“That’s all?”
“That’s all. My word of honor—for whatever that might be worth to you.”
She vigorously rinsed the sheet.
“Maria,” he said. “Will you let go of the washing long enough to tell me if I’m a betrothed man?”
She stopped dunking the sheet and looked at him. It took a great deal of effort on her part to look into his eyes. The mere act of doing so altered her decision one more time.
“Yes,” she said quietly.
“Yes what?” he asked.
“Yes, I will let go of the washing. Yes, you are a betrothed man—if the offer still stands.”
He didn’t say anything, and he was quiet so long that she reached again for the sheet. He caught her hand, not minding the wetness or the lye soap. He wasn’t holding her fast. She could get loose if she wanted, but she made no attempt to pull free.
“Good,” he said. “And you give me your word that you will do all you can to make this marriage a success.”
“If I have yours in return,” she said.
“Good,” he said again. “You do. Perkins!” he suddenly yelled.
Perkins came out of the kitchen on the run, and Max let go of her wet hand to search his pockets. He finally brought out a slip of paper and a small stub of a pencil.
“Turn around,” he said to the sergeant major, and he used the man’s back to bear on while he scribbled something down.
“Have them send this telegram right away,” he said.
“Yes, Sir!”
“I’ll go see your father now,” Max said to her. “Alone. I want this all to be done right. People will be watching, and I don’t want to set a foot wrong anywhere in the process. I’ll come get you when I’m done and we’ll talk.”
“‘We?’” Maria asked, because there didn’t seem to be much “we” to this, thus far.
“We,” he assured her. “We’ll have to decide what is to be done with—” he said as he walked away, giving her no chance to approve or disapprove the plan thus far.
“What?” Maria called after him, because she didn’t hear all he said.
But he kept going, disappearing into the kitchen without a backward glance.
He stayed gone a long time. Maria tried to concentrate on the wash. She didn’t dare let her mind engage in any second thoughts. It was done. Max Woodard knew her situation. He’d asked to marry her. She’d given her word. No emotional attachments to be found anywhere she looked.
And that was that.
She saw several soldiers arrive and go into the house through the front door. And Mrs. Russell.
Heaven help them if they cross her path, Maria thought.
She finally finished the washing, and she began carrying the water from the iron pot to the garden, bucket by bucket. She diligently used the last of the soapy water in the wooden tub to sprinkle down the bean plants to keep the beetles off. Her back hurt, and she was hungry. She hadn’t felt sick in the morning for several days now, and it occurred to her that that heretofore regular event must have been what Max recognized as a symptom of her condition. If he’d arrived here to assume his post this week instead of when he did, he would never have guessed.
And she wouldn’t be engaged to be married.
Engaged.
What have you done, Maria Rose?
The only thing she could do, given the circumstances. In spite of her brothers. In spite of Billy.
Oh, Billy. Look what I’ve come to.
She gave a quiet sigh. Her sudden prospect of marriage left her feeling no less abandoned than the day William Canfield left.
Max had been with her father a long time now. She stood at the edge of the garden, wondering if the news of her impending marriage would have time to reach Texas before it was a done deed.
No, she thought immediately. And it wouldn’t matter if it did. The only Canfields in her life now would be Joe and Jake.
When the last of the soapy water was distributed, she turned the wooden tub over to drain and walked toward the house. Mrs. Russell came out of the back door to get the crock of butter that was kept down the well.
“Have you seen Colonel Woodard?” Maria asked her.
“I have—but that will soon be rectified.”
“I…don’t understand.”
“Rejoice, Maria! Rejoice! The man is moving out.”
“He’s what?”
“He’s leaving. Isn’t it wonderful? You and your father shall have your home all to yourselves again.”
Maria hurried into the house and headed for the back stairs. But she heard a commotion in the front of the house and went in that direction instead. Two soldiers were carrying Max’s trunk down the stairs.
