Down Jasper Lane (Amherst Island Trilogy Book 1)

by Kate Hewitt

  “It’s a busy time,” Ellen dismissed quickly. “Are you well?”

  “Yes. Very well. Can you take a stroll with me?” Lucas looked nervous, and his fingers crept towards his collar to give it a self-conscious tug.

  Ellen hesitated for only a moment. She had twenty minutes before the dinner hour was finished and she was back on duty until ten. “It will have to be quick,” she warned him. “Let me get my coat.”

  Outside the sky was a delicate blue, just starting to fade to violet, with a few wispy clouds. The lake was placid and still, and the grassy lawn leading down to it was studded with buttercups.

  “Kingston is beautiful this time of year,” Lucas said as they strolled down to the bay. “I’ve never seen so many cherry blossoms before in my life.”

  “I wish I had more time to see it,” Ellen replied ruefully. “The hospital has kept all of its nurses busier than ever. I fear the only sights I’ve seen lately are rows of beds and slop buckets needing to be emptied!”

  “You do like it, though?” Lucas asked, and Ellen just smiled. She was not about to admit any of her doubts to Lucas, or anyone. Not until she’d decided for herself what her own future was to be.

  “You don’t think I’d do it otherwise?” she asked lightly, and his answering smile was touched with relief.

  “Have you been drawing?”

  Ellen forced down a ripple of irritation. She knew Lucas was concerned for her, but sometimes it felt like nagging. And the truth was she hadn’t been drawing. She’d had neither the time nor the desire. Her head felt empty of images or ideas.

  “When I have the time,” she answered. “A few sketches.” That was stretching the truth more than a bit.

  “I’d like to see them...”

  “Oh, they’re not much. Another time, perhaps.”

  “Ellen...” Lucas looked down, nervously scuffing his shoe through the soft spring grass. “There’s a smoker at Grant Hall Saturday after next...”

  “A smoker?” Ellen interrupted, startled, and Lucas looked up from his contemplation of the lawn, abashed.

  “Sorry. It’s a college term. A dance, I mean. A social. A party.”

  “I think I understand,” Ellen said, trying to smile. She had a feeling where this conversation must be headed.

  “I’d like it if you came with me,” Lucas said in a rush. “That is... if I could escort you...”

  “I don’t know if I shall have that Saturday off,” Ellen replied. She was trying to untangle the rush of emotions tumbling through her—the pleasure at being invited and the thought of a dance, the nervousness at what going might mean for both her and Lucas, and the disappointment not that Lucas was asking her, but that she couldn’t be more enthused. But then she hadn’t been enthused about much lately.

  “Perhaps you could make a special arrangement?” Lucas suggested hesitantly, and Ellen nodded.

  “Yes, I could ask, at least. Superintendent Cothill can be quite understanding when she chooses.” She thought of her harsh words after that baby had died. Miss Cothill hadn’t changed her stern attitude, but Ellen had still sensed a softening. And perhaps going to this smoker with Lucas would help to heal that pervasive ache in her heart. Impulsively Ellen touched Lucas’ hand. “Thank you for asking me.”

  He blushed with pleasure, and something inside Ellen eased. She’d decided months ago she would not pine for Jed, and although she’d been listless she didn’t think her heart was truly broken. She wouldn’t let it be. Her malaise, she told herself, had far more to do with her circumstances and what she intended to do with her life than simply missing Jed Lyman. She would find a way to go to this dance with Lucas, she decided right then, and moreover, she would enjoy it. Immensely.

  In the end, Superintendent Cothill gave permission easily, her stern face cracking a sudden smile, and Ellen was soon surrounded by envious and excited nurses clamoring to know what she would wear, if she was in love with Lucas, and what he looked like (Harriet gave everyone a rather embellished picture of Lucas’ fair looks).

  “You can’t wear that,” Marjorie Henley declared, aghast, when Ellen took out her rose wool to inspect. “It hasn’t any lace or trim, and besides, it’s wool. You can’t wear wool to a spring dance.”

  “A smoker,” Harriet corrected excitedly.

  “Smoker or dance, I haven’t anything else,” Ellen replied sensibly, to which a cry rose from her comrades.

