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Davenport House 5_For the Cause

Page 1

by Marie Silk




  Contents

  Davenport House Books by Marie Silk

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  PART II

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  About the Author

  Davenport House Books by Marie Silk

  BOOK ONE

  Davenport House

  BOOK TWO

  Davenport House

  A New Chapter

  BOOK THREE

  Davenport House

  A Mother’s Love

  BOOK FOUR

  Davenport House

  Heiress Interrupted

  BOOK FIVE

  Davenport House

  For the Cause

  BOOK SIX

  Davenport House

  House Secrets

  More titles coming in 2017:

  Davenport House

  Hard Times

  Chapter 1

  Spring of 1917, Smith Manor House, Philadelphia

  “Breakfast for you, Miss Abigail,” Bridget announced as she entered the bedroom.

  “Please leave it on the tea table for now,” Abigail replied to her maid. She was in the room with her husband, Ethan, and seemed to be in the middle of a conversation.

  Bridget left the room after setting the tray down and Ethan resumed his question to Abigail. “Are you certain about this?”

  Abigail nodded. “It does not make sense to have this big house for only the two of us. I’ve enjoyed living here the past two years, but I thought—well I hoped—by now—” she stammered.

  Ethan put his arms around her. “I know, I hoped so too. It will happen again when it’s meant to. Perhaps we’ll fill Davenport House with children and Clara will have second thoughts about asking us to stay with her.”

  Abigail forced a smile. “It will be lovely to see everyone at the house again. I only hope the new tenants here are kind to the servants. I plan to take Bridget with me when we move in with Mary and Clara.”

  “Have you told her yet?”

  “No, but I believe that she will be very happy when I do tell her.”

  Just outside the manor house, Bridget was waiting anxiously near the front steps. She turned to glance at her reflection in the windows and smoothed her hair and dress for the third time. She wondered what could be taking so long. Then she felt her heart flutter when she could see a young man riding a bicycle toward the manor house. “Lawrence,” she called when he came near. “I was worried there would be nothing in the post today.”

  “Well, there isn’t anything,” Lawrence chuckled. “I just wanted to see you. Do you have a minute?”

  Bridget’s eyes darted to the servants’ entrance before she answered. “My Mistress has called a meeting with the staff and I will be late if I linger for too long.”

  “Then I’ll be quick,” he told her. “I brought something for you.”

  “You did?” Bridget grinned in anticipation.

  Lawrence laughed. “I only hope it hasn’t melted.” He reached into his pocket and handed her a small square wrapped in foil. “It is from the Hershey Chocolate Company.”

  Bridget gasped. “Chocolate? Oh, how wonderful!”

  “Aren’t you going to try it?” he asked.

  Bridget unwrapped the morsel for a small taste. “I would do anything to have chocolate every day,” she sighed.

  “If you were my girl, you would have chocolate every day,” Lawrence assured her.

  Bridget felt her cheeks burning. “Do you—want me to be your girl?”

  Lawrence winked at her. “I’d better get the rest of these letters delivered. See you tomorrow?”

  Bridget nodded. “I will be out at this time to collect the post.” She turned to leave for the servants’ entrance after watching Lawrence ride away on his bicycle. She finished the last of the chocolate and checked her reflection once more to ensure she looked presentable.

  In the servants’ lobby, the staff was just beginning to disperse after Abigail’s announcement. “Mrs. Davis,” Abigail discreetly addressed the housekeeper. “Where is Bridget?”

  “I’m sorry, Madam. I told her of the meeting today. She—she had gone to collect the post—from that young man,” she answered, giving Abigail a knowing look. “I will fetch her at once.”

  Abigail giggled. “Please, let her come in when she is ready. I’m afraid she might not have many more chances to—collect the post—after today.”

  “Yes, Madam,” Mrs. Davis replied.

  When Bridget entered the servants’ lobby, she cringed in guilt when she saw that Abigail was already leaving.

  “You are late,” Mrs. Davis scolded her.

  “I’m terribly sorry,” Bridget apologized. “I was collecting the post.”

  Mrs. Davis raised her eyebrow. “Then where is it?”

  Bridget looked down. “There was none today.”

  “I see. Then you should be returning to your duties, shouldn’t you? You must make a good impression with the new tenants if you intend to keep your job.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Davis,” Bridget replied. Then she looked up, confused. “What new tenants?”

  Mrs Davis shook her head. “You were late for the news. Mr. and Mrs. Smith are moving back to Davenport House in York County. New tenants arrive to this house next week. We will have a new Master and Mistress.”

  Bridget’s eyes grew wide with uncertainty. “But who are the new tenants?”

  Mrs. Davis shrugged. “We’ll find out next week, I expect. But enough dawdling. You should report to the Mistress at once and apologize for missing her announcement. I imagine she wants you to begin packing her things.”

  Bridget swallowed her anxiety and went up the servants’ stairs to Abigail’s bedroom. “Come in, Bridget,” Abigail said cheerfully when she saw her at the door.

  “Miss Abigail, I’m sorry I missed your announcement to the staff,” she apologized.