She stood back to let them pass, but she didn’t ask about Max’s whereabouts. She waited for a moment, then went to the kitchen. She found him there, and Mrs. Russell stomping up the back stairs in a huff.
“What a very short engagement,” Maria said, more than a little dismayed.
“What?” Max asked.
“What have you said to my father? Why is he throwing you out of the house?”
“He isn’t—”
“I saw them carrying out the trunk. Mrs. Russell said you were leaving.”
“So I am—but for the sake of appearances. Mr. Markham pointed out—and quite rightly—that I shouldn’t be living here under the same roof with you now. There may be at least six people here at all times, but there is no logic to gossip, and I defer to his judgment. Our meeting went quite well, actually. He gives his blessing and expects to see you after his nap. May I ask what kind of wedding you have in mind?”
She looked at him blankly.
“Church or here, so your father can attend,” he said.
“Here.”
“Attendants?”
“None,” she said, thinking of Suzanne. And Nell. Nell would probably be an appropriate bridesmaid for this kind of marriage.
“When will it be?”
“I don’t know. I leave that to you.”
“All right, I will work for the earliest possible date. What’s wrong?” he asked suddenly.
“Nothing.”
“You aren’t going to faint or anything—?”
“No. I’m quite fine.”
He had come closer, and she looked up at him.
“I am quite fine,” she said again. She wasn’t feeling faint; she was feeling overwhelmed. This was actually happening. She had said yes to Max Woodard, and he was going forward with the plans as if she’d meant it.
She did mean it. She had no choice but to mean it.
No choice.
Chapter Thirteen
Ceily Carscaddon ambushed Maria in the summer kitchen. There was no other word for her sudden appearance outside the doorway mere seconds after Mrs. Russell had gone through it with the rice and broth Maria had made for her father’s noon meal.
The kitchen was stifling hot, and Maria all but trampled Ceily trying to get outside and onto the walkway in the hope of finding some small breeze before she was completely overcome.
“Maria!” Ceily whispered urgently, grabbing her hand and pulling her aside, as if she hadn’t really expected to find her here and was more than a little worried that she might suddenly take off. “I’m sworn to secrecy, but I just had to come. Dear, dear Maria.”
Still perplexed, Maria smiled, because Ceily had that kind of effect on people. They had never been close friends, but she had always liked Ceily very much.
“James says I’m not to mention it to a living soul—but I can mention it to you, of course.”
“Ceily, what are you talking about?”
“You, silly—and Colonel Woodard. I mean, who would have thought it? Does Valentina know? No, of course not. It’s a secret—”
“Ceily—”
“I know, I know. No one is supposed to know about it—but I just had to come, you see? I had to know if I could help—with the wedding or the reception. Or the wedding night,” she add
ed, whispering again. “You don’t have a mother or any female relative to tell you the things you should know about that, and I am a married woman, after all. So tell me—what can I do?”
“Nothing,” Maria said, thankful she’d had a little over a week to get used to being engaged so that Ceily’s offer regarding the wedding night hadn’t completely bowled her over.
“Oh, of course. Suzanne would have explained to you all about being married and sleeping with a man. But I can do something, can’t I? Anything at all. All you have to do is say.”
“Thank you. I will say—as soon as I need something done. How did you find out about the…” Maria tried, but she just couldn’t make herself say the word.
But Ceily didn’t require completed questions. “James, of course,” she said, whispering again.
“Well, how did he find out?” Maria asked in a normal voice.
“I don’t know. The colonel must have mentioned it to his officers, I guess. So when is it?”
“I’m…not sure. Colonel Woodard is making the arrangements—according to his…availability.”
“Yes, of course. The United States Army comes first in all things, doesn’t it? If there is one thing I’ve learned in my marriage to James, I’ve learned that.”
Ceily suddenly hugged her. “You clever girl!” she cried. “I still can’t believe this! Even if the colonel was living in the same house. Tell me. Tell me right now. What did you do to the man to send him on the path to the altar?”
