Davenport House 3: A Mother's Love

by Marie Silk

  “My automobile is here!” she squealed. She hurried down the grand staircase and out the front door. Fiona was already on her way to the door to greet the visitor. “It is my new car,” Clara told her. “Let us meet my chauffeur!” Clara led the way while Fiona followed.

  “Are you Miss Davenport?” asked the driver.

  “I am,” she answered proudly. “And you are?”

  “The name’s Stuart. Mr. Sharp sent me with your car. Is it to your liking, Miss?”

  “It is!” Clara exclaimed as she clasped her hands together in delight. “This is Fiona, our housekeeper. She will inform you when I need to order the car in the future.” Stuart nodded and winked at Fiona when Clara was not looking. Fiona looked at the ground and wanted to go back into the house.

  “I wish to leave for Philadelphia right away,” Clara said. “I have shopping to do.” Stuart helped Clara climb into the car and they were soon on their way. Fiona went back into the house feeling strange about the man she just met.

  After Mrs. Price settled into her new room, she went to look for her daughter all throughout the house. She suddenly realized that she had not seen Mary, Clara, or Abigail that day. Mrs. Price dined alone at lunchtime and wondered where the girls could be.

  Mary slowly opened her eyes. The room appeared blurry at first, but she could soon see Ethan sitting on the floor beside the bed, appearing to be deep in thought. Abigail was not in the room. “Is it true?” Mary whispered to Ethan. “Or have I only dreamed it?”

  Ethan looked up at her. “I am still trying to understand it, myself,” he replied. “Abigail has left to order tea for us.”

  “Was your father really in prison?” Mary questioned.

  Ethan nodded. “He told me just days ago. He said he worked for the wrong people and got arrested. I could not believe it at first, but after I read the letter…I have never been so shocked in my life.”

  “Does anyone else know of the letter?”

  “Only Abigail…and Pa.”

  “What does he say?”

  “He has hardly spoken of it, Miss Mary,” answered Ethan.

  “Where is the letter?” Mary asked, sitting up in bed and looking around the room. “I wish to read it again.”

  In the servants’ quarters, Fiona was proudly showing her new room to Bridget. “Can you believe my lovely room has its own desk? It is so spacious. I even have a tea table. You and I may take our tea in here like real ladies.”

  “The room is lovely,” said Bridget quietly. “Fiona, something is troubling me.”

  “What is it?”

  “I thought that Miss Abigail was engaged—to the stable boy,” began Bridget.

  “She is, as far as I know,” Fiona replied.

  “But I watched him enter Miss Mary’s room this morning. I have just taken tea to her room, and he was still there. Miss Mary was lying on the bed. They have been alone all day,” Bridget said worriedly.

  Fiona’s eyes were wide. “I would not believe such a thing if it did not come from you just now. Perhaps there is an explanation. Miss Mary is too proper for an indiscretion.”

  “But Miss Abigail is so kind,” Bridget said with tears in her eyes. “She understands us because she is Irish like we are. Remember how she showed compassion to you and me when we first trained to be housemaids here? She often asks about how our family is faring in Yorktown, but now I am the one who is worried for her.”

  Fiona gently placed her hand on her sister’s shoulder. “I understand that you are worried. But we are servants, and this is not our business. We must leave it to the family to do as they will.”

  Bridget nodded. “I do hope there is an explanation. Miss Abigail has shown me the beautiful wedding dress that she will wear. I helped her to try it on. I only wish for her to be happy, always.”

  Abigail found Mrs. Price in the library. “Mary wishes to see you in her room, Mrs. Price,” she said solemnly.

  “Oh?” asked Mrs. Price in surprise. “Is everything alright? I have not seen any of you girls all day.”

  “I wish that I could say everything is alright,” replied Abigail.

  “Is Clara with Miss Mary?” asked Mrs. Price, rising from her seat.

  “She is not. I have not seen Clara today,” answered Abigail. She and Mrs. Price left the library and headed for the grand staircase.

  Mrs. Price observed Fiona in the Hall. “Fiona, has Clara come out of her room today?”

  “She has gone to Philadelphia, Mrs. Price,” answered Fiona.

  Mrs. Price was stunned. “I don’t understand,” she said in disbelief.

  “Miss Clara’s new motor car arrived today and she instructed the driver to take her to Philadelphia.”

  “She has gone away with Phillip?” asked Mrs. Price.

  “No, Mrs. Price. Miss Clara now has a chauffeur called Stuart.”

  Mrs. Price sighed. “Thank you, Fiona. Please notify me when my daughter returns. I must go with Abigail to Miss Mary’s room now. ”

  Fiona’s eyes grew wide. “Of course,” she replied. She hoped that Mary knew they were coming.

  Mrs. Price entered Mary’s bedroom. She was startled to see Ethan sitting with Mary alone in the room. She looked at Abigail, then back at Mary and Ethan. Since Mrs. Price was the only one in the room who seemed shocked, she decided that something bigger must be going on—something she was about to be made aware of.

  “Mrs. Price, I ask you here today because you are the only one who can verify something of a most sensitive nature,” began Mary. “There is a letter that was recently discovered, and its contents must be treated with discretion.”

  “I see. Who has sent it?” Mrs. Price questioned.

  “It was written by my mother,” Ethan answered quietly. “They are her last words.”

  Mrs. Price’s eyes widened. “The letter is from Maryanne? Where has it been all this while?”

  “Just please read to the end, and tell me if you knew of any of it,” answered Mary distressed.

  Mrs. Price took the letter and began to read. The look of dismay in her countenance told the others that the contents were as shocking to her as they were to everyone else.

  Dearest Anna,

  I pray this letter reaches you one day, when you are the fine lady you always deserved to be. Your father worries that he is to blame for not going for the doctor sooner, but it was never his fault. The doctor will not come for me, for he knows my secret and he wishes for the truth to die with me. When your father was imprisoned, I was poor and starving with no way to care for you. That was when the doctor found me. He said that an important lady would raise you in a grand house and that you would want for nothing. I could not give you up, but the doctor took you from me at my weakest moment and instructed the nurse to leave me to die. The nurse would not obey the doctor, and helped me to find you. I arrived at Davenport House the next day and pleaded with the housekeeper to hire me as a nurse for the newborn baby. Mrs. Price showed pity on me when I convinced her that my own baby had died and that I had milk to nurse another. I was hired that moment, and neither Margaret nor anyone in the house knew that I was your true mother. I have loved to be by your side and watch you grow. I love you and your brother dearly. I know you will take care of him after I am gone because I see how much your heart cares for him, already knowing what your mind does not. Tell your father that I love him and that he has never done a thing wrong. I hid from the doctor for years whenever he was in the house, but one day he saw me. Now he refuses to help when he knows I will die. I know I am sinning by keeping it from John that you were not truly lost. I fear that if he discovers the doctor’s crimes, John will kill him and be hanged. I have come to peace with your being raised in Davenport House. I wished sometimes that I could take you away, but you are cared for by a kind man. I could not have given you the life that he will. I hope that my family will forgive me for this truth I have withheld. The nurse who helped me was called Anna. I must call you Mary in the house, but I have named you Anna in my
heart.With my last breaths I give all my love to John, and to my children, Anna and Ethan.

  Truly,

  Your Mother

  Mrs. Price looked aghast when she had read the letter to its end. “One hears of such things happening in other great houses—but never this one!” Mrs. Price cried in a whisper. “Although the thought of it seems impossible, it would answer a question that has bothered me all these years.”

  “How do you mean?” asked Mary quickly.

  Mrs. Price sighed. “After your brother Richard was born, the Master told the Mistress that he planned to divorce her. It was going to be a great scandal and the Mistress was terrified. It was then that she announced she was with child again. The other servants and I suspected that it was a lie to fool the Master…but then the doctor ordered her to be on bed rest for months and…she delivered you. No one questioned it again.”

  “Then it is true,” Mary said with tears in her eyes. Bridget knocked on the door just then.

  “Are you ready for me to attend to you, Miss Mary?” she asked through the door.

  Mary’s eyes were wide with fear. “Is it dinnertime already?” she thought aloud. “Come in, Bridget.”

  Bridget walked in and was surprised to see so many people gathered there looking serious. She worried about the conversation that must be taking place that would cause them such distress. Mary continued, “I don’t believe that I will dress for dinner tonight. Please have a tray brought when it is ready.”

  “Very good, Miss Mary. Um…Dr. Hamilton has arrived for dinner,” Bridget said hesitantly.

  Mary gasped. “I had forgotten that William was coming tonight! What should I do?” she asked no one in particular.

  “Bridget, will you excuse us for a moment?” Abigail asked her kindly. Bridget nodded and left the room.

  “I have wanted desperately to see William. I did not think that it would be when I am in a state like this!” Mary cried.

  “Perhaps we may arrange for dinner to be served for only you and William in the upstairs sitting room,” offered Abigail. “We understand that you are not prepared for a formal meal.”

  Mary sighed. “But how will I explain this?” No one had an answer for her. Mrs. Price left to tell the staff of the change in dinner plans. Abigail left to dress for dinner. Ethan was still with Mary.

  “I will go back to the stable and have dinner with Pa,” said Ethan quietly. He went to Mary and put his arms around her. “I am sorry about all of this.”

  “I don’t know how sorry I am, if it means that you have been my brother all this while,” she replied, hugging him back. “But why did you not tell me the moment you found out?”

  “I was worried for you. I thought you might not have your inheritance anymore.”

  “Oh dear,” replied Mary. “I had not even considered. I cannot think of these things now or I will go mad. I have to see William tonight. I want to tell him everything.”

  “Good luck, Miss Mary,” said Ethan.

  Clara arrived at the house with barely enough time to change for dinner. She ordered Fiona and Bridget to carry the boxes she brought back from Philadelphia upstairs to her bedroom. Clara sighed with happiness as she dressed in one of her new evening gowns. “Did anyone miss me while I was away?” she asked Bridget, who was attending her.

  Bridget smiled. “I am sure they did, Miss.”

  “Have you seen my new car?”

  “Only from the window in the hall, Miss Clara.”

  “It is heavenly. I had such fun on the drive today. Next time, perhaps I will go to New York. There is much to do and see there.”

  “Sounds lovely, Miss,” Bridget answered politely.

  Clara went downstairs to the dining room. Mrs. Price, Abigail, and Ethan were there, but the room was very quiet. “Where is my sister?” asked Clara.

  “Miss Mary is taking her dinner upstairs in the sitting room with Dr. Hamilton,” answered Mrs. Price, hoping that Clara would not ask any more questions.

  Clara giggled. “Sounds romantic. I wonder if tonight will be the night?”

  “What night?” asked Mrs. Price.

  “When William asks for her hand, of course,” answered Clara cheerfully. “I am glad that Mary is seeing William once more. She has seemed terribly lonely this week.” The room was very quiet. Clara wondered if something had happened while she was away. “Isn’t anyone going to ask me where I have been all day?” she asked.

  “I was surprised when Fiona said you had left for Philadelphia,” Mrs. Price commented.

  “I certainly did! Philadelphia was brilliant. I must confess, I do miss planning my wedding when I see all of the delightful things that may be of use. Abigail, why don’t I help you plan your wedding? I am happy to take you to Philadelphia in my new car. We can shop all day.”

  Abigail smiled. “It is kind of you to offer, Clara. Thank you.”

  William was shown into the upstairs sitting room where Mary was waiting for him. A table was set with a fine linen table cloth and silver candlesticks, and the room was dimly lit by the flickering flames of the candles. Mary felt her heart flutter when William walked through the double doors. She rose from her seat and instantly felt his strong arms around her. “Mary,” he whispered. “It has been too long.”

