by Keli Gwyn
“It’s a beautiful song.” Henry swept a hand over the keyboard. “Could you play it for us?”
“Certainly. If you’ll let me have the bench...”
He scooted to the left. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to watch and see if I can pick it up.”
“All right.” She cast him a quizzical glance but took her place and began playing and singing. Alex and Marcie sang along.
Lavinia had been having trouble concentrating earlier. Now Henry fought to remain focused. She was so near that he got a good whiff of the delicate rose scent she favored. He’d asked Gladys about it. The housekeeper had said it was Otto of Roses, the most expensive perfume available, made from the blossoms of rose trees near the Sea of Galilee. She’d confided with obvious pride that, thanks to Lavinia’s generosity, she’d been granted permission to dab it on herself a few times.
Henry dragged his gaze from Lavinia’s lovely face and forced himself to watch her hands move over the keys, her slender fingers graceful and sure, like the woman herself. He managed to keep his attention on the notes she was playing...until she glanced at him. The movement of her petal-pink lips as she sang made all thoughts of music slip from his mind. All he could think about was that moment under the mistletoe when the children had urged him to kiss her.
Dot sidled up next to him and whispered. “I can’t sing, Uncle Henry. I don’t know all them words.”
He leaned close and spoke in her ear. “I don’t either. We can hum instead.”
Satisfied with his response, Dot did just that. He hummed along with her while forcing himself to keep his gaze on Lavinia’s hands and not on her mouth.
She completed the second verse and started the third. He played along with her, note for note, matching her tempo. When she began the fourth verse, he added a few embellishments, mindful of her role as primo, supporting and showcasing her in his as secondo.
They finished, their final notes fading simultaneously, leaving him feeling more festive, more free than he had since receiving the news about the tragic loss of Jack and Pauline.
Lavinia’s idea of wholeheartedly embracing the joys of the season was a good one, even if the way she’d chosen to go about doing so wasn’t in line with what Henry envisioned. If he was patient, he could help her see how much fun informal family activities such as this could be. She’d certainly immersed herself in this one.
She leaned toward the children, her tone bright. “What shall we do next?”
“‘Angels From the Realms of Glory,’” Marcie stated firmly. “I like it best since I get to be an angel in the church play.” She flipped a hand at her dark curls.
“Very well.” Lavinia faced Henry. “Since you know this one, would you like to play it on your own?”
“We can play together. Which position would you like to take?”
She graced him with a shy, almost apologetic smile. “Since you’re the stronger player, why don’t you stay there?”
Smiles and compliments? This was a worthwhile activity, indeed.
The next hour, filled with music, song, laughter and even more smiles, came to an end far too soon. He could spend several more seated next to Lavinia, enjoying the occasional brush of her arm against his and the unexpected sense of camaraderie.
Gladys entered the room. “I’m sorry the concert’s over. I enjoyed listening to those beautiful tunes while putting the kitchen to rights, but—” she rested a hand on Dot’s back “—it’s time for a young lady to go to bed. Give your aunt and uncle a hug, and I’ll take you up.”
Dot climbed onto the piano bench, wedged herself between Lavinia and Henry, wrapped an arm around each of their necks and planted noisy kisses on their cheeks. “I’m glad we singed together. Now I know all the words to ‘Angels From the Realms of Glory.’ I’m so happy.”
So was Henry. He wouldn’t have to endure her endless repetition of the first line.
Gladys beckoned with a crooked finger. “Come, our little singer. Your pillow is calling.”
Dot trooped after the housekeeper, she and Gladys both singing the carol together on the way upstairs.
Lavinia stared at the open door, slack-jawed. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard Gladys sing. I don’t know what’s gotten into her, but she’s downright cheery these days. Interesting.”
Marcie produced a smug smile. “I know why. She’s in love.”
Lavinia leaned back, startled. “What do you know about such things?”
