Reluctant Proxy Bride

by Margaret Tanner

  “Of course, I am. Where do you think I’d be?” A large, almost masculine looking woman with grey hair stepped up to them. “Mrs. McNulty?”

  “Yes, I’m Ruth McNulty.”

  “Come on in.” Her smile did not quite reach her eyes.

  “I’ll be off to see to the horse.”

  Such a grand house and grounds. Obviously, the Osbornes were rich. The kitchen was spacious with a fancy modern cook stove. The dresser had diamond leadlight doors. Ruth could scarcely believe the opulence of the place. What she wouldn’t give to be able to cook in here.

  “I’ll show you to your room. Miss Arabella, I mean, Mrs. Osborne, thought it might be better if you had a downstairs room, rather than you having to climb the stairs up to the servant’s quarters.”

  “Oh?”

  “Because of your delicate condition.”

  “Thank you, that is very considerate, but not necessary.”

  “It’s what Miss Arabella decided. She understands your condition as she is expecting herself.”

  “I didn’t know. How far along is she?”

  “About four months.”

  “I’m the same. What a coincidence.”

  Being pregnant herself, Mrs. Osborne would be understanding of the few limitations she had placed on herself to ensure her child’s well-being. This baby was all she had after five years of marriage. She brushed a wayward tear off her cheek.

  “Miss Arabella is out, so I’ll take you to your room. Maybe you might like to lie down and rest for a while. You’re quite pale and sickly looking.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Duckworth. I do feel weary. It was a long trip.”

  “Come with me. Abe will bring your luggage in later.”

  Ruth followed the housekeeper out of the kitchen and into a hallway with a magnificent staircase leading up to the second floor. At the top of the stairs was a landing where a large, stained-glass window depicting a knight on a prancing steed dominated the area.

  “It’s beautiful.” Ruth was awestruck.

  “Miss Arabella has lived all of her life here. I helped the doctor to deliver her.”

  “I expect you’re close then.”

  “Yes, such a pretty baby, and the older she got the more beautiful she grew.”

  Ruth didn’t know what to say so she remained silent.

  “This will be your room.” The housekeeper opened a door on the left and stepped in, leaving Ruth to follow. “It’s small yet adequate.”

  Small? This room was larger than the whole house her and Virgil had rented. Pretty flowered curtains fluttering at the open window exactly matched the quilt on the single bed.

  “This is lovely. Thank you.”

  “Thank Mrs. Osborne, not me.” Was there a hint of disapproval in the woman’s voice? “You lie down and rest for an hour or two. I’ll come and get you then and we can share a cup of tea.”

  “That would be nice.” A cup of tea now would be even better, although she didn’t want to ask, not after being given such a beautiful room.

  As soon as the housekeeper left, Ruth slipped out of her black mourning dress and hung it in the closet, hoping the creases would drop out of it. Wearing only her undergarments, she turned the bed covers down and with a sigh slid between the crisp white sheets. Her luck seemed to have taken a turn for the better. Never in her wildest dreams had she expected to be treated like this.

  Mrs. Osborne, or Miss Arabella, as the housekeeper called her, was obviously a nice lady. Ruth closed her eyes and felt a blessed relief to be motionless for the first time in days.

  Chapter Three

  “Mrs. McNulty.” The housekeeper’s voice intruded on her sleep, or maybe it was the gentle shaking that did it. Ruth’s eyes flickered open. For a moment, she blinked to make sure she was awake. “Miss Arabella is home and wants to share a cup of tea with you.”

  “Of course. I must have dozed off.”

  “Tidy yourself up and I’ll come back in five minutes to take you to the small sitting room.”

  “Thank you.” How many sitting rooms were there in the house? As soon as the housekeeper left, Ruth climbed out of bed and quickly made it up. Her trunk had been deposited under the window by Abe, as his wife would never be able to carry it. On the one hand, it perturbed her that the man had entered the room while she slept. On the other hand, it meant she could wear a clean dress for her meeting with Mrs. Osborne.

