Steadfast Heart (8 page)

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Authors: Tracie Peterson

Tags: #FIC042030, #FIC042040, #FIC014000, #First loves—Fiction, #Man-woman relationships—Fiction, #Seattle (Wash.)—Social life and customs—19th century—Fiction

BOOK: Steadfast Heart
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“Are you sure you aren't feeling ill?” Mother asked. “I do worry about you. You haven't been yourself since we left Seattle.”

Lenore thought it would be the perfect opportunity to reintroduce the subject of Kolbein Booth. Not by name, of course. “If you'll recall, I did not wish to make this trip.” Her words were spoken respectfully but with emphasis. “I had hoped to further my relationship with . . . a certain gentleman.”

“Bah, that's completely unimportant right now,” her father insisted. “We will be home soon enough. For now, there are other matters that need my attention.” He dabbed his mouth with a linen napkin, then signaled the waiter. When the man approached, he motioned to the table. “We're finished here.”

Lenore sighed. If only that were true of their trip to San Francisco.

Abrianna had thought the day perfect until Priam Welby decided to join the affair. She stood alone to one side of the food tables and watched as couples skittered about looking for
Easter eggs. One of the single young ladies had snagged Wade for her partner and was even now making him rustle through blackberry bushes to seek wayward eggs. Abrianna was hoping for a few quiet moments to herself, but it was not to be.

“You look quite beautiful today, Miss Cunningham.”

She felt certain he was only trying to entice her for some personal benefit. “I didn't recall Aunt Miriam saying anything about your coming today, Mr. Welby. Are you lost?”

He chuckled. “Perhaps your aunt said nothing because she did not know.” His dark-eyed gaze traveled the full length of her and back in a flash. He smiled broadly, revealing perfect white teeth. Pity his ears were rather large, or he might have been handsome.

“Well, I suppose she would tell you to enjoy yourself. There's plenty of food. She and my aunts will be returning here as soon as the egg hunt is concluded.”

“Surely they aren't scouting for eggs themselves.”

“No, but they are overseeing the couples who are. You'd be amazed at how fast those couples can get lost.”

Mr. Welby gave an uproarious laugh. “I can very well imagine. I was once young myself and quite adept at disappearing with a beautiful young lady at my side.”

Abrianna said nothing and instead handed him a plate. “You might as well get started.”

“I'd just as soon remain here and talk with you. You are a charming young woman. How did you come to be with Mrs. Madison and the others?”

“It's a tale of great sadness. My folks died. At least my mother did. We were never sure about my father, but since he never showed back up, we're pretty sure he died, too. Of course,” she said, growing thoughtful, “I've often wondered if he might have
been struck with amnesia. Are you familiar with that term?” She didn't wait for him to answer.

“My father was a man of many trades, and I think it is possible that he was wounded in a terrible accident and perhaps suffered a blow to the head, only to forget everything. I suppose we shall never know.” She shrugged and placed the plate back on the table.

“And you came to live with the old ladies because he left?”

“No. My mother grew ill. She knew it wasn't boding well for her, and she knew these ladies were good, godly women. They attended church together, you see. Before Mother died . . .” Abrianna giggled. “Of course it was before she died. It would be most impossible to do it afterwards. Honestly, I have a terrible habit of making such a statement, and yet I know it to be completely preposterous.” She shrugged and continued. “Anyway, my mother persuaded the ladies to care for me. Of course they had no idea what they were in for,” she said, shaking her head. “My hair should have warned them, for even then it was red.”

“And a lovely shade it is. Like burnt copper or perhaps cinnamon.”

“Be that as it may, it's not exactly a color that most women desire.”

“I can't imagine why not,” Mr. Welby said in his appealing manner. “It suits you well. The freckles, too.”

Abrianna wasn't sure why, but her hand went automatically to the bridge of her nose. She'd never liked her freckles. Other young ladies had beautiful milky skin. Even Lenore's olive coloring was free from such blemishes, and she often brought Abrianna jars of cream that were designed to bleach out just such marring features.

Mr. Welby reached out and took hold of her hand and lowered
her arm. “You needn't be ashamed of them. They only serve to enhance your beauty.”

Abrianna wasn't used to such flattery. She felt her cheeks flush hot and turned away. “If you aren't hungry, we have cider and tea to drink. Aunt Miriam tried to get in her regular shipment of lemons, but something happened to delay them.”

Welby stepped closer, still holding her hand. “Miss Cunningham, I find you to be an absolute delight. Nay, I would venture to say I find you to be the most appealing woman I've yet to meet. You speak freely and are of obvious intelligence and great imagination. No doubt you are well-read and educated.”

