by Linda Tillis
Mr. Finch spoke first. “Mr. Bennett, I feel it is safe to assume you are delivering sad news.”
“Yes, sir, I am sorry to tell you of the passing of Lady Wellington. The dear woman has been weakening over the past month and passed peacefully in her sleep last night. I had received direction that you were to be notified immediately. So, sir, here I am.”
“I appreciate your promptness, sir. I know you have been a devoted assistant to the good lady for many years, and she depended greatly on your loyalty. I am sorry for all of you who served her, for she was a true lady, in every sense of the word. She cared deeply for all of you. I know she discussed her final plans with you, and that you can be relied upon to make all the arrangements. Today is Thursday, and I suggest we hold the services on Saturday, if you are agreeable. Please assure all the servants they have been provided for handsomely. I will attend the services, then on Monday meet with all parties concerned, for the reading of the will.” Mr. Finch walked around the desk, and they shook hands.
Mr. Bennett gave a wan smile. “The servants will be relieved to hear they were remembered, sir. That is always a concern when one is in service, but I believe I speak for all of them when I say the loss they feel today goes much deeper than monetary concern. She was like a mother to us all.”
The man turned and left the office quickly, but not before Mr. Finch caught the glint of moisture in his eyes.
Mr. Finch sat back at his desk and made a short list of immediate things to do. At the top of the list was a telegram to Garth Hinton. He wanted him present at the reading of the will. Next on the list was to contact the bank, not only to notify them of the impending changes but also to have them locate Mr. Langford Hardwick.
The man had already received his quarterly allowance in September and should have left the bank a forwarding address. It was now near the end of October, but surely the man had enough left for travel arrangements if he had, indeed, left the area.
****
Garth was about to leave the mill for the day when he saw Race Milford’s son ride up on his daddy’s horse. Garth stepped out to meet him. “Well, hello, Daniel. What brings you out this far?”
“You have a telegram, Mr. Hinton. Dad said what with Mae bein’ up in Tallahassee, I should probably get it right out to you.”
Garth’s breath froze in his chest. “Please, Lord,” he thought, “don’t let anything be wrong with my girl.”
Garth took the telegram from the boy. “Go on inside and get some water, Daniel, and let your horse rest a little before you start back. Tell your Pa I said thank you.” Garth walked over to the bench under the magnolia tree and sat. With shaky hands, he opened the telegram.
“All is well with Mae. Stop. Need you in Tallahassee for important meeting Monday morning. Stop. Reference Mae’s future. Stop. Yours, Myron Finch.”
What in the world could this be about? Garth considered a moment; the important thing was that Mae was all right. He’d just have to wait until Monday for the rest. He would take the train up Sunday afternoon and stay over with the Finches.
It worked out well, as he needed to go up anyway to meet with a man about some property outside of town. He was looking for some ground to plant cotton.
He’d made the decision to sell the mill to old Frank Bell, who’d been after him to buy it for some time now. Garth had researched the area between Trenton and Gainesville, deciding Eleanor might not be able to maintain the same level of business here that she enjoyed in Tallahassee. He also had spoken with the boys about a possible relocation. Samuel had liked the idea of being closer to a larger town so he could get other sources to buy his furniture. Cyrus, well, Cyrus needed to have his animals and his gardens. He wouldn’t care where he was as long as he could be near them. He had been very impressed with the Finches’ groomsman, who had a lifetime of knowledge and experience to share. So, all in all, it was going to be a good choice for all of them.
****
The funeral for Lady Wellington was a small, private affair. All of her servants and groundskeepers attended, as well as the Finches, Mr. Bennett, Eleanor and Mae, and Mr. Langford Hardwick. Reverend Simmons of the First Methodist Church of Tallahassee performed the service at graveside. The lady had always been very generous to the church, so Reverend Simmons was glad to be of service to the family.
