by Kit Morgan
Bernice, too, was aghast. “Mother! How can you say such a thing?”
“Because it’s true. Now run along home while I make the arrangements. Mercy and I will have to work out a schedule with Mrs. Brock.”
Mercy sighed. “Well, you can speak with Ellie, but she might not be interested.”
“She will be when she hears my offer.”
Mercy was about to comment, but glared at her instead. “Eunice Caulder, don’t think to steal my maid from me.”
“What do you need her for anyway? You already have one.”
“And I like having two.”
“Oh for Heaven’s sake,” Julian cut in. “Ellie’s a grown woman. Stop it and let the girl make up her own mind.”
“Where is she?” Eunice asked, ignoring him.
“I’ll go see. She’s probably in the kitchen getting supper ready.” Mercy excused herself and left the room.
Eunice turned to Bernice. “If I get her for you, you promise me you’ll treat her the way she should be treated.”
Bernice’s brow furrowed. “Of course I will, Mother. I’m not mean.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Bernice glanced nervously at Julian. “Then what do you mean?”
“You’ll not take tea with a servant, is that understood? A servant is just that – they are there to serve and quite beneath a young lady such as yourself.”
“Oh, that …” Bernice said as she looked at the floor. “I understand.”
“As do I,” Julian said in a stern tone and stood. He marched directly to the kitchen.
“Julian!” Bernice cried after him. “Where are you going?”
He didn’t answer as he burst through the kitchen doors. Betsy and Cecil were standing at the stove next to Mrs. Vander. “Where is she?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Betsy said. “I sent her home.”
“What? Why?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”
“Seemed like it, but she wouldn’t tell me. Why don’t you go after her and find out?”
He took in each of their faces, then turned to the door leading outside. “Capital idea. I’ll do that.”
He left, but not so quickly that he didn’t hear Betsy’s last remark: “Mm-hmm. I bet you will.”
* * *
Julian walked to the Brocks’ with angry strides. But he wasn’t angry with Ellie. It was Eunice Caulder’s snide remarks about her that had him in a fury. That whole backward plantation mentality – hadn’t the Union won that war? He’d like to propose to Ellie right in front of the woman, just to wipe that haughty look off her face ...
He stopped short. Propose? He started walking again. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought of Ellie and marriage together – in fact, he’d spent most of the last week thinking about it. She was still, as far as he could tell, the best choice in Independence for him. Bernice was … not horrible, and he could see that Professor Hamilton was trying to help the girl better herself. He was glad for that – she appeared to be paying closer attention to how she looked and cared for herself. If this kept up, she was bound to catch some fellow’s eye. But it wouldn’t be his – especially not given the possibility of her mother as an in-law.
He reached the Brocks’ home and knocked on the door. Mr. Brock answered. “Why, Julian – to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Brock. Is Miss Sampson in?”
“Miss Sampson? Oh yes, Mahulda’s new project.”
“Project?”
“Er, maid,” he corrected. “I don’t believe she’s here.”
“She didn’t come home?”
“No, she’s working for the Vanders this afternoon and evening. It’s not our day.”
“Betsy told me she went home.”
Mr. Brock shrugged. “I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen her. Have you checked down at the mercantile or the café?”
“No. Thank you, sir, I’ll do that.” He turned and headed back the way he’d come. If she were upset, where would she go? He’d check the café first – maybe she went to go have a cup of coffee …
But there was no sign of her there, or at the mercantile. “I don’t understand it,” he told Morgan. “We had such a nice time at the Edmonsons’ last week with the children. I don’t mind telling you I was worried she didn’t like little ones. But after watching her with baby Ella and the others, I see that she adores them.”
“Yes, it wouldn’t do to marry a woman who didn’t like children when you yourself want to have some.”
Julian blinked at him a few times. “Who said anything about marriage?”
Morgan grinned. “You don’t have to, Julian. I know you too well. You’re in love with the girl.”
“In love?!”
“You heard me,” Morgan said as he reached under the front counter and pulled out a jar of candy. “Here, have one. You look like you could use it.”
Julian reached into the jar and took three, popping one into his mouth. “Okay, I admit I’m a little attracted to her ...”
Morgan took a piece himself and raised one eyebrow at him. “A little attracted.”
“Maybe a lot attracted.”
“Anyone would be; she’s pretty. But what else is she?”
“She’s …” Julian took a deep breath. “Vulnerable. Yes, that’s the word. Terribly vulnerable.”
“That can be good or bad,” said Morgan. “Have you discovered which?”
“No, but I’m working on it. That is, if I find her – I need to get to her before Eunice Caulder does.”
“Mrs. Caulder?”
“Yes, she offered Ellie a job – as a ladies’ maid to Bernice, of all things.”
Morgan gawked for only a moment, then laughed. “Egads, what a catastrophe that would be!”
“For who, Bernice or Ellie?”
“Both if Bernice’s mother is involved. Actually, I think given a little time, Bernice and Ellie could be friends. I don’t know what’s come over Bernice lately, but it’s an improvement.”
