by Ruth Trippy
He looked up. “Dearest Celia, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“Edward! Yes, yes, with all my heart.”
He rose and drew her to him, kissed her hair, her forehead, her face. Then his lips sought hers.
Finally, she drew away. “These last weeks, I felt our oneness of mind and soul in so much, but was wounded to think we didn’t share what was most important: oneness of spirit.”
She reached up to tenderly touch his face. “I knew I needed to remain strong and leave the Chestleys, giving God time to work in your heart. Truly, I did not know how it would be accomplished, you with such a fine mind, who holds such strong opinions. I prayed and prayed. But thanks be to God.” She clung to him.
“Words sweet to my ears.” He laughed softly. “Words like those must be celebrated.” He bent down and pressed his lips to hers, long and hard. Then he lifted his head and his eyes looked triumphantly into hers.
Just then a knock sounded at the door, and a little girl’s voice asked, “May I come in?”
Celia parted from Edward, but he kept her hand firmly in his. “Yes, come in.”
The little girl opened the door cautiously and peeked in. “Mother said it would be all right.” The boys followed close on her heels. They all wanted to meet the new Edward, now that he would be part of the family.
“Celia said you’re a good archer,” the second-oldest brother offered.
“She did, did she?” Edward glanced at Celia fondly, his lips twitching.
“Our friend Willie down the street has a bow and arrow,” he added. “We can make a target, so we wondered if you could show us how to shoot better.”
“I can see what you boys will want for Christmas,” Celia said. She smiled at Edward, then grimaced at her brothers. “I suppose you may have him in a few minutes, but you must remember I’ve waited to be with him for weeks.”
Edward smiled at Celia’s siblings. “Could I have her a few more minutes . . . alone?” As her sister and brothers filed out of the room, he said, “I’ve already talked with your father about staying over Sunday. I want to hear him preach, worship in your church. And see where you went to school, view the town, and the like.”
“Edward, how absolutely wonderful. The people in our little town will all want to meet you. Are you sure you know what you’re in for?”
“Such eagerness will be a welcome change after the last—what has it been—three years? I wouldn’t mind an adoring town.”
“Maybe you should move here.”
“Well, I have plans you don’t know about. I spoke with Mr. Chestley before leaving. He wants you back in the bookstore, and I want you nearby—to court you, my dear. I have yet to persuade your father.”
“I’d like to be married here, in my own church,” she said softly.
“Of course. We both want your father to marry us.” He squeezed her hand. “My mother and whoever else of my family that attend the wedding might stay at your grandmother’s a night or two. It makes it very convenient your town is on the train line from Boston. And I’m contemplating a reception at the Harrods’.
His mouth twitched into a half smile. “I think Mrs. Harrod will accept the fact you will not be her daughter-in-law. I’ll butter her up with promises of letting the garden club meet in my conservatory. And will generously support their cause. In time, I’m sure it will dawn on her she will see more of you by marrying me than if you had married her son. I hear he is to stay in Boston practicing law.”
“You’ve been a busy man.”
“Regarding you, I certainly have,” he said. “Am leaving no stone unturned, want no toes stepped on. I want to deserve my wife in the town’s eyes, redeeming myself as best I can.” He planted a kiss on the back of her hand. “Someday I will be viewed as a paragon of men. People will cease to wonder how I deserved you, but rather think what a lucky catch you made.” He laughed and Celia couldn’t help laugh with him.
How delightful, she thought, to see him happy and making plans. Plans for both of us. As the day went on, she was amazed how easily he fit in with her family. No stiffness or undue formality. Her brothers adored him. She had to smile. Saturday afternoon when giving them pointers on archery, he used her as a guinea pig. As she held the bow and arrow, he ingeniously put his arms around her to show her brothers how to better aim. She blushed to feel him hold her thus, because, of course, he was the complete gentleman around her family with little or no physical contact. Her family, liking him as they did, wanted to spend as much time with him as his short visit afforded. She could tell, however, he yearned to be alone with her. His eyes would repeatedly catch hers.
Sunday evening after the worship service and their usual light supper, the family headed toward the sitting room as was their custom. Edward stepped up to Mrs. Thatcher. “As I will be leaving in the morning, do you mind if I take Celia for a walk?”
“Can I come, too?” her little sister asked. As soon as she did, the youngest boy chimed in as well. The two older boys held back. Celia had just given them a quelling look.
“I think a walk would be a nice idea,” Mother said. She looked down at her two youngest. “But why don’t we let Celia and Edward go by themselves. The night air is mild, perfect for a walk for just the two of them.”
Edward held the door for Celia and extended his arm in escort. With the moon lighting their way, they strolled very properly in such a manner, sharing thoughts they hadn’t been able to say in front of the family. But as they turned toward home, Edward put his arm around Celia, and as they walked, held her close. The last stretch they said little.
Under the deep shadow of a tree, Edward stopped. He turned and put both arms around her. “You know what I want before we go to your house, don’t you?”
