Crown of Beauty

by Cecily K Wolfe

  “I have to go. Do you trust me?”

  Their faces were still close enough that she could feel his breath on her lips, and she wanted to press them to his, as forward as that would be. She didn’t even know his real name, but he was promising to tell her everything about him, and the two of them could be together afterwards. Couldn’t they?

  She nodded, and he kissed her again, quickly but firmly, then he was gone.

  Jeannette and Annie stared at Catherine, quiet as mice. Catherine clenched and unclenched her fists at her sides and took a deep breath.

  “I would appreciate it if we could keep this to ourselves.”

  Jeannette’s mouth fell open and Catherine wondered if this might have been the most exciting thing the girl had seen since coming to work for them earlier that year. She had arrived after Josie and Arthur became engaged, and while she had most certainly heard the particulars from the rest of the servants, she had only actually been exposed to Sarah and their mother’s tirades on occasion. Well, there was the problem of Sarah’s escapades, but she was hoping that Annie and Becky had kept that information to themselves. After all, Becky’s position might be in jeopardy if Catherine’s parents found out, both because she was supposed to be keeping an eye on Sarah and also because she hadn’t told them but rather Annie, who told Catherine.

  “What was it like, miss? He’s so handsome!”

  Annie slapped Jeannette’s arm and Catherine winced.

  “That’s not really necessary, Annie. I’m sure this has just been too much excitement for Jeannette. Please, Jeannette, I need to know that you won’t tell anyone about Will’s visit, or anything else. Annie, I hope I can count on you without even asking.”

  Annie bobbed her head, her hand still outstretched towards the younger girl so that when Jeannette didn’t answer she was close enough to pinch her hard. Jeannette squealed.

  “Stop it, Annie. Honestly. This wasn’t anything that needs telling. It was a private conversation, and he’s a respectable young man.”

  “One who likes kissing, it seems.”

  Sarah would not have had to be too quiet on her approach, not with the conversation and slapping that was going on, but Catherine was still surprised at her sister’s voice. If Sarah had been home a little while earlier, perhaps Jeannette would have gone to her with Will’s appearance, and that might have been disastrous. Sarah could have brought it up to her parents as they dined, as she had an affection for drama, or pursued Arthur to exclaim about Catherine’s male visitor. Catherine knew that Sarah craved attention, but had been worried lately that her sister might be willing to go too far in order to get it.

  No one spoke for a long moment, then just as Catherine decided to ask for Sarah’s discretion, Sarah shrugged and turned away.

  “None of my business. Just remember to stay out of mine when the time comes, Catherine.”

  Catherine wondered why she didn’t feel relieved at Sarah’s statement, but only more concerned. They had never had secrets before, not from each other, or from their parents, and now, they did, serious ones. It didn’t seem right, but Catherine wasn’t sure what she could do about it while keeping Will’s privacy protected. He would tell her soon, though, she was sure of it, and then they could tell her family, and she could speak to Sarah about her clandestine activities. Hopefully, it would all happen before Sarah could get into any trouble, but Catherine worried about taking such a chance. Sarah was smart, but she was also impulsive, and doing something without forethought might lead to all kinds of difficulties.

  Like kissing a man when she didn’t even know his real name, accepting his word that he would reveal his secrets soon.

  Catherine rubbed her eyes, knowing that Annie and Jeannette were watching her every move.

  “No one but the four of us knows about this, and we will never speak of it. Do you understand?”

  Jeannette was rubbing her arm where Annie had pinched her, and nodded without a word. Annie blinked, wordless as well, but her gaze was disapproving.

  Well, Catherine thought with a sigh, she’s just going to have to disapprove. Catherine was going to follow her heart, praying for guidance along the way, and if the maid who had spent the last few years attending to an obedient girl who never defied convention or her parents was scandalized, so be it.

  She left the room, and to her surprise, the maids followed without a sound.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Will awoke the day of the Van Alden party nauseated, although he hadn’t eaten anything out of the ordinary the evening before with his host family, and Catherine had not only allowed him to kiss her but kissed him back. He was still stunned over her response, at her hands holding his suit jacket so tight as she pulled him against her that he had to pry them off. She did care for him, just as he thought she did, and once he told her the truth down to the last detail, from his childhood, his mother’s death and then his father’s, and the way he had handled all of it, there would be no more secrets between them. As long as she still wanted to be with him, knowing what sort of person he was, in spite of how he had changed over the past couple of months.

  He had changed, hadn’t he?

  Washing and dressing carefully, as always, he considered approaching Arthur before he and his family came to the Van Alden estate that evening. Arthur knew that Will was lying about everything, even if he didn’t say it out loud, and Will wasn’t sure how Arthur knew, but there was no other way to explain Arthur’s sudden hostility towards him. Of course, there was Catherine, and Arthur didn’t want any man around his sister who was not worthy of her, but now that Arthur knew that Will was on the same social level as he and his sisters, Arthur practically hissed at him whenever they met. He still advised him, encouraged him, but only to a professional extent. Will’s hand slipped and opened a small cut on his face as he shaved. He had always employed a valet, but his time here had taught him to fend for himself, and the small, everyday elements of life, including trying to shave without butchering his face, were surprisingly satisfying. Would Catherine notice the mark, and would she be concerned? Would they be able to find some time to leave the party together, staying close but perhaps slipping into the library, where he would tell her what she needed to know to decide if she wanted to continue to spend time with him, with her parents’ approval, of course, or if his past was too terrible for her to accept? It might not be the past that was the problem, he admitted to himself, but rather the lies that had allowed him to use her brother’s good nature and wisdom to forge an escape from his responsibilities. Would she be able to trust him after his revelations?

