Love is Come (Power of the Matchmaker)

by Heather B. Moore

  “I’m so happy for you,” his mother said, coming up and kissing him on the cheek. “Now, I don’t have to worry about you anymore.”

  “You were worried about me?” he asked, half jesting, half in surprise.

  “You know what I mean…a man needs a wife.”

  Just then, Nelle stepped into the room, coming in from the gardens. She hadn’t been there to hear his proposal, for she’d told Mathew she didn’t know whether she could hold back her tears at such a moment. But as Alice’s cousin, Nelle had to congratulate her.

  As she walked toward them, she didn’t meet his eyes. But Mathew could tell she’d been crying by the subtle reddening below her eyes. If one weren’t looking for it, he assured himself, it wouldn’t be noticeable. His heart swelled and ached at the same time. Swelling because of the intimate kisses he’d shared with Nelle and the knowledge that she cared for him too, aching because they would have to live forever separated.

  Nelle reached Alice’s side and congratulated them both, still without looking at Mathew. The smile on her face seemed too bright, and Mathew wished he could take Nelle into his arms again and kiss away the sorrow beneath that smile.

  She was speaking to him. “I wish you both all the best.” Her gaze flitted to his. In that split moment, a volume of words seemed to pass between them.

  I’m sorry.

  I love you.

  Good-bye.

  As Nelle moved back into the crowd, Mathew felt as if his heart had turned into a hollow space inside his chest, a space that was already starting to be filled with loneliness, the likes of which Mathew had never imagined he could feel.

  Then cadence of gasps rose through the crowd, and Alice grabbed Mathew’s arm.

  “Your mother,” Alice said. “She’s fainted.”

  Mathew pushed his way through the gathering, Alice close behind him. His mother was being helped to a white sofa, her face the same ivory color as it, her hands trembling.

  “Mathew,” she said, and he was at her side immediately, taking her hand.

  For the first time in months, since when she’d originally claimed illness, Mathew felt truly worried. “What is it, Mother? What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know,” she said in a faint voice. “My head started to hurt. Next thing I knew, I was on the floor.”

  He placed a hand on her forehead. Her skin felt warm, but not hot. He was eventually aware of the other people surrounding him—Alice and Nelle. Then someone said something about sending for the doctor.

  “I’ll get you home right away,” Mathew told his mother.

  “I’ll come with you,” Alice said, kneeling next to Mathew and grasping his mother’s hand. “She must be overtired.”

  “So much excitement,” his mother said in a soft voice, trying to smile.

  Mathew looked up into the crowd that had gathered. “Bring around the carriage,” he told them.

  “I will,” Patrick offered and hurried out of the room.

  Mathew picked up his mother, even though she protested. The crowd parted, making way for him to carry her out of the room, across the foyer, and to the front door. Alice seemed glued to his side. As he turned to maneuver his mother through the front door, he caught a glimpse of Nelle. She stood in the doorway of the foyer, her expression forlorn, as if she wished she were the one rushing out into the night to help him with his mother.

  Mathew held her gaze for mere seconds, but he hoped she understood…he wished the same thing. But they were like two people that would be forever standing on the opposite ends of a snowglobe—each unable to move from their glued positions.

  Mathew turned away as Patrick brought the carriage around. Then Mathew stepped across the porch and settled his mother into the carriage. With her as comfortable as could be expected, he turned to thank Patrick. Mrs. Greenwood and Lucien also stood nearby, offering their sympathies. Alice climbed into the carriage with his mother, and Mathew settled in up front to drive the horses.

  By the time they reached home, the doctor was waiting. He helped Mathew transport his mother into the house and up the flight of stairs to her bedroom. Once she was nestled beneath the covers, Mathew stood back so the doctor could perform his examination.

  He listened to her heart for a while. “Her pulse is strong, and her color has returned.” He gave an encouraging smile to Mrs. Janson. “I prescribe plenty of rest.”

  Alice came into the room with a cup of tea. She crossed to the bed and handed it to Mathew’s mother.

  “I’ll check on her again in the morning,” the doctor said, his gaze on Mathew. “Walk me out?”

