“Charles, I was speaking to your fiancée earlier tonight. I was a bit baffled as to why you never told her about the ugly duckling you had been married to before,” Lady Wellington said as she placed her spoon into her empty bowl.
A former Mrs. Chesterfield? Now that was a bit of information John had been unaware of. He was equally baffled that Ester had not been told. He smiled and stared at Charles, who was for his part, sputtering over his bowl. Mrs. Chesterfield looked like she has swallowed something sour.
“He was married before?” John asked with the sole purpose of goading the other man.
“Oh yes. A very unattractive girl from a wealthy family. Her sisters, though, are all very lovely, pretty young women who found husbands quite quickly,” Lady Wellington offered. “Sadly, she died before she was able to blossom herself.”
“I am sorry for your loss, Charles.” He knew how deeply losing a spouse could wound a person. His mother and brother were both testaments to the pain death brings those left behind.
“I don’t need condolences from the likes of you,” Charles snarled.
“So, it is true? You were married before? Why would you keep such a thing from me?” Ester’s voice barely a whisper as she turned to face her fiancé.
“Ester, now is not the time or place to discuss such matters,” Mrs. Chesterfield said. “Lady Wellington, as a Baroness, I would have expected more from you.”
“It is because I am a Baroness that I can say what I wish and still everyone will clamor to have me at their parties. It is a bit freeing, if you ask me.” She placed a gloved hand on John’s arm and smiled. “It is the scandals my words have caused that has me in America right now. My husband felt it would allow rumors to die down if I was out of the country.”
“What possibly could a lady such as yourself say that would warrant being sent away?” John asked. He knew in polite society that women were reserved in their manners but always very prone to gossip mercilessly amongst themselves.
“I criticized the Queen in the allowing of her eldest daughter to marry German Emperor Frederick III. My comments were not well received as you can imagine.”
“I can see why your husband would be concerned.” John responded.
“Yes, well it has given me a nice holiday here in Boston.” She turned from John to look across the table. “Oh Ms. Woods, I know it is not formal, but I would very much like to invite you to tea on Monday.”
“She would be delighted to join you. Wouldn’t you Ester?” Mrs. Chesterfield spoke up.
John could see from the woman’s expression that she very much did not want Ester joining the Baroness for tea. Her social climbing tendencies however, had her answering for Ester and forcing the younger woman to accept the invitation. He wondered just how much of Ester’s life would be controlled by Mrs. Chesterfield after the wedding.
“Yes, I would be delighted. Thank you so much for your kind invitation.” Ester offered a gracious smile to Lady Wellington as the servant placed the next course down in front of her.
The conversation flowed easily around the table throughout dinner. John found he liked the pretty and witty young Baroness very much. The rest of dinner they conversed on several topics and her intellect impressed him. Unlike most ladies of society, she was very outspoken on her political opinions.
They spoke briefly about the Tithe War that had taken place due to the forced ten percent tithe being forced on Irish people despite their religious affiliation.
“Ms. Woods, what are your opinions on the Tithe Wars in Ireland?” Lady Wellington asked.
“Ester does not have an opinion on such matters. She is more concerned with subjects more fitting a lady,” Charles answered for her.
“I do apologize if I placed you in an uncomfortable position, Ms. Woods.” She took a sip of her wine, then smiled sweetly at Ester. “I tend to forget that any lady with Charles is not allowed to have an opinion or think for herself. It is only what he or his mother says and nothing more.”
Ester blushed and lowered her gaze. Charles face turned red and John could see the veins in the man’s neck bulging. Mrs. Chesterfield glared at Lady Wellington. Oh yes, the lady had hit a nerve with that statement.
“Baroness or not, your rudeness will only be tolerated for so long. You may wish to learn to curb your wayward tongue least you find yourself shunned.” Mrs. Chesterfield said.
“The very thought delights me,” Lady Wellington said with a soft laugh.
The rest of dinner was spent discussing other aspects of politics. The rising tension in the nation was soon brought to the forefront of their conversation. She did not throw opinions out there. Instead he realized that all of her political opinions were formed with careful consideration. He found he truly did admire this woman. Along with her intellectual conversations, her occasional barbs to Charles amused him. Oh yes, his host had picked the perfect place to seat him for dinner.
Chapter 14
John found that he had really enjoyed the party after Mr. Wright had walked up and interrupted Charles’ insulting comments. The look on Charles’ face when Mr. Wright announced that he and John were friends was priceless, like a kid caught snatching a cookie from the kitchen. Dinner had proved to be the highlight of the night with Lady Wellington seated next to him. She didn’t hold the same sentiments that Charles did. Though, Charles’ behavior though was nothing new to him.
