Banished Love (7 page)

“I know, Clarissa, but she is having more trouble managing stairs, and train travel is becoming difficult.”

I continued to think about Aunt Betsy, the middle sister between my mama and Aunt Matilda. As a young woman, she had made a brilliant match and married a very wealthy man handpicked for her by her father. However, her one dream had been to have children and a family of her own, a dream that remained unfulfilled. Instead, she had showered her love on her nieces and nephews. I still saw sadness and a sense of wistfulness in her eyes at times, especially when she watched us interact. Uncle Tobias was a kind man, although he appeared somewhat distant, emotionally and physically. I rarely saw them together, and I never saw them hold hands or embrace in any way.

“Ah, here we are then,” Uncle Martin said. I glanced at the gray stone building, a four-story warehouse with glass windows fronting the street. A closed outer doorway was at the left of the building. “Let’s hope the front door is open.” He pushed open the outer door, motioning for me to enter.

I stood uncertainly inside the dark, dreary hallway, unsure where to go.

“Up the stairs, Rissa,” Uncle Martin encouraged. I stumbled over the first step but righted myself quickly and rapidly ascended to the second floor. I noted another set of stairs leading to a third floor and glanced at Uncle Martin. “Just one more set of stairs!” Uncle Martin called out.

I sighed, turning toward the stairs, clomping up them gracelessly. I was breathless as I arrived at the top. The miniscule landing had one closed doorway and a tiny window. I wandered to it, looking out at the view. “I wish we could see the harbor,” I murmured, but realized Uncle Martin was not paying attention to me. I looked down to watch the people on the street below.

Uncle Martin knocked on the door, and someone opened it. I stiffened when I heard a familiar baritone answer. I whirled around. “Mr. McLeod!” I gasped, eyes opened wide, mouth slightly agape. I quickly closed my mouth but continued to hold Gabriel’s gaze.

“Miss,” he said toward me, eyes twinkling with humor. “I had not thought to see you, ah, so soon,” he said. “Mr. Russell, always a pleasure.” He turned toward my uncle, shaking his hand. “Please come into my workshop.” He stepped back, inviting us in.

Uncle Martin turned to Gabriel. “You remember my niece, Miss Sullivan, Gabriel?”

He smiled, murmuring, “How could I forget?” He gently massaged the back of his head. I blushed, though in truth felt relief as he appeared much better today than two days ago.

“Are you improved, sir?” I asked.

“Yes, miss. I am much improved,” he said. He continued to watch me intensely, finally seeming to remember Uncle Martin and glanced at him to include him in the conversation.

“It is a pleasure to see you, sir, though I had not thought to see you at my workshop again so soon,” Gabriel admitted. “I assure you I will return to your store to finish the display tomorrow.” He appeared nervous, rubbing the sides of his faded black pants with his hands.

“Never fear, Gabriel,” Uncle Martin replied, waving his hat to show he was unconcerned. “I know you will finish that display case. It’s that I have another, a secret project, in mind and wanted to discuss it with you privately.”

Gabriel appeared puzzled, pointedly looking toward me.

“Ah, yes, and I shall need the assistance of my niece.”

As I listened to their conversation, my glance took in various saws, a sawhorse and numerous wooden contraptions. A variety of tools hung along one wall within easy reach of what appeared to be a workbench. I slowly meandered toward it, wondering at the numerous holes along the front. The table was tall, hitting Gabriel at midarm and looked to be over six feet long. The left front had drawers at the top with cabinets beneath. The right-hand side was open with a few planks of wood stored below.

“What is it that is such a secret, sir?” Gabriel asked, leaning against another high table, arms crossed, curiosity lighting his expression.

“I need a handsomely made, finely carved piece for my daughter for her wedding,” Uncle Martin said. “When I saw your display, I thought to myself you were the man for the job.” He raised his eyebrows as though expecting Gabriel to disagree. When Gabriel merely continued to watch him, Uncle Martin resumed. “I am thinking a sideboard, in mahogany with rosewood inlay. Something simple, yet spectacular.”

“Simple, yet spectacular,” Gabriel mused, looking toward me. I met his gaze and then turned away. He shook his head quickly. “Do you have any other ideas about the piece? Do you know the size of the room it will be in?”

