by Jane Peart
"Here we are then," announced Stanton, braking the buggy. He sprang lightly out, then came around to hold out his hand to assist Addie down. As if by some silent call, a young man in a short green-jacketed uniform appeared to unload and carry Addie's trunk inside.
Stanton took off his hat and bowed slightly, saying, "When Mrs. Amberly has completed her treatment at the bathhouse, one of the attendants will accompany her back here. In the meantime, may I suggest you make yourself comfortable? I'll have some refreshment sent over, and perhaps you can rest a bit before dinner. I trust you will find everything to your liking. If you have need of anything—anything at all—simply ring the bell, and one of our chambermaids will come at once."
"Thank you, Mr. Stanton, you have been most kind, most gracious."
"My pleasure, I assure you, Miss Pride." He bowed again and left.
His manners were so perfect. Why was it he reminded her so strongly of the "riverboat gambler" her father had strenuously told her to avoid? Even at age eleven, Addie had thought the man dashingly attractive—just like the illustrations of the swashbuckling pirate in her storybook. And without doubt, Brook Stanton resembled him. Was Stanton also a gambler? And would her father have warned her against him as well?
Chapter 3
The front door opened into a small parlor. Stepping inside, Addie looked around with immense pleasure. She had been on the road for so many weeks, dealing with all sorts of discomforts, inconveniences, and all manner of accommodations from wretched to passable, that this cottage was a welcome change. Lace-trimmed curtains hung at the shuttered windows. The furniture was not as elaborate as the furniture in the lobby, but it was in excellent taste. A love seat and two armchairs were placed in a conversational arrangement, and fresh flowers in cut-glass vases were set on the marble-topped table.
An archway led into a narrow center hall, with a door at its end and two doors on either side. The door at the end was a bathroom, equipped with modern conveniences and a white porcelain tub mounted on claw-footed legs. The other two must be the bedrooms.
She knocked lightly on the closed door but, receiving no answer, assumed this must be Mrs. Amberly's bedroom. The door opposite had been left open, and in that she saw her trunk had been placed.
In there everything was light and fresh. The sleigh bed of bird's-eye maple was banked with ruffled pillows, and covered by a white embroidered coverlet, which matched the curtains at the windows. Outside, the garden was bright with autumn flowers, and Addie could see the blue ridge of mountains beyond. An armoire, a bureau, and a washstand of the same golden wood, a small desk and chair, and a comfortable upholstered armchair completed the furnishings.
Addie circled the room. She looked at everything and stopped to touch the soft, clean towels on the rack beside the washstand. She picked up the lavender-scented cake of soap in the fluted dish and sniffed it appreciatively. What luxury! After last night, how glorious it would be to wash off all the gritty soot, grime, and dust of the train.
She was tempted to use the tub in the pristine bathroom, but she was not sure she had time to do so before Mrs. Amberly returned. Meeting her employer was a rather daunting thought. What if the woman hated her on sight! That was too foolish a thought to waste any time about. Whatever happened, she had signed a year's contract with Sophia Amberly, only to be broken if Addie proved dishonest, immoral, or committed anything deemed injurious to her employer's reputation or property—none of which was likely to occur. Still, Addie wanted to freshen up so that she could look her best.
Untying the veil, she took off her bonnet, then unbuttoned the tiny covered buttons of her basque, unfastened the hook and eye of her waistband, and stepped out of her skirt. She unlaced her corset and tossed it aside. It was a relief to be rid of the whalebone stays for a few minutes. What an instrument of torture! Stupid! How cruelly the current fashion dictated the ideal woman's waist to be twenty inches or less!
Pulling out her hairpins, she shook her hair down and dug into her valise for her brush. Bending over, she brushed her hair until it crackled. She fastened it back from her face with a ribbon, then poured water into the bowl and began to scrub away the residue of her journey until her clean skin glowed and tingled. Quickly she rewound her hair, drawing it up into a figure-eight chignon at the nape of her neck.
The surprising warmth of the November weather prompted the decision to unpack something lighter weight to wear.
