Mrs. Grey

by Rachel Wesson

  “Like mother, like daughter. She will be just the same as the others. No, I will send the telegram. That period of my life is over. I have no desire to reopen those old wounds. Thank you.”

  The doorbell tinkled, causing both of them to look toward it.

  A blonde-haired woman, fashionably dressed as if she were to go to a theatre evening in Boston rather than walking into a store in a small town, appeared.

  “Mama did say you were prone to dramatics.”

  “Isabella? What are you doing here? The letter says the twentieth.” Her voice shook as she spoke.

  “The voyage was quicker than we imagined. My intended secured the train tickets as soon as we arrived in Denver. He had business there. He knew I was so looking forward to meeting my aunt for the first time so I came ahead. Little did we know how unwelcome the visit would be.”

  The girl turned toward Katie. “I came into the store with the intention of asking for directions to a hotel. I couldn’t see anywhere suitable and my maid seems to have disappeared.”

  “Isabella. You cannot be serious. Who in their right mind travels across the country on a whim?”

  “Well, you did, Aunt Lorena. I am only following in your footsteps.”

  Katie coughed, probably in a bid to conceal her amusement but when she looked toward her friend, her face was a picture of innocence.

  “Ladies, it is clear you both have a lot to say to one another. Perhaps you would like to wait upstairs. It is slightly more private. Daniel will be back soon, and he can drive you to your home. I assume you wish your niece to stay with you, Mrs. Grey?” Katie asked quietly.

  The niece looked at her aunt. “I don’t think my aunt will agree to your plan. Perhaps you could show me to a hotel. I made a huge mistake coming here.”

  “Why?” The ragged whisper surprised her almost as much as the tears wetting her face. She never cried in public. “Why come now? After all this time.”

  The girl moved as fast as her bustle would allow her and almost threw herself at her feet.

  “Aunt Lorena, don’t send me away. I had to come. Mama was going to make me marry Lord Billingdon. He is older than you, Aunt Lorena. Grandpapa spoke about you so often. He told me your story. I ran away. I didn’t know where else to go. I used the last of my money to come here.”

  “But your intended…” Katie started to ask, but Isabella turned on her.

  “My so-called intended is a lecherous old man. He’s already had two wives. They both died in mysterious circumstances. He needs an heir and I am the broodmare.”

  “Isabella, remember your manners.” She corrected her niece automatically.

  “Isabella, it’s obvious your arrival has come as a shock to Mrs. Grey. Why don’t I take you to stay at Mrs. Sullivan’s boarding house? She’s my mother-in-law. When your aunt is feeling better, she can come back into town and you two can discuss your business.” Katie suggested.

  “I have said all that needs to be said. Turn around and go straight back where you came from, Isabella,” she said firmly, even though the words made her stomach roil.

  “No. I won’t. You can’t make me,” Isabella replied.

  Isabella and herself stared at each other for a few seconds. The air sparkled with animosity.

  “Come on now, Mrs. Grey. Let’s get you upstairs. You and Isabella can talk in private.” Katie’s tone was kind but firm.

  She glanced at Isabella and motioned her into following her to Katie’s private quarters above the store. Katie was correct. She didn’t want anyone coming in. Her family secrets were not to be gossiped about.

  Chapter 7

  “How did you find me?” Mrs. Grey asked Isabella as soon as Katie closed the door behind her and went back downstairs to the store.

  “I bumped into my cousin, your daughter, at a social function in Richmond. Somebody remarked on the similarity between us. We got to talking and found out we were cousins.”

  “How is Olivia?”

  “Spoilt and bad-tempered.” Isabella put her hand over her mouth. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “You speak the truth. Olivia was spoilt. It wasn’t her fault. It was mine. I gave that girl and her brother everything they wanted.” Everything apart from a mother's love. She knew she had treated her children badly. It wasn’t their fault they had been a product of a cold marriage. Her heart had been broken losing David. She wasn’t capable of loving anyone, not even her own blood.

