Chapter 15
The next morning, Charlotte was awakened by Thomas, jumping right into the middle of her bed.
Lily was tugging at the covers. "Come on, Aunt Charlotte, Thomas and I want to go out."
"Good gracious," Charlotte exclaimed, looking at the mantle clock. "It's already eight o'clock!" Her first morning in the city and she had overslept.
"Just wait till you see the shops. Grandma says we're going to as many as it takes."
"As many as it takes to what?" Charlotte asked, trying to wrestle Thomas into stillness.
"To outfit you appropriately for Boston," Lily said, doing a good impersonation of her grandmother. Charlotte grumbled inwardly. It was her day to be outfitted. I will go along with this, she promised herself, if only so as not to embarrass myself in front of Alicia's acquaintances. Or Reed's, she added, remembering how sleek Helen had looked at the Spring City dance.
Freshly washed and dressed, Charlotte descended to the foyer. She could hear any number of carriages passing outside, as well as street vendors; she knew the milkman had already delivered because Lacey was letting Thomas carry a bottle.
"Careful, Master Thomas. Don't slop it."
Oh, my Lord, I'm in Boston. Charlotte wanted to throw the front door open and head out into the heart of it. Why had she ever thought she'd be afraid? People were only people, no matter where they lived, and she had studied people from the confines of her study.
She knew why artists went abroad and why farmers stayed put to plow their land. She knew why politicians made promises and broke them as easily. She knew why some investment bankers became rich while their investors went broke. And here was a wide swath of folks she'd written about—there were just more of them in one place than she'd ever dreamt.
"Charlotte, what on earth are you doing? Close that door."
Charlotte had, indeed, opened the front door and stood looking out like a grinning fool. She closed it guiltily, glad that her aunt had been unable to see her face.
"Good morning, Aunt. I was just checking the weather. What a day! And how glad I am to be here with you."
"Are you?" Alicia asked, coming forward, still in black, once again hair piled high—even higher, Charlotte noted, with an extra layer of ringlets. "I'm so happy to hear you say that, my dear. I feared you might be angry at me for asking you to come all this way."
"No," Charlotte said. Not anymore. "I may've done the same thing in your shoes."
The older lady tucked Charlotte's arm under her own. "Come, have some breakfast. We have a busy, busy day."
Not long after, they were driving along the length of Boston Common in Alicia's white open-air barouche; children played on the grass, people moved over the pond on paddleboats, and women pushed their babies in the fanciest perambulators Charlotte had ever seen, with fine lace hangings and painted sides.
"We'll go for the worst first and save the best for last," Alicia said.
"The worst?" Charlotte asked.
"Oak Hall, my dear." Alicia's nose fairly wrinkled up as she said the words. "It isn't in the nicest part of town, you know, but it is the largest clothing store for prêt-à-porter, and it's just the place to start when you need everything."
Charlotte pulled her cloak around her more tightly, feeling for all the world as if she were wearing nothing more than rags.
She saw the sign for North Street as their driver turned the corner, and then before them was a large wooden building with nine gaslight globes attached to its exterior, ten towering pinnacles, and a huge American flag. To Charlotte, it was nearly as impressive as Boston's gold-domed State House.
"Oh my," she exclaimed as she alighted from the coach.
"What is it, my dear?"
"The aromas," Charlotte replied, "so many of them."
She spun around, taking in the busy street around her, so different from the sophisticated atmosphere of Beacon Hill. Her aunt merely stared at her, as did the children.
"Don't you smell them?" she asked, looking at the three of them. "The leather and the... what is that? Linen? And tea and coffee, and somewhere—" She raised her head to catch the scent. "Why, we must be very close to the sea!"
Her three relatives looked at each other, with varying degrees of smiles. "That's the ship chandlers you can smell, too," Alicia added, "rope and tar and salt air. But there's no time for dawdling."
They were in and out of Oak Hall in less than two hours, with packages of every shape and size—all for Charlotte—containing several pairs of shoes, an assortment of bonnets and matching drawstring reticules, a blue-gray pelisse, several pairs of silk pantalets and cotton bloomers.