The anti-Catholic sentiment in America was strong. Just five short years ago, Levi Boone had been elected mayor of Chicago. Life changed yet again for Catholics such as himself. He watched as non-native born citizens were barred from holding public jobs. However, unspoken, that also applied to native born Catholics as well. Catholic children were forced to read from the King James Bible in an attempt to reform them. He had heard his grandfather speak of terrible times in Ireland between Protestants and Catholics. To John, it was no different here as so many distrusted his kind.
Pulling himself from his thoughts, he finished dressing. It was Monday, and his client had arrived in a few days ago. After discovering John was still in Boston, he demanded a meeting. John would be meeting soon with his client in the hotel dining room. As he adjusted his tie, a pang of guilt hit him. He knew his client was not telling the whole truth. If Ester had the shares, he knew in his heart she didn’t steal them. It was too late though, as Mr. Warner was in Boston and Ester was still here. He should have warned her. Let her know what he had done, but he had held off. Something in him still battled with whether she was innocent or not. It was that battle that hadn’t ended until this morning.
In the dining room, he took a seat across from Mr. Warner. A slight nod was his only greeting. For a brief moment, he wanted to tell the man just what he thought of him. His mother, though, had raised him better than that.
“You do not know how much it means to my mother and I that you have found this woman,” Mr. Warner said as he stirred a bit of sugar into his coffee.
“Well, it is what your hired me to do.” John signaled the waiter. “What puzzles me, though, is that you have yet to have her arrested.” Before Mr. Warner could respond, the waiter walked up and smiled at him. “Just a coffee,” he told him.
“I am eager to have justice served, Mr. O’Brian. However, the local sheriff has said that he needed more proof before he could go and arrest her. I am waiting for my lawyer to get me that proof.”
While his tone had been calm, John could see the anger flash in Mr. Warner’s eyes. His posture had changed from relaxed to rigid. It could very well be that the man was aggravated at having the sheriff not take him at his word and demand proof. Men like Mr. Warner were not used to being told no to anything. But John didn’t think that was all there was to the delay in Ester’s arrest. “I have done what you hired me to do. So, our business is concluded?”
“Yes, of course. I have already paid before I headed here. You are free to return to Chicago, Mr. O’Brian.” William gave a wave of his hand dismissing him.
As he ros
e, he was grateful to be done with this unpleasant business. As he headed back to his room, Ester’s lovely face teased at him mind. The pang of guilt hit him once again. Warning her now would accomplish nothing. At least the sheriff was demanding proof before moving forward. If Mr. Warner had proof, then justice would be served and if he didn’t, then the sheriff would leave Ester alone. So why did he feel like he betrayed a friend?
***
The carriage pulled up the hill towards the house at the top of the tree-lined street. Shrubbery and mature trees surrounded the vast yard. Ester sat up a little straighter, her eyes growing wide at the sheer nature of the house.
When the carriage came to stop in front of the house, the driver helped Ester alight the carriage. Standing she smoothed her dress and stared at the asymmetrical house with big bay windows, balconies, stained glass and turrets. The house appeared to be two stories and the size was overwhelming. The school was slightly larger than this house, but it lacked the architecture this house had. Also, it was a school so while larger its size was not equal because it was not a private dwelling.
Ester raised the large brass knocker that looped through a brass lion’s head. Rapping against the door, she smiled at the butler who ushered her into the grand foyer. He promptly and silently took her coat and gloves before showing her to the drawing room. Ester entered the drawing room with its white wallpaper covered in soft pink roses. The large bay window was adorned with heavy pink drapery that was pulled open to allow the sun to light the room. To the left of the fireplace sat an intimate tea table.
Lady Wellington rose from her seat and met her half way across the room. Leaning in Ester kissed the air next to first her right cheek then her left in a proper greeting.
Lady Wellington grabbed her hand and led her over to the table. “Ms. Woods you remember Mrs. Crandell and Mrs. Tompson?”
She had met Mrs. Crandell at the Buckington Ball that Charles had escorted her to a couple months back. While she was sure Mrs. Tompson had been in attendance she had not been formally introduced until the night of the Governor’s Ball a week later. Charles and his mother had ran interference during both parties and limiting her actual interaction with both women.
“Yes. It is a pleasure to see both of you again.” Ester took the seat offered to her. “Please though call me Ester.” She hoped the kind offer of familiarity would win her some favors with the ladies. After all she was unsure what their thoughts of her were.
“It is a pleasure to see you too Ester. Please call me Linda, we are all sure to be good friends after all,” Mrs. Crandell responded.
“Yes, good friends, I am sure. With that I would be most honored if you called me Abigail,” Mrs. Tompson said.
They had just invited to call them by their given names. Something reserved for family and close friends. Their good opinion of her would surely change if they knew the truth about her. She wanted so much to draw close to these ladies, to be a true friend to them. Friendships however, meant questions and confidences she dare not invite. She would however, play the part today. The same as she did anytime she was invited to a ball or afternoon tea.
