A Good Woman (3 page)

Hortie still came to visit them often, and in mid-May they quietly celebrated Annabelle’s nineteenth birthday. Consuelo was very upset at lunch, and commented that she had married at eighteen, when she came out, and Robert had been born when she was the age that Annabelle was now. Thinking about it reduced her to tears again, and she had left the two girls in the garden, and went upstairs to lie down.

“Your poor mother,” Hortie said sympathetically, and then looked at her friend, “and poor you. I’m so sorry, Belle. This is all so awful.” She felt so badly for her that it took her another two hours to admit that she and James had set the date for their wedding, in November, and plans for an enormous reception were under way. Annabelle said she was thrilled for her, and meant it. “You really don’t care that you can’t go out right now?” Hortie asked her. She would have hated being stuck in the house for a year, but Annabelle accepted it with grace. She was only nineteen, and the next year wasn’t going to be fun for her. But she had already grown up immeasurably in the brief month since her brother and father had died.

“I don’t mind,” Annabelle said quietly. “And as long as Mama is willing to work at the hospital, it gives me something to do when I go with her.”

“Ergh, don’t talk to me about that.” Hortie rolled her eyes. “It makes me sick.” But she knew that her friend loved it. “Will you still go to Newport this year?” The Worthingtons had a beautiful cottage there, in Rhode Island, next door to the Astors.

“Mama says we will. Maybe we can go up early, in June, instead of July, before the season starts. I think it would do her good.” Caring for her mother was Annabelle’s only concern now, unlike Hortie, who had a wedding to plan, a million parties to go to, and a fiancé she was madly in love with. Her life was what Annabelle’s should have been, and no longer was. Her world, as she knew it, had been interrupted, changed forever.

“At least we’ll be together in Newport,” Hortie said happily. They both loved to go swimming, when their mothers would let them. They talked about the wedding plans for a while, and then Hortie left. For Annabelle, it had been a very quiet birthday.

In the weeks following the funerals, Consuelo and Annabelle had several visits, as was expected. Friends of Robert’s came to call, several elderly dowagers came to offer their condolences to Consuelo, two men from Arthur’s bank whom they knew well, and finally, a third one, whom Consuelo had met several times, and liked very much. His name was Josiah Millbank, he was thirty-eight years old, and was much respected at Arthur’s bank. He was a quiet man, with gentle manners, and told Consuelo several stories about Arthur that she’d never heard before, and which made her laugh. She was surprised by how much she enjoyed Josiah’s visit, and he had been there for an hour when Annabelle came in from a ride with Hortie. Annabelle remembered meeting him previously, but didn’t know him well. He was more her father’s generation than her own, and was even fourteen years older than her brother, so although they had seen each other at parties, they had nothing in common. But like her mother, she was impressed by his kindness and good manners, and he was sympathetic to Annabelle as well.

He mentioned that he was going to Newport in July, as he always did. He had a simple, comfortable house there. Josiah was originally from Boston, from a family as respectable as their own, and with even more money. He led a quiet life anyway, and was never showy about it. He promised to come and visit them again in Newport, and Consuelo said she’d like that. After he left, Annabelle noticed that he had brought a large bouquet of white lilacs that had already been put in a vase. Consuelo commented about him after he left.

“He’s really a very nice man,” Consuelo said quietly, admiring the lilac. “Your father liked him a lot, and I can see why. I wonder why he never married.”

“Some people don’t,” Annabelle said, looking unconcerned. “Not everyone has to get married, Mama,” she added with a smile. She was beginning to wonder if she was going to be one of those. She couldn’t imagine leaving her mother now, to go off with a man. She wouldn’t want to leave Consuelo alone. And it didn’t seem like a tragedy to her if she didn’t marry. It would have been to Hortie, but not to her. With her father and brother gone, and her mother shaken to her core, Annabelle felt she had more important responsibilities at home, and didn’t resent it for a moment. Caring for her mother gave purpose to her life.

“If you’re telling me you don’t want to get married,” her mother correctly read her mind, as she often did, “you can forget about that right now. We are going to do our year of mourning, as is proper, and then we’re going to find you a husband. That’s what your father would want.”

