These Tangled Threads

by Tracie Peterson

  They had barely entered the kitchen when Daughtie spoke. “I apologize for my unpleasant behavior this evening. I’ve spoken out of turn twice, and I now fear Miss Beecher won’t return to our meetings.”

  Lilly laughed aloud while donning an apron of blue-striped cotton. “It would take more than a few disagreeable comments to keep Mintie away. You think that’s why I’ve asked you to help in the kitchen, isn’t it? To reprimand you for your behavior?”

  “Isn’t it?” Daughtie asked.

  “No, of course not. Mintie Beecher is quite capable of defending herself in any circumstance—especially when she has a parasol in her hand. Why don’t you arrange these biscuits on the tray while I prepare our tea.” Lilly pointed toward a hand-painted china serving platter, and Daughtie immediately set to work. “I did have another reason for requesting you join me, however,” Lilly admitted.

  Daughtie glanced up from the tray, her interest aroused. “What is it?”

  “Would you consider coordinating our gifts for the people in the Acre?”

  “But you’ve taken charge of distribution in the Acre ever since we began this project, and it has worked well. Why change now?”

  Lilly gave her a tentative smile. “It’s clear you have a heart for others, Daughtie. You’re a good choice. Matthew asked me to minimize my activities for a while. I haven’t been feeling well of late.”

  “You’re ill?” Daughtie’s heart began to pulse in quick, heavy thumps against her chest. Her mother had talked the same way when she became ill. Two months later she had died.

  “I’m not yet certain, but we may have another child next year. Matthew insists I take care of myself.”

  Daughtie breathed a sigh of relief. “How very wonderful for all of you. Well, in that event, I’ll do my best. But I’ll need your guidance. I don’t even know anybody in the Acre.”

  “There’s not much involved. You won’t actually be required to go into the Acre. In fact, Liam Donohue, the Irishman who came in with Matthew, will be your Irish liaison. Would you like to meet him?”

  Daughtie brushed a strand of hair behind one ear. “If you’d like. We won’t be interfering with their business, will we?”

  “Of course not. Matthew never discourages my interruptions when he’s working at home. However, I’m sure he’d be even more welcoming if we took a few of these pastries for them. I’ve discovered that men are always hungry.”

  Lilly led the way while Daughtie followed close behind with a plate of biscuits, scones, and marmalade. “Look what we’ve brought you,” Lilly announced as they entered Matthew’s library. “You can put their refreshments on the desk,” she instructed Daughtie.

  “Not the desk,” Matthew said, jumping up and taking the plate from Daughtie’s hands. “This table will be fine. We have drawings on the desk. I wouldn’t want to get food on my paper work,” he explained.

  Daughtie nodded and glanced toward the desk where Liam Donohue stood hunched over a sheaf of papers, his dark curly hair falling across his forehead. Daughtie watched his arms bulge in muscled strength as he pushed himself into an upright position and nodded in greeting.

  “I wanted to introduce Liam and Daughtie since they will be handling the charitable goods for the Acre this year,” Lilly said. “Daughtie, this is Liam Donohue, Lowell’s illustrious stonemason. And Liam, this is Daughtie Winfield, a fine young lady who works at the Appleton.”

  Liam smiled and his entire face appeared to soften, his dark eyes sparkling. “Pleased to make yar acquaintance, Miss Winfield,” Liam said, reaching for the cup of tea she offered.

  His hand encircled hers warmly. She met his gaze and quickly looked away, breathless and unable to speak. He continued to hold her hand, finally giving a tiny squeeze that brought her to her senses. “A pleasure, Mr. Donohue,” she croaked, pulling back on her hand.

  “I look forward to assistin’ you with the distribution,” he said.

  “What? Oh yes, the distribution. I’m sure it will be an enjoyable experience,” she replied. An enjoyable experience? What was she saying? She felt the hot sting of blood rushing to her cheeks.

  “I’m certain it will,” Liam stoically replied. “I’ve already begun coordinatin’ a list with the priest at St. Patrick’s. Ya can send word when the items are ready for delivery.”

