by Angela Lain
“Gotta go.” Flynn shot off the bed and out of the door, closing it behind him.
Faith slid off the bed and moved to view her wardrobe, she had to change and go downstairs, so it had to be a dress. Since her step mother had arrived the number of dresses she owned had increased dramatically. Instead of the lightweight, pretty but practical dresses she had previously favored, she now had numerous ridiculous gowns, suitable only for parties. These were gowns for high society visits, for balls and soirees, they were totally unsuitable to wear on the ranch. To step outside the house in one was asking to get it dirty, and possibly torn too. Much as Faith disliked the garments, she would never deliberately destroy them. She liked a pretty dress as much as the next girl, but these were ostentatiously over-the-top ridiculous for her situation.
What to put on? Resentment tempted her to don her oldest, least fancy, dress. But that would lead to more arguments, and it would also be exactly what her step-mother was expecting. Maybe she should be contrary and wear something fancy? She laid a hand on one particularly fussy gown, it sported bows, lace and ribbons. She had never worn it, maybe this was the time?
It required a corset, which she had, of course, not used while she rode. She laced and fastened the offending garment, in truth it wasn’t so bad in the winter months when the weather was cooler. She donned the dress and regarded her reflection in the mirror. She looked… like someone she didn’t know. Had there been less bows it would have looked nice, but it was still totally unsuitable for a girl in her situation.
Her hair still hung around her shoulders, she moved to the dressing table and brushed through the length, before twisting it into a simple chignon. She could have called her step-mother’s maid to style it elaborately, but the woman always yanked and pulled and stuck the pins in too hard.
Faith was pretty certain the maid, Ginette, hated working here. She had come to Broken Ridge from Philadelphia with the then Mrs. Moffett. She always seemed irritated, resentful and put on, she complained constantly about the lack of help, and about the heat of the summer. At her instigation service bells had been installed in the house, they were supposed to ring when anything was needed, not visit the kitchens. Faith continued to do as she had always done. The cook, Mrs. Vernon, was an old friend.
She finished her preparations for facing her step-mother. Somehow she had to make the woman see that this just was not right.
CHAPTER THREE
F aith descended the stairs with great care, she was not practiced at dealing with the frills and petticoats and the chance of tripping was ever present. When she entered what her step-mother referred to as the drawing room, Claudia Duncan’s reaction was predictable.
“You look like a lady, for once. I don’t know why you cannot make the effort every day. Your hair is a little plain, you should have asked Ginette to style it for you, then you would look far more sophisticated.”
To what end? Faith wondered. There was no-one to see but family, she was not leaving the house and no-one was likely to call. She held her tongue, making such remarks always led to censure. She did venture to ask about refreshment.
“Will you be taking tea?”
“Certainly not for a while yet.” Her step-mother eyed her shrewdly. “Of course, you had no breakfast. So be it, maybe that will teach you not to be rude.”
Faith ground her teeth in frustration. She was not a child, she should not be treated in this way, but she had to live here, so she had little choice. She seated herself by the window, and her stomach growled softly. She looked out onto the barn and the distant range, and wished she could be out there with the hands, riding her pony, being useful. Instead all she could do was sit here and read, or embroider, there wasn’t much else to do.
“Now,” her step-mother began, “I hope you have calmed down properly. I realize this is a surprise to you, but you also have to realize that it is time for you to take the next step in your life.”
Faith continued to stare mutinously from the window. She knew she should be making reasoned arguments, but her step-mother made her so angry she found it impossible to be reasonable. Her best defense against this woman had always been to stay silent, and that would help nothing, not at the moment. She didn’t know what to do, or to say.
“Are you listening to me?”
Did she have any choice? “Yes, step-mother.”
Claudia gave an annoyed huff, which Faith reflected was unladylike and would have earned a rebuke had she been the one doing it.
“I do wish you would call me mother.”
“You are not my mother,” Faith returned woodenly.
“Then I wish you to call me Claudia, I have had enough of ‘step-mother’, it makes me sound… unpleasant.”
And not without reason, Faith reflected. Of course, to utter such a comment would be asking for trouble.
“All right, Claudia.”
“Good, now we have a wedding to discuss.”
What else could possibly have been up for discussion this morning?
“I think it would be better if I met him first,” Faith ventured.
“Nonsense. This will be a big affair in this small town, we need to get organized so everything is just right. I will not have people talking behind their hands, saying things were skimped and below standard.”
“You don’t think they might talk about the unsuitability of the couple?” Faith couldn’t suppress the tart reply.
“It is none of their business whom you choose as your husband.”
“But I don’t choose him! What if I hate him? What if he hates me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We need to settle the dates. I think we will settle on Christmas Eve for the wedding, the day after our Christmas party here. We can use the party as a big pre-wedding celebration; after all, we have invited everyone who is anyone from the surrounding area.”
“Christmas Eve?” Faith exclaimed in horror. “It is barely two weeks till Christmas. The pastor will never agree to that, he is far too busy…”
“Fiddlesticks, he is not! The church relies on donations, if your father promises a big enough donation, the pastor will be happy to help.”