Annabelle turned to face her seriously then. “Daddy wouldn’t want me to leave you alone,” she said as firmly as any parent.

Consuelo shook her head. “That’s nonsense and you know it. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” But as she said it, her eyes filled with tears again, and her daughter was not convinced.

“We’ll see about that,” Annabelle said firmly, and swept out of the room, to organize a tea tray to be taken up to Consuelo’s room. When she returned, she put her arm around her mother, gently escorted her upstairs for a nap, and settled her on her bed, the bed she had shared with the husband she had loved and who was gone, which broke Consuelo’s heart.

“You’re much too good to me, my love,” she said, looking embarrassed.

“No, I’m not,” Annabelle said brightly. She was the only remaining ray of sunshine in the house. She brought her mother nothing but joy. And each was all the other had left. There were just the two of them now. She pulled a light shawl over Consuelo, and went back downstairs to read in the garden, hoping her mother would feel up to going back to the hospital the next day. It was the only distraction Annabelle had, and gave her something to do that was important to her.

She could hardly wait to go to Newport the following month.

Chapter 3

A
nnabelle and her mother left for Newport a month earlier than usual, in June. It was beautiful that time of year, and as they always did, the staff had gone ahead to open the house. Usually, the social season in Newport was dazzling, but this year they were planning a very quiet life. People could visit them at the house, but two months after her father and brother’s deaths there was no way that Annabelle and her mother could go out. The now-familiar black ribbons were put on the front door in Newport, to indicate their state of mourning.

There were a number of families in the same situation in Newport that year, including the Astors. Madeleine Astor, who had lost her husband John Jacob on the
Titanic,
was expecting her baby in August. The tragedy had hit the New York social world hard, since it was the maiden voyage, and so many society types and aristocrats had been on the ship. And continuing news of the ineptitude of the crew getting people off the boat was increasingly disturbing. Almost all the lifeboats had left half empty. Some men had forced their way into them with the women and children. And almost no one from steerage had been saved. There were going to be official hearings about it in time.

Newport was extremely quiet in June, but started to liven up as people from Boston and New York began to arrive and fill their “cottages” in July. For the uninitiated, what people called cottages in Newport were actually mansions of mammoth proportions anywhere else. They were houses with ballrooms, enormous chandeliers, marble floors, priceless antique furniture, and spectacular gardens, bordering on the sea. It was a remarkable community made up of the scions of society from the entire East Coast, a watering hole for the very rich. The Worthingtons were right at home there. Their cottage was one of the largest and loveliest in town.

Annabelle started to have fun once Hortie arrived. They sneaked off to the sea together, went for walks, and Hortie’s fiancé James often joined them for picnics on the lawn. Now and then he brought friends, which was fun for Annabelle, and her mother pretended she didn’t notice. As long as they didn’t go to parties, she had no objection to Annabelle seeing young people. She was such a good person and so devoted to her mother, she deserved it. Consuelo wondered if any of James’s friends, or Robert’s old pals, would spark Annabelle’s interest. She was increasingly worried that the year of mourning would impact Annabelle’s fate forever. Since the Christmas season, when all the girls had come out, six of the young women in Annabelle’s age group had gotten engaged. And Annabelle wasn’t going to meet anyone staying at home with her mother. After the past two months, she already seemed older and more mature than the others. Something like that could frighten young men away. And more than anything, her mother wanted her to get married. Annabelle continued to be unconcerned and was happy to see Hortie and the others, but none of the men was of even the slightest interest to her.

Josiah Millbank came to see them once he arrived in July too. He never failed to bring a gift with him when he visited, flowers in the city, and in Newport, either fruit or candy. He spent hours talking to Consuelo, as they sat together on the wide porch in rocking chairs, and after his third visit, Annabelle teased her about it.

“I think he likes you, Mama,” she said, smiling.

