Harriett nodded. “Most girls do.” She frowned for a moment. “I ran my mail order bride business for a few years and got good at picking out the best men for the brides that wanted to marry. I’ll jot down some notes about what to look for. My butler would be happy to ask questions about each of the men as well. He’s very good at investigating men.” She blushed as soon as the words were out of her mouth.
Max was standing behind her and asked, “Is that why he came out here early? To make sure I wasn’t hiding anything?” His eyes looked sad, like he was hurt she hadn’t trusted him.
Harriett spun around when she heard his voice, her eyes closing as she faced him. Behind her she heard Mary excuse herself discreetly. Finally, she nodded. “I was afraid to marry someone who I didn’t know anything about.” She knew she was being unfair, because they had written for two full years, but still she worried about what a future with him would be like.
He shook his head. “We’d been writing to each other for two years!”
She shrugged helplessly. “I couldn’t marry a man I’d never seen. Even if I had been writing to him for two years.” Her eyes pled with him for understanding.
He nodded slowly, indicating he understood whether he did or not. “I guess we can’t change it now, can we?”
Harriett could tell by the look in his eyes that he was disappointed in her, but he didn’t have time to say anything else, because Violet and Iris came into the room then, each of them with something in their hands. Violet, who had not said a word to Harriett before that moment, handed her a small canvas. On it were small paintings of each of the oldest four girls with their name beside it.
Harriett was amazed by the girl’s talent. “Did you paint these?” she asked. Each one was a perfect likeness of the girls she’d met on her wedding day.
Violet nodded. “Do you like them?”
“They’re going to be so helpful!” It would be easy to learn the girl’s names with something so beautifully done. She looked down at the pictures as she read each girl’s name. Rose was the oldest and had her brunette hair pulled into an elaborate bun in the picture. Lily, the tomboy, had her red hair in a knot at the nape of her neck, as if she was trying to hide the fact she was a girl and make her hair look like it was short. Amaryllis, the bookworm, as Harriett thought of her had her long, dirty blond hair in braids with her spectacles perched on the end of her nose. Daisy, one of the girls Harriett didn’t remember at all, had her dark hair hanging in braids down her back, her eyes downcast as if she were feeling shy about something.
Harriett smiled at Violet. “You did a beautiful job!” She was sure Violet would be able to support herself with her art someday if she chose to.
Iris held out the second canvas which she was still holding. “This is the rest of us.”
“Thank you!” Harriett remembered Iris because of the squirrel incident at dinner the last time she was there. She looked down at the second canvas. Again, the girls were in order of age. Jasmine had bright red hair, the only true carrot-top of the bunch. In the picture it was pulled back into braids. Hyacinth was next with her chestnut hair in braids as well. Harriett remembered how excited she was when her mother had let her start wearing her hair up instead of in braids.
The last two pictures were of the girls before her. Violet wore her long blond hair in braids like she did in person, and Iris had hers in ringlets. Harriett opened her arms to hug the two girls. “Thank you so much for bringing these to me.”
Her eyes met Max’s over the girl’s heads and she noted the tender look in his eyes as he watched her hugging his nieces. She hoped that meant he’d forgiven her for sending Higgins out to check on him. She knew she was going to have to tell him the whole truth of her past soon so that he would be able to understand her.
Mary came then and called them in to supper. Harriett took her seat beside Max and squeezed his hand under the table. “Are we okay?” She studied his face as she asked the question, worried he’d hold a grudge against her for having him investigated.
Max nodded, not meeting her eyes. She sighed heavily, knowing that they wouldn’t be truly all right until she told him everything, but wanting to wait just a bit longer.
Max watched Harriett through dinner, liking the way she interacted with his family, but hurt to the core by the way she’d had him investigated. What had she been thinking doing that? Had she really trusted him so little right up until the day she’d married him? What had she been looking for anyway?
He watched as all his nieces except for Rose vied for Harriett’s attention. Violet sat on her other side, thrilled about how she’d reacted to the portraits she’d painted of each of them. Rose was caught up in the attentions of her three young gentlemen, but he was afraid Mary would take Harriett’s advice which would make Rose very difficult to live with until she turned eighteen. Of course, Harriett had made a lot of sense. Rose shouldn’t have three suitors over at a time vying for her attention. The girl needed someone to put the reins on her.
Harriett glanced over at Max with a smile. “I think we need to have a house party for your family.” She loved the idea of having all of her new nieces over and getting to know them better.
Max shook his head adamantly. “No way. The last time I had them all over, Lily slid down the bannister and because it had just been polished, it was too slick and she rammed her head into the wall next to the front door. We ended up having to go to the doctor to get four stitches in her head that are, thankfully, hidden by her hair. So no. No more parties with all the nieces.”
Harriett saw Lily flush with embarrassment, glancing over at one of the three boys there dancing attendance on Rose. She gave Max a slight shake of her head to let him know he needed to stop. “I’m sure she’s grown up a great deal since then.” She noticed for the first time then that Lily was in a dress with her hair pulled back stylishly. She must have dressed especially for the boy. “I’ll have them over anyway.” Her eyes met Mary’s. “How would a week from Saturday be?” Harriett couldn’t believe her own voice. She’d never once dreamed of defying Arthur, and yet here she was openly ignoring Max’s wishes. She realized then that she wasn’t afraid of her new husband in any way.