“I know what love looks like. I saw how Mama and Papa looked at each other. It’s the same way Uncle Henry was looking at you while you were playing the piano.” She mimicked an adoring gaze.
Henry inhaled sharply and coughed. Repeatedly. Marcie was full of surprises, but she’d never said anything so shocking—or so ludicrous.
Lavinia cast a glance at him, concern creasing her brow. “Are you all right?”
He held up a hand and nodded to indicate he would be—provided the subject of his supposed attraction to her was dropped quickly. He might have looked at her, might even have admired her a time or two, but he most certainly had not gaped at her as though love-struck. She was attractive, talented and resourceful, but he didn’t have feelings for her. He couldn’t. Lavinia Crowne was, well, a Crowne, and he was a Hawthorn. Their values were as far apart as Christmas and the Fourth of July.
She turned to their niece. “Your mother and father loved each other very much, but I’m afraid you’re mistaken about your uncle. We were having fun together, but he and I are just friends. And as for Gladys, maybe she’s just happy about Christmas.”
“We did have fun, didn’t we, Aunt Livy?” Marcie smiled. “Christmas is going to be good, isn’t it?”
“I’m doing all I can to see that it is.”
“Does that mean we’re going to get presents?”
Alex scowled at his sister. “Marcie, it’s not polite to ask about that.”
Lavinia laughed, an airy sound free of reproach. “It’s all right, Alex. Since things are different this year, her question makes sense.” She took Marcie’s hands in hers. “Of course you’ll have presents. I’ll see to that.”
“I want a pair of pretty red boots like you have.” Marcie pulled her hands free and pointed at the toes of the boots peeking out from under Lavinia’s skirt. “Red’s my favorite color.”
“I’ll be sure to remember that. Now, how about you and Alex head upstairs and get your nightclothes on? I’ll be there shortly to tuck you in.”
The children trooped up the stairs. Henry jumped to his feet. He must put distance between himself and Lavinia now that they were alone. No telling what she was thinking after Marcie’s startling declaration.
Lavinia covered the keys with the fallboard and ran a hand over it. “I can’t recall a time I had as much fun playing as I did tonight. We’ll have to do it again.”
“That’s a great idea. We could teach the children enough songs so we could go caroling. I’m sure they’d enjoy a simple activity like that. Would you?”
She spun around, and he forced himself to look casual, as though that awkward question of Marcie’s hadn’t happened. She studied him for the longest time before speaking, which suggested she was thinking about it, too. He fought the urge to fidget.
“I know what you’re trying to do.”
Did she? He silently urged her to continue.
“You want me to see what a wonderful job Jack and Pauline did raising the children despite their limited means. Well, I have. But I could do even more good if given the opportunity.”
She wholeheartedly believed she could. That much he knew, but what she couldn’t see was that her idea of good wasn’t what was best for the children. Their past, present and future were in Sutter Creek. With him. “You could offer them things they can’t get here, but how do you know they wan
t them?”
“They do. Look.” She lifted her hem just enough for him to see her cherry-red boots and stamped her foot to draw attention to it. “Marcie wants boots like these.” She released her skirts, and they swished around her ankles. “She could have them, along with clothes made by the finest dress designers on the eastern seaboard. Think of how much it would mean to her to wear such lovely creations.”
If Lavinia thought she was going to win him over with an argument like that, she was misguided. Marcie had been content with her black boots until Lavinia had come along, boasting an abundance of footwear. Having boots to match each outfit might be important to her, but in his world that was a luxury. He’d ensure that the children had the clothes and shoes they needed just as Jack and Pauline had. He wouldn’t allow anyone, not even their well-meaning aunt, to cause the children to question the decisions their parents had made or see themselves as lacking.