  “Is she well? Is she happy?”

  “Yes, Aunt Lorena, I think she is. Her husband seems to be besotted with her. They have two little boys although I didn't meet them.”

  “So, I am a grandmother?”

  “Doesn’t she write to you at all?”

  “No. If it’s one thing this family is good at, it’s severing ties.” Mrs. Grey looked at Isabella as if seeing her for the first time. “Why are you really here?”

  “I told you. Mama wants me to marry a horrid old man. She told me to marry him or leave. So, I left. Olivia told me she thought you were still in Clover Springs, so I came here. You were willing to stand up to the family before. I thought you might...”

  “Help you? Why would I? I didn't even know you existed until I received your post.” She knew she was being cruel, but she didn’t have the energy to fight her family. Not again.

  “Please, Aunt Lorena. I have nowhere else to go. I can't go back. I won't.”

  She couldn’t turn her back on her niece much as she wanted to. Aside from the fact Katie was correct, this young girl was innocent of anything that had happened in the war years, and she was her flesh and blood. Plus, she had a reputation to maintain and the town gossips would love to be talking about her throwing her niece out.

  She stood. “We shall go down and thank Katie for her hospitality.”

  Isabella followed her without a word. Once they were downstairs, they waited for Katie to finish serving a customer. Thankfully, it was a man who showed no interest in her or her niece.

  “Thank you, Katie, for your kindness.”

  “You are very welcome, Mrs. Grey.” Katie smiled but her eyes were full of concern.

  “Isabella, you best come with me. You can stay for a day or two until we find something more satisfactory.”

  Isabella opened her mouth, but at a look from Mrs. Grey, she shut it again.

  “Do you want me to drive you home, Mrs. Grey? I can borrow the wagon.”

  “No, thank you, Katie. We have imposed enough on you today. We will walk. Isabella, do you have luggage?”

  “Yes, I left it at the station. It was rather too heavy to carry.”

  Mrs. Grey gave her niece another look. “How long were you planning on staying?”

  “For as long as you will have me.”

  Mrs. Grey didn’t respond. She couldn’t think of what to say.

  “Katie, could you ask Daniel to drop around the luggage when he has time. Thank you so much.”

  Mrs. Grey walked out of the store leaving Isabella to follow in her wake. She didn’t talk to her niece the whole way home and was delighted when Isabella didn’t try to engage her in conversation. She needed to clear her mind. What was she going to do with her niece? Surely her mother wasn’t going to force her to marry a man three times her age. But then thinking of her sister, Adriana, it was quite possible she would do something like that. All Adriana cared about was social status and having an English Lord in the family would suit her quite nicely.

  Chapter 8

  They arrived at a pretty house with a white fence. A wraparound porch surrounded the house. She saw a couple of chairs and a table, suggesting her aunt liked to take advantage of warm evenings out here.

  Isabella looked around the beautifully furnished house, thankful it was bigger and better appointed than the houses she had seen in Clover Springs. It had indoor plumbing so her fears about having to use an outhouse receded.

  “Follow me,” her aunt said sharply.

  Isabella followed her up the
stairs. Her aunt opened the door to a pretty bedroom and gestured Isabella to go inside. “You can have this room while you are staying. It was once Olivia’s. I will go and ask Annie to put on the kettle and make some tea or would you prefer coffee?”

  “Either is fine, thank you.”

  “Come downstairs to the library, the second door on the right as you reach the end of the stairs when you are ready.”

  The door closed leaving Isabella alone. The room was decorated to the highest standards, but it felt cold. Not draughty, just unloved. She sat on the edge of the bed. Had she done the right thing coming here? But then she didn’t have much of a choice. Her mother had made that clear. Marry Lord Billingdon or get out. She opened the door just as a maid was about to knock. The girl almost jumped out of her skin.

  “Sorry, miss, you gave me quite a scare. My name is Annie. Mrs. Grey asked me to show you around. She also asked me to give you this.”