  “Between us all, we can come up with something,” Amity insisted, and so they did.

  The dress, in the end, was a castoff of Marjorie’s, who had plenty to spare, with lace and trim deftly added by Harriet, who possessed a hitherto unknown skill with needle and thread. Amity donated gloves—a gift of an elderly aunt—and Sally Fenwick lent her best kid slippers, as long as Ellen promised not to scuff them too badly.

  When the evening finally came, Ellen felt she was dressed as elegantly as a princess, even if it was all borrowed finery.

  She twirled in front of the other nurses and glanced down at herself in admiration for the resourcefulness of her friends. Her felt lighter than it had in months.

  “It really does look quite splendid,” Amity said in amazement, and Ellen laughed.

  The dress was pale green silk, with a lace bodice and three flounces of ruffles at the hem, which was a good half-inch above Ellen’s ankle, displaying Sally’s kid slippers to great advantage. The sleeves were also trimmed in lace, capped quite short, so Amity’s long, elbow-length gloves could be put to good use.

  She was missing a hat and a reticule, not to mention a shawl, but Ellen didn’t mind. Marjorie had dressed her hair in a loose, upswept style and had given her a pearl necklace as well.

  “Don’t lose it,” she warned, and Ellen nodded.

  “I promise. I’ll take care of everything. You’ve all been so good to me.”

  She glanced round at the happy, excited faces of her friends, and felt emotion rise like a tide within her. Her friends. She’d made a life for herself here, she realized; it had been made for her. She’d been accepted, welcomed, and loved, and the enormity and value of it hit her now so she had to blink back tears. If she left, she would miss it, and all of them, very much.

  “Ellen, you look as if you might cry!” Harriet exclaimed, and Ellen gave a trembling little laugh.

  “Now that wouldn’t do! Then my nose would turn red and my eyes would puff up—I’d send Lucas running before we made it out of the parlor. No,” she finished, blinking back more tears, “I’m just so grateful for you all.”

  “Then show us some gratitude by having a wonderful time,” Amity said, “and telling us all about it when you return.”

  “Promise.” Smiling, feeling truly happy for the first time in months, Ellen fairly floated downstairs to the parlor where Lucas waited.

  “Ellen!” Lucas stood up, straight and tall in his eveningwear, his brown hair slicked back from a high, broad forehead. His eyes glowed with admiration and perhaps a little more, yet instead of alarm Ellen only felt gratitude. His admiration, at this point, felt like a balm. “You look lovely, lovelier than I ever could have imagined.”

  Ellen felt like a blossom opening to the sun under his praise, and she smiled as he took her hand and led her out into the warm, fragrant night.

  The walk to Queen’s was a short one from the hospital, although Ellen stepped slowly and rather carefully in her borrowed slippers.

  Even in the few months since she’d been at KGH, Queen’s and Kingston had changed, new buildings constructed out of the famous gray limestone, motorcars trawling the streets.

  “Everything moves so fast,” Ellen said as they walked to Grant Hall. “I feel as if the world is growing right up around me.” A motorcar honked its horn, and Ellen jumped in surprise. Lucas chuckled.

  “It is growing, and faster every day. It’s a new century, a new decade. Who knows what could happen. The world is wide open, Ellen, more than ever before. ”

  Lucas sounded so excited, so certain about h
is purpose, but all the rapid change made her a bit uneasy. Hemlines were higher, motorcars more commonplace, and there was even talk of installing a telephone in the Nurses’ Home. Yet where, Ellen wondered, did this leave her? Or Da? Or even Uncle Hamish and Aunt Ruth? Would Seaton General Store have a telephone, Uncle Hamish an automobile? One day, perhaps, and yet it seemed hard to imagine. Hard to bear, somehow, although she didn’t know why. She supposed she didn’t like change, perhaps because her life had changed too much, too many times.

  “Florence Nightingale died this year,” Ellen said after a moment. “It feels a bit like the end of an era.”

  “Still—”

  “Progress, I know.” She smiled wryly at Lucas. “Nursing has moved on a great deal from her day, of course. It is, as you said, a new century.”

