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Reforming Elizabeth

Page 21

by Lorin Grace


  “I am sorry.” Elizabeth shook the can to get out the last drops.

  “It is not your fault. I think he just can’t stand renting to someone who bested him at fisticuffs.”

  Elizabeth gave a wan smile. “Is there any other place?”

  “There is one other building that would do. The truth is that it’s better suited to a shoe shop. But I still have not heard from the Curtis family who owns it. His brother assures me he will let it to me.”

  “So you will not move north and go work with your brother?”

  “No. I promised I would stay here for Mina as long as she needs me. And, to be honest, my brother married Ruth’s sister. I don’t know if I would like living near them.”

  “Her sister?”

  “Yes. I told you it was a good family.” He smiled. “Losing Ruth doesn’t hurt the way it once did, but living under the same roof as her sister would dredge up painful memories I no longer wish to feel.”

  Elizabeth nodded. She knew what it felt like to be near someone who reminded you of all you could not have. “I wish you the best with your meeting.”

  “Can you do the chores tonight and in the morning? I should be back by tomorrow evening, or I can get the Purdy boys to come. “

  “Yes, but if I need help, I will ask the Purdys.”

  “Until tomorrow, then.” Gideon settled his hat on his head and left with a nod.

  It made no sense that Reverend Ingram insisted he come to Boston. A sense of foreboding had plagued Gideon since reading the letter three hours ago. Had Reverend Porter written of his impending nuptials? Should he tell the reverend the truth and risk the challenge to the intentions?

  As Gideon headed north on Jordan, a familiar carriage passed him, but he could not place it. However, near the outskirts of Boston, he placed it as the carriage that had deposited Elizabeth at Mina’s doorstep all those months ago.

  Mina instructed Elizabeth on how to stretch the linen over the mowed grass. “Keep it damp. Check on it several times a day and use the watering can. If it looks like rain …”

  Elizabeth smiled. It was the third time her aunt had repeated the instructions.

  Mina surveyed her niece’s work. “I’m pleased. I never would have thought you could do this job when you first came. What are you going to do with the unbleached portion?”

  Elizabeth straightened a corner of the cloth. “I thought to embroider table linens. I have a friend I owe a wedding gift.”

  “What of your own table?”

  Elizabeth shrugged. “I don’t know that I shall ever need them. I do not wish to return home after my year is over, and who would have me after all is done?”

  Mina harrumphed.

  A carriage pulled into the side yard, interrupting their conversation.

  Elizabeth blanched and dropped the pail full of sour milk.

  Father.

  “What is that horrendous smell?” Ebenezer put his handkerchief to his nose. What mess had his daughter made now?

  “I am afraid it is me, Father. I rinsed the dung out of the linen with sour milk, and some of it spilled on me.”

  Milk, dung, and linen? What was his daughter doing with those? “Well, you’d better change before we leave. I will not smell that all the way back home.”

  “Leave?”

  “Yes, leave. I wrote you last week all about your marriage.”

  “Marriage? Letter?” Elizabeth stepped back.

  Ebenezer lowered the handkerchief. “Are you daft, girl? What did you think it said?”

  Mina stepped between father and daughter. “Ebenezer, neither of us received a letter. What is this about a marriage?”

  Ebenezer looked from one woman to the other, then ran his hand down his face. Had he sent it? The week had been a disaster, starting with the note from the lieutenant governor canceling his visit. Rebecca had been more than difficult since he’d disclosed his plans Monday night. He knew he’d written the letter. He was sure of it. And it should have arrived by now if he’d posted it. He patted his overcoat. Something in the right front pocket crinkled. He reached in and pulled out the addressed and sealed letter, then handed it to his daughter.

  “How soon can you be packed?”

  “I can’t leave until tomorrow afternoon. Gid—Mr. Frost left for the day. He asked me to take care of his chores so Aunt Mina wouldn’t try to milk the cow.”

  “You, milk a cow? And how dare you disrespect your Aunt Mindwell like that,” he said, obviously having forgotten about Mina’s insistence that Elizabeth use the more familiar moniker.

  “Ebenezer …” The warning in his aunt’s voice gave him pause. “I have gone by Mina since long before you were born. Only your mother refused to call me by that name. Elizabeth did not disrespect me. And unless you have remembered how to take care of your own animal, I suggest you allow your daughter to do so. She has learned much these last few months. You may be surprised. Come into the house, and I’ll get you something to drink.”

  Ebenezer followed his aunt through the back door. Over his shoulder he watched his daughter unhitch his horse and lead it to the barn.

  “What is this nonsense about a marriage?”

  Ebenezer settled into a chair and took the offered cup of cider. “The only nonsense I see is your education of my daughter.”

  Elizabeth tucked the letter in her pocket. Reading it now would not help. Aunt Mina had given her until tomorrow. Maybe if he saw her working, he would reconsider whatever plan he had.

  Supper was a silent affair. Aunt Mina kept glaring at her father. The letter burned in her pocket as much as did the few bites of hot pie she choked down. She excused herself and went and readied the other upstairs bedroom for her father.