  The maid put the jug and basin she was carrying on the dresser. Isabella quickly washed her face and hands. Then she followed the maid as she gave her a quick tour of the house before leading her to the library downstairs. When she went in, her aunt was sitting by the unlit fire. She looked as if she was thousands of miles away. She glanced around the room. Two of the four walls were covered in bookshelves. Her aunt, or maybe her deceased uncle, were obviously readers. She wondered if there were any of the latest books on the shelves. She liked Charles Dickens; his Tale of Two Cities made her want to visit Paris and London. But not enough to warrant marrying Lord Billingdon. She shuddered, dismissing the image of the man her mother had picked as her suitor out of her mind.

  “Thank you, Aunt Lorena. Shall I pour?” Isabella indicated the tea. Her aunt nodded.

  Silence prevailed. Isabella wondered what she should talk about when her aunt surprised her.

  “Did Papa really speak about me? He told me he would never forgive me.” Her aunt spoke quietly, her voice shaking with emotion.

  “I think with time and old age he grew softer. He would never have admitted it to your face, but I think he was proud of you. You showed real backbone.” Isabella didn’t think now was a good time to tell her aunt, her grandfather had told anyone who would listen that if the South had an army of men like his daughter, they wouldn’t have lost. Her grandfather had remained a Lee supporter until the day he died. “He never forgave you for falling in love with the enemy or helping them, but I think, underneath it all, he held a grudging admiration for you.”

  Aunt Lorena stirred her tea, a funny expression on her face making her appear younger and softer.

  “David wasn't the enemy. He didn't want to fight. He was a doctor,” she said softly.

  “Why did he then? Plenty of doctors sat out the war,” Isabella asked, keen to keep the conversation going on a topic that wasn’t about her.

  “Yes, he could have done that, but he was an honorable man,” Aunt Lorena replied. “You couldn’t hope to meet a better man.”

  “How did you first meet?” Isabella was genuinely curious. She had often thought the story of her aunt running away with a Union man to be so romantic.

  “He visited the plantation. He used to help the slaves escape. He knew I was teaching the slaves to read. Your grandfather never knew that.”

  “He did actually. He said he knew you were breaking the rules from the start, but he didn’t see any harm in it. He said years before you were born, the slaves all knew how to read and write. But then he blamed the fact he didn't keep a stricter eye on you. If he had stopped you helping the slaves, maybe you wouldn’t have met David, and you would have remained a member of the family. I think you were his favorite.”

  “Yes, I suppose I was. Your mother was always Mama's favorite. Adriana could be counted on knowing how to dress properly. She danced like a princess and was so beautiful half the county was in love with her, the other half afraid of her. She was always quite formidable.”

  “She hasn’t changed. Although to be fair, I think you were all born with inner strength otherwise you wouldn’t have become the talk of the county.” Isabella glanced at her aunt wondering if she could ask her the question she had always wanted to ask.

  “What? You look like you want to ask me something.”

  Could she ask her aunt? Would she think her terribly impolite? The curiosity overcame her nerves.

  “Was it worth it?” Isabella asked, her eyes not meeting those of Mrs. Grey.

  “Loving David? Absolutely. I only wish... Well, there is no point in going over that. What happened, happened.”

  “What about Mr. Grey? How did you meet him? He was a northerner too. Did he remind you of David?”

  Chapter 9

  She sighed. How much did her niece want to know? Her life story wasn’t a fairytale. There had been no happy ever after.

  “Not at all. He was older for a start. A cold man who didn't expect me to provide him with love only companionship and an heir for his wealth. At least I was successful on one count.” At the confused expression in Isabella’s eyes, Mrs. Grey explained. “My husband was not a warm man. We had almost nothing in common. Despite initially wanting a southern Belle on his arm as some sort of war trophy, I think with time I embarrassed him. My husband didn’t believe slavery should be abolished.”

  Isabella gasped.