Faith swallowed hard, acknowledging silently that it was probably true. “But it gives me so little time to prepare, no time to meet Mr. Shelton, no time to…”
“Plenty of time. He is from a good family.”
A fact which meant nothing, he may still be a cad and a bounder.
“But we know nothing about the Sheltons. They have been in town for only a few months, I know you have socialized but…”
“But nothing. I have known Joseph Shelton for many years.”
“You are from Philadelphia, he is from San Francisco, how is that possible?”
“Mr. Joseph Shelton is my cousin, he is the son of my uncle’s second wife. I knew him when he too lived in Philadelphia, when we were much younger.”
Faith absorbed this information in a stunned silence. What was there to say?
Plenty, but she wasn’t sure what should come first!
“Now that is settled we need to go to town to begin organizing everything,” her step-mother continued. “We must order your dress, you need to look stunning. I will speak with Cook about an early lunch, and tonight’s supper. You may go to your room.” She looked Faith over critically. “That dress will be fine for our trip to town. Go tidy your hair.”
She swept from the room, leaving Faith sitting, dumbfounded, by the window. Automatically she picked up her book and headed back to her room.
The news that her step-mother, no Claudia, was related to the Sheltons, if only by marriage, had come as a complete surprise. What she had seen of the couple led her to believe they were well-off and rather superior. Was Claudia doing this to please her cousin? Was he looking for a wife for his son because the younger man was in some way lacking? Or undesirable? Or a loose cannon? Or even a criminal?
Was she a sacrificial lamb?
Why did he not wish to marry a girl from San
Francisco? Was he also a mere pawn?
She took down her hair, braided it and wound it up again into a more secure knot. It still wasn’t fancy, but she didn’t want Ginette yanking at it. All the woman did was moan about the abundant tawny mane, as if Faith could actually change the way it grew.
She found her warm wrap, and the least hideous of her bonnets; a wide brimmed cowboy hat was more her desire but that would raise squawks of retribution.
As she collected her belongings she thought of her talk with Flynn this morning. It was true she had always been a fighter, and she could understand his surprise at her lack of fight when it came to Claudia. It was different for him, this ranch was his inheritance, even if he chose to ride away and work elsewhere just to avoid Claudia, ultimately he could still return when the time came. What choices did she have? Out here a woman’s job was to keep house and raise a family, there were no other jobs to be had, not respectable jobs.
She pondered the idea. It wasn’t completely true. She could teach school, or become a housekeeper or a maid, but she had no experience, and above all, she had no money to enable her to flee. Girls who had nothing would be taken advantage of, or so she had heard.
She had to try to speak with her father, maybe she could make him see how inappropriate this was. In truth she didn’t hold out much hope, her father had grown increasingly irritated with her as she had matured, he seemed to have no clue how to talk with her. She found it upsetting, because all she wanted was conversation with her papa, the way she had as a child. However, as soon as the new Mrs. Duncan arrived, her father had absolved himself of all concerns involving his daughter. That was territory for a female, and that was the end of it.
***
The ride to town was pretty much silent. Obviously Claudia had said all she needed to say this morning. Only as they drove into the town did she begin yet another lecture.
“We will see the seamstress first. I have already told Mr. Wright to take us straight there. You may indicate a preference, but I will decide what you will wear, I have far more experience, and a much better fashion eye than you.”
Faith opened her mouth to argue, and closed it again. The second part of that statement was undoubtedly true.
The small carriage pulled up outside the seamstress’s premises and they descended into the chilly roadway. Mrs. Cooper, the seamstress, had seen them arrive, and was immediately at the door to admit them.
“Come in, come in. Please, Mrs. Duncan, take a seat by the fire. I will get Peggy to fetch a hot drink while we discuss what you need. I expect you would like dresses for your Christmas Party?”
“I think we are well enough set up for the party, however we do have a very specific request, we need a wedding dress.”
“A wedding dress,” Mrs. Cooper turned her gaze to Faith, “You are getting married, Miss Duncan?”
Faith had no opportunity to reply, Claudia took over the conversation.
“Certainly she is; we hope it will take place on Christmas Eve. I’m sure the pastor will be happy to take the service.”
“Who is the lucky gentleman?”
“Mr. Edward Shelton, son of Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Shelton, our new town lawyer.”
“Oh, I don’t believe I have ever met the gentleman.”
“He is arriving from San Francisco in the next day or so,” Claudia returned grandly. “Now, we need to get this dress designed and finished as soon as possible, I trust you have some suitable materials? We require heavy silk and muslin, with lace decoration and knot work.”
“What color?” Mrs. Cooper sounded a little breathless.
“Ivory or cream would be ideal, a little pink might be pleasant.”
Faith listened in despair. Ivory! Cream! Colors she’d never considered wearing. She was more at home in blues and greens, darker colors if possible. Claudia obviously wished to advertise their wealth by demanding a dress which would have little further use beyond the wedding.
Mrs. Cooper called her assistant to help with measurements, and talked as she measured.