Max stared at her for a moment, surprised by her open defiance. He sighed. “My own wife and she won’t listen to me at all.” He looked at Fred who was sitting at the head of the table, as if commiserating with him.
Mary smiled. “Well, you’re being silly. Of course all the girls can come over on Saturday, Harriett. Do you want Fred and me to come as well or just the girls?” Her eyes seemed to dance at the idea of getting a day with just her husband.
“Why don’t you and Fred take a day for yourselves? The girls and I will be fine together.” Harriett smiled across the table at her new sister-in-law, loving the idea of an afternoon with her new nieces, no matter what Max said. She needed to get out more and meet people and do things. She’d locked herself away for ten years, and that was over starting now.
On their ride home, Harriett brought up a subject that concerned her. “How would you feel if I re-opened my mail order bride business? There are so many men here that need to be matched up with suitable women, and I don’t have a lot to do.”
He looked at her in surprise. “Are you not content as my wife? You need more to do?”
She scooted across the seat until they were touching. “That’s not it at all, Max. I love being married to you. It’s better than I’d dreamed it could possibly be, but I’m used to running a business and staying occupied. Right now, I feel like there’s nothing for me to do but sew curtains and wait for you to come home from work.”
He frowned. “I don’t like the idea of you working. Is there a charity you’d like to be involved with? We have an orphanage. Or you could start your own charity to fund foreign missions. Or maybe you could make clothes for the less fortunate. I just hate the idea of you working, like you didn’t think I could support you.”
Harriett sighed heavily. All of
his ideas would work, but none really appealed to her. She would enjoy working with orphans, but she was so soft-hearted, she’d want to bring every one of them home with her. Foreign missions had never been a passion of hers. She’d think of something, though.
Chapter Seven
Higgins paced the parlor waiting for Mrs. Farmer to get home from her visit with her sister-in-law’s family. He hated it when she was out of the house and he couldn’t protect her, but he realized that her new husband would do a good job taking care of her himself. He’d spent a lot of hours in front of Mildred Anderson’s house, and had seen a bad incident, but nothing life threatening as of yet. He needed her to know that his new project was going well for him.
He sat on the sofa looking down at the curtains she was sewing. He hated that she was reduced to being a wife when she was such an excellent businesswoman. Someone like her should be able to spread her wings and be involved in anything she wanted, not tied to some man’s parlor trying to think of things to keep herself busy. He knew he should just be happy for her, but he resented her husband for expecting her to give up her business to marry him.
He thought back to the first time he’d met her. She’d been just sixteen and there was a bruise on her cheek the size of a man’s hand. He’d known immediately what had happened, because his own daughter had gone through the same thing at the hands of Harriett’s first husband, Arthur.
After his wife’s death, Annabelle had been the only thing he’d had worth living for. She’d been a precocious young five year old and he couldn’t have been prouder of the young lady she was becoming. She’d trusted him with everything inside her, putting her little hand in his. “I love you, Papa. We’ll always be together, won’t we?”
He’d nodded gravely, and hugged her close to him. He’d done everything he could to send her to the best schools. When she was sixteen, she’d accepted a job as a maid in Mr. Long’s house so she could be close to her father. She only worked there a few hours a day after school, but she’d wanted to help with her tuition. He was doing everything he could to send her off to college, because she wanted to be a nurse.
One afternoon Mr. Long had sent him out to do some errands, which wasn’t a surprise. Mr. Long enjoyed bossing people around, and he always made the top level person he had do whatever job he dreamed up, rather than just asking a footman. He was too good to have the footmen run his errands, and instead always went straight to Higgins.
When he’d returned home, Annabelle had rushed to him, a bruise on her cheek and tears coursing down her face. She’d run into his arms like she had when she’d been a small child.
He’d held her close, crushing her to him. “What happened?”
She had just shrugged ,claiming she’d walked into a wall, but by the way she was shaking, he should have known better. He should have looked into it more, but he hadn’t. And it was the beginning of the biggest mistake of his life. He loved his little girl more than anything in the world, and he’d allowed her to be hurt by a monster.
Less than a week later, he’d found Annabelle, lying dead on the ground outside Mr. Long’s window. She’d been beaten all over her body, and her virgin’s blood was on her inner thighs. He’d known in his heart what had happened immediately, but he’d taken the time to ask around.
Everything he was told confirmed his suspicions. His daughter had been raped and beaten by Mr. Long, something he had been doing to the maids of the household for years, but Higgins had been too blind to see. Annabelle hadn’t been able to bear the harsh treatment and had jumped to her death.
He’d thought about killing Mr. Long, but had decided to stay on. He wanted to find proof of the way the man treated women and see him locked up for the rest of his life. Killing him would end his misery too quickly and the man needed to pay for what he’d done to his baby girl.
