An Unexpected Love

by Tracie Peterson

  Amanda motioned for the maid to leave the room. “Really, Mother, you do need to calm yourself. The servants are working at a fever pitch in order to meet your demands, but if you continue to bark orders, they’ll never accomplish a thing.”

  “Bark? I do not bark, Amanda.” Victoria clutched a hand to the collar of her checked silk waist. “What a horrid thing to say about your mother.”

  “You’re correct. My word choice was inappropriate. Please forgive me.” She grasped her mother’s hand. “But the fact remains that the servants are able to accomplish only one task at a time.”

  Her mother sighed. “That may be correct, but we must be prepared when our guests arrive this afternoon. In order to do so, I am going to need the full cooperation of both the family and the servants.” She rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. “How I could forget we were to host this gathering still escapes me.”

  A ritual had begun many years ago during which residents of the islands would gather for a time of picnicking and games at the island retreats of one another. At first it had been a monthly event, but soon the social occasions had expanded to an every-other-week affair. Depending upon when they scheduled their arrival at the island, her mother volunteered to host the event at least once and sometimes twice during the summer.

  “I suppose since we arrived earlier this year and you had agreed to the date last summer . . .” Amanda’s voice trailed off, hoping the excuse would settle her mother.

  “And all this upset with an unexpected wedding didn’t help, either, I don’t suppose. Had I not been worrying over the details of Sophie’s reception, I would have likely remembered.”

  “I don’t think you should place the blame on Sophie, Mother. She didn’t request a reception. That was your idea.”

  Victoria waved at the silver serving pieces in the cherry cabinet. “We’re wasting time. Tell Mrs. Atwell the silver is in need of polishing.”

  “This is a picnic. We don’t need to use the silver, do we? And Mrs. Atwell is busy preparing the food. She doesn’t have time to polish silver, and the other maids have been assigned enough duties to keep them busy until the guests arrive.”

  “What am I to do? We will never be ready in time.” Her mother dropped to the dining room chair. “Perhaps I should have Mr. Atwell deliver my regrets to those who are expected to attend.” She arched her brows and looked at Amanda. “What do you think?”

  “By the time you penned all those notes, I doubt Mr. Atwell would have time to deliver them to each of the islands.” Amanda sat down beside her mother. “Everything will be fine, Mother. No one will notice if you serve one less dish than you offered last year. They come to visit and play games, not to judge your food or the house.” Although Amanda knew that wasn’t entirely true, she hoped the words would soothe her mother’s anxiety.

  “I should have had Mr. Atwell deliver notes first thing this morning—the moment I remembered. Along with all of these preparations to cause me worry, there’s Sophie’s marriage. That’s bound to cause quite a stir, especially with Elizabeth Oosterman. She’ll likely leave early in order to spread the word throughout the entire region.”

  Amanda giggled. “I believe you are exaggerating just a bit, Mother.”

  “It might be best if Paul and Sophie went into Clayton for the day. Or perhaps they should go to Canada for a honeymoon. Yes. They could go to Canada for a week or so. If anyone inquires about Sophie’s whereabouts, we can say she’s gone to Brockville for a brief visit.”

  “There isn’t time for them to pack for a honeymoon. Neither of them has even come downstairs yet. I think you should simply check with Sophie. If she prefers to keep her marriage secret a while longer, you can gather the adults and tell them that there is no need to mention the wedding.”

  The idea appeared to calm her mother. “Why don’t I place you in charge of that task? If Sophie agrees, then the two of you can speak to the family members. Have Fanny help you, too.” Victoria pushed away from the table. “Should Sophie be willing to announce the marriage, you might remind her that Mrs. Oosterman will be among the guests. I’m certain Sophie will recall the woman’s penchant for unearthing every possible detail and then promptly passing it along.”

  “I’ll remind her. And I’ll do my best to keep Mrs. Oosterman otherwise occupied.”

  “I’m not certain how you’ll manage that feat.”

  “Clara Barton is in the islands this week, and she will surely attend with the Pullmans. I want to find out more about Miss Barton’s work with the Red Cross, and I’ll do my best to involve Mrs. Oosterman in the conversation. If she attempts to wander off, I will say something that will entice her back to the conversation.”

