by Marie Silk
“I will make other arrangements, don’t worry,” Mary assured her.
Mary went into the house to look for Mrs. Price, who was the estate overseer as well as Clara’s mother. Abigail, Mary’s companion, passed Mary in the Hall.
“Good afternoon, Mary,” greeted Abigail. “Will you be riding today? I am about to see Ethan at the stable.”
“I think I will ride later, but for now I am looking for Mrs. Price. You go on ahead without me,” replied Mary.
Abigail smiled. “I will tell Ethan. I have finished making this set of riding clothes for myself so I will not need to borrow yours anymore. I am glad that we will go to to the cobbler’s shop tomorrow. I’m afraid my boots are nearly worn through.”
Mary cringed. “Oh dear. I had forgotten that you needed to go to Yorktown tomorrow as well. I told Clara that she could have the carriage to see her dressmaker in Philadelphia. I will explain to her,” Mary said, feeling conflicted.
“It is alright, Mary. Clara should take the carriage,” offered Abigail, trying to hide her disappointment. “My boots will hold up another day or two, I am sure. I understand that Clara is eager to get her dress started.”
“Now I feel that I have let both of you down,” Mary sighed. “I must find Mrs. Price to see if there is anything we may do about this.”
She found Mrs. Price in the library reviewing the tenant accounts. “Good afternoon, Miss Mary,” greeted Mrs. Price.
“Good afternoon. I would like to speak with you about purchasing an automobile sooner than we originally intended. With Clara and Abigail planning their weddings at the same time, and the things that I must do in town, one carriage will no longer do,” explained Mary.
“I am afraid that two of our tenants are behind on their rents just now, but perhaps sometime next month,” answered Mrs. Price.
“Are there no other options to consider? I was hoping for this week.”
“I have thought of something, but was not sure how you would receive the idea. An automobile for the house would mean less use of the carriage. Perhaps we may sell the carriage horses. The price they would bring will make up the shortage in rents, and you could purchase your car sooner,” suggested Mrs. Price.
“I suppose it would not be the end of the world if we had to part with the carriage horses,” Mary thought aloud. Then she smiled. “Very well, Mrs. Price. Please see to the sale of the horses so that we may finally have our motor car. It is time that we began living with the rest of America in the twentieth century.”
Mary went to the stable to see Ethan, the young man who cared for the horses and stable of Davenport Estate. “Good afternoon, Miss Mary,” he greeted in his usual quiet way.
“Good afternoon,” Mary replied. “I have just been speaking with Mrs. Price about selling the carriage horses so we may purchase a motor car.”
Ethan held his breath. “You will sell the horses?” he asked skeptically. He was anxious about the recent transition from horse to car that put many stables boys out of work.
“We are only parting with the carriage horses. We will keep the other three of course,” answered Mary.
“For now…” Ethan muttered under his breath.
Mary giggled at his moody reaction. “Everything will be fine, Ethan. You will always have a home here. I promise.”
“What about Peter Ross?” asked Ethan.
Mary cringed. “I suppose I had not considered what would happen to our carriage driver. Perhaps he may take driving lessons and become our new chauffeur.”
Ethan shook his head. “He is old, Mary. His eyesight is going.”
Mary became frustrated. “Do you have any better suggestions? It seems that I cannot make everyone happy with my decisions for the house.”
“I am sorry,” Ethan told her. “I know you are doing your best. Part of me is worried that I will be out of a job and then I could never provide a proper house for Abigail.”
“How are your wedding plans coming along?” asked Mary, grateful to change the subject. They could hear Abigail riding back to the stable just then.
Ethan was quiet. He did not know how to tell Mary that he had not spoken of wedding plans since his engagement to Abigail weeks ago. Ethan lived in the apartment above the stable with his father, who also worked on the estate as the groundskeeper. Ethan figured that Abigail would not want to live in his small apartment after she had been living in the mansion as a lady’s companion. He smiled apologetically at Mary for not answering, then went to assist Abigail.