“No doubt,” she agreed, pulling her hand from his grasp. “My aunts schooled me at home, and it was like having three taskmasters. Even so, I had a great love of learning and took to books and issues of faith quite easily. I'm afraid it's other things like cooking and sewing that I'm not so good at.”

“Well, that is easily remedied.”

Abrianna fought to regain her composure. She tried to appear disinterested, but it was possible he had a secret to success that she knew nothing about. “And how is that?”

“By marrying well and having servants, of course.” He grinned and gave her a wink.

Goodness
, but he is a most forward man. If Aunt Miriam
saw his performance, she'd force his exit sooner rather
than later.
Desiring nothing more than to escape, Abrianna pointed to her approaching aunts.

“It would appear the egg search is over.” Abrianna stepped forward. “Mr. Welby decided to join us,” she told the three women. “I believe he wishes to speak with you.” She took that moment to hurry off in the direction of Wade's wagon. At least there she might be able to escape notice.

Priam Welby watched the animated redhead make her departure. She had a fine figure, and the seed of an idea planted itself in his brain. He had originally hoped to catch her off guard at the party and trick her into giving him answers related to the old ladies. But now, a different plan formed.

“Mr. Welby, I'm surprised to see you here today,” Mrs. Madison commented. “You haven't come to speak to me about selling my building again, have you?”

“Not at all.” He smiled. “I am here on more amorous endeavors.”

Mrs. Gibson perked up at this. “Oh, you've come to meet the young ladies.”

“Not exactly,” Priam said, looking back in the direction Abrianna had gone. “I've come to discuss the possibility of courting one particular young lady.”

Miriam Madison met his gaze without blinking. “And who might that be?”

“Why, your ward, Miss Cunningham. I find her delightful. In fact, I have been able to think of little else since making her acquaintance. If she is not otherwise promised to someone, I should very much like to woo her.”

“I see.” Mrs. Madison considered his proposal, but Priam could tell she wasn't enthusiastic to agree. She continued to study him for several moments. “You are a man of how many years?”

“Eight and thirty,” he replied.

“And how is it that you are employed?”

“I built an import business from very little. I have nurtured the business over the years and now boast a sizable annual profit.
I have a good standing in the community and donate regularly to the charities.”

“I see.” Mrs. Madison seemed to be thinking of what else to ask him when her sister chimed in.

“And what of your faith, Mr. Welby? Are you a man of God?”

“Are we not all of God?” he challenged. “Did God not create each of us?”

“Indeed,” Miss Holmes replied. “But how is it with your soul and God?”

Priam thought to continue toying with the woman but decided against it. If he could convince the ladies to let him court and possibly propose marriage to their ward, he would have a much easier time securing the Madison Building for himself. After all, he had it on good authority that Mrs. Madison's ward was to one day inherit her estate.

“It is well with my soul and God,” he lied. “Very well. I was raised in a Christian home and heard the Scriptures read to me daily as a young man.” At least that much was true. “As I grew into adulthood, my parents encouraged me to attend seminary back east. I did so and soon realized that God was not calling me to the ministry, but rather to business. For you see, God needs businessmen on His side as well as preachers.”

Although his remark might be perceived as flippant, Priam didn't expect them to question him. These ladies weren't the quickest of mind nor the most knowledgeable despite their schooling of Abrianna. No, they were women, and as such were weak and inconsistent. They would be easily swayed once he convinced Abrianna that he loved her and that she loved him. It would take some work on his part, but it would be a pleasant enough task. Abrianna might even make a very enticing companion. Who could say?

“Mr. Welby, we will discuss this matter, and of course we'll consult with Abrianna. We will pray on your proposal and let you know whether we can approve your request.”

“And when might you have an answer for me?”

“After we speak to Abrianna and pray,” Mrs. Madison said in a tone that suggested he should have known from her earlier statement.

“Very well. I will check back with you.” He gave a low sweeping bow. “Until then, my dear ladies.”

8

A
brianna couldn't imagine where Charlie might have disappeared to. She had searched the regular places, but the old man was nowhere to be found. Worry flooded her that he might have found someone to fund his drinking. Charlie was fond of the bottle, and there was no telling how low he might stoop to satisfy his need for drink.

“Oh, Charlie, please don't be drinking.” She looked up to the rain clouds and worried that despite the warm days they'd enjoyed, perhaps Charlie was sick. Of course! That was a greater possibility than the drinking, for Abrianna knew that Charlie was trying his best to stay away from the bottle.

She slipped down the alleyway and hurried to Wade's wagon shop. It was always possible he might know something. After all, she and Wade had befriended Charlie together. Nearly five years earlier they had come across Charlie drunk and sick, lying in the gutter. Liquor had all but done the man in. Wade had taken him home and, with Abrianna's help, had nursed the old man back to health. But it hadn't been easy.