  Her mother brushed a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, Amanda. Don’t forget to check with Sophie and advise the family that the wedding topic is taboo.” Her mother glanced out the dining room window. “I wonder if some of my grandchildren might be willing to polish silver.”

  Amanda shook her head and laughed. “I wish you well with that endeavor.”

  By early afternoon Amanda was standing at her mother’s side to welcome their guests. Jonas ushered the men to the side veranda, while the women congregated on the lawn in front of the house and the children scattered to play croquet or tag.

  Amanda touched her mother’s arm. “Look. Clara Barton is coming up the path with Royal Pullman. I can hardly wait to visit with her.” Had it not been a breach of etiquette, Amanda would have run down the path to greet the woman.

  “She does look well for a woman of her years,” Victoria commented. “I can only hope that I’ll be able to climb that path when I’m nearing eighty years.”

  “Is she truly so old?” Amanda’s jaw went slack. The woman appeared no more than sixty.

  “So I’m told,” her mother said, stepping forward to greet another guest.

  The moment Miss Barton drew near, Amanda hurried to greet her. “I do hope you’ll have an opportunity to sit and visit with me for a short time while you’re here, Miss Barton. I have many questions about your work.”

  The older woman smiled and glanced at Mr. Pullman. “If you’d like to join the other men, Royal, it appears I’ve found someone with whom I may converse. I’m certain that if I’m in need of anything, Miss Broadmoor will come to my aid.”

  Amanda bobbed her head. “I shall see to her every need, Mr. Pullman.” Once he’d departed, the two women settled into wicker chairs under a nearby shade tree, away from the noise. “I aspire to enter the medical field, and I’d be grateful to hear anything you believe might assist me in my endeavor.”

  One of the servants circulated the lawn with a serving tray containing glasses and a pitcher of lemonade. Miss Barton motioned him forward and removed a glass from the tray. “If you want advice on where to attend school and the like, I’m afraid you’ll need to get it elsewhere.” She swallowed a sip of lemonade. “I started out a teacher, you know.”

  Amanda sat spellbound and listened while the older woman recounted her past. Miss Barton explained how she’d received her medical training by working alongside doctors during the Civil War. After the war ended, President Lincoln had granted her permission to begin a letter-writing campaign to search for missing Civil War soldiers through the Office of Correspondence.

  “How did you conceive the idea of the Red Cross, Miss Barton?”

  “Oh, I can’t take credit for the idea, my dear. While I was in Europe I learned about the concept. The idea had been outlined in the Treaty of Geneva. Later, I had an opportunity to travel with Red Cross volunteers serving in the Franco-Prussian War. Their good works amazed me, and I knew we needed the same thing in this country. When I returned home, I began to work toward establishing the American Red Cross.”

  Thrilled by Miss Barton’s endeavors, Amanda clung to every word. “You give me hope that I may one day achieve my goals.”

  Miss Barton offered a wry smile. “You must remember that in order to gain one thing in life, you must sometimes
give up another. One day you will be faced with that difficult decision, Miss Broadmoor. Follow your heart and choose wisely.”

  The guests were beginning to assemble for the afternoon repast, so Amanda assisted the older woman to her feet. “Though I would prefer to continue our chat, I see we are being summoned to join the other guests.”

  Mr. Pullman rounded the corner, and Miss Barton joined him while Amanda scanned the crowd for her mother. Beatrice had taken charge of the buffet tables and was ordering the servants as to where to place the food. The children scampered nearby, eager to fill their plates. A moment later she spotted her mother with Mrs. Oosterman. Clearly overdressed for a picnic, the woman wore a hat of blue tulle with black chenille dots and peacock feathers that waved in the afternoon breeze.

  She hurried toward the women. Her mother would be aghast to know the guests had already begun to fill their plates. As she approached, Amanda detected the distress in her mother’s eyes.

