Brambles and Thorns Page 8
Rosalie led the way upstairs, and for a few minutes all three ladies were engaged in responding to Bramble’s enthusiastic welcome. He ran from one to the other in his excitement. As she rubbed his turned-up tummy, Elena wondered how she could ever have feared him. She loved him. How strange—she worked in a shop, she didn’t wear a corset, her friends were suffragettes, and she loved a wolf!
Rosalie was rather silent until Willa had retired to her chamber. She poured cold sweetened tea for Elena and herself and led the way to the parlor. “Elena, I must speak to you.”
Elena sighed. “You do not need to remind me of my manners, Aunt Rosalie. I know I should not have teased Ben about Miss Morgan.”
“It would not have been at all cruel or amiss, my dear, if he were not in love with you.”
“Oh, good heavens.” Elena sighed. “Must I hear the same speech from you that I heard earlier from Megan?”
Rosalie regarded her silently, and Elena forced herself to continue. “Megan cautioned me against breaking Ben’s heart, but I had no notion. I—”
“You were not aware that he admired you?”
“No, I was not. His behavior to me has been kind but ungallant. He has made no remark that could have led me to believe that his interest in me was more than friendship.”
“I can believe that. He’s not the sort of man to throw himself at a woman’s feet. But, Elena, the value of the love of such a man as Ben! If you could return it, how wonderful it would be for me to know that your partner in life has the highest standards of moral and ethical conduct!”
Elena blushed. She could hardly admit to her aunt that, when in future she did wed, she wanted to marry well, not throw herself away on an astronomy-obsessed freight shipper.
But Rosalie easily read her expression. “I fear that you think Ben is not quite good enough for you.”
“I-I…think nothing of the sort. I have not known him long, and to be honest, I have no wish to marry right now. I’m still getting acquainted with you and…” Tears ran silently down her cheeks.
Rosalie joined her on the settee and placed an arm about her. “What is it, my dear?”
“Aunt Rosalie, you are the most wonderful, extraordinary woman I have ever known. Right now, I want only to be with you!”
Rosalie clasped her in her arms. “I love you, my dear Elena. I love you more than you’ll ever know.”
Elena was amazed at the words she had spoken to her aunt, but most of her amazement came from the knowledge that, though unbidden and unsuspected, her words were true. She clung to her aunt and let the tears fall. For a few moments, it was as though she had a mother again, and she allowed herself to cry from the joy of knowing she was loved.
Chapter Eight
Roses by the Sea
A week after the ball, Elena accompanied her aunt into the countryside to spend a few days on the latter’s farm. Willa promised to look after the shop and keep it open during the hours she had free from her reading duties. She had begun her reading assignment for Mrs. Tapley’s elderly aunt and was excitedly looking forward to being paid for what she termed “absolutely no work at all.”
Rosalie had hired a horse and gig from the livery stable, and they trotted comfortably along the lanes toward the sea. Elena had not previously seen her aunt’s farm and was delighted to observe, as they rounded a curve in the lane, a rambling old farmhouse surrounded by green fields stretching to the dunes bordering the sea. The lane itself was edged with sturdy walls of stone garlanded by rambling roses and honeysuckle.
“How delightful!” she exclaimed. “What an enchanting place!”
“Yes,” replied Rosalie, “in July, it’s enchanting. In January, it’s quite the opposite.”
“Who farms it?” Elena inquired. “Do you have a tenant farmer?”
“No, Ben farms it. He is co-owner of the property.”
“Ben! How on earth did he become co-owner of your farm?”
Rosalie halted the horse and turned to Elena. “Your mother and I inherited the farm jointly from our parents. A few years ago, your mother said she needed money and asked me to join with her in selling the place. When I refused, she informed me that she intended to sell her half.”
“Good heavens!” Elena cried. “How difficult a situation for you!”
“Difficult indeed. I did not want to co-own the farm with a stranger.”