  When she finished, she opened the door to her room, taking in the place that had become so comforting and familiar. A lump formed in her throat, and she shut the door before going downstairs.

  She found Aunt Mina in the parlor rocking in her chair, her Bible in her lap. She looked around for her father.

  Aunt Mina looked up. “He has gone on a walk.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes filled with tears. She sat on the ottoman at her aunt’s feet, laid her head in her aunt’s lap, and began to cry.

  Aunt Mina put her hand on her niece’s, bent her head down, and let her own tears fall.

  “Have you read the letter?”

  Elizabeth shook her head.

  Aunt Mina lifted Elizabeth’s chin. “I think it is best to read it before your father returns.”

  The letter shook in Elizabeth’s hands, and the words kept blurring. “Abner Sidewall? Before the end of the month?” Elizabeth clapped her hand over her mouth. Not Abner!

  “Who is Mr. Sidewall?” The hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder gave only the slightest comfort.

  Elizabeth drew in a long breath before answering. “A widower with”—she drew in another breath—“with four unruly boys. Mr. Sidewall has been charged more than once for public drunkenness and for profaning the Lord’s day.” Elizabeth took another breath. “Mr. Sidewall has agreed to marry me before the month is out and remove his family to no closer than Ohio.”

  Elizabeth wiped her tears. “What can I do? Gideon is gone, and our intentions won’t be certified for another week. If I tell Father, he will contest them.”

  “First we will pray. Gideon should return by noon tomorrow. We will try to put your Father off if we can. If not, I will send Gideon up there as soon as they are certified by the clerk. Did your father indicate he’d posted your intentions yet?”

  “He doesn’t mention it.”

  “That may give us time.”

  A noise on the lane alerted them to Ebenezer’s return. “Go and pack your trunk. We don’t want to appear to be dawdling.”

  Gideon stare
d in disbelief at Reverend Ingram. “A trial? But I have already renounced my calling. How can I be defrocked?”

  “And excommunicated.” Reverend Ingram sat back in his chair, setting down the papers on his desk. “These charges are quite serious—fornication, profaning the Lord’s day, and bearing false witness—all punishable under the laws of Massachusetts, but due to your position, we felt a church trial would be better suited to your crimes. If you are found guilty, the magistrate in Stoughton will be notified so you may pay the fines.”

  “I am innocent of all but fighting on the Lord’s day, but that was to defend the honor of a young woman who was near to being ravaged.”

  Reverend Ingram frowned at the papers. “Who can attest to the truth of this?”

  “Reverend Porter was told the whole of it within hours, as was Mrs. Richards. Who is it that accuses me?”

  Papers rustled. “A Mr. Theodor Butler. I am sure you are acquainted with him. He has donated quite a sum to Reverend Porter’s church fund.”

  “Did he mention it was he with whom I fought that Sunday?”

  “Hmmm. Ah yes, here it is. ‘Mr. Gideon Frost did in a malicious and unwarranted manner hit me in the face, causing my nose to bleed.”

  Gideon dropped his head to his hands. What was he to do?

  “The trial will be at noon Friday. Until then you shall be given a private chamber so you may pray and contemplate. If you have any witnesses to request, a carrier will leave at dawn. That should give them time to appear, as East Stoughton is less than four-hour ride. They will have most of Thursday to prepare. I have already summoned Reverend Porter.”

  Gideon rose to leave.

  “Gideon, I hope you can think of someone to testify on your behalf other than the women. Since Miss Garrett is also charged with fornication, her testimony bears little weight. Mr. Norton will show you to the room you will stay in. You are to take your meals there and not converse with my students.”

  Gideon nodded and stepped out the door to find Old Norton now acting as his jailer.

  Twenty-Eight

  Elizabeth took extra time with the barn chores partly to delay the return north. She wanted Gideon to be proud of her, so she double-checked every job twice. Late last night she sat with pen and quill, trying to formulate a letter to him, but none of the words that came to mind were right. Either they were too stilted and entirely too proper, or they were not proper at all and revealed far too much of her heart.

  She would miss the friendship they’d forged since the day he’d rescued her. She’d never imagined a man might be a friend, and she’d never had a true friend in her entire life, though there had been plenty of opportunities to have friends. She reminded herself she was not worthy of anything beyond friendship with Gideon. She hoped their friendship had not tarnished his reputation. The mess with the intentions would still need to be sorted out, but the sooner everyone knew he was not engaged, the better.

  Every time she thought of her aunt, tears threatened. Aunt Mina had even congratulated her that morning on making the perfect cup of chocolate. Elizabeth thought it was the same as the batch she’d made the week previous, but Aunt Mina insisted otherwise. Elizabeth did not want to leave Aunt Mina alone. Gideon would take care of her, but it would not be the same. At least the two people she loved most in the world would be together, and, hopefully, Gideon’s plan would give her time. But would being near him and knowing their intentions were false be any easier than going to Ohio as Mrs. Sidewall?

  She leaned over the oat bin to make sure the lid was on tight when something crinkled in her pocket.

  The letter. Perhaps she should read it again. So distraught was she last evening she had not gotten past the first few lines.

