Senator's Bride

by Jane Peart

  Jillian had thought that coming to America would be some kind of turning point for her, but she had not counted on its breaking her heart.

  From the May field Messenger, May 20, 1926:

  KENDALL "KIP" MONTROSE

  WITHDRAWS FROM SENATE RACE

  In a statement issued from his downtown campaign headquarters, Kendall "Kip" Montrose announced he would no longer be a candidate for the office vacated by the early retirement of Senator Wilcox. Citing "compelling personal considerations" as the reason for his decision, Montrose left the hotly contested race only a few weeks before the election.

  This announcement came as a surprise to most political pundits who had predicted him to be the likely winner of the race. His decision raised speculation as to what those reasons might be. Some have suggested that it might be the threat of an undisclosed scandal that could have proved embarrassing to the candidate. This was vehemently denied by his supporters and campaign workers as "scurrilous rumors." Sources close to Montrose feel that it is more probable that the recent serious illness of his six-year-old son, Lucien, has been the motive for his withdrawal. In the last few weeks, Montrose has scarcely left the child's bedside, canceling many scheduled events. In the interim, the gap between him and the other leading candidate, Frank Maynard, has narrowed considerably.

  Both candidates, who are strongly divided on issues, have campaigned hard for the senate seat. It is believed that Montrose's decision will assure Maynard of an easy victory over the two other men vying for the senate position.

  Kip Montrose is well-known locally as a veteran, having served as an aviator with the Lafayette Escadrille, the American volunteer arm of the French Flying Corps during the recent Great War. A daring ace, decorated by the French government, Montrose is credited with downing more than fifteen German planes.

  Asked to comment on Montrose's withdrawal, Maynard, a local lawyer and also a member of one of Mayfield's oldest and most prominent families, said, "I have great regard for Kip Montrose. He was a vigorous campaigner and a formidable opponent. I am sorry he has felt compelled to withdraw from the race, and I wish him well."

  On election night, Cameron Hall was humming with excitement. Tension mixed with anticipation tingled in the very air, no one daring to voice either their hopes or their fears about the eventual outcome of the race. Some time tonight—no one was sure just when—the last vote would be cast and counted, and all their work in Frank Maynard's behalf would either pay off, or would have been an exercise in futility. But either way, they would know before the night was out.

  Scott and Frank would remain at campaign headquarters until all the returns were in. Then they would bring the final count to Cameron Hall, where preparations were underway for a victory party. No one even whispered the word defeat.

  Early in the evening the ladies began getting dressed. In their room, Lynette confided to Bryanne that she was planning to wear her emerald-and- pearl engagement ring in public for the first time. Win or lose, she and Frank would be married at the end of the summer.

  "Since you'll be my maid of honor, Brynnie, we must pick out your dress soon, and a Gainsborough hat, I think, with a sweeping brim."

  At first, Bryanne had dreaded the thought of her sister's being swept up into the political and social circles she would enter as Frank's wife, afraid she might lose the sister she had only lately come to know. But as time passed, she had found a firm niche for herself in Lynette's heart and knew that they would never lose each other.

  About seven o'clock, when the polling places in the district officially closed, guests began to arrive at Cameron Hall. The atmosphere was a strange mix of optimism, apprehension, doubt, and confidence. People conversed in animated groups, their mood festive. The halls, both parlors, the music room, and the library were already filled with supporters, ready and eagerly waiting to celebrate their candidate's victorious race.

  Blythe had hired a band, and music swelled above the buzz of conversation and laughter. Some of the couples were already dancing. Garnet, always in her glory on these occasions, drifted through the rooms as if this were still her home, and she the hostess.

  Bryanne helped Grandmother Blythe set out the refreshments—platters of fresh fruit, cheeses, an assortment of sliced cold ham and turkey, pitchers of iced tea, urns of coffee on the buffet in the dining room. Huge vases of fresh flowers from the garden adorned every table. Everything was in readiness for the announcement of the winning candidate.