She unlocked her trunk and lifted the lid. On top of her neatly folded petticoats was a tissue-paper-covered square. She hesitated a few seconds, knowing what it was. Then she slowly unwrapped it and drew out a silver-framed photograph. For a long tender moment, she looked at the picture of the handsome young man, resplendent in his newly acquired Confederate uniform. Lt. Randolph Payton—how proud he had been the day he rode over to Oakleigh to show off the splendid spotless tunic, the yellow silk sash, the gilt epaulettes, his then-unused sword. And how tragically soon that uniform was battle soiled, blood-soaked when he fell, his horse shot from under him, himself mortally wounded, at Antietam....
Gazing at the clear-eyed, untroubled face, Addie felt a hard lump rise into her throat. Feeling a deep sadness for all that he represented, all that was lost, a mist of tears blurred his confident smile....
What had Aunt Susan said over and over? "We must put the past behind, forget, and go on—" Addie shook her head, saying to herself, "Auntie's wrong. If I did that, who else would remember him? If I did—it would be like Randy never existed. I don't want to forget him—or anything else. It would be like saying it had all been for nothing. I can't. I won't."
Holding it a minute longer, Addie studied his image, then put the picture on the top of the bureau beside her silver-backed dresser set. Determinedly, Addie continued unpacking, putting away her things in the bureau drawers, and hanging her dresses and jackets in the armoire. Then she emptied her valise. In it were the three books she had traveled with: her small leather Bible, the George Eliot novel The Mill on the Floss, and her journal.
For some reason, Addie suddenly thought of the tall stranger at the train depot. Would she ever see him again or learn who he was? An involuntary shiver passed through Addie as she thought of that uncanny sense of recognition she had had when their eyes met—as though they had met and known each other somewhere before—almost as if he had been waiting for her to arrive!
What foolishness, like a schoolgirl's daydream. Sternly, Addie jerked herself back to reality, reminding herself that she was nearly twenty-six and long past such silliness. She put the three books on the bedside table and took out a cotton blouse with a tucked bodice and demure collar and cuffs, suitable for her new position as "paid companion."
She had just added her mother's cameo brooch for a finishing touch when she heard voices and footsteps outside her open window coming up on the cottage porch.
"I hope all this is doing me some good!" a high-pitched female voice complained. "What possible benefit is it to soak three times a day in that bubbly mineral water, I'd like to know—it's bad enough to have to drink that stuff without then being steamed in it like a lobster—"
"Well, ma'am, Dr. Willoughby is convinced that these treatments are very beneficial, and you will feel like a new person entirely when you leave here in the spring—," a quiet confident voice replied.
Addie stood quite still in the center of her bedroom. Should she go out and introduce herself right now? Or should she wait until Mrs. Amberly was back in her own bedroom? Possibly she was in some measure dishabille if she were returning from treatments at the bathhouse. Caught in anxious uncertainty, Addie asked herself if it would seem too forward if she did. Or if she hesitated and did not make her presence known to her employer, would Mrs. Amberly think she was sly or devious or worse still, awkward, without social graces?
As she hesitated, she heard huffing and puffing, the shuffling of slippered feet along the hallway; then a door was unlocked, opened, then closed again.
Addie let out
her breath slowly. For the moment, the decision had been taken out of her hands. She felt, however, that she should speak to the attendant, let her know she had arrived, and perhaps ask her what she should do about meeting Mrs. Amberly.
Opening her door, she waited until a white-uniformed figure emerged from the other bedroom and came down the hall.
" Hello!" the rosy-cheeked, middle-aged woman greeted Addie. "I'm Letty, the maid assigned to this cottage, as well as one of the bathhouse attendants. You must be Miss Pride. Mrs. Amberly's expecting you. In fact, she's been fretting, wondering when you'd get here. I guess she was expecting you sooner?"
"Well, transcontinental travel does have its drawbacks!" Addie declared with a smile. "The trains don't always leave on time or get there when they're supposed to either. I've come from Virginia and there were quite a few unpredictable delays along the way."
"I suppose so. I came when I was little girl with my family in a wagon train, so I don't remember much about it. I was only three years old, but I know my poor mother said never again. And she never did."
