by Renee Yancy
***
Reverend Winthrop sat frozen in his chair after Vera Lindenmayer swept out of the room. A cold sweat had broken out on his face, and he pulled out his pocket-handkerchief to mop his forehead. The unmitigated gall of the woman to threaten him like this.
He sighed, pushed away from his desk, and went into the hallway to call up the stairs. “Jack!”
Jenny passed him with a stack of clean linen in her arms. “He isn’t here, sir, he went out early this mornin.’”
Oh no. He took the stairs two at a time, burst panting into his nephew’s bedroom, and spied the letter on the dresser. Sinking onto the bed, he tore it open and read the contents. Then he groaned and buried his head in his hands. What a tangle.
***
Hours later that evening, Jack waited in the frozen bushes across from Seaside’s gate on Bellevue Avenue. Scudding clouds hid the moon and stars, so much the better for an escape. He stamped his feet to warm them and rubbed his arms briskly. How soon would she be able to get away? He had secreted the carriage in a copse of trees around the corner on Ruggles Avenue. He’d paid the driver well, to ensure he would wait all night if need be. Money hadn’t been as much of a problem since his mother had left him a small inheritance.
Wind blew steadily from the ocean, rattling tree branches and carrying the tang of salt. He stared at the lights glowing in the windows of the mansion and tried to imagine Lindy stealthily sneaking along the servant’s staircase and out the door. Once he got his arms around her, he’d never let her go.
He hummed a tune under his breath as the minutes and then the hours passed. The clouds blew away, revealing the stars, and the air grew steadily colder. He pulled out his pocket watch and stared at the clock face. Three a.m. He exhaled hard, sending a puff of mist into the air and gritted his teeth. She would come. She would!
Chapter 36
Newport, Rhode Island
Lindy stood with her face pressed against the cold windowpane while the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed three a.m. No moon or starlight illumined the darkness outside. Now he waited for her in the cold, hidden in the trees. And she a prisoner in her own bedroom. Oh, Jack, Jack.
It was past dawn before Lindy left her post and lay upon her bed, tearless. It was over. Done. When no word came from her, when she didn’t spirit herself out of the house and fall into his arms, he would have known the answer was no. Despair must have filled his heart as it had filled hers.
There was nothing else to be done.
She pulled the bell cord at the side of the bed, wondering who would appear now that Claudine had been dismissed.
A key turned in the lock, and then a discreet knock sounded at the door. Her mother’s maid, Hortense, peeked in. “You rang, miss?”
“Please ask my mother to come to me.”
Hortense nodded, closed the door, and locked it again. It wasn’t long before her mother bustled in with her Pomeranian in her arms, her Japanese morning kimono trailing behind her. “You wanted to see me, Evangeline?”
Her eyes were bright. She cuddled the dog, lavishly bestowing kisses on its face while she waited for Lindy to answer.
Lindy swallowed hard. “You can allow me out of my room, Mother. I won’t run away. It’s over.”
Mama tipped her head to one side and considered her. “Will you give me your word?”
“That’s funny, Mother, you asking me to give my word.”
Her mother had the grace to look slightly ashamed. “Nevertheless, I will have it.”
“Very well. You have my word. Mother.”
Her mother frowned. “Why do you call me that, Evangeline? I don’t like the way you say it. Mother. So coldly.”
How can she pretend nothing happened? Had she no feelings, no sympathy for a devastated daughter? Lindy lay on her bed and turned her face away. If only she could fall down a rabbit hole like Alice, and wake up somewhere else.
Her bedroom door closed quietly a moment later. Lindy cried herself to sleep.
***
Jack stepped off the train in a fog of muddled thoughts and made his way through the depot to Forty-Second Street. Hard to believe only yesterday he’d taken the same train to Newport in a completely different frame of mind. His shoulders slumped. Not knowing what had happened dragged at him like the proverbial albatross. Had she changed her mind? Had they been found out? Had she been prevented from leaving? After the incident in the Lindenmayer salon with Vera Lindenmayer, he believed her quite capable of violence.
