by Jocelyn Kirk
Elena wanted to ask more questions, but Megan urged her to retire to their chamber. “Come, Miss Bellwood, I will assist you with your unpacking. Your maid’s unwell, and I think it likely that you’ve never hung up a gown in your life.”
Elena laughed. “That is very true, and except for tonight, I have no intention of ever doing it again. I think Willa quite mad to prefer farm work to helping me with my gowns, but if that is her choice, I’ll hire someone else.”
Rosalie and Megan stared at her. “I-I am surprised to hear you speak so,” Megan began. “From what you told me of your finances—”
Rosalie interrupted. “My dear Elena, I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but you will not have a personal maid in this household. You must learn to care for your own clothing.”
“Of…of…course,” whispered Elena, with tears in her eyes. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Rosalie put an arm about her shoulders. “I’m sorry, love, that your life has been turned upside down. But you’ll come in time to appreciate your new life, I feel sure of it.”
“Of course I will.” She forced a smile. “And now, Miss Garrick, I await your first lesson in gown storage!”
When Elena and Megan emerged from their chamber an hour later, they found Rosalie and Bramble in the kitchen. Rosalie was stirring a boiling pot of potatoes, and Bramble was dispatching a large beef bone with raw meat hanging from it. Elena shivered as she watched him gnawing the huge bone and tearing shreds of meat off it, but he looked back at her nonchalantly and thumped his tail.
Elena had never cooked anything in her life except a cup of tea, but she was able to slice bread, butter it, and arrange it on a plate. When that was done, she watched Megan sauté mushrooms in an iron skillet, adding herbs and fish fillets when the mushrooms had softened. Rosalie lifted the chicken from the oven, pulled down a platter, and carved the bird, reserving gristly bits for Bramble.
When the men appeared and dinner was served, Elena was surprised at her feeling of pride as the meal was praised. How silly to take pride in the preparation of a simple meal—she, who was once the most popular debutante in New York City!
But her wayward thoughts would not be squelched. Perhaps she’d been taking pride in the wrong things. Here was her aunt, running a shop and a farm on her own, while Elena had been sitting in one New York parlor after another making silly conversation with women who could not work in a shop or cook a meal if their lives depended on it.
When dinner was over, they assembled in the parlor and, after looking out the windows and remarking on the depth of the snow, seated themselves. Rosalie passed around an after-dinner liqueur with a delightful orange flavor and everyone accepted. Elena felt a bit guilty for drinking sherry in the afternoon, wine at dinner, and now liqueur, for her mother had allowed her no more than a half glass of wine thinned with water at dinner.
“Too much wine makes a girl plump and silly,” she had scolded, “and no debutante can afford to be either of those things.”
But here she was, a hundred miles from home and sitting in a parlor over a bookshop with a strange aunt who gathered herbs and owned a wolf. The thought made her giggle, and she saw Ben glance at her in surprise.
“Rosalie,” he said, “I know this is an imposition, but would you be kind enough to play to us? This has been such a delightful day and promises to be a delightful evening—music would make it perfect.”
“I certainly shall. And if you’re so inclined, we might find enough room here for dancing.”
Elena opened her mouth to speak her shock at such a plan—dancing in a parlor with sailors and maids and wolves, good heavens! What would Prudence say to this?—but stopped herself, afraid to offend her aunt.
The first song was a lively country dance, and Willa clapped while the other four skipped their way through the steps, laughing when one of them went awry. When it was over, they collapsed into their seats, but Rosalie began to play a tender waltz that floated effortlessly from the piano. James Scott, doing an imitation of a fine gentleman, bowed to Megan and led her to the floor. A little thrill ran through Elena’s spine, for it was inevitable that Ben would ask her to dance. She saw him in her peripheral vision rise from his chair, and in a moment, he was bowing before her.
“Miss Bellwood, may I have the honor?” He held out his hand.
“Most certainly.”