“And so Ben stepped in…”
“Yes,” agreed Rosalie. “He would not listen to my scruples against such unwarranted kindness. He contacted a solicitor in New York to effect the sale for him, and it was all done in a few weeks.”
Rosalie clucked to the horse, and they continued toward the house. Elena was deep in thought. Her mother had owned half of this beautiful farm, which meant that she herself would have inherited that half when her mother died, were it not for her mother’s foolishness in selling it. She would not have been penniless and dependent. She would have been a landowner!
Rosalie pulled up at the house and glanced at Elena. “I suspect you’re considering the fact that half this farm would have been yours but for the sale.”
“I have indeed. What would have induced my mother to sell her share?”
Rosalie sighed. “My sister was a good person in many ways, but she seemed never able to live within her means. She wanted to raise you in New York and give you everything…and this meant constant expenses. Your father had not the strength of will to stop her.”
Elena leaned back and stared unseeingly toward the old farmhouse. “How strange life is, Aunt Rosalie. My mother bankrupted herself—and me—to provide us with a style of living that I now realize did not make me happy. I’m far more contented being busy and useful than in sitting about in parlors or dancing endlessly at a constant round of balls.”
“Of course you are. No sensible woman wants to be idle.”
“Do you suppose my mother was secretly unhappy? Did an expensive, idle way of living suit her, or was it only done for me, out of her desire to secure me a wealthy husband?”
Rosalie hesitated. When she did speak, she looked not at Elena but at her hands twisted together in her lap. “Elena, your mother had a severe disappointment in love.”
Elena stared at her aunt. “Then…my father was not her first love? Some other man caught her fancy?”
“Yes, she loved another man before she met your father. She thought this other man would marry her, but it turned out that he…loved another.”
“Oh, how sad. Did she marry my father for love, then…or for convenience?”
Rosalie sighed. “No one can look into another’s heart, but I believe it was for convenience only.”
They climbed from the carriage and began to unhitch the horse. At the sound of footsteps, Elena turned. Ben Garrick walked toward them from around the side of the house. He smiled a welcome and took over the care of the horse.
Elena and Rosalie carried their boxes and bundles inside and, at Elena’s immediate request, set off on a tour of the house. After surveying the two parlors, dining room, and massive dark kitchen, they climbed the stairs to inspect the bedrooms. Rosalie’s was as plain and neat as her house in town.
“You have your choice of chamber, my dear,” said Rosalie. “This floor has three others besides my own.”
Elena was busy admiring the view from her aunt’s window. She could see bright green pastures edged with stone walls and beyond them the rolling, sparkling blue of the sea.
“I must have this same view, Aunt Rosalie. How very beautiful!”
“Then take the large chamber in the ell. It’s even prettier because it looks over the orchard and the sea beyond.”
They heard a footfall on the stairs, and Megan’s light, feminine voice interrupted them. The three women exchanged joyful greetings and made a quick arrangement to dine together. As they all went downstairs, Megan asked, “Miss Murdoch, my curiosity has gotten the better of my politeness. What on earth was my brother upset about yesterday after seeing you in town?�
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Rosalie looked blank. “I don’t remember seeing Ben yesterday.”
“Oh, well, perhaps you didn’t. Yesterday morning, he told me he was going to the shop to discuss the harvest with you, and when he returned, he was in a strange mood, almost as if he’d had a shock. I assumed he had seen you as he had intended.”
“No, indeed.”
“Very strange,” commented Elena. “What could have happened to disturb him? You inquired, Megan, of course.”
“Yes, but he would only say very mysteriously that he thought he had seen a ghost.”
“A ghost!”
Rosalie had reached the bottom of the stairs, and at Megan’s words, she turned quickly. She was pale and her eyes wide open with shock. Rosalie began to speak, but then turned and ran outside. The girls followed, looking at each other in wonder.
Ben and Rosalie were standing together just beyond the porch. Ben said, “Of course I don’t know him by sight, but that was the name on the register.”
Rosalie turned toward the girls as they hastened toward her.
