Creighton Manor

by Karen Michelle Nutt

  “Enough of Violet.” Lotti raised her cane and gently poked Ellery in his midsection to get his attention. “We have a party to plan.”

  Gillian eyed Lotti’s cane before her gaze latched onto Zachary. He had the distinct feeling she’d like to use the cane on him.

  Lotti stood and took her grandson by the arm leading him away from the others. “Come walk me to the door.” Once they were out of hearing range, she turned to him. “Make that appointment right away to have those dresses made. That poor woman cannot be seen in that attire and definitely not with those shoes; they are simply dreadful.” She opened the door but before she left, she turned to Zachary and searched his eyes. “Now that you are married, you are going to give up this endless pursuit of obtaining Creighton Manor, aren’t you?”

  “Lotti…” What could he tell her? He couldn’t let it go. He wanted Creighton Manor more than anything else on this earth. He couldn’t let the manor stay in the hands of Cyrus Locke. It would mean his sister and her husband died in vain. If it were the last thing he did, he would bring Cyrus to his knees, making the man beg him to take the manor off his hands.

  “You don’t have to say more," Lotti said. "I see it in your eyes. You haven’t given up this ridiculous pursuit. Zachary, mark my words, you’ll be sorry one day. You have a charmingly beautiful woman in there. Make a life with her; start a family. It has been far too long since a baby has been around. I am itching to have my hands on a wee one again.” She smiled wanly up at him. “Now give your grandmother a kiss. I have to be going.”

  He leaned forward and gently kissed her cheek. He whispered in her ear, “Slán go fóil.” He looked into his grandmother’s eyes that were so much like his own. They twinkled with amusement.

  “You still remember the Irish words.” She became serious then, a frown lining her brow. “Don’t think you can butter me up Zachary Creighton, with our childhood game we played.” He gave her a look of complete innocence. “Bah!” she said, giving into his charm. She then returned the goodbye. “Slán leat!” Tapping her cane, she turned and went on her way.

  In the mean time, Ellery made himself right at home. He had taken a seat next to Gillian and had her laughing over some ridiculous tale. Zachary almost didn’t want to disturb them. He enjoyed the carefree way Gillian acted with Ellery. Her rich laughter floated to him like a warm caress. He had been with Gillian for a whole day, and all he managed to do is make her incredibly angry. In a matter of minutes, Ellery had her relaxed with a smile lighting her face.

  When Zachary finally entered the room, the two fell silent. Ellery cleared his throat and rose from the sofa. “Gillian, it has been a pleasure. I will see you soon.”

  Zachary walked Ellery outside and shut the door behind him. “I want you to do me a favor, Ellery.”

  Ellery knew his friend was serious and put all kidding aside. “Name it?”

  “I want you to pull some strings and find out who Gillian Metcalf really is. I want to know if she has any family or anyone…you know, special in her life.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to just ask her?”

  “I have, but something doesn’t seem quite right. All I want to do is check her story out. She claimed to be from Huntington Beach, California.”

  Ellery thought about it before he answered. “I haven’t heard of Huntington Beach, but again, new towns happen to pop up out of nowhere.”

  “Just check it out. Mostly, I want to know if there was anyone special in her life. You can start with the name Jerry. See if there is anyone by that name residing in the town she mentioned.”

  “Zachary, do you believe she has a fiancé out there?”

  “I think she was abandoned by a man, maybe this Jerry character. I want to know who he is.”

  “Are you going to see if this man will take Gillian off your hands? Because if that is the case, I will be more than happy…”

  Zachary lifted his hand to halt Ellery from saying anymore. “I have no intentions of letting Gillian go. I want to know if this man will cause any trouble.”

  “I have to say I’m amazed. I don’t believe I’ve seen you interested in anything other than your precious Creighton Manor. Obviously, Gillian is a wonderfully long awaited distraction.”

  Zachary harrumphed. “Just check on her story.”