Ben’s hand closed over hers and his other arm slipped around her waist. They began to move together in the waltz, and such a fine dancer was he, their bodies seemed to flow as one. The tempo was slow, and as she and Ben drifted into a darker corner of the room, she raised her eyes to his face. He gazed at her in return, and although Elena had previously thought his face rather angular and stern, the look in his eyes now was so warm and expressive that she quivered.
“Are you chilled?” he whispered, keeping his eyes on hers.
“No. I-I feel a bit lightheaded. Perhaps I’ve had too much wine.”
Ben stopped dancing and moved away from her. “Come over to the window. I’ll open it a bit, and the fresh air will revive you.”
“No, I’m quite all right.”
They resumed dancing, but the song ended. As she was reseating herself, Elena glanced at Willa. Poor Willa! She would not be dancing!
“Willa,” she said in a loud voice, “I’m going to ask everyone here to promise to gather together for another party just like this one, to take place when your ankle is healed.”
Everyone cheered her words and all promised. Willa smiled in gratitude, and when James Scott joined her on the settee and engaged her in conversation, she looked very happy indeed.
Chapter Six
The Essence of a Lady
The next morning was clear and cold. Every able-bodied man was soon out of doors plying a shovel, and mountains of snow grew rapidly at every street corner. Shouts echoed from the harbor as the moored ships made ready to sail. Ben and James soon boarded the ketch Gremlin. Leaving Megan to spend the day with Elena, they headed into the sound to give James an opportunity to familiarize himself with the ship.
“Men,” Megan sighed to Elena and Rosalie after her brother and his new friend had departed, “will go forth no matter how frightful the conditions.”
“Very true,” agreed Rosalie. “They are a fearless lot. I much prefer my little shop on a freezing day like this.”
At that moment, Willa limped into the parlor where the others were sitting.
“Miss Murdoch,” she said with an attempt at a curtsy, “I’m certainly able to help in the shop today, if you please. I’d like to repay you in some small way for your kindness to me.”
Rosalie smiled. “I would not have you stumbling down those stairs, Miss McCrea. I advise you to sit with your leg propped up and a good book on your lap.”
“My dear aunt,” Elena interjected, “I do not imagine Willa can read.”
Rosalie was unperturbed. “Then you must teach her, Elena.”
“I can read, ma’am,” said Willa with a blush. “My ma taught all of us to read.”
“Excellent,” replied Rosalie. “However, you have probably not had much chance to practice. I strongly urge you to make use of my little library. Elena can fetch books for you, and as long as she toils on your behalf, I will not ask for her assistance in the shop.”
Elena stared at her aunt. Assist in the shop! How dared she expect such a thing? Then she remembered that she was penniless, and her aunt was taking her in out of charity. She sighed. Her only escape was to marry well, and where she would find a suitable husband in this tiny village, she did not know.
Megan had been engrossed in a book of her own but now joined the conversation. “Miss Murdoch, I volunteer to read with Miss McCrea if Miss Bellwood does not wish to. Willa—may I call you by your Christian name?—we must begin with the classics. What pleasures await us!”
Willa turned to Megan with a look of wonder, admiration, and gratitude. Watching her, Elena realized that poor Willa had received very li
ttle kindness in her life. The smallest favor overawed her. Suddenly, Elena had a brilliant idea! She and Megan would not only improve Willa’s reading, but they would also turn her into a lady! In New York, such a scheme would be impossible, but here, in this country town, the word lady was probably applied to every woman who could read and write adequately and whose family was reasonably well off. Willa’s family lived some distance away, and although she corresponded with her mother, she would be known in Mystic not as one of many children whose parents were scratching out a living on a rocky farm, and not as Elena Bellwood’s personal maid, but as the guest of Miss Rosalie Murdoch, a woman of property and standing in the town.
When Rosalie had gone downstairs to open the shop, Elena presented her idea to the others. At first, they were both speechless and simply stared at her. Finally, Willa spoke. “Miss Bellwood, I’m that grateful for your generosity…but what good would it be for me to become a lady, even if such a thing was possible? I must work and earn my bread.”
