“Colin, everything will be fine,” I coaxed.
Colin glanced at me, shaking his head with exasperation. “Rissa, nothing will be fine as long as she is part of this family. She will wheedle her way out of this and something bad will come of it. Mark my words.” Colin let out a long breath, continuing to pace.
Patrick watched him. “Col, what worries you?”
“Rissa is interested in Gabriel, and our loving stepmama is determined to thwart her. That is what worries me. Believe me, she will have a large part to play in what happens in Rissa’s future,” Colin finished, looking at me thoughtfully.
I smiled at him as I realized his concern was for me. “Colin, things will turn out fine. Now that Gabriel and I are talking again, she won’t be able to prevent our being together.”
Colin collapsed with a gentle thud into a chair. “Well, I guess you are right, Rissa. There is no use in worrying about what will come. What will happen, will happen, no matter how much we worry about it now.”
CHAPTER 33
I WOKE LATE THE FOLLOWING DAY. I had no desire to spend time with Mrs. Smythe, yet I knew we were the only two in the house. I sighed, rolling over to lay flat on my stomach. The scenes from last night played repeatedly in my mind, and I wished I could speak with Savannah. I hated the distance, even temporarily, with her in New York with Jonas.
I sat up abruptly, remembering that Aunt Betsy had remained in Boston, visiting Aunt Matilda. I had not seen any of them since the wedding a week ago. I threw the light sheet off me, the thought of escaping home for the Russells’ residence filling me with renewed vigor.
I washed and dressed for the day, donning an eggshell-blue light linen dress. I tied my hair back loosely in a quick bun, not worrying about a more fashionable style. Poking my head out of the door, I quietly listened for Mrs. Smythe but was met with silence.
I crept out of my room and down the back stairs. Mrs. Smythe never liked to use them, relegating that part of the house to the servants. I made my way to the empty basement kitchen, realizing it must be later than I had thought. All breakfast activity had long since ended, and I grabbed the heel of a loaf of bread. I absently ate it as I scribbled a note for Mrs. Smythe, leaving it for her on the front hall table.
I arrived at the store to find Lucas and Uncle Martin manning the front counter, measuring and folding cloth in a lull between clients. Lucas wore a light jacket over his suit, and I knew he was prepared for deliveries. Uncle Martin smiled broadly, his deep brown eyes glinting with pleasure. My mood lifted at seeing both of them.
“Lucas! Uncle Martin!” I exclaimed. “How are you both? How have you been since the wedding?”
I moved toward them, clasping Lucas’s arm in my excitement. He patted my hand a few times, seeming as happy to see me as I was to see him.
Uncle Martin eyed me. “Missing my Savannah as would be expected. However, I was not expecting to miss you also, dear Clarissa. Where have you been?”
“Yeah, Rissa. We almost sent Aunt Betsy over to determine if you were under house arrest,” Lucas attempted to joke. However, the frank concern in his eyes belied any hint of levity. At that moment, a customer entered, and he turned his attention to her, releasing my hand.
Uncle Martin led me to the family rooms. The darkened formal parlor sat unused since the formal soiree for Savannah. We continued down the hallway, to the stairs. “Let’s find your aunts. They will be delighted to see you.”
“Uncle, I am sorry to have been absent. I did not want to intrude after the wedding.”
“Well, I am sorry that you felt that your company was not welcome,” Uncle Martin replied. “We have missed having you here, and I hope your visit today means that you will begin to visit us again regularly.”
We walked up the stairs into the family parlor, to find it empty. Light streamed in the windows, the wood furniture gleaming in the sunlight. I sat on the ugly but comfortable Rococo settee, glancing at the paintings on the wall.
“I’ll ask Polly to start a pot of tea and find the aunts. Make yourself comfortable, Clarissa dear.” He kissed me gently on my forehead before leaving the room.
I heard footsteps accompanied by a gentle thunk and knew Aunt Betsy must be approaching. I looked up to see her beaming at me. She leaned heavily on her cane as she stood in the doorway, slightly heavier than when she had arrived a few weeks ago. She wore a cobalt-blue satin dress, her waist cinched with an orange-and-red oriental-patterned belt.