  The evening wore on, too slowly for the waiting crowd. Some impatient ones decided to leave, drive into town, and check at campaign headquarters to see how the votes were coming in, then report back. Others were just enjoying this excuse for a party.

  After a while, Bryanne slipped away from the lighted rooms, the sound of laughter, the clink of glasses, and went upstairs to freshen up. She was giddy with excitement and needed a moment to catch her breath.

  Pausing in her room before the long mirror, she checked her dress. She was wearing the white muslin that Jillian had assured her was so becoming and had put up her hair for the first time tonight. She was feeling very grown-up and pretty . . . as Sean had often hinted. Then she whirled around and into the hall and ran back down the first flight of stairs.

  Just as she reached the landing, she heard her name spoken in that slight Irish accent that she recognized at once. "Are you comin' or goin'?" he asked with a trace of amusement in his voice.

  "Coming!" she called out gaily and sped down the rest of the stairs.

  "I thought we might have a dance before the evenin' is completely over," Sean said, holding out his hand to her.

  It was close to midnight when Scott and Frank finally arrived. A cheer went up that set the prisms in the chandelier dancing. Both men looked flushed and a little disheveled. Frank's gaze searched the room for Lynette, who was standing a little apart from the crowd. Scott was looking for Jillian and found her, her hands pressed together over her pounding heart.

  "Well?" shouted someone in the room. "Don't keep us in suspense any longer. Who's our new state senator?"

  Part V

  Summer 1926

  chapter

  28

  WITH THE ELECTION OVER and Blythe and Lynette off to New York to shop for Lynette's trousseau, Cameron Hall was strangely quiet. After being the hub of the political campaign, a peaceful calm had descended over the house and gardens. Except in Jillian's heart. There a stormy conflict still raged.

  Should she submit her resignation to Mrs. Devlin now instead of waiting until she was given an official notice? Maybe she should leave. It was becoming more and more difficult to be around Scott, and she was somewhat relieved when he went off with Frank on a fishing trip to North Carolina right after the election. Both men, exhausted from the frantic pace of the campaign, needed to get away. Although Jillian missed him dreadfully, it was even more painful when he was near, yet so far out of reach.

  Garnet was back and forth between Avalon and Cameron Hall, fretting over the kind of wedding that Lynette and Frank had chosen. She complained constantly to Jillian about it. "What better place than here at Cameron Hall? Why, Vagabond magazine featured the house in their 'Most Beautiful Southern Homes' issue. And the grounds and gardens, especially by the end of summer, will be spectacular, ideal for a large reception." She paused, then declared emphatically, "No matter what Lynette thinks she wants, a small wedding is out of the question. Why, our families have lived here for generations, and we'd offend so many of our friends if we left them off the guest list."

  Jillian listened politely, making no comment. What could she possibly contribute to such a discussion? After all, she wasn't part of the family . . . and soon would be completely out of their lives for good.

  It was clear that Bryanne no longer needed her. The girl, infatuated with young Sean McShane, was living in a world of her own. One Jillian was not about to intrude, nor give away their secret. First love was too precious, too fragile to risk the possibility of others know
ing, possibly objecting.

  On a day when Bryanne had disappeared to go riding with Sean, and Mrs. Devlin was in Mayfield visiting old friends, Jillian had the place entirely to herself. Taking a book out to the gazebo, she sat down and let her mind wander. She had no idea how long she had been sitting there when she was startled to hear Scott's voice.

  "Penny for those thoughts."

  She jumped. "Scott! What are you doing back so soon?"

  "We came back a day earlier than planned. My lovelorn companion was restless, wanted to get back to his fiancee, only to find she's off to New York. May I join you?" he asked, putting one foot on the steps to the gazebo.

  "Of course!" she replied, feeling both elated and dismayed. All these weeks she had been avoiding being alone with Scott. Now there was no way she could escape without appearing rude or foolish.

  "I feel a little at loose ends," he admitted sheepishly. "I've been so caught up in the treadmill. Now that it's over. . . . "

  "Did you enjoy your vacation, the fishing?"

