by Jocelyn Kirk
“To think,” cried Willa as dessert began, “I’m no longer a servant but a shopkeeper! I owe you both so much! Miss Murdoch, I will not disappoint you!”
“Of course you will not, Willa. I have full faith in you.”
“And you won’t be left alone,” added Elena. “I’ll continue to spend a great deal of time in the shop. I want my dear aunt to feel free to do as she pleases.”
“Of course!” agreed Willa.
Rosalie laughed. “Don’t dispose of me so readily! I can’t stay completely away from my dear little shop. I want only to spend more of the summer at the farm.”
“Speaking of which,” said Elena, “Willa has had no opportunity to visit her parents’ farm. She should do so before she begins her new duties.” Rosalie nodded her agreement.
“No,” replied Willa. “Mr. Garrick offered to convey me to the farm by boat—my father’s land lies along the coast—but my mother wrote last week to tell me not to come.”
“Why?” asked her two listeners in unison.
“She said my father is in a quandary right now, and his mood is not pleasant. It seems the men planning the new railroad are attempting to buy his property. They say that the only good route for the trains is directly through his farm.”
“Good heavens! Does your mother think he will sell?”
“She didn’t say. He is giving her no voice in the matter.”
“How much property is owned by your father?” asked Elena. “I was under the impression that your home farm was small.”
“I couldn’t have told you yesterday,” replied Willa. “But in her letter my mother said that they farm only a small portion and leave the rest as woodlands. About a thousand acres, she says, lie along the coast exactly where the planners of the railroad want to lay the tracks.”
“A thousand acres is a great deal of land!” said Rosalie. “I hope that your father has advice from a competent attorney. If he sells, he must be sure of commanding a fair price.”
“My mother wrote something very confusing about an entailment. My father inherited the land, but it’s entailed on his children…or something of the sort.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Elena. “How interesting!”
“Willa,” said Rosalie with a serious face, “you must write your mother and request full details of the entail. It sounds as if you and the other children are co-owners of the land with your father. I advise you to learn all you can about the situation.”
“I will indeed, if you think it proper, Miss Murdoch, but I would never dare challenge my father for his land.”
Rosalie hesitated before she spoke again. “Willa, I’m sure your mother and father are fine people, but they sent you into service at a very young age. I can’t help but wonder at that circumstance…”
“Indeed, ma’am, they did, and I asked them why at the time.”
“What did they say?” asked Elena.
“It pains me to tell it,” Willa replied, with tears shining in her eyes. “My father has four sons—I am his only daughter—and he said the boys could farm with him, but I was useless for farming and too plain-looking to ever marry.”
Rosalie and Elena were silent with shock. Elena’s mind darted back to the time that Willa had labored as her maid; how dismissive she had been of the poor girl and her wants and needs! But now it seemed, while she herself was penniless, Willa was very likely a landowner! How strange life could be!
Rosalie leaned across the table and took Willa’s hand. “I don’t approve of your father’s words or his actions. In fact, I must disparage his eyesight and wonder how he could have thought you plain.”
“I agree,” said Elena. “Willa, what said your mother about your father’s decree?”
“She was distressed,” Willa replied, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. “But she did not dare oppose my father.”
“Well!” declared Rosalie. “This has been a very strange day indeed! Willa, pray take my advice about the entailment; find out more. In fact, considering how badly you were treated by your father, it might be wise to engage an attorney to investigate and protect your rights.”
“An attorney! That would cost a great sum, would it not?”
“It would cost a bit of money, but when you consider the value of the land, Willa, it’s absolutely necessary for you to have your interests upheld by a competent solicitor.”
“Perhaps your friend Mrs. Morgan could assist, Aunt Rosalie. Her husband has connections all over the state, I hear.”
“A very good idea, Elena! Willa, should I speak to Lorelei about the situation?”
“If you think it best, ma’am.”
“I do. I will call on her tomorrow.”
Chapter Eleven
Love and Lust
The next morning, the three women went their separate ways. Willa opened the shop and tended customers, Rosalie walked to the Morgan residence, and Elena went out with Megan in her gig. They all planned to join Ben, Edward, and the British scientists later for dinner at the Harbor Inn.
Megan drove to a dressmaker’s shop, and the two girls exclaimed over fabrics, laces, and buttons for some time. Megan was going to sew her own wedding frock, and much had to be decided in terms of design and decoration. They flew from one display of lace and silk to another and yet another, and after two hours had settled on nothing.
Megan sighed. “I was determined to keep my gown simple and plain, but oh, these laces and ribbons are exquisite!”
“Megan, dear, one hopes that you will marry only once, so do splurge a little. You are so lovely; a bit of finery will become you very well.”
Megan held a pale blue silk against Elena’s face. “Here is the color for you! What a beautiful bride you will be some day!”
It was at that precise moment that Elena felt eyes upon her. A gentleman loitered in the doorway of the shop. He was a well-looking man of middle age, but he was staring at her quite rudely. When her gaze met his, he turned and walked quickly away.
