by Lisa Harris
“That makes your idea even better.” Luke leaned back in his chair, his expression serious. “Though I’m afraid I’m guilty on that account.”
Rebecca wrinkled her brow. “What do you mean?”
“Take, for instance, the street vendor I bought the flowers from. I gave her an extra twenty cents to buy something to eat, but that’s a far cry from getting involved in someone else’s life and making a difference. Giving money, while important, is easy. Looking into the face of one of the street children and becoming a part of their lives takes things to an entirely different level. And by the way, you need to talk to my mother about your idea. I have a feeling she’ll want to get involved.”
“Thanks.” Rebecca smiled. “I’d planned to.”
Luke stood up from the bench then stretched his arms behind him. “I hadn’t intended to stay long. In fact, I don’t think I ever told you why I came by.”
“No, you didn’t.” A small part of her wondered if he had come by to ask her if he could call on her in a more formal manner. And a small part of her suddenly longed for him to do so. Could she dare allow herself to daydream about the possibility of a future with him? A home surrounded by a beautiful garden, children …
“My mother wanted to make sure you could still come by early in the morning to finish hanging her draperies in time for the party.”
Rebecca swallowed her disappointment. “Please tell your mother I’ve finished the panels and plan to hang them in the morning.”
Who was she to think that Luke Hutton, a sophisticated Bostonian from a well-to-do family, would be interested in her, a simple farm girl?
“Good. Then if I don’t see you before tomorrow night at my mother’s party, I’ll look forward to seeing you then.”
Rebecca watched as Luke stepped out the door into the morning sunlight. The whole situation was ridiculous. Obviously his visits meant nothing more to him than the fact that he was passing on messages from his mother. It was all business. She glanced at the flowers and ran her fingers across one of the soft petals. And the bouquet, of course, was nothing more than an attempt to help a poor little street vendor. His actions showed he had a heart for the down-and-out, not an interest in her. All the same she had the distinct feeling that if Luke Hutton ever did ask permission to come calling, she’d say yes without a moment’s hesitation.
He had to tell her. How he could have let things go this far, he wasn’t sure. Of course, it wasn’t as if he’d officially asked if he could call on her. He’d come close to asking her several times, but what respectable man in his position would dare act on his desires? And he had no idea how she felt about him. Did she share his interest, realizing his frequent visits to the shop stemmed from contrived excuses to see her? Or were her friendly conversation and bright smile simply the way she dealt with all her clients? Either way, she had to know he was leaving. He’d see her tomorrow at his mother’s party, and somehow he’d find the courage to tell her the truth.
five
Rebecca stood in front of the beveled mirror in the upstairs bedroom of Aunt Clara’s home and gazed intently at her reflection. The invitation to Mrs. Hutton’s birthday party gave her an opportunity to wear the gown she’d made for herself from one of Caroline’s paper patterns. The emerald green satin hung gracefully from her waist with a fashionable tier of frills down the back. Her mother’s hair ornament, with its glimmering rhinestones shaped like a butterfly, made the perfect finishing touch.
Letting out a deep sigh, Rebecca chastised herself for taking extra pains over her appearance tonight. Luke obviously wasn’t going to ask if he could call on her, despite the number of opportunities that had arisen the past few days. He was simply charming, generous, handsome … and loved bread pudding. Period. More than likely she had run him off with her incessant babbling over Mrs. Lincoln’s iced tea and how much she loved peppermint cakes. Didn’t the basic rules of etiquette state clearly that ladies should avoid talking too much?
She hadn’t considered what Luke Hutton thought about her until he looked at her with his dreamy eyes and lopsided smile. Trying to catch hold of her emotions, she worked to straighten the wide satin ribbon at her waist. For a moment she wished she were back home in Cranton. She missed her family. Missed the gray-shingled farmhouse surrounded by lush acres of farmland, apple orchards, and stately elms.
Not that Boston wasn’t a fascinating city. She’d come to enjoy the constant bustle of activity, as well as the contrasting majesty of the Atlantic Ocean. Still, she missed her younger sister Sarah’s laughter and her brothers, with Adam’s gentle teasing and Samuel’s stories stemming from his sense of adventure.