  Mathew felt his pulse quicken, for this was an unusual request from the doctor. Mathew walked with the doctor out into the hallway and down the stairs.

  At the base of the stairs, the doctor stopped and said, “Your mother has an irregular heartbeat, one that I didn’t hear when I checked on her last month. Has she been lethargic lately?”

  Mathew exhaled. “She’s stayed home a lot, and she naps in the afternoons, but I haven’t noticed anything major amiss.”

  “It can come on slowly or suddenly,” the doctor said.

  “What do you mean? Is this serious?”

  The doctor hesitated, looking past Mathew for a moment. The doctor met his gaze again. “I’m afraid your mother has a weakening heart. There isn’t a cure, and it will get worse over time. My best advice is for her to not extend herself in anyway. She won’t be a full invalid for a while yet, but there is a risk of heart failure should she do too much or become overly excited.”

  The doctor’s words echoed inside Mathew’s head, turning and twisting. His mother wasn’t an invalid…yet?

  “I heard you became engaged tonight,” the doctor added in a conversational tone.

  “Yes,” Mathew said, his thoughts far away.

  “Perhaps the excitement was too much for her,” the doctor said. “Does she approve of the match?”

  “She does,” Mathew said. “And my mother knew I was going to propose. Like I said, she hasn’t been out for a while, and tonight was a big event.”

  The doctor clapped Mathew on the shoulder. “I’ll return tomorrow. I didn’t want to say anything too discouraging to your mother. The higher her spirits are kept, the better.”

  Mathew walked the doctor to the front door and thanked him again. When he had shut the door and started up the stairs, Mathew realized he was also exhausted. Thinking about how his mother’s heart was failing and remembering his last glance at Nelle’s expression, Mathew felt as if his heart were failing too.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The next couple of days crawled by for Nelle, and the news from the Janson home remained unchanged. Mrs. Janson was still in bed. Although her appetite had increased, little progress had been made.

  Today, Alice filled Nelle in with all the details over the morning meal. “Mathew thinks if you come and play the piano for her, it will lift her spirits.” Alice took a sip of her juice, narrowing her eyes slightly. “But she can’t even make it down the stairs to the parlor, so I told Mathew that didn’t make any sense.”

  “What has the doctor said?” Nelle asked, still wondering what Mrs. Janson’s official diagnosis was after all this time.

  “He tells her to get plenty of rest,” Alice said, scrunching up her nose. “I think she enjoys all of the extra attention, so why not continue to milk it?”

  “Alice!” Aunt Corinne came into the dining room. “She will be your mother-in-law soon.”

  Alice shrugged. “Not exactly soon, Mother. Mathew wants to wait to marry until after Christmas now. He says he wants his mother fully recovered.” Alice made a soft scoffing sound. “If she’d only make an effort, then she’d get better faster.”

  Nelle pushed the scrambled eggs around on her plate, thinking. Mrs. Janson hadn’t gotten any better or any worse, it seemed. What’s really wrong with her? Nelle wondered as she tuned out the conversation between Alice and her mother.

  Nelle felt grateful that
she hadn’t been summoned to play the piano for Mrs. Janson. With the engagement, not to mention the stolen kisses with Mathew, Nelle didn’t know whether she could handle being around him. He was, surely, spending a lot of time at home now, with his mother being indisposed.

  What if it was true that Nelle’s playing the piano for her would lift Mrs. Janson’s spirits? The weeks Nelle had spent with Mrs. Janson had been pleasant. It made Nelle feel selfish not to want to return to the house and do whatever she could for her.

  Don’t I have a right to protect my own heart, though? Perhaps, if her aunt or Alice went with her to the Jansons, Nelle would be able to keep her feelings hidden.

  “If she leaves her bedroom door open,” Nelle heard herself say, “maybe she can hear the piano music from the parlor.” Nelle could hardly believe she was making this suggestion. “I can go over the next time you do, Alice.” In truth, Nelle was worried about Mrs. Janson, so if there was something she could do to help, she should do it.

  “That would be wonderful,” her aunt said.

  It was settled.

