The Cautious Maiden

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The Cautious Maiden Page 12

by Dawn Crandall


  “My cousins. It must be her.” I stared up into his face, waiting for him to look down at me again, but he wouldn’t. He faced the door, apparently ready for the conversation to be over. “How far away is South Boston from here?” I asked, more to continue the conversation than from a real desire for the information. “Is it a respectable part of town?”

  “It is no great distance from Back Bay. The house is relatively new; they live in one side and rent the other. I gather that’s where the majority of their income comes from, for I can’t seem to find much out about your cousin Cal Hawthorne, or what exactly he does.”

  “You haven’t met them yet?”

  “I thought it best to take you with me to meet them.”

  “That’s probably best. Should we tell them we’re engaged to be married?”

  “Yes, but I would definitely refrain from explaining exactly why. My goal is to keep the rumors from flying. Dexter’s done his best in trying to contain them, but you never know.” He finally glanced my way for the first time since running for the door. “Do you think your relatives know about how Ezra turned your mother’s home into a brothel?”

  “Heavens, I hope not. I doubt it, though.”

  “Good. We’ll make our initial visit to them soon.”

  “Already?”

  “There’s nothing more to wait for, is there?”

  “I’m unsure how receptive they’ll be. I’ve never met them; they only know of me through my mother’s correspondence with my aunt years ago, which I’ll be sure to bring.”

  “Good idea.” With that, he took my hand, opened the door and led me down the hall. And didn’t say another blessed thing to me all night.

  12

  Recreations

  “Who can map out the various forces at play in one soul?

  Man is a great depth, O Lord.

  The hairs of his head are easier by far to count than his feeling,

  the movements of his heart.”

  —Saint Augustine

  Saturday, April 16th, 1892

  A few days later, upon coming from spending the morning in my room writing a new book and scribbling out a few practice drawings, I met Vance coming toward the head of the intricately carved staircase from the south wing.

  He had been coming around a bit more than he had before, but I’d never known him to be home at such an odd time of the day. He still needed to be away at Everstone Square much of the time, organizing business concerning Greaghan Lumber. He would sometimes come home at midday for lunch, but then often not be home in time for dinner.

  Without a word, Vance stopped me from continuing on down the stairs. First he did so with the uncommon look of delight in his eyes from spotting me, and then as he came up to me, a gentle caress just above my wrist, which then turned into him cupping my elbow, and then quickly sliding his hand about my waist.

  Just as he had for Ava Cagney, but no one was there to see now.

  Which confused me.

  “If you want to get your aunt’s letters, I can take you to meet her this morning. I’ve already written to her, and she’s expecting us any day now, and later I’ve arranged to have someone meet us at Fairstone to discuss what to do—”

  “You want to go right now?”

  “Did you have other plans?”

  “Not exactly. I’m just not prepared. Can we go some other time instead?”

  “Why? You’re dressed, your hair has been properly taken care of—your maid has done a much better job than I did, wouldn’t you agree?”

  I fingered the messy strands escaping from behind my ear. “Bessy is quite talented, especially for having to deal with the shortness.”

  But oh, how I would have preferred to have his fingers in my hair instead of hers, every morning.

  “I only have today, Violet. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you before, but I’d figured you’d be happy to get out of the house with me.” He brought his other hand around the back of my waist, bringing me face to face, tugging me closer. I wasn’t exactly alarmed—only unsure of what to do in return. Would he turn on me again if I responded back?

  “I am; I’ve been looking forward to it.” I placed my hands gently on his forearms, taking in the rich texture of his suit and glanced down the stairs. And there I saw the reason for all the pomp and show. Natalia had come through the main hall below and had stopped to watch us.

  “I’m busy the whole rest of the week. If we don’t take advantage of today, we might have to wait another few weeks.” He slid his fingers into the crook of my arm and guided me around the railing toward the north wing, where, as he obviously knew, my bedroom was located.

  I didn’t really know what to think of that.

  Not that I hadn’t also gathered exactly where Vance’s room was. It was difficult to avoid the preoccupation I had with wanting to know what he was really like, deep down, apart from everyone else, and apart from all the things that any friend or acquaintance could tell made up the man he’d become. I wanted to know so much more. Having him lead me to my bedroom didn’t help these overwhelming feelings.

  He stopped guiding me some ways from my door, and still in plain view of Natalia through the ornate wood railing. “Bring your books too; I’d like to squeeze in an introduction to a friend of mine who happens to be an editor for a publisher based out of Philadelphia.”

  That made me want to run to the security of my room and not come out. “I can’t show an editor my books. They aren’t good enough.”

  “Isn’t it your goal to have them published? How will that ever happen if you don’t show someone who matters?”

  “Can I at least show them to you first? You might change your mind after you see them.”

  “Very well; get them, along with your aunt’s letters to your mother. I’ll look at your books, and then we will leave.”

  I walked to my room, nervous because I knew Vance’s eyes followed me all the way to my door. Inside, I gathered my gloves, reticule, a hat to quickly pin on, my aunt’s letters and the one book I’d told Vance I’d show him when we were on the train. It was my favorite one—the one I figured anyone would like best.

  When I returned to the hall, my arms laden with everything I needed to bring, Vance met me by the stairs. Natalia was no longer studying us from below, and he simply took my box of letters and headed down the steps, apparently expecting me to follow.

  “Vance,” I called after him softly as I followed, “Please take a look at my book before we leave. There’s no sense in taking it if—”

  He swiveled around to me at the bottom of the two flights of stairs. “Oh yes, let me see.” He traded me the box of letters for the book and immediately opened it to flip through the pages. And then he stopped. “You painted these pictures, and came up with this story all on your own?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you gave this same story about the fox to Wynn before she left?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s touching, and perfect.”

  “Perfect?”

  “For Wynn, and for my friend to see.”

  “What publisher does your friend work for?”

  “Lippencott.”

  “No.”

  “No…what?”

  “I’m not going to show someone from Lippencott my silly books.”

  “You’ll never be published if you don’t. And you said it’s what you want more than anything.” Vance reached up and tapped the edge of my book to my nose. “He’s not scary.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Quinn Culver.”

  I took the book from Vance and again handed him the letters.

  “Violet, I promise he’ll love this. I don’t know much about children’s books, but I bet Wynn loved it.”

  “She was thrilled. And Meredyth saw it too, and told me she liked it better than most of the books Wynn already had.”

  “Well then. You’re ready. Let’s go.” He took my hand and walked me out the front door.

  ***

/>   A while later Vance’s carriage brought us to a quaint, double, side-by-side house in South Boston. Its wood siding was painted red, and it had six black-shuttered windows on the second level, four on the first, and two impressive dark wooden front doors situated at the center where the two living quarters met. There was a flat covered porch over them and a tall flight of steps with a decorative metal rail dividing them in half. It had taken quite a while to get there, and Vance had spent most of the time describing Fairstone to me and then asking my opinion about certain ideas regarding redecorating it.

  Honestly, that was what I was most looking forward to all day—seeing Fairstone for the first time! I still wasn’t especially excited to see my estranged aunt, nervous that she wouldn’t care a fig about me. Not that I knew why it mattered. It didn’t, really. And the editor, Mr. Culver…I was still quite anxious about that meeting. I wished I’d had more time to prepare!

  Vance knocked on the door to the right side of the house. A housekeeper answered, and I immediately noticed that the inside was just as quaint as the outside. I hadn’t known what to expect, but I’d been a little afraid I would be embarrassed for Vance to see how my relatives might live. I really didn’t have a clue. What if they were more like Ezra than me?

  We made our introductions to the housekeeper, handing her our calling cards. She then took our things and led us through the front hall past the tall straight staircase and stopped at the entrance of a front parlor. “A Mr. Everstone and a Miss Hawthorne to see you, ma’am.”

  When Vance and I walked into the room and I immediately saw that my aunt was much younger than my parents had been when they died.

  She stood and took my hands. “Violet, dear! It must be you! I can see the resemblance right now! You look so like my own daughter, your cousin Mabel! And this must be your fiancé who was so good to write to me on your behalf. It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Everstone. I suppose you’re somehow related to the Everstones who live in Back Bay, are you? It’s not a common name—”

  “In fact, Bram Everstone is my father, ma’am.”

  My aunt had stopped speaking mid-sentence at this information, her mouth still opened to form her next word, which seemed to be somewhat lost to her. Finally, after some seconds, she said, “Well! An Everstone! Congratulations! It’s so good to meet both of you! I’ve always wanted to meet you, Violet, I just couldn’t spare the trouble for a trip to Maine. It is so far away.”

  “It is far, isn’t it?” I conceded. “This is actually the first time I’ve been away from the general area I grew up. I wasn’t sure where you lived until lately.”

  She led us to a sofa where Vance and I both sat, while she took a seat on a chaise longue across from us, not hiding her admiration as she simply stared. “You are a handsome couple; you’ll have beautiful children one day.”

  Vance cleared his throat, and I shifted beside him.

  “Thank you. I hope so, Aunt Letty.” And after a little pause, to collect myself further, I added, “I was unable to inform you last year, my mother seems to have lost track of your whereabouts over the years—”

  “How is your mother? I have to admit, I never got back into my habit of writing when we moved here from Westborough. My joints have been giving me such pain, and Mabel won’t sit still for half a minute to help me—”

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you this….”

  Vance stealthily took my now bare hand, stretching my fingers to entwine his in between them. I curled my fingers over his knuckles, the sensation effectively distracting me from what I needed to say. I swallowed before going on, “My mother and father both passed away last winter.”

  “You don’t say.” Letty’s smile immediately vanished, and I could see tears glisten over her pretty green eyes. “I’m sorry.” She dabbed at her eyelashes with her handkerchief. “I’m so sorry, Violet. And I’m sorry I didn’t stay in touch. You’ve probably had an awful time of it; what have you been doing with yourself before your heroic fiancé came along to save you?”

  Her words couldn’t have been truer if she’d known the entire story of those last few weeks.

  “I worked at a nearby hotel. And I was happy. It wasn’t a bad year.” I squeezed Vance’s hand. “But I’m glad it’s over.”