In answer, she lifted her arms, encircling his neck. In the near darkness, she saw him smile at her willingness, no, her eagerness to accommodate him. He lowered his head and touched her lips with his, lightly at first, then ardently. At length, he lifted his head, breathed deeply, and said softly, Thy lips . . . as the honeycomb: honey and milk are under thy tongue. A quote from the Song of Solomon, my dear. You see I read the entire Bible. If you only knew how your loveliness entwined me when I read Solomon’s Song.”
“Oh,” she whispered, “I will have to reread that book.”
“Why don’t you do so after our marriage. Or maybe right before the nuptials. I would not have you think wayward thoughts before we are married, my love.” He laughed. “Then afterward, you can think such thoughts about me all you wish.”
To hear him laugh! It brought warmth and eagerness to her soul.
He lifted her up at the waist and held her close, planting a quick kiss on her ear. She laughed, delighted, but tried to keep her laugh soft.
“Celia dear,” he said when he put her down, “we better return before it gets any later, or your father might take back his blessing.” He reached for her hand. “We’ll start now, if you promise me one more kiss at the door.”
“But if I will not promise?”
“Then I will be forced to—” He seemed at a loss for words.
She laughed. “Promise only one kiss?”
“You, my dear, are headed for trouble!” They both laughed again and hurried the remainder of the block to the house. At the door, he stopped, and she made good on her promise.
30
I’m glad our adopted daughter finally came home.” Mrs. Chestley patted Celia’s hand, sitting near her on the couch. “It took you awhile, but you’re finally here. I knew Mr. Lyons, now our dear Edward, would convince your father.”
“Well, you didn’t sound so confident a week ago,” her husband said.
“Don’t remind me, I don’t even like to think of it. But with her back at her job in the bookstore, I am delighted to be your full-time wife again.”
“Amen!”
Mrs. Chestley turned to Celia. “I was just filling in, you know. The whole time I believed you and Edward would get together
, that is, after you turned down that Jack fellow.” She leaned over to her husband. “Mr. Chestley, aren’t you glad now I told everyone she had merely gone home for an extended visit, so that she could return to us without undue speculation?”
“I see you’re delighted only you and I know the whole story.” Mr. Chestley sat back in his chair and slapped his knees.
“Of course. I like to be in the know on some things. I think Mrs. Harrod guessed, but we do have the inside track with you, don’t we?” Mrs. Chestley patted Celia’s hand again.
A knock sounded at the door. Mr. Chestley rose to open it.
“That will be him, I suppose.” Mrs. Chestley added in a whisper, “You look ravishing in the rose-colored dress, my dear.” As Celia stood, she added, “Be sure not to stay out long. I want to have you home with us. Call it selfish, but there it is.” She looked up as Edward entered. “Besides, you know it isn’t proper for you two to be out alone too late.”
Edward chuckled. “I see I have traded one set of chaperones for another. I hardly saw Celia alone when I visited her parents last month, and now I’m encountering the same obstacle.”
“As well you should,” Mr. Chestley said. “When Celia first came to live with us, I promised to be her adopted father. In addition, I said to the world in general, and now I say to you in particular, that all men must first get my approval before claiming her hand.”
“I hope I have your approval, sir.”
“You do. And you have won her heart, we can all see that. So, go along now, but I’ll have to second Mrs. Chestley to bring Celia back in a timely manner.”
As they walked from the house, Celia said, smiling, “Do you think you can put up with the two hens? Mr. Chestley is as much one as his wife.”
“I think I can. It will only be a few months until our marriage. And you, my dear, are worth it.”
“Thank you. I suspect as the Chestleys and I get back into a routine, they will ease off a bit. They are just so delighted at my return—but they have you to thank for that.”
“I had quite a time convincing your father. He and your mother thought you should stay home and plan the wedding. They finally agreed on our present arrangement, you to help with the initial planning those first weeks, then return home the last month before our marriage.” He reached to cover her hand on his arm. “But for now I want you here, near me. We need to become better acquainted. I promise to be the perfect suitor. Neither your parents nor your adopted ones will have any fault to find.”
He was leading her toward the road to his home. She stopped as they turned into it. “Edward, what’s happened? Where is Mrs. Divers’s house?”
“I bought the property. To save and rebuild the house would have required a lot of work and expense, so I decided to take away what was left of it. Come to my place and we’ll walk the path I made to adjoin the two properties. I want you to see it from that vantage point.” A minute later, they entered his drive.
“You know Mrs. Divers forgave me at the end. I never heard her actual words, but Miss Waul told me she whispered them the day before she died. Miss Waul was always fair-minded. I think she tempered her friend’s thinking, even when Mrs. Divers hated me the most. Oh, she would always take Mrs. Divers’s part out of loyalty, but after the fire I found Miss Waul more than kind.”
“What has become of her?”
“I wrote her a recommendation for the companion position she holds in a neighboring town.”
Celia looked up at him. How she admired this man.
They crossed the backyard then to a wide path that adjoined the two properties. As they approached the clearing of what had been Mrs. Divers’s place, Celia stopped. “It all looks so different.”
“Yes, fill still needs to be brought in and the ground leveled, but we are well on the way. I decided I want a clean slate. Just like my life.” He paused, looking over the changed scene. “I must confess, even though I forgave my neighbor, the thought of getting rid of her damaged house and the memories it represented, was a relief.”
