by Kit Morgan
Libby gasped at that. “Did you get a proposal? Are you leaving us?!”
“Read the letter,” Bonnie murmured.
Libby read it and looked up and her sister, confused. "But this letter is looking for three women, not one."
Bonnie nodded. “I was going to talk to a couple of other unattached friends my age but… Libby, we need to leave town as soon as possible. Did you see the look in Papa’s eyes? He’s really going to marry us off, and I suspect it’s to that trio of creepy old deacons from church he’s been speaking with every Sunday. I couldn’t stand that humiliation.
"No! Not them! He wouldn’t dare! I’m only eighteen! Mother wouldn’t let him.”
“Didn’t you hear her? She won’t protect you and Gwen anymore, Libby. I know that’s hard to hear since she’s spoiled you two so much, but I can tell you from experience, that when she gives up on you, it’s forever.”
Libby had a pained look on her face as if she was trying to figure out a puzzle. Bonnie knew to just wait. Sometimes it took her beautiful sister a little bit longer to catch on, but she always did…eventually.
“So instead of marrying those old lechers, we run away to Texas and marry strangers?”
“At least they’re young strangers, Libby. We can start completely from scratch without anyone knowing about this ridiculous scandal. Even if Papa doesn’t force us to marry his friends, no one else will want us for a very long time, if ever.”
Libby gave Bonnie a sly look. “Do we have to take Gwen?”
Bonnie smiled. “She may be annoying, but she’s our sister. She probably needs this more than either of us. Let’s rescue her from herself, Libby. What do you say?”
After a moment Libby nodded. "Let's make it happen."
One
Beckham, Massachusetts, October 1888
“Thank you, Mrs. Jamison! Thank you very much!” Libby Blue called over her shoulder as she left the dressmaker's shop. When she reached the street, she counted the coins in her hand before putting them in her reticule. When added to the rest of the money she’d collected over the last couple of weeks, there'd be quite the sum.
“Ten dollars,” she whispered. A small fortune to be sure, at least to Libby, but would it be enough? Her older sister, Bonnie, put Libby in charge of gathering the funds they would need for her plan to work. A plan to keep Libby, and her two older sisters, from marrying three men their father chose for them in his haste to remedy a scandal brought on by Gwen. Unfortunately, his choices were elderly, pompous deacons of the church, and, unbeknownst to him, greedy and lecherous. This didn't set well with Libby or her sisters, and Bonnie, the oldest, quickly came up with a way to remedy the situation.
After a harrowing half-hour with their mother, Bonnie ushered Libby upstairs to their room and closed the door. She got something out of her dresser drawer and sat down on the bed. Once Libby was sitting in front of her, she handed her a letter. Libby recalled the conversation almost word for word. She remembered looking at the letter and asking,
“What is this?’
“Libby, we both know I've no future in Beckham,” Bonnie said. “Next to you and Gwen, I'm the ugly duckling. Goodness, everyone calls me 'Scrawny Bonnie' behind my back; don't pretend they don't. I've not a single suitor, while you both have had plenty of men interested in you – and I'm the oldest! I'm twenty-three and an old maid.”
Libby started to protest, but Bonnie interrupted her. “I've come to terms with it, Libby. But that doesn't mean I don't want to marry. Unlike you and Gwen, though, I don't subscribe to the fantasy that I will only marry for love. A business arrangement would suit me just fine, so I spoke to Elizabeth Miller, the lady who runs the mail-order bride agency.”
Libby gasped at that. “Did you get a proposal? Are you leaving us?!”
“Read the letter,” Bonnie murmured as she indicated the missive.
Libby read it and then stared at her. “But this letter is looking for three women, not one.”
Bonnie nodded. “I was going to talk to a couple of other unattached friends my age but... Libby, we need to leave town as soon as possible. Did you see the look in Papa's eyes? He's going to marry us off, and I suspect it's to that trio of creepy old deacons from church he's been speaking with every Sunday. I couldn't stand that kind of humiliation.”
“No! Not them! He wouldn't dare! I'm only eighteen! Mother wouldn't let him!”
