Baker's Woman

by Tess Enroth

  “I understand him, as well as a foreigner can.”

  “So, tell me what you understand. Why would he want me?”

  Adrianna raised her hands and pressed them together as if in prayer and lifted her eyes to the heavens.

  “What? Adrianna, why do you look like that? What have I said?”

  “Oh, Florence, he wants you to love him! To feel something other than gratitude! But he doesn’t think it is right to say so. I understand but I cannot tell you what to do.” She pulled her shawl more snugly around her shoulders. “It’s turning cold. Let’s go back to the hotel.”

  They walked swiftly without speaking, Florence trying to examine what Adrianna said. In her own sitting room, Adrianna touched a match to the gas jet in the fireplace and poured sherries. Florence settled close to the hearth, waiting for more words.

  “My words should warm you more than fire and sherry. It is no small matter to be desired by a man like Sam.”

  “Don’t frighten me. Just make me believe it.”

  “I’ll try. The English make accidents of birth into a system, which they allow to dictate their lives. They have principles, derived from religion, nature, history, and patriotism, and they are like laws. Allegiance to them admits few alternatives. The more worldly English often find the continent less rigid or dogmatic, and some like to live in their colonies where life is simpler. Even so, they go to some length to prove their patriotism. Adventurers like Sam live where they like and do as they please while serving the Empire. Oh dear. I am not doing this very well, am I?”

  “I think I am following you,” Florence sighed, “and may understand what you say about their system, and maybe what it tells me about Sam.”

  “He wants you with him. But, though well born, you are very young, are without family, and are not English. He is the eldest son and accepts the duties of family and country, takes them seriously.” Adrianna’s wry smile suggested that she did not take such matters so seriously.

  “So I cannot be good enough no matter what I do?”

  “Terrible, isn’t it?” However, I don’t believe Sam sees it entirely that way. What matters is that when Sam makes up his mind, those who oppose him or are critical are simply wrong- headed. But it may be difficult for you.”

  “That does begin to explain his behavior – but I still don’t know what I am to do or say.”

  “I think he will do his best to have you, to keep you with him, if he knows that’s what you want as well. Then he can have his honor and will vanquish opposition of any kind. He would not do anything to make you unhappy. Now, what do you say?”

  “Thank you, dear friend. I’ve much to think about.”

  Florence went to the window and, looking down on the garden, recalled that first night when Sam said the trees were dormant. She now thought Sam may have felt alone and old. Now the rain-wet blossoms were bursting with life, and she believed he no longer felt that way.

  “Florence! Get ready to go out for dinner. Wear the green velvet.”

  She put down the unopened book she had been holding ever since she’d come in. Sam’s sudden appearance halted her speculation about Adrianna’s opinions. She hurried to her chamber and laid out new petticoats and an emerald moiré gown with the velvet bodice and velvet bands around the bottom of the skirt. As she washed, she noticed that the walk in the park had brought color to her cheeks. Taking down her hair, she brushed it hard and gathered it loosely into a soft knot at the nape of her neck and wondered if Sam would notice.

  The answer was in his smile as he settled her cloak on her shoulders and let his fingers linger lightly on her bare neck.

  On the way to the restaurant, she felt spring in the air, and heard, in Sam’s voice, excitement, even triumph.

  “Price introduced me to Jack and Philip Barkley, and we talked all afternoon about a rail line that will go all the way across Europe and eventually to Constantinople. Just think, Florence, we might one day cross Europe by rail car!”

  “That isn’t easy to imagine, but I think it would be lovely to watch the world passing your windows and never have to find a place to sleep or eat.”

  “I do like the steam engine. An old man once said, ‘The English ride on vapors of boiling cauldrons, and their horses are flaming coals!’ He admired the drama but had no idea of the comforts that will become commonplace for the traveler.”

  “You really are going to build a railway?”

  “Well, yes. There will be local labor supervised by the Barkleys and their foremen. They need a manager – an English one, of course, and Price appointed me, then and there. I shall be director of operations for the eastern end of the project – or what will be the eastern end.”

  Although she knew nothing of business or industry, his news surprised her.

  “Sam, are you ‘taking a position,’ as I think you’d say?”

  “I’m not at all reluctant to take it on, and of course it is salaried. You may find it incredible, but I have never had any nonsensical ideas about what a gentleman may do or not do. I have the skills and have put my shoulder to a wheel or two as well as worked on plans, and there is no reason I should not accept a salary.”

  Florence nodded and smiled, thinking of Adrianna’s explanations of class distinctions. However, his exchanging his skills for money didn’t seem very different from her going into “service.” She would remember his words and use them next time he dismissed her skills.

  “The offices are at the end of the line, on the Black Sea, a coast with quite an ancient history, and I may have to see to removing Roman artifacts.”

  “I don’t remember where the Black Sea is, and I’m not sure what you mean about artifacts.”

  Seated in the restaurant, Sam perused the menu and then, after ordering, gave full attention to her questions and a future he conceived of for them.

  “It is the very edge of Europe, an interesting place in many ways. We can live in a house in or near Constanta, maybe even have a dog or two.”

  “A house!”