Megan had not seen him, and Elena said nothing. They left the shop and drove to the inn, and all was quite normal except Elena saw the man again, walking slowly along the dusty street. He looked at her as the gig passed but did not tip his hat or nod. She wondered who he might be.
The dinner party at the inn had grown considerably by the time Elena and Megan arrived. Lorelei and Bartholomew Morgan were both there and had brought the Duke of Simsbury. No sooner had the girls greeted the Morgans, than Elena’s notice was claimed by the duke, who was standing a little behind Mr. Morgan and not immediately in her sight.
“Well, Miss Bellwood, we meet again.”
“So we do, Your Grace. May I present Miss Garrick?”
Megan curtsied briefly and turned away to greet Ben, Edward, and the scientists. Elena began to speak to her aunt and Willa, but the duke touched her arm and pulled her gently aside.
“Elena, who is that enchanting creature with your aunt? She looks vaguely familiar, but I cannot recall where I saw her.”
Elena could not repress a smile. “You saw her in Aunt Rosalie’s shop. She is my dear friend Willa McCrea, and she has just begun managing the Book & Candle for my aunt.”
“Of course! She looks quite different in her dinner frock. She’s not a classic beauty, but she has an air très mysterieuse and compelling.”
Elena smiled inwardly. Was the duke attempting to make her jealous? He would no doubt flirt with Willa and attempt to break her heart or disappoint her, as he had done to herself. How glad she was she had not married him! He wished to fall in love, but his heart was made of ice, and he could love no woman; money was the real object of his devotion.
The party had their own room for dinner, and the innkeeper soon called them to order and invited them thither. Elena attempted to walk with her aunt, but Ben Garrick took her arm without ceremony and ushered her into the dining parlor.
During the meal, the conversational topics were many, and among them of course was the railroad. “Bit of a snag,
eh, Simsbury,” declared Mr. Morgan when the subject arose. “Who would have thought a farmer named Jesse McCrea would own the very land we need.”
“He’ll sell,” declared the duke. “When he sees the figure being offered by the investors, he’ll sign so quickly, his pen will fly like lightning.”
“What say you, Miss McCrea?” called Bartholomew across the table to Willa. “Will your father sell, do you think?”
Elena could easily see from the shock on the duke’s face that he had no idea Willa was the daughter of the landowner Jesse McCrea.
Simsbury recovered quickly. “Miss McCrea,” he said gently, “I hope I can prevail on you to introduce me to your father…for the sake of the new railroad, of course, but also for another reason much more charming and interesting to myself.”
Willa had no practice in dealing with urbane, confident, self-satisfied flirts like the duke of Simsbury. She looked across the table at him and innocently asked, “What do you mean, sir?”
“He means,” said Ben, who was sitting next to Willa, “that you are a lovely young lady, and he would like to inform your father that he admires you, while getting a leg up on grabbing your family’s land.”
Ben’s tone bore a sarcastic edge, but the duke was unfazed. He shrugged and said, “Plainly spoken, Dr. Garrick, but I cannot deny the truth of your words.”
Megan was angry on Elena’s behalf, as well as Willa’s. She was at the farthest possible point at the table from the duke but felt she must speak. Her voice trembled a little as she addressed him.
“Your Grace, this is a small village. We women are not accustomed to idle gallantry. Pray consider Miss McCrea’s very young age before you indulge in a flirtation that might be acceptable in New York City, but not here.”
Elena watched the duke’s face at this attack but could discern neither embarrassment nor remorse. “Your words will be heeded,” he said to Megan with a slight bow. “I meant no disrespect to Miss McCrea and hereby apologize if I have offended.”
Mr. Morgan filled the awkward silence. “Come, ladies, allow us men a little freedom! What single man in his right mind would not wish to flirt with a maiden as comely as Miss McCrea?”
Elena could not help but smile. She appreciated Morgan’s attempt to smooth the situation and assisted him by saying, “I quite agree, Mr. Morgan. My friend Miss McCrea is lovely indeed, and I cannot blame the duke for admiring her. But of course, Miss Garrick is certainly correct in her statement about this small village! Our men here, Your Grace”—she turned to the duke—“are plainspoken.”
He smiled broadly into her face, and his warm expression almost restored her admiration. His elegant, sophisticated manners were attractive, she could not deny it.
“Miss Bellwood, you are ever the diplomat.”
Despite the awkwardness of that one exchange, the dinner pleased the participants so well they began to talk of bringing the same company together on another day.
“We must,” agreed the duke, “we surely must meet again. This has been too delightful not to be repeated.”
“It must be an early date,” Ben stated, “for soon I will lose my comrades in stargazing. Dr. Soames and Dr. Garson are talking of sailing to England in a few weeks’ time.”
The good-natured scientists had added a great deal of interest and pleasure to the nearly daily meetings of the little circle of friends, and their intention to leave brought many expressions of sorrow. Edward decried their leaving and demanded they stay for his wedding.
“Yes,” echoed Elena. “You must be here for the wedding!”
“Oh come,” laughed Liam Garson, “another month of us in his house and Ben Garrick will surely become demented!”
“Then stay at my farm,” demanded Rosalie. “Elena and I will reside in town.”