  That afternoon, Nelle walked over with Alice to the Jansons’ home. As usual, Alice prattled on about the latest fashions and how she wished there was a more modern dress shop in town.

  Nelle could barely focus on what Alice was saying. She was thinking about what would happen to her heart when she saw Mathew again. She took measured breaths as they grew closer to the Jansons’ home.

  Mathew answered the door as if he’d been hovering inside. There was no time for Nelle to react. He and Alice started speaking. Don’t look him in the eyes, or you’ll become undone. This was all Nelle could tell herself. His deep voice was painfully familiar, pushing its way inside her mind and filling her with thoughts she’d been trying to forget.

  “Come, Nelle,” Alice said, grasping her arm. “Let’s say hello to Mathew’s mother first, then you can play for a bit.”

  Nelle followed Alice dutifully, and, to do so, she had to walk past Mathew. She felt his gaze on her as she moved by him and started up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, she finally allowed herself a quick glance in his direction.

  He stood near the bottom of the stairs, sorting through letters on a side table. Nelle caught a glimpse of his profile, but nothing more. She bit her lip and stifled a sigh as she drew her gaze away. She followed Alice along the corridor, until they reached Mrs. Janson’s bedroom.

  A nurse opened her door and motioned for them to come inside, saying, “She’s awake.”

  As Nelle stepped into the dim room, she felt surprised that the drapes were closed in the middle of the day. The woman in the bed looked thinner than Nelle remembered. Dark circles were beneath her eyes, and her skin looked pale and almost translucent.

  “Alice, how nice to see you,” Mrs. Janson said in a faint voice. When she noticed Nelle, she smiled. “Nelle, what a surprise.”

  “She’s come to play for you,” Alice said in a too-loud voice as if Mrs. Janson were hard of hearing. “Can you make it down to the parlor? Or should we leave your door open?”

  “I—I don’t know,” Mrs. Janson said, lifting her head as if she was trying to sit up in bed. She breathed out a shaky sigh.

  Nelle hurried to her side and grasped her hand. “Stay here. I’ll play loudly, and you can relax and enjoy some music.”

  Mrs. Janson gave her a grateful smile. Nelle released her hand. Alice also left the bedroom, seeming more interested in finding Mathew and speaking with him. Nelle settled herself at the piano and started playing, trying not to think about where Alice or Mathew might be. She played for over an hour and only took a break when she heard voices coming from the foyer, Alice’s voice ringing out clearly.

  “Then who will take me?” Alice demanded. “My mother can’t be bothered, and Nelle is too melancholy. She hardly listens to a thing I say.”

  Slowly, Nelle began to play again, blinking back tears of hurt and hoping Alice hadn’t noticed the pause in the music. Nelle knew she'd been melancholy. Spending time with Mathew had helped, but now, that was at an end. As she continued to play, she thought of the memories she’d been writing down and knew this was helping too. But she still felt very far removed from worrying about the more trivial things in life such as the new styles of skirts or the latest hat fashions.

  When Nelle could no longer hear their voices, she stopped playing and rose from the piano bench. She ventured into the foyer and, finding it empty, started up the staircase. When she reached Mrs. Janson’s bedroom, Nelle was surprised to see it empty save for Mrs. Janson, lying in her bed. Perhaps the nurse went to fetch something.

  “Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Janson said upon seeing Nelle. “That was quite lovely.”

  “Did you hear the music all right?” Nelle asked, crossing to the woman’s bedside. She took Mrs. Janson’s papery hand in hers. “What did the doctor say about your diagnosis?”

  “No one is telling me anything,” Mrs. Janson said. “Just rest, they say. So that’s what I’ve been doing.”

  “That may be all you can do,” Nelle said, although she was bristling inside. Why wouldn’t anyone tell Mrs. Janson what was truly wrong? Did that mean the news was terrible?

  Nelle released Mrs. Janson’s hand and crossed to the windows. “Would you like more light?”

  “The doctor says it will tire my eyes.”

  Nelle pulled back the drapes. “If your eyes grow tired, I’ll close the drapes again.”

