by Tori Anne
The only person that could have put them near to her hands, subtly, was… “Why…you, I suppose.”
“And who has discussed Edward Forest’s keen talent and passion to some of Henry Bergh’s prosperous colleagues so that he might attend New York University’s new College of Veterinary surgeons on scholarship, and after which have a job in the most prestigious horse-farm in the country?”
Her mother handed her a leaflet showing a fine Derby horse and extolling the virtues of the “Blue-grass State.” It was an advert to tour a grand, Kentucky Horse-farm that featured the very latest in “veterinary sciences.”
“Between Bergh’s patronage and his talents, he will undoubtedly garner the employment of such prominence and renown that your father wouldn’t dream that anyone less would do for his daughter to continue the Callen tradition of ‘moving upward.’ Don’t mention it to your father but I hear the suffrage movement in Kentucky needs all the soldiers they can get.”
Marie’s mouth gaped.
Mother all along had been the one encouraging her sensibilities? Mother had arranged all these grand plans? Mother had seen straight through to what was best for her, for her heart? Had she been spying? Thankfully her father was rather ignorant of such things, but her mother…was…
“Genius!” Marie cried. “You are a pure and utter genius and the salvation of my soul!”
“There. I daresay I deserve that sort of acclaim. I’ve spent years on this task.”
“You’ve been preening Edward for me for years?”
“No, I’ve been preening Edward for himself for years. Nothing warms my heart more than a man who could be a brute who chooses his mind and his heart over his bulk. He’s so very gifted and so very kind, I could never live with myself if I didn’t try and open doors for the boy. Devilishly handsome, too, which doesn’t hurt.”
Marie blinked, her world suddenly, completely, and joyously upside down, as well as agitated with guilt for not sooner realizing her mother was a saint.
A thought occurred to her. “Why on earth did you marry father?”
Her mother smiled. “Because through your father I knew I could get things done. Under the guise of fashionable philanthropy. The struggling classes will never get anywhere on their own. They’ll need friends. What your father forgets is that a mere generation ago, the Callens struggled. Fiercely. Against oppression, racism and the classes above; the story of every immigrant family. His moral soul would do well to remember it, but if he won’t, then I’ll remember it for him. Moral high ground aside, he was devilishly handsome too, years ago.”
Marie chuckled. She glowed with fierce pride. She had the best mother in all the land. And her dearest Edward had a chance to be everything he wanted and deserved to be. And she’d be by his side, wherever they landed didn’t matter, she’d change the world from wherever the world placed her…
Her brow furrowed. “Where is Edward going again?”
“Why, the College, of course, here in New York. Once we string the Phillips’ along a bit more, we’ll have Bergh’s associates come for dinner and say what a fine and well-paying job Edward will have upon graduation. He’ll come calling soon after.”
Marie threw her arms around her mother.
She pulled back. “And the money in the envelope?”
“It’s for tuition. A grant from the ASPCA. I told Mrs. Bergh how Edward behaved in the park that day.”
“But why didn’t you just say so?” Marie said, maddened.
“Because it was a test.”
Marie’s eyes widened.
“Being the rash girl you are, I assumed upon seeing a lump sum you’d suggest running away with it. If Edward let you convince him to do so, then I’d track you both down and put you both under lock and key for the rest of your lives for your impulsiveness. My faith in Edward Forest remains unshaken.”
Marie’s jaw dropped. She felt a bit like prey being toyed with in a predator’s jaw. Her mother chuckled. “I love you too much not to see you well taken care of. Besides. Where do you think you learned your own love for machinations?”
“Clearly I learned from the best! Without even knowing,” Marie said with an amazed little laugh. “I do hope Edward now knows where he’s going.”
“I should hope so, Bergh himself picked him up this morning.”
Marie squealed. She wished she could have seen the look on his face when he saw his hero in the cab. No wonder he’d been smiling up at her so joyously.
“Now if you’ll help me we’ve a flurry of things to do, Marie.”
“Do we?”
“Why yes, we’ve a Christmas party to throw! I thought you’d like to hand deliver this invitation.”
Her mother handed her a card that said “Mr. Edward Forest, Scholarship Student, The New York College of Veterinary Surgeons.”
Marie beamed, her face glowing with joy. Her mother’s eyes grew misty. “Now that look, my dear, is worth every headache you’ve ever given me.”
Chapter Seven
A chamber quartet was playing “Deck the Halls” in the corner of their downstairs foyer.
Marie was nervous. She hadn’t seen or heard from Edward. He’d been nowhere to be seen when she arrived at the front desk of the college, hopeful and bouncing, his invitation in her hand. Her mother assured her he was likely being given the grand tour. The man at the desk assured Marie that he would be most certain to promptly deliver the note, and in seeing the wide look in her eyes he declared he dared not hesitate to deliver it upon fear of hysterical repercussions.
She kept watching the beveled glass of the front door, pretending to be enrapt in the music as she stood at the threshold of her entrance hall.
It felt like ages since she’d seen him. In reality, it had been three days. Three days felt like eons when your world had been upturned and settled once more on its proper axis.