  “Haven’t you had enough of living in a hotel? We’ll be there for some time.”

  For Florence the house was the heart of Sam’s news. What had he in mind for her, for them? Adrianna said he wants me, but he had not said that, yet he spoke as though the matter had been settled. He made it sound like the obvious, sensible thing to do – to live in a house.

  Looking at her with one eyebrow raised, Sam said, “I have never seen you look so perplexed, Florence. What are you thinking?”

  “About a house, steam engines, a black sea. I don’t know.”

  On the way back to the hotel, he held Florence’s arm snugly against his side and kept on talking.

  “Be patient, my dear. Since I don’t know anything about the house, we’ll just have to hope for the best.”

  In their suite, as Sam took her cloak, he bent his head and kissed her ear lobe. She shivered.

  “A brandy to settle the meal and make us sleepy?” Sam rubbed his hands together, “You’re not too tired? Perhaps you would rather retire now?”

  “Of course not, Sam. I’m excited about your news.”

  “As I said, I don’t know what sort of house, but we’ll go on much as we have. However, I shall be your English tutor. Can you bear my doing that? And I hope you agree to manage the house, good experience, if you want to do it. Of course we’ll have a cook and maid, whatever you require.”

  Florence was stunned. She wanted to believe Sam’s decisions would be right for her but hadn’t anticipated keeping his house and what that signified. He seemed to speak of the arrangement as if she were actually his Hungarian niece, but something made her think he had a different relationship in mind. Or was she influenced too much by Adrianna’s words?

  The salon’s gaslights had been turned off, and Sam lit candles. As the full moon slid into view, filling a pane of the long windows, Florence felt drawn toward it. This time she knew Sam followed her and was aware of his nearness as she looked out at the silvery t
reetops.

  “In only a few weeks, it has changed. It is no longer desolate,” Sam said, and with his hands on her shoulders turned her to face him, “no longer dormant. And you are no longer sad and lost, but radiant.”

  “Oh, Sam, if that’s true, it’s because of you. I’m happy. You’ve done so much for me. I owe you my very life!”

  The words tumbled forth as she perceived that he felt he, himself, had changed. He was looking at her intently, and suddenly his arms were around her, drawing her close as he had once before. Against his chest, she breathed in scents of tobacco and Bay Rum lotion and heard his heartbeat, or was it her own? She thought if he held her that way long enough her body would melt into his. She longed for that and feared it. As she pressed her fingers into his back, she felt his sharp intake of breath.

  His hand touched her face and lifted her chin, and his lips touched hers lightly, then more firmly. She dared not breathe.

  Then moving his mouth near her ear, he said her name, “Florence, Florence, oh, dear God, I cannot let you go.”

  But he did. And held her at arms’ length, gazing at her face. Then he released her and strode to his room.

  Weak-kneed and breathless, Florence turned back to the window and helpless tears filled her eyes. Why had he left her again?

  * * *

  Sam had already eaten his breakfast when Florence came out of her room. He was sitting at the small desk with his family pictures propped up in front of him, but he had not yet begun his task.

  “Everything is still warm. Excuse me for not waiting, but I must finish some letters before I go out.”

  “There is nothing to excuse, Sam, I slept late.”

  “And well, I hope. I slept very little, so many things on my mind. But soon we’ll be off to the Black Sea, that is, assuming you agree to go.”

  “But I have agreed, Sam. How could I argue with your decision, or refuse you in any way?” She paused and looked away from him for a long moment before she could go on. “My tutor called you my benefactor. Isn’t that a nice word?”

  “It sounds rather grand,” Sam answered with an amused smile, “and you agree?”

  “Not entirely, for the dictionary emphasizes financial support. You provide much more.”

  He smiled slightly and gestured toward the papers on desk. “I must write and post these today.”

  Bucharest 28 March 1859

  My dear sister,

  My most abject apologies! I have been remiss in not writing more often, but travel with a prince has been more demanding than I expected.

  I trust that you and my darlings are well and happy. I can imagine all of you enjoying England’s perfect spring.

  As you know, Min, I have dreamed of exploring the Dark Continent and now feel close to a decision.

  Close, as well, to the Nile River, the road I mean to take into the heart of Africa.

  It is, I believe, my time to go to Egypt, to mount a small expedition. No point in returning to England in further search of a sponsor. I shall act on my own, to which end I have secured a position with a railway group.

  Wouldn’t Father have been pleased! I will locate for a year or so on the Black Sea, where I can make all preparations..

  Please explain all this as best you can to my girls.

  I miss them and enclose a note to each. You are a splendid mother to them, Min. No words can convey my gratitude for all you have done and for your continued devotion. and they you.

  I know you love them.

  Your most grateful & loving brother, Sam

  P.S. Am posting a letter to James in response to his, received in Budapest concerning Val. I am sure there are mitigating circumstances and trust that you, dear Min, forgive the indiscretions of a young man, especially our dear brother’s. Men carry a beast within, and I do not presume to judge Val.

  Pray for all your brothers.

  Ever, S.

