“It’s lovely,” she exclaimed with a sigh. “I consider myself so very lucky. When shall we be married?”
He smiled at her winningly, his teeth white and straight. “Within a month, I assure you.”
She let out a disappointed sigh full of longing. “Oh, must we wait so long?”
He took her hand in his and kissed it once more. “I am afraid that I could not condone anything less. I am a man of honor and wish for there to be no question as to your virtue and honor. I want to be sure that no one might question your station here, and thus want you to be both established and positive in your affections for me before we take that final leap into forevermore bliss.”
His words were just as poetic in person as they had been in his letters to her. She didn’t know how such a man could weave such beautiful sentences together; he must be a dream! She was charmed instantly once again and nodded her assent, despite the tiniest bite of uncertainty in the back of her mind.
Why would her honor be at stake for marrying too soon?
“Now, might I escort you to your temporary housing until such time as our glorious day of union?”
She nodded and allowed him to take her by the arm and walk her out back towards the much smaller, three-bedroom house that was several feet removed from the house. She liked it very much, though it was much smaller than the other house, and felt that she would enjoy her stay in it, even if it put some distance between her and the man she loved.
“Now, I am afraid I must leave you,” he lamented, holding her hand over his heart as though trying to stop it from breaking.
“What?” she said, thoroughly disappointed. “But… I only just got here!”
“I know, dearest, my flower, but I have business that I must tend to in town. I’m afraid that it simply cannot wait.” At her look of dejection, he added, “Besides, you must be tired. I insist you rest and once you are refreshed again, I will come to you and we might learn more of each other’s passions.”
Her heart thrilled at the word passions, though propriety demanded she blush and pull her hand away. “You tempt me so, but I am a chaste woman.”
He smiled at her sweetly. “I meant only passions of the mind and heart, not of the flesh. I would never be so bold and reckless with something so precious as you.”
And with that, he left her to return to town. She wished he might stay; they had so little time together yet. But she reminded herself that he would return and they had a whole month to learn of each other before the day of their wedding.
Chapter 5
Despite her determination that she was not in the least tired, Catherine found herself dozing lightly on the soft bed provided to her. When she awoke, the sun had lowered only slightly; she hadn’t slept for long. Even that short nap refreshed her so, and she gathered up her skirts, straightened herself out, and decided it was time to get her bearings. She’d been given only a very short tour of the house and even less of the grounds, so she thought that if Arthur was not yet home, she might look more thoroughly through the rooms and perhaps explore some of the sprawling expanse beyond the home.
She walked out of the little guest house and the first thing she noticed was that there was a second guest house. She surmised that it might be for the servants so that they might live nearby and be of better use that way. It also meant far less travel for them, and a quiet, decent home away from the dirty and grime that often came with city expansion. Following the path Arthur had led her down earlier, she headed back towards the larger, main house—it really was huge. She entered through the same door that Arthur had escorted her from.
She debated whether or not she should knock. It would be her house soon and she ought to be comfortable, but it was all so new still. She settled for a light rap on the door as she pushed it open. “Hello?” she called, but no one directly answered. She wondered if the servants were off doing other things or if they perhaps were tending the land instead.
Catherine entered and continued down the hallway, where she found a wide sitting room with a fireplace for the cold winters as well as some blankets that could easily be tossed over for comfort against a brief chill.
As Catherine made her way around the house, she noted that it was quite nicely decorated and not at all what she had expected of Nebraska. She had presumed that she would have her work cut out for her leaving the safety of New England, but all of this was like a dream—even better than anything she ever could have hoped or wished for.
Just then, there was a rumbling from outside that caught Catherine’s attention, informing her that Arthur had likely returned. Excitement filled her as she rushed towards the front of the house.
As she came close to the front door, she paused once she heard the sound on the other side of it: not just talking, but giggling. A woman’s laughter.
“—so charming, Arthur!” said a beautiful young woman with flaming red hair pulled up into a very fashionable twist as she entered the house. Tendrils framed her heart shaped face and she had flashing green eyes with a mass of freckles splattered across her cheeks.
Catherine was frozen in place as Arthur followed in behind her, his hand hovering somewhere near the small of the woman’s back.
For a moment, all of the air seemed to be sucked from the room and Catherine thought she might suffocate right then and there.
Who was this woman?
The other woman caught sight of Catherine a fraction of a second later, and the smile that had been on her face so gaily only a moment before had transformed into a horrified grimace.
“Arthur,” she asked, trying to regain her composure. “Is… is this your sister? You didn’t mention you had a sister.”
Arthur opened his mouth to respond, but fury had overwhelmed Catherine and she snapped before he could say anything. “I am most certainly not his sister! I am his—his—!” Catherine didn’t know how to finish that sentence. She wanted to say wife, but that wasn’t true. Then she thought perhaps fiancé was appropriate, but she couldn’t seem to force the word from her mouth, so instead she just floundered and gestured wildly with her hands as her cheeks grew red with embarrassment.