She kept checking herself in the mirror. She’d worn a dark blue dress, the color of morning glories, which sharpened the blue of her eyes and made her fair skin glow. Her brown hair had suitable luster, she deemed, Bernice having painstakingly perfected the twists and ringlets atop her head, with a sprig of holly on each side as an accent. Bernice also had tailored the dress last minute so that its neckline would plunge further at an angle of great advantage, claiming that whether it was all the rage in Paris or not—though she had it on good authority that it was—the desired effect would be clear.
A passing tray of champagne caught her eye and she plucked a glass from the butler, needing something to occupy her nervous hand. The bubbles tasted flat on her tongue. Funny, without Edward even champagne had lost its sparkle. She wondered how in such a short time someone could have so gloriously changed one’s entire perceptions.
But then, seeing the shining good of a man’s soul, as she did when Edward so effortlessly and patiently held back the driver’s harsh whip that day in the park, while his other hand doled comfort to the creature in need, had the power to make all else seem mundane.
A huge laugh heralded the entrance of a tall man with a wide moustache and a presence as big as his heart. Behind him, strode a tall man in a fine new hat and a dashing black suit, a box in his hand, peering inside and devastating Marie with one exhilarated grin.
Mrs. Callen poked her head around the corner, seeing that her daughter was steadying herself upon the doorframe and thinking it might be a clue.
“Mr. Bergh! Mr. Forest! How good of you to come!”
“Wouldn’t have missed a chance to visit the Callen residence for all the world, Mrs. Callen, especially not when Edward here can’t seem to stop extolling the virtues of the place.”
Edward blushed, but he hadn’t taken his eyes off Marie the moment he walked in the door and saw her down the hall.
“And where’s Mrs. Bergh?” her mother asked.
“Giving the dogs at the makeshift shelter Christmas biscuits. She’ll be along with her friends shortly. Now who is this?”
Marie looked up at Mr. Bergh.
“My daughter, Marie Callen. Marie, Mr. Henry Bergh.”
Mr. Bergh took her hand.
“I…” Marie felt tears sting her eyes. “Mr. Bergh, I am so honored to meet you. What you’ve done… It’s like I’m meeting a saint…”
Mr. Bergh laughed merrily. “How flattering of you to say, but I’m Unitarian, we don’t have saints.” He winked at her before turning to Edward. “Not bad, my boy, not bad at all.”
Edward, Marie, and Mrs. Callen all blushed.
Mrs. Callen took Mr. Bergh by the arm and led him into the foyer. “Mr. Bergh, you’ll have to give my husband some time to get used to that idea—”
“Oh, give me five minutes with the man and I’ll straighten him out.”
Mother and Mr. Bergh were immersed in the throng of guests, and Marie was left standing in the hall with Edward, still blushing.
He remembered himself and took off his hat. He extended the box to Marie.
“Hello, Marie. It’s frightfully good to see you.”
Marie looked around a moment, set her champagne glass down on the side of a stair, shoved him around the hallway corner and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him briefly, furiously and drew back with a half-sob. “I should say so!”
Edward grinned. “Life is wonderful. I suppose your mother told you what she and the Society have done for me?”
“Yes and I promise I’ll do everything she ever asks of me from now on to repay her.”
“Open the box.”
Marie opened the box to find an exquisite corsage of morning glory buds, lily of the valley, and a white rose. The flowers that reminded him of her.
She breathed a soft sigh and offered it up to him to pin it upon her. His hands trembled as he pinned it to her dress, his eyes trying not to focus on her gloriously displayed bosom and failing.
Marie giggled.
He adjusted the corsage and straightened, looking down at her proudly. “You look positively breathtaking.”
“As do you.” She gestured to his new suit. “Goodness.”
Edward gestured to her flowers. “In the middle, do you see that silver band?”
Marie glanced down at the corsage and nodded, seeing a flash of silver glint in the light of the wall sconces.
“That’s just in the meantime. Until I can get a proper ring, and until I’m approaching the sort of future I’ve been promised, and can talk to your father and prove myself. But I want you to have something of my pledge.”
Tears fell from Marie’s eyes and he wiped them gently, smiling.
“The answer is yes, Mr. Forest,” Marie murmured, “and I’ll wait for you, and follow you, to the ends of the earth.”
Edward bit his lip. “Even Kentucky? I’m not sure it’s terribly metropolitan.”
Marie laughed. “Even Kentucky.”
Edward glanced up at the mistletoe tacked to the lintel above their heads, and glanced around at the grand Callen estate, a place and a world that was suddenly no longer an unwelcome barrier. He looked down, and his handsome face was radiant with gentle joy. “It is the season of miracles after all. Merry Christmas, my future Mrs. Forest.”
Marie closed her eyes, drinking in the sound of their union. “Merry Christmas, my hero and my husband.”
He kissed her gently in the quiet of the hallway as the chamber quartet lifted their bows to their strings and began to play “Lo, how a rose e’er blooming.”
Author’s Note
The hero and heroine of this tale, and their families, are imagined, as are the situations.
Henry Bergh, however, was blessedly real. And so is his legacy: the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, which was founded to end rampant cruelty to horses in New York City in 1866.
Learn more at www.aspca.org
A word about the author...
Tori, a Minnesota native, graduated with an English degree and a love for all things historic. She lives with her husband in New York City, where she gathers inspiration for her historical tales every time she walks out the door.
She has two other short historical romance titles available with The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
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