Davenport House 7: Hard Times

by Marie Silk

  “You shouldn’t have come for me. I want to die out here,” she said in a low voice.

  “You don’t know what you’re saying,” responded Ethan. “Come on. Let’s go back to the house.”

  “I can’t go back there. Everyone is better off without me. Let’s face it, I never really belonged there…or anywhere…”

  “They’re worried sick about you. We shouldn’t make them worry anymore.”

  Clara shrugged. “It’s too late. Now Mary knows I am capable of the worst thing a person could ever do.”

  “Mary doesn’t know about the envelope,” he told her, even though he wasn’t sure why it mattered.

  Clara looked up at him. “She doesn’t?”

  “There’s blood on your dress,” he said, stepping closer to her.

  Clara laughed. “I cut my leg on that stupid fence! Can you believe it?”

  He looked at her skeptically. “Have you been drinking?”

  Clara threw her hands up in the air. “Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’m not a lawbreaker, for goodness’ sake. I’m just a disgrace in every other possible way…”

  “Let me see how bad the cut is,” he said. She looked at him blankly. Ethan leaned down and pulled her dress away from her leg.

  Clara laughed again. “Ethan, you’re a married man! Oh, I only wish I would have married you before, when I still had the chance. I could have married Phillip too. Why did I have to be so stubborn? I could have married either of you and been perfectly happy.”

  Ethan looked at the cut on her leg as best he could in the wind and rain. “It’s not that bad. We can bandage it up at home.” The thunder cracked above them.

  “Do you know what the worst part of all this is? I know exactly what happened to Joe. I acted like I didn’t know, but I did know.”

  “What do you mean?” Ethan said, although he was afraid to ask.

  “He left me. The day I told him it was past my time to bear children—it’s what scared him off. I even wondered if he took my money and ran with it like Lawrence did. But I checked the vault last night and every penny was still there. Every penny. Naturally, it could only mean that Joe couldn’t handle the thought of being with a useless woman like me!”

  Ethan picked her up off the ground and started to carry her up the hill. She screamed at him, “No! I don’t want to go back!” Ethan ignored her cries and carried her to the horse that waited for them on the other side of the fence.

  When they got back to the house, Abigail ran out to meet them in the front drive. “Oh, thank goodness you’re back!”

  Ethan appeared exasperated as he helped Clara down from the horse. Clara seemed to have temporarily snapped out of her madness. “Oh, I can’t let anyone see my like this! I’m a mess! Please, don’t make me face Mary and the servants this way! I don’t want them to know.”

  “It’s all right, Clara,” Abigail said gently. “Ethan will take you to the stable apartment and you can get cleaned up there. I will bring a dress for you to change into and we can walk back to the house together.”

  “Thank you, Abigail. I don’t know what I would do without you,” Clara said.

  “Can you bring some shoes for her, and bandages too?” Ethan asked. “She’s barefoot and she’s got a cut that needs looking after.”

  “Right away,” Abigail said, and hurried into the house.

  Clara turned to Ethan. “You won’t tell them where you found me, will you? Please, don’t tell Mary how awfully I’ve behaved. I couldn’t bear for her to think ill of me.”

  “I won’t say anything to Mary,” he mumbled, hoping it would get Clara to move faster toward the stable.

  Abigail brought a dress to the stable apartment for Clara. Ethan quietly took her aside while they waited for Clara to wash up.

  “Abigail,” he said. “I need to go back to our manor house to tend to the horses tomorrow, but I think you should stay here with Clara. I’ve known her for a long time and I’ve never seen her this bad before. Maybe William can help her—she’s not in her right mind.”

  “I know, and I agree with you,” Abigail said wearily. “But there is something else—Mary is not well. She hasn’t healed from her operation and I thought I should to offer to stay with her until she finds a nanny.”

  “Is Mary going to be all right?”

  “I think so. She needs the chance to rest.”

  Ethan hugged her close. “You’re going to be overworked between looking after her and Clara and the children. I’ll take Patrick with me back to Philadelphia.”

  Abigail smiled gratefully and looked into his eyes. “I will miss my little boy, but you’re right that he should go home with you.”

  “Um—I’m ready,” Clara said humbly as she stepped into the room. “Abigail, I’m so sorry for everything I’ve put you and Ethan through tonight. I’m grateful you came to help. I don’t even know how I walked all the way to the river today. When I left the house, I only meant to go to the cemetery and come right back. I don’t know what happened to my shoes, either.”

  “I am glad that you are safe, Clara,” Abigail told her. “Now let’s get you back to the house.”

  After Clara had settled into her room for the night, Abigail went to check on Mary, who was just waking up in her bed. “What a wonderful sleep,” she said groggily. “Is everything all right, Abigail? You look rather tired yourself. I hope my Violet didn’t give you too much trouble.”

  “She was the perfect angel,” Abigail replied.

  “Will you still be leaving tomorrow if the weather is like this? The thunder woke me up a few times,” Mary said.

  “I’m not leaving tomorrow, Mary. I’ve spoken to Ethan about it and we decided that I will stay here…for you and Clara…until you are both feeling better.”