“Wade?” Abrianna called as she entered the back door of the shop.

It took only a second for her friend to appear. He beamed at her, but Abrianna did not return the smile. “Wade, have you seen Charlie?”

“No, I guess I haven't seen him for two weeks at least. Why?”

“He hasn't been around at all. I keep hoping he'll stop by the school, but I haven't seen him.” She tried not to betray her fear, but it was impossible. Charlie was just as precious to her as anyone else in her life. The old sailor had shown her nothing but kindness since his recovery and had become something of a grandfather figure to Abrianna.

“Do you suppose he's in some kind of trouble? Perhaps sick?” she asked.

“It's always possible.” Wade gave her a compassionate smile. “Did you pray about this?”

“I did, but I fear what with the various days of focus on our Lord for Easter, maybe our Father in heaven is just a bit busy. You know folks always seem to pray more around religious holidays.”

Wade laughed. “Oh, Abrianna, do you really suppose that God is too inundated with prayer and unable to handle the onslaught? He's God and capable of all things.”

She nodded. “I suppose you are right. I needed that correction to my thinking. Even so, why doesn't God show me where Charlie is? So if he's sick we can attend him, and if he's in trouble we can assist him.”

“I'm certain that God knows what Charlie needs and will provide. Even so, I will ask around the docks and see if anyone has seen him.”

“Thank you, Wade.” She gave him a hurried hug. “I have to get back to the school. My aunts have informed me that we are to have a private discussion before lunch. If I'm not quick about it, I will be late. And you know how that always bodes ill for me.”

“Be careful, Abrianna. You know traveling this area is a questionable thing for you to do by yourself. There are those out there who would seek to take liberties or harm you.”

She threw him a smile over her shoulder. “Ever the loving and worried brother. I often wish my aunts would adopt you, as well. Then we might sit together in the evening and talk about things long into the night. I'm certain you would come up with many deep thoughts at late hours.”

With that she left the shop and picked up speed. She hiked her skirts, noting that this caused her to reveal a good portion of her black wool stockings. It really didn't matter. Time was what was important, and her aunts hated for her to be late.

Abrianna made it back to the school with only a few minutes to spare. She hurried up the back stairs and paused long enough in the kitchen to look at her reflection in the beveled glass of one of the cupboards.

Liang was moving around in silence tending to lunch, but Abrianna knew the girl had noted what a mess she was.

“I look like an unkempt urchin.”

The Chinese girl put a hand to her mouth and giggled. “You look like you pull hair out in madness.”

“Well, very nearly,” Abrianna said, taking the ribbon from her hair. The auburn curls flared out around her. “I'd best get it in order before the aunts see me.” She worked with lacking skill to amass the hair into order. Never in her life had she been one to show great talent in this area.

Liang came up from behind her. “You sit. I make right.”

Abrianna did as instructed and handed the ribbon to Liang. “Thank you. I fear I will only make things worse, and I have so little time to set it right.”

The girl worked with seeming ease, first pulling the curls from
one side to another. She combed through Abrianna's hair with her fingers and separated the mass into three equal parts. Next she plaited it down her back and tied the braid with Abrianna's ribbon.

“There. You look like lady again.” Liang stepped back just as Abrianna jumped to her feet.

She took a quick glance at her reflection. “And none too soon. I have to hurry, though. Thanks, Liang. You are most amazing.”

Abrianna entered her aunts' private sitting room just as the clock struck eleven. She let out the breath she'd been holding and gave each woman a smile. “Good day, Aunties.”

“Good day, Abrianna. Thank you for being prompt,” Aunt Miriam said, motioning her to a chair. “Please, come have a seat. We have an important discussion to hold.”

Abrianna couldn't imagine what it might be. Were they going to reprimand her for burning a pie the day before? Maybe Aunt Selma had seen the mess she'd made of her embroidery and they were going to berate her for not taking enough time and care. Goodness, she prayed it wouldn't be that discussion about their raising her up to take over the school.

“I know this may come as a surprise, but a suitor has asked to court you,” Aunt Miriam said, jumping right into the subject at hand.

A blow to her stomach couldn't have surprised Abrianna more. “A suitor? For me? Goodness, but that is something I did not pray for. Who is he?”

“Mr. Welby.”

Her eyes widened at the memory of the man who'd pursued her at the Easter gathering. He had tried his best to appeal to her by offering compliments and praise, but such things had never interested Abrianna.

“I have no desire to court Mr. Welby or any suitor. You know that I feel called to help the poor and downtrodden. I can hardly do that with a husband who expects me to make a nice home and cook his meals.” She held up her hand before her aunts could protest.