"Onward to more exclusive shops," Alicia ordered.
They headed across town, back toward the Common where Thomas immediately spotted a confectionary shop. With a small bag of candy each, the children were fortified until lunchtime.
Alicia talked nonstop about the various couturiers that she patronized, and soon they had arrived at the doorstep of the first.
Before Charlotte knew it, she was in a dressing room with a shop girl who was pinning and fitting her with a linen Dolly Varden dress, its pink and mauve flowered overskirt—attached to the bodice and draped up elegantly behind her at the bustle—was left open from her waist down to show off the light pink underskirt.
This outfit was approved by her aunt and then Charlotte was stripped down and redressed in a simple cream bodice and skirt.
"This is a surprise," she said turning to her aunt, thinking the simplicity was much more her style, when with a flourish, the shop girl presented her with a turquoise blue silk-satin jacket.
"I'm not sure," Charlotte protested but then stood back and looked in the mirror at the neat vertical pleats and fitted waist. She touched the deep aqua-colored glass buttons marching down the front. The long tight sleeves with their puffed shoulders and matching grosgrain ribbons and bows at the cuff showed exquisite workmanship. And the color set off her coppery hair to perfection.
What could top this? she wondered. She found out in another minute, dressed in a jacket bodice and matching skirt in the softest chocolate brown satin. It was the latest fashion for daytime, and her aunt nodded approvingly. She was made to try on a similar ensemble in dove gray.
"One more shop," Alicia said.
Charlotte blanched. "I think I have more than enough."
"For day time, perhaps, but now you need more formal wear, dear."
Alicia was greeted by Madame Merrianne, the owner, with a dazzling smile and a soft chair. Charlotte gaped at her collection: satin ball gowns, daringly cut, and gossamer silk Princess dresses hung on every available dressmaker's dummy.
While Charlotte and Lily looked wonderingly at a gown covered in peacock feathers of the brightest hues, Alicia consulted with Madame Merrianne, who then ushered Charlotte into a fitting room. She liked everything she put on, and soon her aunt had chosen two of the loveliest creations—one in black satin and one in a warm amber organdie that complimented Charlotte's hair.
"One more," said her aunt.
When Charlotte put on the last gown, she smiled at the image of herself in the mirror. The indigo satin, shot through with golden threads, clung all the way down over her slim hips. Turning sideways, she gave a wiggle and watched the folds of fabric hooked to the shapely bustle sway suggestively. It was different, with no bows and little adornment.
She thought this one the best and judging by the nod of her aunt and the "ooh" from Lily as she walked out into the shop, they did, too.
At last, they were done. She was deeply in her aunt's debt, but so be it. Imagining Reed's face when he saw her looking every inch as stylish as Helen Belgrave made it quite worthwhile.
* * *
Home on Chestnut Street, Charlotte watched Gerald and the driver staggering under the load of her parcels. Bridget's eyes were gleaming, and Charlotte knew the maid couldn't wait to see the new attire.
"We'll get all this put away," Charlotte said, gesturing for
Bridget to come with her.
Alicia paused on her way to the kitchen to order pound cake and lemon puffs from the cook. "You will come down for tea."
It was not a question.
"Before then, I expect." Charlotte had not forgotten the dreaded tea with Helen, not for a moment all day, but she was determined not to allow her anxiety to run amok. Letting Bridget try on her new bonnet, they were soon laughing and wondering aloud at how all the new clothes were ever going to fit in the wardrobe and chest of drawers.
Bridget heard the bell before Charlotte did.
"That'll be your company, miss," she said, with the same Irish cadence as Lacey.
"Not my company," Charlotte muttered, putting down the new reticule with amber and mauve beading. She thought she knew what it felt like to be a lamb going to slaughter. Except worse, because she knew what awaited her.
She took a look at herself in her mirror.
"Oh, you look fine, miss."
"I should have taken the time to change into something new," Charlotte said, smoothing down her tan skirt and matching bodice. "Never mind now. Thank you for all your help, Bridget."