“Just a moment, Ethan,” said Abigail when she saw Mary. “Have you come to ride, Mary? I will accompany you, if you wish.”
“No, I have only come to talk with Ethan about some changes. He is unhappy with me,” Mary teased.
Ethan helped Abigail down from her horse. “Miss Mary is going to sell the carriage horses,” he told her mournfully.
Abigail took Ethan’s hand and looked into his eyes. “I am certain that everything will be alright,” she assured him. Ethan smiled back at her. One look from Abigail made him forget all of his worries. His heart was filled with love for her.
“I am returning to the house now, but I am not sure that I should leave you two without a chaperon,” Mary giggled.
“I will go with you, Mary,” replied Abigail as she slowly released Ethan’s hand. She was glad to be marrying such a kind, handsome man, but Abigail wondered why he would not talk about the wedding at all.
Mary and Abigail walked back to the house, and Mary thought she would try her question again. “How are your wedding plans coming along, Abigail?”
“I am unsure,” Abigail answered shyly.
“What do you mean?”
“Ethan has not said anything about it. I am too embarrassed to mention the wedding myself,” she answered.
“I do not understand. He spoke to me of how much he wanted to marry you. I wonder what he is waiting for.”
“I wish that I knew. I already have my wedding dress, at least,” answered Abigail.
“How wonderful! Did you make it yourself?” asked Mary. She knew that Abigail used to be a seamstress.
Abigail smiled to remember how she got the dress. “Ethan gave it to me. It belonged to his mother,” she replied shyly.
Mary gasped. “Oh! It is lucky that Ethan was able to save it from the stable fire. May I see the dress? I did love Ethan’s mother dearly. She was so kind to me. I would be grateful to see anything that belonged to her.”
Abigail smiled. “Come to my room and I will show you. It is lovely.”
Clara Davenport walked toward the farmhouse where her fiance lived with his two children. Phillip Valenti had come to America from Italy and recently moved to York County from Pittsburgh after his wife passed away. Phillip desired that his two young children would be raised on a quiet farm in the countryside. The Valentis’ farmhouse was just a short walk from Davenport House.
“Miss Clara!” Phillip’s four-year-old little girl greeted Clara at the door.
“Good afternoon, Gabriella,” Clara said with a smile. “Is your papa in the house?”
“Papa is outside. I must stay in the house and keep Donnie out of mischief,” Gabriella said about her three-year-old brother.
Clara giggled. “I will go find your papa. You keep watching your brother.” She walked around to the back of the house and found Phillip by the fruit trees. Clara’s blond hair shone brightly in the sun and her elegant dress brought out the blue in her eyes. Phillip smiled when he saw her.
“Good afternoon, Clara. You look beautiful. I must be the luckiest man in Pennsylvania,” he said, reaching for her hand to kiss.
“Why, thank you. You look handsome yourself,” Clara remarked, admiring his muscular build and attractive face. Phillip chuckled in response. He had been working on the garden all day and it showed. He was not sure if he should believe Clara, but he was happy to hear her say it anyway. Clara continued, “It is funny that Gabriella can take care of Donnie, when she is so young herself.”<
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Phillip nodded. “She will be five in a few days. I remember my sisters being made to cook dinners by that age. I was hoping you could teach her, since I am no good at cooking myself.”
Clara laughed. “I am no cook, but I will try. I am going to Philadelphia tomorrow to meet a dressmaker.”
“Oh, then I will not see you tomorrow,” remarked Phillip. “I hope you have a pleasant journey.”
“I could be there and back in half the time with a motor car. I am going to ask my mother if I can buy one for myself. I get weary of always asking Mary if I may use the carriage. Anyway, we will need a car when we marry. I thought perhaps we could go to New York for our honeymoon,” said Clara.
Phillip smiled. “Anything you wish, my dear.”
“I have already met with the minister at Yorktown. You will like the church, I am sure. It is not very fancy but it is where we can be married,” said Clara.
Phillip raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh? I suppose I have not seen the church yet.”