  Chapter 5

  The next day, Mary went downstairs to the library telephone to call William at the clinic. “Good morning,” she said to him. “I’m calling to see if you’re all right.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t come home last night,” he said. “I’m afraid that I’ve lost both of my nurses here.”

  “Oh dear, what happened?” asked Mary.

  “It wasn’t just a rumor about the doctor coming to town. The nurses who worked for me had a better offer to work at the new hospital…and I can’t possibly pay them as much as what the hospital can. I’m afraid I’ll be working late more than usual. But don’t worry, I will come by this afternoon to see Clara.”

  “Why are you coming to see Clara?” asked Mary, unaware of the previous night’s events.

  “The others say she is not well and hasn’t been herself.”

  “I suppose it can only be expected,” reasoned Mary. “She did seem rather in a daze the last time I saw her. I spoke to Clara in the library but she never responded—then a few moments later she seemed surprised to see me there. But is it anything she would require a doctor for?”

  “It’s hard to say,” answered William. “If she has brain fever like I think she might, it has potential to become very serious.”

  “Brain fever,” Mary repeated. “How does it happen?”

  “It can be caused by trauma…or in this case, heartbreak. Do you remember the way you became when I told you about the Lusitania sinking? It was years ago.”

  Mary sighed. “I hardly remember anything that happened during that time.”

  “I think you had a touch of brain fever. You were unresponsive to the world around you. We were fortunate it only lasted a week—some cases can last for years.”

  “Poor Clara,” said Mary. “How can we help her? Is there a cure?”

  “I’m afraid there is no cure. Sometimes it comes and goes, sometimes it sticks with a person. I’m sure you can help Clara by taking charge of the house and ensuring she receives her meals while she recuperates.”

  “I can do that,” Mary said quietly.

  “I have to get back to my work, Mary. I’ll see you later this afternoon when I come for Clara. Goodbye.”

>   “Goodbye, William.” Mary placed the telephone receiver into the cradle and stared in front of her. Fiona walked by the library double doors and saw Mary sitting at the desk.

  “Miss Mary?” she said from the doorway.

  “Yes, Fiona, what is it?”

  Fiona shyly approached her at the desk. “I wanted to tell you that today will be my last day working at the house. Mrs. Spencer seems to have everything under control now. But I wondered if I could come to you with questions I might have, about the baby, when I don’t work here anymore.”

  Mary smiled compassionately. “Of course you can come to me with anything you need.”

  “Thank you, Miss Mary. We are fortunate to have a midwife living so close by.”

  “You will be missed very much. Do you think Mrs. Spencer is up to the challenge of filling your shoes?”

  “She seems to be adjusting very well. I really believe she cares for Miss Clara and wishes to see her happy,” Fiona answered. “In a way, she almost reminds me of Mrs. Price.”

  “Now that you mention it, I think I see it too,” Mary said, rising from her seat. “Abigail must have been right that it was meant to be.”

  “Miss Mary, there is one other thing I wanted to speak to you about. When Sam was clearing brush from our property, he found an old grave. I was going to tell Miss Clara about it, but did not wish to bother her. I remembered that your family owned this estate before Clara became Mistress, so perhaps you might know about it.”

  Mary was caught by surprise. “I didn’t know anything about a grave on that part of the estate. What does it say?”

  Fiona shrugged. “Not much of anything. I couldn’t see the dates engraved and the overgrowth made it difficult to make out the name. We won’t disturb the grave, of course.”

  “I wonder if it is the grave of a servant since it was placed so far from the family cemetery. Do you mind if I have a look?”

  “I’d be glad to show you,” Fiona said. “We can take the horses over since it’s a rather long walk to the property.”

  Mary clutched her stomach anxiously as she thought of how painful it would feel to ride a horse. “It’s all right, Fiona. I’ll drive us over in my car.”

  At the Valentis’ farmhouse, Serena was folding up the letter she had just written. “Brother, would you see that this message gets to Clara…when she is not quite so distressed,” she said, handing Phillip the letter.

  “Sure, I can do that.” He put the letter in his pocket and pointed to the carpet bags on Serena’s bed. “Are these ready to go?”

  “Yes, it’s all ready to go to the car. It was kind of Clara to let us drive it to the train station,” Serena remarked. “I hope she’ll be all right.”

  While Phillip was loading the luggage into the back of the car, he smelled smoke. His heart pounded furiously when he looked back at the farmhouse and saw smoke rising from a blackened outside wall. He raced through the front door and shouted, “Serena! Get the children out!”

  Serena pulled the three children from their bedroom and rushed them outside the back door while Phillip battled with the flames above the cook stove in the kitchen.

  “Oh no! I forgot to close the firebox!” cried Gabriella. Serena told the children to wait in Clara’s car while she went back into the house to help her brother.

  Serena was relieved to see that Phillip had put out the last of the flames. Smoke and soot were everywhere. “Are you all right, brother?”

  “Open all the doors and windows,” he instructed between coughs. Serena obeyed and soon the smoke in the farmhouse began to thin. Phillip went outside for fresh air while Serena surveyed the damage.

  “Did you get the fire out, Papa?” Gabriella asked tearfully.