  “It’s alright,” Abigail answered kindly. “I was going to speak to you in private anyway. You see, we have decided to move back to Davenport House. My brother Sam is there…and of course my sister Mary is there as well. We can no longer justify the expense of living here. We intend to let out the manor house and compensate Clara for our accommodations with her. It will benefit all of us to make this transition.”

  Bridget nodded in understanding, but did not ask the many questions that were making her head spin. She had come to work at the manor house to be Abigail’s maid, and now worried what the new Master and Mistress might be like.

  Abigail noticed the concern in Bridget’s face and quickly continued, “I wonder if you would like to come with me. Mrs. Davis seems to think you have reason to want to stay here…”

  Bridget could feel her cheeks burning red. “I don’t know why Mrs. Davis would say that,” she replied quickly. “I want to go wherever you go, if you will have me.”

  Abigail smiled. “I have enjoyed your company these past years and I’m afraid I would miss you too much if you did not come with me. I telephoned Clara about it this morning and she explained that her servants’ quarters are full and she has more than enough maids.”

  “Oh,” Bridget said suddenly. “I’m sure Fiona won’t mind if I share a room with her. I won’t get in anyone’s way.”

  “I’m certain your sister will be glad to see you again,” replied Abigail. “But after discussing it with Clara, it is clear that an additional maid in her house would be redundant. It is why I want to
ask you to come with me as my companion.”

  Bridget held her breath, wondering if she could be hearing right. Her heart pounded in her ears.

  “Well, would you?” Abigail prodded.

  “Oh! Yes, of course! I just—I can’t believe it!”

  “Wonderful,” Abigail responded. “Now let us begin preparing for the move.”

  On the day of the move, Bridget waited anxiously for the post to arrive. She had not seen Lawrence since the day that Abigail announced the move. Bridget smiled when she could finally see him approaching on his bicycle. “Lawrence,” she greeted with a smile. “I have some news.”

  “And I have some more chocolate for you. Sorry I have not been able to see you the last days. My mother is ill again and I had to care for her.”

  Bridget frowned in concern. “Oh, I am sorry about your mother. Will she be alright?”

  Lawrence nodded. “Now, what is this news you have?”

  “I am moving back to Davenport House in York County. It’s where I first began to work as a maid. My sister Fiona is the housekeeper there.”

  Lawrence looked downcast. “You’re…leaving?”

  “I’m terribly sorry. I don’t wish to leave you, of course, but I am lucky to be gaining a new position. My Mistress has asked me to be her own companion.”

  “Is that why you’re dressed fancy today?” he asked.

  Bridget nodded with a smile. “The Mistress of Davenport House has enough maids already. She is a very rich lady who never married.” Then Bridget said in a whisper, “Miss Clara is a suffragette, you see.”

  Lawrence raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I see.”

  “Will you come visit me at Davenport House? I will have more freedom as a lady’s companion than I had as a maid.”

  Lawrence sighed thoughtfully. “I was offered a job in Yorktown not long ago. I turned it down because I wanted to be near you.”

  Bridget’s heartbeat quickened at his words. “You turned down a job so you could be near me? Now I feel guilty for accepting this new position. Perhaps it’s not too late to tell Miss Abigail that I’ve changed my mind, and will stay here.”

  “No, don’t do that,” Lawrence said. “I will talk to my boss and take that job in Yorktown.”

  “You will?” she gasped in delight. “And you will come see me at the house?”

  “I will come see you at the house,” Lawrence grinned. He took Bridget’s hand and moved it to his lips, softly kissing it all over.

  Bridget giggled in embarrassment. “Lawrence, what if someone sees?”

  He looked at her mischievously, then pulled a stack of letters and a square of chocolate from his messenger bag. “All anyone will see is a man who is in love with a beautiful girl. Here is the post for the house today, Miss Bridget. But the chocolate is only for you,” he said with a wink. “I look forward to seeing you soon at Davenport House.”

  Later that evening, Abigail and Ethan were received warmly by Ethan’s sister, Mary. Mary and her husband, Dr. Hamilton, also lived in the house with Clara Davenport, who was Mistress of the house.

  “My dear brother!” Mary cried as she threw her arms around Ethan. She laughed when he briefly lifted her off the ground.

  “Did you miss us?” he asked her.

  “Terribly!” Mary replied. “I’m delighted that we will all be together again.”

  “Where are the others?” asked Abigail.

  “Clara had a meeting at the town hall, and William is still at the clinic. I am the only one home tonight.” Mary turned to greet Bridget, who stood awkwardly behind Abigail. “I nearly did not recognize you, Bridget. Welcome back to Davenport House.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Hamilton,” she replied shyly.

  “You must call me Mary now,” she insisted. Bridget nodded in response. “I imagine you are tired from your journey. The maids will take your things and get you settled in. Let us have tea in the sitting room in the meantime.”

  “Sounds lovely, Mary. Thank you,” Abigail replied. She and Ethan followed Mary to the sitting room while Bridget stayed behind, hoping to see her sister.

  “Fiona!” Bridget whispered happily when she saw her in the Hall.