“We should go together in the new car,” Clara giggled. “I cannot wait.”
Abigail and Mary stood in Abigail’s room, admiring the flowing white wedding gown. “Oh, it is breathtaking! How lucky you are,” said Mary. “Have you tried it on already?”
“Every night,” Abigail confessed shyly. “It fits splendidly. I only hope that I may wear it for real before I grow old,” she teased.
“Would you like for me to speak with Ethan about why he has not said anything about the wedding? He is rather shy, but I am happy to ask him for you,” suggested Mary.
“It is generous of you to offer. I think I should speak to him myself, though. Perhaps he does not think that I will be happy living in the apartment with him,” said Abigail.
“Well, would you? Be happy living so simply, I mean,” asked Mary.
“Of course I would be. As long as we are together, it does not matter to me where we live. I had always lived a simple life until I became your companion. I am happy either way,” she answered.
Mary smiled. “I will miss you living in the house with me. I am glad that my best friends will be marrying each other, although I am rather envious if I am to be honest.”
Abigail looked serious for a moment. “Mary, I have wanted to ask you, but I did not know how to say it. Does it cause you any pain that I have agreed to marry Ethan? I know you have been close to him since childhood.”
Mary looked surprised, then giggled. “You are kind to worry for me. I have loved Ethan my whole life, but not in the way that you love each other. I only want him to be happy and looked after. I would rather no one in the world marry him but you. When I said I was envious, I did not mean about Ethan. I meant I wish it was me who was getting married. I suppose I am envious for this beautiful dress as well. I cannot wait to see your wedding.”
“I am certain it is only a matter of time before William asks you. Do you know what he said to me in the gardens just weeks ago?” questioned Abigail.
Mary’s heart began to beat faster. “What did he say to you?”
“He asked me when the days of your mourning tradition would be complete,” Abigail replied with a smile.
Mary gasped. “So William is waiting for me to be out of mourning. It feels as though it has been ages since Father died. It is difficult to believe it has only been two months. I suppose it feels longer because so much has happened since then.” Mary paused for a moment. “Did you know that William has kissed me?”
“What?” gasped Abigail. “When did this happen?”
Mary smiled but her cheeks were pink with embarrassment. “It has happened twice. The first time was at the clinic when he told me that he was leaving for Philadelphia. The other time was here at the house before he went back to the clinic. It was heavenly,” Mary said, covering her face with a pillow from Abigail’s bed.
Abigail giggled. “Well, now it is I who am envious. I have never been kissed. So you are ahead of me in that respect.” The girls laughed together and continued to admire the beautiful wedding gown hanging from the wardrobe.
At the dining table that night sat Mary and Abigail, Clara and her mother Mrs. Price, and Ethan and his father John Smith, who Mary had invited to dine with the family every night. Mrs. Price’s sister had worked as the cook at Davenport House after the former cook went missing. Catherine Price was well-known for her delicious meals, and everyone at the table felt fortunate to have her as the cook.
“We will be buying a motor car soon,” announced Mary happily. Clara seemed to perk up at this news.
“A wonderful idea, Mary. I will be getting one for myself as well. We will have two cars here!” Clara said excitedly. Mrs. Price gave Clara a look, but did not say anything. Mrs. Price managed Clara’s finances and was well aware that Clara could not afford a car anytime soon.
“I do feel badly for putting poor Peter Ross out of a job as our carriage driver. I suppose we will have to make inquiries for a chauffeur,” Mary mentioned.
“Phillip can drive cars,” said Ethan suddenly. “He has told me that he is looking for work to support his family.”
“That won’t be necessary, Ethan,” Clara stated firmly. “Phillip is soon to be married to me. He should not need to demean himself to such a job as driving others around. Unless it is our own car, of course.”
The room went quiet for a moment. No one knew how to respond to Clara’s statement. Mary finally broke the awkward silence. “Have you and Phillip set a date?” she asked.
