“And bring us your best bottle of brandy, too,” the Master told him.
The butler left, and the Master snapped his napkin open and laid it in his lap.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Polly told him. “I told you in my letter that I don’t drink spirits.”
“You did tell me that,” the Master replied. “Well, then, I’ll drink it all myself.”
“You will not!” Polly exclaimed. “I won’t let you.”
“How will you stop me?” the Master asked.
“If you drink it all,” Polly replied, “you would be so drunk you wouldn’t be able to walk home.”
“You’re right,” the Master admitted. “Well, then, I’ll drink part of it by myself.”
“I didn’t know you were such a libertine,” Polly remarked.
“Me, a libertine?” the Master asked. “No, I just enjoy a nice drink every now and then. I have to celebrate my own wedding tomorrow, even if no one else will celebrate it with me.”
“Won’t anyone in town celebrate it with you?” Polly asked
The Master cocked his head. “It’s strange. Word seems to have gotten around that tomorrow is a sorrowful day. I don’t understand it, but you’d think from talking to people around this town that they were going to the church tomorrow to celebrate a funeral instead of a wedding.”
Polly looked away.
The Master scrutinized her. “And you don’t seem all that happy about it, either.”
“I’m just tired,” Polly replied. “The journey must have tired me out more than I realized.”
From his hiding place behind the curtain, Matthew heard the heavy silence that followed. How well he knew that silence, when the Master peered into your heart and soul! He saw exactly what went on in a person’s innermost being. That silence hung over the dining room, waiting to fall on the heads of everyone in it.
“Has something happened?” the Master asked.
“What can have happened?” Polly asked. “I’ve been here all day.”
“You seem especially upset,” the Master replied.
“You already know what happened yesterday,” Polly told him.
“You seem more upset than you were yesterday,” the Master maintained. “If you were here all day, I would expect you to be at least somewhat recovered from your shock yesterday. But you aren’t.”
“I told you,” Polly replied. “I’m tired. You would be tired, too, if you traveled all that way.”
The Master didn’t respond to this comment. “And just now, when I mentioned celebrating our wedding, you evaded the subject.”
“I didn’t evade it,” Polly muttered.
The Master persisted. “I find this strange, because it’s the same reaction I have had from everyone else about our wedding. You would think I was going to the gallows instead of the church. I could understand it from men who’ve been married forty or fifty years but I wouldn’t expect it from you.”
“Maybe…,” Polly returned. “maybe they don’t feel like celebrating when someone has determined to kill us both at the altar. I don’t much care to celebrate it myself.”
“Do you mean,” the Master asked. “that you don’t care to celebrate Noah Bartlett’s hollow threat? Or that you don’t care to celebrate him killing us?”
Polly folded her hands in her lap. “You know, Mr. Buchanan, I really don’t appreciate you making a joke out of this situation.”
The Master sat back in his chair. “Oh, come on, Polly. I’m just trying to lighten up the conversation a little bit. You can’t blame me for that.”
“I just wish you’d take this situation a little more seriously,” Polly replied.
“I’m sorry I can’t take Noah’s Bartlett’s empty threats seriously,” the Master told her. “They’re too ridiculous to consider at all.”
“What makes you think his threats are hollow and empty?” Polly asked.
The Master shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve been in this town a few years now. He hasn’t done anything to me yet, and I don’t think he’ll have the guts to do it now.”
“And you’re willing to bet both our lives on that?” Polly asked.
“Noah Bartlett is a schoolyard bully, just like his son,” the Master replied. “He isn’t dangerous if you only stand up to him. He wants the chance to try something underhanded at the church tomorrow so I can de-fang him.”
“I think maybe you don’t understand just how malicious he can be,” Polly remarked.
The Master raised one eyebrow. “What makes you think you know more about him than I do? You saw him once at the train station. I’ve lived in the same town with him for more than two years now. I think I know something about him that you don’t. Unless there’s something you aren’t telling me.”
“I found out everything I needed to know about him yesterday,” Polly mumbled.
“You’ll just have to trust me about tomorrow,” the Master replied. “I promise you, it won’t be the disaster you think it will be.”
“I hate to see you in trouble,” Polly returned. “You seem like a good man. I think I would have liked being married to you.”
The Master studied her for a while. Then he said, “I won’t try to argue with you about it anymore, Polly. I only wish you would trust me on this.”
“I wish I could,” Polly whispered.
The butler came over to the table just then with their brandy, and they stopped talking. Not long after, the food came, and they ate almost the entire meal in silence.
Afterward, the Master saw Polly to the foot of the stairs. As she laid her foot on the lowest step, the Master took her by the hand. “Promise me you’ll come to the church tomorrow. Promise me you won’t back out of this before then.”
Polly refused to look him in the eye. “I don’t want to go if it means watching Noah gun you down at the altar.”
“I don’t think that will happen,” the Master replied.
“You think what you want to think,” Polly told him. “You don’t recognize the danger you’re in.”
“Maybe not,” the Master admitted. “Just promise me you’ll come.”
“I didn’t come all this way to back out now,” Polly replied.