“I—nothing,” Maria said truthfully.
“Well, whatever you did, Valentina Kinnard is going to hate you for it. I think Acacia was already seeing herself being invited to visit the colonel’s parents in Philadelphia.”
“Germantown,” Maria said absently, because Suzanne had told her that was where Max Woodard was actually from.
“Maybe Valentina would like to be a bridesmaid,” Ceily said mischievously, putting her hand immediately to her mouth to hide her laugh.
There’s no time for bridesmaids, Maria almost said, stopping herself when she realized how it would sound. She looked around at the arrival of a carriage. It stopped in the shade in front of the house, and Perkins jumped down and came trotting across the yard.
“The colonel’s compliments, Miss Markham. I’m to tell you that—”
He glanced over his shoulder. The two women in the carriage had disembarked and were coming right behind him. He immediately speeded up his message.
“The colonel’s mother and sister just arrived. He wants them to stay here, miss.”
“He what!” Maria said. The women were nearly in earshot.
“Mother and sister,” Perkins whispered. “He wants them to stay here—excuse me now, miss. Colonel’s expecting me,” he added, wisely running for his life.
Maria stood there, speechless.
“Oh, my,” Ceily whispered beside her. “Look at those hats. Look at those dresses.”
The older woman was wearing a very pale mauve dress—almost the color of ashes—with a brilliant turquoise-and-mauve hat and trimmings. The color alone was an indicator of her financial security, that she could travel in a dress of that light color and that kind of fabric and not worry about getting it ruined or dirty. The younger woman had on a shimmering deep green dress that reminded Maria of a cool pond in summertime. Both women were absolutely stunning.
Oh, my, indeed.
“Miss Markham?” the younger woman said, looking expectantly at Ceily.
Of course, they would make that mistake, Maria thought. How could they not? Ceily was well dressed and was worthy of an “Oh, my” in her own right. Maria, on the other hand, looked—and felt—like the scullery maid.
“No, Kate,” the older woman said. “I believe this is Maria—may I call you that, my dear?” she asked, extending her hand in Maria’s direction.
Maria took it, and the woman squeezed her fingers warmly. “Yes, of course,” she said. “I—this is Mrs. Carscaddon.”
“Mrs. Lieutenant James Carscaddon,” Ceily said with a pride that made the older woman smile.
“I’m very pleased to meet you both,” Mrs. Woodard said. “I realize we’ve caught you quite by surprise, Maria. Max said your father was ill. How is he, my dear?”
“He’s better of late,” Maria said.
“Now, we have no wish to burden you unduly. I’m sure we can go to one of the hotels.”
“No—no, that won’t be necessary. There’s the room Col—Max had when he was billeted here. I believe you will find it more comfortable than the hotel—at least quieter.”
“You’re sure we’re not intruding?”
“Very sure,” Maria said, hoping the lie was convincing. She gave Ceily a desperate look. Now she needed help. “Please. All of you. Come inside.”
“And where are the little boys Max told me about?” Mrs. Woodard asked.
Maria looked at her in surprise. “They’re napping. They’ll be awake soon.”
“Wonderful,” Kate said. “I am so looking forward to meeting them.”
Maria looked around at another arrival—Mrs. Russell. She had forgotten all about Mrs. Russell.
But she had no choice but to blunder on and pray earnestly that Mrs. Russell wouldn’t spit in anyone’s eye.
“Mrs. Russell,” Maria said. “This is Colonel Woodard’s mother and sister. Mrs. Woodard, Miss Kate Woodard—Mrs. Russell.”
Mrs. Russell gave them the barest of nods. “I will be going now, Maria,” she said, immediately ignoring them. “I see you have no need of my company.”
“Mrs. Russell—” Maria began, then broke off. There was nothing she could say to placate the woman, and there was no point in trying. “Thank you for your help,” she said to the woman’s retreating back.
