But it was too late. “He has no ties here now. The factory has been sold. The orphanage isn’t his dream.”
“And this exact orphanage is your dream? This particular one?”
She swallowed against the knot in her throat. Children were her dream. Whether in an orphanage or in her arms, it didn’t matter.
“What about Sadie?”
What did she have to do with the orphanage? “Your housekeeper, Sadie?”
“Yes. If Franklin ever gets his nerve together to ask for her hand, would you advise Sadie to say no because there’s bound to be someone better for him than a former child prostitute?”
This was in no way similar to that. “She was forced into that life. If Franklin can’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve her. But my marriage and its failure were my fault.”
The coach stopped, and she opened up the door instead of waiting for Mr. Parker.
She’d been willing to tell Lydia her story, just as she had her parents. But they’d not prodded her about David. Why was Lydia more interested in him than the whole crazy divorce thing? How she wished Lydia was more interested in that!
Franklin opened the front door with enthusiasm. “Happy to have you return, Mrs. Lowe.” He stiffened as they walked inside in front of him, holding his back straight and tall like a soldier’s. “A courier brought you a letter while you were away, Miss Wisely.”
Since when did she get mail from a courier? Her hands shook as she took off her gloves. Had Detective Cruse found out her divorce was invalid, or something worse?
37
Franklin retrieved the letter off the entryway table.
Evelyn struggled to get her last glove off. Who but Detective Cruse would send anything to her through a courier?
Lydia seemed to sense her tension and laid a gentle hand on her arm.
Franklin turned with a smile, evidently oblivious to her nerves, and handed it to her. “May I take your coat?” He went behind to help Lydia shrug out of hers.
“No, I’m fine.” It was rather warm, but she hadn’t time to bother. She flipped the envelope over in her hands.
Her stomach stopped churning—but it didn’t exactly settle either. The return address was Kansas City.
David?
She took the letter opener Franklin handed her and sliced through the business stationery, wondering at the envelope’s bulkiness. She pulled out several folded pages and a paper fluttered to the floor. Stooping, she picked up the escapee.
A check. For seventy dollars.
She blinked.
“Well, what is it?” Lydia queried breathlessly.
“I don’t know.” She unfolded the other pieces of paper, and her heart stopped. The drawing of her asleep near Scott on his sickbed pulled at her heartstrings. He’d returned it. The next two pages were also drawings. They weren’t nearly as good—as David had said, he wasn’t an exceptional artist—but then again, these weren’t portraits he could have drawn while looking at his subject. The first was of her with baby Hope lying on her chest, rocking her to sleep in the music room. Hadn’t that been the day Lydia had told them of her idea for the charity dinner?
It was strange to miss Hope’s distressed cries, but when Nicholas had approved the Dewitts to take her, she’d been relieved that the baby would be better taken care of and had found a permanent home.
The next drawing was of her again, on the balcony the night of the ball. Though she knew she’d caked on the special powder Lydia had given her to cover her scars, he’d lightly penciled them in anyway.
Had he returned the pictures because he couldn’t stand to look at her anymore?
“What’s the bank check for?”
Lydia flipped the drawings over and saw nothing scribbled on the backs. Checking the inside of the envelope turned up a paper she’d missed.
Evelyn,
I’d pledged to cover four days’ worth of food a month for your ministries. Twenty dollars will be sent each month and should cover that expense—if not, let me know. The extra fifty is for start-up costs. From now on I’ll have my secretary send you the checks, but I wanted you to have my personal address.
If you hadn’t heard, the two ladies who lost their positions at A. K. G. have found replacements in the big city. If any of their friends need a job, feel free to contact me here, not at the business address, and I’ll see what I can do.
I understand why you don’t wish selfishly on stars now. It’s not very fun when you know you can’t have what you want, is it? But I won’t let you give up on the dreams you can pursue.
David
“What does it say?”
She handed the paper to Lydia and worked to get her coat off, worked to keep from running upstairs to her room and hiding from the pain of what was lost.
“So how are you going to answer?”
She frowned, hoping her voice would form words without betraying the tremble in her lip and the twitch near her eye. “Answer what? There weren’t any questions.”
“I know you like to keep your feelings tucked away, but don’t tell me you aren’t even going to write him.”
“What would I write? There aren’t any women I know of at the moment in need of jobs, and . . . I don’t know what I should say.” She had plenty to say, but what if she shouldn’t say anything? She picked up the check for the seventy dollars and sat on the chair near the hat rack. What should the fifty dollars go to? She probably ought to hand it over to Nicholas.
“Start by thanking him for the donation.” Lydia sat beside her. “And then follow that up with the entire story you’ve yet to tell me, ending with the very important information regarding your marital status.”
Evelyn ran her fingers across the check. “But I told you on the way here, I’d only cause him problems.”
“Don’t leave him in the dark like James left you.”
Tears pricked her eyes and her hand froze. “I . . .”
“Aren’t you always telling us that when God says no, sometimes He makes you wait for something better?”
Of course that was what she often said, but sometimes He simply said no. She shrugged.
“Can’t you see God guarded your heart until David came along?”