Lady Wellington had requested only a graveside service. She was being laid to rest beside her beloved husband. They would spend eternity together under a towering magnolia tree about a half mile from the main house. As the minister spoke, each of the attendees was engaged in personal considerations.
The bank had notified Langford Hardwick of the passing of Lady Wellington.
From that moment on, his head had been filled with visions of world travel, high-class women, and any other damn thing he wanted. He had waited long enough for the old bird to kick off. As the minister droned on, his only other thought was, “What the hell is she doing here?” as his gaze landed on the girl who had fainted at the Labor Day ball.
Arthur Bennett only half heard the minister. He assumed Lady Wellington would be as generous in her death as she had been during her life. He wondered where he would go. He didn’t think Mr. Hardwick would be interested in keeping him on. He shuddered to think how soon the reprobate might go through the dear lady’s fortune. Bennett was not a young man and had never married. His only relative was a younger sister, who lived in New York. Perhaps he would visit her and then decide what to do with the rest of his life.
Martha Patrick, the head housekeeper, was truly saddened to see her beloved lady go. She had been a sharp old girl, running her late husband’s business with an iron hand. She had been kind to all who worked for her. With a quick glance at the young rogue who would probably want to move to the big house today, her heart told her she would not be able to work for him.
Mr. Finch had not told Mae her father was coming, as it would be a nice surprise for the young woman. He knew what to expect at Monday’s meeting, but he had chosen not to have a sheriff’s deputy present. He was sure Garth would be able to handle anything Mr. Hardwick might start.
Eleanor was remembering when she was newly widowed and almost destitute. She remembered Lady Wellington commissioning her to do an entire wardrobe. Her generosity had been the salvation of Eleanor’s business. She’d been grateful to the dear lady ever since.
Mae was overcome with sadness. She’d only met this wonderful lady on a few occasions but had developed a true closeness with her. They had shared stories filled with pain, anger, and heartbreak. Each had recognized a survivor in the other. The poor woman should have been mourned by a loving daughter and a horde of grandchildren, Mae thought. But who are we to question the Lord? Did not the heartbreak in each of their lives make it so much easier for them to develop a true affection for each other? Mae could only promise to hold tight to the memory of Lady Wellington’s strength, her determination to live life to the fullest, and her continued faith in the Lord, no matter what the world threw at her. Mae would use Lady Wellington as a pattern to fashion her life after.
The Reverend Simmons had closed with a solemn prayer and now turned to Mr. Finch. “I believe you had something to share, sir.”
Mr. Finch turned to the assembled group and spoke. “As executor of Lady Wellington’s estate, I would like to thank all of you for your attendance. There will be a formal reading of her will on Monday morning, to be held in the library of the manor at ten o’clock, at which time the estate will be turned over to the rightful owner.”
Hardwick experienced a flash of irritation. What the hell did that mean?
Well, he guessed he could pay another couple of nights’ lodging at the hotel, since it would be the last time he’d have to worry about his lodging arrangements. Right now he had something else on his mind.
He turned to Finch and said, “I recognize Bennett and the servants, but who are these two lovely ladies?”
“Allow me to introduce you,” Finch replied.
With a stiff smile, Mr. Finch said, “Eleanor and Mae, allow me to introduce a distant relative of Lady Wellington. Mr. Langford Hardwick, this is Mrs. Eleanor Taylor and Miss Mae Hinton.”
The gentleman nodded to Eleanor, but reached out his hand to Mae, who without thought placed her hand in his.
“Sir, please accept my condolences at the loss of Lady Wellington. She was a dear lady and will be missed by all who knew her.” As she was making this polite little speech, Mae became aware the gentleman was holding her hand a little tighter, and longer, than was socially acceptable. She could see in his eyes he was aware of this. She was forced to drag her hand from his. On a second look at the gentleman, she observed his eyes were red and a little puffy. While their condition might have been caused by grief, somehow Mae did not think so. This man made her very uncomfortable, and she was not sure why.