“Just promise me,” the Master repeated. “Promise me you won’t run away.”
“I won’t run away,” Polly replied. “I’ll be there, even if it means attending my own funeral.”
The Master kissed her hand. “Thank you. Rest well. After tomorrow, no one will separate us again.”
Polly ascended the stairs without saying good night.
Chapter 10
The Master turned away from the staircase. But instead of going out through the front door of the hotel, he went back into the dining room. He strolled over to the table he and Polly just left and drained the rest of the brandy out of his glass. Then he turned around and pulled back the curtain.
“You can come out now,” he told Matthew.
Matthew kept still, skewered like an insect to a cork tray.
“It’s all right,” the Master told him. “Come out. I want to talk to you.”
Matthew stepped out from behind the curtain. He still couldn’t face the Master with his head up.
The Master observed his shameful behavior. “You don’t have to worry. I know you came here to watch us, and it’s all right. It shows that you’re concerned about us, and I appreciate that.”
“I’m sorry,” Matthew mumbled.
“Never mind about that,” the Master replied. “Now tell me what happened. Tell me what happened to Polly today.”
Matthew studied the toe of his shoe. “Nothing happened to her. She’s been here all day.”
“Don’t waste your breath on that,” the Master snapped. “Something happened. It’s written all over her face, and she’s lost all hope for tomorrow. What was it? I told you to follow her, so you must have seen it.”
“She went out for a walk,” Matthew muttered.
“Where did she go?” the Master
asked.
“Just around town,” Matthew replied. “She went to the haberdasher’s, and to the general store, and to the dressmaker’s shop.”
“Okay,” the Master prompted. “Then what happened? Did she meet Bartlett somewhere?”
The weight of guilt and responsibility fell from Matthew’s shoulders. The Master had trapped him, and he dropped all pretense of keeping Polly’s secret. He nodded.
“Where?” the Master demanded.
“In the church yard,” Matthew told him.
“What was she doing there?” the Master asked.
“I don’t know,” Matthew replied. “Maybe she was on her way to the church and he grabbed her and dragged her into the church yard. I think she must have just been walking by on the street.”
“So what happened?” the Master asked. “What did he do?”
“He grabbed her,” Matthew told him. “When I got there, he was holding her around the waist and shouting into her face. She was trying to get away from him, but he only held her tighter and laughed at her.”
The Master gritted his teeth. “What did he say to her?”
“Mostly the same things he said to her at the train station yesterday,” Matthew replied. “He threatened to kill her, and said that she better not tell you he’d been with her. That sort of thing. Then he said he would come to the church tomorrow and get you and her.”
“He said all that yesterday,” the Master snapped. “There must be more. She looks like she’s seen a ghost.”
“When she wouldn’t give in,” Matthew told him, “Bartlett pulled a gun on her. He was going to shoot her.”
“So what happened?” the Master asked.
“I…showed myself to him.” Matthew started babbling. “I didn’t know what else to do. I know you told me to come and get you, but he was going to shoot her on the spot. She would be dead by the time I got you. There was nothing I could do. I just stepped out where he could see me and I watched him. That’s all I did.”
The Master stared at the young boy in front of him. Matthew squirmed under his gaze and screwed his toe into the floor. Then, to his great surprise, the Master laid his hand on his shoulder.
Matthew’s eyes flew up to the Master’s face and he found the Master smiling at him.
“You’re a remarkable man, Matthew Burke,” the Master declared. “I’m proud of you. You’ve done a great thing today, perhaps the greatest thing a man can do in his life. You’ve won my undying admiration and respect. Whatever else you become in your life, I will never forget this moment. I look forward to knowing you and calling you a friend for the rest of my life.”
Matthew couldn’t believe his ears. “I’m sorry I didn’t do what you told me to do. I only wanted to protect Polly.”
The Master patted his shoulder. “You did exactly what I told you to do. You protected Polly better than I could have done myself. You protected her better than anyone else could have. Now come on. Let’s get out of here.”
The Master steered Matthew out of the hotel by his shoulder. They walked side by side until they reached the lane where they would separate to go to their own homes. The Master stopped and faced Matthew.
“Go on home now,” he told the boy. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the church.”
Matthew glanced down the lane toward his house, then back at the Master. “Are you sure it’s a good idea for you to go to the church tomorrow? Are you sure it wouldn’t be better to get away from Noah Bartlett?”
“Don’t worry about tomorrow,” the Master replied.
“I can’t help it,” Matthew told him. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
The Master chuckled to himself. “I appreciate your concern. Go home and try not to worry too much.” He chuckled again. “I’m counting on seeing you at the church. Tell me you’re going to be there.”
“I’ll be there,” Matthew replied.
“Good,” the Master exclaimed. “I wouldn’t want to get married without you there.”
Matthew stared at him. “Really?”
“Really,” the Master replied. “After everything you’ve done to help us get married, I wouldn’t want you to miss it. If anyone’s going to be there, you should be.”
“Really?” Matthew gaped.
“Yes, really.” The Master flipped his coat as he turned away. “Now go home.”
