by Janette Oke
“Where do you attend?” she asked him.
“A little mission—right downtown. You’ll have to come with me sometime.”
“I’d like that,” Belinda replied. They were ushered into a pew and prepared themselves for the morning worship.
Belinda was pleased to hear Drew beside her, singing the familiar hymns. He had a pleasant voice and was not afraid to sing out heartily. Most of the congregation tended to be rather timid about singing.
The minister’s sermon was good—correct in content and flawless in delivery as usual.
The two were greeted at the door as they left the sanctuary, and a few of the parishioners nodded Belinda’s way. After all, she had been a faithful part of this church for three years.
“How did you arrive?” Belinda asked Drew.
“I hired a carriage,” he answered simply.
“You didn’t ask the driver to wait, did you?”
“No. I paid him and sent him on his way.”
“Good,” she responded. “Windsor has been sent along home, too.”
“You’re going to walk?” teased Drew. “In your Sunday finery?”
“It’s only a short distance,” Belinda told him. “It will help me appreciate my dinner.”
Drew fell into step beside her. “This is a very nice part of town,” he commented as he looked about them. “Your former employer must have been a lady of means.”
Belinda nodded. She had told Drew very little about Mrs. Stafford-Smyth. “Did I tell you how I met her?” asked Belinda. “No, I thought not. Well, she was traveling. She loved to travel. Went all the way to San Francisco—’just to see it,’ she said. She traveled out by train and on her way home she was taken ill—at our town. They brought her to Luke. She was really very sick. Had suffered a stroke. We didn’t know for days if she would make it. But she did. Gradually. When she was well enough to travel on home, she asked me to accompany her. I did because I was . . . well, bored, I guess, and had never seen anything but our little town.”
“So you came to Boston,” said Drew. “Now I remember, Luke told me briefly of your out-of-town patient. I hadn’t realized that you had been with her all this time. You stayed on with her, then?”
“I did. I intended to accompany her here and then return again. But she wanted me to stay on and I agreed. I always thought I would stay just a bit longer because she needed me. She was so lonely.”
“Didn’t she have family?”
“Two grandsons. But they both live in Paris. Their mother was French. Aunt Virgie kept hoping and praying that they would decide to return to America . . . but it didn’t work that way. They both married French girls and settled down over there.”
“So now she is gone . . . and you are still here?”
Belinda nodded.
“And you have the affairs of the estate to handle . . . rather than the grandsons?”
Belinda could tell that Drew thought the matter rather strange. It would seem so to anyone.
“She left the boys each a sizable amount of money,” Belinda said.
“And . . .” Drew prompted.
“She was a very generous lady. She left her staff each part of the estate, as well.”
Drew nodded. “And you have to wait for all the estate to be put in order?”
“Right,” she responded with a sigh. “I was so in hopes that it would be taken care of by now . . . but it all takes so much time. We still need to—” Belinda caught herself. “But I promised I wouldn’t discuss that, didn’t I? Firm rules. This is Mr. Keats’s affair.”
Drew smiled.
They walked along in silence and then Belinda led the way down the long driveway toward the magnificently appointed home.
Drew’s eyes widened. “You’re not telling me that this is home, are you?” he asked.
“This is Marshall Manor,” announced Belinda. “And I know just how you feel. I felt that way myself the first time I saw it.”
“I believe it,” Drew murmured, drawing in a breath. “I’ve never seen a house like this one in my entire life. No wonder it is taking an age to settle the estate.”
“I suppose that has something to do with it,” she admitted and led the way through the front door to the wide entrance hall. Windsor was waiting to take the gentleman’s hat and relieve Belinda of her parasol.
“Come,” Belinda said to Drew. “I’ll show you where you can freshen up. Dinner will be served in a few minutes.”
Drew was studying the paintings in the entrance when Belinda came back down the stairs from her room. “I’ve never seen such grandeur,” he admitted. “I can’t imagine what it must be like to live here.”
Belinda wrinkled her nose. “I must admit to being a bit spoiled,” she confessed. “I found it most difficult to go back to farmyard plumbing on my last trip home.”
Drew laughed. “I should think so,” he agreed.
Windsor announced dinner, and Belinda led the way to the dining room. The table was a large one to be set with just two places, and Drew mentioned the fact after he had seated Belinda.
“It looks good today,” she said soberly. “Usually it has only one.”
“You eat in here . . . alone?” Drew asked as the first course was served.
Belinda nodded.
“Couldn’t you just . . . isn’t there a less formal, smaller table somewhere?”
“Off the kitchen,” smiled Belinda.
“Well, couldn’t you . . . well, use it?”
Belinda laughed softly. “That does not seem appropriate to the staff,” she informed him. “They would be uncomfortable if I did such a thing.”
“But . . . but I thought you were staff,” Drew countered.
Belinda laughed heartily. “I was. It was most strange. . . . Aunt Virgie insisted that I eat with her. She was just lonely, I think, and I was the only staff member who hadn’t been brought up ‘by the rules,’ so to speak. So when she expected me to be at the table, I didn’t have the sense to object. At first the other household staff were scandalized by it.”