“Don’t be silly.” Consuelo blushed at the suggestion. The last thing she wanted was a suitor. She intended to remain faithful to her husband’s memory forever, and said so to anyone who would listen. She was not one of those widows who was looking for a husband, although she wanted one desperately for Annabelle. “He’s just being kind to us,” Consuelo added firmly, convinced of what she was saying. “He’s younger than I am anyway, and if he’s interested in anyone, it’s you.” Although she had to admit, there was no evidence of it. He seemed to be equally comfortable talking to mother or daughter, and he was never flirtatious, just friendly.

“He’s not interested in me, Mama,” Annabelle confirmed with a broad grin, “and he’s only five years younger than you are. I think he’s a very nice person. And he’s old enough to be my father.”

“Lots of girls your age marry men his age,” her mother said quietly. “He’s not that old, for heaven’s sake. I think he’s only thirty-eight, if I remember correctly.”

“He’s much better for you.” Annabelle laughed and ran off with Hortie. It was a hot, sunny day and they wanted to go swimming, and James had promised to come over later. There was a big party planned at the Schuylers’ that night, which James and Hortie and all their friends were going to, although Annabelle of course couldn’t. She wouldn’t have dreamed of asking her mother, and didn’t want to upset her.

But that night, sitting on the porch, they could hear the party and the music in the distance. There were fireworks, and Consuelo knew it was to celebrate the engagement of one of the Schuyler daughters. It made her heart ache for Annabelle as they listened.

Much to their surprise, Josiah dropped by later in the evening to bring them each a piece of cake from the party. He was on the way back to his place, and both women were touched by the thoughtful gesture. He stayed for a glass of lemonade with them, and then said he had to leave, as he had a houseguest waiting for him at home. He promised to come back soon, when they thanked him. Even Annabelle was touched by the gesture of friendship. She had no romantic interest in him, but in a funny way, she felt as though he were standing in for her brother. She liked talking to him, and he teased her in just the way Robert used to, and which she missed so much.

“I wonder why he didn’t take his houseguest to the party,” Consuelo mused, as she left their glasses and the pitcher of lemonade in the pantry.

“Maybe they’re unsuitable,” Annabelle teased, “a shocking, unsuitable woman. Maybe he has a mistress,” she said, chortling, as her mother guffawed. Given how well brought up Josiah was, and how polite, it seemed extremely unlikely. And he wouldn’t have mentioned a guest at all if that were the case.

“You have a most unsuitable imagination,” her mother scolded, and a moment later the two of them went upstairs, chatting amiably about Josiah and how nice he had been to bring them cake from the party. It was the first time Annabelle had actually been sorry she couldn’t go out. All her friends had been there, and it had sounded like quite a celebration, with the fireworks and all. It was going to be a very quiet summer, except for Hortie and Josiah, both of whom were faithful about frequent visits, and a few other friends as well.

Josiah came back again the next day, and Consuelo invited him for a picnic lunch with Annabelle and Hortie. Josiah seemed perfectly at ease with both girls, even though Hortie giggled a lot and was often silly, and he said that he had a half-sister their age, from his father’s second marriage after he was widowed. Annabelle still couldn’t imagine Hortie as a married woman, which she would be in four months. She was still such a baby, but she was crazy about James, and often when she and Annabelle were alone, she made racy comments about their wedding night and honeymoon, which made Annabelle roll her eyes. Fortunately, Hortie said none of that in front of Josiah, and he commented that his sister had gotten married in April and was expecting a baby. He seemed to be perfectly familiar with the lives, pursuits, and interests of young girls, and they both enjoyed talking to him.

He mentioned his houseguest to them, and said he was a classmate of his from Harvard, and came up to visit every summer. He said he was a studious, quiet fellow, and usually avoided social events and parties.

Josiah stayed until the late afternoon, and walked Annabelle back up to the house when Hortie left. Her mother was sitting on the porch, chatting with a friend. It was fun for them there. Lots of people came to visit, and there was a sense of life swirling around them. It was particularly nice for Annabelle, who was dreading going back to the city. She had told Josiah about the hospital work she loved to do, and he had teased her about it.

“I suppose you want to be a nurse when you grow up,” he said, knowing full well, as she did, that that would never happen. The closest she would ever get to it was volunteer work, but she still did a lot of reading about medical subjects. It was her secret passion.