Love Finds a Home (Love Comes Softly Series #8) (18 page)

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"Well, he had a number of suggestions. He proposed that we use it as a . . . a music or arts conservatory, or a library . . . or such. But for all those things the house would have to be altered--remodeled. Well, I don't favor changing it."

There were approving nods from some of the employees.

"We talked about an orphanage--" Belinda noticed nervous glances. "But that, too, would involve a great deal of alteration."

Belinda thought she heard sighs of relief.

"To me, the most logical thing would be a beautiful, natural home for the elderly," went on Belinda. "We could house a limited number of those who need homes. The house basically can be left as it is. All the pretty things can be enjoyed. The occupants can stroll the garden paths, bask in the sun on the benches, or sit in the parlors and do handwork. Those who play can enjoy the piano. Or they can read in the library..And, the best part, there really wouldn't be that much we would need to change."

Belinda watched the faces in the circle around her. Their expressions had gone from concern, to doubt, to acceptance in a few short minutes.

Windsor spoke first. "Would the present staff be expected to proceed as formerly, m'lady?"

"All who wish to," responded Belinda. "Of course, we will need more staff. There will be more people to feed--and care for."

A few more faces relaxed.

"T'won't nobody dig in my flower beds," mumbled Thomas.

Belinda laughed. "We'll keep all hands out of your flowers, Thomas, I promise you," she informed him. A few others chuckled along with her.

"But we would need more help in the kitchen and the

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laundry. And for the cleaning. I guess we should all sit down and take a good look at what will need doing and decide whose duty it will be. Then we will need to find additional staff. But . . . first I need to know your reaction to the plan."

Belinda let her eyes travel from face to face, but no one volunteered an opinion.

"Windsor, what do you think of the idea?" Belinda finally asked.

Windsor didn't hesitate. "Things will nevah be like they were in the past," he said evenly, "and there is no way to change that. I'm sure that after all consideration, the plan you have chosen is the best possible one, mlady"

"And you'll stay on in your present capacity?"

Windsor nodded. "Yes, m'lady," he agreed.

"Good!" Belinda exclaimed, her relief evident. "Potter?" "I couldn't leave the old house aftah so many years," the woman acknowledged, close to tears. "I'll stay."

"Thank you," said Belinda. "Cook?"

The woman just nodded, looking as though her feelings were too close to the surface to trust herself to speak. "Sarah?"

"I've been meanin' to talk to you, miss," replied Sarah, blushing deeply. "I . . . I'm planning to be married . . . soon. I won't be staying on in any case." She lowered her face and moved one foot nervously across the veranda boards.

"Why, Sarah," exclaimed Belinda, rising quickly to her feet, "how wonderful! I am so happy for you." And she went to give the girl a hug. The whole group seemed to pick up the excitement, and a murmur ran through the staff.

It was a few moments until Belinda continued. "And you, Ella? You aren't getting married, too, are you?" she teased.

Ella blushed. "Not as I've been informed, miss," she answered good-naturedly. "I'll be glad to stay"

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"And, Thomas--you and McIntyre will remain caring for the grounds?" Belinda said with a straight face but a twinkle in her eye.

The old gardener grinned, but McIntyre only stirred slightly and rearranged his head on his paws.

Belinda looked back at her staff. "I am so thankful . . . so relieved," she informed them sincerely. "You have all been invaluable to Mrs. Stafford-Smyth. . . and to me. I don't know how the house would ever manage without you." She paused, then said, "Now we will need to do some careful planning. Potter, I will want to talk to you at length about the staff requirements. And, Cook, I will need your help with who else will be necessary in the kitchen. We have so much to do, but at least now we know how we should proceed. Thank you. Thank you all so much."

After giving Sarah one more hug, Belinda nodded to the little group that they were free to go about their business.

The next weeks were busy ones at Marshall Manor. There were many decisions to be made, so many needs to be taken care of.

A contractor came to assess the possibility of a lift. He laid out a workable plan for the back hall at the end of the big library. The arrangement would work well both upstairs and down and not disturb the appearance of the house. He began the installation immediately. Belinda decided she would be very glad when the construction was over and the mess cleaned up. She could tell that Potter would be even more relieved. The housekeeper was nearly frantic during the building of the lift, trying to keep the dust out of "her" house.

After several discussions, it was decided that the house could accommodate ten residents without destroying its charm

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and character. Belinda hoped it wouldn't be too difficult to find the ten.

Legal papers had to be drawn up to cover all possible eventualities. Belinda had never seen so many forms and documents. She had dreams of smothering in stacks of papers, struggling to get a breath of air. The whole procedure turned out to be an exhausting as well as an exhilarating one. Belinda prayed for the day when it all would be settled and she would be free to return to her own home.

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SEVENTEEN

The Unexpected

Belinda dressed carefully in her gray suit and pinned her hat securely on top of upswept hair. She inspected herself in her mirror, hoping she looked mature and responsible. She did not look forward to another trip to the law office. Her days seemed to be filled with legal documents and decisions. She was getting most weary of it all.

Will it never end?
she wondered for the hundredth time. She really wished Mrs. Stafford-Smyth had left the responsibility of her estate to the rightful heirs, her grandsons. Then Belinda told herself,
Aunt Virgie was always so kind to me. Surely I can do this small kindness in return.
Belinda turned from her mirror and went down to see if Windsor had brought the carriage.

Belinda reminded herself as she looked about at the lovely autumn colors that this would be her last fall season in Boston. If things proceeded as she hoped, she would be out west, back in her prairie town, before another winter set in.