  Ellery sighed. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “Thank you. I knew I could count on you.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He was already walking away before he threw over his shoulder, “Thank me, if I come up with any information you want to hear.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Zachary took Gillian to Lotti’s dressmaker, informing her he’d be back in a few hours to pick her up. Gillian was measured, poked and measured again by Lotti’s seamstress, a French woman named Miss Sophia. She was an elegantly tall woman with regal manners. She looked more like a ballerina than a seamstress. She even wore her dark hair in a tight bun at the base of her neck, showing off her swanlike neck.

  “I am done.” She smiled and patted her shoulder. “I believe you are pleased, no?”

  Gillian wanted to yell for joy. She’d had enough for one day. Right now, she missed her department stores back home where she found what she liked on the rack.

  “The dresses will be completed and delivered to your house in two days. I have a special material I’ll use for the dress you’ll wear at your reception.” Sophia smiled.

  Gillian nodded. No sense in telling her she hoped to be back in her time before the reception.

  “Now let me fix your hair.” She clicked her tongue. “You are married now. You must look the part. I will arrange your hair in a thick French braid and with a few pins, I’ll wrap it into a bun.” Miss Sophia also altered a gown for her to wear home. A customer asked for the dress to be made, but never come back for it. With a few alterations, it fit her perfectly. It was a pretty powder blue and made out of the finest material. It would have felt soft against her skin, but Miss Sophia insisted she wear a corset. As soon as she arrived back at Zachary’s, she’d burn the contraption.

  While she waited for Zachary, she had a chance to take a good look at the river town. She watched the people as they hurried on their way to wherever they needed to go. The dressmaker’s shop stood at the end of the street. Taking a few steps to the left, just past the barbershop, she could see the boats and ships on the water with the steam billowing into the clear blue sky. The trill of a riverboat's unique whistle echoed in the distance. Two boys ran past her. “It’s the Diamond Fair rounding the bend.” The blond, freckled face boy shouted.

  “I can hear the whistle, you know.” The dark haired boy turned to look at his friend behind him and didn’t see the woman until it was too late. He plowed into her. She lost her footing and all her packages flew from her hands, scattering around her. The little brat didn’t even stop to apologize, but continued on his way laughing as if he’d performed a comedic act.

  Gillian ran over to help her. “Some children can be so rude.” She bent down to pick up the parcels. The woman was striking with dark skin of ebony. Her eyes were just as dark and framed with long thick lashes. She stared at Gillian with an expression filled with unease.

  “Thank you ma’am.” The woman accepted the package. She gathered the rest and rose quickly to her feet. Her eyes flickered warily around before she turned and walked away. She glanced back at Gillian, a hesitant smile touching her lips before she gave a slight nod of her head.

  Gillian stood there for a moment wondering why the woman acted as if she were afraid. She glanced around noticing a few patrons staring, some of them with a look that condemned her for her actions. Then the unsettling realization weaved through her consciousness. This wasn’t her laid-back beach town, but the Deep South, 1870 where prejudices ruled their thinking. The war freed the slaves and destroyed fortunes. The boll weevil will attack the cotton crop, if it hadn’t already and the railroads would soon threaten the river trade. They needed someone to blame for their misfort
unes.

  Mississippi returned to the Union less than six months ago, and they were a long way from accepting it was morally wrong to own another human being. Her gaze caught and held a man’s who stood in the doorframe of the mercantile. His eyes narrowed with a cold stare meaning to intimidate her. She refused to be bullied and tilted her chin up in defiance. Surprisingly, he looked away first and went back inside his shop. She let out the breath she’d been holding.

  She returned to the boardwalk and out of the mud to wait for Zachary. She noticed two men had taken a seat on a bench in front of the barbershop. She recognized one of the men as Cyrus Locke. She stood just to the side of them, hoping he wouldn’t see her. The last thing she wanted was to have more attention drawn to her. They were looking over a newspaper and commenting on one of the articles. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but she recognized the topic of their conversation.

