Secrets of the Heart (15 page)

“Oh? Mrs. Murphy has a rule that no men are allowed upstairs unless they’re boarders. But we could go to the parlor and talk.”

“All right,” Peter said.

When they entered the parlor, Peter stopped short as his gaze took in the gathering. Some of the boarders were sitting together and chatting, while others were reading, and still others were occupied playing checkers or chess.

He looked around. “It’s…a bit crowded in here, Kathleen. Could you and I take a walk?”

“All right. I’ll just run upstairs and get my coat.”

Peter’s heart skipped a beat as he watched the beautiful Irish maiden descending the stairs wearing her coat and bonnet. He held open the door for her and guided her down the porch steps. His horse nickered as they walked past the carriage and along the boardwalk.

Kathleen looked up at Peter expectantly.

“I’ve run into a problem,” he said.

“Is it something I can help you with?”

He looked at her with a slanted grin. “Well, not exactly. It’s just something I need to tell you, and I’m hoping you will understand.”

“I’ll try.”

Peter hesitated for a long moment, then said, “Kathleen, I like you very much, and as you’ve probably figured out, I find ways to be with you when I’m home. The problem is…well, my parents have noticed, and they’re afraid I’m getting interested in you. People with the kind of money my parents have always want their children to keep their friendships within the circle of people who are on the same level financially.”

Kathleen felt a cold flutter in her stomach.

“My parents have told me if I don’t stay away from you, they’ll find another cleaning lady.”

She slowed her pace and came to a stop. “Peter, I’m sorry to be a
problem to you and your family. When I come to work Tuesday, I’ll tell your mother I’m quitting.”

“No, no! Please don’t do that. I have another solution.”

The afternoon breeze toyed with Kathleen’s long hair as she watched his face with sober eyes.

“I really do like you a lot,” Peter said. “And…and I think you like me, don’t you?”

“Very much.”

Peter smiled. “I’m glad! Then my solution will allow you to keep your job and Wallow us to see each other.”

“Are you sure your parents want to keep me on?”

“Oh, yes. They like your work, and they like you.”

“So its just my social status that concerns them.”

“That’s it. I don’t like this different social level stuff, but it exists, and I have to live with it, at least for the present.”

“I understand, Peter. And I appreciate your attitude about it. So what is your solution?”

“Simply this: When I’m home on Saturdays—or any other time you’re in the house—I’ll stay away from you. But I’ll come by your boardinghouse often to see you. We can take walks together, and I can take you for rides in my carriage. That way we can be together without causing any problems for either of us with my parents.”

Kathleen thought on it a moment. “But if your parents find out, I’ll still end up getting fired, and you’ll be in deep trouble with them.”

“How would they find out? They certainly don’t know anybody in this part of town.”

Kathleen shrugged.

“So can I come see you often?”

“All right,” she said softly.

“Wonderful!” Peter said, grabbing her hand in his enthusiasm. “Most of the time it will have to be Sunday afternoons, but I’ll try to come by at other times, too.”

“Peter,” Kathleen said, her heart thumping wildly, “you are always welcome.”

He gazed deeply into her sky blue eyes. “I’m glad to hear that. Could we walk a little longer before I take you back to the boardinghouse?”

“Why, yes. Of course.”

Peter tucked her arm through his and they proceeded to stroll down the street, enjoying the crisp fall day.

An hour later he watched her climb the stairs to the second floor of the boardinghouse. When she entered her room, she dashed to the window and looked down on the street from behind the curtains. Peter was just climbing into the carriage. As he pulled away, a smile played across Kathleen’s lips, and she let out a deep sigh.

“Oh, Peter,” she said in a half whisper, “I wish things were different. I wish we could meet on equal terms.”

As the days turned into weeks, Peter visited Kathleen every Sunday and sometimes showed up late evenings. On those occasions, they sat in the parlor and just enjoyed being in each other’s presence.

Whenever Peter was in the Stallworth mansion on Kathleen’s workdays, they only spoke casually in passing.

John and Maria were pleased, assured by Peter’s conduct that he had lost interest in the girl.

In her heart, Kathleen’s secret meetings with Peter made her feel disloyal to the Stallworths. They had given her a job when she was almost at the end of her rope, and they had treated her well.