  Mary held onto him tightly. “It feels like ages. Thank you for coming tonight.”

  “What a week it has been in Yorktown,” he said smiling, looking into her eyes. “I often thought of how much I wanted to come to Davenport House, where everything is beautiful.”

  Mary smiled even though she was sure she was blushing. “We should begin our dinner. There is much to say tonight, but let us keep our voices down when the servants are near.”

  After dinner, Clara and Mrs. Price walked together up the grand staircase. “I have something to show you, Mother,” said Clara. “Come to my room where you will be surprised!” Mrs. Price followed Clara into the bedroom where costly dresses were displayed hanging from the wardrobe. “You do not need to wear that old housekeeper’s uniform anymore,” Clara proudly told her. “Look at these lovely fashions that I picked up for you in Philadelphia.”

  “Oh my,” Mrs. Price replied. She had never worn a fashionable thing in her life. “You are kind, Child. But when could I ever wear these? They are rather bright.”

  “That is the whole point,” Clara said, holding up one of the dresses to her mother’s figure. “Oh Mother, this one is brilliant for you! Why, you look ten years younger!”

  Mrs. Price laughed. “Then it is a miracle dress. You need not spend your money on pretty things for me. I am worried that you cannot afford them.”

  Clara’s face fell. “Do you not like the dresses, Mother?”

  Mrs. Price smiled. “The dresses are nice. Perhaps they are too nice for me. I am content in my uniform dress.”

  Clara was disappointed. “I will hang them in your wardrobe, anyway. Then once you get used to the colors, you may decide you wish to wear one.”

  “Thank you, Child,” replied her mother. She was sure that she would never wear one, but she appreciated the gesture just the same.

  Clara had also purchased a locket necklace for her aunt who worked in the kitchen. She went down the stairs to the servants’ quarters and gave the necklace to her aunt. Catherine seemed much more enthusiastic about the gift than Clara’s mother had about the dresses. Satisfied with her aunt’s reaction, Clara headed back upstairs. Fiona met her in the Hall.

  “Miss Clara,” Fiona addressed her.

  “What is it?” asked Clara.

  “It is about the new driver, Stuart. He says he expects room and board as part of his contract,” answered Fiona.

  “Oh! Well, show him into Peter Ross’s old room. It is vacant, is it not?”

  “It is vacant, Miss Clara,” Fiona replied nervously.

  “Well then, it is perfect timing. I am retiring to bed now. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, Miss Clara.”

  Mary and William were on the set
tee in the upstairs sitting room. William held the letter and was reading in bewilderment. He carefully set the letter on the end table next to him, then turned to take Mary’s hands in his. He gazed at her in amazement.

  “Can you believe it?” asked Mary anxiously.

  “Of course I can believe it,” he answered, his gaze never leaving her face. “Mary—you look just like her! The truth has been in front of me all this while, and I never thought to put the two together!”

  “Do you mean it? You can see the resemblance?” Mary asked, her heart beating loudly in her chest. She often considered Ethan’s mother to be the most beautiful woman she had known.

  “I do mean it, truly. Oh Mary, this explains so much. Do you remember the day we met when you brought the basket to the farmhouse? I—I fell in love the moment I saw your face. I could not explain it. I always hoped that someday I would find a lady just like her. You are kind like her and you even sound like her when you speak. You are nothing like the other woman who you thought was your mother. Nothing.”

  Mary could hardly breathe. Never had she heard so many beautiful words together at the same time. She did not have time to think about what she might say next because William was leaning toward her, looking as though he was going to kiss her. Mary closed her eyes, and it was not much longer until she could feel his warm face against hers.

  Chapter 7

  The next morning at Davenport House, Clara had left her bedroom early. She wondered where she should journey next in her new car. She quietly walked into the library and found a fresh copy of the newspaper that had been laid on the desk. She flipped through the pages and observed a listing that immediately caught her eye.

  FOR SALE-500 ACRES FARMLAND