Gabriel strode over to a dust-covered draft table, picking up books and odd pieces of wood until he found a blank sheet of paper. He blew on it to remove the dust, found a pencil and turned toward my uncle.

“If you would come over here, sir,” Gabriel said, hastily clearing off a pile of wood, pulling out a ruler to begin a rough drawing.

I inched closer, fascinated to see him at work. He deftly sketched a rectangular sideboard with three long drawers at the bottom. At the top of the base piece, there were three small drawers in a row.

“I imagine the long drawers on bottom are good for linens ’n’ things,” he said. “And the smaller drawers for silver and other dining room necessities. I should think you’d want them lined with felt.”

“You disagree, miss?” Gabriel asked. He looked at the beginnings of the rough sketch with a critical eye.

“No, not at all,” I replied. “I think it is a good design.”

“Yes, good, but not spectacular,” he mused, continuing to sketch. “I envision a back panel with small shelves on either side leading up to a large shelf along the top. This is where you could display family heirlooms or important china.” He continued to sketch, bringing his words to life. “If you want it simple, I would not carve much into it but allow the rich mahogany to be the main decoration. I would use a minimal amount of molding.” He finished the picture with a small flourish.

I studied the drawing, envisioning the furniture in my dining room—my imagined dining room—and felt pleasure at the thought of having such a grand piece. I tilted my head to one side, trying to find a way to improve upon the design. “I don’t know what I would add,” I admitted.

“It seems lovely to me,” Uncle Martin said.

Gabriel nodded, pleased with the design. “Well, it should be a pretty piece,” he agreed. “When do you need it?”

“Mid-June,” Uncle replied. “It’s a gift to my daughter and her new husband. I want it to be a secret,” he said. He turned to me, impressing upon me his last words.

I nodded my agreement.

“I should have just enough time to finish it, sir,” Gabriel said. “I thank you for your patronage,” he added. They shook hands, sealing the deal.

I wandered away again as they began to discuss the particulars of payment and cost. I looked at the workbench more closely, wondering how each tool was used. I picked up a few small pieces that appeared to be different types of chisels and imagined seeing Gabriel at work.

“I will not be able to continue to leave the store to come and see to the progress, Gabriel,” Uncle Martin said.

I turned to watch him study the basic drawing.

“However, it is very important that I am informed of the progress you are making and of any difficulties.” At this, he raised his head and shared a long glance with Gabriel.

Gabriel shook his head in disagreement. “I’m not sure how I will make a sideboard if I can’t speak with you, sir,” Gabriel said, sounding disgruntled. “I need to be able to discuss my progress with you.”

“Hmm…yes,” Uncle Martin agreed, appearing deep in thought. “Would you object with speaking with my niece, Miss Sullivan? She knows what Miss Russell and Mr. Montgomery like, and I have complete faith in her judgment. If possible, I would like you to meet with her once weekly to discuss your progress. Is that acceptable to you?”

“Well, Mr. Russell, I do not know realistically how it would work. I would not want to damage a young lady’s reputation by meeting with her regularly. Would it not be better that I meet with your son, the young Mr. Russell?” Gabriel nodded in my direction as he spoke.

I choked on a laugh, trying to imagine him working with Lucas.

Gabriel watched me with amused eyes, seeming to understand my unspoken sentiment.

“I have thought about this long and hard. Lucas will not do. I heard he was not as cordial as he should have been on Saturday,” Uncle Martin admitted, a grim line about his mouth. Gabriel’s eyebrows rose in surprise at Uncle Martin’s words, again looking toward me.

I met his inquisitive gaze with a noncommittal shrug.

“Therefore, I have thought of a solution. Clarissa had mentioned to me that she needs bookshelves for her schoolroom. I imagine something like that is very simple for a man of your talents. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. McLeod?”

Gabriel nodded with lips quirked and humor lighting his rich blue eyes.

I felt I could drown in those eyes, and hastily looked away.

“Therefore, it will be necessary for you to visit with her at her school, at my request, to create the bookshelves that she needs, and then you can give any updates needed. Is that satisfactory to you, Mr. McLeod?”

Gabriel again nodded but, after glancing at my glazed expression, replied, “I am fine with the arrangement as it means more work for me. However, I still do not believe it is proper for a workingman to visit her at her school. I would not want to risk her reputation as a teacher. Miss Sullivan, what do you think?” he asked me.