At times she chastised herself and even felt that if her parents knew about it they would disapprove of her conduct. But Kathleen O’Malley was falling in love with Peter Stallworth, and try as she might, she could not stop seeing him.

The new year came, and on a January Sunday in 1872, Kathleen waited at her window, knowing that Peter would arrive around one o’clock. The ground was covered with a foot of snow. When he pulled up in front of the boardinghouse, she slipped into her coat, put a wool scarf over her head, then pulled on wool gloves and hurried down the stairs.

Peter was in the front hall, greeting Hattie Murphy.

“I’m ready for our ride,” Kathleen said, rushing down the last couple of stairs.

Peters face lit up when he saw her. “I’ve heated stones and put them in the carriage for your feet.”

“What a gentleman!” Hattie said. “Kathleen, you’d better hang on to him.”

“Well, I plan to!”

When Peter helped Kathleen into the carriage, his breath came out in small clouds as he said, “Did you really mean that?”

“Mean what?” She eased onto the seat and reached for the lap robe.

“That you plan to keep me?”

“Of course.”

“I’m sure glad about that.” He rounded the carriage and pulled himself onto the seat beside her.

“Good friends should never throw each other away,” she said while watching him adjust the blanket over their legs to keep in the heat from the stones.

He took up the reins and set the carriage in motion. “And people who are
more than
good friends shouldn’t either, young lady.”

“Young lady, eh? Well, I’m not as young as I was yesterday.”

The carriage rocked as it went over a pile of snow in the street.

“So you’re another day older,” Peter said, smiling wryly. “So am I.”

“I didn’t mean another
day
, silly. I meant an
other year.
Today’s my birthday. I’m eighteen now.”

“Oh, Kathleen, I wish I’d known. I would have brought you a birthday present.”

“That’s not necessary,” she said, looking toward a group of boys who were sledding down a hill. “It’s birthday present enough just to be with you today.”

On Monday Kathleen worked at the Massey mansion. She finished the day’s assignments late in the afternoon and told LuAnn Massey good-bye.

The outside air was bitterly cold, and as Kathleen tramped through the snow, she pulled her collar tight around her neck and turned her face from the wind. She soon reached the edge of the wealthy section, crossed the street, and headed for downtown.

Moments later, as she walked briskly along the boardwalk, a carriage pulled alongside her.

“Hello, pretty lady,” Peter said. “May I offer you a ride?”

As he helped her into the carriage she said, “Aren’t you off work a little early?”

“Just a bit. Dad’s staying at the office for a special meeting with his attorneys. One of them lives close to us, so he’ll deliver Dad home. I just had to see you right now.”

Kathleen’s pulse quickened as she waited for Peter to circle the carriage and climb in beside her. He reached behind the seat and brought out a small gift-wrapped package.

“Happy birthday one day late.”

“Oh, Peter, you shouldn’t have!”

“Yes, I should. Go ahead. Open it.”

Kathleen took off her gloves to untie the ribbon on the black velvet jewelry box. Her heart leaped when she lifted the lid and set her eyes on the expensive onyx brooch.

“Oh, Peter, it’s beautiful! I will treasure it always.”

Peter took Kathleen’s hand and said, “You’re the sweetest, most beautiful girl I have ever met. I…I think I’m falling in love with you.”

When he saw fear shadow her features he said, “I’m sorry, Kathleen. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, don’t be sorry, Peter. I must admit I have very strong feelings toward
you
, but we dare not let this go any further.”

“Why?”

“Because it would turn your parents against you. I can’t allow myself to become a wedge between you.”

He looked at her for a long moment, then said, “I’ve tried to keep my feelings for you a secret, but…well, it just had to come out.
I can’t help it, Kathleen. You’re on my mind day and night. I’ve never known a girl like you.”

“Peter,” she said with quavering voice, “you’re on my mind day and night, too. But we can never be more than good friends. I’m not from your world. If we were to let our feelings take their natural course, it would ruin things between you and your parents. Why, your parents might even disinherit you. I’ve heard of things like that happening. I just can’t be the cause of it, Peter.”