  “My dear little sister!” Fiona cried back. “You look fabulous—like a proper lady!”

  Bridget giggled. “Can you believe it? Abigail gave me this dress just yesterday. Boy, it is strange to call the family by their given names. I will never be used to it.”

  “Of course you will get used to it, and I am happy for you,” Fiona told her sincerely. “You’ll also love the room I’ve prepared for you upstairs. It used to be Mrs. Price’s room. I remember you saying it was your favorite.”

  “How wonderful! I’m afraid that any moment, I might wake up from this dream and be a housemaid downstairs again!”

  Fiona laughed. “Heaven forbid. Mother and Father have been so proud since they heard of your promotion. It’s all they could write about in their letters to me.”

  “I do have other news,” Bridget said quietly. “Come to my room after tea and I will tell you all about him.”

  “ ‘Him’?” Fiona giggled. “Now I am dying to know.” Bridget smiled in a teasing way before heading to the sitting room for tea.

  When the others had retired to bed, Fiona went to Bridget’s new upstairs bedroom. “Come sit on this marvelous bed with me,” Bridget insisted.

  Fiona flopped onto the bed and sighed happily. “You are lucky. I would give anything to sleep like this every night. Now, you must tell me everything. Do you have a beau?”

  Bridget looked dreamily at the ceiling. “His name is Lawrence. He is Irish, of course. I wouldn’t dream of taking a man who was not to meet Father.”

  Fiona sat up straight. “Is it as serious as all that?”

  Bridget gave her a solemn look. “I think he will ask me to marry him. Lawrence has already said that he is in love with me.”

  Fiona’s eyes were wide. “Goodness! You will be engaged for at least two years, then.”

  Bridget shrugged. “Not if Father allows me to be married now. As long as I have his permission, the court will let me marry before I’m eighteen.”

  Fiona put her hand over her heart. “I can’t imagine you married now. You must give me a moment to let this news sink in.”

  Bridget put her hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Lawrence has promised to come see me here at the house. I know that when you meet him, you will approve of him at once. Then, you can write to Father about how much you approve so it is not so difficult when the time comes to ask him.” Fiona and Bridget giggled together and continued talking into the night.

  The next morning, Clara cheerfully greeted Abigail, Ethan, and Bridget at the breakfast table. “I am glad to see you all looking so well.”

  “We missed you at tea last night. Do the meetings really run so late?” Abigail asked.

  Clara nodded. “They must if we are ever to get the vote. There are women staging demonstrations in Washington as we speak. It is important to be heard, and to be heard, we must first be organized.”

  “I admire all the work you have put in, Clara,” Mary remarked, then looked around the room. “I don’t know why William has not come to breakfast yet. He is usually the first one here, but I suppose he had a late night at the clinic.”

  William walked into the dining room just then with a grave expression. He held a newspaper in his arm. He glanced at the breakfast buffet, but instead of approaching it, he sat down at the table with the newspaper. “I’m afraid there is bad news,” he said in a low voice. He handed the paper to Mary and Ethan who sat across from him. Mary gasped when she read the headline.

  “What is it?” Clara asked. Abigail and Bridget looked at the others in suspense.

  William answered mournfully. “America has declared war on Germany.” The table went silent for several minutes.

  “What is going to happen now?” Bridget asked timidly.

  “Our military is recruiting more men to be sent to fight wi
th the English and French. But if they cannot find enough men to volunteer,” William said, looking toward Ethan, “it will no longer be by choice that we are sent to fight.”

  Chapter 2

  Summer of 1917, Davenport House

  “Ethan?” William called into the stable, approaching with a the latest newspaper. “There’s something you should see.”

  Ethan was tending to the horses when William walked in. “More news of the War?” he asked.

  “I’m afraid so,” William answered, handing him the paper.

  Ethan read the words on the page and nodded. “I guess we all knew it was coming. Abigail won’t like this at all.”

  “I can’t say I blame her,” replied William.

  “I could ask for an exemption. Perhaps they won’t call me to fight,” Ethan thought aloud.

  Samuel, the young man who managed the grounds at Davenport estate, walked into the stable just then. “What’s going on?” he asked when he saw Dr. Hamilton.

  Ethan shook his head and held the paper out to him. “Here, you can see it for yourself.”

  Sam held up his hand. “That’s alright, you can just tell me.”

  “It’s a new law that requires men to sign up for military service,” William explained. “Every man age twenty-one to thirty.”

  Sam grimaced. “Does that include you, Dr. Hamilton?”

  William chuckled. “I am German. They wouldn’t want me anyway. But if they did, I am too old for their Draft. At least while the cutoff is still thirty…”

  “You’re too old and Sam’s too young. But—I’m twenty-two. I guess I’ll go down to the war office and see if there’s a way I can get out of it.”

  “I would never help those English,” Sam remarked, beginning to get angry. “Especially not after what they did to us in Dublin last year.”

  Ethan looked at him sadly. “Abigail told me about it. It was a terrible thing to happen to your relatives.”

  “What will you do about this Draft?” William asked.

  Ethan shrugged. “I’ll go to the war office and say I can’t help them.”

 

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