  Elizabeth fished the letter from her pocket. The barn was not the right place to read it, so she hurried to the house.

  Aunt Mina sat stirring something in the pot above the fire. She did not see her father. “I need to go read this,” Elizabeth waved the letter in her hand, wishing she had one of Mina’s hot mitts to hold it with. “Will you tell Father I have gone on a short walk?”

  Mina straightened. “Cut through the pasture. He went on a walk himself and will likely stay on the road.”

  Elizabeth rounded the table and gave her aunt a kiss on the cheek before rushing out the door and to her rock.

  She stepped carefully so as not to disturb the young plants. Her boulder welcomed her, already warm from the morning sun, but it was not enough to overcome the chill that coursed through her veins at her father’s words.

  Mr. Abner Sidewall is good enough for you, and his recent reversals in fortune should in no way prejudice you against him, nor should the fact he intends to take a farm in Ohio. The dowry I will bestow should be more than enough to pay his debts and leave you a bit to get started. It is well you have learned to cook and weave as there will be no servants for some time in his household, and with four of the most unruly boys in the county, you will be too busy to get into any more trouble.

  He has sworn to take you despite knowing how your wanton behavior has caused your total ruination. I told him all, of course. He deserves to know of his wife’s low reputation. It is a secret you can both keep as the area of Ohio where you are to live is unknown to both of us. There, neither of you shall sully my reputation further.

  I have posted your intentions this day and have asked Reverend Woods to announce them in his next three meetings. Therefore you shall marry on the twenty-third and depart that same day.

  One week from the sixteenth. That gave Gideon time to protest the intentions.

  A horse and rider thundered down the road. Through her tears, Elizabeth could not make out who it was, but she knew it must be Gideon. She leaped from her boulder, not worrying about showing her knees, and hurried to the house.

  Two steps up, two steps back. The small room didn’t have adequate room to pace. By now the brief note he’d addressed to Mrs. Mindwell Richards should be arriving. He prayed, not for the first time, that he had been mistaken about the identity of the carriage he’d passed yesterday afternoon.

  Another promise broken. He’d told Elizabeth she would not have to face her father alone. Gideon ran his hands through his hair. Perhaps it would be better if Elizabeth’s father took her home. Although she could attest to his innocence in some things, there was little chance the details of that fateful first Sunday of March would not cause her pain. He wondered if that day also haunted her nightmares.

  Last night, he’d again dreamed that he had not interfered in time and found her bruised and broken body only after Butler had finished with her. In his dream, Elizabeth had died in his arms, as had Ruth. No dream of Ruth, not last night or the night before, had interrupted his sleep. Come to think of it, he hadn’t dreamed of her or their son since the morning he’d held the Porters’ wee one in their kitchen. Mr. Whittaker was right. There would be a time when he wouldn’t long for Ruth. He would still miss her soft voice, but there was another woman with a quick wit filling a hole inside of him.

  Gideon sat on the end of the bed. Elizabeth would become a question in tomorrow’s court. What could he truthfully say without hurting her more?

  Leaning on her cane, Mindwell walked slowly to the front door. A slightly disheveled man she did not recognize stood on the porch.

  “Mrs. Mindwell Richards?”

  “Yes?”

  The man thrust a paper at her. “This is for you.”

  Mina almost dropped the paper when the man turned and ran for his horse. She turned it over to see the address was in Gideon’s writing. The back door slammed as she slid her finger under the wax seal of the seminary.

  “Gideon?” Elizabeth’s hopeful voice called from the kitchen. “Aunt Mina?” Her niece hurried through the house.

  “I don’t think he is coming, child. This was just d
elivered.” Mina turned into the parlor to find a chair. Elizabeth followed.

  Mina silently read the short note twice before looking at her niece. Fortunately he’d written in a large hand. Mina was thankful she’d not needed Elizabeth’s help in reading it. “He isn’t coming today. He is being detained. He has been brought up on charges, and the church leaders will hold a trial tomorrow.”

  “Surely not Gideon? What has he done?” Elizabeth reached for the letter, but Mina held it to her breast.

  “I am afraid our Gideon has angered the wrong person.”

  “I can’t leave you here alone.”

  “I am afraid you must. See there, your father has returned. I don’t think we can put him off any longer.”

  The front door slammed. “Isn’t your man back yet? The carriage isn’t ready.”

  Elizabeth scrambled up from the ottoman. “I’ll go and get it. Will you fetch my trunk?”

  Ebenezer glowered but ascended the stairway.

  Folding the letter, Mina slid it into her pocket before standing. She would need to pack a case too. She was going to Boston.

  Twenty-Nine

  Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Elizabeth refused to cry in front of her father. Her puffy eyes when she’d returned from her boulder to her aunt’s were enough of an embarrassment. Her father hadn’t spared her a moment. She’d barely had enough time to hug her aunt and whisper “I love you” in her ear.

  It was just as well Brookline was not on the itinerary. She did not want to be fussed over by Aunt Lydia. There would be enough of that when they got home. No doubt her mother would fuss enough in the days before her wedding.

 

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