  “There are only good things to come, Ellen,” Lucas promised, his voice ringing with sincerity, and with a little frisson of nervous anticipation Ellen wondered if they were still talking about progress and motorcars, or something else entirely. “Here we are,” he said, and putting his arm around her, he ushered her into the hall.

  Ellen blinked as she glanced around at the dancing couples in the crowded room, the air hot and stuffy. The music was loud and unlike anything she’d ever heard; there would be no sedate waltzes tonight. It sounded, she thought, as if a child was banging on the piano.

  “Ragtime,” Lucas informed her. “It’s all the rage now.”

  “Is it?” Working ten or twelve hour days had kept her from learning any of the latest fads or fashions. She watched a couple dance in the most bizarre fashion she’d ever seen, the woman with her arms around the man’s neck, his hands made into claws.

  “The Grizzly Bear,” Lucas said, following her gaze.

  “I’ve never seen such a thing in my life!”

  “I could show you.”

  Ellen glanced at Lucas in surprise. “I had no idea you were such the man about town.”

  He grinned. “I’m not really, but I do know all the dances.”

  She glanced again at the couple. The man looked as if he were actually growling. “I don’t think I’m up to the Grizzly Bear,” she told Lucas, “but I could manage a waltz.”

  He laughed and ushered her towards the refreshments table. “I think I must broaden your horizons.”

  Ellen smiled and said nothing. At that moment she felt strangely homesick, wanting only the comfort and familiarity of the island and its ways. Firmly she pushed such notions away and turned her attention back to Lucas. She wanted to enjoy herself this evening.

  A few minutes later Lucas led her in the turkey trot, which was most certainly not a waltz or country dance, but it wasn’t the Grizzly Bear either. Laughing, she found herself getting quite in the mood of the thing, and Lucas shed his jacket as the ragtime carried on.

  “Oh, I need a breath,” Ellen gasped after Lucas had taken her through the Texas Tommy.

  “A breath of fresh air?” he said with a smile and led her outside.

  The night was balmy for May, moths fluttering under the gas lamps and the distant sound of a woman’s laughter floating on the evening breeze. Couples mingled in the shadows, and Ellen quickly averted her eyes from the sight of a Queen’s man bending his head towards his partner’s for a kiss. She wrapped her arms around herself, taking a few steps away.

  “Cold?” Lucas came up to her and rested one hand on her shoulder. “I could lend you my jacket, if you like.”

  “No, thank you. I’m fine. It’s a lovely evening.” Ellen was conscious of Lucas’ closeness, the way his hazel eyes had flecks of gold, the little smile that quirked his lips. He was a handsome man, she told herself, if very different from Jed. And he was standing very close to her.

  “I hope you’re enjoying the evening.”

  “I am, Lucas, thank you. It’s been ages since I’ve got away.”

  Gently he reached up and touched her cheek, his touch feather-light. “They work you too hard, I fear.”

  “Most likely.” She let out a false little laugh, conscious of the intimacy of the touch. His fingers still lingered on her skin. It was not unpleasant, but it did not make her heart skip a beat either.

  “Ellen...”

  Ellen swallowed, for surely there could be no mistaking the look of intent in Lucas’ eyes, and she did not know how she felt about it. Paralyzed by indecision, she simply stood there as he bent his head and kissed her.

  My first kiss, she thought as he pressed his lips gently to hers, his hand cradling her cheek. She closed her eyes, wanting to feel something, something wonderful, yet her mind felt strangely blank and numb. After a few seconds Lucas lifted his head and stepped away.

  He looked at her, his mouth twisting in a wry smile. For having kissed her, he looked rather bemused. Perhaps she hadn’t been very good at it. “I don’t know if I should apologize,” he said, his voice both shaky and rueful. He ran a hand through his hair as Ellen blinked at him.

  “I’ve never been kissed before.” She flushed at this admission, but Lucas only smiled.

  “Me neither.” His smile became a wry grin. “It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “No.” Ellen touched her fingers to her lips. “No, it wasn’t.”

  There was a moment of silence, broken by a high-pitched yelp followed by a feminine squeal of laughter. Lucas shoved his hands in his trouser pockets.

