hugged him tightly but could feel her heart sinking into her stomach when she realized that her brother was really leaving. “I’ll take care of Abigail as best I can. I promise,” she said to him.
“Thank you, Mary,” he replied emotionally.
“Are you ready?” William asked him.
Ethan nodded and followed William to the car in the front drive. He looked back at the house behind him, hoping to catch a glimpse of Abigail in the bedroom window. She was not there. She was racing down the staircase after drying her face, hoping to say a proper goodbye to him, but the car had already left. “Am I too late?” she asked breathlessly.
“They have just gone,” Mary said gently.
“Oh Mary, I never told him goodbye, or even that I loved him. What if it takes months or years for him to return?”
Mary put her arms around Abigail. “He knows you love him. Don’t worry about that.”
Clara gave her a compassionate look. “Is there anything I may do to help you feel better today?”
“Thank you, Clara, but I don’t see how I can feel better until we are all together again, as it should be.” She slowly returned up the stairs to her room.
“Do you think she’ll be alright?” Clara asked Mary.
“Give her time,” Mary responded. “I believe we will see her recover if she finds a worthy cause to keep her occupied.”
“But Abigail doesn’t believe in this War,” Clara said.
“No, she does not,” sighed Mary. “Clara, we should not forget about Serena Valenti. I understand that Phillip has also left today for training camp.”
Clara nodded sadly. “He did tell me that he was leaving. Oh Mary, I do hope the men will be alright.”
“We must believe that they will. Otherwise, we will be miserable until their return. For now, let us be sure to support poor Serena. She is at the farmhouse alone with the children and she needs to know we will be here for her if there is anything she needs.”
“Good idea, Mary,” Clara agreed. “Should we walk over now to talk to her?”
Mary hesitated. “I think I should go to Abigail now.”
“Then I will go to the farmhouse and pay Serena a visit,” decided Clara. Mary went up the staircase to be with Abigail, and Clara left for the Valentis’ farmhouse.
In the servants’ quarters of the house, Bridget was waiting in Fiona’s bedroom. “Bridget? What are you doing down here?” Fiona asked curiously.
Bridget looked up with her tear-stained face. “Abigail wishes to be alone. She is terribly grieved that her husband has left today.”
“Poor Miss Abigail,” Fiona answered.
“Fiona, do you think that Lawren
ce would have joined the army without telling me? It has been months and I have still not heard from him.”
“Did you write to him?”
“I would have if only I knew his address. I sometimes wonder if I should return to the manor house just to see if he is alright. He should have written or come to visit me by now.”
“If he loves you, then he will come,” Fiona assured her.
Bridget smiled. “I’m certain that he loves me. I can’t wait for you to meet him, Fiona. I hope that Lawrence and I are married by summer’s end!”
“You will surely be married before I am,” laughed Fiona. “I will be a housekeeper into my old age.”
“You’ll find someone, just as I have,” Bridget encouraged. “Don’t give up hope just yet.”
At the Valentis’ farmhouse, Clara was about to knock on the door. She could hear the children inside the house, asking questions about their father. “But when will Papa be back?” rang the voice of Gabriella, who was seven years old.
“He’ll be back before we know it. Now, finish eating your breakfast so you can go play,” Serena’s voice answered. Clara knocked softly on the door. Serena timidly greeted her. “Miss Davenport, good morning.”
“Good morning,” answered Clara. “I understand that your brother has left for military service, and I wanted to tell you that you are welcome to come to us if you need anything. If you need a ride to town, Sam can take you in our car. And if you need help with the children, we are just a short walk away.”
Serena put her hand to her heart and breathed in relief. “Thank you, Miss Davenport. I am grateful that you have come today. I don’t know how long Phillip will be.”
“Please do not hesitate if there is anything you need,” she replied. “And please, call me Clara. I hope that we may become friends while the men are away.”
“Thank you, Clara. It’s not so easy to meet people who are generous to us. It’s one of the reasons my brother volunteered for this War. He thinks people might be nicer to us, so long as he has his American papers. But you have been kind to us all along. I’ll be sure to stop by if there is anything I need. Thank you again, Clara, and good day.”
Clara left the farmhouse feeling content. When she returned to the house, she nearly walked into the drawing room, but stopped suddenly when she noticed a man sitting on the sofa. Clara quietly backed away from the entrance before the man could see her. She then whispered to Fiona, who had just come into the Hall. “Why is someone in the drawing room?”
“Mr. Blake has come to see you, Miss Clara,” she answered. “I could not find you to announce his arrival.”
“But, who is he?” asked Clara.
“He said he is our neighbor.”
Clara again peered into the doorway of the drawing room, but this time the man looked her way and stood up quickly. “ ‘Afternoon, Ma’am,” he greeted.
Clara suddenly felt nervous, but tried to remain calm as she went to meet him properly. “Good afternoon,” she replied.
“My name’s Joe Blake. I just bought the five hundred acres next to you and came to introduce myself. Is the lady of the house in?”
“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Blake. I am Clara Davenport.”
Joe reacted in surprise. “Oh! You’re the lady of the house? I expected someone different.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, I was told the Miss Davenport who lived here was an old spinster.” Joe regretted his words instantly while Clara gaped in horror. “I meant to say—you’re not an old spinster! I don’t know why anyone would say that about you—” He quickly made his way for the exit. “I’m sorry, Ma’am, I have to go. I’m just next door if you need anything!” He bolted through the room and out the front door, leaving Clara bewildered in the drawing room.