  “Hannibal, you can’t believe what it says here.” Cyrus tapped the paper with his hand. “Cannon and Leathers are at it again. They have posted cards now. Cannon’s card reports that his steamer, the Robert E. Lee will leave Louisville on the 30th of June, but will not be racing. He assures the community that the safety and comfort of his passengers comes first.” He turned the page. “Here’s Leathers’ post. He states the rumors are not true. The Natchez’s reputation as being fast is enough satisfaction to him. He assures everyone concerned he will not race any boat that may leave the same day.” Cyrus folded the paper and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t know about you Hannibal, but I don’t believe a word of this. They'll race. I bet Leathers’ boat will win, too.”

  "No, I don't think so,” Hannibal said as he shook his head. “Cannon is the one that will pull this off.”

  The two men headed down the walk still debating on who would win. Gillian chuckled. If she had any money, she would place a bet herself since she already knew that John W. Cannon and his ship the Robert E. Lee would be the winner.

  Gillian looked down the walk. “Where are you Zachary?” Perhaps he forgot about her.

  ***

  Zachary strolled at a leisurely pace, tipping his hat in greeting to those he knew, and flashing a smile now and again. The town bustled with people loading up supplies, banking, and other business they needed to complete before heading home. His eyes briefly touched an attractive woman leaning against the building, trying to seek some sort of shade. He looked away only to have his gaze riveted back to her. If it hadn’t been for the auburn hair that shone bronze and gold in the sun, he would have passed Gillian right by. His look traveled up and down her disturbingly attractive figure. The new dress fit snugly around her slim waist, and her long locks were braided and arranged to compliment her delicate features. “Hell and Damnation,” he whispered under his breath in a slow whistle. “Breathtaking.”

  He strolled up beside her and whispered in her ear. “Well good looking, did you miss me?”

  She turned toward him with a radiant smile. Amazingly, she actually appeared happy to see him. “Where have you been?”

  “So, you did miss me,” he teased. He pulled out his pocket watch and opened it. "I'm right on time."

  "Hmm, is that so? Let me see.” She glanced at his watch. “My what a beautiful time piece.” Gillian reached for his hand to see the watch better. He tilted it toward her. He liked how her skin felt warm and soft against his.

  The gold watch was engraved with a fancy scroll and there were rose diamonds inlaid around the front of it and down the chain. The face of the watch told the time and there was a date hand and second hand too. Zachary was proud of his watch and wanted to show it off. He purposely pushed one of the buttons and a lovely tune played.

  "I've never seen anything like it."

  "There were only a handful of them made. This was my grandfather's. Luckily, Lotti didn’t give it to my father or he would have surely lost it in a game." Zachary closed the watch and put it back in his coat pocket. "That reminds me. I have something for you. It's something that I have been safekeeping for some time.” He fished through his other pocket. Finding what he searched for, he took her left hand in his, and carefully slipped a small gold band on her third finger. “It was my mother’s. She was petite like you are. I thought that it might fit.”

  Gillian brought her hand closer to look at the exquisite ring etched with delicate roses. The ring was an heirloom or at least would be one day. It was something she was sure Zachary must cherish. She couldn’t accept it since their marriage was only temporary. She was going home to her century. “This is beautiful but I can’t…” Zachary gently put his finger on her lips, not allowing her to say the words.

  “I want you to have it. We have a marriage reception to attend. We can’t very well show up there without wedding bands.”

  “I hadn’t really thought about having a ring. What about you?”

  He lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers. The gold band shone bright on his ring finger. “See we’re all official.” He took her arm in his. “Well Mrs. Creighton, are you ready to meet my nephew?”

  She didn’t answer at first. She was thinking how right Mrs. Creighton sounded to her, but how could it? She shook the thought from her mind. “I would love to meet, Tyler. Lead the way.”

  They headed down the walk and toward where Zachary had left the carriage. “You look lovely by the way,” Zachary told her. “Do you like your new outfit?”

  She looked down at herself and then to him. “Yes, thank you, but I’m burning the corset as soon as I can.”

  His brows shot up and he chuckled. “You will have no complaint from me. I never understood why women wore the contraptions anyway. I take it there weren’t any kid shoes available at Miss Sophia’s?” He pointed to her feet.