“Darling Clarissa, you have visited us again at last!” She held out her arms to me, and I leaped up from the settee to embrace her in a long hug.
After we settled on the settee, she studied me with her perceptive blue-green eyes. Today they seemed more blue than green reflecting her cobalt dress.
“I thought I would have to come to your house, threaten to move in for a few days to be able to see you,” Aunt Betsy joked although I sensed a grim undertone to her voice.
“Aunt Betsy, I am confused. You are always welcome at my home. All you needed to do is come over or write about visiting us.”
She patted my hand, as though trying to comfort me. “I did write, a few times.” She met my appalled gaze, raising her eyebrows to emphasize her words. “However, I was informed that you were very busy at present and that, when time allowed, I would be invited for tea. That was five days ago. We all began to worry about you, Clarissa. I even sent a formal invitation for you to have tea here, something I didn’t think you needed, which was declined.”
I exhaled loudly, sinking into the settee, as shock and a sense of numbness roiled through me. Aunt Betsy watched me carefully, asking, “You did know I wrote you?”
“I had no idea,” I whispered, meeting her gaze with stunned eyes. “I thought you wanted some space, some time to recover from Savannah’s wedding.”
“Clarissa,” Aunt Betsy chided, “we would never want time away from you, dearest.”
I shook my head with exasperation. “What is she up to?”
“Who, dear, is up to what?” asked Aunt Betsy. “Tell me all over a cup of tea.”
Polly entered with the tea tray, and I prepared the cups for us both. Once we had settled on the settee, I related the events from the previous week.
“You visited Mr. McLeod last night?” she asked, taking a small sip of tea, her eyes twinkling over the brim of her teacup.
I blushed, smiling and nodding.
“How did he look?” she asked.
“Handsome. Well, at first he was very angry with me, and I have never seen his eyes so bleak. However, after we finished talking, I have never seen him so happy. He looked wonderful! Well, slightly gaunt and pale, but still wonderful.” I realized I was gushing and stopped talking.
Aunt Betsy smiled at me, gently patting my knee. “Oh, Clarissa, that is excellent. I hope things continue to go well for you and Gabriel. I like him. He seems like an industrious young man, and he has the good sense to be enamored with you.”
“Colin is worried that Mrs. Smythe will do something to affect our relationship,” I admitted. “Last night I was certain that everything would be fine. However, after speaking with you today, I am less confident.”
“Clarissa, this simply means you must be vigilant. You are a young woman, who, though respectful of your family, is rather independent. You teach because you want to, not because you need to. If I were to give my advice, I think this is her way of trying to show that she is in control. That you are not as independent as you think.”
“Why would she feel such a need?”
“She has recently entered your family and has not been welcomed with open arms,” Aunt Betsy said, a mild reproach in her voice. “She may feel this is her way of showing you that she is your stepmother and that she is to be respected.”
“I just don’t understand why she cares so much about what I do,” I insisted.
“You are unconventional, Clarissa. You are educated outside of the homemaking arts, and you speak your mind when you want to. You
are a caring, kind person, yet you don’t suffer fools well. Unfortunately Mrs. Sullivan has aspects of the ridiculous about her. Her sugary voice, her preponderance for the theatrical tears, her use of props to make her seem delicate. That is all an act, Clarissa. My only advice for you would be to not underestimate her.”
I shared a long look with Aunt Betsy, realizing I had greatly missed her counsel. “How long can you stay in Boston?” I asked.
“Just a few more days. Uncle Tobias is becoming anxious for my return. I believe I will discuss with him having a sideboard or small hutch built by your Gabriel. What do you think?”
“I think that is a wonderful idea! Just ensure that Gabriel doesn’t have to spend too much time in Quincy.”
“No, dearest, my plan is that I would need to be in Boston, to help oversee any questions and that I would need your help to make sure it is constructed to my specifications.” Aunt Betsy smiled at my enthusiastic whoop of delight.
“What’s this I hear? Has Clarissa visited us at last?” Aunt Matilda asked as she entered the room. Her honey-blond hair pulled back in a casual bun, she appeared more relaxed than I had seen her in months.