“Didn't you listen? She won't protect you and Gwen anymore, Libby. I know this is hard to hear since she spoiled you two so much, but I can tell you from experience that, when she gives up on you, it's forever.”
Libby tried to grasp what Bonnie was saying. Against her will, her father was going to marry off not only Gwen, but Bonnie and Libby to the worst of men to keep a scandal at bay. “So, instead of marrying those old lechers, we run away to Texas and marry strangers?” she asked.
“At least they're young strangers, Libby. We can start from scratch without anyone knowing about this ridiculous scandal. Even if Papa doesn't force us to marry his friends, no one else will want us for a very long time, if ever.”
Self-preservation hit, and forced Libby to ask, “Do we have to take Gwen?”
Bonnie smiled. “She may be annoying, but she's our sister. She needs this more than either of us. Let's rescue her from herself, Libby. What do you say?”
Gwen would have her pick of the men, which rankled. Libby would get second best;
unless they were intellects, and then she'd get last. But which did she prefer? To be married to a man three times her age? Or a younger man who wanted a wife to start a life with? She stared at Bonnie. There was only one answer she could give. Escape was their only option. “Let's make it happen.”
Libby smiled at the recollection, clutched her reticule to her chest, and hurried down the street. If she made more deliveries for Mr. Pomeroy at the bakery, he might give her the same amount of money Mrs. Jamison did this past week. If she’d been thinking, she’d have asked Bonnie how much they’d need for the upcoming journey, but was so intent on the task itself that the thought slipped her mind. Pleasing Bonnie mattered to her, and her sister would be happy with the amount Libby had collected. Her eldest sister’s plan must work! If not, they'd be doomed to a life of... well, to be truthful, Libby wasn't sure what their lives would be like married to three old deacons. But she did know it wouldn't be pleasant. No, not pleasant at all.
The screams and wails of protest coming from Gwen’s room were proof enough. Her father locked the poor girl upstairs after the scandal broke, and refused to let her out except to use the water closet. Now Gwen didn't even come out to do that. She started using a chamber pot instead. But what convinced Libby their circumstances were indeed dire was every time Bonnie talked about them, her face went pale with a hollow look, soon followed by a flash of anger in her eyes. Libby didn't blame her, not one bit. What right did their father have to marry them off to such hideous men?
But was Bonnie's plan any better?
Yes, they would escape their father's arranged marriages, but was marrying complete strangers the right way to do it? Did Bonnie even think when she set this up? But Libby learned long ago to listen to her sister, even though half the time, Bonnie didn't think she did. At this point, Libby thought Bonnie was smarter than their father. At least her eldest sister cared about her and Gwen. If their father cared even half as much as Bonnie, he wouldn't be marrying them off in the first place. His reputation was more important to him than his three daughters, and it hurt. Libby was glad she and her sisters were leaving Beckham to marry men of their choosing, and not their father's.
“Well, hello, Miss. Libby,” called a familiar voice.
Libby turned and saw her brother Percy's friend, Samuel, approaching her at a rapid pace. What did he want? “Hello,” she said as he reached her.
“Have you seen Percy?”
“He was home when I left.”
Samuel glanced across the street. “What are you doing about town, and
unescorted?”
“Running some errands. Now, if you don't mind, I'd best be on my way.” She turned to leave.
He grabbed her arm. “How's your sister?” he asked with a grin.
“Which one?” But she knew he spoke of Gwen.
“Word is your father locked her in her room for a year.”
“I think your hearing is off. Who locks a girl in her room for a year?”
“Your pa, that's who.”
“You leave my father out of this. He... did what he thought was best... and besides, it wasn't Gwen's fault.”
“Wasn't it?” he asked with a leer. “She did more than kiss Stanley.”
“Who told you that? Anne Landry, I suppose.”
“Your brother, Percy, if you must know.”
Libby's mouth dropped open. “That's a lie!”
“And to think you kissed Stanley, too.” He glanced around again, and took a step closer. “You can kiss me if you want, in the back alley behind the bank.”