The girl fairly turned pink with pleasure and ran out ahead of Charlotte.
Going down the stairs a bit more slowly than Bridget, she could tell that Thomas and Lily had come in from the garden and beat her to the parlor.
"The princess," she heard Thomas exclaim and quickened her steps. Too late. She entered the doorway in time to see him bound onto the sofa where Helen Belgrave sat, stylishly draped in a figure-fitting, burgundy silk gown.
"Stop that," Helen cried, an expression of horror marring her attractive features as he touched the sleeve of her dress with muddied fingers, fresh from digging up some treasure. Charlotte caught the frown that crossed her aunt's face. Evidently, they were both realizing that Helen Belgrave did not care for children.
Helen managed to rearrange her features into a neutral mask, however, as Lily stepped forward and took her brother by the hand, hauling him off the sofa.
"Children," Charlotte called them to her, sincerely hoping she hadn't had Helen's horrified look on her own face when Reed first presented her to Thomas and Lily. "Say good day to Mr. Malloy's friend and then go get washed up. I'm sure cook will have a treat for you in the kitchen."
They barely mumbled to Helen before they ran down the passage.
"So energetic," Helen said, taking the cup of tea that Alicia offered.
"Mm," Charlotte smiled and helped herself to a lemon puff. "Isn't it wonderful?"
"I must say," Alicia added, "that I only had my Ann to raise, and she was rather less enthusiastic than Thomas, but I do love having my family in the house again."
Her smile, to Charlotte, seemed completely genuine, and she couldn't help but feel warmed.
"That reminds me," Alicia continued, "I've contracted the children's former governess that Ann used. You can tell them that they'll see Miss Hunnewell by the end of the week."
Charlotte would certainly ask them if they wanted to see Miss Hunnewell, but she intended to examine the woman and her lessons carefully, for she would brook no ill-tempered, closed-minded governess for Lily and Thomas.
"But as for you, Miss Sanborn," Helen remarked, turning to face her, "you must take it all as an enormous disruption to the quiet literary life you had. It seems that life suited you perfectly."
Charlotte sat at the other end of the sofa, pausing to pick up a cup and saucer. Was this a trap? What game was Helen playing?
"I liked living in Spring City," Charlotte said carefully, "but I find I am also thoroughly enjoying Boston. Of course, I've only been here a day."
"And raising the children doesn't give you pause?"
Charlotte frowned. She thought they'd be talking about her unseemly behavior, dancing in the barn and letting Reed stay in her house. This was too easy.
"Of course, I wondered initially if I was up to the task," she turned to take in her aunt, "even though Ann, their mother, had chosen me. I was flattered but nervous."
Alicia nodded, as if she understood how that would be.
"But after spending even a small amount of time with my cousin's children, they totally captured my heart."
Helen seemed to be shaking her head but turned it into a nod of agreement.
"I see. Then, about your being a fit guardian, about your behavior," Helen started, but Charlotte cut her off.
"I know what you're going to say, Mrs. Belgrave. I know you have already mentioned to my aunt your concerns."
Helen had the grace to look discomfited, and Alicia gazed down at her tea and stirred absently.
"But things are different in Spring City," Charlotte continued.
"Morals are morals everywhere," Alicia piped in.
"Of course," Charlotte agreed. "And I consider myself a highly moral individual, raised by decent parents."
"There can be no doubt that my sister, your mother, was above reproach in that area," Alicia said.
"Well then—"
"But your father," Alicia continued. "His parents were dead when he met my sister and the Sanborns were not known to our family at that time. And they have all died out."
"Except for me," Charlotte said, "and my brother."
"I didn't know you had a brother," Helen said, and Charlotte could just about see the wheels turning in her head. Perhaps she intended to try to dig up some dirt on Thaddeus, too.
"To the topic at hand," Charlotte said, turning to Alicia, "my father was a good man, a quiet man, who neither drank nor smoked nor gambled. And he loved my mother."
"Your parents aside," Helen interrupted this list of virtues, "it is your suitability to raise children that is in question."
"Really? By you?" Charlotte asked, amazed at her gall.