“Yes, she’s been changing a little more every day. I think Professor Hamilton and Mr. Winters have something to do with that.”
“Maybe they gave her some books on beauty or something?”
“I don’t know what they’re doing, but Bernice is going to have herself a fine time at the Valentine’s dance.”
“Are you taking her?”
“No, I rather had my heart set on asking Ellie.”
“Have you talked to the Vanders and the Brocks about taking her?”
“Not yet, I was going to ask Garrett’s mother today, then Mrs. Caulder brought up Ellie working for Bernice, and that rather ruined everything. It was the last I saw of her.”
“She was that upset, eh?”
“Obviously, which means I’d best be going. I still want to speak with her before Mrs. Caulder – or anyone else – does.”
“Good luck,” said Morgan. “But if you ask Ellie to the dance, you’d better make it clear to Bernice who it is you’re taking so she isn’t disappointed. From the way people are talking, they all think you’re escorting her.”
“You mean from the way Eunice Caulder is talking. You of all people should know how she can be.”
Morgan rolled his eyes and cringed. “Boy, do I ever! At least Aunt Eunice isn’t here to stir up any trouble as Mrs. Caulder’s sidekick.”
Now it was Julian’s turn to cringe. “I couldn’t agree with you more.” He grabbed another piece of candy, smiled and turned. “These are for Ellie,” he called over his shoulder as he went out the door.
Morgan stood and shook his head. “I should’ve sold him a box,” he muttered to himself. “From the sounds of it, he’s going to need more than a few pieces of candy to win Miss Sampson.”
Thirteen
Ellie walked back to town with a bounce in her step. As soon as she reached her room at the Brocks’, she’d write a letter to the family Davey was staying with. Didn’t they have relations in this area? She thought she�
�d heard it mentioned before, but wasn’t sure. She hoped they were still able to come as scheduled.
But wait – she still had to speak with Mrs. Brock and Mrs. Vander, and let them know she had a son … oh dear. Maybe she better do that before writing the letter. What if either woman didn’t like the idea of their housemaid having a child? Well, she wouldn’t know unless she asked, so she’d best take care of it quickly.
“You know you shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”
Ellie jumped at the voice. “Oh! Julian – you scared me to death!”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. But had I been someone of, shall we say, a less savory nature, you could be in trouble right now. You didn’t even see me.”
Ellie looked back the way she’d come. “No, I didn’t. I guess my mind was on other things.”
“I suggest you pay closer attention from now on. Just in case.” He came away from the tree he was leaning against and walked up to her. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”
She gave him a tentative smile. “Thank you.”
Julian offered her his arm. “May I escort you back to town?”
Ellie stared at it a moment, unsure of what to do, but reminded herself that he was simply being a gentleman. She took it as he smiled at her.
“Where did you go?” he asked as they headed back to town.
Ellie started at the question. “Excuse me?”
“Where did you go? It’s rather cold to be out walking, don’t you think?”
She cast him a quick glance, then looked away. “Just … thinking.”
“Thinking? Now there’s a dangerous occupation – for some of us, anyway.”
She looked at him. “Why do you say that? Is it for you?”
“It has been at times, yes. Myself, I tend to overthink things.”
“I’d say that makes you thorough.”
“My friends tell me it makes me obsessive.”
She chuckled. “Does it?”
“Probably.”
“And what have you obsessed about lately?”
He smiled at her ruefully. “Well, if you must know … you.”
“Me?”
“Yes – you seem to keep swirling around in my head along with this dance business. Why is that, do you suppose?”
“You mean the Valentine’s dance.”
“It’s the only dance I know of.”
She blushed. “Yes, of course.”
“Do I make you nervous? You’re turning a lovely shade of pink.”
She smiled as her cheeks heated. “At times, I’ll admit you do.”
“My, but you’re frightfully honest.”
Her blush deepened. But it wasn’t from his teasing so much as from her own shame. Sooner or later he’d find out about Davey, and then what would he think? She should probably tell him. If she stayed here – and she wanted to – he was going to find out anyway, as was the rest of the town ... “I try to be. Most of the time, anyway.”
“Most of the time? You don’t come across as possessing even a hint of dishonesty.”
Shame burned through her at the remark. “I think we all have a few secrets.”
“Hmmm, I suppose you’re right, considering our sinful nature. I stole candy from Tindle’s mercantile once. I was even so heartless as to let Morgan take the blame.”
“What? That’s horrible!”
“Yes, I had the devil in me at six. I think I’ve grown out of it, though.”
She chuckled, but didn’t know what else to say.
Julian filled in the gap. “Are you ... going to the dance?”
“Me? Why, I have no idea. If I do it will be because Mrs. Vander needs my help.”
“What about going to the dance simply because it’s … well, a dance?”
She looked at him. “I couldn’t say.”
Julian stopped. “What would you say,” he asked as he turned to her and gazed into her eyes, “if I asked you to accompany me?”
Ellie’s mouth dropped open. “What?” Hadn’t they already been through this once?