“We have not decided on the date, but I am hoping for August when my dress should be done. I will ask Mrs. Livingston how long the dress will take to finish when I visit her tomorrow.”
Abigail could not take her eyes off of Ethan. He looked exceptionally dashing tonight in his black suit and tie. Abigail sat across the dining table from him and wished she could lean over and kiss him right then. Ethan smiled at Abigail when he noticed her looking. Abigail became suddenly shy and looked down at her plate. “The gardens will be lovely in August, I am sure. Will you have your reception here at the house?” Abigail asked Clara, trying to participate in the conversation.
“I believe so,” answered Clara. “I have already spoken to the minister of the church at Yorktown. It is not a grand building, but it will have to do for the ceremony.”
“My boy was baptized from that church,” mentioned John Smith. “The minister is a good man.”
“Clara was baptized there as well,” remarked Mrs. Price.
“I expect all of us were,” said Mary. “Not Abigail, of course, since she only moved here recently from Johnstown.”
Abigail smiled in response. Dinner was soon finished and most everyone retired to bed. Fiona, the young housekeeper of Davenport House, found Clara walking toward the grand staircase for her bedroom. “Mr. Valenti here to see you, Miss Clara,” Fiona announced. “He waits for you outside the front door.”
“He is here now?” asked Clara in bewilderment. “I hope the children are alright.” She went out to meet him in front of the house. “Phillip, whatever is the matter?” she asked as she approached him in the dark.
“I am sorry to bother you like this, Clara. I came as soon as the children fell asleep. I just wanted to speak with you,” he said anxiously.
“Oh, I see. Well, I am glad that you have come to visit. You will never believe what the others said about you at dinner tonight,” said Clara.
“What did they say?” asked Phillip worriedly.
“Mary is wanting to hire a chauffeur for the new motor car she will buy. Ethan suggested that you could fill the position,” Clara explained, shaking her head.
Phillip raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I would like that very much. The wages would be welcome.”
“Oh, Phillip, you don’t want to drive people around for a living. Besides, a Davenport lady cannot marry a chauffeur. I thought you would like to be a gentleman and we could live off my inheritance as other ladies and gentlemen do,” explained Clara.
“What is it?” Clara questioned, suddenly panicking that Phillip may be having second thoughts.
“I—I don’t know how to say this, but I must tell you plainly. I am Catholic, and I cannot get permission to marry you unless you agree to raise the children in the Catholic church,” he said worriedly, wringing his hat in his hands.
Clara’s eyes grew wide. She suddenly looked around to make sure that no one could hear them. “You are Catholic?” she whispered frantically. “Why have you not said before now?”
“I am afraid it has become a habit stay silent about it. When you spoke of meeting the minister today, I realized I had to say something.”
“I assumed everyone here was Protestant,” said Clara. “Why do you need your church’s permission anyway? You can convert and not worry about what they say.”
Phillip looked down and sighed. “I am Italian, Clara. My family has been Catholic for generations. It is not as simple as converting. I would not ask you to convert for me. I only need to know that you will allow the children to be raised Catholic.”
“How can I consent to such a thing? My mother would faint,” Clara said.
“I should have said something sooner. I guess I was caught up in the feelings and did not think,” said Phillip sadly.
“Yes, you should have said something sooner! I was just about to leave to Philadelphia to have my dress made!”
“Perhaps we may come to a solution—” began Phillip.
“I don’t see how we can. There are some things that I can bend on, and I am afraid this is not one of them,” Clara interrupted. “Unless you convert. It is the only way we can be married.”
Phillip hung his head. “Perhaps we can speak of it later after you have had time to think about it.”
Clara huffed angrily. “If you will not convert for me, then you must not have wanted to marry me so much in the first place!” She turned to go back into the house. Just after she opened the door, she turned her head to say to him, “Perhaps you should take the chauffeur job for Mary after all. Without my inheritance, you will certainly need the money.” She closed the door forcefully and went to her bedroom to cry. She thought about how humiliated she would be to tell everyone that the wedding she had boasted about for weeks—was now off.