I straightened my shoulders, attempting to breathe through my tight corset. “I, ah, there would need to be at least one other person present when he visited,” I said. “Or there could be talk, Uncle. I can’t give the school board reason to suspect my character.” I looked toward my uncle.

“Yes, of course, Clarissa. I would wish no more scandal for you. I know the school board has stringent rules regarding the moral fiber of its teachers.” He paused for a moment clearing his throat, squinting while he thought. “That teacher friend of yours could act as a chaperone, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I suppose,” I said.

“Good. I will also speak with your principal, explain my plans for the new bookshelves, and that Mr. McLeod will be visiting your rooms for the sake of the project. If problems arise, we will meet them as they come,” Uncle Martin said.

I furrowed my brow, uncertain how well the plan would work, but nodded my agreement. I turned toward Gabriel, who again appeared to study me. He watched the emotions flitting across my face in apparent fascination, causing me to wish I had the ability to mask what I felt. “Mr. McLeod, when would you like to visit the school?” I asked.

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“Oh.” My mind seemed to go blank. I needed to speak with Florence. “Why not the day after? When the children have left for home. That should be fine.”

He nodded his assent, turning his attention toward Uncle Martin.

“Well, then, we are agreed that you will make the sideboard and the bookshelves for the school. Can you assure me that you will have it ready in time?” Uncle Martin said, leveling a stern glance at Gabriel.

“The sideboard will be ready by your daughter’s wedding day. The bookshelves might not be finished until the start of next school year. I will want to put most of my energies into the creation of the sideboard.”

“Excellent. Clarissa will let you know where her school is,” Uncle Martin said.

When I remained silent for a few moments, Gabriel cleared his throat. “Ahem, miss, could you tell me where your school is?” Gabriel inquired gently.

“Oh, of course. It’s the Wells School on Blossom Street.”

“But that’s a school in the West End,” Gabriel said, sounding confused.

“Yes, it is,” I replied.

He simply smiled, seemingly pleased, and nodded in agreement. “Well then, it will be my pleasure to visit you there. It’s been some time since I’ve been to the West End.”

CHAPTER 6

THE BRIGHT SUN SHONE through the schoolroom window as I tidied the room, erasing some of the day’s lessons from the chalkboard. I turned expectantly when I heard steps at the door, my heart racing at the thought of seeing Gabriel again.

I exhaled loudly. “Florence! So good of you to come help me.” I smiled warmly, feeling foolish at the disappointment it was not Gabriel.

“Oh, yes. I wouldn’t want to miss this,” she said with a quick grin. She looked around the room, searching. “It is an exciting day when one of us has need for a chaperone.” Her voice was tinted with wistfulness before it turned serious. “You must be careful, Clarissa. You know Mr. Carney would like nothing better than to find fault with another one of us. I still can’t believe how they shamed Ursula.”

I grimaced at the thought of the principal, Mr. Carney, reporting our former colleague to the school board. “She told me that she never thought the school committee would fire her.”

“For immoral behavior,” Florence said with a shake of her head. “And all for being seen walking with a man not of her family. In the middle of the afternoon. Can you imagine? Now she is without work because she was deemed ‘of loose moral fiber.’”

“Even though my uncle spoke with Mr. Carney, I want to ensure they have no reason to reproach me. It’s why I wanted you here, Flo. I have no desire to be seen in the same way.” Florence and I shared a knowing nod of agreement.

“Let’s tidy your room for tomorrow as we wait,” Florence said as she moved toward the chalkboard. “I just finished mine. The girls were quite rambunctious today. Only wanting to be outside. I had half a mind to just let them go but knew there’d be
repercussions
.” She wiggled her eyebrows at me with her final word, causing me to laugh. She pushed a strand of black curly hair behind her ear that had escaped her tight bun.

“Do you remember what happened to Miss Lewis? I’d hate for us to suffer her punishment.” She shuddered at the thought.

I shook my head, thinking of poor Miss Lewis and her garnished wages for a few hours of freedom for the students.

“Oh, but we did have a fun time of it today,” Florence continued as she cleaned the chalkboard. “We painted and sewed and a few are learning to knit.”