Love Once Again

by Joann Simon

  Mary Weldon was a frequent visitor to the farm. Now the proud mother of a darling little daughter, Anne, during the summer months she'd brought the then eleven-month-old up to Silvercreek to be doted upon by her delighted grandparents. Jessica's and Mary's liking for each other had grown into as close a friendship as was possible between servant and her employer's daughter, and Mary's visits gave Jessica a much-needed opportunity to talk to a woman of about her own age; to compare notes on their growing offspring. The two of them laughed one day to see Kit's suddenly very grown-up and protective manner toward Anne when the little girl eagerly began exploring all the interesting sights in the kitchen, moving rapidly on all fours toward the fireplace when the adults' backs were turned.

  "No go there, Anne," Kit called out, kneeling down and grabbing her pudgy little hand. "Fire hot." As he dragged the reluctant baby away from the fireplace, he looked up at his mother. "We go outside. I show Anne Bessie."

  Bessie was the new calf, penned into the small enclosure by the barn. "All right, Kit, but stay where I can see you from the window."

  "Yes, Mama. Come, Anne. I walk slow," he said, holding her hand, and the little girl, just learning to maneuver on two legs with assistance, toddled along beside him toward the door.

  Since the end of the war, the community had begun prospering again. The mills were working to full capacity to satisfy the local shipyards' demands for timber. Lucas claimed that he'd already more than earned back his investment in the mill, and because of the prosperous volume of business, Bertram Beard was considering expanding his store in town. He spoke of opening an office in New York. He'd made several trips to see a banker in the city and was more than his usual jovial self around the house.

  With things going so well in business, he and Amelia had decided to throw a tremendous Christmas ball. They hadn't entertained to any extent since their oldest daughter's wedding, and the air of excitement about Amelia spread to the rest of the household as she bustled about preparing for the event. The house had to be cleaned from top to bottom, and all the extra guest rooms and the cottage prepared, as well as Jessica's and Rachel's rooms. They would be moving into Molly's room for the weekend, since every extra bed was needed. The Lathropes and several other neighbors would also put up overnight visitors, and any overflow would be directed to the inn in town.

  Bringing out all the best china and silver, Jessica and Rachel spent hours washing and polishing and carefully stacking it all away again. The ballroom was aired, the crystal chandeliers lowered and washed pendant by pendant so that the resulting sparkle was dazzling. Chairs were brought down from the attic and set up along the ballroom walls, Christmas garland hung over doorways and mantelpieces. To help prepare the gargantuan amount of food that would needed, an extra kitchen girl was brought in—Nan Constable, from the neighborhood. Almost daily during the two weeks before the festivities, delivery wagons pulled into the Beards' driveway to unload cases of wine and champagne, whole hams, and other culinary necessities, as well as linens from Beard's Mercantile.

  Amelia spent hours writing out invitations to personal friends, while a clerk of Bertram Beard's wrote out those to be sent to business associates.

  Guests were being invited from as far away as New York and New Haven, and the Beards kept their fingers crossed that the mild winter weather would continue through the end of the month. In case snow should fall, however, Ber, tram made arrangements for the hire of several sleighs to transport guests—most of whom, if traveling any distance, would be arriving by packet into Eastport harbor rather than following the rough roads overland.

  Of course, Elizabeth was in ecstasy over the forthcoming entertainment. Her altered disposition might have been termed sweet and accommodating, and if Jessica hadn't been left constantly frazzled by all the extra work in her daily schedule, she would have relished the change more fully than she then had the energy to do.

  Nan Constable would stay on to help serve at the party, and two other local men would come in to act as footmen.

  Still, both Jessica and Rachel would have a full schedule, serving, taking wraps, and otherwise seeing to the guests'

  needs.

  The morning of the ball was as frenzied as the rest of the day was destined to be. Jessica would be working rather than enjoying the entertainments, but still she found she was looking forward to the evening. The event certainly offered a break in the routine, an opportunity to see new faces.