Pauline had walked away from her lavish lifestyle, and she hadn’t regretted her decision. She once said that what she’d gained by marrying the man she loved more than made up for what she’d lost. Her only regret, she’d confided in him one day soon after he’d arrived in California, was having left Lavinia behind. If Pauline could have figured out a way to take her younger sister with her, she would have. She’d told Henry that she’d suggested the idea to Lavinia, who’d stared at Pauline like she was addlepated before flatly refusing to leave their father. If only Lavinia didn’t hold Paul Crowne in such high regard.
“I’m sure Marcie would welcome a new pair of boots or a fancy dress, but she’s happy with what she has.” At least, she had been, and he intended to keep it that way. “Do you know what she’d really like?”
Lavinia eyed him warily. “What?”
“She wants the things money can’t buy—love, kindness, understanding. You’ve given her those and more ever since you arrived.”
“I’ve done my best, but I want to give her and the others more than that. Children like presents. You heard her. Christmas won’t be the same without them. The trouble is, I haven’t been able to find what I’m after. The shops here have a limited selection.”
For someone used to shopping in Philadelphia, with excursions to New York when it suited her, that would be true. She was accustomed to finding wares from Europe and beyond, but getting items like those to California was a slow, costly process. The shop owners in the small Gold Rush towns couldn’t afford to carry much aside from the basics.
“Do you know of someplace else I could go? I’m not familiar with the other towns yet.”
“Jackson’s just five miles down the road. I could take you there if you’d like.” What had possessed him to make that offer? He didn’t even like shopping.
Lavinia beamed. “Oh, would you? I’d like that. How about tomorrow? I could leave Dot with Gladys so there wouldn’t be any prying eyes.”
The only eyes he was thinking about were Lavinia’s. They held such childlike delight that he couldn’t resist granting her request. “Sure. Tomorrow would be fine.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m looking forward to it.”
So was he. More than he should.
Chapter Eight
The front door closed with a bang, and Gladys rushed into the kitchen with a wicker basket full of groceries slung over her arm. “Sorry I’m late, Miss Lavinia. I lost track of the time.”
Again? Talking with Mr. Staples, no doubt. Lavinia bit back the reprimand fighting for release. Gladys had been faithful to the family for years. She deserved respect, but the situation had to be addressed.
“I’m glad you’re here now, but I’m disappointed. You knew Henry would be coming soon and that I need you to watch Dot and be here to pick up Marcie and Alex from school if I’m not back in time.”
Gladys pulled a bag of sugar from the basket, reached for the large tin in which it was stored and plunked it on the counter. “Henry’s not here yet, but he will be soon. I saw him at the livery renting the prettiest little buggy.” She tossed a grin over her shoulder. “Looks like he wants to impress you.”
“Perhaps he just wants a comfortable ride.” She’d certainly appreciate one. Bouncing around on a wagon seat could get tiresome.
“In my experience, a feller doesn’t usually think of such things unless he’s sweet on a gal. I should know. Emery’s brother’s in town for a couple of weeks and can watch the shop for him, so he intends to take me for a ride as soon as my half day begins this coming Saturday. He said I’ll be traveling in style.”
It was a good thing Gladys wasn’t facing Lavinia because she couldn’t keep her mouth from gaping. She closed it and processed the startling news. “Is Mr. Staples...courting you?”
Gladys shook out the last of the sugar, turned around and giggled. Like a smitten schoolgirl. “I do hope so.”
“I see. I didn’t realize things had gotten so serious. You know I’m counting on you to bake the desserts for the party. I can trust you, can’t I?”
Gladys dropped her hands to her sides, the empty sugar sack dangling from one hand. “Have I ever let you down?”
Not back east, no, but she’d done so several times since they’d arrived in Sutter Creek. “To be honest, I haven’t been able to rely on you like I used to. I don’t begrudge you your happiness, but I expect you to do your job.”
The housekeeper’s shoulders slumped, making her appear older than she was. She hung her head. A few seconds passed before she lifted her chin, her gaze slowly following.