“Is she the Mrs. Russell who is Major De Graff’s nemesis?” Kate whispered.
“I—yes,” Maria said, completely taken aback. Max Woodard may not have told his family the specifics about her—but he’d clearly told them everything else.
“It’s very sad, isn’t it,” Kate said. “Life is too short to waste on hating people. She should take a lesson from you and Max.”
Maria said nothing to that.
“I take it she doesn’t know about the coming marriage,” Kate added.
“No. No one does really—except Ceily—Mrs. Carscaddon.”
She led the way for the women to go inside.
“You must be tired,” she said to Mrs. Woodard and Kate. “I’ll show you to the room. You can rest for a bit. I was about to make some lemonade for my father. I’ll bring you some, as well.”
“Maria, you mustn’t feel you have to wait upon us,” Mrs. Woodard insisted, but that was precisely the way Maria felt. She took her leave as graciously as she could and stopped to check on the boys. The pallet where they should have been sleeping was empty.
She hurried down the hallway to her father’s room. He was awake and playing cards with his current orderly.
“Father, have you seen the boys?”
“No, can’t say that…I have. Have you…misplaced them?”
“Yes,” she said. “And I have to find them before they get into something.” She hurried out of the room, then stuck her head back inside. “Colonel Woodard’s mother and sister have arrived,” she said. “Here,” she added.
“Good,” her father said, clearly not recognizing it for the calamity it was. “Bruno here…will make me…presentable. Then I shall…meet them both. Right…Bruno?”
“Yes, Sir, Mr. Markham,” Bruno said.
Maria didn’t wait to hear any more of the plan. She hurried down the back stairs, still looking for little boys along the way. Ceily was waiting in the kitchen.
“What can I do?” she said, taking off her hat and gloves.
“I can’t find the boys,” Maria said. “And I’ve promised Mrs. Woodard some lemonade—”
“I’ll make it,” Ceily said.
“Thank you, Ceily,” Maria said in relief. “The lemons a
nd the sugar are in the locked pantry. The key is hanging on the peg there. I’m going outside to see if I can find them.”
She crossed the backyard, looking behind the summer kitchen, in the garden and in the stable.
No children.
Then she took a deep breath and approached the soldiers camped at the edge of the property.
“I’m looking for the boys,” she said. “Have you seen them?”
“Yes, miss, I did. They were heading that way, toward downtown. I would have stopped them if I’d had any idea they’d jumped the fence.”
“Thank you,” Maria said, and started down the street at a half run, calling as she went.
She came to the Kinnard house, and she still didn’t see them.
“That way, Miss Maria,” the Kinnard’s longtime butler called to her from their upstairs portico.
Maria waved her thanks and kept going—and she kept calling. She caught a glimpse of them as she crossed the main road that led in and out of town.
“Joe! Jake!” she yelled. Both boys broke into a run, Jake’s little short legs pumping hard to keep up with his brother.
She ran through a backyard to head them off. She had a good idea where they were going now—to military headquarters.
Her petticoat got caught in a hedge of wild blackberries at the edge of a vacant lot, and she had to stop to try to get the last decent undergarment she owned free without tearing it. In the end, she just had to jerk it loose, cringing as she did so at the sound of the rip.
She had lost sight of the boys now, but when she took a shortcut through an ally behind the hotel and came out across from the military headquarters, she saw both children disappearing up the stairs to the second floor where Max’s office was located.
The street was at least knee-deep in mud and horse droppings, and she ran down to the end of the block to cross on the tall granite stepping stones.
By the time she reached the headquarters, several people had gathered to wait for an audience with the colonel. The private on duty at the foot of the stairs wouldn’t let her or anyone else pass.
“No, miss,” he insisted. “I can’t let you go up there without seeing if the colonel says you can first.”
“I’ve come for the boys—I’m sure you saw them come in,” Maria said, trying to get past.
The Bride Fair Page 17
