I will say it straight out. It is my deepest wish that you will agree to be my wife. I have reconciled my understanding that the family, my father in particular, will put me out and perhaps never have anything to do with me, or us, ever again.
I do, however, believe, dear Maisie, that it is my destiny to be with you. To say goodbye to my family with the assurance that you will forever be by my side is worth the great price.
Please say that you will consider my request.
With all my love,
James
Maisie had found the letter under her door on her return the previous evening. It was shockingly wonderful and horrible all at the same time. As she read it, she felt her heart soar among the stars, but soon came the crushing realization that it was truly impossible. She had become a prisoner in her own lie.
Under the glaring light of truth, she saw the depths of her naiveté and recognized the terrible and unforgivable sin she had committed, not only in lying about who she was, but in leading this dear man to fall in love with her as she had most certainly fallen in love with him. What game did she think she was playing? All that she had thought of in recent years was that it was wonderfully romantic to think of James, and to encourage him to think of her. Now she saw how terribly unfair that was.
How had she come to live two lives? She was a goose masquerading as a canary, a goose that belonged with her own kind. She came from stable, reliable unchanging people who for thousands of years had clung solidly to their complex identity as Jews, even in the face of great oppression. Hers were a people burdened with reason, living largely through instinct. Such is the path of the Jews.
Dreaming of a life with James could have gone on forever. She had barely turned nineteen, and with James just twenty-two, she had blindly thought that she would have several years ahead of romantic daydreams around the unreachable young Mr. James, now Dr. Willows.
Now, in suddenly bringing her dreams into the open, and truly granting her wish for romance, she would set off a chain of events that would cause great pain and irrevocable harm to many relationships.
Her only possible course of action would be to set him free. She would have to tell him good-bye. She held herself and slumped achingly against the decision, believing her heart would surely break. Then she gathered herself and wrote the letter.
March 26, 1905
Dear Mr. James,
It is with great sadness and deepest regret that I must tell you that I cannot accept your proposal. Please do not ask me to explain any further than to tell you that I recognize this is an impossible situation with the potential of too much pain for you and also for your dear family. I shall greatly miss our friendship.
I do wish to stay on at Ravenscraig, but I will understand if you ask me to resign my post.
Sincerely,
Maisie Rosedale
Chapter Forty-Five
Elliot’s Return
May 21, 1905
The dew was barely off the lawn when Maisie stooped to gather the bundle of lilacs and breathed in their sweet scent. The entire perimeter of Ravenscraig was lined in the fragrant spring blooms and the early morning air was filled with their alluring aroma. Mrs. Willows had announced that as Alfred’s fiancée, Lily Quartermain, would be joining them for Sunday dinner, they would be having a bit of a celebration of their engagement, and she had asked Maisie to fill every vase in the dining room with the pink and lavender blossoms.
Maisie was glad to be outdoors working with the flowers. In recent weeks, she took special care to notice and appreciate those things that she loved most, as a means of wrenching her aching heart free from thoughts of James.
He had not taken her letter well. He remained polite, but had immediately placed a distance between them. She had hardly spoken with him in weeks. He left the house a good deal, having increased his desire for social activities, it appeared. When at home, he stayed behind closed doors. The thought that he had so quickly severed their relationship stung. As much as it hurt, it was for the best, and she would move on with her life as James had. No one in the house asked for her resignation and she never offered it.
She had found a parting gift, or what she had assumed was a parting gift on her return to Ravenscraig the previous weekend. Stacked on the floor next to her door were fifteen medical textbooks.
Dear Miss Rosedale,
I hope you find many years of pleasure from your studies. Please accept these books as a token of my gratitude for the many good things you have contributed to life in Ravenscraig.