Too soon, he reached his street. Now he would have to face his uncle, who was, to put it mildly, sure to be displeased with him. As soon as he opened the door, his uncle walked into the hallway, and a pang went through Jack at his uncle’s haggard face and disheveled appearance.
They stared at each other, the overhead lamp casting deep shadows over his uncle’s face. It was plain from the puffy bags under his tired eyes that he hadn’t slept much the night before either.
“So you’re back,” his uncle said. “Please come into the parlor.”
Silently, Jack followed his uncle into the sitting room. His uncle stirred up the fire, replaced the poker, then sank heavily into the chair opposite Jack. “I read your letter.”
Jack nodded.
“So what happened?”
“She never came. I... don’t know if her parents prevented her or...” He clenched his fists.
His uncle tiredly ran a hand over his face and frowned. “I warned you about her, Jack. The Lindenmayers are a different class.” He stood up and paced in front of the fireplace. “I’m afraid I have some bad news too. Several pieces of bad news, actually.” He turned to face him. “I’ve had some—some financial trouble recently.” He shrugged. “Just temporary, I think, but I’m afraid you’ll have to leave your classes for a bit. I’m arranging a position for you upstate until my finances allow you to resume your classes.”
Jack exhaled hard. If he left New York, it would be even more difficult to see Lindy. “Uncle, I have the small inheritance from my mother. I could use it to finish school.”
His uncle shook his head. “You need to save that for the future, Jack.”
My future doesn’t exist if I can’t have Lindy.
“You take it, then, Uncle. Use it for whatever you need.”
“That’s kind of you. But no. Please oblige me in this.”
Jack hesitated. His uncle’s hands shook, and the tense posture of his shoulders seemed odd. And there was an undertone of pleading in his words.
Jack sighed. He owed his uncle a great deal. “You’ve been more than generous to me, Uncle. I’ll do whatever I can to help you. You said there were several pieces of bad news?” What else could go wrong today?
His uncle pulled a letter from his waistcoat pocket and held it out. “This came by special messenger.”
A spear went through Jack’s chest at the elegant handwriting on the cream envelope. Lindy. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Then he took the envelope and went upstairs to his room.
Dearest Jack,
Best to get it over with right away, although I never thought I would say these words. Our marriage would be a mistake, Jack. We aren’t suited to each other. I should never have accepted your proposal, and I have come to see that in disobeying my parents, I have disobeyed our dear Lord, who calls us to obedience. I realize now it is my duty to trust my parents and marry the duke.
Please forgive me. I will always think of you fondly.
Yours,
Lindy
He whirled and hit the wall, his fist crashing through the wooden lathes as if they were matchsticks. Horsehair plaster crumbled to the floor. Jack stared at the gaping hole in the wallpaper, ignoring the pain in his bruised knuckles.
Had she truly changed her mind? Or had her mother somehow intervened? He shuddered, remembering the snarl on Vera Lindenmayer’s face before she threw the vase at him. It had to be her doing.
But what could he do now? He’d never be able to get to Lindy again. Her mother woul
d see to that. He fell to his knees against the bed, closed his eyes, and tried to pray through the mess of thoughts fomenting in his head.
An hour later, he was still on his knees with no words left to pray, and no closer to an answer.
Chapter 37
Jeweled light from the stained-glass window fell across Lindy’s lap, turning the pale silk of her afternoon dress to ruby red and emerald green. The martyrdom of St. Lawrence. Surely being roasted alive on a red-hot gridiron couldn’t be any more excruciating than sitting here with the duke in her mother’s Gothic sitting room.
Forgive me, Lord, for that unlovely thought.
“Miss Lindenmayer.” The duke leaned closer, his fair skin ruddy in the dim light. “I believe you know why I am here in Newport.”
She nodded.
He searched her face and frowned. “Forgive me, but have you quite recovered from your dyspepsia?”
So that was what her mother had told the duke to account for Lindy’s absence the last two days. Heartburn. Close. But her heart didn’t burn. It had shattered into a thousand pieces. What did one call that? She swallowed. “Yes, Your Grace, I’m quite well.”