  She glanced down, seeing her tennis shoes peeking out from below her dress every time she took a step. “The shoes are going to be sent to the house along with the other dresses. My feet are still a little sore and I didn’t want to break in a new pair.”

  “Odd-looking shoes, if you don’t mind me saying so. Where did you purchase them? I have never seen anything of the sort.”

  “Oh…well they were... specially made.” How did she explain tennis shoes when they hadn’t been invented yet? She glanced at Zachary. His brows drew together and she had the feeling her explanation didn’t sit well with him. She needed to distract him. The less he knew of her world the better. “So, does Tyler know about me?”

  “Hmm? Oh, yes, I am sure Lotti has brought him up to date.”

  Gillian nodded.

  “Mr. Creighton?” a man called to Zachary. He waved as he jogged toward them.

  “Who’s that?” Gillian shaded her eyes to have a better look.

  “Mr. Gurney’s assistant.”

  “Who?”

  “The local photographer,” he whispered to her before he shouted his greeting, “Hello, Mr. Norman.”

  The man reached them and inhaled deeply to catch his breath. “Hello Mr. Creighton... uh Miss…” He looked a Gillian.

  “This is Mrs. Creighton,” Zachary made the introductions.

  Mr. Norman’s face beamed. “Why Mr. Creighton that is fabulous. It is nice to meet you, ma’am.” He tipped his hat before he looked at Zachary again. “I would sure appreciate it if you and Mrs. Creighton would pose for me. The lighting is just perfect.” He didn’t exactly wait for an agreement, but ran back to where he had left his tripod.

  Zachary leaned near. “Mr. Norman’s an eccentric. He is always photographing the town for one reason or other.”

  “Norman,” she said the name thoughtfully. “Does his first name happen to be Henry?”

  Zachary looked at her just as Mr. Norman snapped the picture. “You know him?”

  “No, I’ve heard of him.”

  “You have? What have you heard?”

  She smiled. “All good.”

  “That’s not what—”

  “Did we do all right, Henry?” She waved to catch his attention.

  �
�Henry? You’re on a first name basis with him?”

  She ignored Zachary and stepped down from the walkway.

  Henry ran over to them again. “Yes, it was perfect. Thank you kindly for your assistance Mr. Creighton, Mrs. Creighton.”

  “It is an honor to meet you.” Gillian took his hand and shook it. Henry’s eyebrows rose and he tugged on his collar. Gillian didn’t notice. She was in awe. She couldn’t believe she met Henry Norman of all people. She admired his work. The man captured details that might otherwise have been lost. He would one day photograph the Omnibus that ran hourly from the river landing, the gorgeous interiors of the J.M. White and other steamboats. He had photos of wagons piled high with cotton, and the devastation caused by flooding. Henry Norman was there for all of it and he knew how to capture the moment. “Your work will one day be the most extensive collection of the nineteenth century.” She finally realized she was still shaking his hand and let go. “Look at me go on.” She laughed.

  Henry smiled with a nervous chuckle. “Thank you.” He looked at Zachary and the grin slid off his face.

  Gillian followed his gaze and frowned. Zachary stood there with a murderous scowl penetrating his feature.

  “Well thank you again,” Henry said before he turned and hurried away.

  Zachary’s nostrils flared as he turned his attention on her.

  “What?” Gillian shrugged.

  “What indeed. If I didn’t know better, I would think that you were infatuated with Mr. Norman.”

  She chuckled. “Don’t be absurd. I admire his work, is all.”

  “He’s only the assistant.”

  “Not forever he won’t be. Come on, we don’t want to keep Lotti waiting.”

  “What work does Henry have on display?”

  “Geeze, you’re like a dog with a bone. Really Zachary. If you keep up this up, I might think you’re jealous.”

  He harrumphed, but he stopped interrogating.

  They reached the carriage and Zachary took hold of Gillian’s arm to help her into her seat.

  “Zachary Creighton!” a woman shouted his name.