  “This might not be the right time to say it, but I will anyway. Ellen, I love you.”

  Ellen stared. She had suspected Lucas might harbor some feelings for her, but a declaration of love took her completely by surprise and robbed her of speech. Her mind still felt terribly numb.

  “I know you don’t love me,” he continued matter-of-factly, although the corners of his mouth turned down.

  “Lucas—”

  He held up one hand. “Not the way I love you, at any rate. I still hope that you may come to love me, in time. Nothing would make me happier than being your husband.” His face turned red. “I know I shouldn’t say that now, and I’m no good with flowery words. I keep those for the books. But... would you consider... my suit? In time? Knowing that I care for you very deeply?”

  Ellen felt a lump in her throat. She had not expected this, so much, so soon. She wished she loved Lucas, loved him with the passion and intensity that he seemed to love her. The intensity she’d felt for Jed. Lucas was so perfectly suitable for her, he encouraged her and understood her far better than anyone, certainly Jed, did.

  And she did love him... but not in the way that he wanted. Not, Ellen realized sadly, in the way she wanted. Yet could she come to, in time? Would she be offering both Lucas and herself false hope if she said she’d consider him?

  “Lucas, you do me too much honor,” she began unsteadily, and his twisted smile made her realize he knew he was being let down.

  “Never mind,” he said. “Don’t answer me now. I shouldn’t have spoken. I knew it was too early. Just... just know that I love you, and if you ever change your mind—or your heart—I’ll be there. Waiting. I’ll always be waiting, Ellen.”

  She swallowed, touched by his sincerity. Why couldn’t she feel the same? Why couldn’t she will herself to?

  Because you still love Jed too much.

  And perhaps that hurt most of all, because she didn’t want to love Jed still. She didn’t want to love him at all.

  “I don’t think that’s fair to you, Lucas,” Ellen said quietly.

  “Sometimes you don’t really have a choice in these matters.”

  Ellen gazed down at the ground; she’d got a bit of mud on her slipper. Gladys would be furious. “No,” she agreed in little more than a whisper, “you don’t.”

  She felt a sudden tension in the air, like a shiver. When she looked up she saw Lucas gazing at her in shrewd assessment, so different from his heartfelt declaration of a few moments ago. Then his expression cleared and he held out his hand. “Now, shall we go back into the dance?”

  She nodded, her throat too t
ight for words, and put her hand into his. As they entered Grant Hall the raucous ragtime music and lively dancing seemed a world apart, a light, carefree place where you weren’t given someone’s heart to safeguard... a precious thing, Ellen thought, looking sadly at Lucas, that her own heart didn’t seem to want.

  FIVE

  By mid-June most of the Queen’s students were stretched out on the meadows by the lake, halfheartedly looking at books but mostly enjoying the sudden, summery weather.

  The nursing students watched them enviously from the wards, for they had far less leisure time than those who studied at Queen’s.

  Still, there were summer holidays to look forward to, and Ellen was surprised and relieved to realize she was looking forward to returning to Amherst Island, despite the awkwardness of Lucas’ declaration and Jed and Louisa’s burgeoning romance.

  Louisa had written her a few weeks earlier to inform her that the McCaffertys had invited her for the month of August, with the Lymans’ blessing, ‘and I hope a proposal will be forthcoming at the end of it.’

  Ellen found that this information neither surprised nor pained her; she was still blessedly numb, and there was a small part of her that even looked forward to seeing her friend. As for Jed... she couldn’t think of him, or how terribly awkward things would be between them. They had not communicated since she had insulted him so awfully in the churchyard at Christmas. Ellen still flushed in shame to think of it.

  As for Lucas, he’d been every bit the solicitous friend he ever had been, and there was no mention of the evening of the Queen’s smoker, and his words of love. He’d taken her to tea twice, and been the perfect friend and gentleman both times.

  Sometimes, in an idle moment, Ellen imagined herself married to Lucas, living on the island perhaps, and it was not an unpleasant scenario. Sometimes she wondered if she could grow to love him in time, as he clearly hoped.

  She knew better than to speak of it to him, for false hope was worse than none, but she still valued his friendship and vowed that she would not ruin that relationship, not like she had with Jed.