“Ahh, my dear, it will be so nice to see you married.” She jotted some figures. “It will be lovely to make a wedding dress for someone with such a beautiful, statuesque figure, you will look elegant. It is so much easier to make a dress when one is not struggling to hide imperfections.”
Faith caught her step-mother’s sour look. Her words were no less peevish. “Get on with it please, we have other visits to make and the days are very short.”
Elegant, that was something Claudia could not take from her; she resented that Faith was six inches taller than her diminutive five foot one, and generally called her ‘lanky’ and ‘ill-proportioned’.
***
In the end Faith’s opportunity to state a preference came down to choosing between things Claudia had short listed. The result was an ivory dress with pink rose knots and lace trimmings, far from what she would have selected given a real choice. Faith regarded the sketches with trepidation, she couldn’t see herself wearing such a confection. She would hate it on principle.
They descended the steps and the carriage took them to the Shelton’s property, set on one of the now-growing residential streets. Mr. Shelton’s business premises were very visible on the main street, but the better-off businessmen no longer lived over their places of work.
The house oozed money in a flashy style. A Christmas wreath already adorned the front door. Faith had assumed men of the law to be conservative in their outlook and manner, but the Sheltons appeared to make it obvious they were rich.
She was marrying into a rich family. Should this make her feel grateful? She supposed many girls might think so, certainly her step-mother was giving every indication that Faith should be thanking her, not rebelling. She looked up at the house and felt sick. She didn’t want to meet her future family, she wanted to run.
“Come on, girl. They are expecting us. We will have tea before we return to the CD.”
“But I thought you had things to do? Like see Pastor Jennings?”
“We can come back tomorrow to speak with him. Hurry yourself, we mustn’t keep the Sheltons waiting.”
Why not? Faith thought resentfully. The only person she wanted to meet less than Mr. and Mrs. Shelton, was Edward.
The next hour was excruciating for Faith. She was questioned on everything, about the ranch, her family and her history, as well as her manners and her morals.
When they climbed back into the carriage for their drive home, Claudia sat back with a satisfied sigh.
“Ahh, this is going to work out so nicely.”
“For you maybe,” Faith muttered. Claudia caught the words.
“Don’t be ridiculous, girl. This is a fine match. Property here in town, and a business and property in San Francisco. Your betrothed is set for life. You will be able to go and live in the city, away from this god-forsaken land. Think of it; shops, theatres, beautiful parks. I hear San Francisco is a very advanced and beautiful city. You should be grateful for the time and effort I am putting into this wedding.”
Faith stared out of the window at the increasingly wintery landscape. It dawned on her that she had been focusing on just the one thing, marrying a man she didn’t know. She had given no thought at all to where they would live. She had assumed they would stay in Broken Ridge, but it seemed her step-mother believed her husband might wish to live in San Francisco. The idea horrified her.
She didn’t want to leave the ranch! She was a cowgirl at heart, always would be; she would die, trapped in the city.
Melodramatic maybe, but could one die of a broken heart?
She had survived last time; maybe that had merely been a bruise, not a real break? At the time she had wanted to die. She had cried for weeks over a fickle man who had kissed her and ridden away, she’d had no female to confide in, and it had made things worse. In the end Jim, good old Jim, the cowhand who had known her from a child, had talked to her, had pointed out that no promises had been made, that in time she would
find a man who loved her. Her heart had healed, slowly.
What would Jim think of this state of affairs?
She didn’t dare to ask, his opinion may see him losing his job, and he could not afford to do that, not at his age.
“Since Mr. Edward is due to arrive in a day or two, we will return on the morrow to speak with the pastor, and I must check that all the supplies are arriving for the Christmas party the day before the wedding. It will be like having the wedding breakfast before the wedding,” Claudia laughed. “Let us hope Mr. Edward doesn’t wish to consummate the wedding the day before, too.”
Faith stared in horror at her step-mother’s coarse comment. Yet another thing she’d not considered. Sharing her bed with a stranger! Doing that with a man she’d never met! It was all piling on her so fast. Her wedding night; she wasn’t ready for that, not with a man she didn’t know, and was pretty certain she wouldn’t like. Maybe she was being unfair to Edward Shelton, but nothing about this affair was giving her any good feelings.
“Where are we going to live? I mean immediately after the wedding? Where will we spend our wedding night?” As if that really matter! But it was all she could discuss with Claudia, she certainly wasn’t asking any other questions, and she fervently hoped the woman wouldn’t wish to give her a pre-wedding talk. She had a fair idea what to expect, it couldn’t be far removed from what the cows did, could it?
“Oh, I think we could run to a couple of nights in the hotel, for privacy,” Claudia returned rather coyly.
Privacy? In the center of town? It sounded worse than staying at home, or going to his parent’s house. In fact the whole idea was now making her feel sick. She stared from the window and willed the homeward journey to end.
CHAPTER FOUR
F aith spent a miserable night going over and over the situation in her mind. She had tried to speak with her father, but had not been able to separate him from her step-mother in order to do so. She had abandoned the idea and left the room. She had paused outside the door in time to hear her step-mother’s words.