Steadfast Heart (13 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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Ahead in a stately golden room a dressmaker's dummy stood gowned in ivory satin and lace. The gown was exquisite, and Lenore saw no need to hide her approval. “It is most grand. I don't think I've ever seen a wedding gown more lovely.”

“Oh, how stupid!” Sabina hurried into the room and crossed to where a young maid was dusting. Without warning she began to hit the girl. “You fool. You'll get my dress dirty. Do you not know to cover it before dusting this room?”

Lenore watched in horror as Sabina beat the girl over and over about the head and shoulders. Had she not been so shocked she might have intervened. Instead, she stood frozen to the ground. Never in her life had she ever seen anyone treat someone, even a servant, so poorly.

The girl was kneeling on the floor sobbing before Sabina finally stopped. “Get out of here before I start in again. Don't ever come in here to dust unless that gown is first covered.”

The girl nodded and gathered herself up. She hurried from the room, passing Lenore with a look of utter terror. Blood trickled from her lip, but there was no time to offer her assistance. The girl fled before Lenore could so much as offer a nod.

“You hurt her,” Lenore said, looking at Sabina. “How could you just beat her like that? She made a mistake, but you acted as though it were intentionally done.”

“It doesn't matter,” Sabina said with a shrug. “She's just a servant and she must learn her place.”

“She's a human being,” Lenore insisted, ashamed that she hadn't done something to stop Sabina.

“I say she's nothing,” Sabina replied. “My father can hire a hundred others just like her. She was not trained properly, and I shall dismiss her tomorrow.”

“And your parents will have nothing to say about this?” Lenore asked.

Olivia spoke before Sabina could. “Mother says we must manage our staff if we're to learn to run a productive household of our own.”

Lenore wanted to say much more but held her tongue. Obviously these young women had been brought up in ways that Lenore could not understand. Such cruelty for a mistake was abominable in her mind but evidently acceptable in the Montgomery household.

“Come get a closer look at my gown.” Sabina walked to the dressmaker's dummy. “Do not touch the fabric lest you leave oil marks on the gown. Mama says that human fingers are always secreting oil, and it would stain the satin.”

Lenore hadn't heard such a thing but nodded in agreement. She had no intention of touching the dress anyway, especially not after what she'd witnessed. Goodness only knew whether Sabina would start beating her about the head should she step out of line.

The wedding dress was beautiful. The bustled back flowed into a twenty-five-foot train that had been carefully stretched out to keep it from wrinkling. Beading had been sewn into the material to make the image of flowers. It must have cost a small fortune, Lenore surmised, feeling rather sick.

“The train is completely removable so that I may wear the gown again after the wedding,” Sabina told her. “I think it would be most wonderful to wear it to the opera this fall.”

“When is your wedding?” Lenore asked, feeling sicker by the minute. She longed to get away from the company of these young women who held life so cheaply.

“The marriage will take place on the twentieth of May. It is to be held in a grand cathedral, and I will have ten attendants.”

“I am to be one of them,” Olivia offered, appearing excited. Her sister gave her a harsh glare, and immediately the girl quieted and lowered her head.

“How exciting for all of you,” Lenore said, smiling. For a mo
ment she wondered what it would be like to have such a grand gown. However, as she looked around her and then back to the sisters, Lenore could think only of the young maid.

There had been a time when Lenore would have let the matter go. She hadn't been raised to be cruel or physical with servants. However, she had been told that servants were not on the same social level as she was; therefore their feelings and concerns weren't to be considered. Lenore was to be pampered and spoiled and to enjoy all the wealth her father's good investments and business could afford.

She had heard her mother say at least a hundred times that they were among the privileged who could live well, with great beauty around them. Now her words seemed hollow. What really mattered were people, Lenore realized.

Abrianna had helped her to see that. Lenore sighed. Abrianna, with her heart of gold—solid gold, not just gilding. Abrianna had taught Lenore to see the poor and their needs with the intention of offering help. She knew her father and mother gave generously to various charities, but Lenore also knew they would never dirty their hands by stopping to share food or clothing with those people. And they definitely wouldn't allow themselves to be found in some of the areas Abrianna visited.

Lenore looked down at her own gown and thought it all rather silly now. The gown's cost could have bought bread for a hundred people. Lenore suddenly felt ashamed. She longed more than ever for home. Why had she allowed herself to become so selfish?

“How is your intended employed?” Sabina asked, bringing Lenore out of her thoughts.

“He's a lawyer from Chicago, but presently he's in Seattle attending to his sister's needs,” she replied without thinking.

Sabina smirked. “My fiancé is a highly respected man of personal wealth inherited from his family. He doesn't need to work.” She sounded quite pleased with this announcement.

Lenore met the younger woman's expression. “He must get very bored.”

“Ha!” Sabina shook her head and laughed. “When you are rich, you do not bore easily. My Stephen has many interests—the arts, the opera, and always his investments and holdings. But rather than have to see to these things himself, he has several men who do his bidding.”

“How nice. You must be very proud.”

Sabina looked momentarily confused, as if unsure whether Lenore had just insulted her or offered praise.