“Hello, Aunt Matilda. It’s lovely to see you!” I gave her a quick hug, and she joined us, sitting in her chair.
After quickly explaining the reason for my absence, and noting the frowns shared by the aunts, I inquired after Savannah. “Any news from the honeymooners?”
“We had a short letter yesterday from Savannah. They are in New York City. Jonas appears to be enjoying himself greatly. However, reading between the lines, I think Savannah is less than enamored with the city. She mentioned a few times the noise, the traffic and bustle of the place. What would you say, Betsy?” Matilda looked toward her sister.
“Hmm…I would agree with you, Mattie. I think Savannah is feeling overwhelmed, poor thing. I do so hope they do not decide to settle in New York,” Aunt Betsy replied, sighing. She then smiled. “Tobias would laugh at me, what with the railroad now, but it still seems so far away to me.”
“Savannah’s exciting news is that Jonas has decided they should travel to Paris to see the Exposition Universelle,” Aunt Matilda effused.
I stared at her dumbfounded. I thought Savannah would be home in a week or two. “What?”
“Yes, dear, the World’s Fair, or its equivalent, is in Paris this year, and Jonas wants to take Savannah. Isn’t that exciting?”
I continued to stare at her, unable to comprehend that Savannah would be away for so long. “When will they return?”
“Hopefully by September,” Aunt Betsy commented. “Barring any problems with the crossings.”
“I never thought Sav dreamt of travel.”
“She didn’t,” Aunt Betsy said.
“Ah, to think of all of the fashionable shops she will go to,” Aunt Matilda gushed. “The parents will be quite pleased, Betsy, quite pleased.”
“Come now, dear Clarissa, let’s think about happier thoughts now, shall we?” Aunt Betsy murmured to me.
The conversation turned to my family. “Why don’t you come over after supper to visit us? It would be lovely to have us all together again.”
“How thoughtful you are, Clarissa,” Aunt Betsy said. “I should love to visit the Sullivans and see the changes to Agnes’s house. What do you think, Matilda?”
“I see no reason we shouldn’t visit. I think Lucas and Martin would also enjoy a change in our evening routine. We shall visit after supper, Clarissa. You will speak with Mrs. Sullivan about our plans?”
“Of course, Aunt Matilda,” I said. “And with that, I should leave to speak with Mrs. Smy—Sullivan.” I caught Aunt Betsy’s amused quirk of her lips at my near misspeak.
I rose, descending to the store, thinking through the news about Savannah. Lucas had a stack of parcels in front of him, and I could tell he was readying for deliveries.
“Can I walk with you, Lucas, as I head home?”
“I would enjoy the company,” Lucas said.
“Yes, Lucas,” Uncle Martin called out, “great idea to have Clarissa join you. Good for you two cousins to have time to catch up.”
Lucas nodded, his large bag nearly bursting with packages to deliver.
“Well, Rissa?” he asked, nodding toward the door, holding it open for me, waiting for me to precede him. “Rissa, please forgive me for being rude at the coffee shop the other day. I did not mean to offend you. It’s just that I worry about you.”
I gripped his arm as I walked beside him. “I understand, Lucas. However, I need you to trust that Gabriel is a good man. He is nothing like Jonas.”
“I don’t want to see you hurt again.”
“Nor do I, and I am hopeful I won’t be,” I said. “I have invited the aunts and Uncle Martin to call after dinner. Will you call tonight, too?” I asked.
“Of course. I have a new piece of music I want you to hear.”
I beamed at him as I turned down my street, imagining Gabriel’s call tonight.
CHAPTER 34
UPON OPENING THE DOOR to my house, I found Mrs. Smythe pacing the hallway, the gold bombazine of her afternoon tea dress brushing the hall stand and chairs with each turn, as though waiting to pounce the minute I entered.
“Where have you been, Clarissa?” she demanded as I opened the door.
I unpinned my hat, and placed both the pins and the hat on the front stand. I studied my hair in the gold-trimmed mirror, stalling for time. As I turned toward her, I straightened my shoulders, smiling tightly.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Smythe,” I said in way of greeting. “As I am sure you received my note, I was with the Russells. They were delighted to see me again after so long.”