“What does that mean?”
Lydia leaned back and looked down her nose at her as if she were looking through magnifying lenses. “What would have happened if you knew you weren’t married years ago?”
She looked away. “I’d have married Mr. Patterson or any of the other men people pushed at me over the years.”
“Right, because you would’ve seen the good in them all.”
“No one pushed horrible men at me. They were all fine gentlemen.”
Lydia took her hand. “I love you for always wanting to see the best in people, but were any of those men better than David?”
Her throat clogged and tears threatened. “Not for me, no.”
“See?”
Without even looking over at Lydia, she could imagine the triumphant grin that lit her face. “But why would God put me through this agony?” The last several nights she’d been unable to sleep wondering about the timing. “God could have informed me of my divorce before David arrived so I could’ve been free to love him. The private investigator could have come the day before David proposed.” She found herself crushing the bank check, so she smoothed it back out. “That makes me think God doesn’t want me to marry David either.”
“What I think is you’ve worked so hard over the years to resign yourself to the worst that you don’t really believe He intends good for you.”
“But David’s father is right; I’m not good enough for him.” Evelyn sucked in air to attempt to cool her face. “I thought I’d matured, that the eighteen-year-old romantic blockhead whisked away by fancy and a handsome face was long gone. But when David came along, I couldn’t keep my head about me despite believing I was still married. My emotions took over, my ability to think properly—”
“Even if you had been
married while David was here, you might have been tempted with attraction, tempted with lust, but you never chose to act on those feelings, right? The seventh commandment doesn’t say, ‘Thou shalt not be tempted to commit adultery,’ but that you shouldn’t commit it.”
“But Jesus said anyone who simply thinks about adultery commits it.”
“He said if a man looks at a woman to lust after her he has committed adultery.” Lydia took her hand. “The sin is in the choice, not the thought that brings about temptation. Did you ever say, ‘I’m going to entertain these fancies about David though I know I shouldn’t?’”
She wriggled in her chair. “I certainly tried hard not to, but I don’t think I truly succeeded.”
“So when you fell in love despite yourself, did you act upon it?”
“No, I turned him away.”
Lydia nudged her with her elbow. “You technically didn’t even have to. You’re allowed to entertain your feelings for David now.”
“But what about the divorce?” That was certainly not what God wanted for anyone. “What about the fact that I basically hoped the detective would inform me I was a widow? What kind of Christian woman wishes her estranged husband dead?”
“So then ask God to forgive you, Evelyn. If someone wants to condemn you for it, don’t worry about them if you’re forgiven by God.” Lydia stole her other hand and gently tugged until she looked at Lydia, whose gaze penetrated into hers. “Give David some credit—don’t you think he’s the kind of guy who’ll love his bride like Christ loves the church?”
She was blessed to know several men like that, and David was certainly among their number. “Yes.”
“Then don’t you think he’d forgive you for your married past or whatever other wrongs you think you committed against him?”
“I’m actually certain he’ll forgive me, but I’m afraid he’ll feel duty bound to marry me since he proposed—because he is that sacrificial.”
“Do you believe God forgives sins?” At Evelyn’s confused nod, Lydia continued. “So once you allowed Him to do so that first time, He was duty bound to give you eternal life because He sacrificed himself for that purpose and promised to give it, but you didn’t refuse to accept that gift because you were unworthy of it, did you?”
Evelyn sniffed. “No, because that would be stupid. I could never be worthy of God’s gift of eternal life. I’m simply thankful for it.”
Lydia jabbed her in the ribs. “Then don’t be stupid with David. Don’t reject his love because you don’t feel worthy of it.”
She didn’t want to be stupid, but she wanted what was best for him too.
But if she didn’t let him decide, was she any better than his father?
The clock struck the quarter hour, and she heard Nicholas hollering for the children to come inside. “But I couldn’t leave you two to run this orphanage alone—”
“Do I have to buy you the ticket myself?” Lydia rolled her eyes.
Evelyn hugged her friend tight, letting out a few of the tears she’d kept imprisoned. “Yes, you certainly do because I have no money.” She chuckled and pulled away, wiping the tears off her cheek. “But I’m afraid to face him. It was hard enough watching him leave the first time.”
Lydia took her cold hand in her warm one. “This from someone who walks alone through the red-light district with a pistol in her pocket. You’ll have an entire train ride to muster up the courage to face whatever decision he makes.”
38
The carriage slowed, and Evelyn looked out the window. She’d expected to stop in front of a row of townhouses or in a quiet Kansas City neighborhood, but instead, a large house loomed in front of her. Black iron and rock fencing surrounded a yard full of trees and manicured bushes that took up half a block. The house’s floor-to-ceiling windows were lit by hundreds of lights, though nightfall was more than a half hour away.
However, they were behind quite the line of carriages and fancy automobiles flowing into the property. Perhaps her driver was just stuck in traffic.
She pressed back against her seat and took a steadying breath. Hiring someone to take her to David’s had cost more than she’d expected, and despite the carriage being well sprung and having cushioned seats and fur lap robes, it had been the most uncomfortable ride of her life. Taking her heart’s erratic rhythm into account, she might as well have been flitting about the city in a full gallop.