  “No need to deny what I’ve been told by several of your nieces and nephews, as well as your grandchildren, Victoria. What I don’t understand is exactly how I have offended you.” Mrs. Oosterman dabbed her handkerchief to her eyes, although Amanda saw no evidence of tears. “Why weren’t Edward and I invited to the wedding?”

  Amanda sighed. They should have given the older children explicit instructions, but who would have thought that one of them would even speak to Mrs. Oosterman, much less tell her about Sophie’s wedding.

  “The guests, Mother,” Amanda said, pointing at the veranda. Perhaps she could bring this conversation to an end by diverting Mrs. Oosterman toward the food. Then again, Mrs. Oosterman would likely continue her questions in front of the other guests, and havoc would reign.

  “At Sophie’s request, the wedding was a private affair. She asked that only family be present,” Victoria explained.

  “Why would a Broadmoor desire an intimate family wedding? I can think of only one reason why she wouldn’t want to celebrate with a huge marriage in Rochester.” Mrs. Oosterman raised her brows and snapped open her fan.

  Amanda leaned her head close and was attacked by the swirl of peacock feathers. “Sophie isn’t given to garish displays, Mrs. Oosterman. Some may find that difficult to understand, but I’m certain a woman of your taste and refinement can appreciate the fact that we wanted to honor the bride’s wishes.”

  “I suppose, but I—”

  Amanda grasped her mother’s elbow. “You truly need to see to our guests, Mother. If you’ll excuse us, Mrs. Oosterman?”

  “Thank you, my dear,” her mother whispered when they were out of earshot. “I doubt that is going to silence Mrs. Oosterman’s loose lips, but at least I won’t have to endure any more of her questions.”

  “Mrs. Oosterman will likely talk, but we must simply apply one of Miss Barton’s rules of action.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Unconcern for what cannot be helped.” Amanda grinned. “I think it pertains to our circumstance, don’t you?”

  “I suppose it does. We certainly can’t control what Mrs. Oosterman will or will not do, and there’s no need to concern ourselves further. Did Miss Barton have any other rules of action?”

  “Control under pressure.”

  Victoria laughed. “I do believe I could have used that rule earlier this morning.”

  23

  Monday, July 4, 1898

  Sophie stopped in the hallway outside her cousins’ bedroom and listened to snatches of an angry argument floating up the stairway. The voices of her sisters Beatrice and Nadine and Aunt Victoria were easily distinguished, although she couldn’t figure out any of the others. From what she could hear, many of them were unhappy, and she was the cause.

  Before turning the knob, she tapped on the bedroom door. “Amanda? Fanny?”

  Fanny waved her forward. “We’re almost ready to go downstairs for breakfast. Have the other family members begun to arrive?”

  Sophie shook her head. “I don’t think so, but it seems Beatrice, Nadine, and their children are all angry because we’re going to remain on Broadmoor Island for our Independence Day celebration. They want to go to either Wellesley or Round Island.”

  Amanda shoved a hairpin into her golden tresses. “We’ve celebrated the holiday here on Broadmoor Island several different times. I don’t know why you feel you’ll be faulted for Mother’s decision.”

  Sophie didn’t argue. Once they went downstairs, Amanda would hear the remarks for herself. Sophie knew her older sisters well—especially Beatrice, who would continue to grouse for the remainder of the day. Beatrice loved nothing more than an audience, and she would have a large one today. Except for Dorian and Louisa, all of the family members would be in attendance for the final distribution of Grandfather’s estate.

  Fanny retrieved several red, white, and blue ribbons from her drawer and waved them at her cousins. “We must keep up the tradition.”

  The three girls had pinned the ribbons in their hair every Independence Day since they’d been young girls, and Fanny loved the custom. There had been a few years when Sophie or Amanda had offered an objection because the ribbons didn’t match their dresses, but tradition had always won out.

  With their ribbons in place, the three girls left the quiet of the bedroom. “Let’s hope the others have finished their breakfast and we’ll have the dining room for ourselves,” Fanny said.

  Sophie stiffened when she caught sight of Beatrice and Nadine. The children had left, no doubt to go outside and play, but her sisters and Aunt Victoria were still in the dining room. She could tell from the set of Beatrice’s jaw that this wasn’t going to be a pleasant breakfast.