  That morning and early afternoon, she gave the guest rooms a last-minute dusting and straightening, laid the fires, and put out fresh towels; then she went to the kitchens to assist Molly, who was remarkably calm considering what lay ahead of her that day. Kit, content for the time in his playpen in the corner, though he had long since discovered how to escape over the wooden rails, was entranced with the toy wagon and horse Jeb had carved for him. He seemed to sense that the adults had urgent business on their minds and would only be short-tempered if he disturbed them.

  Rachel was in the laundry room ironing the tablecloths, and Nan had begun bringing out the silver, glasses, and dishes to the tables in the ballroom, where light refreshments would be served. A more substantial buffet would be set up in the dining room.

  "Never thought to see so much food in this kitchen all at the same time," Molly said, laughing, as she and Jessica worked companionably together at the wide kitchen table. "Certainly nothing like it since Miss Mary's wedding, and even that didn't compare."

  "The worst seems to be over, thank goodness." Jessica

  smiled. "Though I don't know that I could have done such an efficient job as you."

  "Nonsense, child. And look at all the help you've given me. But you'd best take it slow. You've a long night ahead of you."

  "Yes. I planned to take a rest this afternoon . . . if there's time."

  "The mistress will give you time—not to worry. Though I suppose you'll have to go up and help Miss Elizabeth with her dressing. Pity you can't be going to the ball like the lady you are instead of helping Rachel with the serving . . . prettying yourself up in a new gown, fixing your hair with all those curls like you do for Miss Elizabeth. You'd be the light of the party, you would." Molly shook her head emphatically.

  "There's no point in thinking about it, Molly. I'll be putting on my new uniform, passing trays of champagne and food, and that will be that. Just the same, it will be pleasant seeing all those interesting new faces."

  "Still say it's a pity—just wish certain others in this house could have your good nature."

  Jessica chuckled, yet deep inside she did feel a pang. It had been so long since she'd dressed in a beautiful gown, pampered herself in a sudsy, fragrant bath, curled and fussed with her hair, or looked forward to an evening with nothing but entertainment, laughter, and dancing in store. She recalled so clearly that one wonderful evening when she and Christopher had danced together for the first time. How magnificent he was, twirling her about the floor to the strains of a Strauss waltz with all the finesse of the expert he was. She could remember the feel of his hand on her back, the soft words he'd whispered in her ear.

  She shook her head to force the thoughts away. Tonight would bear no resemblance to that evening.

  There'd be no dancing for her . . . and certainly no Christopher.

  Amelia Beard burst into the kitchen far from her normally coolly collected self.

  "Oh, here you are, Jessica," she said breathlessly. "Are all the rooms ready? I have been supervising in the ballroom and have not had time to check."

  "Yes, everything's ready, Mrs. Beard. I went over the rooms a short time ago."

  "Good, good. And Molly, you appear to have things going along with your usual efficiency. Do you need any more help?"

  "No, I'm just fine. Just finished up these pastries."

  "The two men will be in about four to bring up the cases of wine and champagne. If you need them for any other heavy work, Molly, just let me know."

  "Aye. Nothing I can think of at the moment
, except to help the girls bring out the food for the buffet—

  they'll be wearing their feet off later with the serving."

  "You all should take an hour this afternoon to rest. It will be a long evening."

  Molly grinned. "Can't say I'd mind putting my feet up for a while."

  "Since I am here, Jessica," said Amelia, still rushing over her words as though she had too much on her mind, "let me go over this evening's duties with you. I have told Rachel and Nan to look to you for directions. Just be sure all the serving dishes remain full. Perhaps one of you might want to be responsible for overseeing the buffet in the dining room, and the others can pass around trays of finger food in the ballroom. The two men will help in serving the glasses of liquid refreshment, but you will want to remove empty glasses and soiled dishes. Some of the overnight guests have begun arriving, so see that Rachel or Nan brings up hot water for their rooms—I have given them the three end guest rooms on the second floor, although eventually all the rooms will be used. I do not expect the majority of guests will arrive until about six or seven, and those staying elsewhere will be coming at eight. I will have one of the men in the front hall to collect hats and capes—but should any of the ladies need assistance, have one of the girls give a hand.