“I have considered all that!” cried Elena. “While your leg is healing, Megan and I will help you with reading and writing, if you need such help. Also, we’ll teach you dress, deportment, and speech. By the time you’re walking without a limp, you’ll be ready to seek the kind of work that an educated lady seeks…secretary…or teacher…or something of the sort.”
“Miss Bellwood, the more I consider your idea, the more I like it!” said Megan. “My fiancé is the minister of the Congregational Church. He’ll be happy to help Willa find the right position.”
Elena had forgotten that Megan was engaged to be married. “Is he indeed a minister? How shall you like being a minister’s wife?”
“Very much,” came the quick reply. “And now, Willa, what do you say to Miss Bellwood’s scheme? You are silent.”
“I-I like it, but…”
“But what, Willa?” asked Elena impatiently. “What possible objection could you have?”
“Only one,” said Willa, with her face turning red. “I wouldn’t want to be such a lady that I couldn’t marry James Scott if someday he—”
“Marry James Scott! Certainly not, Willa!”
“Wait, Miss Bellwood,” said Megan, placing a hand on her arm. “Mr. Scott will be Captain Scott when my brother has commissioned him aboard the Gremlin. And he seems a fine young man. You heard him speak highly of his mother and sisters; a man who thinks well of the women in his family is likely to be a good husband.”
Willa nodded. “I like Mr. Scott very much.”
“Willa, do you not see…” Elena began, but Megan raised a finger to her lips.
“Miss Bellwood, let us not concern ourselves with events that have not happened and might never happen. Willa barely knows Mr. Scott, and anyway, she’s too young to be thinking of matrimony. Let’s move forward with your plan, if Willa agrees to it, and let the hymeneal chips fall where they may.”
Elena laughed. “How well you express yourself, Miss Garrick. You are quite correct.”
Megan turned to Willa. “What is your answer, Willa?”
“My answer is yes. I’d be quite a fool to say no to such a thing!”
“I have a suggestion,” said Megan. “Before we begin, let’s all agree to dispense with tripping over each other’s surnames. We’ll be partners in this enterprise, will we not?” She placed a hand on her breast. “I am Megan.”
Willa copied her gesture. “I am Willa.”
Elena hesitated. She could not imagine hearing herself called Elena by her former maid. But the others were looking at her and waiting. With a forced smile, she spoke the words, “I am Elena.”
****
With her new scheme to occupy her, Elena was busy and happy during the rest of February, and as March blew itself out and became weepy April, her sense of well-being did not diminish. She often thought of how different her life was now, and how unaccountably she had come to endure it, even like it. The mornings were the most amazing. During the mornings in her old life, she would often go visiting with her mother. These social necessities seemed very long and tedious, and a feeling of restlessness would take hold of her so that she sometimes returned home fretful, inflicting her discontentment on the servants. But now, her days were so busy, she had no time to be fretful. Besides her efforts on behalf of Willa, she had her clothing to care for, meals to prepare, shopping, and assisting her aunt in the Book & Candle.
To her great surprise, Elena liked the shop, which smelled delightfully of old books, perfumed candles, and soap. She was amazed to find that she had a gift for arranging displays. A shelf or counter set out by her was sure to attract the attention of browsing ladies. Willa, happy to be of use, sewed a striped cotton dress for her so that she would be recognizable as a shop assistant to the customers. Imagine! Elena Bellwood, shopkeeper! What would the Duke of Simsbury make of that?
Megan had removed to her brother’s farm, but she had a gig at her disposal and came into town two or three times a week. Her teaching responsibilities with Willa consisted of instructing her in voice and piano and helping her understand and intelligently discuss the books she read. Elena worked diligently on correcting her country accent, teaching her how to stand straight, walk, and turn, and providing French lessons. Bramble assisted by following the young ladies about the house and challenging Willa’s balance by frequently crossing unexpectedly in front of her.