Less than a month later, Mr. Long had announced he was marrying in just a few short weeks. Higgins had decided then and there he would be the new Mrs. Long’s protector. If he could save just one woman who Mr. Long was hurting, then it would make up, in some small way, for the way he’d let Annabelle down.
He looked up when the door to the parlor opened and Mrs. Farmer stepped into the room. “The maid told me you were here waiting for me. What did you find out?” She walked immediately to the sofa and sat down, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees to listen to him.
Higgins took a deep breath, pulling himself back to the present. “You were exactly right as always. Mrs. Anderson is being beaten by her husband. I saw him hit her with my own eyes, but he wasn’t hurting her enough that I, as a stranger, felt like I could step in. I’ll continue watching the situation.” He’d wanted to step in, though. He’d wanted to break down the door and stop the man from hitting his wife.
Mrs. Farmer nodded once. “Please help her if you can. Maybe approach her when she leaves and become her friend and confidante. She’s going to need someone like you in her life, Higgins. Being hurt by the one who should love you more than all others is a terrible way to live your life.”
Higgins nodded his face sad. “I know.” He looked down at her, examining her with knowing eyes. “Is Mr. Farmer still treating you well?” He worried so much about his employer, because she’d come to mean so much to him.
Harriett’s eyes lit up. “He’s wonderful, but I’m going to have to tell him about my first marriage soon. He’s becoming suspicious of my relationship with you and wondering what’s happened between us.”
“You have my permission to tell him everything you deem necessary.” Higgins knew that his new employer could easily fire him and want him out of his house, but he believed he was a good enough man that he would want him to stay with Harriett once he understood the bond between the two of them.
Mrs. Farmer laid her hand on his forearm. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have told him your part in it without your permission.”
He smiled slightly, still sad from what he’d seen that evening and the memories it had brought back to him. “I know you wouldn’t, and that’s why you have my utmost trust, loyalty and devotion.” He patted the hand resting on his arm.
She smiled up at him. “And why you have mine as well.” She turned to leave the room, “Max will wonder why I’ve spent all this time with you again. I’ve told him repeatedly you’re like a father to me, but he is still having a hard time understanding.”
Higgins nodded briefly. “Of course he is. And he should. Our relationship would seem odd to anyone who hadn’t lived through our lives with us. It would appear very strange.” On one hand he understood exactly what Mr. Farmer’s problem was with their relationship. On the other hand, he wished the man would simply be more understanding about his relationship with Harriett.
“Thank you for accepting that I need to tell him the whole truth.”
“Of course. It’s your truth to tell and one a man who has taken you as his wife needs to understand to truly be able to understand you.” Higgins watched her go a slight frown on his face. As much as he knew Mr. Farmer needed to hear the story, he hated that she would have to bear her soul to tell him. She was a beautiful woman, inside and out, and she needed to always be treated as such.
He waited in the parlor for her to come back if she needed him, knowing automatically that she would understand he would wait for her. The bond between them was so strong, they always knew how to help one another without being told.
*****
Max walked past the closed parlor door again, becoming more irritated by the minute. As soon as they’d arrived home from his sister’s house, one of the maids had told Harriett that Higgins was waiting for her in her parlor. Max had looked at his wife and been stunned when she’d hurriedly limped off to talk to the butler without saying a word to him. They’d been in there for over forty-five minutes talking about something.
What was between them that she would simply rush off whenever the man wanted to speak with her? Was he blackmailing her somehow? He wanted to pound his head again
st a wall, he was so frustrated with her hiding things from him.
He didn’t think that could possibly be the case, because Harriett obviously held the man in very high regard. She wouldn’t feel that way if he was blackmailing her. What was it then?
He heard a door close and turned to see Harriett walking toward him. He was simply sitting on the stairs watching for her to emerge. She walked to him and looked at him sitting on the stairs, the anger firing in his eyes. She held her hand out to him, and whispered, “Let’s talk.”
Max stood, understanding he would finally know something about what was going on. At least he hoped he would. He couldn’t go on this way. He was ready to tell her she had to fire Higgins just to get the man out of his house. He was tired of the secrets and pretenses.
He took her hand and walked with her toward his study, because he knew it would be empty, and they’d never been able to talk in the bedroom. They both wanted to fall into bed as soon as they entered the room. They couldn’t do that tonight.
*****
Harriett followed Max into his office and sat down in the chair across from his desk. She thought about sitting beside him on the sofa, but for the conversation she needed to have with him, she needed some distance. It was going to be hard enough to get through without him trying to soothe her as she talked. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to get all the words out if he started touching her.
When Max had taken his chair across from her, she sat silently for a moment, not sure how to start the conversation she needed to have with him. How did you tell your husband that your previous husband was an evil man?
Max waited for a moment, and finally said, “I hope what you want to tell me is what’s between you and Higgins. I can’t stand the secrecy any longer.”
Harriett nodded slowly. “It’s a long story and hard for me to talk about. I’ve never told it to anyone. I hope you can be patient with me.” She rubbed her damp palms on the skirt of her dress, trying to get up the courage to say what needed to be said.
Mail Order Match Maker Page 8