  "Maybe this will surprise you. But even while we were in the mountains, I'd wake up some nights in a cold sweat. Know why? Because I'd dream I had actually been elected and now had to do something about all the things I'd pointed out were wrong with our state government!" He chuckled, then turned to regard her long and steadily. "Want to know the other part of the nightmare? It was . . ." He halted, weighing his words—"that if I had won the election, I might have lost you. That is . . . I wasn't sure how you would have felt about being a senator's wife."

  "What?" She looked at him startled. "What on earth are you saying?"

  "Remember the day we were in the library together and were interrupted by Aunt Garnet's tantrum? I was about to tell you then. Of course, right after that I got caught up in Frank's campaign strategy. And when they agreed to put my name on the ballot as a ploy, and the momentum began to build . . . well, I didn't dare say anything until we knew the outcome of the election."

  Jillian stared at him incredulously, hardly able to believe what she was hearing.

  "I'd like to finish that conversation we started that day in the library. We were talking about the possibility of Bryanne's going away to school in the fall. I intended to ask if you had any plans of your own when that happens. Then I was going to suggest one of my own for your consideration."

  Jillian held her breath. "And what was that?"

  "First, I want to know if you have been happy here in Virginia."

  "Yes, very happy." Her voice was little more than a whisper.

  "Then would you consider staying on at Cameron Hall . . . as my wife?"

  Wordlessly Jillian stared at him. Hope quickened her heart, brightened her eyes. Was it possible that her dream was about to come true at last?

  Scott frowned. "Have I presumed too much? Perhaps there's someone else, someone in England."

  Jillian shook her head. "No, Scott, there's no one. . . ,"

  "So . . . what is the answer?"

  "Yes, Scott. The answer is yes! I love you. I just never dared to think . . ,"

  What she was about to say was lost. He drew her gently into his arms and kissed her, a slow, infinitely sweet kiss. When they drew apart, Jill's eyes were shining, bright with tears.

  He kissed her again, and her mouth was warm and yielding under his. Feeling the security of his embrace, Jillian sent up a small prayer of thanks. It was the beginning, not the end, of her great adventure in America!

  When at last they heard that the tide had turned and that Luc was on the way to a full recovery, there was rejoicing throughout the Cameron household. They had all become fond of the child in the time he had been here in Virginia, at Montclair.

  Relieved that the crisis was over, Blythe went into action. She packed a basket with not only all sorts of delicacies to tempt the sick child's appetite but other foods that Mattie, still busy with nursing chores, might not have had time to prepare. Kitty had told her mother that she felt she could now safely leave her patient and asked if Scott could bring over her car and a change of clothes.

  "Will you follow me over in my car?" he asked Jillian. "I may be a little while. If I can see Kip, I'd like to mend a few fences."

  "Of course." Jillian was delighted. It would give her an opportunity to see the house she had heard so much about.

  A smiling Mattie opened the door for them and went at once to tell Kip he had callers. In the circular hallway, Jillian's attention was captured by the paintings hanging on the wall alongside the main staircase.

  "Those are the mistresses of Montclair," Scott explained. "All the Brides of Montclair . . . from the first to the most recent—Phoebe McPherson—Kip's Scottish stepmother."

  Jillian moved closer to get a better look. At the bottom of each frame was a narrow engraved brass plaque identifying the bride. She was especially taken with the portrait of a beautiful young woman with tumbled black curls and an English-rose complexion. She was wearing a gown in the fashion of the 1700s—crimson velvet, its low, square neckline ruffled in gilt lace. When she read the name under the portrait, "Noramary Marsh Montrose," Jill gave a little gasp and was about to ask Scott about it when Kip came bounding down the stairs.

  Now that Luc was out of danger, Kip was euphoric and greeted his old friend as if there had never been a rift or any animosity between them. He and Scott launched into an animated conversation about local events, and there was no chance for Jillian to interrupt to ask her nagging question.

  Could this exquisite creature possibly be the ancestress her Uncle Greg had told her about? The little girl who had been sent to the colonies? Had she later married a Montrose and become the first bride of Montclair?