"Should I go in to see Mrs. Amberly now?" Addie asked.
"I'd give her a few minutes, if I were you. I helped her get dressed, but I wouldn't disturb her right away." The woman lowered her voice. "She's probably having her little toddy." She gave Addie an elaborate wink. "Strictly against doctor's orders, of course. But at the prices, who's going to stop her?"
Addie did not know what to say to this unexpected piece of information.
"Well, I best be on my way. My day's done. And I suppose yours is just beginning. Good luck, dearie. I think you're going to need it."
With this, Letty went out of the cottage, leaving Addie wondering what awaited her beyond the closed door at the end of the hall.
Chapter 4
Addie knocked tentatively on the door and heard a voice whose tone was to become familiar in the days ahead. "Yes, it's open. Come in."
Addie hesitated a second before turning the knob and entering the room. It seemed to be empty with curtains drawn. The room was shadowy. Addie took a few steps further, looking around for the person who had spoken. Then someone said sharply, almost accusingly, "Well, so you've come."
Addie whirled around to see a large, round figure seated in the corner in a chair, feet propped up on a hassock. A grossly fat woman, overdressed in a tasseled, bell-sleeved purple taffeta of enormous frills, pleats, and braided trim. Her small pig eyes were almost lost under the puffy lids. Her small flat nose and down-turned mouth were bracketed by ballooning cheeks. Addie's immediate first impression of her employer was the woman's resemblance to pictures she had seen of the aging English Queen Victoria.
"Mrs. Amberly?"
"The same," came the curt reply. "And you, miss, I presume are Adelaide Pride."
"Yes."
"Well, first things first, I suppose. I am here because of my health—very precarious—I have dropsy, a swelling of the tissue, as you can see, as well as rheumatism—all of which I have been told—practically promised by Mr. Stanton, these mineral water baths and so on—will cure!" She gave her head a little shake, setting the ruby and diamond pendant earrings swinging from her drooping earlobes. She waved one pudgy, heavily ringed hand impatiently. "But I've heard that kind of fairy tale before at other spas in Europe, as well as back east. I'm simply hoping the California climate will help."
"I'm sorry," murmured Addie, not knowing what else to say.
"You needn't be sorry. I don't like people who talk a lot of nonsense. Now, let's get your duties straight. I do need help walking to and from the main lobby—the attendants fetch me and bring me back from the bathhouse after my daily treatments. So, there really isn't that much for you to do, so I expect you to spend your time profitably. I like to be read to, so you will avail yourself of the local library, which Mr. Stanton assures me is well supplied, and get me my hometown newspaper, which comes by train from San Francisco. It's a week late, but I still like to keep up on things—stock market report and such.
"I want you available if I want something extra—morning and evening snacks, that sort of thing. I have a hard time hobbling around on these poor feet. That's the reason I don't like being waited on, but I do like to have what I want when I want it." She pursed her lips for a moment before continuing. "Do you play cards, whist? You may have to fill in if we cannot get a fourth, or if some of the guests I've been playing with should leave—that's always a possibility. If my health improves, I may want to take some short side trips—to the Lake Country or Saint Helena. You would see to those arrangements. I may think of some other things, but for the present that is all, I suppose." Mrs. Amberly frowned. "I dislike change, and my cousin Ella was my companion for a number of years, but when I decided to come out West, she refused to accompany me. Afraid of Indian attack, she said! Ha! Can you imagine such stupidity in this day and age?" Mrs. Amberly looked disgusted. Then she jangled the jeweled necklace that hung around her neck and lifted the magnifying glass attached to it and checked a watch pinned to her shelf-like bosom with a diamond bow knot. "It's almost time for dinner and since I move slowly, we better get started."
It took Mrs. Amberly a number of attempts and several minutes to heave herself out of her chair. Addie had not known whether to move forward to assist her or wait until she was asked. Mrs. Amberly was an uncertain quantity just now. Addie realized she would have to bide her time, learn to know when to offer help or when to resist the urge to do so. Mrs. Amberly seemed easily offended, so that, at the moment, tact seemed the best thing.