Chapter 3
“Howdy, Neighbor,” Joe Blake greeted Sam on the warm summer day. Sam was letting the horses out to the pasture when Joe arrived.
“Howdy,” answered Sam. “How’s the ranch going?”
“Well, could be better. That cotton-pickin’ Draft stole both of my ranch hands. It’s tough to find a man to work these days. I told the war office I couldn’t handle it all on my own, but they said the boys were more needed in France. Now it’s just me handling the ranch alone. I wondered if you might like some extra work. I can pay you well.”
“Extra work!” laughed Sam. “Miss Davenport lost her driver and the stable hand to the military. Now I’m doing the job of three men.”
Joe laughed too. “Then I guess I feel guilty asking you to lend a hand for a minute.”
Sam looked toward the house. “I wish I could, but I gotta bring the car around for Miss Davenport.”
Joe smiled wide. “I met Miss Davenport just last week. Boy, is she beautiful or what? How is that lady not married yet?”
Sam laughed. “I just work here. You could go ask her why.”
Joe groaned. “I already made a fool of myself when I first visited. I just wondered why she’s still unmarried, that’s all. Anyway, if you ever find some extra time, my offer stands. I’ll be happy to take any help I can get at the ranch.”
“Thanks, but I’ll be busy here for a while,” Sam replied. “Besides, I can’t let Miss Davenport down.”
“No, I wouldn’t want that either. See you, Sam.”
At the town hall in Yorktown, Clara was concluding a meeting for the support of women’s suffrage. “We’ve all worked hard to come this far, and I have some cheerful news for you all. I will be hosting a garden party at my estate next week and you are all invited.” The ladies whispered excitedly amongst themselves. At the end of the meeting, several ladies rose from their seats to speak with Clara and express their anticipation of the garden party. Clara was surprised to see a new face among those in attendance; not surprised because the face was new, but because it belonged to a man. Clara noticed him right away when the meeting started and he seemed to be staring at her, even while the other ladies were giving their speeches.
Clara seated herself at a table to organize her notes while the others left the town hall. She looked up from her seat when one of the ladies approached with the stranger.
“Miss Davenport, here is Mr. Collins. He is new in town and expressed a desire to meet you,” she explained.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Collins,” Clara greeted cheerfully. “It’s always refreshing to make the acquaintance a man who supports our cause.”
Mr. Collins shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I mostly came to see to see what your cause is all about.”
“It’s the simple request that women be recognized as equals in the voting populace,” Clara answered.
Mr. Collins shrugged. “I don’t see what difference it makes. A woman will simply vote for whoever her husband tells her to.”
Clara raised her eyebrow at him and continued, “Does not a married woman deserve a voice of her own? And what if a woman has no husband?”
Mr. Collins laughed. “You got me there, Miss Davenport. You know, those posters going around town make you suffragettes look like crazy old women. You don’t fit that description at all, Miss Davenport. In fact, I bet if more men could see what a real suffragette looks like, a lot more of them might come to your meetings. I know I’ll be attending more often.”
Clara was not sure if she should be flattered or offended, but she felt a little of both. She responded quickly after gathering the last of her notes, “Then I am sure to see you again. Good day, Mr. Collins.” He smiled at her before he turned to leave the room. When Mr. Collins had gone out the door, Clara whispered to the lady who introduced him. “Isabel, what do you know about Mr. Collins?”
“This is the first I’ve seen him,” Isabel replied with a wry smile. “But he certainly seems to know about you.”
“How could he?” asked Clara.
“You are popular in town now. Many of the young people look up to you. Although, from the way Mr. Collins was staring at you, I think he is
interested in more than only your politics.”
“Oh, honestly Isabel!” Clara said, feeling a rush of redness to her cheeks. “I doubt very much that is why he came today.”
Isabel smiled knowingly at Clara before she left the town hall. “I can’t wait for your garden party, Clara.”
Clara later returned to the house and stepped out back to wander in the gardens. She envisioned the party taking place in the clearing, and a delightful buffet set up near the rose bushes. She heard a sound coming from behind the bushes, like a hoofed animal was walking along the other side. Clara held her breath. She thought one of the horses must have wandered into the garden. When she peered from the other side of the bushes, she could see that the animal was not one of the horses. Clara gasped at the sight of a cow eating from the flower bed below. “Stop that at once! Shoo! Shoo!” she demanded. The cow did not shoo, but looked up at Clara with a disinterested expression before it went back to chewing on the flowers. Clara hurried to the stable in the hopes of finding Sam, but he was not there. She groaned as she held her skirt in her hand and tried to run to the new neighbor’s cottage. She was flustered and out of breath when she got there and pounded on the door. “Mr. Blake! Mr. Blake!”
Joe answered in surprise. “ ‘Afternoon, Miss Davenport.”
Clara tried to catch her breath. “Your cow—I saw it—in my garden!”
Joe chuckled. “That would be Ol’ Bess. I wondered where she went.” Joe peered around Clara. “Where is she?”
“Still eating my flower beds, I’m sure!” she cried.
“Oh. I thought you would’ve brought her with you.”
Clara looked aghast. “I don’t know how to bring a cow!”
Joe was unsuccessful at stifling his smile. “I’m sorry, Miss Davenport. I’ll go get her right away.” He put on his hat and ran straight to the gardens. Clara picked up her skirt again and went as quickly as she could, but Joe was already heading toward her with Ol’ Bess before she reached the gardens. “I apologize, Ma’am. Looks like she got most of your flowers.”
Clara put her hand to her forehead in despair. “But I am to have a garden party on Saturday.”