“Aunt Rosalie!” Elena cried, taking her arm. “What is it? You look very distressed!”
Megan took Rosalie’s other arm, and the girls led her to a seat on the porch. Megan sent Ben for sherry, and he hurried to fetch it.
Rosalie swiveled from one alarmed face to the other as the girls hovered over her. She managed a small smile. “I’m quite well,” she said, “so do not fuss.”
“Can you tell us what is the matter? What gave you such a turn?”
“It was nothing, really. Ben had a meeting at the Harbor Inn yesterday. While he was standing in the foyer talking to another gentleman, a man entered and requested a room. When he signed the register, Ben recognized his name as that of someone I knew…a long time ago.”
“But, my dear aunt, why should that distress you so?”
“Because, my love, the man I knew is dead. He died many years ago in a foreign land.”
“Well, then,” concluded Megan, “it must be a coincidence. Some names are very common.”
“Yes, it must be a coincidence. Surely that is the only plausible explanation,” Elena agreed.
“No doubt,” said Rosalie.
The next day was filled with the bustle of cleaning and gardening, and the hours flew by. The aunt and niece were engaged to dine with Megan and Ben, and Elena found, as the time drew near, she was in an unexpected little flutter of nerves. She had never entered his home, and she wondered if her thrill of excitement was due to the newness of dining there, or if it meant something more worrisome. Was she falling in love with him? He was certainly handsome and had a confident, manly air. He was also uncommonly clever and well read. But something else drew her, something she had difficulty explaining to herself. When he touched her or smiled at her, she felt a sort of tingle, an indefinable sensation that made her blush and look down. She was unused to such a reaction in herself; no other man had ever inspired it.
Elena pushed aside such thoughts and joined her aunt in the parlor. Megan and Edward would soon arrive in Edward’s barouche to fetch them and convey them in style to dinner. Elena was pleased with the attention. She had dressed carefully and did not want to don walking shoes to traverse the hot, dusty lane, then appear in Benjamin Garrick’s parlor looking bedraggled and heated.
Ben’s farmhouse was square and sturdy, smaller than Rosalie’s, but spacious enough for comfort. As she entered the parlor behind her aunt, Elena gazed about, determined to better understand Mr. Benjamin Garrick by observing his taste in furnishings and plate. She had expected a kind of careless simplicity, but instead she saw a rather interesting combination of antique furnishings, displaying a fine taste, and deeply hued carpets of purple and blue. But the walls were what instantly drew her eye. Framed maps of the universe adorned every wall, interspersed with drawings of the sun, moon, and stars. When she was told to look upward, she found to her amazement that the ceilings over the parlor and dining room were dark blue and all the constellations had been painted thereon.
“Good heavens!” she breathed as her eyes followed Rosalie’s pointing finger upward, and then laughed at her own choice of words. “Good heavens, indeed. What a beautiful, magical display. I feel as though I am outdoors!”
“I’m glad you approve,” said Ben as he led them to a seat. Elena blushed and said nothing. Since the warnings of Megan and Rosalie, she was afraid to say a word to the man, lest it be misconstrued. Ridiculous! They were all friends, and she would treat him as a friend.
As the ladies were seated and offered refreshments by Megan, three gentlemen entered the parlor by another door. One was Edward Ries, but the others were complete strangers.
The elder of the two strangers said to Edward, “Thank you for showing us Dr. Garrick’s telescope. His work is remarkable.”
The younger man nodded in agreement. “We must prevail on him this time. He put us off last year, but this year we will brook no objections.”
Elena was startled. Dr. Garrick? Who was Dr. Garrick, and what did these men want him to do? She caught Rosalie’s eye, and her aunt whispered, “Ben has a Doctor of Philosophy degree from Oxford University. Did you not know that?”
“Indeed, I did not!” Elena whispered.