A sharp rap on the door jarred Rebecca from her somber thoughts. Aunt Clara entered the room with a bright smile on her sweet, wrinkled face.
“I’m almost ready,” Rebecca said.
Aunt Clara waved her hand. “Ben just arrived home and won’t be ready for another few minutes, so you’re fine.” She glanced in the mirror and pushed back a silver wisp of her hair, which was complemented by her olive-colored dress, then chuckled softly. “He’s not a bit pleased that I’m making him wear a dinner jacket to Patience’s party tonight.”
Rebecca couldn’t help but laugh, knowing very well how opposed he was to formal attire. “You know Uncle Ben would do anything for you. He adores you.”
After two and a half years of marriage, the older couple still acted like newlyweds. Rebecca frowned at the sudden thought of marriage and newlywed bliss. She still had no regrets over stopping her own nuptials, but the longing for marriage and a family still compelled her—almost as much as it frightened her.
Aunt Clara smoothed down the folds of her dress with the palms of her hands and eyed Rebecca intensely. “Why the sad look all of a sudden?”
Rebecca sat on the cream-colored quilt her grandmother had made years before. “I’m a bit homesick, I suppose.”
“Did something happen?”
“Not really.” Nothing more than foolish daydreams about a handsome shipbuilder. Hadn’t she learned her lesson about love once before? But Luke seemed so different….
“Then I believe that tonight is the perfect remedy for your doldrums.” Aunt Clara reached out to adjust Rebecca’s hair clip. “There’s nothing like a party to lift one’s spirits.”
Rebecca’s lips curled into a slight smile. “I suppose you’re right. I’ve always loved parties.”
“And you look beautiful. I’m quite certain you’ll capture the eye of at least one or two young gentlemen this evening.”
Rebecca shivered. “I think I’d prefer to be a simple wallflower than attract the attention of some interested suitor.”
“Plenty of young men regard marriage in a higher light than Jake did, you know.”
“Yes, but if a man is always going to add such complications to my life, I don’t know if I ever want to get married.”
“The right man is worth the extra complication.” Aunt Clara rested her hands against her hips and tilted her head. “Who is it?”
“Who is it?” Rebecca started at the question. Surely her unsolicited yet seemingly irrepressible interest in Luke hadn’t been obvious. “It’s no one. No one important, anyway.”
“Luke Hutton, by any chance?”
Rebecca felt her cheeks flush at the mention of Luke’s name. “How did you know?”
Aunt Clara rested her forefinger against her chin. “Let’s see. If I recall correctly, his name has been mentioned at least once over dinner most nights, and—”
“I was simply—simply sharing with you the events of my day.” Rebecca stumbled over her excuse. “He often dropped by to leave messages from his mother regarding the work I’m doing for her. Nothing more.” Nothing more intended on his part, that is.
“And that’s the other thing,” Aunt Clara began with a twinkle in her eye. “How many of your other clients require a personal carrier to deliver messages to you regarding their slipcovers and draperies?”
“None
, but—” Rebecca closed her mouth, feeling caught.
“I’ve known his family for years, and he’s a good man.” Aunt Clara reached out and squeezed Rebecca’s hands. “Take your time and get to know him. Maybe something will come of it. On the other hand, maybe he’ll never be more than a good friend. Just don’t let the past stop you from finding out.”
Rebecca stood and wrapped her arms around the older woman’s waist. If only forgetting the past could be easier. Still, she knew Aunt Clara was right. She’d never find out what could happen between her and Luke, or any other man, if she let Jake’s actions stop her from trusting her heart again. “I know why Michaela loves you so much. She told me how wise you are.”
“I’m just an old woman who’s thankful to have been blessed by love twice in a lifetime.”
Rebecca closed her eyes and wondered if she had any chance at all to find true love—just once.