Willa was slow at first, and during the first few weeks, Elena was afraid she had made a dire mistake in beginning the project. But Willa did not lack intelligence, and Megan, during one of their conferences about their pupil, suggested that Willa’s life had been such that she had never had time to simply rest and grow physically strong. Willa was only seventeen, Megan reminded Elena, but she had known little in life besides work.
“Very true,” agreed Elena.
“We must force her to continue resting,” said Megan. “I know it’s tedious for her, but I believe it’s what she needs.”
“Yes, and I must get her to eat more. She’s too thin and pale.”
These issues corrected themselves as the weeks went on. Willa was naturally very slender, but she gained enough weight so that she lost her scrawny look and developed a small high bosom. Her large dark eyes took on brightness, and when she smiled, they gleamed with a hint of mischief. Once her limp was gone, she was coerced by Elena to walk all about the house with a book on her head, and by the time the mayflowers and lilacs had filled the meadows, she stood as straight as an arrow.
Chapter Seven
Revelations
Willa’s intellectual development improved rapidly as her physical health improved. When May gave way to June, Elena and Megan decided she was ready for her first foray into the upper society of the little town.
The chosen occasion was a dinner at the home of Captain and Mrs. Bartholomew Morgan. Mrs. Morgan, though married, was as independent minded as Rosalie, and the two were fast friends. Elena had often heard her aunt say with a laugh, “Lorelei Morgan has started another scandal!”
Lorelei’s various scandals were usually centered on the right of women to vote, and she often shocked the ladies and gentlemen at card parties and soirees with her bold proclamations and dissemination of pamphlets. Her other issues were the protection of poor children from the ravages of disease, ignorance, hunger, and cruelty; a fierce repugnance to the practice of slavery in the southern states; and an abhorrence of the trapping of wild animals. She spoke up boldly whenever an opportunity arose, and while most of the local gentlemen pitied her poor husband for “taking a shrew to wife,” the women of the village admired her.
Two gentlemen in the village also admired her: Megan’s fiancé, the Reverend Edward Ries, and Mr. Benjamin Garrick. “Hers is the voice of the future,” Edward remarked to Rosalie and Elena one morning when he had accompanied Megan on a visit to the shop. “All societies move slowly toward greater justice. Eventually, the slaves will be freed and poor children will have protection.”
“And the
right of women to vote, my dear Reverend Ries?” asked Rosalie.
“Well, Miss Murdoch, I cannot say I’m in favor of women voting. Women have a specific role to fulfill. It would be best to leave the voting to men.”
Ben was also present. “Edward, my friend, I can’t agree with you. Men have ruled the affairs of state for millennia, and what has their dominance achieved? One war after another.”
Megan and Elena had been speaking together, but Edward’s remark pulled their attention to the conversation of the others. Before either could speak, Willa took up the subject, surprising everyone.
“I read an article last week on that very subject, Mr. Ries. It concerned the convention in New York in 1840; do you remember it? Many women came together to discuss their role in life. The writer made the point that women are just as intelligent as men and every bit as capable in a voting booth. Men are not restricted to only one role in society, so why should women be?”
“Bravo, Willa!” cried Rosalie, and the other women echoed her.
Ben clapped Edward on the shoulder. “What are you going to do after you’re married, Edward, when my sister leaves hearth and home to march in a rally in New York?”
Elena glanced at Megan whose face was pale as she admonished her brother. “Ben…this is neither the time nor place for such a conversation. Whatever philosophical differences Edward and I have, we will overcome.”
“Certainly,” Edward agreed.
Everyone was a bit uncomfortable, and after an awkward moment of silence, Ben pulled Edward outside on the pretext of getting his opinion on a horse that was for sale nearby. Elena breathed a sigh of relief.
Megan had recovered her complexion, and her first words were to congratulate Willa on expressing herself so well. Elena voiced her agreement. Bramble, as though sensing Willa’s success, whapped his tail against her gown, spreading grayish hairs in every direction.
“Really, Bramble,” admonished Elena, “tonight, you will be thoroughly brushed, my good fellow.”