Willa’s soft voice was heard among the general agreement. “I have many questions to ask about your work and have had no opportunity to ask them.”
“I also,” declared Elena. “You must stay, dear doctors!”
“We will discuss it,” said Soames, “but Miss Murdoch, I would hesitate to intrude on your hospitality in such a manner.”
“It is no intrusion. Pray do stay.”
“My dear,” said Bartholomew to his wife, “why do we not give a reception at our house? All the present delightful company will be invited, of course, and several others. For example, the hardworking Captain James Scott deserves a bit of pleasure, does he not, Garrick?”
Ben began to reply, but Willa cried, “Oh, yes, do invite Captain Scott!” Everyone laughed at the excitement in her tone, and she blushed beet red. Elena shifted her gaze toward the duke and caught his quickly suppressed expression of irritation. Her mischievous nature took over, and she said, “Oh, yes, do, Mr. Morgan! Since Mr. Scott became Captain Scott, we have hardly seen him.”
“Consider it done,” replied Morgan.
Elena saw Megan looking at her in surprise, and she winked. Megan caught the trick, and although she disapproved of all underhanded tactics, she could not suppress a smile. To see the duke frustrated in his attempts to engage the heart of Willa was enough for her to forgive her friend’s machinations.
“But no one has asked the duke how long he is staying,” Megan declared. “You must consider his plans, Mrs. Morgan, before you choose a date.”
The duke shrugged. “My time is at my own disposal, Miss Garrick, but I do thank you for your kind concern.”
Lorelei promised to consult her calendar and send invitations. With that, the party dispersed.
****
Elena’s thoughts were in a bit of a turmoil the next morning, but she was not sure why. Was she jealous of the duke’s admiration of Willa? Willa was not yet eighteen, but she herself was now twenty-one. How easily the man had dismissed his incipient reinterest in herself and taken up an interest in a woman three years her junior. Was she becoming old and unattractive?
Against her will, her mind wandered to Benjamin Garrick. How did she feel about him? She was not so young and naïve that she did not know the difference between love and lust. She was forced to admit to herself that she was physically attracted to him. When he touched her casually, she shivered. At night in her virginal bed, she would sometimes lie awake and imagine his hands on her body, his hot kisses on her mouth.
She was sitting on a window seat in the parlor, staring out the window as these thoughts filled her mind. She sighed just as Rosalie entered the room.
“Such a great sigh!” commented her aunt. “One would think you had the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
“I have the weight that every woman has,” said Elena blushing, “to wed or not to wed.”
“You are not considering reanimating the duke’s admiration for you, I hope.”
“No. And what would it serve if I tried? He is now the admirer of Willa.”
“He is a vain flirt, my love. Amusing and charming, certainly, but it’s all on the surface. I would not wish any woman I cared about to marry him.”
Elena sighed again. “I’m beginning to think I should marry someone.”
Rosalie took her hand. “I agree with you. Let me speak frankly. When a woman enters her twenties, she has lived far too long like a nun—”
“My dear aunt!”
“I don’t want to shock or embarrass you, but there’s danger in being chaste for too long. If circumstances are right, a woman can make a terrible mistake.”
Elena hung her head to hide her scarlet face. She felt as though her aunt had read her impure thoughts regarding the enigmatic Ben Garrick.
“Elena, you know me to be the plainspoken woman I am, so hear me out. It is natural and wonderful for a woman to be attracted to a man in the physical sense. If he is a good, ethical man and would make a faithful husband, the physical attraction is a great enhancement.”
Elena forced herself to speak. “But what of love? How does one know? If…desire is strong, can it not be mistaken for love?”
“I suppose i
n some cases it might be, but I don’t see you in that light. I feel certain that if you love someone, you will know it.”
“But how?”
Rosalie poured tea for them and leaned back in a comfortable wing chair. “Let me ask you a question, my dear. Let us conjecture—just for a moment—that you feel an attraction for Ben Garrick. I know you have some reservations when it comes to marrying him, but tell me this: how will you feel when he marries someone else?”
Elena started to answer but could not. Her wayward mind was picturing an unknown woman sharing Ben’s bed, feeling his caresses, moaning with pleasure and pain as he deflowered her. She knew how she would feel—devastated!
“I-I must be honest and admit it would distress me.”
“Perhaps that is your answer, my love.”
“Then you think I should marry him? But, Aunt Rosalie, he has never proposed to me!”
“If you make up your mind that he’s the man of your choice, you can certainly behave in such a way to him that he will understand your feelings.”
“I am a bit afraid marriage to him would be a mistake. We are not much alike, and I imagined a rather different life for myself.”
“Yes, my sister taught you well.”
“What do you mean?”
“Forgive me, but it seems to me that she taught you to value wealth, splendor, and society over goodness, kindness, and independent thinking.”
Elena was silent. What did she want? She could imagine herself in a passionate embrace with Ben Garrick, but she could not picture the forever aspect. Children, day-to-day living, discussions of money and other mundane subjects—how could she bear such a dull life?
“You look lost in thought, my dear.”
Elena sighed. “May I speak frankly?”
“Most certainly.”