  Jillian was bursting with curiosity, but this was obviously not the time to ask Kip about it. With a small bubble of inner happiness, she kept quiet, knowing that there would be a time later when she and Scott were married and living here in Mayfield. Then she would find out everything she wanted to know about this extraordinary link between herself and Noramary Marsh!

  Jillian had wanted to be married in the small, gray stone church in Mayfield because it reminded her of the one in Kentburne village. But June was one of the busiest months for weddings, and the church had been completely booked for weeks. Because Scott felt he couldn't take any more time off from the newspaper and didn't want to wait until the church was available later in the fall, they set July fourth as the date of their wedding.

  However, the day before the wedding, Jillian asked Scott to accompany her to the little church. There beside the man she loved, she knelt at the altar rail to ask God's special blessing on their life together. At first, wishing only to comply with her request, Scott himself was surprisingly touched by a feeling of deep peace, a confirmation that he and Jillian were indeed entering into a "marriage made in heaven."

  The next afternoon, at Cameron Hall they met in front of the great fireplace to exchange their vows before a small gathering of family and friends. The hearth had been decorated with ferns, masses of peonies, and burning tapers in tall candelabra for the ceremony. Everyone, especially Bryanne, thought the bride was the picture of grace and refined elegance in a cream-colored linen suit, lace-collared crepe de chine blouse, amethyst-and-pearl jewelry.

  Moved by the beautiful vows—"for better or worse, in sickness or in health, for richer or poorer"—Bryanne winked back tears. Of course, she knew, Jillian was marrying for richer. The Marsh family had lost everything at the end of the Great War, Jillian had been poverty-stricken, forced to work for a living. At last she was coming into the life she was born to, the one she deserved. Bryanne could picture Jillian after she moved in here as Scott's wife. She would give dinner parties and move with grace and charm under her new husband's adoring gaze.

  Bryanne's own gaze traveled through the small group gathered in the drawing room until it rested on Sean's blond head, then back to see Jillian just turning from the improvised altar—the new Mrs. Scott Cameron. She looked so serene, with a smile that s
eemed to be savoring a lovely secret. The secret, Bryanne guessed, was one she was just beginning to understand. To love and be loved by another. What greater happiness could anyone know?

  chapter

  29

  Now THAT Mattie's sister-in-law, Vonnie, is coming to help out so Mattie can spend more time nursing Luc, you won't be needing me anymore," Kitty told Kip.

  Kip put his hand on her arm. "I'll always need you, Kitty. I can't tell you what your being here with me during all this has meant to me. I couldn't have gotten through it without you."

  She patted his hand, then gathered up her things and headed for the door. "I'm glad I could be here. But there were moments, I can tell you now, when I was really scared," she admitted. "Thank God, Luc's come through."

  "I intend to . . . thank God, that is," Kip said seriously. "But Doctor Madison says you're the one to thank for the fact that he has no lingering problems." He gazed at her fondly. "You're a splendid nurse."

  "Just take care of him." Kitty walked out onto the porch and headed for her little car.

  Kip followed. "Kitty, what can I do to repay you?" he asked as she slid under the wheel.

  "I don't expect any repayment, Kip. I'm just grateful it has all worked out so well."

  "Kitty, I . . . " Kip started to say something, then thought better of it. "Just thanks, then, from the bottom of my heart. I'll call you in a day or two. You must come over. Luc will miss you."

  "I shall, soon." She smiled and turned the key in the ignition. "'Bye, Kip," and she was off.

  Kip stood watching the little roadster turn the bend in the driveway and disappear in a cloud of dust. A wild idea began to form in his mind. Was it out of the question? He'd have to wait, find the right time, then see what Kitty's reaction would be. Thoughtfully, he rubbed his chin, feeling the stubble. He kept forgetting to shave. He smiled to himself. It had seemed so unimportant over the past few weeks.

  Kip looked up at the scaffolding newly erected on the side of the house. Even in shirtsleeves, he was already feeling the heat of the midday sun. Did he really want to get on that ladder and start painting the siding?