  Mrs. Janson nodded, watching Nelle’s movements. With the drapes open, the room lost its dimness, and Nelle saw that the yellows and blues of the room were quite cheery.

  “Now,” she said, “would you like me to read to you?”

  “That would certainly be a treat,” Mrs. Janson said. “Mathew doesn’t have the patience for that sort of thing, and the nurse has a horrible masculine voice,” she concluded in a whisper.

  Nelle laughed. “I’ll keep that between us.” She crossed to a narrow bookshelf that contained leather-bound books. “Any preferences?”

  “One of the poetry books, please,” Mrs. Janson said, “something Mathew wouldn’t be caught dead reading aloud.”

  Since Nelle’s back was turned to Mrs. Janson, Nelle allowed herself a smile. Alice was as obsessed with poetry as Mathew was with staying away from it. Nelle remembered the way he’d gazed at her when Alice was reading the birthday poem at the Greenwoods’. Those words had spoken to her in ways she wasn’t ready to admit, and Nelle knew they’d spoken to Mathew as well.

  It was over now, so there was no use dwelling on what may or may not have happened between she and Mathew. Her fingers traced their way across the volumes, until she decided to pull out one by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

  “How about Browning?” Nelle asked, slipping the book off the shelf and turning.

  “Wonderful,” Mrs. Janson said. Her eyes had brightened some in the few moments since Nelle had opened the drapes, and her cheeks had a hint of pink on them now.

  As she settled into the chair closest to Mrs. Janson’s bed, Nelle realized she also felt her best when she was doing something kind for someone else, for she was then able to temporarily forget her own sorrows. Pearl’s words came to her mind. Do not think so much on the sorrows of your heart. The less you dwell on the hard things, more room will be left in your heart to fill with good things. And Nelle realized now that she couldn’t agree more.

  She started reading the poems, letting the words flow through her, and enjoyed the chance to make a difference in Mrs. Janson’s life. Nelle knew she would miss the woman when she returned to the city.

  While reading, she felt, rather than heard, another person step into the room. Mathew. On the edge of her vision, Nelle saw him lean against the doorframe, his arms folded. His mother must not have noticed him yet because she didn’t say anything.

  Nelle continued to read, keeping her gaze firmly on the book of poetry. When she came to the end of the current poem, she turned the page and glanced up at Mrs. Janson. The woman�
�s eyes were now closed, and there was a half-smile on her face.

  “She’s asleep,” Mathew said in a quiet voice, “like a contented child.”

  Nelle felt her cheeks flush, and she willed her skin to cool before she would look at Mathew. The top button of his shirt was undone, and his sleeves were rolled up. She couldn’t help but notice his tanned and muscled forearms and the way his hair had an unruly look to it.

  Then a horrible thought assailed her. What if it had been Alice who’d made his hair so unruly? Her cheeks heated even more. “Where’s Alice? Is she ready to go?” Nelle kept her voice equally quiet so as to not wake up Mrs. Janson.

  “She’s already left,” he said, “and wants you to tell her mother that she’s taken the carriage into town.” He paused. “I can give you a ride back.”

  The first thing that crossed Nelle’s mind was that she would be walking home after all, and the second thing was that Mathew was staring at her too intently. Memories of how it had felt to be held in his arms and kissed by his mouth sent shards of heat through Nelle’s body.

  “No, thank you,” she said. “I’m looking forward to the walk.” She rose and replaced the poetry volume, hoping Mathew hadn’t noticed her blushing cheeks or her trembling hands. “I’ll be off then; give your mother my best.”

  Mathew stood aside as she crossed over the threshold of the bedroom door. Then she stopped and turned to find Mathew’s gaze on her.

  “What is wrong with your mother?” she whispered. Uncertainty flashed in his eyes. “Is it serious?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he finally said. He stepped out of the room and led the way to the top of the stairs. Turning to face her, he said, “Her heart is failing. The doctor doesn’t know how long she’ll live but says she’s to rest and not have any upsets.”

  This information slammed through Nelle, and her eyes stung with sudden tears. “Oh,” she managed to say but couldn’t speak more for another moment. What could she say?