With sincere good wishes for your future, I remain,
Yours truly,
James Willows
Though pained by the shift in their communication, and the loss of their study sessions, she was, in fact, relieved. As each day passed, her heartbreak had lessened. She worked to regain a sunny outlook and to focus on her dream of attending university. It was only right that James should stay with his own kind. Even so, she couldn’t help but find it irksome that he appeared to be rather popular with the daughters of the captains of industry in Winnipeg. There was no shortage of young women vying for the attention of the quiet young doctor. He had joined the practice of Dr. Carruthers, and from all reports he was very well thought of.
It was also obvious that the twittering matrons who came to tea at Ravenscraig were competing for match-making opportunities. As a result, Maisie had had to steel herself against the frequent appearance of adoring young women seated next to James at the family dinner table. Tonight would be no exception. Well, be that as it may, there was nothing to do but shift her own attitude and take firm steps toward her own future. With pragmatism taking hold, she admonished herself, and forced her brain to accept that James had been a dream, a young girl’s fantasy. Mr. James could go on and have all of the brainless beauties he desired. She would find her own romance one day. Someone of her own type, whatever that might end up being.
She buried her nose in the sweet-scented lilacs. Today was a new day. There were flowers to arrange and pastries to bake. Mrs. Willows had developed a special fondness for elaborate French desserts on her trip to Palm Beach and Mrs. Butterfield would be needing help with today’s experimental creation.
Her arms full of flowers, Maisie stepped carefully along the path to the kitchen service door. The sun shone in her eyes as she rounded the corner. A man in a cap was waiting for her, and she assumed he was delivering something to the kitchen. But on Sunday? She ducked behind the flowers to shield her eyes from the sun. “Good morning,” she called out.
“Please, allow me, Mademoiselle, to help you with those flowers.”
“Mr. Elliot!” she gasped then quickly dropped her voice to a whisper, “I mean, good morning, Chef La Chance. What a wonderful surprise!”
“So good to see you, Maisie.”
“But why are you coming in the servants’ entrance?”
“Shh!” He put his fingers to his lips. “I’m so glad I saw you before I knocked on the kitchen door. I need your help with managing my surprise return.”
With his engaging smile and the confidence of a champion, it was clear life had treated Elliot Willows well; he was returning to Ravenscraig in triumph. She was deeply pleased for his obvious success.
“Of course, I’ll help you.”
“You did me a great service in protecting me, Maisie. I will never forget your kindness and your trustworthiness.”
Trust. She felt as though she’d been stabbed in the heart. If only he knew.
“Mr. Elliot, please. It was my pleasure to help. Where is your luggage?”
“I stayed at the Leland Hotel last night so that I could arrive in secret. I’ve asked Henry to go round and collect my things later.”
“So no one in the house knows you are in Winnipeg?”
“That’s right. I’ve come home on a special mission, Maisie. I told you I would share my secret with my parents when the time was right, and now is that time. I have so many opportunities in New York that I’m ti
red of the burden of carrying my secret life. I want to come clean with my family and see if I can bring them on side. You can’t imagine how hard it is to live two lives.”
“I can well appreciate how complicated it has been. I am so happy for you, Mr. Elliot.” Maisie fought to keep her envy in check.
“Thank you. I have a plan and I do think it will be good fun in the end. I need you to find Mrs. Butterfield so I can speak to you both at the same time about the details of my scheme. Please, do not tell anyone else that I am here.”
“Of course, but Emma, I mean, Miss Emma, will be heartbroken to have to wait to see you,” Maisie cautioned.
“She’ll be fine,” he insisted. “Trust me. Everything will work out splendidly. When you go inside, I’m going to slip in after you, and I’ll hide in the pantry. I’ll wait there for you to come back with Mrs. Butterfield.”
Maisie was delighted. What an exciting day was in store.
Chadwick was deep into his sheaf of notes as he strode into the dining room to hand Maisie a ruler, barely glancing at her.
“Be sure your place settings are precisely balanced. It will be of utmost importance to Mrs. Willows that Miss Lily Quartermain is impressed by our dinner service tonight. She is very anxious to set the correct tone with Mr. Alfred’s fiancée, and we mustn’t disappoint. I am confident that Miss Quartermain is well accustomed to the ways of the proper houses in England, and our service at Ravenscraig mustn’t be seen to be anything but of the very highest caliber.”
