The House of Secrets

by Elizabeth Blackwell

  She had admitted the truth to herself only recently. The more time Evelyn spent with him, the more she longed for him. His humor cut through the stuffiness of local dinner parties and she often had to press a napkin to her face to hide her laughter. During their lunches together in Baltimore, he spoke to her honestly, admitting his uncertainty about the future. If Evelyn had initially been attracted to Will’s exuberance, it was these quieter conversations that won her heart. She could find a cad charming, but this man who bared his soul to her was no cad. Quite the opposite.

  Chatting pleasantly over Sunday dinners at Alma’s, they could have been any brother-and sister-in-law enjoying each other’s company. But secretly, Evelyn’s feelings had intensified from friendship to desire. When Will pressed his lips against her hand as he said goodbye, she imagined herself kissing him back. With Will, she wasn’t nervous young Mrs. Brewster. She was Evelyn O’Keefe again, a confident woman who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind.

  Evelyn felt as though she were staring over the edge of a cliff. Unspoken signals flashed between her and Will when they were alone, pauses in the conversation when each waited for the other to acknowledge what was happening. In such moments, she longed for him to say he loved her. And she hoped just as desperately that he wouldn’t, because she wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to turn him away.

  Evelyn also knew Alma—ever vigilant of the family’s reputation—couldn’t possibly have missed the sparks. Sure enough, after dinner one Sunday, Alma drew her aside as they walked to the drawing room. Peering at Evelyn’s midsection, she asked, “Any news?”

  Evelyn stared at her in disbelief.

  “A grandchild?” Alma whispered, clearly annoyed by Evelyn’s reticence. Evelyn shook her head.

  “I would have expected something after this long.”

  Evelyn couldn’t look directly at Alma. She glanced around to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. Charles stood in front of the fireplace on the other side of the room, lecturing Winslow and Will. Lavinia was neatening one of her daughter’s braids as Beatrice struggled to escape.

  “Perhaps,” Alma said coolly, “if you favored your husband with the attention you give others so readily.”

  “I wish for a child as much as you do,” Evelyn protested.

  “You must do more than wish, my dear,” Alma said. “The fate of the family rests on your shoulders now. It’s a heavy responsibility and one I sympathize with.” Alma’s eyes looked past Evelyn toward Charles, and her tone softened. “Once you have children, everything becomes more secure.”

  For a moment, Evelyn pictured Alma as a young bride, as bewildered by the Brewsters as Evelyn was now. Had Alma also felt crushed by the weight of family expectations?

  If she had, there was no trace of it now. Alma nudged Evelyn toward Charles, giving her a meaningful look. The message was unmistakable. Evelyn must lure Charles into producing an heir.

  That night, Charles ignored Evelyn’s timid hints and fell asleep without touching her. As Evelyn lay in bed, reliving a moment earlier that evening when Will’s hand had brushed hers, she realized the foolishness of her fantasies. She must put aside her daydreams and do whatever necessary to recapture her husband’s interest. Once they had a child, her life would have purpose, and Will would fade into the background. She had first attracted Charles by challenging him. Perhaps she could do so again.

  The next morning she awoke alone and determined to seduce her husband. She spent the afternoon tending to herself in a way she never had before: soaking in a hot bath, spraying on the French perfume Lavinia had given her as a wedding present, allowing her hair to fall over her shoulders. When Charles strode through the front door, she was there to greet him with a kiss.

  “What’s that smell?” he asked.

  “It’s called Air de Joie. A gift from your sister.”

  “Rather cloying,” Charles said. “More suited to a French courtesan than Lavinia.”

  Evelyn was taken aback, but she smiled and said lightly, “And what do you know of French courtesans?”

  Charles wrapped one arm around her waist. “Trying to catch me out, are you?” A flash of attraction ignited between them. Perhaps there was hope after all.

  Throughout dinner, Evelyn did her best to charm him. She treated Charles like a fascinating dinner-party guest, leaning toward him and smiling encouragingly. Charles relaxed in the warmth of her admiration. Once, he even reached across the table to stroke her hair.