Lenore had little patience for her. “Does your fiancé do anything to assist those less fortunate?”

“But of course,” Sabina replied, regaining her composure. “He donates to many foundations that help the poor and needy, but he also stresses that they must be willing to do for themselves. Too many are just lazy and refuse to help themselves. Stephen has made this a strong stand of his, and I am proud of him.”

Lenore smiled sadly. “But of course . . . you would be.”

The day that Wade and Thane came to install some much needed cabinets in the kitchen was also the day that a third man turned up dead. Aunt Miriam had ordered the cabinets to replace those damaged by the water leak, as well as to offer additional storage. Wade had made the cabinets in his spare time and now brought with him news of the murder. Again, the body was found in the alleyway behind the building, and once again Abrianna knew the man who'd been killed. At least
this time she didn't have to identify the body. The police were well familiar with the old man and his panhandling ways. His name was William Elliot—most of his friends just called him Billy Boy. Abrianna had called him Bill. He was very fond of Aunt Miriam's bread pudding.

“The police say he was killed elsewhere and left here,” Wade told them. “Even so, it would seem most dangerous for any of you to be out alone.” He fixed his gaze on Abrianna. “Very dangerous.”

“We had determined to hire someone to run errands and bring in groceries,” Aunt Miriam admitted. “It seems a terrible thing to be a prisoner in our own home, but that is what we have become. Mr. Booth has agreed to help us, so along with your assistance, I'm sure we will not want.”

Abrianna wasn't at all pleased with this turn of events. “I don't see why we need worry. The killer has only taken helpless men. Not that I don't miss them dearly and abhor what happened.” She paused for breath and continued. “Still, we needn't be fretful. He hasn't gone after any women. Aunt Selma has always told us that in times of testing and trial, our calm spirit and willingness to endeavor are signs of our faith in God. I know my faith is strong enough to continue walking out when shopping needs to be done.”

“I wouldn't want you to be alone,” Wade said. “You may think you're capable of fending for yourself. You may even have made friends with the entire population of the friendless, but you are just one young woman.”

Abrianna clenched her hands into fists but kept them hidden in the folds of her skirt. “I may be just one woman, but I am a woman of God, and as such, I must do what He would have me do.”

Wade narrowed his eyes. “He would have you respect your elders and yield to their authority, as the Bible says we should.”

“Yes, but Jesus separated from His parents when He was twelve and was later found in the temple. He told His authority that He had to be about His Father's business.”

“Last time I checked . . . you weren't Jesus,” Wade said seriously. He picked up several nails and went to where Thane was lining up a wood strip to hold the cabinets.

Abrianna wasn't about to let him get away with this. She was full of fight, and no one was going to lock her up in this building. “There were others who defied authority to serve God,” she said, going after Wade.

Aunt Miriam took hold of her arm before she could cross the kitchen. Abrianna came to an abrupt stop, surprised at the old woman's strength. “You will not go out without an escort,” Aunt Miriam declared. “I won't have it.”

“I won't either,” Aunt Selma threw in.

“Nor me,” Aunt Poisie said, not to be left out.

“If I have to,” Wade said, crossing to where Abrianna stood, “I'll nail your door and windows shut and lock you in your room.”

Abrianna stomped her foot, something she had rarely done since her early teens. “You don't care at all about what's important to me. No one cares.” She pulled away from her aunt's hold, embarrassed that tears were coming to her eyes.

“Without my help, many will go hungry or cold. Some might even die,” she said, shaking her head. “And their blood will be on your hands, Wade Ackerman. All because you do not care.”

“I care,” Wade told her. “But I care more about your well-being than theirs. They survived life on the streets before you came, and I'm sure they will continue to do so when you are gone. But I would like to see that end not come for a very, very long time.”

Abrianna looked to the others. Would no one champion her cause? Her shoulders slumped slightly, and her breath came out in a sigh. “I shall take the subject up with the Lord. He will show me what I am to do.”

“Well, if He disagrees with me and your aunts,” Wade said with a grin, “then I guess we'll have to have words.”

Kolbein sat toying with his pencil and glancing up from time to time to check the clock. It seemed impossible to keep his mind on work. He had heard nothing more about Greta, and he feared the worst. She was naïve and unable to take care of herself. She needed him, and yet she had run away from home.

He leaned back in the leather chair. It was as if his sister had disappeared into thin air. No one had seen her. No one knew her. Since finding her gown at that secondhand store, Kolbein hadn't been able to find anything that would even hint at Greta still being in Seattle.

The clerk came to his door and knocked lightly before entering. “I have those papers you asked for, Mr. Booth.”

Kobein sat up. “Just put them there.” He pointed to the right side of his desk. “Thank you.”

Once the young man was gone, Kolbein got to his feet and walked to the window. He looked out on the busy city street and wondered if his sister was among the pedestrians. She could be that close, he thought, and yet he'd never know it.

He caught sight of a redheaded woman and immediately thought of Abrianna Cunningham. A smile touched his lips. She was quite a rambunctious soul, but she had a heart of gold. