The Cautious Maiden

by Dawn Crandall

  I fought back happy tears. “You can’t be serious. This is mine?”

  “Just wait until you see inside, you might change your mind about how great it is once you see—”

  “Show me.”

  “Just a minute. I’d rather we waited until Mrs. Applegate and her assistant arrive to go inside.”

  “Oh, of course.”

  While we waited I couldn’t take my eyes off of Fairstone, and Vance continued to hold my hand. The warmth of his skin through my glove was comforting, and yet also somewhat possessive. And I liked that. I wanted to possess him just as equally, but would I?

  He’d only just opened up and given me a tiny taste of what it would be like to be his; telling me so candidly that he’d also become fully aware that something more than we’d either expected was happening between us.

  We didn’t have to wait long for Mrs. Applegate and her assistant to show up. They both seemed as equally excited to see the torn-up interior of Fairstone as I was.

  Vance guided us to the main entrance, unlocked the door and led us into the empty mansion. And I quickly realized he hadn’t been jesting about the mess. The walls were bare, the wood floor was covered with debris and there wasn’t a stick of furniture. The large staircase went up the right side of the main hall and then turned to the left to meet the second level.

  And there was so much to do.

  How would it ever be finished by mid-May?

  “It’s quite a project, wouldn’t you say?” Vance whispered in my ear. “It’s been stripped of almost everything from before, and is ready to be recreated into something better. Will you help me, Violet? Are you up for the challenge?”

  I had a feeling Vance wasn’t actually talking about Fairstone at all, but himself.

  Is that what he felt like inside? An empty shell of a glorious mansion? That when he’d become a Christian, everything he used to be had been cleansed and stripped away, leaving only the remnants of the true man God had in mind all along for me to discover?

  I didn’t know what had happened since earlier that week to make Vance behave so differently regarding me, but I wasn’t about to complain either. If he wanted my help in any way, I would be at his service.

  “I would be more than happy to, Vance.” I took his hand in mine again. “Just lead the way.”

  13

  The Tea Rooms

  “Happiness is like a butterfly which, when pursued,

  is always beyond our grasp,

  but, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.”

  —Nathaniel Hawthorne

  Saturday, April 23rd, 1892

  The Propylaeum, the tea room at which Vance had been so considerate to arrange for me to meet Aunt Letty and Mabel a week later, ended up being about halfway between Back Bay and South Boston. And I’d decided to invite Miss Claudine Abernathy and Roxy to join us since I had a feeling they would get along with my relatives.

  Vance’s carriage had dropped the three of us off at the tea rooms around four-thirty, and we sat there for about five minutes before Aunt Letty and Mabel came through the front door to join us.

  “This is a lovely place; I’ve never been here before,” Aunt Letty divulged once everyone was introduced and took their seats. “I have heard of it though. Your fiancé has excellent taste, Violet.”

  The waitress began to serve us our first tea with cucumber sandwiches.

  After she’d gone, Miss Abernathy lifted her teacup; but before she took a sip, she said, “Vance had actually asked me to suggest a meeting place, Mrs. Hawthorne, but I’m glad you approve of my choice. It is a favorite of mine. And I’m so glad you asked us to join you, dear.” She’d turned to me for this last part. “I had no idea you thought of inviting us along when I suggested it.”

  “I’d—well, I wasn’t actually aware that Vance had made the inquiry of you, Miss Abernathy. But I’m glad you could come to enjoy one of your favorite places. It is wonderful.”

  It was actually more than wonderful. It was exquisite. For being simple tea rooms housed in a brick Queen Anne style mansion, it had all the dark elegance of Everwood inside.

  “Roxy, how do you like The Propylaeum? Aren’t you glad we came?” Miss Abernathy asked.

  “It’s beautiful,” was all Roxy answered.

  When it was clear that this conversation was going nowhere, I took a few cucumber sandwiches from the serving dish and collected them onto my plate. “Did you bring a cab, or do you have a carriage waiting, Aunt Letty?” I asked.

  “My brother, Cal—whom Violet has yet to meet—dropped us off on his way out of town.” Mabel answered for her mother. “He’ll be back for us by six o’clock.”

  “What does Cal do for a living?” I asked, truly curious, since Vance had wondered. “We never discussed much about him last week.”

  “He does something with horse auctions here in Boston.” Mabel clinked her teacup gently into its saucer. “I’m not really sure what, but it’s the reason we moved here from Westborough four years ago.”

  Mabel didn’t seem to be in near as delightful mood as she’d been while Vance and I had visited their home. It hadn’t been too noticeable until this mention of her brother’s job. Or maybe it had to do with their move to Boston? She had to have only been around thirteen or fourteen years old when they’d relocated.

  Mabel’s grayish-blue eyes nervously took in our surroundings, and then over and over I watched as they landed upon the open entrance to the next room, as if she were watching for something—or someone.

  Roxy stuffed the last of a cucumber sandwich into her mouth, and when she was finished chewing, she said, “That sounds interesting. I mean about the horse auctions. I have a horse named Pip. My brother paid to have her brought down—along with his—on the train.”

  She was a rather shy young woman, and this was more than I’d ever expected her to say—but then I quickly wondered if that would be the extent of her contribution, so that outgoing Miss Abernathy wouldn’t be able to criticize her about not participating.

  “I’ve never been to a horse auction, have you, Violet?” she continued.

  “Father and Ezra always took care of things like that. I’ve never had a horse for riding, but I’ve always wanted to try.”

  The conversation became awkward from there, as I couldn’t help but be distracted by Mabel’s gazing off toward the doorway. What was she looking for? I was beginning to regret combining my two worlds so soon. Perhaps I ought to have waited to get to know Mabel more on a private level before taking her out to place where she obviously didn’t feel comfortable.

  “I don’t especially care for horses,” Miss Abernathy said decidedly. “But dogs! Now that’s another matter entirely!”

  Aunt Letty gave a little coo of delight and launched into the virtues of her own dearly departed canine. As they discovered they were both seriously in the market for a puppy, the conversation effortlessly piled onto itself, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

  With absolutely nothing to contribute on the subject, I glanced about the room. My gaze landed on Mabel’s empty doorway, and I thought I saw Rowen Steele.

  Or, at least half of Rowen Steele. Well, half of his face as he peaked around the doorframe and then disappeared.

  Had it really been him, or was my imagination playing tricks on me because of Mabel’s strange behavior? It seemed to have looked just like the same person in the lumber pamphlet Vance had shown me.

  Suddenly I wished I’d kept the pamphlet; that I’d had it stuffed in my reticule so I could stealthily take it out and compare. It couldn’t really be him, could it? How would he know I’d be at The Propylaeum Tea Rooms in Boston on a Saturday afternoon? And what did he plan to do, if it was him?

  Just as I was about to suggest to everyone that we leave earlier than planned, a hand cradled the back of my left shoulder. I jumped in my seat so drastically I almost spilled my tea before practically dropping the cup to its saucer.

  “Vance!” Miss Abernathy was the f
irst to speak—and immediately put my mind at ease. “Here, pull up the seat next to Violet.”

  He had placed his hand on my shoulder for a brief moment—only long enough to unexpectedly terrify me—and then had gone in short search of an extra seat to add to the table. I was still visibly shaking when he brought his chair next to mine and sat down.

  “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to scare you.” He leaned slightly toward me, not trying to whisper at all.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I was in the area, and I couldn’t help but stop to see you.”

  “Of course you couldn’t,” Miss Abernathy said, obviously having heard our not-so-quiet discussion. She winked at me, smiling giddily. “I do love Violet for you, Vance. I’m so glad you love her too.”

  I nearly choked on the bite of a scone I’d taken to keep from having to acknowledge her wink. Once I was able to swallow, I said, “I was just thinking we were about finished.”

  Mabel pouted. “Are we? It’s only a little after five o’clock, and Cal won’t be back for us until six.” She’d stopped looking at the doorway where I’d thought I’d seen Rowen Steele, but that, I had a strong suspicion, was because Vance was sitting beside me and had effectively caught her attention. Half the ladies in the room were looking at him, in fact.

  “Let’s not leave yet. We haven’t even made it to the pastries and truffles.” Aunt Letty looked at the slip of paper describing the courses. “The desserts are the best part of having tea out like this.”

  “Oh yes, the pastries and truffles! We must stay.” Miss Abernathy slowly spread some jam over a scone. “We aren’t in a hurry, are we? Just because Vance is here, and now all you want is to be with him.” She smirked, knowingly. “I really cannot blame you though; he is quite the catch.”

  I suddenly felt as if I were suffocating between the five of them; all of them staring at me, thinking Vance and I were happily in love and engaged because of that. And it was all based on lies. Or mostly lies, at least.

  “Perhaps I just need some air. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be back in a minute.” Leaving my gloves and reticule in my chair, I slipped from my seat and left the table.

  Vance stood as I did, but he didn’t follow me the short distance to the main entrance. I exited to the porch which extended around the front corner of the house with a wide circular area intended for a large gathering. There were a few tables and chairs there, but the outdoor seating had obviously not yet been open for service for the spring and summer months.

  After taking a seat and relishing a few deep breaths, I tried to settle my nerves. I leisurely examined the intricate woodworking that made up the painted trim of the porch, but at a movement behind the curtains at a window along the side porch, I realized how foolish I’d been to go out there alone. What if it really had been Rowen—?

  I stood and hurried back around the corner of the house to the front door—and found Vance coming outside. I refrained from propelling myself into his arms, but just barely.

  What did it matter that he didn’t love me yet? He was still my guardian and protector, and really, there wasn’t anyone I felt safer with. I’d always been a cautious one with my feelings, and it still stunned me how he’d been able to—with his frankness and honesty—get me to a place where I trusted him so completely.

  He closed the door behind him. “Did you like the tea room?”

  “Yes, but I’m not very well-studied in the art of socializing.” I reached up and grabbed hold of the nearest post, for lack of anything better to do. “It’s been awkward at times.”

  “You’ll get used to it before long, Violet.” Vance took a few steps to close the distance between us and took a seat against the railing a few feet from me. “Claudine and your aunt seem to get along. Were they talking about puppies? And Roxy and Mabel both seem about your age, right?”

  Well, at least one of them was, and I became suddenly curious about how old Vance thought I was. He couldn’t have been much older than me, but his comment made me think he definitely thought me much younger.

  “How old do you think that is?”

  “I don’t know; eighteen?”

  “Really?” It was no wonder he’d treated me with so much precaution. He really thought I was as young as that? “Mabel might be eighteen, but I think Roxy’s around the same age as Estella, and me. I’m twenty-three.”

  “Are you really?”

  “I wouldn’t say twenty-three is decrepit, but does it matter?”

  “I’m actually relieved to hear you’re not eighteen. At least, in a way.” He crossed his arms over his mid-section and grimaced, and I wasn’t sure how to take that.

  “And how old are you?” I asked, moving a step closer, dragging my hand along the rail he sat upon.

  “Twenty-eight, at the end of next September.”

  “You thought there was nearly a decade between us?” I stepped closer, testing his resolve. “Five years difference is better, isn’t it? You must have thought me to be such a baby.”

  “Not exactly a baby, but it didn’t really matter how old you were at first; you needed my help, and so I gave it. Your being years older than I thought does make me feel better about…our engagement.”

  I wondered if this revelation about my age would help loosen the rein he’d put on himself regarding our relationship. Now that he knew I was twenty-three and not eighteen, would it make a difference? I hoped so.

  “Let’s sit a while, away from the others. I don’t think they’ll mind.” Vance stood, took my hand and guided me to where the tables and chairs were situated. He then helped me into a seat facing the side porch, took the seat across from me and didn’t let go of my hand. Though I’d seen him smile before, none of the other times compared to how he virtually beamed now.

  I willingly gave him my other hand, my heart soaring from this sudden attentiveness…and the fact that he’d stopped by in the first place, just to see me; that he hadn’t been able to stay away. “I don’t think they would mind at all.”

  Again, without asking anything in return, he gave so much. His warm blackish-brown eyes took their time as they seemingly burrowed into my soul, comforting me in ways no one had ever dared try before. Not even my parents who had always made me feel wanted and loved, had made me feel quite like this.

  And it made me feel safe enough to confide in him: “Vance, I think I saw Rowen Steele in the tea room.”

  His dark eyes changed drastically at this. For once, he actually looked angry at me. “What are you still doing here, then? Why are you out here?” His grip on my hands grew stronger. “Is that really why you wanted to leave? What did he do?”

  “If it was him at all, he merely looked at me from around the doorframe of the next room. But I’m not certain. It might even have been my imagination. Mabel kept acting strangely and looking that way, so I might have worked myself up into thinking someone was watching us.”

  “Violet, how long ago was this?”

  “Right before you came up to the table.”

  “If it was him, he likely saw me come in and is long gone by now.”

  “Good,” I sighed, relieved to hear such logic from him.

  “I wish you’d told me sooner—”

  “Would you have gone after him?”

  “I would have; and I would have made sure he never wanted to see your face ever again. Or mine.”

  “How would you have done that?”

  “Let’s just say, he would have been thoroughly persuaded, and leave it at that, shall we?”

  The main entrance to the tea rooms burst open and Mabel raced through, huffing for breath, “Violet, Mr. Everstone! Come quickly, Mother isn’t feeling well at all.”

  Vance stood, bringing me to my feet as he did, and hurried us inside behind Mabel. Many of the people who had been sitting, having their tea, were now standing around, giving Roxy room to situate Aunt Letty onto the floor. Miss Abernathy—who was well over sixty years old—remained in her seat, a hand over her
worried mouth.

  Crouched beside Roxy, Vance asked, “What is it? What happened?”

  “She started saying ridiculous things that didn’t make sense, and then she grew faint, holding onto her shoulder as if it pained her. And now look at her, she’s burning up.”

  “Mrs. Hawthorne?” Vance asked gently, “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes, Mr. Everstone, but I’m feeling so weak. Do you think you can manage a way to get me home?”

  “Of course, that was going to be my first suggestion. Do you have a carriage outside?” This was directed more to Mabel than my aunt, but they both answered in the negative.

  “We’ll take you in mine. Roxy, please alert my groom that we need the carriage. You’ll see the Everstone crest on the side.”

  Roxy obeyed Vance without a word, running out the door.

  For the first time since coming into the room, Vance took his eyes off of my aunt, his gaze searching the crowd until it landed on me. He reached up, took my hand and pulled me down to kneel beside him. “I’m not taking her all the way to South Boston like this. I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to have my family’s personal physician examine her.”

  Aunt Letty heard this, and whimpered, “Oh no, I couldn’t afford that—”

  “I’ll take care of it, Mrs. Hawthorne; you just focus on staying alert. We don’t need you to faint on the way there.”

  Mabel reached for her mother’s outstretched hand. “But Cal is supposed to collect us from The Propylaeum around six o’clock.”

  “We’ll leave a message for him with the staff in hope that he’ll join us at Dr. Meade’s house, and then eventually be able to take his mother and sister home from there.” Vance helped Mabel lift her mother to her feet. “Assuming she feels well enough to go home.”

  “Roxy and I will come along in the carriage to Dr. Meade’s house. We wouldn’t want there to be a chance that you and Violet would be left to travel across town in the dark, alone,” Miss Abernathy stood with the help of her cane. “I know, I know, you’re engaged already, but I would feel better if I could come.”