  As I told you, Mary will be bringing her nursemaid along to watch over Anne and Kit for the evening, so you need not worry about leaving the child alone."

  She pressed her fingers to her brow. "Dear me, what have I forgotten? Jeb's brought in firewood?"

  "Plenty," Molly nodded.

  "Then I will expect you girls downstairs by seven."

  "Of course," Jessica agreed, although she knew full well that in order to get everything accomplished, they would be at their posts long before that.

  "Good. Mary will be arriving soon, and I do want to visit with her and the baby before the place is in too much confusion. I will see you all later then."

  "If I might offer some advice, ma'am," Molly put in, "relax a bit yourself. Everything's going to go just fine, but you'll be worn to the bone if you keep aworrying."

  "I know." Amelia smiled. "I shall give myself the same advice and try to heed it."

  Jessica did get a chance to rest that afternoon. About three o'clock, she and the others went up to Molly's room.

  But as she lay back on the cot, her mind was whirling as she mentally previewed the evening ahead. She was far too restless to doze off, and supposed her aching muscles and feet would regret the lack of sleep by midnight.

  She rose and dressed in her new maid's dress, its white ruffled collar and cuffs and its snowy apron set off against dark blue. Pinning her hair atop her head, she fastened over it a lacy mob cap. When she'd finished, she knew the result was attractive, though she certainly would not be mistaken for one of the guests. After two years she was truly tired of her subservient role. She tried to shrug away the streak of snobbishness, but she knew she was above the status of maid. She belonged out there with the guests, not waiting on them and serving them their refreshments. Yet she had no course but to resign herself with good grace to the hours ahead.

  She went back downstairs at six, checking in first to say good night to Kit, who was settled with Mary's nursemaid.

  "You be a good boy tonight," she smiled, giving him a hug and kiss. "Listen to Emma and do what she tells you."

  "I will, Mama. I help take care of Anne."

  "You do that, and I'll see you in the morning. I'll be working late tonight."

  "You not sleep in here?"

  "No, but I'll be right across the hall." She saw the mischievous twinkle in his eye. "And don't get any ideas, young man, about sneaking over. That would make Mommy very angry."

  He nodded; she gave him one last hug, and went down to the kitchen. The guests who had already arrived were in their rooms, so the house seemed quiet but for the bustling servants. Molly was busy at her cooking, Rachel assisting, and Nan was running up and down stairs with buckets of hot water for the guests. Jessica went through the rooms checking to see that the various sconces and candlesticks were filled with the dozens of new candles that had been ordered in. At seven she would light them all, but now only a few brightened the interior of each room—enough to allow the servants to go about their tasks. The fires blazed in the downstairs rooms, however; the two fires in the ballroom fireplaces in particular were roaring in an effort to maintain the warmth in that cavernous high-ceilinged room.

  Jessica was thoughtful as she made her way alone from the dining room, to the parlors, on to the ballroom. How lovely everything looked, immaculate and welcoming, the brasses and mirrors shining, the wood floors waxed, the carpets freshly swept, their colors vibrant. She could take pride in all this beauty, for her own hard work was partly to thank for it.

  Jonas, a hired man, was polishing and setting out glasses at the table when she entered the ballroom. Behind him were stacked wooden cases of wine, and outside on the porch beyond the nearby French doors where they would remain chilled were the cases of champagne. Jonas looked up and smiled as she approached.

  "Everything well under control here. You ladies need any help bringin' things in, you let me know."

  "I will, Jonas, and thanks. Will you be in the front hall to take the wraps?"

  "Naw, Marcus will be. Has more of a gentlemanly air about him."