  If he thought she had just made a total fool of herself, he didn’t let on, and for that, Daughtie was thankful. She didn’t know how she was to send word—she had no idea where he lived—but this wasn’t the time or place to inquire. She’d get the necessary information from Lilly Cheever.

  Lilly brushed Matthew’s cheek with a kiss. “We’d best get back to our sewing.”

  Daughtie glanced toward Liam. He was staring at her, not a gawking, uncomfortable stare, but one of gentle kindness— as though he’d known her for years. His eyes were filled with a tenderness that somehow made her long to be loved. She looked away, confused by the feelings this man had stirred within her.

  “We’d best serve tea to the ladies or they’ll think we’ve deserted them,” Lilly said as they left the room.

  Daughtie clenched her fists into tight knots and willed them to cease their shaking as she followed Lilly back into the kitchen. Her fingers trembled while she finished arranging the tray of pastries. What was wrong with her? She was acting like a silly schoolgirl who had never before met a man.

  “Liam is a very nice man; quite talented, also. Did you like him?” Lilly inquired while preparing the pot of tea.

  “I think we will be able to work together quite nicely,” Daughtie pleasantly responded.

  “Yes, I believe you will,” Lilly replied, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

  Mrs. Arnold looked up from her stitching when they entered the room. “There you are, Lilly. We were just talking about the new doctor who will soon be moving to Lowell. Have you heard any word on exactly when he’ll be coming?”

  “Matthew did mention the fact that Dr. Ketter’s arrival was discussed at the last meeting of the Associates. Although they had hoped he could begin his medical practice the end of the month, he’s been detained until the end of the year. Did you tell the others he’ll be setting up his office in your house, Naomi?”

  Naomi nodded. “Yes, and of course, Ruth and Daughtie knew. The carpenters have already begun making the minimal changes necessary to the downstairs rooms.”

  “So old Dr. Barnard is finally going to quit practicing. It’s about time,” Mintie declared. “He can’t hear at all, and his eyesight failed him long ago. He should have quit doctoring ten years ago.”

  Lilly giggled. “We can always depend upon you to speak your mind, can’t we, Miss Beecher?”

  Mintie gave an affirmative nod of her head. “Absolutely. If there’s one thing I’ve always had, it’s an opinion— and a willingness to share it with others. If my sister, Adelaide, were here, she’d give a hearty amen to that admission.”

  Lilly offered the plate of pastries to Mintie. “Speaking of your sister, I do hope they all have a wonderful time in England. What fun it will be for Addie to meet all of her new relatives and visit the places Mr. Farnsworth speaks of so fondly.”

  Mintie jabbed her needle in and out of the fabric. “Pshaw! I think all this traveling to England is nonsense. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to associate with anyone living in that treacherous country. Believe me, I told Adelaide she’d do better to stay here in Massachusetts than traipse across the ocean. But did she listen? No! Off she went, pretty as you please, without a thought to what I said.”

  “I doubt there’s any reason to fear for her safety. England and the United States are no longer at war, Miss Beecher.”

  “So they say,” Mintie replied, giving her needle a resolute stab. “Tell me more about this new doctor. Where does he hail from? Not England, I hope. I could never utilize his skills if he were trained in England.”

  Mrs. Arnold took a sip of her tea. “No, I understand he completed his medical training a
few years ago and has been doctoring in Vermont the past two years.”

  “Nothing but a young whippersnapper. I’d guess he prescribed the wrong tonic to one of those Vermont farmers, and now they’ve run him out of town on a rail,” Mintie declared quite seriously. “He’ll set up his practice here in Lowell and likely kill us all.”

  The room fell silent, the women obviously unsure how to react to Mintie’s comment, until Lilly laughed aloud. Soon they all joined in, with Mintie appearing to delight in the revelry as much as the rest of them. “Let’s at least give him a chance before declaring him incompetent,” Lilly said between gasps of laughter.

  “If you insist,” Mintie replied, trying hard not to appear amused. The group once again burst into laughter.

  “You ladies seem to be enjoying yourselves,” Matthew genially remarked. He stood in the parlor doorway with Liam at his side.