The other woman’s green eyes were wide and growing quickly panicked. She turned towards Arthur, but couldn’t seem to tear her eyes from Catherine.
Finally, she gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth, true horror shining in her features. Then she finally turned to Arthur. “You have a mistress?!”
This was the final straw for Catherine. She had been called many things—boyish for working at an arms company; childish for wearing ribbons; naïve for looking so young—but she had never been accused of being a mistress!
“Oh, no, my dearest, my flower, she isn’t—” Arthur began to try and explain, but his eyes were darting between the two women and his expression no longer showed the smooth confidence Catherine had seen earlier.
Stepping forward, Catherine addressed the woman; she didn’t know what to do with Arthur yet. “I am not a mistress! I’ll have you know that I am a respectable young lady with intentions towards marrying Mr. Miller here! I have corresponded with him and—”
“Wait,” the redhead interrupted rudely, turning away from Arthur and his babbling attempts at explanation. “You corresponded with Arthur Miller?”
Catherine, unsure about her question, nodded her head. “That’s right. He intends to marry me.”
The woman’s eyes sparked angrily, but it was not an anger directed at Catherine. Rounding on Arthur, she jabbed a finger into his chest aggressively. “You scoundrel!” she accused heatedly, taking Catherine by surprise. “You wrote to two of us?”
For a moment, Catherine didn’t understand what she was talking about. When the other woman’s words finally settled over her, however, she felt her heart drop somewhere low into her chest. Horror filled her; this couldn’t be true.
“Two?” Catherine repeated in a small voice, sounding so much like the child everyone pictured her to be.
“Tell her,” t
he woman demanded, folding her arms across her chest. “Tell her now.”
With a sigh and a slump of his shoulders, he agreed.
They settled in the sitting room in order to have their discussion. Arthur sat on the couch, but Catherine refused to sit near him until this was all settled—there had to be some sort of mistake—so she chose a chair adjacent to the couch. The other woman refused to sit at all and instead remained standing, her bright green eyes staring down at Arthur angrily.
“I put an ad in the papers in New York, Connecticut, Delaware, and Vermont,” he began, doing his best to regain his composure. But the illusion of charm and grace seemed shattered. “I had an overwhelming number of responses.”
Catherine listened patiently; this wasn’t really news. He’d told her of his endless efforts to find a bride already.
“It allowed me to be… choosey. So I wrote to several of them, but there was no spark. I politely informed them that I was simply not interested. Then I tried again. I thought it was all but hopeless until I found you.”
Catherine’s cheeks warmed and a small smile formed on her face. He did love her after all. Then it was shattered.
“Both of you.”
The smile disappeared and dread filled her. How could he say something like that?
“You can’t say that!” Catherine told him angrily. “You can’t have two women!”
He shook his head and waved his hand a little, dismissing her outburst. “I don’t intend to marry you both.”
The redheaded woman shot him a glare, her green eyes narrowed shrewdly.
“I simply needed to see which of you I enjoyed more.”
“Enjoyed?” the other woman repeated to him angrily. “And just what is that supposed to mean? Did you need more confirmation of our personality? Were our outpourings of emotion through those letters not enough for you? Or are you speaking of something less innocent?”
When Arthur didn’t answer, Catherine felt sick. Surely, he wouldn’t have…?
The redheaded woman scoffed and shook her head, dainty curls bouncing about her features. “Oh, you are truly a rake. You would defile us and ruin our chances of a decent, wholesome marriage for your own pleasures? You are a dog and a scoundrel.”
Catherine was absolutely horrified. Oh, how wrong she had been about this man! This man she had intended to marry! What would have happened if she had stayed out in that little guest house until he’d come for her? Would she have discovered this other woman at all? Would she have only learned of her as he turned her out, having decided that this other woman was his true wife?
“Rebecca, please, understand,” Arthur pleaded, but the thing that struck both women was that he was pleading with Catherine.
The redhead unfolded her arms, walked over to where Catherine was sitting, and said, “I’m Rebecca.” With that, she grabbed Catherine by the arm and hoisted her up. In her shocked state, Catherine allowed the other woman—Rebecca—to pull her up. “And we are leaving this instant! You’ll take us into town now, or we’ll have one of your servants do so when they return. You owe us that at least!”
What could Arthur do but acquiesce to the two women? He took them into town begrudgingly—he spent the entire trip to try and convince one or both of them to reconsider their decision, but neither woman would even speak with him—and when they finally arrived, he opened the door only to plead with them further.
“Beatrice is a nothing town!” he told them, but Rebecca had her head held high and was still dragging a slumped, sorrowful looking Catherine behind her. “You’ll do far worse here! I—I’ll not pay for your lodging!” he shouted as a last attempt at getting their attention. He did succeed in getting the attention of several other groups, including that of a wagon train that had only just rolled into town. It was a motley group of men and a couple of women, all of them dirty, and all of them staring at Arthur as though he were a particularly ugly part of the landscape. Embarrassed, Arthur huffed that they were both worthless wenches anyway, and promptly rode back out of town.