  She opened the trunk and retrieved a deep green dress with darker green trim on the cuffs and collars. It wasn’t black but was subdued enough for a widow still in mourning to wear inside the house, at least. On her trip here, she had been able to change her undergarments and wash them on occasion and had alternated between the only two dresses she possessed. Hopefully, they might provide a uniform for her to wear here.

  Once she was dressed, she sat at the mirrored dresser and tidied up her hair. She normally wore it in a plait which was curled around the back of her head and pinned in place. Thankfully, the pallor had left her face and the anxiety had disappeared from her eyes.

  The housekeeper bustled into the bedroom. “Good, you’re ready. You look much better.”

  “Thank you, I feel it.”

  “Come along, we can’t keep Miss Arabella waiting.”

  As Ruth followed the woman back down the hallway, her nervous tension mounted. What if Mrs. Osborne thought she was unsuitable? What would she do if they banished her from this house?

  The small sitting room had pretty floral furnishings. The woman sitting in a red velvet armchair immediately caught her attention.

  Arabella Osborne was in her mid-thirties, Ruth guessed. She wore her blonde hair in a chignon and her blue eyes were slightly shadowed. It was amazing how alike they were in looks. They could easily pass for sisters.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Osborne. Thank you so much for all your kindness. I didn’t expect it.”

  “As one expectant mother to another, I thought you deserved a little extra consideration after your long journey.” She smiled.

  “It was indeed a long journey and I was glad to see it end.”

  “You will share a cup of tea with me?”

  “Yes, of course, thank you.”

  The housekeeper bustled off.

  “When is your baby due?”

  Ruth patted her stomach. “In about five months.”

  “Mine is, too.” Mrs. Osborne patted her stomach in an almost identical movement. “You aren’t showing yet.”

  “Not when I’m clothed, but when I’m undressed, I can see a little bulge.”

  “Me, too. My husband is in England at the moment as his father died and he is settling the estate.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It was sad, but my husband has inherited the family business and a lovely manor house, so we’ll be moving over there to live.”

  Ruth’s heart dropped to her boots. This was only going to be a temporary position.

  “When will you be leaving for England?”

  “Once the baby is born and we are both fit enough to travel. The Duckworths will be coming with us. I couldn’t cope without them. They’ve worked for my family since before I was born.”

  The housekeeper’s return interrupted the flow of conversation. She carried a tray containing two sets of matching cups, saucers and plates, and a crystal plate with slices of chocolate cake on it.

  Ruth could scarcely believe her eyes as Mrs. Duckworth poured the tea out of the matching china teapot. Weak black for Mrs. Osborne with a slice of cake. She did the same for Ruth, who could never recall ever being waited on before.

  “I’ll leave you to add your own sugar and cream if you take it.”

  “This is perfect,” Ruth said. “I like it just the way it is, thank you.”

  The woman left them together.

  “Do you find you feel hungrier now, Ruth?”

  “Yes, I do. I used to tell my late husband that I was eating for two. He thought it was rubbish, but I don’t think so.”

&
nbsp; “I’m much hungrier, too. What would men know about it?”

  Ruth laughed, suddenly feeling happy for the first time in ages. She would worry about obtaining another position when the time came. She would have no need to spend much of her wages as everything was provided for her here, and Mrs. Osborne might know someone who could give her a job.

  “After you go to England, will the house be closed up?”

  “No, we decided to sell it as we won’t be returning.”

  “What about me?” She had just finished telling herself not to mention it but the words spilled out of her mouth of their own volition.

  “You don’t have to worry. I’ll make sure you are taken care of.”

  “Thank you. I really appreciate your kindness, Mrs. Osborne.”

  They drank their tea in silence. This was a strange position to be sure. They had not even discussed what her duties would be.

  “Mrs. Osborne, what am I expected to do here?”