  Jessica laughed, moved across the room to check the wall sconces. She could hardly believe the transformation in this area that under normal circumstances was an empty, echoing expanse. Now many dozens of chairs lined the walls. In the far corner a velvet-draped wooden platform had been constructed for the musicians—a string ensemble Bertram Beard had hired from New York—who would play throughout the evening. The chandeliers had been lowered in preparation for lighting, after which the men would pull those heavy weights back up to the ceiling and secure them.

  She imagined how it all would look with the room filled with laughing, chattering people, the music mellowly filling the air, the candlelight all but dispelling the shadows. She would know in a few hours— unless she found herself too preoccupied by work to notice such details.

  In the kitchen Molly's plump form was bending before the oven doors. The woman turned with a baking tin full of pastry shells to be filled with a mixture of diced and spiced meat. Her face was flushed from the heat of the ovens, and once she'd set down the tins, she wiped beads of perspiration from her forehead. "Rachel's just run to the cellar, but she'll be back to fill these shells. If you like, you can start putting out the food in the dining room. What'll keep is ready there on the sideboard. What'll you be needing Nan to do?"

  "I thought since she's been running up and down stairs with water for the last hour, I'd have her help Marcus in the front hall. That will give her a little rest, Molly . . . unless you need her for something else?"

  "No, no. Rachel will give me the help I need, and we've got an hour or so before there's any need to start serving in the ballroom. You and Rachel can handle that all right."

  "As soon as I get down from helping Elizabeth dress."

  Molly snorted. "You'd think that girl would take care of her own dressing tonight, what with all the rest you have to do.""It's only to fix her hair. There's a particular style she wants that she can't manage herself."

  "Can't very well refuse, can you?" Molly frowned, and Jessica went to the sideboard to begin bringing the filled chafing dishes into the dining room; once there, lighting a candle under each to keep the contents warm.

  The next two hours went by in a blur. At seven she made the rounds of the rooms, lighting candles, adding logs to the fires; she spoke briefly to Rachel and Nan as they outlined the schedule for the evening ahead, then rushed upstairs at seven-thirty to Elizabeth's room. Although Jessica was on time, her mistress was fretting.

  "I thought you would never come, Jessica, and I cannot reach all the buttons on my gown."

  "Let me help you." As Elizabeth turned her back, Jessica easily fastened the three remaining loops,
smoothed the royal-blue satin skirt, the front panel of which was split to reveal a lighter blue underskirt. The low neckline was trimmed with soft, creamy lace, as were the long, tapered sleeves. "What a beautiful gown." Jessica sighed.

  "Do you think? I admit I am rather pleased." Elizabeth swirled before the mirror to examine herself. "And I am glad I decided on the blue rather than the rose. The color does more for my eyes."

  "I quite agree."

  "Ah, but let us start on my hair. You know the style I want. . . and do take a care, it must come out well. I want to make a particularly good impression on Terrence this evening."

  As she sat at the dressing table, Elizabeth continued to chatter. She'd already removed the rag ties that had set her curls, and her blond tresses hung in ringlets around her face. Jessica carefully began brushing through the strands, pinning them up atop the girl's head.

  "I am so excited about this ball." Elizabeth's reflection in the mirror was animated. "I have this certain feeling

  . . . Terrence will be making me an offer tonight. He has been leading toward that, telling me he has a surprise in store for me this evening. Papa makes all these noises about Terrence not yet having proved himself, but he really is being a bit fussy. Can Terrence help it if he has enough wealth that he need not trouble himself? He is so charming and well connected—and after all, it is Iwho will wed him . . ."

  "Marry in haste, repent at leisure," Jessica whispered under her breath.

  "What did you say?"

  "Nothing. You must make up your own mind. Have you told Lucas that you would consider an offer from Terrence?"

  "No, of course not. Why should I?"

  "I think he deserves to know where he stands."

  "Nonsense! Besides I do not want to give up Lucas . . . just yet. It is better that Terrence knows there are others who are interested."