“Yes, Mr. Chadwick.”
Maisie placed the ruler next to a water goblet and nudged it over a tiny bit so that it would be placed exactly the right distance from a wine glass. She had spent two hours setting the table and decorating the dining room. Another hour to make the final adjustments to the table and she would be done.
“I see we have a guest by the name of Miss Hawkesford joining the family for dinner this evening,” the butler read the neatly written notes. “Yes, Miss Priscilla Hawkesford, guest of Mr. James.” His eyebrows went up with what Maisie read as disapproval. Whatever he knew of Miss Hawkesford, it was clear he was unimpressed by the name.
“Stop! Oh, stop the presses!” Mrs. Willows was laughing and calling from the hallway as she all but danced into the room. “Set another place, Mr. Chadwick! Oh, this is so terribly exciting!”
“Yes, Madam. Will Miss Emma also be having a guest join her?”
“No. I will have a guest and I cannot tell you who it is. Just make sure we have the table set for eight and not seven. This is a very special guest, indeed, Mr. Chadwick!” She flitted out of the room calling out to Mrs. Butterfield.
Chadwick turned to the table; before he could form a sentence he saw that eight places had already been set. He looked sternly at Maisie, who smiled back sweetly.
His jaw clenched. How was it possible that he would be the last to know of a surprise! He swiveled on his heel in a military about face and marched off.
Elliot held the flowers behind his back and knocked a little rhythm on Emma’s door. At first there was no response. He tapped out the rhythm again. Then there was a quick pattern of knocks that harkened back to an old game Elliot had created with Emma when she was a toddler.
“Elliot?” She called from behind the door and a mere second later, the door flew open, and she launched herself into his arms. “I can’t believe it is you. It has been so very long! Look how tall you are! My goodness, you’re a grown man, Elliot!” Tears sprang into Emma’s eyes as she regarded her brother before her.
“Emma, darling little sister, look at what a beauty you’ve become! You must come to Paris with me and allow me to show you the Champs Élysées and take you to the fine fashion houses!”
“When did you get here?” she demanded.
“Shh. We must be quiet. Just a few hours ago,” he answered with his finger to his lips. “I’ve been cooking up a surprise for the family, you might say.”
“I’ll say you have. Who knows you are here?”
“Everyone, except Father.”
“Oy.”
“Oy?” He laughed heartily. “What is oy?”
“Oh, something I read in one of those novels Mother would never approve of. Oh, Elliot, you look just wonderful. How are you?”
“I am so happy, I could burst, Emma. Truly, I am.”
“Shh!” she whispered. “Mr. Chadwick is probably hiding behind the curtains. Let’s talk in the sun room.” She closed the door, and they sat comfortably at the window seat overlooking the river.
“Emma, I can’t tell you how tremendously gratifying it is to be doing the kind of work for which I am suited. People have been so kind to praise my creations.”
“How did things go for you in Florida?” She asked, soaking up the pleasure of hearing his voice.
“Splendidly. Maisie was a terrific help. We had a wonderful chat about you. She absolutely adores you. She would do anything for you, you realize,” Elliot said seriously, wanting his sister to appreciate the maid’s devotion to the family.
“Elliot,” Emma said, equally seriously. “Then you are not cross with me for having told Maisie the contents of your letter?”
“Under the circumstances, of course not! What choice did you have?” he pulled her into a hug. “Emma, the world is changing. I can’t tell you how happy I am to have taken the path that I have. I will be announcing the details of my culinary career at dinner tonight.”
“Elliot!”
“Don’t worry. You’ll see it will be fine. And if need be, I must tell you that I am fully prepared to face the wrath of our parents, Father in particular, as I really don’t see how Mother will be that difficult.”
“Mother will be fine with your news. She has developed a different perspective on things since her struggle with typhoid.”