Eleanor, ever her protector, took Mae’s elbow and said, “So sorry for your loss. May you find solace in knowing she passed peacefully in her sleep.” She then turned Mae around, and they headed for the carriage.
As they were climbing into the carriage, Mr. Finch approached Eleanor and said, “Eleanor, Mrs. Finch asked me to invite you and Patrick to an early supper Sunday afternoon, say about four?”
“Why, thank you, sir, we’d be delighted.”
Chapter Fifteen
Mae was curled up on the settee studying for a test when she heard voices in the front of the house. Mr. and Mrs. Finch had gone to visit a sick friend. One of the maids would handle it if they had a visitor, so she continued to read. A few moments later she felt someone’s gaze on her, looked up, and squealed in delight.
“Papa! What are you doing here?” She jumped up and threw herself into her father’s arms. She squealed again as she spotted Samuel over his shoulder. “Oh! What a wonderful surprise! Does Eleanor know you are here? How long will you be staying? Where is Cyrus?”
Garth Hinton laughed out loud. Lord, it was good to see this girl. “Slow down there, girl. Give me a chance to answer some of those questions before you throw any more out there.”
Mae was swept into Samuel’s bear hug. She was on her toes when the realization came to her.
“Good golly Moses!” she exclaimed. “What have they been feeding you? You’ve grown at least four inches.” Samuel just picked her up and swung her around, and by then they were both giggling like the children Garth still perceived them to be.
Maggie came to the door, and her face lit with joy as she watched Mae giggling. It was good to see the child happy. “Excuse me, sir, will you and the young man be needing anything? We will be having an early supper around four.”
Garth smiled and said, “No, Maggie, we’ll be fine until then. Mrs. Peters packed us a good snack for the train ride, but thank you.”
“Now, Papa, sit down and tell me what you’re doing here,” Mae said as she dropped back down on the sofa.
“Well…” Garth smiled. “If I had a clue, I’d be glad to tell you. I received a telegram from Mr. Finch telling me I had to be here Monday morning for an important meeting. I already had some things I had to take care of, so here we are.”
“Well, how odd. He never mentioned you were coming. If he meant to surprise me, then he did a wonderful job!”
They spent the next two hours filling each other in on all the day-to-day events of their lives. Mae was laughing over a story about Cyrus and a raccoon when they heard voices in the hallway.
Mr. Finch came to the door, smiling. “So glad you could make it before dinner. There’s an extra beautiful young woman tonight. I was afraid I would not be able to entertain them all.”
Patrick burst through the door yelling, “Where’s Cyrus? Did he bring me anything? Is he out in the stables?” He would have made a beeline for the back door if his mother had not grabbed him by the collar to rein him in.
“Lower your voice, young man. You are a guest in this house, and please remember your manners! And you, sir”—she turned to Garth—“why didn’t you tell me you were coming? As glad as I am to see you, a little warning would have been nice.”
Garth moved across the room and took her hand in his. “Please forgive me. If I’d had an opportunity, I would have let you know, but maybe Mr. Finch here can shine some light on this business.”
They all turned to Mr. Finch. His face was a little flushed, and he had a sheepish look. “Well, truth be told, I cannot explain at this time.” He turned to Garth. “You will understand all, after tomorrow morning, and I would be grateful if you would just trust me on this.”
Garth smiled. “Well, I’m a patient man. I get to spend the evening with some of my favorite folks, so tomorrow will be just fine.”
After dinner and a pleasant hour or so of conversation, Garth used the Finch carriage to take Eleanor and Patrick home.
It was a cool evening, the moon was shining full, and the ride was not long enough. When they stopped in front of the cottage, they realized Patrick had fallen asleep. Garth picked him up and carried him to his room at the back of the cottage. After Eleanor had turned down the covers and taken off his shoes, Garth placed him on the bed and then stepped aside so Eleanor could bend down and kiss her son’s forehead as she pulled up the covers. Garth was overcome with a deep sense of pride. This beautiful woman, this accomplished, self-reliant, precious woman, had agreed to marry him. He still could not believe it. They slipped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind them.