Classical music played in the background as Rebecca sipped the tangy citrus-and tea-flavored punch from a crystal cup. A number of elegantly dressed guests mingled along the outskirts of the room, but for the moment Rebecca enjoyed studying her surroundings. Mrs. Hutton had chosen to hold the party in a large room that led to the outside terrace and well-manicured gardens below. Like the rest of the house, the room held a collection of fine furniture: rosewood tables with carved grape motifs and marble tabletops, chairs with balloon-shaped backs, and a sideboard with ivory inlay. A pair of gas chandeliers, with cut-glass prisms, reflected dancing shadows on the pale pink wallpaper and added to the festive ambiance of the evening.
Across the room Aunt Clara and Uncle Ben stood talking to Mrs. Hutton beside a table laden with corned beef, seafood, pies, and other tempting delights. The gracious hostess had greeted Rebecca warmly at the door, but she’d yet to catch a glimpse of Luke. She scanned the room and tried to convince herself it didn’t matter if she had the chance to speak to Luke tonight. Surely he’d be far too busy playing host for his mother to pay any attention to her. Regardless of the fact that their families had been longtime friends, she was, in reality, only someone his family had hired. But her heart felt different. She did want to see Luke tonight. Wanted him to seek her out and make her heart quiver the way it did when he was near.
Spotting a friend from church across the room, Rebecca edged past an arrangement of shelves filled with a number of pieces of glassware, framed daguerreotypes, and other unique curios, then stopped at the light touch of someone’s fingers against her elbow.
“You look lovely tonight, Rebecca.”
Turning slowly, she found herself facing the object of her daydreams. “Luke?”
“I’m sorry if I startled you—”
“No, it’s just that—” It’s just that I can’t seem to stop thinking about you, and now here you are.
Her heart fluttered out of rhythm. This time her nervousness left her uncharacteristically tongue-tied. Clean shaven and elegant in his matching charcoal-gray coat, vest, and trousers, he looked as if he’d come straight from the tailor rather than from a day’s work at the shipyard.
Luke cleared his throat. “Do you like the punch?”
Rebecca stared at her empty glass. “Yes. It’s quite refreshing.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement. “I believe the recipe comes from Mrs. Lincoln’s What to Do and What Not to Do in Cooking.“
“And I believe you’re teasing me.” She felt her cheeks flush, something that was becoming too frequent when in Luke’s presence.
“Far from it.” He stared back at her. “You have an unreserved passion about everything that goes on around you, from Mrs. Lincoln’s recipes to things of much weightier importance, like the quilts you’re making for the orphans. You know my mother’s eager to get involved with the project.”
If she’d been the delicate type of female, she was sure she would have swooned by now. Could it be that her instincts were correct and Luke Hutton was interested in her?
Another man, with bright red hair and dressed as elegantly as Luke, stepped up behind him and slapped him on the back. “Luke, why haven’t you introduced me to your beautiful companion?”
Luke flashed his friend a look of amusement. “Rebecca, this is Raymond Miller. He’s an old—and ornery, might I add—friend of the family.”
“Shameful, isn’t he? And a pity for you, Luke, that the Liberty leaves in a mere two weeks,” Raymond said with a wide grin. “I don’t suppose I could steal her away for the next dance now, could I?”
Before Rebecca could come up with an excuse to decline the invitation graciously, Luke grasped her forearm lightly with his fingers and drew her toward the dance floor. “Not a chance, sailor.”
The music stopped then, and Luke placed her empty cup on one of the tables. “Shall I have the honor of dancing the next waltz with you?”
“Of course.” She smiled at his protective manner.
Before she could take another breath, she was in his arms and floating across the room. For a man who worked with his hands and spent most of his time outdoors, he was an excellent dance partner. The intent way he looked down at her left her with no more doubts about his intentions. Clearly he wasn’t simply being polite.
Luke rested his gloved hand lightly against Rebecca’s waist and breathed in the sweet scent of her perfume. He’d promised himself one dance with her before telling her the truth about his upcoming voyage—before he was caught up even further by her charms. Unfortunately, he was fully aware he had already lost his heart to her.