  He almost stumbled over his own feet when Van Alden met him in the hall, the older man brimming over with excitement.

  “You have a visitor, and I think some very good news, my boy.”

  Van Alden patted him on the back and pushed him forward, as if Will needed direction. Will thought that maybe he did, especially since he was a little leery about whoever this visitor was, and what news he brought. Surprises were not his favorites, unless they involved a certain blonde, blue-eyed girl who crept into his dreams every night, and he had a sinking feeling that Catherine was not the visitor in question. He stopped suddenly, his thoughts focused on her and how she might respond once she knew everything, knowing that he would be distracted from whatever else would happen today that led up to his explanation. She was kind and generous, yes, he had seen how she interacted with those less fortunate, as well as her respect and fondness for her brother, and her patience, though tested, with her sister. Still, his hope that her heart would be open to forgiving his many faults and to trusting that he would never lie to her again wavered.

  “Are you unwell?”

  Van Alden’s concern was genuine and Will hated that the man still did not know the entire truth, either. So many lies, all from his selfish desire to escape responsibility and wallow in his despair.

  “No, sir. I am fine. Just wanted to take a breath and be sure I am presentable.”

  H
e forced a smile to his face, one that Van Alden accepted with one of his own as he clapped Will on the back paternally.

  “Oh, you are presentable indeed! He would be pleased to see you if you were wearing a potato sack, I’d wager.”

  He?

  Will had to consciously lift his feet to step forward rather than drag himself through the house. He had no desire to meet this stranger, or discover why he would be happy to see Will. The only people who would want to get their hands on him would be his father’s creditors, he considered, and he had no way of satisfying them. He had left those details for his uncle, who had done Will nor his father any wrong. What did his uncle think of Will’s disappearance, Will wondered, his guilt weighing him down physically.

  God help me, he thought. Please, help me.

  He followed Van Alden, repeating those three words silently in his head as he walked, resisting the urge to cover his face with his hands.

  “William!”

  As soon as the voice reached his ears, Will was enveloped in a tight hug that took him off guard. He couldn’t move for a few moments, but as he realized who was holding him so fast, he couldn’t help but reach his own arms around the man who had done his best to look after him over the past few months in spite of Will’s attempts to cause every difficulty possible in return.

  His uncle, the one for whom he had been named, was crying, his tears damp on Will’s shoulder and against his neck. He swallowed hard against the temptation to do the same, squeezing his eyes shut tightly to keep his emotions in check. It was several moments before his uncle released him, and Will did not fight the man’s embrace.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere, and when I met Davenport by chance only yesterday, he told me that you were here, and that you had only just regained your memory. I didn’t want to believe it, to think of you alone, without a home . . .”

  William Travers held Will at arms length, his hands on Will’s shoulders, and looked him over carefully as if he expected Will to be harmed in some way. His gaze stopped momentarily at the nick on Will’s face, and a smile bloomed over his own.

  “Ah, no one to tend to your personal needs, and this is what happens! I imagine you’ve had quite an education during your stay.”

  You have no idea, Will wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut. Uncle William liked to talk, and when he was enthusiastic, there was no stopping him. Will found that he had missed his uncle’s voice, and while they had their differences at times and his uncle had expressed his concern over him to an annoying extent in the recent past, he found the knot in his chest relax a bit as he watched the variety of expressions cross his uncle’s face. Uncle William wasn’t angry, or at least he wasn’t yet. He was under the impression that Will had lost his memory and only just realized who he was, a fabrication that everyone else believed as well, except for Arthur, who had no proof that Will was lying, but obviously held something against him. And Catherine, she had no idea that he knew who he was at all.

  Oh, no, Will smacked his hand against his forehead and turned away from his uncle, who grabbed at his suit jacket. The party was in just a few hours and now everyone would know. His uncle, the Van Aldens - if they hadn’t told anyone yet, they would when guests began to arrive, and by the time Catherine and her family showed up, he might not have a chance to talk to her alone and tell her not only the truth, but tell her before someone else told her the lie that he knew who he was. It didn’t even make sense in his own thoughts, and trying to wrestle out a way to tell her why everyone knew while he hadn’t told her, but to also tell her that she was the only one he was telling that he had never lost his memory in the first place . . . if there ever was a time to start drinking again, it was now, he thought.

  “What is it, boy? You must know how pleased I am to have found you, and I have good news. Not as good as you might wish, but it will help. Knowing that you’re safe and sound, though, that is the best news for me. We are all we have, now, you and I, and I want to help you move forward. We have time to discuss all this tomorrow, though, as I understand these kind people are celebrating your success here in Newport, working with Van Alden here. I always knew you had a head for construction and design, but your father just didn’t want to encourage it. I think he would be happy that you’ve found your place, though, and someone kind enough to offer you guidance.”