“You’re right to be upset with me, Miss Lavinia. I guess I didn’t want to own up to having let you down, but I know I have. I don’t have a good excuse. The truth is, no man has ever paid me any mind, not since I lost my beau in the explosion at the gunpowder factory where he worked, so when Emery took a liking to me, my head was turned. If you want me to send word and tell him I can’t accept his offer, I will.”
“Oh, Gladys, I’m sorry you lost your young love. I didn’t know that. I can understand why you want to encourage Mr. Staples, and I won’t stop you. I just want your assurance that you’ll see him on your own time. I need your help—with the children and the party.”
“Yes, miss. I know. I’ll tell Emery so when we go driving Saturday afternoon.”
“I appreciate that.” Without Gladys’s help, she wouldn’t have anything to serve her guests—unless she asked Henry to help, which she wasn’t about to do. He’d agreed to take her shopping, but he wasn’t excited about her plans to throw the party, although just why that was, she couldn’t be sure. Perhaps she’d be able to find out during their outing. “I’ll get my things, say goodbye to Dot and be off.”
“I hope you have a fine time. And don’t worry about things here. I’ll take good care of the children.”
“I know you will.”
Lavinia found her niece in the parlor, crooning carols to her rag doll in hushed tones. “I’m going to be leaving soon, Dot, so I—”
“Shh!” Dot pointed at her doll, which was wrapped in a blanket and nestled in a corner of the settee beside the darling girl. “Zoe is almost asleep. It’s her nap time.”
Lowering her voice to a whisper, Lavinia bid Dot farewell and tiptoed out of the room just as Henry stepped into the entryway.
He gave a hearty laugh, accompanied by one of his endearing smiles that made her want to smile right back. “I didn’t expect you to be waiting for me.”
“I wasn’t.” Not really, although she was glad to see him. “I wanted to warn you to be quiet,” she said in a stage whisper. “Dot’s baby is about to nod off.”
Henry lowered his voice. “I’ll be as quiet as a mouse, but I have to give my girl a kiss before we go.” He tiptoed into the parlor, stooped to buss Dot’s cheek, wished her a lovely day and returned. “Are you ready to go?”
“I am. I’ve been looking forward to th
e trip ever since you suggested it.” She mentally kicked herself. She hadn’t meant to sound quite so eager.
“Have you, now? Then let’s get underway, shall we?” He opened the door and swept an arm toward the waiting buggy, a beautiful model with shiny black wheels and a black leather top that had been folded behind the single seat.
He helped her inside, climbed up and grabbed the reins. She ran a hand over the plush green seat cushion, reveling in the velvet’s softness. “This is lovely, but where will we put the parcels?”
“The livery owner modified the seat so it lifts. We can put them inside.”
“How clever.” That still didn’t leave much room. She couldn’t help but wonder if Henry had planned on that to curtail her shopping. Not that she’d let the limited storage space stop her. If she found what she was after, she’d have the items shipped to her.
A gentle breeze blew, the air crisp but not too chilly. Brilliant blue skies stretched for miles, a sharp contrast to the grass-covered hillsides. “It’s so green.”
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” he said, turning to look at her. “Come May, when the rains stop, everything turns brown.”
“How depressing that must be.”
“You get used to it. There are those who say it’s fitting. After all, this is the Golden State.” He grinned but sobered quickly. “Not that you’ll be here to see it then, of course.”
“True.” She and the children would be back in Philadelphia strolling through Rittenhouse Square and taking walks along the Schuylkill River—provided she could come up with grounds to have the will overturned or Henry removed from his position as guardian.
She’d spent a good two hours taking notes on the statutes listed in Mr. Price’s book that day. All she had to do was figure out a way to use one of them to her benefit, which she would. She wasn’t about to leave Sutter Creek without Alex, Marcie and Dot.
The drive flew by as Lavinia and Henry talked about the children’s antics, Christmases of their pasts and more, avoiding the topic of guardianship as though by mutual consent. Before she knew it, they neared the outskirts of Jackson.