Libby gasped as her hand came up to slap him. He grabbed her wrist and held it fast as his eyes raked her over a second time. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He released her wrist, turned on his boot-heel, and walked away. Several townspeople stared at her and shook their heads, while making tsk, tsk sounds.
Libby swallowed hard in an effort to ignore them, clutched her reticule with both hands, and ran all the way to Pomeroy’s Bakery.
Once inside, she peered out the windows to make sure Samuel hadn’t followed her.
“What are you looking at, Miss Blue?”
Libby spun around. “Oh, Mr. Pomeroy... ah, nothing.” She came away from the window and crossed the room to the counter. “I happened to be passing by, and wondered if you would like anything delivered this afternoon.”
“Does your pa know you're making deliveries for me?”
“He won't mind,” Libby said with a shy smile. “Father always says busy girls are better girls.”
Mr. Pomeroy raised an inquisitive brow. “Yes, well, according to the local gossip mongers, your older sister's been busy indeed.”
Libby fought against a groan. If one more person brought Gwen's supposed indiscretion up again... she thought she might scream! “I can assure you, sir, Gwen didn't do anything this time.”
“Exactly. This time. She's done enough beforehand; no one believes her on this one. I hope you and your other sister learn by her mistakes.”
“Gwen can't help it if she's beautiful, Mr. Pomeroy. All the boys flock to her; they always have.”
“Yes, but she shouldn't take advantage of a man's admiration the way she does. It's going to get her nothing but trouble, and now it has.”
“But, Mr. Pomeroy...”
“Don't try to defend her, just live and learn.” He reached behind him and grabbed a small, wrapped cake box. “I need this delivered to the Thompsons, if you don't mind.”
Libby's eyes lit up “Right away, sir,” she said as she took the cake box from him.
“When you get back, I'll see if there's anything else for you to do, then it's straight home, or you'll be late for supper.”
“Don't worry, Mr. Pomeroy. I'll hurry right back!” Libby left the bakery, a smile on her face. In a few days there'd be enough money to fund Bonnie's escape plan. If lucky, she'd be able to make this delivery without being stopped by some naysayer, determined to rub Gwen's discretions in her face. After this latest escapade, Libby didn't feel like trying to live up to her sister's beauty anymore. This time it caused Gwen nothing but trouble, and got her locked in her room to boot.
For as long as she could remember, Libby had lived in the shadow of her two sisters. She'd spent day after day trying to reach the same lofty heights they achieved. Gwen was the most beautiful of the three, the most beautiful in school and, if Libby thought about it, the most beautiful girl in Beckham. Too bad she was also one of the most annoying.
Where Gwen had beauty, Bonnie had brains. If someone could mold Gwen and Bonnie into the same person, they'd create someone downright dangerous. Libby wanted to be that person, and so, day in and day out, she tried to make herself beautiful like Gwen and smart like Bonnie. In secret, she read books from their father's small library in order to raise her intellect. So far all it had raised was her vocabulary, not to mention improved her spelling. But knowing a few fancy words couldn’t help Libby measure up to her sisters’ glorified status on either count. If reading Shakespeare's sonnets made Libby smarter, then she would've come up with a plan to save them from marrying three lecherous old men.
Nor did her attempts at beautifying herself land her a husband or more admirers. Her ardent admirers stayed only until they saw Gwen, and any further admiration for Libby was over. Bonnie's plan of escape appealed because, if Gwen were to marry, men wouldn't flock around her all the time. And if Bonnie married, she wouldn't be so worried about the men flocked around Gwen all the time. This, of course, meant Libby could stop trying to be like her sisters in order to catch a husband. Instead, via Bonnie's plan, she'd not only land a husband, but he wouldn't be a wrinkled old sour-puss who licked his lips every time he saw her.
Besides, with all the taunts Libby received while doing deliveries for Mr. Pomeroy and Mrs. Jamison, she was glad to leave Beckham. She'd get a fresh start in a new town, where no one compared her to Gwen and Bonnie. No longer would she listen to things like: “too bad your dress doesn’t fit you as good as it does Gwen.” Or, “why can't you be more like Bonnie and think for a change?”