  “You should wear it down more often,” he said. “But only for me.” His fingers moved down along the curve of her cheek.

  “No coffee this evening,” she told Peggy as the maid came in to clear the plates.

  “Yes, Mrs. Brewster.” Peggy offered an awkward curtsy before leaving the room. No matter how many times Evelyn told her it wasn’t necessary, Peggy insisted on treating her employers as if they were royalty.

  “Are we retiring for the night already?” Charles asked.

  “I thought we might find something to occupy us upstairs,” Evelyn said, lowering her eyes modestly.

  “Are you trying to have your way with me, wife?”

  Evelyn couldn’t tell if Charles was flirting or making fun of her. Perhaps both.

  “Tell me,” he continued, lowering his voice almost to a purr. “What do you have planned?”

  Too embarrassed to say the words, Evelyn sat silently, waiting for Charles to take the lead, as he always did.

  Charles smiled with a mixture of amusement and cruelty. “How disappointing. I had hoped to hear something scandalous. Or are you playing the woman of mystery?”

  “Is it such a mystery why a wife would wish to have relations with her husband?” Evelyn asked.

  “Don’t fret, Mrs. Brewster,” he said, chucking her under the chin as if she were a child. “I will do my duty. I suppose Mother has been hounding you for a grandson?”

  Again Evelyn said nothing, but she knew the expression on her face confirmed his suspicions.

  “I applaud your effort,” Charles said. “However, let’s not make a habit of such behavior, shall we? In any marriage, a husband must guide his wife, not the other way around. In fact, it can be quite unmanning for a husband to be at the beck and call of his wife’s urges.”

  “It was not meant as an insult,” Evelyn murmured.

  “Then I forgive you,” Charles said. “In any case, I have plans this evening with Jack Beltrain. A gentlemen’s card party, which I expect will go quite late. I may even stay the night, so don’t bother waiting up. Now, go wash yourself off,” he ordered. “The reek of that perfume will infect the whole house.”

  He brushed past her, gathered his hat and coat from the hallway and slammed the front door behind him. Evelyn sat at the table until he was gone, then made her way slowly up the stairs. She went first to her bathroom, where she splashed water over her face again and again, allowing the cold to numb her. Then she dried off and stared at her face in the mirror. Her skin was pale, and her eyes were bloodshot with unshed tears.

  Desperate for fresh air, she threw open the French doors in the bedroom and stepped out onto the balcony. It was already dark, a sign that winter was on its way. She looked toward the main house and saw lights glimmering faintly in the distance. She wondered if Will and Alma were still at supper. Alma was probably lecturing him, as she so often did. Evelyn pictured Will’s face at once amused and annoyed. She could imagine him turning to her and rolling his eyes, if she were there, next to him.

  As Evelyn stared into the darkness, toward the faraway house, a movement in the field at the edge of the garden caught her eye. As if her thoughts had called him to her, Will appeared, walking through the tall grass. She lifted her hand in greeting, and he quickened his pace. She watched him disappear between the hedges bordering the garden and waited until he emerged onto the patio below her.

  “You look like Juliet,” Will said, “calling to Romeo from her balcony.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. Then, rem
embering Peggy and Mrs. Gower washing up in the kitchen not far away, she put a finger to her lips. “Hush,” she whispered. “I’ll come down.”

  She went back into the bedroom and pulled a shawl over her shoulders. Tiptoeing along the hallway, she went quietly down the stairs. She could hear the faint echo of voices from the kitchen and was very careful not to make a sound as she crossed the parlor and conservatory. She carefully pushed open the back door and stepped out onto the patio. Will stood against a tree, the shadows hiding him from the kitchen windows.

  “Come,” he whispered, holding out his hand. Evelyn followed him along the gravel walkway through an opening in the hedges, into a secluded garden room, where a stone bench sat under a maple tree. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and pulled her down next to him on the bench. She expected him to release her once she was seated, but his arm remained, balanced lightly where it was.