And I’ve become quite a good liar.
He reached into the pocket of his frockcoat. “Your mother gave me to understand this will not be a surprise.” A small box covered in gold embossed red leather appeared. He flipped the top to reveal a rose-cut diamond ring, surrounded by sapphires and nestled in white satin. “I formally ask for your hand in marriage.” He pulled out the ring, dropped to one knee, and held it out to her. A smile creased his normally sedate features, only to fade away when she didn’t take the ring,
“Miss Lindenmayer?”
A burning heat trapped her voice in her throat. Tears welled, and she drew a ragged breath.
“My dear Evangeline! Tears at such a time.” He got up and sat near her. “Take the ring.” He held it closer. Cold fire gleamed from its perfect depths, mocking her.
Jack, oh, Jack.
“Is there a problem with the ring? You don’t like it? I’ll get another. You may have whatever you wish.”
If only that were true.
“What is it?” His voice took on a harder edge when she didn’t answer. “Is there some other difficulty? I understood that you welcomed my suit.” A muscle quivered in his clenched jaw.
Too bad her mother couldn’t marry the duke. They would make a perfect couple. She laughed through her tears at this thought.
The duke’s shoulders relaxed. “Take the ring, Evangeline, and let the matter be settled.” He held it out to her again.
Slowly, she took the diamond and slid it onto her finger.
The duke jumped up. “Huzzah!” He quit the room abruptly.
A moment later, her mother’s squeal of delight echoed in the hall outside, deepening the emptiness in Lindy’s heart.
Chapter 38
Lindy rose early the next morning and rang for Adele, the new French maid who had replaced Claudine.
Did Mama go out of her way to choose the surliest maid available?
Adele hadn’t a sympathetic bone in her body, and her lips pressed constantly into a prim line, which twisted slightly when Lindy chose an outfit, managing to convey disapproval without a spoken word.
Uncle Henry and her new cousin, Emma, were to arrive at Seaside today for a short visit before Christmas. Maybe getting to know Emma will help keep my thoughts off Jack.
Now she waited inside the marble foyer of the mansion, with Papa, Mama, and the duke, to receive them. Percy and the rest of the staff stood behind them.
The front doors opened, and Uncle Henry walked in on a swirl of snowflakes, holding the arm of a pale, blond beauty with deep hazel eyes and erect posture.
Papa stepped forward and shook Uncle Henry’s hand. His hair and mustache had turned completely to silver since Lindy had seen him last. “Welcome, dear brother.” Then Papa turned to Emma. “Welcome to the family, my dear.” He kissed her on both cheeks. “I’m sorry for the loss of your father. I hope we shall have a merry time getting to know you.”
Mama smiled, her sharp gaze missing nothing about Emma’s elegant traveling suit, her boots, and accessories. “Welcome to Seaside.”
“Thank you, Aunt Vera.” Emma extended her hand, and after a surprised pause, Mama took it, looking even more startled when Emma proceeded to shake it vigorously. “Thank you for inviting us.”
Lindy stepped forward. “Hello, Emma. I’m Lindy.”
“Evangeline,” corrected her mother in a stern voice.
Emma’s eyes widened a fraction. “Nice to meet you, Lindy.” A spark of amusement flared under her words, and her eyebrow quirked a smidge as if she’d already taken Mama’s measure and found it wanting.
Mama stiffened next to Lindy, who repressed a smile, liking Emma immediately.
Papa drew the duke forward. “Please allow me to introduce our honored guest the ninth Duke of Hampshire, James Alexander Bentley. Our daughter’s fiancé.”
The duke bowed and kissed Emma’s gloved hand.
“I’m sure you both must be tired from your journey.” Mama smiled and waved her hand toward the staircase. “I will show you to your rooms.”
“Oh, let me take Emma, Mother.” Without waiting for an answer, Lindy drew Emma away and ushered her forward. “Right this way.”
Emma had the guestroom next to Lindy’s, decorated to the hilt of course, with blue-brocaded walls and gold touches in the drapes and bed coverlet. The best feature of the room was the tall windows that opened to the sea, the same as Lindy’s adjoining room.