“The best thing to do under the circumstances.” Tenderness swelled in Celia’s heart. “What are you going to do with the property?”
“Make it a garden. A friend of mine from Boston will plan the bones, the structure, supplementing it with additional trees and shrubs, and then you and I, my dear, will add to the landscape, choosing our favorite plants and flowers. I’ll enlist Ned’s help with the planting, of course.”
His eyes scanned the property. “The place will need more care than Ned and I can give it. I thought of that young Loydie. As the house was being razed, I came on him standing rather woebegone, gazing at the property. I believe that boy had a soft spot for Mrs. Divers, she seemed a grandmother of sorts. In fact, now that I remember it, the day we sent off her things to her sister, there was a box of junk to be thrown away, and the boy took one look inside and claimed it for his own. I’m thinking of hiring him to help with the gardening, training him to tend the yard.”
Edward smiled. “Besides, he seems to know his way around this place. I suspect that boy has been up to more than meets the eye. His energy needs to be turned to good account or he’ll get into mischief.”
Edward guided Celia back to his home. At the edge of his own yard, he stopped and became pensive. “Are you sure our wedding must wait until the spring? A December one couldn’t be managed?” He took her in his arms. “Oh, Celia, sometimes I think I can’t wait that long. My bed will seem cold and lonely this winter.”
“Edward.” She clung to him a long moment. “I had thought about making it earlier, but to ask my mother to do all that work in such a short time, making our dresses and all, I just couldn’t.”
“I suspected as much.” He gently put her from him. “You know as much as my flesh wants you, wants you now, I would never dishonor you. The fear of God is in me—after reading the Bible—and I know what He says about fornicators. More than that, I could not betray the love Christ has shown me.” He looked at her seriously a moment, then added, “Knowing all this, another idea has been brewing.”
“Oh?”
“It involves the upstairs of my house. When Marguerite was ill, I took a secondary bedroom and let her have our room. Now, however, I think I will knock down the wall between the two bedrooms to make one large room with a dressing room at either end. I want old memories shed there, too. While the work is being accomplished, I can use a room downstairs for a bedroom.”
Celia felt wonderful anticipation welling up at the elaborate plans.
“I will purchase a new bed for our room. And other furniture as well. When we travel to Boston to visit Mother, we can choose it all.”
Celia knew her family could have never done anything like this. Wouldn’t have been able to afford it. How cared for and cosseted she felt.
He looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. “I need to have something keeping me busy this winter, waiting for you. Mrs. Chestley has said she wants you by her side, but I don’t believe she knows what it is to feel need.”
He laughed ruefully. “Now, I feel the need for a brisk walk. But first—” He chucked her under the chin, then leaned over and gave her a quick peck. “That’s all you get for now, Miss Thatcher. Take my arm. Any matron happening to look out her window will see a sedate couple taking the air, deep in discussion. Meat and potatoes first, then dessert.”
He placed her hand more firmly on his arm, then paused, apparently thinking better of his hasty decision. “Maybe, a little dessert first,” he said and bent down and claimed a sweet lingering kiss. He looked into her eyes, smiled, then drew away with decision and led her across his lawn.
A deep sense of contentment filled Celia . . . to be so loved and desired. A little impatience needled her, too, but she knew a spring wedding would be best. If nothing else, the town needed to accustom itself to this change in Edward. She wanted the townspeople here to appreciate him as much as those in her hometown.
When they arrived at the drive, Celia l
ooked at the maples and oaks on either side. The scene before them had an air of quiet distinction, like Edward himself. Fall had arrived with leaves turning yellow, orange, and red. Just about this time last year, they had met. And not many months hence, they would begin a new life together. This would be her home, and she would walk this beautiful avenue many times.
“Now,” Edward said, leading her down his drive at a leisurely pace, “I know Emerson is not your favorite writer, but I read something the other day I want to discuss with you. But looking at this beauty,” he lifted his free arm and swept it around to indicate the foliage surrounding them, “I want to first quote Milton.”
. . . when the air is calm and pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against Nature not to go out and see her riches, and partake in her rejoicing with heaven and earth.
Celia stopped suddenly. “Mr. Lyons, I beg to differ with you, and with our dear Milton.” She looked up at him with mock horror. “Sir, ’tis not an injury against Nature, not to go out and see her riches, for who is Nature?’ I can see we will have much to discuss in the coming months.”
She squeezed his arm affectionately, holding close a little longer. “It is an injury against God not to see His riches.” Her eyes smiled into his. “Don’t you agree, my love?”
Discussion Questions
1. Seeing Mr. Lyons is so particular about the books he orders from the bookstore, why did he choose to overlook or forgive the ripped page?
2. How does Mrs. Adams change as the story progresses? Cite specific ways in which she displays a new side of herself.
3. Contrast Celia’s belief in God and the Bible with Mr. Lyons’s Unitarianism.
4. During this time Unitarianism opened the way for individuals to believe in Transcendentalism. Describe this way of thinking and who represented it in literary America.