  “Yes, I know you are surprised but far too many people believe that the North fought for the abolition of slavery. They didn't or at least for the majority of people that was not the sole aim. My husband was a businessman. He could understand plantations such as Summerhill wouldn’t survive if they had to pay for labor. He fought for the Union because he felt the South committed treason by seceding. It had nothing to do with improving the lot of slaves.”

  “I assumed he would have been like you. It explains a lot about Olivia,” Isabella said.

  She looked at her niece, wanting her to continue, but Isabella glanced at the floor.

  “We disagreed on most subjects. He believed women should be ornaments. I suppose, given my background, he may have thought I believed that too. But he was wrong. Our children grew up in a very unhappy home. I spoilt them to make up for the lack of warmth or love in our house. They turned out to be vindictive, closed-minded individuals. That is not their fault but mine.”

  “I don’t agree with you, Aunt Lorena. Perhaps as children, but they are adults now and are making their own choices. Olivia is a gossip and has a spiteful tongue. The only person responsible for that is herself.”

  She couldn’t help wincing. She may agree with Isabella, but Olivia was her daughter, her flesh and blood. At night, she hoped they might one day be reconciled. Not that she would ever admit that to anyone.

  She changed the subject. “I will introduce you to Alicia Higgins. Her family owned the Summerfield Plantation when I was young. Mama loved that plantation. She always compared ours to theirs.”

  “Is Alicia the lady whose father murdered her mother then killed himself?” Isabella asked, her face coloring as if she felt guilty for gossiping.

  “I see the news still travels around the country even though the family no longer live there. Alicia’s parents were both murdered. It was made to look like a suicide to take the focus off the real criminal, Alicia's former fiancé.”

  “Oh, the poor girl.”

  “There is nothing poor about Alicia, either financially or emotionally. She is very wealthy due to a gold mine she inherited, but I would imagine she would put her happiness down to her marriage to Aaron Higgins and the adoption of their two sons. Money doesn’t equal happiness as we have both found out. Thank your lucky stars, Isabella, you found out the truth so young. Now you have a chance to find happiness.”

  “Not likely, given Mama's attempts to marry me off. Lord Billingdon is only the last in a long line. I think she really is becoming desperate now though. It’s the first time she has threatened to throw me out if I don’t proceed with the wedding. But I can't. You should see him, Aunt Lorena. He only has a few
wisps of hair which he pushes across his shiny head. His fingers are short and pudgy, and he looks at me like I am his favorite meal. I can't abide him.”

  “So how will you live if you do have to leave your family?”

  Isabella looked uneasy. “Well, I thought... I wondered if I could live with you?”

  “Live off me you mean?” Mrs. Grey said more sharply than she meant. “Sorry, Isabella, forgive me. I didn't mean to sound quite so rude. If you do not want to proceed with this marriage, have you any ideas what you would like to do with your future?”

  Isabella stared at her, her wide eyes full of confusion and panic. Mrs. Grey closed her eyes. Had she ever been as young, foolish, and naïve as her niece?

  Chapter 10

  Sheriff Willis checked the cells again—he was concerned Murphy may choke in his drunken stupor. Amazingly the man was awake. “Murphy, I should be charging you rent. Do you ever go home?”

  “Sure, I do, Sheriff, but your grub is better. My missus isn’t the best of cooks. She burns everything.”

  “If you turned up on time rather than head to the saloon after work, the food would be fine.”

  Murphy didn’t answer, he had already fallen fast asleep.

  He went back to his desk and had just sat when Little Beaver walked into the office. The grave expression on his deputy’s face made him stand up again.

  “Trouble.”

  Little Beaver nodded.

  “At the saloon or out in the camp?”

  “Saloon. I told them to shut it down, or we would shut it for them, but they wasn’t too pleased.”

  He could only imagine what they had said to his second-in-command. Little Beaver was the best deputy he’d ever had, but some couldn’t get over the fact he was an Indian.

  “Want me to go over there?”

  “No. I will go back in a while. Show them I speak straight. We got more problems.”

  He waited for his deputy to elaborate.