“Do you have much money?” Rebecca asked Catherine as they headed towards one of the two inns in town. It looked slightly more reputable than the other.
Catherine looked to the other woman finally. She was still dazed, but slowly began to come out of it. They were standing on the porch outside the inn and Rebecca was looking at Catherine seriously, though not with malice.
“Dear, what’s your name?” Rebecca asked when Catherine remained silent.
“Catherine. Catherine Stuart.”
“I’m Rebecca Jones, but everyone calls me Becky. Well, everyone I like.”
Catherine wasn’t sure which name that meant she was supposed to call the woman. “So, shall I call you…?”
Laughing a little, the other woman said, “Becky. You should call me Becky. We’re in the same spot, you and I. It’s neither of our faults now, is it?”
Thinking it over slowly through her sluggish mind, Catherine eventually nodded. She was right; this wasn’t their fault.
“I can’t believe he would do such a thing,” Catherine whispered.
Sighing, Becky said, “Unfortunately, I can. I’d hoped he was a better man than that, but there’s always some truth to the old saying: if it seems too good to be true, it probably is.”
Catherine nodded again.
“Come on now. Let’s see if we can find ourselves a place to sleep for the night.”
As it turned out, neither of the two women had much in the way of money. It wasn’t through any fault of their own; they had come expecting to be taken care of. Catherine came from a family with limited resources, though she was surely better off than most. Becky was from a family with six children, all girls, and knew that her family couldn’t afford much of anything in the way of financial support for her. It was a large part of the reason that Becky had so willingly left New York—oh how Catherine gushed over New York!—to come across the country for a man she hadn’t known. Her family desperately needed the help and Arthur had promised to offer her a bit of that.
Still, the women had enough money for a single room with a wide bed in it. They had to share it, but they both agreed it was far better than staying even a moment longer with that devious man.
When morning came, they would go over their options.
Chapter 6
The next day, Catherine felt better. Not great, just not terrible. The events of the previous day weighed her down significantly and she felt incredibly naïve for having fallen for such a trick, but she felt better knowing that Becky was there with her in solidarity.
“I’m afraid I don’t have enough for another night,” Becky commented after she’d washed up a bit. She was quite lovely, Catherine decided, her red hair long and curled and her frame a pleasing hourglass shape. Catherine was nearly positive that Arthur would have picked her had they stayed to let him decide.
Becky was pinning up her hair just then, frowning at the small vanity mirror that came with the room.
“No, nor I,” Catherine confirmed, though they both already knew that. “What are we to do?”
“Well, you might consider writing to your family,” Becky commented, but her tone did not sound overly confident on this option. “Of course, the problem is, you would still be here for some time before they might get you the money to return home. You would have to find a way to stay until then at least.”
Catherine’s heart dropped a little. It wasn’t just about the money or about Arthur; the prospect of returning home defeated sounded dreadful to Catherine. This was supposed to be her big adventure! Her chance at a fun, exciting life. Well, it had certainly turned exciting, but not in the way she had hoped for.
“I don’t think that’s an option,” she said, though it was a bit of a lie. Her family likely wouldn’t be able to get her the money for some time, but her uncle would most definitely help where her mother could not. “I must find a means of staying.”
Becky glanced at Catherine through the reflection
and Catherine wondered if the other woman had detected the lie. If she did, she didn’t comment on it.
“Very well. As you know, my family situation makes it impossible to return home. Let’s see if we can find a solution together, alright?”
Catherine nodded. It was odd, but when she’d first laid eyes on Becky, the woman seemed like the worst person in the world. Now, Catherine was so grateful to have her there, and she could not imagine being there without her.
They started by talking to the innkeeper. He was a short, portly man with a wife and three daughters, all of them under the age of ten. They ran around through the kitchens and out back and when Becky explained their situation, he stared at Catherine with big, watery eyes.
“I can’t let you stay for free,” he explained, but he said it like an apology. Catherine deflated, but he quickly added, “However, I can make an exchange. You two ladies know how to work?”
Becky nodded her head. “You bet we do. I worked eight years as a maid and two as a seamstress.”
“I worked for an arms company during the war,” Catherine added quickly and Becky gave her a surprised, but pleased look.
The man nodded. “Good. Then I’ll make you a deal: you work for me, do the errands I need, and in exchange I’ll give you two meals a day—same as my girls—and that one room you’ve got. I’m afraid it’s the best offer I can make.”
Becky looked quickly to Catherine, her eyebrows raising in silent question. When Catherine nodded her assent, Becky offered her hand to the man and they shook.
“You will start today.”
Chapter 7
The work wasn’t easy, but both women were grateful for it. Catherine had done household chores before, though she hadn’t worked nearly as much as Becky had. Since the age of fourteen, Becky had been out working to help support her many sisters. It made her faster at things than Catherine, but they worked equally as hard. By the end of the day, they were exhausted, but relieved to have a place to stay.
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