Once on her feet, Mrs. Amberly leaned heavily on Addie's proffered arm, and they made their slow, ponderous way across the courtyard to the dining hall.
Mrs. Amberly made little attempt at conversation, even omitting the questions about Addie's trip that one might expect out of ordinary courtesy or even curiosity. Instead, she kept up a running commentary, mostly negative, on the other guests at Silver Springs as they entered the dining room.
All through the long dinner, Addie was more and more appalled by her new employer's comments on everything and everybody, from their waiter to the other guests dining in the large, windowed room. Everything she said was critical or sarcastic. She complained about the service, and declaring that her meat was too rare, sent it back; when it was brought back, she said it was "burned to a crisp." It didn't take Addie long to realize Mrs. Amberly was a selfish, self-centered person who cared little for anyone but herself.
Addie had noticed the curious looks in her direction from the other diners and knew she was under speculation. As they were finishing their dessert, two of the other guests, the Brunell sisters, Elouise and Harriet, stopped by the table. Mrs. Amberly was saccharinely sweet and amiable. Of course, since Addie's presence could not be ignored, an introduction was unavoidable and done with very poor grace. Addie stifled the rush of resentment, finding it galling to be introduced as "my hired companion." From the Brunells' rather startled reaction, Addie realized that designation put other guests at Silver Springs in an awkward position of not knowing exactly how to treat her. She felt humiliated and inwardly outraged by it.
Addie was relieved and grateful that almost immediately after the Misses Brunell had left, Brook Stanton came over to the table.
"Good evening, ladies." He included them both in his smile. "I hope you are finding everything satisfactory."
Mrs. Amberly immediately became a different person. Simpering coyly, she waggled a fat finger a him, saying, "So where have you been the last few days, Mr. Stanton? None of us have seen you."
"In the city on business."
"Visiting some lucky ladies there, I'll wager." Mrs. Amberly screwed up her small mouth into a smile she must have thought looked teasing but only looked malicious.
"Afraid not, Mrs. Amberly. You give me credit where none is due. Rather they were several portly gentlemen with whiskers and beady eyes, inclined to be more parsimonious than gracious." His eyes moved admiringly over to Addie. "It seems I must
return to Calistoga to be in the presence of charm and beauty."
Mrs. Amberly darted a glance at Addie, and for a moment, her mask slipped. As Brook turned toward her again, she quickly rearranged her expression. Only Addie had caught the look of open indignation. In the snap of a finger, she knew with alarm and surprise that her employer was capable of petty and unprovoked anger.
She had no time to dwell on the realization, however, because some of the other guests leaving the dining room passed by and nodded to Mrs. Amberly, saying, "Come along, we're ready to play."
Brook took that as a cue. 'I'm sure you must be anxious to get to your regular game, Mrs. Amberly, and I'm also sure Miss Pride must be weary from her day's travel, so suppose I escort her to the cottage this evening for an early retirement. Later, when you are finished with your game, Mrs. Amberly, I'll see you safely there."
Mrs. Amberly seemed as if she were about to object, but Brook had already moved to her side and was assisting her from her chair. He continued a smooth line of pleasant conversation as the three of them strolled out of the dining hall and over to the main building.
They left Mrs. Amberly at the door of the game room where card tables were being set up, and Brook, with Addie on his arm, went out the front entrance. It was a beautiful evening, mild, with stars overhead sparkling.
"Calistoga welcomes you with one of its lovely evenings, Miss Pride. We sometimes get early fog this time of year in the valley, but not tonight."
They walked along in silence. Addie realized suddenly that she was very, very tired. But also that it was an emotional weariness rather than physical.
Her mind was numb, and she could think of nothing to say to the gallant Mr. Stanton and thought he must think her either rude or completely lacking in the minimal social graces. That, however, did not seem to be the case because before leaving her at the cottage porch, he said, "You are going to bring something to Silver Springs that I hadn't realized was missing before you arrived, Miss Pride. Youthful beauty, grace, and a certain instinctive charm that have been sadly lacking among my guests."