The carriage turned to the left. They’d turned in with the others? She looked out the window again. They had indeed entered onto the estate grounds. In front of the house, a woman in a fancy violet dress was being helped from her carriage by a well-dressed servant. A man in a black tailcoat stepped out of the vehicle and followed her under the columned porch.
The automobile behind the couple stopped. A servant opened the passenger door for a woman in a full-length dark maroon coat and a hat so full of feathers it seemed she’d fly away if a gust of wind took her by surprise.
Evelyn dropped her gaze onto her lap and cringed at her plain outfit as they moved slowly forward. How could she step out of this carriage in such simple attire? She’d not thought to change out of her blue wool traveling suit, but then, she hadn’t packed anything that would have sufficed for a gathering such as this.
Hopefully the driver had made a mistake.
The carriage stopped, and she closed her eyes, her heart in her throat. If this indeed was David’s place, perhaps it would be best to tell her driver she’d changed her mind and wanted to be taken back to the hotel.
“Miss?” The driver opened the door, popped his head into the carriage, and held out his hand. “May I help you alight?”
His smile was wider than a river. Had he not looked around and seen how inadequately she was dressed? She clamped onto her lap robe, sinking her fingers into the soft fur, its warmth persuading her to stay where it was more . . . comfortable. “Are you sure this is David Kingsman’s residence?”
“Absolutely. Never got to drive in here before, but I’ve certainly admired it in passing.” His eyes narrowed and took a quick sweep of her. “You’re not here for the party?”
He was simply a driver. Surely he wouldn’t lock her in and drive off to keep her from attending—not that she actually wanted to attend a party. She relaxed her hands to keep from crumpling the skirt of her dress. Wrinkles would not help her situation. “I’m just a bit . . . nervous.”
But if she didn’t go now, she’d worry all night long about whether this party was celebrating something in particular—like an engagement—and convince herself not to return.
Surely this had nothing to do with David and Marianne. This was likely nothing more than a simple welcome-back party . . . with tuxedos.
The driver stepped farther in, and she took his hand, hoping he’d yank her out. She might not be able to exit any other way.
Though he only gently tugged her forward, her curiosity won her over.
Once she exited the carriage, the driver behind them glared at her.
Holding up traffic hadn’t charmed him any.
She turned around, but her driver was already climbing back into his seat. He grabbed the reins and glanced down at her. “I’ll return on the hour.”
“Wait.” She’d figured by then she’d know whether or not David’s driver could return her to the hotel. But with a party? “Can you return in two?”
“Sure can, miss.” He tipped his hat and flicked his reins. “Giddap!”
The second he pulled away, she wanted to holler at him to come back. She didn’t have an invitation. How did she expect to get in? Oh, what had she been thinking?
Another row of vehicles pulled up. She couldn’t just stand there in the way of all the party guests.
She kept her head down as she moved to the front door, wishing she’d at least packed her dress from the Lowes’ ball. She’d still be underdressed, but at least she wouldn’t be so horribly out of place. She drew in a long breath of autumn air. If only she’d had the patience to w
ait until morning.
One of the butlers ushering people inside stopped in front of her and scowled. “I’m afraid you’re very late. The servants’ entrance is on the east side of the house.”
Her cheeks heated, but she nodded and hurried away from the snickering behind her. She wasn’t about to argue that she wasn’t a servant right now—it was probably the easiest way to get in dressed as she was. She ran a hand along the boxwood bushes running parallel to the pavement stones and the front of the house. She guessed that in bright daylight the house was gray, but maybe it was a blue. The windows on both floors were taller than she was, their rounded white cornices beautifully carved. The house wasn’t quite as large as the mansion, yet David’s estate felt ten times more intimidating. She’d padded through the Lowes’ mansion many times in her bare feet—that building felt like home. This one felt like a fortress.
Did David really live here? Maybe he lived with his father—that certainly might explain the grandeur.
What had she been thinking coming here? David would never have to settle for her—or even Marianne, for that matter. How many women of good social standing with deep pockets had their eyes set on this estate? And it wasn’t as if David himself would make a poor choice for any bride.
If it weren’t for the fact that Lydia had married someone much richer than herself and had a good marriage despite their difference in social standing, she’d not even bother going inside. But she had to at least tell David the truth about her marriage and divorce. He’d done so much for her, he deserved to know.
A door opened on the side of the building, and a young man exited with a vat of something that stunk. Evelyn caught his eye, wrinkling her nose at the acrid smell.
He scowled himself. “They burned the gravy, and I got tasked with getting rid of it.” He looked her up and down. “You better get in and see Mrs. Humpreys right away and get into uniform.”
She forced herself not to correct him. “Can you tell me when the party will be underway?”
“Near thirty minutes, as far as I can tell. They plan to do the announcement around six thirty and eat afterwards. If it weren’t for the fact that we’re short staffed, I’d tell you not to bother coming in as late as you are. Brace yourself for quite the tongue-lashing and a dock in pay.”
A Love So True Page 31