While the small orchestra played the three-quarter tempo piece, Luke kept his gaze focused on Rebecca. At least a dozen other eligible young women were in the room, each dressed in their finest silks and many showing obvious interest in his status as a wealthy bachelor. But for now Rebecca had his full attention. Despite the fact that etiquette required that he mingle with the other guests throughout the evening and avoid dancing with the same partner, he planned to find a way to prolong their time together.
“Whose idea was this party?” Light from the chandeliers caught the flecks of gold in Rebecca’s eyes as she posed the question.
“Originally the idea was mine.” Luke drew her slightly closer. “My mother would never have arranged something like this for herself. I’d wanted to surprise her with a few friends over, but those friends, deciding it was a wonderful idea, took matters into their own hands. Before I knew it, half of Boston had been invited.”
Rebecca’s soft laugh chimed like one of his mother’s crystal pieces. “And the surprise part?”
Luke grinned. “Mother found out about it weeks ago. It’s impossible to keep a secret from her.”
“Why is it that mothers never seem to miss a single detail of what’s going on around them?”
The musical piece would come to an end soon, and he knew he had to talk to her. Ignoring the reality of the situation wouldn’t change anything. In fact, it would only make matters worse. He’d realized that when he’d introduced her to Raymond, who’d almost given the situation away when he brought up the Liberty. He was thankful he’d been able to distract her by asking her to dance. She’d never forgive him if she found out the truth from someone else. And he’d already waited far too long to tell her.
Still, his heart told him to pull her closer in his arms and beg her to wait for him until he returned. But he’d never do that to her. If only things were different and he wasn’t leaving. If only he wasn’t facing months of solitude at sea without the sweetness of her face to brighten his day.
“Rebecca, there’s something I need to talk to you about. I was wondering if we could stroll in the garden for a few minutes.”
Her eyes widened. With interest? He hoped so.
“You’re the host tonight. What if your guests need you?”
“I’m sure they can spare me for a few minutes.”
“All right, then.”
Rebecca took Luke’s arm and let him escort her across the floor. With scores of beautiful women filli
ng the room, she couldn’t help but feel a thrill that he wanted to spend time with her. And a walk in the garden meant he wanted to prolong their time together. Aunt Clara had been right in her advice. Rebecca couldn’t let what Jake had done stop her from finding love again. It was certainly too early to know if Luke was the one God had chosen for her, but it was time to take a chance and find out.
And if he wants to ask if he can call on me formally … Rebecca glided beside him toward the open terrace doors and smiled at the thought of getting to know him better.
An older woman, dressed in a fashionable navy and cream pin-striped silk, stood in the breezeway and greeted them with a pleasant smile. “Luke, darling, let me compliment you on the party. What a wonderful occasion this is for your mother.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Lewis. May I introduce you to Rebecca Johnson. Her grandparents have been longtime friends of my mother.”
“So you’re the young lady in the room who has managed to steal the attentions of our host.”
“Knowing Mr. Hutton the little that I do, I’m certain he will strive to make everyone feel at home tonight.” Rebecca laced her fingers together, unsure of how else to respond to the woman.
“Don’t worry, my sweet. Just be sure to enjoy his company before he leaves.”
“Excuse me?” Confused, Rebecca turned to Luke, whose face had paled whiter than a Boston winter.
“Luke,” Mrs. Lewis continued, “don’t tell me you haven’t yet informed this young woman that you set sail in a few days.”
Rebecca stood speechless at the announcement, and Luke didn’t seem to be faring any better if she was reading correctly the horror-struck expression on his face.
“We’re all proud of him. As one of the top officers of the Liberty, he’s destined to become the captain of his own vessel one day.”
Rebecca choked out an unladylike cough. Luke was leaving on a whaling voyage? Surely this woman was incorrect. Luke would have told her something as significant as the fact he was leaving on such an extended expedition. Wouldn’t he?
“I hadn’t yet …” Luke stuttered out his reply. “I was planning on telling her everything now … in the garden.”