  “Oh.” The woman waved her hand around. “Just be here for me and you can help Mrs. Duckworth, too. Nothing too strenuous. We have to make sure your baby isn’t put in jeopardy.”

  “Thank you for being so understanding. I didn’t expect it. This coming baby is all I’ve got.”

  “You have no relatives or close friends?”

  Ruth shook her head. “None at all.”

  Mrs. Osborne smiled. “Well, that is lucky for us.”

  “What?”

  “It means you can concentrate all your energies on me.” She gave a tinkling laugh. “I can be demanding. Mrs. Duckworth is such a dear, but she is getting on in years.”

  Thank goodness there was no mention of her going to England with them. She wasn’t brave enough to travel to the other side of the world.

  ◆◆◆

  That evening, Ruth ate supper at the kitchen table with the Duckworths. Roast beef with an assortment of vegetables, followed by apple pie and clotted cream. Mrs. Osborn ate alone at the large, intricately carved dining room table. Gold candelabras stood on either side of the table and she sat like a royal princess. Ruth had never seen anything like it. Obviously, when Mr. Osborne was home, their evening meal was a formal affair, which Mrs. Osborne wasn’t prepared to change.

  “In the morning,” Mrs. Duckworth said, “Miss Arabella will be visiting a friend. She will be gone most of the day. You can help me in the morning with cleaning, then the rest of the day will be your own until about four o’clock. You might want to take a walk into town to look around.”

  “Thank you. I noticed when your husband drove me here that there were lots of fancy stores and buildings.” Ruth was starting to wonder why she was even needed here. Not that she was complaining, it just seemed strange. As her employer’s pregnancy advanced, maybe she would need more help.

  Enjoy it while you can, she thought. It was an easy way to make her wages.

  ◆◆◆

  The next morning after breakfast, while Abe drove Mrs. Osborne to her friend’s place, Ruth helped tidy up the kitchen. With such modern fixtures, it was a pleasure rather than a chore.

  Up on the second floor, Ruth stifled a gasp of surprise at seeing Mrs. Osborne’s bedroom. It was huge, with a connecting door leading into a dressing room. Another door was open and she saw what she supposed was Mr. Osborne’s bedroom. The sleeping arrangements seemed strange to her but never having had dealings with rich people before, she supposed they were a law unto themselves.

  Mrs. Osborne’s room was full of antique furniture. A four-poster bed had burgundy silk curtains exactly matching the velvet window coverings. They were tied back with gold cords. Double glass doors opened on to a small balcony overlooking the gardens.

  Ruth changed the bed linen and remade the bed. Mrs. Osborne apparently insisted on fresh sheets each day. Mrs. Duckworth did not appear to think this was unusual, whereas Ruth thought it unnecessary.

  She had glanced into the cavernous closet and the array of silk and taffeta gowns had her swallowing gasps of amazement.

  Once she finished up there, she headed downstairs to find Mrs. Duckworth applying beeswax polish to the fancy balustrades.

  “Do you need me for anything else, Mrs. Duckworth?”

  “No, you go now. Just make sure you’re back by four o’clock.”

  “I will, thank you. Do you need me to get anything for you?”

  “No, off you go.”

  Ruth had no need to be told twice. She hurried to her room to put on her black bonnet and grabbed up her reticule.

  Chapter Four

  A soft summer breeze caressed Ruth’s face as she strolled along, marveling at some of the magnificent houses. This was obviously the rich part of town.

  She soon came to the area where the fancy stores were, and what an array there was. A cozy tearoom caught her eye. It had several tables set for two on both the inside and outside. The aroma of fresh pastries made her mouth water and she vowed to call in here on her way back.

  Milliners, dressmakers, and exclusive tailoring stores, by the prices they charged, caught her eyes. She pressed her nose up to the windows to admire a pretty blue bonnet trimmed with pale pink and blue feathers and white flowers. The four-dollar price tag had her hurrying away. It was outrageous to spend so much money on headwear, no matter how pretty it was.