“See what I mean? You are the sweetest, most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.”

Kathleen looked down at the brooch. “This means more to me than I could ever tell you, Peter. We must let it be the symbol of a beautiful friendship.” She raised her eyes to his and revealed the tears welling up.

Peter sighed, his breath making tiny puffs on the cold air. “I wish things were different, Kathleen.”

“Me, too. But they’re not.”

“I can still come and see you on Sunday afternoons, can’t I? And sometimes in between, as I’ve been doing?”

Kathleen shook her head. “It’s best that we not see each other that much. Maybe just once in a while.”

“But I need to be with you. The only time I feel really alive is when we’re together. Please, Kathleen—”

“Oh, Peter, I need to be with you, too. But we dare not—”

“At least on Sundays?”

Kathleen pressed shaky fingers to her temples. “I just—”

“Please?”

She set her soft gaze on him and let a tiny smile tug at the corners of her mouth. “All right. Sundays.”

As the weeks passed, Peter managed to be away from home on Tuesdays and Thursdays when Kathleen worked at the Stallworth
mansion. On Saturdays, he would pass by her and speak cordially, but that was all.

Sundays were a different matter. Spring came, and one Sunday afternoon in April, Peter and Kathleen were strolling through a park not far from her boardinghouse. Trees were budding and the grass was turning green. Birds flitted through the trees, chirping noisily. As they drew near an unoccupied park bench, Peter said, “Could we sit down here for a few minutes? I need to talk to you about something.”

He removed his hat and turned to face her. “I can’t stand this ‘friendship’ situation any longer. I love you, Kathleen. Just being friends is not enough. I want you to be my wife. I’m asking you here and now to marry me.”

A tremor rocked through Kathleen O’Malley. “I—”

“You
are
in love with me, aren’t you?”

Tears surfaced in her eyes as she said, “Yes, Peter, yes! I am just as in love with you! But—”

“Will you marry me?”

She bit her lips. “I want to be your wife more than anything in this world. But it can never be. Think about your parents. If you tell them you’re going to marry me, they’ll disown you.”

Peter moved closer and took her in his arms. For a brief moment she held herself stiff, but as he looked deeply into her tear-filled eyes, she gave in to his embrace…and to his lips. The kiss was sweet and tender, and when he released her, he held her close and spoke in a half whisper.

“Darling, will you marry me?”

“Oh, Peter, I want to say yes so badly, but I can’t allow you to—”

“I’m willing to let the chips fall where they may, darling. If Dad fires me, I’ll get another job. More than anything in this world I want you for my wife. Will you marry me?”

Kathleen brushed tears from her cheeks. “I love you, Peter. I really do want to be your wife. But I don’t think I can stand it if I come between you and your parents.”

“Maybe I can change their minds. Will you let me handle it?”

She swallowed with difficulty. “All right.”

Peter put the horse and carriage in the barn and headed for the back door of the Stallworth mansion. Upon entering the kitchen he found Carlene Simms at the stove and asked if she knew where his parents were. Carlene told him they were in the parlor.

John and Maria broke off their conversation when Peter found them and said he needed to talk to them.

He sat down and faced them with a sober expression on his face. “Mom…Dad…I’m your only child, and I know you want what is best for me now and in the future.”

“Of course we do, Peter,” his father said. “And we were just talking about your social life. We haven’t heard anything about any young women you’ve been seeing, yet you’re out quite often.”

All at once Peter blurted out, “I’ve been less than honest with you these past few months. I haven’t cut off my friendship with Kathleen. I’ve been seeing her every Sunday afternoon and sometimes during the week. I’m in love with her, and she’s in love with me. I want to marry her.”

John’s face went crimson, and Maria looked as if she might faint.

John was the first to speak. “You’re not serious!”

“I
am
serious, Dad.”

Maria’s ashen features turned rigid. “That girl’s got plenty of nerve! Coming in here acting so sweet and innocent, and all the time she was seeing you behind our backs!”

“Don’t blame Kathleen, Mom. It’s my doing. I’m the one who talked her into seeing me and keeping it from you. She balked at first, not wanting to do it without you knowing about it.”

“At
first?
Well, she did go along with it, didn’t she!”