"Of course not. It has nothing to do with me." Helen's face colored, and Charlotte wondered just how eager she'd be to finish her cup of tea if Charlotte mentioned Helen's questionable arrangement with Reed. But Helen was not yet scared off.
"I just thought your aunt would want what's best for her grandchildren, and I thought I saw behavior that was more appropriate for a single woman than a mother."
"For example?" Go on, Charlotte thought, I dare you.
"I could not help but notice that you had a single gentleman staying with you."
She dared! Alicia set her teacup and saucer down with a clank. Apparently, they had gone beyond whether she'd danced indiscriminately at Drake's barn and moved right on to the crux of the matter.
"Let's not play games, Mrs. Belgrave," Charlotte said more plainly than she had at first intended. But, good God, she would not be brought down by one such as Helen Belgrave, who didn't mind sharing her favors for nothing more than a vague understanding. At least Charlotte had given herself to the man to whom she'd also given her heart, no matter how rash that might have been.
"Aunt Alicia, the only man ever to stay in my house since my brother left was Mr. Reed Malloy."
Alicia gave a notably loud gasp, and Charlotte hurried on. "But it was out of necessity. He would not leave those children with me unless he was sure I was capable."
"Why didn't he stay in town at a hotel?"
"Yes, why?" echoed Helen. "The accommodations were reasonably adequate." She looked at Charlotte over the top of her teacup and added, "They fulfilled all my needs."
Charlotte coughed. "Because Thomas was having nightmares, and Lily was scared of the move," she said, not untruthfully.
"The children were there to chaperone, and my neighbor, a doctor's wife, dropped by regularly," she added for good measure. "In any case, Mrs. Belgrave, though you and I are unknown to each other, you aren't questioning the behaviors of your own fiancé, are you?"
Charlotte saw Helen curl her left hand in a ball in her lap, hiding the lack of a ring. But she didn't have to answer before Alicia stepped in.
"It was wrong of you, Charlotte. No matter the character of the man, you must think of your own reputation. I am s
ure my sister would not have approved." She clucked her tongue and shook her head. "It's actually worse than I thought. I believed we were only talking of a dance and your spirited display with not one but two men."
Alicia looked to Helen for confirmation. Helen only nodded, seemingly subdued by the whole discussion.
Charlotte addressed her aunt. "I wish you wouldn't trouble yourself so. Spring City is not Boston; it is much more," she searched for the right word, "informal. In any case, Aunt, I can tell you this, I would never do anything to harm Lily and Thomas. And what's done is done."
"What's done is done," Helen repeated softly and then looked straight into Charlotte's eyes. She couldn't help blushing, and she was certain, in that instant, that Helen knew for sure what she and Reed had done.
Helen stood up abruptly. "Thank you for an interesting afternoon, Mrs. Randall. I hope it was not too stressful for you."
"No, my dear. We shall do it again, I'm sure."
Charlotte was unsure of the protocol. Should she be the one to show Helen to the door? Where was Gerald? Charlotte followed her into the foyer.
At the door, Helen paused to adjust her hat and slip on her gloves.
"When are you returning to Colorado?" she asked without preamble.
"At present, I have made no plans to return."
"Then I suggest that you make some." And she yanked the door open and stomped down the front steps.
Charlotte watched Helen's swaying bustle as she sashayed to her carriage and was helped in by her driver. Blazes! Charlotte thought, it seemed as if she'd just made a more serious enemy than she'd had before.
Chapter 16
When the calling card first arrived, embossed with a large gold F, Charlotte thought nothing of it. A number of them had been dropped off the previous day. At least superficially, people were interested in the long-lost branch of the Randall family.
Charlotte chalked it up to social boredom, but she also felt the tiniest bit flattered at being the object of so much curiosity.
Still no word from Reed, however. She tossed the latest card down on the table in the hall and went in to breakfast. It was only when Gerald brought the cards to Alicia on a silver tray after breakfast that Charlotte learned to whom the burnished letter belonged.
The Defiant Hearts Series Box Set Page 25