“But now she is gone and you are still at the table,” observed Drew.
“That’s the strange part. Now they would be equally scandalized if I were to suggest eating near the kitchen with them.”
“So you always eat here . . . alone?”
“Oh no. Not always here. Sometimes I ask for my meal in the north parlor on a tray. Or in my room. But never in the dining hall off the kitchen.”
After asking God’s blessing on the food, they began to eat.
“Well, I must say, it’s the most delicious food I’ve tasted for quite some time,” Drew admitted.
“Oh, Cook is most proud of her culinary skills,” stated Belinda.
Drew was still shaking his head. Then he looked directly at Belinda. “I have to admit,” he said simply, “you do look perfectly at home here.”
Belinda smiled. “I suppose I’ve had some practice,” she responded. “I felt very much out of my element at first. Especially when Aunt Virgie would entertain. She always had guests her own age, and the conversation was from another world than the one I’d known.”
Drew smiled. “I can see the problem,” he admitted.
“Shall we have coffee and dessert on the veranda?” Belinda asked later. “Thomas does a wonderful job on the gardens. The fall flowers are still very pretty, but I’m afraid we might not be able to enjoy them for long. Thomas says the seasons come and go so quickly that the flowers scarcely have a chance to bloom.”
Drew nodded and Belinda rang for Windsor.
She informed the butler of their plans and fell into step beside Drew.
Drew was just as overwhelmed by the gardens as he had been by the house.
“Thomas is always out here working in them,” Belinda informed him. “Every day but Sunday. Even in the rain. In the winter he putters in his greenhouse getting plants ready for the next year’s planting.”
“Well, he is certainly skilled,” Drew commented. “This
is the prettiest setting I’ve ever seen.”
“I love the gardens—almost as much as old Thomas does,” Belinda said.
“I just can’t imagine anyone living like this,” Drew observed.
“You get used to it,” Belinda replied with a slight shrug.
“‘Used to it,’ ” laughed Drew. “Listen to you. Used to it. As if it were a comfortable old shoe or something.”
Belinda joined him in laughter. Windsor brought the dessert and coffee. “I’ll pour, Windsor,” Belinda offered. “That will be all, thank you.”
Belinda could feel Drew’s eyes watching her carefully, but he made no comment.
Looking about him at the magnificent home, he pondered aloud, “Seems a shame to have it all pass on to someone else. Someone who might not love it in the way your former employer did.”
“That’s why I don’t want it sold,” Belinda agreed. “I just couldn’t let Aunt Virgie’s house be taken over by strangers.”
Drew looked surprised. “It won’t be sold? But I thought you said you were busy settling the estate.”
“Oh yes. I am.”
“Doesn’t it have to be sold to give each of the heirs the portion mentioned in the will? You said—”
“Oh, the specifics mentioned in the will were quite apart from the house,” Belinda informed Drew. “In fact, all that has been taken care of. That wasn’t the difficult part.”
Drew looked more puzzled.
“The problem has been setting things up for the house . . . and grounds. I don’t want things to deteriorate. It takes a good deal of planning to maintain such a place.”
“You have to do all of that?” he asked, astonished.
“Oh yes,” responded Belinda simply. “Aunt Virgie left it all to me.”
Twenty
Disappointment
Belinda had no idea the effect her words would have on Drew. The impact of the simple statement took the wind from him as forcibly as the long-ago fall from Copper had taken it from Belinda. Belinda’s wealth put an impossible barrier between her and a struggling young attorney, he was thinking with great sadness.
Belinda was still speaking. “It’s been a great frustration,” she said. “We have gone round and round trying to get things set up properly.”
Drew nodded dumbly.
“But finally things seem to be drawing to a close. At least that’s what Mr. Keats says. I have another appointment with him next Wednesday.”
Drew nodded again. He still had not found his voice.
“Mrs. Stafford-Smyth must have thought a great deal of you,” he managed at last.
For a moment Belinda did not comment, and when she did, she had tears in her eyes. “We were more like family than employer and employee,” she admitted. “She was so good to me. I miss her very much.”
Drew would have liked to move forward to comfort Belinda, but he held himself back.
Unaware of Drew’s hesitation, Belinda continued to recount her experiences. “She always missed her grandsons so much,” she explained, “but she knew they would never move here to America . . . not even for this beautiful home. So she did what she could to keep it like this.” Belinda looked about her and waved her hand. “She gave it to me. She knew I would do all I could to keep it just as it is . . . as much as possible.”
Drew nodded, his pain still unnoticed by Belinda.
“It seems like . . . like a lot of house for one small woman,” Drew said with a sigh, looking around into the large dining room.
“Exactly,” agreed Belinda. “That’s why I’ve decided to share it.”
“Share it?”
“With the elderly. We are planning to invite ten older people . . . people who do not have homes or families . . . to live here.”
Drew’s expression showed his surprise.
“So you see,” laughed Belinda merrily, “the dining room table will no longer need to be set for one.”
Drew managed a smile. “Doesn’t it . . . doesn’t it bother you . . . having all those people . . . strangers . . . moving into your beautiful home?” he asked.