She wanted to ask more questions, but at that moment, Ben began introducing the two strangers to Rosalie and herself. They were Englishmen, she learned, and men of science. Most remarkably, they had traveled to America for the sole purpose of seeing for themselves Ben’s careful study of the night sky, and of prevailing on him to spend some years at Oxford teaching astronomy.
The younger man seated himself next to her. He was a Dr. Liam Garson, and she instantly observed that, no matter how strong his interest in esoteric matters such as astronomy, he liked women well enough and was determined to flirt with her.
“I can easily conjecture,” he whispered with an arch look that made his meaning clear, “why our friend Dr. Garrick is loath to leave this little village. Were I among your circle of friends, Miss Bellwood, I’d forsake my country and stay also.”
“It appears, Dr. Garson, that we have been properly introduced,” she replied with a smile. “Therefore, you are now part of my circle. I shall expect you to forsake your country immediately!”
He laughed. “And so I would, if I had independent means. But I’m a poor professor with no skills to earn money except by teaching.”
“Then you are far better off than I,” she replied with a touch of sadness in a tone meant to be light, “for I have no skills at all.”
“With your beauty and charm,” he answered gallantly, “you have no need for skills.”
Rosalie had heard the last part of their dialogue, and she turned to Garson. “It is not true that Elena has no skills, Dr. Garson. She has a fine business sense and a strong eye for design. Her efforts in my shop have increased my business considerably.”
Elena blushed to have her position as shop girl so blatantly put forth. But Liam Garson had no knowledge of the finer points of American social positions and took no notice. For that matter, Elena learned in the course of the evening, he had no interest in his own country’s social norms. He thought the whole business silly.
“An intelligent person, whether man or woman,” he remarked at one point during dinner, “has my respect and interest, be he or she a peon or a peer. Position in society is based on family and money—perhaps more on money in your country, Miss Bellwood. Neither of these attributes engages me one whit.”
“I see,” she replied. “I conclude you are not a monarchist.”
“A monarchist! Good God, no! Monarchies ride on the backs of the people. They take all and give nothing in return.”
Elena could not resist saying, “You would not approve, then, of my past life, Dr. Garson, for until last winter I was a debutante in New York, with a mother determined to marry me off to wealth and position.”
“Dr. Garrick informed us of the loss of your mother, Miss Bellwood, a
nd I am sincerely sorry. However, I’m wildly glad you were rescued from such a dull existence.”
Elena sighed. “It may sound strange, but I find myself glad also. Money has its uses, but the adage about its incapability of buying happiness is certainly true.”
Ben had caught her last words. “Miss Bellwood, I rejoice to hear you make such a statement. But tell us, what sort of life would suit you? If you could choose, what would you choose? In five years, say, what do you want to be doing?”
Elena was rather startled by his questions. The table became quiet and everyone awaited her answer.
“I…I am not sure,” she stammered. “At present, I’m content being where I am and doing what I’m doing.”
The elder scientist, Dr. Ellis Soames, leaned across the table toward her. “When I was a lad, Miss Bellwood, my father told me the way to determine what will make one happy throughout life is to ask oneself three questions…”
“Indeed? And what are they?”
“The first is, if you found a key lying in the grass, would you pick it up?”
“A rather strange question,” declared Rosalie, and others nodded in agreement.
“Ah,” replied Dr. Soames, “but when you understand what the question means, you will perceive its usefulness. But first Miss Bellwood must answer the question.”
“That is not difficult,” Elena stated firmly. “I would retrieve the key and waste my time for the entire rest of the day trying to ascertain what it opens.”
“As I thought,” said the scientist. “The key represents knowledge and learning. Those who will retrieve the key—and especially those who would be determined to find out its corresponding door—are those who are curious and love to learn. Such persons will never be happy in life without access to knowledge and a deeper understanding of the world around them.”
Dr. Soames’ audience was now thoroughly engaged, and an outcry for the second question came from several voices.
“Very well,” replied the scientist. “Miss Bellwood, if you were walking in a meadow on a summer day and came upon a body of water—a little pool, perhaps—what would you do?”