  “And your brother, Ezra? What’s he up to? Married and living in your maternal grandparent’s house, I suppose?”

  “Um, I’m not sure exactly what Ezra’s up to these days. I haven’t seen him much lately.” I didn’t like lying, but there was absolutely no way to tell the truth. No respectable person would claim such a brother.

  “But who has your mother’s house then? She did love that place. I didn’t imagine you’d ever want to move away, but I do see why you might for the sake of marrying your Mr. Everstone.”

  “The house has been lost to me.” I nearly choked on my words, and quickly moved on to say, “I’ve had to part with it, but like you said, I’ve made a fair exchange. I have Vance now.”

  And how I wished it were really true.

  “So you’ll be staying in Boston?”

  “I just bought Violet a house on Dartmouth. I’m going to take her there to see it today for the first time, in fact.”

  “Dartmouth! Heavens! I should say, Violet! A fair exchange, indeed!”

  The front door opened before I could answer, and I heard someone hurry into the front hall with hard little steps, a woman’s steps.

  “Mother? Are you downstairs?”

  Aunt Letty reached her arm along the back of the chaise longue, toward the entrance to the hall. “Do come in here, Mabel. I’d like you to meet your cousin Violet and her fiancé.”

  A second later, Mabel Hawthorne stood in the doorway, and I was presented with someone who looked more like me than I could have ever imagined. Except she was about four or five years younger than I and her gorgeous blonde locks were long and perfectly pinned and piled into the sort of style I wouldn’t be able to wear for years. And I didn’t know if it was just her hair, but I was sure anyone would say she was the prettier of the two of us. By far.

  After we were all formally introduced, I could tell that Mabel couldn’t help but sneak in a glance at Vance every so often. Not only because of who he was, but because he did look quite phenomenal.

  I certainly couldn’t blame her. I knew exactly how she felt. It always had been hard to keep my eyes off of him. I’d had months and months of practice while at Everston by then, and now it didn’t even matter. I probably could have looked at him to my heart’s content whenever I wanted and everyone would have simply thought I was quite besotted with my fiancé.

  Because I basically was.

  But I did strive to control it. I didn’t need to act like a fool just because he was the most attractive man I’d ever seen.

  And I was going to marry him.

  Vance hadn’t held my hand since Mabel had come into the room, but I gave him a quick look and found his eyes on me. He seemed genuinely happy that I’d found some of my own people, and that they were respectable. Well, at least Aunt Letty and Cousin Mabel were. I still had an inane fear that my cousin Cal would be just like Ezra.

  We’d stayed at Aunt Letty’s house much longer than either of us had expected, and ended up not having time to see his friend, Mr. Culver, before Vance’s scheduled appointment with the interior decorator at Fairstone.

  On the ride back to Dartmouth Street, I couldn’t help but smile. Vance sat across from me—the seat he took every time he and I were in a carriage together, whether alone or with others—equally delighted, it seemed, for he too was smiling.

  I was content just having a moment to recall the time I’d had with my aunt and cousin, and how it felt so good to be with people whom I actually belonged. While I did so, Vance took out my book about the fox and studied it quite extensively.

  Eventually, after much quiet thought—and I could tell we were getting closer to Back Bay—I said, “And to think, if it weren’t for Rowen Steele’s bet and Ezra’s meddl
ing, I would never have had the chance to meet Aunt Letty or Mabel.”

  “Don’t forget about my part in this happy occurrence. If it weren’t for your engagement to me, and my thorough search for them in the first place—it really wasn’t that difficult—but would you have ever dared come down to Massachusetts in order to start your search if it weren’t for me?”

  “No. And you’re right. I owe everything to you, for first caring enough to keep me safe from Rowen Steele, and then for all this.” I lifted my hands to indicate the carriage surrounding us and everything that meant besides.

  “It’s become much more involved than I ever thought it would.” He sent me a clever grin from across the carriage, his eyes suddenly taking in everything about me from head to toe. “But it isn’t bad, what’s happened—what’s happening between us.”

  “No. It’s not bad,” I added, shyly, my heart soaring at his half-amorous admission.

  Just then the carriage stopped. The groom quickly stepped down from his seat and opened the door. “Fairstone, sir.”

  Oh, how I wished I’d begun that conversation sooner! Had he only said as much because he’d realized how close we were to being interrupted?

  Vance stepped out of the carriage and then helped me down, not giving me any indication that he’d heard my last words. But then my eyes took in the amazing building in front of me.

  Fairstone.

  I didn’t know how to describe the limestone mansion besides to say it was beautiful…perfection…everything I could have asked for and never dreamed of having.

  And absolutely too big. At least for the likes of me.

  It towered three stories above the street. I couldn’t explain the tingling emotions running through me that made me want to dance, scream with excitement, and kiss Vance until he didn’t know what to do, all at the same time.

  When Vance suddenly took my hand and slid his fingers between mine for the second time that day, I realized I’d been staring up at the grand house ever since setting foot on the sidewalk.

  “Do you like it?” He practically chuckled.

 

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