“Oh no,” Belinda shook her head firmly. “It really seems the only way to do it.”
“You mean . . . you . . . you need the income for the upkeep?” he finally asked, feeling awkward about the question.
“Oh no. Nothing like that. There’s plenty of money for that. The new boarders won’t be charged anything. They will be guests . . . for as long as they wish to live here.”
Drew shook his head. “I’ve never heard of an arrangement like that,” he said to Belinda.
“I guess others haven’t, either. That’s what makes it so difficult to set it up. Even Mr. Keats is hard put knowing how to go about it.”
“I see,” said Drew. The day seemed to have lost its joy. Drew set aside his cup and stood to his feet.
“Well, I guess I shouldn’t outstay my welcome,” he murmured.
“Your welcome? Oh, you could never do that,” responded Belinda. “Come, let me show you the rest of the house.”
Drew politely followed Belinda on the guided tour. The more he saw, the more dejected he became.
“You’ll come again?” she asked anxiously when he took his leave.
Drew didn’t answer her question directly. “Don’t forget you promised to come to the mission with me,” he reminded Belinda.
“Oh, I’d love to,” she responded with enthusiasm, and Drew’s countenance lifted for a moment. But then Belinda added, “I might find some elderly people there who need this home.”
Drew, disappointed, nodded solemnly and turned to go.
“But how are you getting home?” Belinda asked him.
“Oh, I’ll find a carriage,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Nonsense,” insisted Belinda, “Windsor will drive you.”
Drew began to argue, but it looked as if Belinda had quite made up her mind.
“I’ll even ride along . . . if you don’t mind,” she said with a smile, and Drew agreed helplessly.
Belinda could sense it, but she had no idea why Drew seemed to be withdrawn. She was unaware of the discouraging thoughts racing through the mind of her companion since he had discovered her true situation—that she was a very wealthy woman. Instead, she thought about the wonder of their finding each other in Boston. She was reveling in the fact that they were able to enjoy each other’s company. She relived the moments spent together and looked forward to many such happy times in the future.
And then Belinda remembered her plans for going home, and her heart sank within her. It was obvious to her that Drew planned to stay on in Boston. He had a promising future with an established law firm. He would be foolish to give up all that for . . . for a hometown girl.
Belinda suddenly shivered. There seemed to be more than a hint of fall in the air. A strange silence fell between the two sharing the carriage.
“I have discovered several ways that we can go,” Mr. Keats began on Belinda’s next visit. “But in each case it will involve setting up a trust and administrators.”
Belinda nodded.
“The main issue is what kind of trust you wish to set up.”
“What choices do I have?” asked Belinda.
“Well, we could set it up under the city administration. They do have a concern committee to care for the homeless. Your proposal might fit into their program.”
Belinda considered that.
“Or,” Mr. Keats went on, “we could set it up under a church. They have contacts with the needy and could administer it as they see fit.”
Belinda spent another period of time thinking of that possibility.
“Or,” continued the attorney, “we could set it up independently. A board quite apart from either of those. Self-governed and self-controlled.”
Belinda thought some more. “I favor that idea,” she finally said.
The man nodded. “One needs to be very careful about choosing the administrators,” he cautioned.
/> “How about an attorney, a banker, a member from the city council, and a church official?” suggested Belinda a bit timidly.
The man nodded. “Good choices,” he said, looking surprised. “I would recommend a few more.”
“Would you serve on my board?” Belinda dared to ask.
Mr. Keats was obviously flattered. “Well, I . . . I would be honored,” he replied.
Belinda felt they had finally made a significant step. The rest of the appointment time was spent in discussing possible board members, and when Belinda left, Mr. Keats had her instructions to make the contacts.
Belinda was hoping she might run into Drew. She wanted to share her good news. And then she remembered that her good news was also bad news . . . at least to her way of thinking. Once the manor affairs were settled, she would have no reason to linger in Boston. She would be saying good-bye to Drew again . . . and this time there was little likelihood that their paths would cross.
I could stay right here and run the manor, Belinda thought. No one would ask me to leave.
But in her heart Belinda knew that was out of the question. She needed, desperately needed, to touch base with her roots again—to discover the real Belinda Davis. She had been living in another world—in many ways a fantasy world—for too long. She didn’t belong there, and she wasn’t even truly happy in that lifestyle. She hadn’t been raised to be a parlor pansy in some magnificent Boston home. She was a simple person at heart. She had learned from her parents to think of others—to seek direction from God as to how she could serve.
I definitely have to go home. And Drew will be staying on in Boston. There’s no use encouraging anything more than friendship. At least I will say my farewell with some kind of dignity, she determined.
In spite of the resolves made on both sides, Drew continued to call Belinda for engagements, and she continued to say yes to each invitation. They attended Drew’s small mission church, as previously planned. Belinda was enthralled. It reminded her so much of the small community church back home. The people were openly friendly, the singing so enthusiastic, and the Gospel presented in such a simple but easy-to-understand fashion. Belinda felt right at home. She told Drew her impressions, and he nodded and smiled, looking pleased that she had enjoyed the church.