“I know what you've often said. The right man would aid my cause and come alongside me to offer help. But you must understand that I consider this God's work, and I want to be faithful to Him—not a husband.”

“Abrianna, Mr. Welby is a much respected man who gives generously to charities. He might honor your concerns, as well.”

“Mr. Welby is a man with a social bearing to consider, and as such,” Abrianna countered, “he will have certain expectations of a wife. I doubt he would allow his spouse to frequent the docks and poorer parts of town.”

“It has never been our desire that you do so, either, and yet you do,” Aunt Miriam declared. “I'm afraid that no matter whom you marry, you will go on doing just as you wish.”

“You are most likely right about that. Still, we know nothing of him, and while he might be generous in his charities,” Abrianna said, hoping to figure a way to discourage the discussion, “he was quite ruthless when he came here to try to purchase the building from you.”

“It's true. But the man did offer a measure of regret. He told me of his great frustration in being thwarted time and again from purchases of prime property for his business. So you see, he is a man of honor. He merely needs to find the right real estate.”

Abrianna knew this was getting her nowhere. She'd told them of her need to work for God, had questioned Mr. Welby's integrity, and had shown her own disinterest. What else could she say or do to reason with them?

“Why not have Abrianna and Mr. Welby simply meet at the receptions rather than court?” Aunt Poisie offered. “There we can supervise the couple, and they can get to know each other better while under our guarded watch.”

Aunt Miriam bristled. “Well, I never intended to allow Abrianna to accompany Mr. Welby without one of us in attendance. She has never courted, and a chaperone is definitely in order. There may be all sorts of newfangled courting procedures that allow for men and women to be more intimate, but we will not allow that in our house.”

Knowing she needed time to figure out how she might dissuade her aunts or discourage Mr. Welby, Abrianna spoke up. “I would be willing to get to know him at the school receptions, but only there. I feel quite guarded in giving my heart to anyone—just as you taught me.” She looked to each aunt as if to emphasize their wisdom. “You have raised me to know that God has specific mates for most people, while others are destined to remain single. I trust in Him for direction to know which I might be. I'll definitely need time to pray about Mr. Welby.”

“That's a wise path,” Aunt Selma replied. “Goodness knows, a man might seem to be honorable and godly, but then without even realizing what has happened, you could find him studying astronomy.”

Poisie nodded her head quickly. “And you don't want that to happen to poor Abrianna, Sister.”

“Indeed, I do not,” Aunt Miriam said. “Nor will I stand for anything less than a man who loves God and proves such love—as well as love for Abrianna.”

Abrianna awoke to pouring rain the next morning. The day seemed to match her heart and mood. Not only was Charlie missing, but now she had this nonsense with Mr. Welby to deal with. How she wished Lenore would return. She supposed her friend was having great fun in San Francisco, but Abrianna missed her dearly and needed her counsel.

Making her way downstairs, Abrianna was surprised by the relative quiet of the house. She heard people stirring, but it seemed much more subdued than a typical morning. Abrianna searched throughout the building for her aunts and finally found Militine straining to look out a window.

“Where is everyone?”

“There was a tragedy,” Militine told Abrianna in a reverent hush. “We were told to remain in the upstairs drawing room for breakfast rather than come here to the dining room. I'm afraid I had to come, however, for the view is better. If you want to eat, Liang is getting ready to serve.”

Abrianna shook her head. “What kind of tragedy?”

“Someone was killed,” Militine confided. “Your aunts didn't say so, but I overheard a policeman declare it to be murder.”

“Murder!” she gasped. “Who was it?”

Militine shook her head. “I don't know.”

“Very well. I shall have to investigate it for myself.” Abrianna hurried to the kitchen and found Liang loading up a tea cart. “Where is Aunt Miriam?”

“She down the stairs talking to a policeman. Your other aunties, they there, too.” Liang looked most sober. Her black hair had been pulled back tight in a most severe knot, making the girl look years older.

Abrianna took hold of Liang's arm as she turned to go. “Do you know who was killed?”

“No. I do not see. I know it is a man, but no more.”

Abrianna tarried no longer. She made her way down the back stairs and hoped that Aunt Miriam might tell her what had happened. It was most unusual to have a murder take place at their door, and the entire situation intrigued Abrianna. Wade had told her how dangerous the area was becoming, and she had doubted him.

I
suppose I shall owe him an apology and tell him
his concern was merited. But if I do that, will
he insist on my staying at home? Worse still, will
he speak to my aunts?

She spied her aunt speaking with the policeman. Abrianna hurried forward. “What has happened? Militine told me someone was killed. Who was it?”

“We don't know, miss,” the officer said. “Just some poor old sailor who'd met up with bad company.”

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