“How lovely.” Emma removed her hat and admired the view, then leaned forward to examine the window. “Might I open this?”
“Certainly. Let me call one of the maids.”
“Oh, please don’t bother. I can see how it opens it right here.” Emma released the sash lock and pushed up the window. Salt-scented air swept through the room. “I do so love fresh air.”
“You are quite self-reliant, Emma, I see.”
Emma turned and studied Lindy. “I’ve had to be,” she said quietly. Some of the light in her eyes dimmed. “My mother died when I was eight, and my father...” She sighed and gazed out the window. “He didn’t know how to live after she passed away. Much less raise a daughter.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She smiled then. “I came to enjoy my freedom and independence. Compared to some of my friends, whose parents ascribed to a more conventional bringing up for a girl, I was allowed to come and go as I pleased and read whatever I desired to.” She laughed. “After the cooking, the dishes, and the laundry were done, of course. I started keeping house immediately after my mother’s death.”
“My goodness, you had to grow up so fast. I’m sure it must have seemed strange, leaving one life and entering another.”
“Oh yes. Just like Cinderella. Only in this case, Uncle Henry is the fairy godfather. Or would be, if I allowed him.”
“Indeed? What do you mean?”
“Oh, Uncle Henry had plans for me when I first arrived, to introduce me to society and find a husband.” She covered her mouth with her hand to hide a yawn. “Excuse me.”
“Dear me, I’m so sorry.” Lindy moved toward the door. “You need to rest after your journey, and I’m keeping you from it. I would like to learn about your life before Uncle Henry and Wasahana if you feel inclined to share it. And please don’t hesitate to ask me if you need anything. I’m afraid there are going to be some rather stuffy events occurring while you are here. Balls and dinner parties and such.”
“Thank you.” Emma smiled. “You’re very kind.”
A gentle knock sounded at the door.
“Come,” said Emma.
Percy entered the room, followed by several manservants with Emma’s luggage. After they left, Emma moved to a small satchel, removed three leather-covered volumes, and placed them on the nightstand.
She likes to read.
Lindy
couldn’t stop herself from walking over to look at the books.
The Country of the Pointed Firs, The Red Badge of Courage, and The Island of Dr. Moreau.
“Are you reading all of these?”
“Just Dr. Moreau. I’m making notes on the other two.”
“Indeed? I haven’t yet read anything by Wells. Is it interesting?”
“I don’t quite know what to make of it yet. It’s certainly different.” Emma pulled out a few more books and piled them on the nightstand. “Nothing like Little Women or this, my particular favorite.” She held up a well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice.
Delight percolated through Lindy. “My goodness, I think we’re kindred spirits, Emma. I see you love to read, and so do I.”
Emma smiled. “I grew up with a father who loved to read and discuss ideas, and he encouraged me in that direction.” Her smile faded. “Although my outspokenness has at times caused some—difficulties—adjusting to my new life.”
“I can understand that. For different reasons than yours, I often feel I don’t fit in either.” Lindy grimaced. “If my mother had her way, I’d never read a book again.”
“How dreadful.” Emma hesitated. “Your mother is quite—impressive.”
“Domineering, you mean? Yes, she is. But somehow, I distinctly get the impression she won’t be dominating you, although I’m sure she’ll do her best to try.” Good gracious, what am I saying? “Oh, please forget I said that. I didn’t mean—”
“Quite all right.” Emma smiled. “I’ve already perceived that your mother is something of a martinet.”
Lindy’s shoulders relaxed. “Exactly right.”
“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
Emma certainly looked full of self-confidence. “Perhaps I will learn something from you then.”
“Why do I have the feeling there’s more to that than you’re letting on?” Emma cocked her head to one side. “Have you had difficulties with your mother?”
More than you could ever imagine. Lindy nodded slowly. “Perhaps when we exchange our histories, I will tell you. But right now, I’m sure you’d like to call for your maid and rest. I will see you at dinner this evening.”