“You spend entirely too much time with the Russells. Your place is at your father’s home, helping me to run it,” she snapped. “I expect you to not leave this house again without my express permission, do you understand?” She breathed heavily, one hand over her slightly swelling belly.
“No, Mrs. Smythe, I do not understand nor do I agree. I am of age, and you are not my mama. If I decide that I want to visit my family, I will visit them.”
I turned to go up the stairs to my bedroom, but she grabbed my elbow in a crushing grip.
“Do you honestly think your father will take your side in this?” she hissed.
I shook my arm free, walking up the stairs, the picture of her gloating eyes remaining in my mind.
That evening after supper, as we all read in tense silence in the parlor acting as though we were happy to be there together, I heard a knock at the front door. I realized I had been so preoccupied waiting for Gabriel to call, that I had forgotten to inform Da that the family was to visit. I wondered if the caller was Gabriel, but, instead of his deep baritone, I heard numerous voices in the front hall, and realized that the aunts, Uncle Martin and Lucas had arrived.
I rose, walking into the hallway to greet them. Uncle Martin handed his top hat and walking stick to Mary, while Aunt Betsy and Aunt Matilda handed their light cotton wraps to Bridget. Lucas stood holding a folder and gave me a quick wink as he waited to enter the parlor. I slowly walked into the parlor arm in arm with Aunt Betsy, the thunk of her cane a counterpoint to each step we took. “Look who’s come for a visit!” I exclaimed.
“Hoorah!” cried Da, who jumped up from his chair and clapped Uncle Martin and Lucas on the back, then gave Aunt Betsy and Aunt Matilda hugs. “I am so glad you called. Please, you are very welcome.” He ushered them in, and soon the room was full of laughter and conversation.
Mrs. Smythe had remained in her chair, not rising to greet the guests. She sat stiffly, waiting to be acknowledged. However, in the riotous greetings that occurred among the family, she was greatly ignored.
Da and Uncle Martin stood near the fireplace discussing the state of the economy. Aunt Betsy and Aunt Matilda sat on a comfortable settee near me, discussing fashion trends. Mrs. Smythe remained sitting apart from everyone, left to watch us all interact. I felt a pan
g of pity for her but did not act on it. I thought it was good for her to see how close a family we were, and that it was better not to keep us separated. Colin and Patrick settled into their favorite chairs and soon began discussing politics or sports, I could not decipher which.
Mrs. Smythe spoke in a carrying voice, interrupting the aunts’ conversation. “Mrs. Russell, I am sure you are delighted with your Savannah’s fortuitous marriage.”
Aunt Matilda smiled, almost preening with her joy. “We are. Mr. Russell and I could not be more pleased.”
“I am sure you would understand my concern about Clarissa. Wasting away, day after day, with no decent callers. I fear she will never meet anyone worthy of marriage if she continues to work with those unfortunate children.”
“Mrs. Sullivan,” Aunt Betsy said, her eyes now icy blue, “I am sure you would agree that Clarissa is blooming. She is contented with her life. Aren’t you dear?”
I nodded, but before I could speak, Mrs. Smythe continued. “Yes, of course you would think so. You want to believe it. And yet I know how much that young man hurt her a few years ago. If only I had been her stepmother and able to impart all of my wisdom, she would now be a married woman.” She sighed, fanning herself as she studied me.
“Cameron, Mr. Wright, has no bearing on my life anymore. I am looking to my future, not my past.” I glared at her for suggesting otherwise.
“Oh, aren’t you brave, saying such things. I know you want to believe it. I just wish you would give Mr. Wright another chance. He’s such a fine upstanding young man from a good family. He would make you an excellent husband.”
“How would you know? You never met him,” Aunt Betsy demanded.
“Unlike my stepdaughter, I call on other like-minded, sophisticated women for tea. Many of the mothers speak of the quality of his family. On one occasion, I was fortunate enough to make his acquaintance. Such a refined young man.” She watched me with a cunning smile. “The sort of man one wishes for in a son-in-law.”
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