  “To tell you the truth, Mr. Cheever, I don’t know when I’ve had such fun,” Mintie replied. Matthew shared a surprised glance with Lilly and Daughtie.

  “I’m delighted to hear it,” he responded with a smile.

  Daughtie looked past Matthew and watched Liam shrug his broad shoulders into a dark woolen coat. He suddenly glanced up and met her gaze while tugging his cap tightly onto his head. Before she could turn away, he gave her a broad smile and it appeared as if he winked at her. Did he wink? Surely he hadn’t been so bold, although she felt a strange tingling sensation at the prospect. Likely he had something in his eye. After all, she shouldn’t be hoping a man had winked at her—especially not an Irishman. Yet she couldn’t turn her gaze away from him.

  CHAPTER 7

  London

  Once he bid the doctor good-night, John Farnsworth stood at the front entryway and momentarily pressed his forehead against the door in a futile attempt to draw strength from the firm, cool wood. He had hoped for better news and now needed time to digest the doctor’s prognosis before returning to his father’s bedside. Methodically he turned the brass key, locked the door, and entered the parlor. Edging down into an overstuffed chair, he leaned back and rested his head on the cushion before silently reviewing the doctor’s words.

  “Ah, there you are,” his wife said.

  Addie stood in the hallway looking in upon him. He straightened in the chair and gave her a cheerless smile. “Come sit down. The doctor left only minutes ago.”

  “I do hope he gave you a good report on your father.”

  John shook his head. “I’m afraid not, my dear. In fact, I fear Father is much worse than any of us anticipated. Although the doctor is unable to explain this flare-up, he strongly recommended I cancel my return voyage until . . .” John attempted to hold himself in check. It would serve no purpose to give in to his feelings of despair. He needed to remain positive for his father’s sake.

  Addie sat down in the chair next to John and clasped his hand. “Of course, my dear. We’ll stay as long as necessary.”

  John leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, Addie. I know you wanted to be home before Christmas, and I’m certain remaining here is going to cause Mintie no end of worry on your behalf.” He forced a smile. “She’ll no doubt believe you to have been kidnapped by English spies.”

  Addie offered him a tender smile. “I’ll write her a letter. Once she knows your father has taken a turn for the worse, she’ll understand. Mintie has her faults, but she believes family should be together in their time of need.”

  “I’ll need to pen a missive to Kirk and Matthew, also. I’m certain they’ll be less than pleased with this turn of events.”

  Patting his hand, Addie encouraged, “They’ll have no choice but to understand. In any case, these circumstances aren’t of your own making. What exactly did the doctor say?”

  “That’s part of my dilemma. Dr. Adams says he doesn’t understand what has occurred. Father was making excellent progress until this sudden turn for the worse, and the doctor can find no reason for the change. Therefore, he hesitates to change the medical regimen. He’ll return tomorrow, but if Father doesn’t begin a turnaround within a few days, he fears the worst. Of course, he was quick to add that he has no way of being certain when any change may actually occur. That’s why he suggested we postpone our voyage.”

  Addie nodded. “We’ll abandon our plans and leave our return date open, John. I’ll have the opportunity to experience an English Christmas,” she cheerily replied.

  He smiled and rose from the chair with a little of his old sparkle returning. “And somehow we’ll make it a very merry Christmas. In fact, we’ll go out and do some Christmas shopping tomorrow. Our gifts may arrive in Lowell on time if we can get them on a ship very soon. What do you say? We ought to find at least a gift or two for Mintie and perhaps something for Matthew and Lilly. We’ll take Bella and Taylor along and make a nice day of it. Cordelia will be here to look after Father. And, of course, we’ll invite Elinor to join us.”

  Addie frowned, her brow furrowing into deep wrinkles. “Do you think we dare spend the day out in public? Up until this point, you’ve wanted to remain somewhat reclusive. After all, you know there are those in England who still consider you a traitor.”