  “Nice to see the three of you have finally managed to dress and come downstairs.” Beatrice’s disapproving look was followed by a glance at the clock.

  Amanda picked up a plate and helped herself to the eggs. “I didn’t know we were on a schedule this morning.”

  Beatrice directed an icy glare at her younger sister. “Perhaps you’re not, Amanda, but married women generally get up before this time of day.”

  “I don’t know why,” Amanda retorted. “We’re on holiday.” She winked at Sophie before adding a biscuit to her plate.

  Sophie filled her plate and sat down opposite Beatrice. “I know you’re unhappy that we won’t be going to Wellesley Island, Beatrice, and I do apologize. I’m sure you believe the decision to be my fault.”

  Beatrice cocked a brow. “Well, isn’t it? Your hasty wedding has everyone gossiping, and the children will now miss the grand celebration and fireworks at Wellesley.”

  “I’m certain you are loath to miss the gossip, Beatrice, but if you’ll recall, this isn’t the first time we’ve remained on Broadmoor Island to celebrate the holiday. Last year we weren’t even on the island in time for Independence Day. We celebrated in Rochester.”

  “Which is even more reason to enjoy the Wellesley celebration this year,” Beatrice said in a smug, haughty tone. “If we don’t, the children will be so disappointed.”

  “I doubt the children will suffer overmuch. There will be fireworks and games and more than enough family members with whom you can discuss my hasty marriage.” Sophie plunged her fork into a mound of scrambled eggs and returned her sister’s icy glare.

  “Besides, Father has ordered fireworks, and unlike that one year, they’ve arrived early and are ready for use,” Amanda added. “So stop whining about the children’s disappointment. They will have plenty to keep them occupied.”

  Aunt Victoria forced a smile. “Now, now, I don’t think we need to begin our day with an argument. What time do you think we should eat this evening? Jonas wants to have the distribution this afternoon. Shall we eat immediately following?”

  “I think that would be wise, since Beatrice will probably have enough questions and complaints to keep the meeting in progress until well after the supper hour,” Sophie said.

  “I am not going to dignify that remark with a response.
” Beatrice pushed away from the table. “I’ll be outside if you should need me, Aunt Victoria.” Tipping her chin in the air, she marched out of the room with Nadine following close behind.

  Fanny giggled. “I do hope it doesn’t begin to rain. Poor Beatrice will drown.”

  Aunt Victoria ignored the remark. “If you girls will excuse me, I need to speak with Mrs. Atwell and some of the other servants.”

  “Beatrice truly is quite mean. Do you think it’s because she’s terribly unhappy?” Fanny asked.

  Sophie shrugged. “I’m not certain, but I do feel sympathy for poor Andrew. I wonder how he bears to live with my sister’s constant tirades. Then again, perhaps she doesn’t act this way when she’s not around the rest of the family.” Sophie was skeptical about the soundness of that idea because her sister had been quick to criticize and gossip from an early age, but she would at least give Beatrice the benefit of the doubt.

  “Would you like to do anything special this morning, or shall we go and play croquet with the children?” Amanda asked.

  “I don’t want to play croquet,” Sophie said, “but I’ll come and watch if you two want to play. I do feel as though I’ve ruined the day for both of you. I’m sorry you’re going to miss all of the fun at the other islands.”

  “You seem to forget that it was you who enjoyed those parties, Sophie. Amanda and I went along merely to keep you company. We’re happy to remain on the island. We’ll have a lovely time.”

  After finishing their breakfast, the three girls strolled to one of their favorite picnic spots, where they could visit in private and enjoy the view of passing boats.

  “When will Paul arrive?” Fanny asked, picking a wild flower and tucking it into her hair.

  “He should be here this afternoon. He planned to take some of the children from the Home to the Independence Day parade in Rochester this morning. I don’t know if he’ll remain there to help with their picnic or not.”

  “For a recently married man, he’s been in Rochester a great deal,” Amanda said. “I’m sure Beatrice has been taking note of his absence.”