  He waited, as if by taking hold of her he had gone as far as he could. The rest was up to Evelyn.

  “What were you doing out there in the field?” she asked.

  “I had to escape,” Will said. “Mother was unbearable tonight.”

  Evelyn remembered her mother-in-law’s urging to have a child. She knew only too well the agonizing pressure of Alma’s disapproval.

  “I don’t envy you, living with her,” she said. Leaning in toward him would be so easy. Just a few inches and she would be in his embrace. But those few inches would change her life.

  “And you?” Will asked quietly. “What brought you out to the balcony?”

  There were so many things she could have said. Ways she could have politely deflected the conversation. But sitting next to Will, in the intimate silence of the garden, she could only speak the truth.

  “Charles has been lacking in his attentions.” Evelyn looked down so she wouldn’t have to meet Will’s eyes as she revealed her humiliation. “That is to say, his marital duties.”

  Will said nothing.

  “I can’t help but wonder—oh, it’s silly, really. You’ll think me such a fool.”

  “I promise I won’t,” Will said.

  “It makes me wonder if he’s been unfaithful.” She turned to face him now. Will didn’t look shocked. Only sad.

  The unspoken confirmation brought the full power of Charles’s betrayal crashing down. Evelyn clenched her eyes shut as her body shook with suppressed sobs.

  “I’m sorry,” she stammered, wiping her face with the edge of her shawl. The words tumbled out. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but marriage isn’t what I imagined. I’ve tried so hard to be a good wife. Tonight, I did my best to make him happy, but it wasn’t enough. He mocked me and left, and I faced another night alone, and I came outside, because of you. I know it’s ridiculous, but looking at your house and thinking of you comforted me.”

  It was done. She’d told the truth. If Will chose, he could make excuses for his brother, offer the conventional reassurances. He could extricate himself with a minimum of embarrassment.

  Instead, Will turned toward her and took her hands in his.

  “You asked before why I was walking in the fields,” he said. “The truth is that I wanted to be closer to you.”

  Evelyn’s body tingled as she grasped the meaning of his words.

  “I was torturing myself, to be honest,” he continued. “I watched the lights come on in your window, and I imagined what Charles might be doing to you. My brother, who doesn’t deserve you. I had resolved to turn back when you came outside. Even from that distance, I could see you were upset. I had to make sure you were all right.”

  Evelyn couldn’t move. She sat completely still, rigid as the stone bench, as Will moved his hands to her face. He kissed her, softly, gently, sending a burst of warmth through her body.

  The only other man who had ever kissed her was Charles, with a force she’d mistaken for passion. Now, as Will’s lips caressed her face, she felt as if she were floating, her senses both soothed and heightened. She returned his kiss, wrapping her arms around his body. His back and shoulders were solid, something she could cling to to keep from going under. Here, in his arms, she could escape.

  Suddenly, she stopped. This was madness, not escape. Kissing Will made her no better than Charles. In fact, she was worse, because everyone knew a husband was allowed to be discreetly unfaithful, but adultery in a wife was unforgivable. If she distanced herself from Will now, before things went too far, they could still remain friends. She needed his friendship more than anything else.

  “I’m sorry,” Evelyn stammered, releasing Will and tucking her arms tightly inside her shawl. “I don’t want you to think—”

  “Not at all,” Will said, his tone colder, suddenly formal. “Please, no apologies. I took advantage of your distress. I am a cad, madam, as you have no doubt been told. I beg a thousand pardons.”

  His exaggerated formality made her laugh in spite of her embarrassment. She looked at him and was relieved to see him smile back at her.

  “If things had been different,” Evelyn said wistfully. “If we’d met under other circumstances…”

  “I wish I had returned from Europe sooner,” he said, suddenly serious. “I wish I’d met you before Charles did.”

  Evelyn nodded. “So do I.”

  “Well, then, we’ve had our bout of self-pity,” Will said, shaking his head as if to rouse himself from a dream. “Your position is far more precarious than mine. I’m sorry if I’ve made things difficult for you.”