Lady Wellington took the small delicate china cup from the saucer and dispensed hot tea from the ornate tea dispenser sitting on the table. Carefully she placed it back on the saucer in front of Ester. On a small matching china plate sat a small triangle of sweet toast covered in a brown substance, Ester hoped was a type of jam. Lifting the tiny cup, she took a tentative sip. The strong woodsy taste played on her taste buds as a slight hint of orange began to take over. It was an unusual taste. Nothing unpleasant but not like any tea she had tasted before.
“Ester please tell me more about your school,” Lady Wellington said after a few moments.
“I am not sure what you would like to know. I help to educate girls and ensure they leave as intelligent proper ladies.” She sat her tea cup back on the saucer. Oddly, she wished at this moment that Mrs. Chesterfield was here to run interference. She was unsure what to say about the school that would be considered acceptable.
“I heard talk that Charles is not too happy with your school,” Lady Wellington continued.
“Charles feels that the type of girls accepted to the school are not the right type of girls. That I am wasting time on them.”
“I think what you do is wonderful. I mean you take in those lesser and help them. Very charitable,” Mrs. Tompson said.
“Thank you. I try and offer an education to girls who are in most need. Who without the school would not know how to properly behave as a lady.” There she did it. She spoke openly and honestly and so far these ladies seemed to think more highly of her. Maybe talking about the school and the girls she was educating didn’t have a right or wrong response.
“I agree it is wonderful what you are doing. Charity is after all very important for a lady,” Lady Wellington said.
“I fear though that charity will end once Charles and I are wed. He is insistent that I only allow the girls from proper Boston society into the school.”
“I can see the man’s point on such a matter. I for one would not want any daughter of mine living and studying next to a charity case,” Mrs. Crandell said. “However, I do not mean to speak out of turn, but might I offer a suggestion?”
Ester nodded and was eager to hear what ever suggestion Mrs. Crandell had to offer up. Butterflies began to take flight in her stomach in contrast to her eagerness. What if the other woman felt the same way that Charles did? How could she handle having his feelings also expressed by another member of polite society? She needed to fit in and to go against a suggestion made by someone of Mrs. Crandell’s status would surely hurt her standing in society.
“Well I am not sure how much you would want to do this. Hear me out though. What if you were to split the school. One side would be for the girls of polite society and the other side would continue to offer an education to those less fortunate?”
“Mrs. Crandell…I mean Linda, that is an excellent idea. I had never thought of it that way.” The butterflies began to settle. She was so grateful for the other woman’s thoughtful suggestion. She had never thought that there would be a way in which to educate the girls she knew so desperately needed her school and cater to elite girls as well.
“I agree it is an excellent idea. Surely Charles would agree as well.” Mrs. Tompson said.
“Knowing Charles, the way I do, I doubt he would go for such a suggestion. That man has a distain for anyone who is not of his status.” Lady Wellington said with a hint of hatred lacing her words.
“You truly dislike that man,” Mrs. Crandell said giving a soft laugh.
“Alice was your friend too Linda.” Lady Wellington stated.
“That is true she was a very dear friend. We grew up together. Her death was such a shame.” Mrs. Crandell gave a shake of her head. “I truly thought that the truth of her death would come out and he would be punished for what he did to that sweet girl.”
“How can you be sure Charles did anything to cause her death?” Ester asked. The Charles she knew was a bit snobbish, but he was no murderer.
“Even if he didn’t cause her death, he still did not treat her kindly. He only married her for her money then treated her like a burden.” Mrs. Tompson said.
The conversation turned to her upcoming wedding, Ester could offer very little details. It pained her to inform them that Mrs. Chesterfield was in control of everything. She merely would show up and do her small part of saying I Do. When the conversation quickly switched to more pleasant topics, Ester was grateful. She no longer wished to discuss anything to do with Charles or the wedding. Talk about the Christmas season that would bring several balls lifted Ester’s spirits. All four ladies were invited to the same balls and decided to coordinate their party dresses. Never had she had this kind of a friendship with other women of her age. It made her heart feel full and her spirits soared when the tea came to an end.
Chapter 15
Ester sat in her off
ice on Tuesday contemplating the sermon she had sat through on Sunday. The preacher had spoken of the sins of money. It weighed on her that what she was doing was sinning. She was compromising her beliefs in order to marry Charles all for her inheritance money. She picked up her quill and penned a letter to Charles expressing her apologies but explaining why she must call off the wedding. She simply could not marry a man that was so different from her.
With a guttural growl, she wadded the letter up and tossed it into the waste bin next to her desk. She thought back to the conversation at Lady Wellington’s the day before. The three women there were of the mindset that Charles had possibly killed his first wife. Even if innocent they detested him for the way he treated his first wife. Grabbing another sheet of paper, she held her quill above it, ready to pen a new letter. Shoving the quill back into the ink well, she folded her hands on top of her desk. What was she thinking? She could not call off the wedding through a letter like a coward. She owed him the decency of telling him in person.
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