  A small brown dog bounded up to her and wagged its tail. She bent down to pet it. “What are you doing here?” It was dangerous for the little creature to be out with carriages and horses passing up and down the street. “Are you lost?”

  With a woof, he took off down a nearby side street. She hurried after him. Poor little thing was obviously lost. It stopped outside a small building with lace curtains covering the windows and stood there whining.

  “Oh, did someone close the door on you?”

  Ruth opened the door and, with a loud woof, the dog charged inside and disappeared through a doorway next to a sign that said Denver Matrimonial Agency. Then in smaller letters underneath Proxy Brides and Grooms a specialty.

  She turned to go now the little dog was obviously safely home.

  “May I help you?” A young woman appeared holding the dog.

  “No, thanks. I found your dog out amongst the traffic and feared he might get run over. I wanted to make sure he was safe, so I followed him here.”

  “You’re safe aren’t you, Georgie?” The woman gave him a cuddle. “You were a naughty boy sneaking off when someone didn’t close the door properly. Thank you for seeing he got back here safely.”

  “That’s all right, I just didn’t want him to get hurt.” Suddenly, it hit Ruth that maybe she could become a mail-order bride. She had heard of them before. If she could start writing to a couple of respectable men now, it might be an option for her when the Osborne’s left for England.

  “What’s a proxy bride?” She was curious despite herself. Maybe it would be better than the mail-order bride option.

  “Sit down,” the lady said. “A proxy bride means that a man who needs a wife and can’t attend the wedding gets a proxy. That is another man to stand in for him.”

  “Really? Would that be legal?” Ruth sat opposite the lady.

  “My husband and I are partners in the business. It’s all legal and professionally run. He’s a lawyer, so he can do all the legal work required. Are you interested in becoming a proxy bride?”

  “I’m not sure.” Ruth gnawed her lip. “I don’t really want a husband. My husband died in a fire a couple of months ago.”

  “How dreadful. I’m sorry. I’m Sarah Denver.”

  “I’m Ruth McNulty. The thing is, I’m expecting a baby. I’m about four months along. I’ve got a temporary job probably until the baby is born.” She went on to tell Sarah the position she was in, without mentioning any names.

  “I’ll need money, probably more than I can save from my wages, to keep me going until the baby is old enough for me to obtain employment. I could stay in Boston as there would probably be a lot of opportunities here for me. I
would need to be able to take the baby with me. I was thinking if I could get a job as a nursemaid or something similar it would be ideal.”

  “It would be a good idea for you to stay here. There are a lot of wealthy families who might want someone to care for their children. A position as a wet nurse is another option. Many of these wealthy women think it is beneath them to breast feed their babies.”

  “How selfish.”

  “Yes. In fact, Ruth, there are a lot of spoilt, pampered women living around here.”

  “I need money to keep me going for a while.”

  “Some men are prepared to pay a woman to marry him without ever wanting to meet her.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Often, it has to do with an inheritance. For example, a man might need a wife to be able to inherit. They stay married for twelve months or so then get an annulment.”

  “Is that possible?” Ruth could scarcely believe people would hold the sanctity of marriage in such poor esteem as to sell it like a commodity.

  “As a matter of fact, we’ve got a client.” She opened the desk drawer and withdrew a folder. “He was left a ranch but has to be married to claim it.”

  Ruth gasped. It sounded so mercenary.

  “I actually feel sorry for him. He was a prisoner in Andersonville during the war.”

  “I heard it was a terrible place.” Ruth shuddered.

  “Anyway, his uncle died and left him a ranch up in Colorado on the proviso that he gets married. He doesn’t want a wife but doesn’t want to lose his ranch after living and working on it for the past few years. He wants to get married, not have anything to do with the wife, and have the marriage annulled after twelve months. If you were prepared to agree to marry him, you would be paid fifty dollars for your trouble.”

  “I wouldn’t have to leave here?”

  “No.”

  “Would never have to meet him?”