Belinda sighed deeply. She was so looking forward to getting home. She knew there would be many adjustments. She had left home Belinda Davis, young girl. She was going home as Belinda Davis, mature woman. She had done some foreign traveling, she had enjoyed cultural experiences in music and theater, her manners had been refined to eastern standards-- and she had grown up. It would be very different for her in her

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hometown. She would need to find herself a new spot in the community and in the church life.
But I will do it,
she told herself firmly. She would do it because she didn't want to lose all the worthwhile things her small-town roots had given her. Family. Deep friendships. Faith. Love. Acceptance. A regard for fellowmen not based on position or possessions. Belinda longed to return to the simple absolutes that had framed her growing- up years.

When they reached the law office, Windsor helped her down and promised that he would return on the hour. Belinda shook the wrinkles from her skirts, lifted a hand to be sure her hat was properly in place, and began the climb to the law office on the second floor.

"Good afternoon, Miss Davis," a male receptionist addressed her. She had been in touch with this office so often she was now known by name. She nodded and offered a greeting in return.

"Mr. Keats will be with you shortly," he said. Belinda moved to a chair in the waiting area and sat down.

Are we really getting any nearer to finishing all these arrangements?
she asked herself as she pulled off her gloves.
Each time I think the end should be in sight, some new decisions and more papers are needed. Oh, I hope this will all be over soon.

"Miss Davis," Mr. Keats summoned her into his office. He was beaming, and Belinda hoped it meant much had been accomplished.

"Well, I believe we have all these documents sorted out and ready for your signature," he began and Belinda felt a burden start to lift from her shoulders.

"You say you have the necessary staff in place?" Mr. Keats questioned.

"Well, not totally," Belinda answered. "We have the kitchen

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help, extra day staff for the laundry and cleaning, but I still need an assistant for Potter."

"Potter? Oh yes. She's your housekeeper."

Belinda nodded. "She's done it all herself in the past--but now with so many decisions and the shopping and all the detail work, she will need someone else to supervise the staff. I have interviewed a number of women, but so far none of them have seemed suitable."

"Well, staff can certainly be a problem," he nodded and spread some sheets before Belinda. "Now, we need your signature on these papers," he continued briskly. "This is to set up the trust fund from which all expenses for the operation of the manor will be paid."

Belinda nodded and took the pen he offered.

"Now, when you draw funds from this account--" the attorney began.

"Oh, but I won't be the one drawing the funds," Belinda interrupted.

Mr. Keats stopped, a shocked look on his face. "What do you mean?" he asked. "We have set up the funds to be self- perpetuating, so that funds will be available for the continued support of the house."

"Oh yes," replied Belinda. "That is exactly as I wished, but I won't be the one paying the monthly accounts. I won't be here, you see."

"Not here?"

"I will be leaving for home just as quickly as we can get things settled. I thought I had told you."

The man looked chagrined. "Well, I . . . I recall some talk. But I thought . . . I guess I thought you had changed your mind. Nothing has been said about your leaving for some time--"

"Oh no," Belinda assured him. "I have not changed my

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mind. I wish to leave as soon as possible."

"I see," said the man, but there was a deep frown across his brow

"Is that . . . is that a problem?" asked Belinda.

"Not a problem. We'll have to set things up differently, that's all."

"How . . ? What will need to change?" Belinda felt her heart sink in frustration.

"Well, a trust. A board. I'll need to do some looking into it."

"Oh, dear!" cried Belinda. "I'd so hoped we could finish it all today"

The attorney shook his head. "The way we have it set up now won't do if you are to appoint someone else to administer the estate," he stated simply. "This was arranged for you to have complete charge of the affairs and to administer them accordingly"

He pulled the papers back and stacked them carefully together out of reach of Belinda's pen.

"Will . . . will it take long?" Belinda asked, her tone agitated.

"That depends. We will need to look into how to set up the administration to best care for the institution and the affairs of the estate. I will need to do some looking into possible alternatives. It would have been much simpler, of course, if you had chosen to run things yourself. But . . . I'm sure something can be worked out."

Belinda was discouraged as she left the attorney's inner office. There were to be more dealings, more decisions, more frustration.

"Good day, Mr. Willoughby," Belinda said, glancing toward the receptionist as she moved toward the stairs. But she saw he was not alone. A tall man, his back to Belinda, was leaning over

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the desk, discussing some papers.

"Oh, excuse me," Belinda apologized. "I didn't realize--"

But she stopped short. There was something familiar about the man. And then he straightened and Belinda saw one sleeve of his suit coat pinned up.

Can
it possibly be?
Belinda's heart gave a sudden lurch. Somehow she knew who it was even before the gentleman turned to look at her.

"Drew?"

The man wheeled sharply, his eyes searching the face of the young woman before him. "Belinda! Belinda Davis! Why . . . why. . . ?"

"What are you doing here?" Belinda asked in amazement. He had taken a step toward her, his hand going out to take hers.

"It
is
you!" he said, shaking his head in wonder. "It truly
is
you! I thought I must be dreaming."

"What are you doing here?" Belinda asked again.

"I .. . I work for this firm," he responded. "And you?" "You ... you work
here?
Why ... why haven't I seen you

before? I've been in and out of this office almost daily it seems for ... for just
forever."

"You have?" Drew said in surprise. "You mean ... you've been
here?
In Boston?"

"I have been for three years," Belinda informed him.

"I can't believe it! Here we are . . . in the same city, so . . . so close to each other and never knowing it. Why didn't someone tell me?"

"I . . . I had no idea where you were," Belinda explained. "My folks said you were somewhere in the East--training, but they never did say where. I don't know that they even knew."

Drew had still not released her hand. "I can't believe this,"