Before Eleanor could speak, Garth swept her into his arms and kissed her, slow and deep. “I’m sorry. I have waited all afternoon to kiss you.”
She smiled up at him. “Well, be sorry if you must, but I’m certainly not. I, too, have waited all afternoon for your kiss!” She took his hand and led him to the kitchen table.
“Now,” she said, “sit, while I make you a cup of coffee, and tell me why you are here.”
He laughed. “Well, I wasn’t joking. I have no idea. I received a telegram from Mr. Finch late Thursday afternoon. It said, ‘All is well with Mae, need you here for important meeting Monday morning, may affect Mae’s future.’ So, you tell me. What does it mean?”
Eleanor became still. She turned from the stove with the coffee in her hand. She placed the cup in front of Garth and sat next to him before she spoke. “I can only think of one reason he would have needed you here Monday morning. We attended a funeral for Lady Wellington on Saturday afternoon. Mr. Finch made an announcement at the end of the services, saying there would be an official reading of the will at the manor house at ten o’clock Monday morning, at which time the estate would be turned over to the new owner.”
“All right, but what has this to do with Mae’s future?” Garth asked as he sipped his tea.
“Well,” Eleanor replied, “she was quite taken with Mae. It seems Mae is the spitting image of the lady’s only child. Her daughter committed suicide when she was Mae’s age. Oh, my!” Eleanor’s eyes went wide. “Perhaps she has left Mae some money in her will.”
“Well, we’ll just have to wait and see. Now,” he said as he rose from the chair, “since your housekeeper is not here, you can walk me to the door, kiss me goodnight, and send me on my way.”
Eleanor made sure the kiss was pleasant enough to stay in his memory a while, then waved him goodbye.
As she walked through the house checking the windows, she said a prayer of thanks to the Lord. Thanks for this wonderful man, this strong, handsome, God-fearing man, who wanted to marry her.
****
It was eight o’clock Monday morning, and they were all enjoying a pleasant breakfast together. Mrs. Finch turned to Mae and said, “Dear, you are going to be traveling with Mr. Finch to an important meeting this morning. I have asked Maggie to lay out your most grownup outfit, and if you will run upstairs, she will help you get ready.”
“What do you mean?” Mae turned to Mr. Finch. “Do you not have an assistant to accompany you? Do you need me to take notes or something?”
Mr. Finch shook his head. “No, dear. You will not be assisting me. We will be attending the reading of Lady Wellington’s will. You have been mentioned in the will. It is why I have asked your father to be present. Anything that is bequeathed to you will be under the care of your father until you attain the age of twenty-one.”
Garth had a surprised look on his face as he turned to Mae. “Well, sweetie, you may have mentioned this lady to me once, but I don’t remember you saying anything about being so close to her.”
Mae swallowed around the lump that appeared in her throat. “Lady Wellington had only one child, Lavinia, and she looked just like me. When I visited the manor to deliver a hat, I saw her portrait. Lady Wellington told me the story of how Lavinia died, and we cried together.”
Mae looked her father in the eye and said, “Lavinia had a terrible thing happen to her, Papa. She could not get over it, and she hanged herself.”
There was a collective gasp around the breakfast table. Garth never broke his gaze with Mae. “Well, I’m sure it was comforting to the lady to talk about her daughter with someone as understanding as you, sweetie.”
Mae stood, kissed her papa’s cheek, and said, “Thank you, Papa. Now I had better get myself ready.”
Mrs. Finch smiled at Garth. “You, sir, have a remarkable daughter.”
Garth smiled sadly. “Thank you, ma’am. No one knows that better than I.”
Chapter Sixteen
It was a cool, fall morning, with the smell of harvest in the air. Mae let her mind wander on the drive to the manor. Papa and Mr. Finch were talking about shipping lumber and cotton; Samuel was deep in his own thoughts, so Mae daydreamed at her leisure.