  “The fire’s out,” he said. “But the kitchen’s ruined.”

  “I’m sorry,” she cried. The younger children looked on helplessly.

  Serena came out of the house and coughed to clear her lungs. “The bedrooms are all right,” she sputtered. “Don’t worry, brother. I won’t go to Pittsburgh. I’ll stay to help with the children while the kitchen is repaired.”

  Phillip groaned as he watched the remaining smoke pour out of the house. “That’s not going to work, Serena.”

  “Then what can I do to help?” she asked sadly.

  “The whole kitchen is a wreck. The children can’t stay here while the house is like this. Just take them all to Pittsburgh with you while I get the house figured out.”

  “You want me to take Gabriella and Donnie with me to our parents’ house?” she questioned.

  “At least I know that if they are with our mother, she will feed them well—which is more than I can do myself right now.”

  “I’ll go pack a bag for them. There is still time for us to make the train,” Serena told him, then headed back into the farmhouse.

  Back at Davenport Estate, Mary drove with Fiona to the parcel of land where Sam had build his homestead. Fiona directed Mary where to park the car in order to see the grave. They were surprised to see that Sam and Ethan had just arrived at the same place on horseback. Ethan walked over to the car to open Mary’s door for her. “Mary, Sam told me about the grave here and I came to check it out, but I don’t think you should look,” he warned.

  “Why?” she asked, feeling perplexed. “Did you find out who it belonged to?”

  Ethan and Sam looked at each other in a strange way. “We don’t know,” he answered.

  “Then why shouldn’t I see it?” she asked.

  “We were able to clear off the stone so we could see the name,” Ethan said solemnly.

  “What does it say?” asked Fiona.

  Mary walked past Ethan and leaned down to look at the tombstone herself. She gasped when she read the inscription.

  Here Lies

  MARY LORRAINE DAVENPORT

  “It’s—it’s my name,” Mary said with a shudder. “Did you know anything about this grave, Ethan?”

  “Pa told me there was a grave somewhere on the estate that had been here for awhile. I never saw it until now.”

  “I suppose it just means that a relation of mine was buried here,” Mary reasoned. “It must be who I was named after. I only wonder why it was placed so far from our family cemetery.” She did not want to admit to them that she was still shaken up from seeing her own name.

  “We were going to put an orchard on this plot, but we’ll be sure not to plant too close,” Fiona assured her.

  Mary began to feel nauseated. “I think I should get back to the house now,” she said weakly. But before she made it back inside the car, her vision went black and she began falling to the ground.

  Abigail was by Mary’s side when she awoke hours later. “Mary, are you all right?”

  She breathed deeply. “I had the strangest dream,” she answered. “Is William here yet?”

  “He left after seeing Clara this afternoon. It was just before Ethan brought you home. Honestly, Mary, I told you not to even go downstairs, and you ended up on the other end of the estate!” scolded Abigail.

  “I did?” Mary asked in confusion. “What happened?”

  “Ethan said you fell unconscious while visiting Sam’s property,” Abigail explained.

  Mary cringed. “Oh, then it wasn’t a dream.”

  “You need to be staying in bed,” Abigail said, giving her a stern look. “How did you end up at Sam’s place?”

  “Well I had to go downstairs to call William this morning. Fiona saw me and told me about a grave on their property and I went to see it with her. I promise I won’t leave my bed again tonight…just as soon as I get something from the library.”

  “You are not going downstairs,” Abigail said firmly. “Tell me what it is you need from the library and I’ll get it for you.”

  Mary felt guilty for being such a bother. “Will you please bring up the family Bible? I want to check something.”

  “I will bring up the Bible, but you had better still be in bed when I return,” Abigail said.
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  “I will be,” promised Mary. “Oh, did William say what was wrong with Clara?”

  Abigail’s expression became sad. “He confirmed that it was brain fever. We must look after Clara while she recovers.”

  Mary hated to think of Clara in such a state. “Poor Clara. I hope she is cured soon.”

  “We can only hope and pray that she is.”

  Chapter 6

  “…Rather than let anything from her canceled event go to waste…” Mrs. Malone read dramatically to the housemaid, “…Miss Davenport seems to have made lemons into lemonade for the good of the town.”

  Jane’s eyes were wide as saucers and she listened to the cook read the article aloud. They were huddled together near the cupboards in the kitchen. “Why, that’s nothing like the other stories at all,” remarked Jane, who was always keen to hear the town’s gossip—even if it was a day old by the time the servants saw the newspaper.

  Mrs. Malone folded the paper and hid it between the breadbox and the cupboard. “It’s odd isn’t it? Now who do you suppose knows so many details about the people in this town, yet won’t say an ill word about Miss Clara?”

  Jane was bewildered. “I have no idea. Do you?”

  Mrs. Malone smiled mischievously. “I’ve got my suspicions.”

  “Oh, do tell! Please won’t you tell?” begged Jane.

  Mrs. Spencer entered the kitchen just then. “What is it you need to know, Jane?” she asked.

  Jane looked at Mrs. Malone, but Mrs. Malone shook her head in warning. “Um—I just wanted to know what is on the menu for tonight,” Jane lied rather miserably.