Chapter 11
Matthew woke up sick to his stomach the next morning. In spite of the Master’s assurances, he lay awake most of the night fretting about what would happen at the church. He believed Noah Bartlett’s threats over the Master’s confidence.
The Master complained that everyone in town thought he was going to his own funeral. Now Matthew believed it, too. The last thing in the world he wanted to see was Noah Bartlett killing the Master and Polly on their wedding day.
But the only way to avoid it was to stay away from the church. After all his machinations to get himself taken there, after years of struggle to keep his Sunday mornings free, he couldn’t back out now. He had to go.
Some morbid fascination compelled him to see the conclusion of this adventure in which he’d entangled himself. Maybe he’d get lucky and Bartlett would gun him down, too, along with the Master and Polly. Then he could put the whole sordid affair to rest and stop thinking about it.
His brain just wouldn’t leave it alone. He wracked his mind trying to think of a way to divert the tide of destiny. But what could a young boy do? If he tried to intervene, Bartlett would split his sides with laughter. Bartlett would crush him like a bug under his heel if he so much as raised his head in defiance.
Matthew tarried over his breakfast until his mother hounded him from the table and threatened violence of her own if he didn’t get dressed and get ready to go. All his family dressed in the Sunday best, and Matthew’s mother took along a special bouquet of flowers she’d made especially for the occasion. The village saw so few weddings that everyone wanted to make it a celebration to remember.
Matthew watched his parents prepare for church. They didn’t seem affected by the anticipation of a confrontation with Noah Bartlett. Like Matthew, they’d made scrupulous efforts to stay out of his way. They admonished Matthew day in and day out about minding his own business and leaving the confrontations to someone else.
And he’d happily complied—until now. Why, oh why, hadn’t he kept out of all this? Why did he cross first Felix, and then Noah? Now they would never rest until they paid him back.
At last, he got his Sunday clothes on and his mother tied his tie for him. She chided him on his reluctance to go to church when his hero was getting married. Matthew didn’t respond. He only waited at the garden gate for the family to come out of the house. Then they all walked to the church together.
On the way, they met other families, all headed to the church, too. They chatted and the little children ran up and down the street. No one mentioned the impending conflict. But Matthew detected a subtle undercurrent of hesitation, especially among the women. In spite of the joyful atmosphere, they weren’t quite as exuberant as he thought they ought to be.
More people gathered outside the church, and the crush of bodies filing through the door kept Matthew outside longer than he intended. He didn’t see the Master anywhere. He found Alan and Timothy in the crowd, and he joined them in hanging back to the rear of the crowd.
“Have you seen the lady?” Alan asked Matthew.
“What? Here?” Matthew asked. “No. Have you?”
“No,” Alan replied. “I guess she’s hiding in the vestry.”
“What about the Master?” Timothy asked. “Have you seen him?”
“No.” Matthew looked away toward the mass of bodies at the church door.
“Have you heard any more about…?” Alan stopped.
“No.” Matthew compressed his lips to stop himself from saying any more.
“But Felix said,” Timothy told them. “he said his father is coming today to stop the wedding. I heard the same thin
g from Andy Metzger, the barber. And you know what he’s like. He’s a regular clearing house for news. If he said it, the word must be out all over town. Noah Bartlett is coming here today to stop this wedding.”
“I heard the same thing,” Alan agreed. “and not just from Felix. You must have heard it, too, Matthew. Don’t say you haven’t.”
“I heard it from Felix,” Matthew shot back. “but you can’t take his word on anything. I’m here to see the Master get married, and that’s what’s going to happen.”
But he didn’t feel it in his heart. With every step he took closer to the door of the church, his heart sank further and his gut ached from nervous tension. He wished he could go home and go to bed and wake up tomorrow morning and hear all about it from his friends. Why did he have to be here? Why did he have to see the Master gunned down in cold blood by a worthless lout like Noah Bartlett?
Once the Master was gone, Felix would be insufferable again, just like he was before the Master came to town. The light would go out in Matthew’s life, and there would be no more reason for him to go to school He would go to work in his father’s wagon shop. Very likely he would never read a book for the rest of his life. What was the point?
In the end, he couldn’t make any more excuses for staying outside the church, and the three boys went in. Alan and Timothy left to sit with their families. Matthew lingered behind the pews, trying to decide what to do.
Up at the front of the church, the Master towered over the congregation seated in the pews. He stood straight and true in his immaculately pressed black coat with a black ribbon tied in a bow in the collar of his shirt. Matthew had never seen him looking so magnificent. The buttons of his coat ran up his chest in a firm, straight line.
The minister mounted to the podium and began the service. The Master remained standing through it all. Matthew saw his mother turn around in her seat, looking for him over the sea of heads.
Just then, a rustling noise made him turn around, and there was Polly.
She wore a conical white gown with white ribbon bows around the hem and lacy overskirts. A thin gauze veil covered her head and face. Matthew couldn’t make out her face underneath it but after staring at her, he decided she looked sad.
Mail Order Bride: The Master: A Historical Mail Order Bride Story (Mail Order Brides) Page 4