  And a second letter to his younger brother:

  Dear James,

  I do appreciate your letting me have the news from you rather than from a stranger or, God forbid, from Min. There are times I’ve thought Val ought to marry and settle down, but I doubt it is possible. He is so damnably charming, I really do believe the women, themselves, play some part in this. I cannot imagine his forcing himself on anyone, can you?

  Being single isn’t so easy on me, either, old man, but I shall try not to disgrace us.

  I have taken a position on the eastern end of the Trans-Euro rail line because it will give me a base from which to plan an expedition to Africa. I’ll get down to the labour of acquiring equipment, and I may call on you for help.

  I could go it alone, knowing previous efforts have foundered on disagreements amongst leaders. However, the prospect of years of conversing with camel drivers leads me to wish for a suitable companion. I don’t mean to go off my mind in the wilds! I’ll send my address from Constanta. Tell your lovely Louisa her bearded old brother-in-law still adores her.

  Best, etc.

  Sam

  And that is done, he thought.

  * * *

  While Sam wrote, Florence looked up from her books from time to time, seeing expressions cross his face like the shadows of clouds on the mountains. He glanced often at the family photographs, and she envied Sam his sisters and brothers. The continuity awed her; and he had daughters even though he’d lost his wife. When Sam finished he looked up, and for a moment she thought her presence startled him.

  “Well, now that’s finished. I must also talk with Duleep. I think he’s seen enough of the continent and ought to be on his way. I have no advice for him.”

  “I’m sure you must have! He’s so young and concerned with himself. I thought at first he disliked me but I’ve decided that isn’t it. He’s merely self-centered!”

  “You’re right, in a way. He can be rather child-like and silly. He was spoiled, of course, and then came to England and lived among boys and men who assume they are his betters. He is sensitive. Nevertheless, I admit being weary of him. Seeing more of the world, I hoped he’d act more the man.”

  “Adrianna says he is brilliant.”

  “I’m sure she sees his best side. He may be not quite himself with me. After all, I am an Englishman and therefore must be hypocritical and, of course, imperious.”

  “And you’ve been so kind to him! Adrianna admires you greatly, and I think he must, as well.”

  “Perhaps. But he may be justified in having reservations about me; I have my biases. In the main, we are very different and have been too long together.”

  “He is going to India without Adrianna. You knew that, didn’t you?”

  “I did. It was no surprise to Adrianna, I assure you. She has a life to return to. She really is a countess, and a very wealthy one.”

  “I supposed so, but she is also very warm and loving, and I don’t see how he can abandon her!”

  “Oh, my dear, it is not as bad as all that.” Sam put an arm around Florence’s shoulders, “Adrianna is a strong woman and has her own defenses against men like him. I am sure she would be less ready to change her life for him than he for her.”

  Florence sighed and hoped it was true while wondering if it could be. And she wondered what Sam meant by “men like him.”

  “I’m going to post these letters,” Sam said, slipping into his coat. “Why don’t you take a look at these maps? See where we shall be going.”

 

  Chapter 7

  The Black Sea, 1859-60

  The four settled themselves in a large coach with their bags strapped on the roof and rear carrier. This time they were all in better humor than on their hurried ride from Widdin. Sam and Singh talked about the railways extending across Eastern Europe. Florence and Adrianna seemed to listen, but from time to time their eyes met in mutual awareness of conversations they might enjoy if they were alone. Florence was sorry they would soon be parting and sad about Adrianna soon parting from her lover. But her own future now hovered in her mind,
ready to edge out all else. That she would live under Sam’s roof in a situation as yet undefined filled her with mingled joy and anxiety.

  Sam had asked if she would manage his house, perhaps not knowing how the prospect made her spirits soar. She imagined suppers she would cook and evenings by a fire when they would talk, and then she succumbed to mindless recollections of his touch. She was curious about intimacies and wondered how their bodies might join. She knew she’d be shy and feared she’d be clumsy, and Adrianna had been clear about how easily intimacy could endanger, even ruin, her life. However, with Sam as her English tutor, the hours of conversation could bring them close, and she might understand him and what it was he wanted of her.

  In Constanta the carriage rumbled along the cobblestone waterfront, passing a building where the Turkish flag waved and two soldiers stood guard. When Florence saw them, her hand went out to Sam’s arm, and he put his hand over hers. Before a block of commercial buildings, Sam signaled for a stop, alit, and went through a door beneath a swinging gold and black sign.

  He came out with a handful of papers and several large keys. They next stopped across the road at an inn built on the rocky edge of the sea, and Sam and Singh got out. While they were busy sorting out luggage, Florence took Adrianna’s hand.

  “I don’t know where our house is, but I hope it’s not far from here. You must come to see me soon.”

  “I promise I will, at the first opportunity. I need to see you settled there, that I may picture you in my thoughts.”

  “Oh, Adrianna, let’s not speak of parting yet. Come to us soon, for a visit.”

  “Yes, dear, and meanwhile, trust your feelings.”

  Sam and Florence rode south from the town on a dirt road that wound up a steep hill toward the top of a bluff. On their left was the sea, and her first real look at it amazed Florence She gasped at the sight of an immense stretch of water shimmering like a tray of hammered metal.

  “I’ve never seen a sea! How far is it to the other shore? Can one go all the way around it, like a lake?”