  “It was as much my fault as yours,” Evelyn said. She longed to touch him again, but she kept her hands in her lap.

  “I hope you’ll still think of me as someone with your best interests at heart,” Will said. “Someone who cares for you.”

  “Yes,” Evelyn said. “As I care for you.”

  “I know.” They looked at each other silently, acknowledging all that could have been between them.

  “I should go,” Evelyn said finally, rising from the bench. If she continued to sit beside him, she might do something she’d regret.

  Will stood beside her. “One thing…” He paused, considering his words carefully.

  “My brother has a temper,” he continued. “Should you ever run into trouble, I hope you’ll confide in me. We may not have opportunities to talk alone, like this, but if there’s something you need to tell me, leave a note. Here, under the bench. I can come by at night without being seen.”

  “So it appears,” Evelyn said with a smile.

  Will touched her cheek lightly. “I do worry about you.”

  “It will all work out,” Evelyn said, trying to feign a confidence she didn’t feel. Will reached out and embraced her one last time, then turned and walked away. Even though she ached to run after him, Evelyn held firm. The next time she saw him, they would be surrounded by family at Alma’s Sunday dinner. She would be seated next to her husband, a proper wife in her proper place. Will would simply be her brother-in-law. But now, as she wandered back to her room and changed into her nightclothes, all she could imagine was walking up the stairs, into her bedroom, with Will. She lay alone in bed chasing sleep, remembering the feel of his kisses. Tomorrow, she vowed, she would shut the door on those memories forever.

  BUT THE FEELINGS that had been stirred up couldn’t be tamed so easily. The next Sunday, dinner at Alma’s was more difficult than ever. Charles sat next to her, barely acknowledging her presence. Across the table was Will, making his usual joking remarks. Evelyn struggled to match his light tone. She looked at his hands and remembered the feel of them on her face. She wanted to reach across the table and pull him away, out of the house, toward his motorcar. They could drive off together and disappear.

  “Evelyn?”

  She turned toward Alma, belatedly aware that her mother-in-law had asked her a question.

  “I asked if you were feeling well?” Alma repeated.

  “Yes, Mother,” Evelyn said. “A bit tired, I suppose.”

  Alma continued to look at her
appraisingly throughout dinner. After the meal, Alma pulled Lavinia aside. The two women huddled together, glancing at Evelyn from time to time. Evelyn made a point of ignoring Will as the family gathered for coffee in the parlor. She sat next to Charles and tried to appear interested as he ranted to Winslow about railroad company corruption. Will read stories to Beatrice on the other side of the room.

  “I do hope we’ll see you at our meeting tomorrow,” Lavinia said to Evelyn as she and Charles prepared to leave.

  “Of course,” Evelyn said. She thanked Alma and gave Beatrice a kiss, but avoided Will on her way out. What could she possibly say to him?

  Evelyn had originally had high hopes when Lavinia invited her to join her literature club, but the meeting the next day was as disappointing as ever. Evelyn had assumed the monthly gatherings would foster the sort of lively discussions she’d enjoyed in college. Instead, she found that the club members—all young married women—discussed books for no more than ten minutes, before spending the rest of the morning trading gossip. Evelyn had spent an excruciating length of time pretending to be interested in one woman’s complaints about her maid when she heard Lavinia call out something about Will.

  “Pardon me?” Evelyn asked.

  “Is Will still driving you to town in that ghastly motorcar?”

  “Occasionally,” Evelyn said. “He’s been very helpful with the house.”

  “Really?” Lavinia asked with overacted surprise. “I’d be careful, if I were you.”

  Why would Lavinia be warning her about Will? Panicked, Evelyn wondered what her sister-in-law knew.

  “Careful?” Evelyn asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

  “Those cars can be dangerous. Mr. Hadley, Emily’s father, broke his leg riding in one just the other day. Honestly, I don’t know why Will insists on traveling that way. It makes him look…” She paused and pursed her lips. “Disreputable.”