  Will wanted to pull his own hair out. Yes, it was wonderful that Uncle William was happy, and had some good news that Will couldn’t even think about at the moment. What did it matter, though, if Catherine wanted nothing to do with him after tonight?

  “If you want to stay here, I fully support your decision. It isn’t as if you’d be moving across the country or some such thing. There are some matters to settle, of course, but . . .”

  It was just too much to think about. Was it selfish to think only of Catherine right now, and the threat the truth presented to a future with her?

  “Why won’t you talk to me? You’ve ever been one to keep things to yourself, and it has never served you well. Sit, and tell me what is troubling you.”

  Mrs. Van Alden must have ordered tea at some point because a maid with a tray appeared, and Uncle William began to nibble at the tiny cakes she offered as if they were the most luscious delicacy. Will practically fell onto the sofa after his uncle sat, and leaned forward, his head in his hands.

  “I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to stay here, not when the cook whips up such delicious treats!”

  Uncle William meant well, clearly, but it didn’t bode well for serious conversation when he was distracted by cake. There was no way to explain without potentially causing problems with everyone in the Van Alden house at the moment, and no one needed those difficulties with the party ahead. Perhaps he could send a note around to Catherine, asking to speak to her alone tonight, before she interacted with anyone else. How could he ask that, though, and how could he prevent anyone else from talking to her when she arrived? Was it possible to wait for her at the door, lurking while the Van Aldens greeted everyone else, knowing that the party was, in part, in his honor?

  No. He knew better, and with the memory of Catherine’s kiss on his lips, their first and perhaps only kiss, he vaguely heard his uncle’s voice continue on, closing his eyes and praying silently for God to get him through the evening, no matter what happened, and for Catherine’s feelings to be spared. The very last thing he wanted in the world was to hurt her, but he knew in his heart, somehow, that it was bound to happen.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sarah danced about all morning, and it was all Catherine could do not to join her. It would be out of character, she knew, and she didn’t want to call any attention to herself, especially when Arthur was on the warpath. She knew that part of the problem was his concern for Josie, who was actually doing better, but his overprotective stance when it came to Will was at a fever pitch. She could understand back when Will first arrived and they knew so little about him, which was still the case, but he had proven himself worthy of her attention, hadn’t he, and even if she wasn’t sure who he truly was, Arthur of all people should support her interest in someone who wouldn’t prove his ancestry. She wasn’t marrying the footman, but even if she wanted to, how could he not stand by her side? They had just become close and now this sudden dislike he had for Will was coming between them. Well, she wasn’t going to let it put a damper on her evening. For once, she was looking forward to a party, even if it was to see Will. Perhaps they would have some time together alone and he could tell her whatever it was he so desperately wanted to share with her. To hold her in such confidence, especially when it was something that no one else knew, showed such trust, and she suspected that he wasn’t someone who trusted others easily.

  “Mother wants me to eat before we leave, so I don’t eat all the petit fours like I did at the Morton party in the spring, but honestly, I couldn’t help it. The little red ones with the thick frosting were absolutely divine. I don’t remember the Van Aldens having a party like th
is before. Do you? Do you know what kind of cake they had?”

  Usually Catherine would listen and let Sarah go on and on about such trivia, but after allowing her sister to speak of cakes and gowns and whether or not it would snow - “after all, it is almost December” as if Catherine didn’t know the date - she found a way to direct the focus on something more serious.

  “You must promise me to stay inside. Whether or not the petit fours are to your liking.”

  Sarah blinked at her, her eyes wide and wary.

  “Of course I will. I would hope that you wouldn’t take servants’ gossip for truth, as if you didn’t trust your own sister.”

  Catherine narrowed her eyes, certain that Sarah was trying to dodge the wording so she wasn’t quite making the promise Catherine was asking.

  “Promise me. You may think I am just trying to push you around because I’m older, but that isn’t the case. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Sarah turned away, her hands holding the fabric of her day dress so that it swayed with her movement. She sighed heavily.

  “I promise. Are you satisfied now?”

  She wasn’t looking at Catherine, but she had said the words and Catherine wasn’t sure that there was anything else she could extract from her sister to guarantee that Sarah wouldn’t sneak away from the Van Alden property. There was no sure way to predict that she would, either, so Catherine said a quick, silent prayer that whatever Sarah did that night, the Lord would watch over her.

  “Yes, I am. Thank you. Now, shall we talk about what Annie and Becky should do with our hair for the evening? What are the two of them up to right now, anyway?”

  Sarah spun back to face Catherine, smiling, and the talk turned to curls and rolls and the chatter of their maids, who appeared soon after with news worth telling. A gentleman had sent Miss Catherine a bundle of white roses, and Mr. Arthur and Mr. Davenport were arguing something fierce as Mrs. Davenport was trying to figure out who this boy was and why she didn’t know about him before. Catherine was suddenly the subject of all three of the other girls’ stares and had no idea what to say.