“I’m asking if you would accompany me to the Valentine’s dance. Will you?”
“Julian … I can’t.”
“You’ve said that before, but to be honest, I don’t see why not. It’s not like Mrs. Vander or Mrs. Brock is going to mind. You said yourself you’ll probably be there to help anyway. Why not with an escort?”
“But … I thought you were taking Bernice …”
“No, I’m not asking Bernice – I’m asking you.” He hooked a finger under her chin and leaned toward her. “Will you?”
His fingers were warm against her skin and she felt her heart melt. She swallowed hard. “Julian …”
“… I’d love to go to the dance with you,” he finished for her. “Oh Julian, yes I would!”
She laughed, then shook her head. “I don’t know if I can.”
“You want to know what I know?” he asked, his voice gentle.
She gazed into his eyes, only to discover an affection she hadn’t seen there before. Was it for her? “What?”
“I know that you want to go with me, but something’s holding you back. I can’t say what it is, I only know that it’s there.”
She took a deep breath. He wasn’t making this easy.
He removed his hand from her chin and straightened. “Is there someone else … someone waiting for you back where you come from?” he asked. “Because if there is, I understand. I just wish you would’ve told me earlier.”
She looked away. There was someone waiting for her all right.
He noted the action and sighed. “I see. Is that what you meant when you spoke of dishonesty?”
Her head snapped around. “Julian … it’s not …”
“Wait,” he interrupted, holding up a hand. “It’s all right – you don’t have to explain yourself.” He turned away from her and continued walking.
“Julian, Davey is not what you …”
“David, is it? Why isn’t he here with you?”
Ellie sighed in frustration. “Davey is not what you think.”
He went silent for a moment, then asked “is it serious between the two of you? Are you betrothed?”
This time she laughed in shock. “No, we are not betrothed.”
“Are you going back to him?”
“Yes, of course.” She looked up at him. It was now or never ...
“So, you’re going to leave Independence?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure. I rather like it here, to be honest.”
“Oh, so now you’re being honest?”
“Julian, please, don’t make this more difficult –”
“I thought I was keeping things quite simple. All I did was ask you to the Valentine’s dance, then you tell me about this Davey fellow of yours. Maybe you should invite him to go with you.”
She put her hand to her forehead. They were getting all tangled up in this conversation, all because she wouldn’t just spit out the truth. Well, out with it, Ellie! “Julian, I would look quite absurd going to a dance with a four-year-old as my escort, don’t you think?”
It was several seconds before Julian could speak. “Four?” he finally croaked. “I … wait a second. Who is this Davey?”
Ellie swallowed hard and looked him in the eye. “He’s my son.”
Thankfully, there was a conveniently placed boulder right there by the path to sit on. Julian collapsed onto it. “You have a son?” he whispered.
She pursed her lips a moment. “Is that a problem?”
His eyes widened. “Well … no, of course not. You’re a mother … where is Davey’s father?”
Hell, no doubt, she thought to herself, but decided against saying that. “He’s dead,” she said flatly.
Slowly he rose and went to her. “What happened? I mean, perhaps I shouldn’t pry –”
She cut him off. “Whiskey happened,” she said with a sigh. “He … he drank himself to death.”
“Oh my.
So … you’re a widow, then?”
She nodded. ‘It’s what usually happens after a husband dies. And it hasn’t been easy.”
“So you came here looking for work …” His eyes darted between her and the road. They’d be back in town soon, which didn’t give him much time to question her. He had to know more.
“Something like that,” she said.
“But why isn’t your son here with you?”
“Because I didn’t know how things were going to work out. I still don’t, come to think of it.”
“I see,” he said thoughtfully. “Do the Vanders and the Brocks know? Is that what you’re worried about?”
She closed her eyes a moment. “No, they don’t – and I need to tell them. But don’t let me burden you with my troubles ...”
He took her by the shoulders and gently turned her to face him. “You’re not a burden to me in any way. On the contrary, I hate the fact that you are… burdened, I mean.”
“It’s my problem, Mr. Smythe…”
“Julian,” he corrected. “Just because you told me about your son doesn’t mean you have to call me Mr. Smythe again.” He noticed she was trembling, and quickly doffed his coat to place it around her shoulders. “I told you it was too cold out here to be walking.” He took her arm, wrapped it through his again and set off with determined steps.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he pulled her along beside him.
They’d almost reached town, but he headed in the opposite direction from where she’d expected. “We’re going to the mercantile.”
“Whatever for?”
“You’ll see when we get there.” The fact that she was a widow with a four-year-old son bothered him – not because she hadn’t told him, or because she wasn’t a blushing virgin. He hated that she’d had to struggle to survive after losing her husband, even to the point of having to separate herself from her little boy. It was just wrong.
Of course, he wished she’d told him earlier. But now he admired her all the more for her toughness, even as he wanted to take her in his arms and tell her she would be all right, that she didn’t have to be so tough anymore. He didn’t quite know what to do about all that yet. But at least he could do the one thing he’d been meaning to do for days.