  “I don’t know that for a fact, my dear. I promised the Associates I would be cautious more because of their fears than my own. I truly doubt there’s anyone who cares whether I’ve returned. Besides, London is a large city, and it’s not my home. I imagine anyone possibly holding a grudge against me would be in Lancashire, not London,” he explained. “It will be good for us to get out. Taylor and Bella are the only ones who have had much fun since our arrival.”

  “Well, it is their honeymoon. They should be going to see the sights and having fun,” Addie replied. “I do know Bella has been completely agog over the places they’ve visited thus far. She told me all about seeing St. Paul’s Cathedral. Oh, and she had a marvelous time strolling past a place called Buckingham House. They’re in the process of converting it into a palace for the king.”

  “This excursion hasn’t been fair to you, what with all this worry about keeping myself secluded. Well, from this point forward, we’re going to find a spark of enjoyment amidst this gloom.”

  “I’ve not been unhappy, John. We’ve been able to share time with your father and each other. And I know you’ve finished several books you’ve been eager to read.”

  “That’s true enough. But who knows if we’ll ever be back in England again. You need to see London before we sail. We can plan a list of places you’d like to see, but first I’ll go and visit with Father. I know he’s anxious to hear the doctor’s report. Thank you, Addie. I now feel as though I can keep focused while talking to Father,” John replied. He leaned down and gave her a kiss before leaving the room. He turned to face her once he’d reached the bottom of the stairway. “You warm my soul, Addie Farnsworth.”

  “Thank you, John.”

  He nodded, continued up the stairs, and inhaled a deep breath before opening his father’s bedroom door. “Father? Are you awake?” he whispered.

  “Come in, son,” his father replied in a weakened voice. He lifted a hand to wave John forward. The veins in his father’s hand were a cloudy bluish-green against his aged, fragile skin. “What did Dr. Adams have to say?” He paused, looking intently at John. “I’m dying, aren’t I? How much longer do I have?”

  John pulled a straight-backed chair close to his father’s bedside and sat down. “The doctor can’t tell us much as he’s not sure what has happened. However, he doesn’t want to change his treatment—at least until he has a better idea of what’s occurring. He’ll be back tomorrow. In the meantime, he thinks you should continue to rest and take your medicine.”

  His father gave him a feeble smile. “I don’t have much choice about that, now, do I? And what of your departure?”

  “I talked with Addie before coming upstairs to visit with you. We’ve decided we’ll stay until you’re stronger. Besides, Addie assures me she would like to observe Christmas in En
gland. This will be the perfect opportunity,” John replied, hoping the note of cheerfulness in his voice would forestall any questions his father might raise.

  “Having you home for Christmas will be very special.” He paused for a moment and then said, “I think I’d like to rest awhile, and I’m sure you’re hungry. Why don’t you go downstairs and partake of the noonday meal with your wife while I take a nap?”

  John gently patted his father’s hand. “You rest, then, and I’ll be back later this afternoon.”

  “Oh, I’ve simply had the most marvelous day,” Addie said as their carriage came to a stop.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” John replied as he stepped from the carriage and turned to assist his wife. “I fear we’ve traveled enough ground to have ridden all the way back to America.”

  Addie pulled her wool cape close. “You didn’t mind too much, did you, dear?”

  John smiled. “Not at all. Just seeing how happy it made you is enough to cause me to do it all again tomorrow if that would be your wish.”

  Addie laughed. “I never could have imagined the grandeur of it all.” She looked up at the building in front of them. “Oh, a teahouse. How lovely. Could we stop in?”

  John took hold of her arm. “It was exactly what I had in mind. It’s time for proper genteel folk to have their high tea. This teahouse has been highly recommended to me— by one Mrs. Arabella Manning.”

  “Well, if it passed Bella’s scrutiny, it must be wonderful.”

  John opened the door and escorted his wife into the small shop. Without delay they were shown to a lovely linen-covered table.

  “Oh, it’s so charming. Warm and cozy and not at all pretentious,” Addie exclaimed. John helped her out of her wrap, taking care to seat her before tending to his own coat and hat.

  It wasn’t long before they were presented with a steaming pot of tea and a platter of tiny sandwiches and cakes, fruit tarts, and scones. A bowl of jam and clotted cream rounded out the offering.