But Bonnie's magnificent mind failed to catch her a husband, so Libby tried harder to be more like Gwen. However, whereas being beautiful came easy to Gwen–simply because she was–it wasn't so easy for Libby. She fussed with her hair throughout the day, pinched her cheeks to keep them rosy, and did what she could to make her lips more appealing to the opposite sex. In the early stages of her sister's bedroom incarceration, Libby even wished that she’d caused the scandal instead of Gwen. But no, Gwen beat her to it.
Her life was quite pathetic when she thought on it, and so she tried not to.
She dropped off the cake Mr. Pomeroy gave her, returned to the bakery, collected more money, and made another delivery before she went home. When she got to the house, Samuel, who’d insulted her in the street earlier, was just leaving.
“And here she is now,” he drawled as she came up the walk. Percival, the youngest of Libby’s three brothers, stood behind him, glaring at her. Samuel noted his scowl, and smiled. “Old man Jackson is sure lucky to be marrying your sister.”
Percy ignored his comment, and instead shoved him out of the way. “Where have you been? It's bad enough the whole family comes off bad because of Gwen, but now you and Bonnie are out running around town half the day.”
“I was not ‘running around’ I had errands to do,” said Libby as she made to push past him.
Percy grabbed one arm as Samuel grabbed the other. “Mother isn't happy you've been out,” he informed her.
“She was doing errands, Percy,” Samuel said in her defense. “I know because I ran into her while looking for you.”
Libby wrenched her arm out of Percy's grip, and tried to do the same with Samuel. Like before, he wouldn't let go. She grimaced. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” he said and leered at her.
Percy's eyes narrowed. “Take your hand off my sister.”
Samuel laughed. “What do you care? One's as good as the other.”
Percy grabbed Libby's arm and pulled her out of Samuel's grip. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Come on now, Percy; I'm sure your little sister wouldn't mind taking a stroll with me. Gwen sure didn't.”
“Gwen never took a stroll with you,” Percy hissed.
“No, but she did with Stanley. But never mind Gwen; she's not for me. I'd rather take Libby, here.”
Percy shoved Libby into the house with one arm as he pulled back the other. The blow he delivered Samuel made a sickening crunch, and L
ibby yelped in surprise as her brother's friend dropped like a stone. “No one talks about my sisters like that!”
Samuel groaned as he pushed himself up on his elbows and shook his head. “What did ya do that for? Especially after all your talk about Gwen being an idiot for what she did with Stanley!”
“My sister's an idiot for letting people think she did what she didn't do!”
“What?” Samuel asked, confused, as he rubbed his jaw and struggled to his feet.
“Oh, never mind!” said Percy as he balled his hand into a fist again. “Just get out of here and leave my sister alone.”
“Fine!” Samuel spat. “Some friend you are!” He turned on his heel and stomped down the front walk.
Percy let go a weary sigh as he watched him slam the gate and disappear down the street. He turned to Libby. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said in a weak voice. “I guess so.”
Percy shook his head, put his hands on his hips, and glared at her again. “If only Gwen hadn't... I mean, if you had any sense at all... and what are we going to do about Bonnie?!” he groaned and threw his hands in the air. “I'll be glad when this is all over!” He pushed past her and headed for the staircase, muttering the whole time.
Libby peered down the walk. Samuel was nowhere to be seen. She stared at the staircase in the hall. Percy had vanished as well. Closing the door, she smoothed the skirt of her dress, held her head high, and went up the stairs to her room to hide the money she’d made.
Upstairs, she stopped at her room and peeked inside. Empty. Percy hadn't been kidding when he said Bonnie was gone, too. But where had she gone? Libby turned and gazed across the hall at the door to Gwen's room. By now, she was used to seeing it shut and locked, and no longer cringed at the sight. She even missed Gwen yelling at her for barging into her room unannounced like she always did. Now no one but their mother went into Gwen's room, and lately it was to dump the chamber pot. What could Gwen be doing in there all this time? Did she even want to leave it? Maybe their mother wasn't letting Gwen use the water closet any more as a form of punishment. Libby gasped at the thought and went into her room.