“Typhoid?” Elliot’s face went pale. Emma clapped her hand over her mouth and stared back with wide eyes.
“Did you say typhoid?” He asked again.
“Yes,” Emma nodded. “Elliot, Maisie saved her life. Mother insisted we keep the news from you because she didn’t want you to worry.”
The two settled into a deep conversation about their mother’s triumph over her illness and then fell to catching up with the details of their lives, thoroughly happy to be together again. All the while, downstairs in the kitchen, Mrs. Butterfield huffed and puffed, complaining loudly as she did her best to follow Elliot’s detailed instructions for the dessert she was preparing.
“A toast.” A beaming Rupert looked around the table. “A toast to my dear children and our lovely guests. Elliot, your mother and I couldn’t be happier with your surprising us. Welcome home. And of course, a very special welcome this evening to our future daughter-in-law, Lily.” He smiled at Beth as he raised his glass. “Having all of you join us at the dinner table tonight is a great joy for both of us. To the happiness of Alfred and Lily!”
An enthusiastic round of “Cheers” met his toast and the family fell into chatter as Mr. Chadwick and Lizzie efficiently served the dinner, while Maisie tended to the beverages.
Rupert was in exceptionally good humor.
“Lily, as you can see, one never knows what is happening next in this family. Elliot, it is truly wonderful to have you here, all the way from Paris. I want to hear all about your work at the Beaux Arts.”
“I will be happy to tell you all about my life, Father, but it would be such a bore for everyone, especially Miss Quartermain and Miss Hawkesford, who might find all of this talk of business rather dull.”
“Well, yes, quite,” Rupert agreed with obvious reluctance. “Well, then, after dinner you can tell me all of your plans over brandy and cigars in the library. Ladies, you must excuse my impatience and boorish behavior. Elliot has shared with us virtually nothing of his work at the Beaux Arts, and we are very anxious, indeed, to welcome our own architect to Willows and Sons, aren’t we Alfred?”
“We are, of course,” Alfred smiled and looked to Lily. “You must pa
rdon my distraction, Elliot. It is difficult to think of business when a beautiful woman has agreed to become one’s wife. With the wedding just a month away, I’m afraid we’ve been rather preoccupied with our plans.”
“I’m glad I’ll be home for the wedding. It’s obvious that Miss Quartermain brings out the best in you,” he teased. “Welcome to the family, Lily.” Elliot raised his glass.
“Well, while all this happiness and good cheer is being launched, I’d like to make an announcement myself,” said James with a shy smile.
“You’ve decided to drop your medical career and join us at Willows and Sons!” Rupert interrupted.
Everyone laughed as James shook his head. “No, but I must tell you that this family is expanding more quickly than you thought. He stood and raised his glass. “I’m proud to announce that I have asked Miss Priscilla Hawkesford if she would do me the honor of giving me her hand in marriage, and she has agreed.”
Beth’s eyes flashed. Applause swept the table, followed by polite words of congratulations.
“Oh, my, this has been a day of surprises and good news,” Beth pulled her fan out and fluttered it over her rising bosom as her breath quickened.
Maisie felt faint. She avoided James’ eyes and went about her duties while he discussed their plans. Not only were they marrying, they were moving away. Returning to the butler’s pantry, Maisie grasped the edge of the service bar to steady herself. She didn’t notice at first that Mr. Chadwick had come up behind her.
“Are you not well?” he asked sympathetically.
“No, not really. I may have caught a bit of a chill,” she offered weakly.
The business between Mr. James and Maisie was something Chadwick did know about, as he had hidden within earshot of their study meetings for several months. As a result, he knew far more about scarlet fever than he ever intended, but he could also plainly see the deep and honest affection between the maid and the master’s son. He felt quite disappointed for Maisie and even more disappointed that this source of amusement had suddenly disappeared. That being the case, he also admitted to himself that he felt generally restored by the revelation that he was in on a secret most of the household knew nothing about.
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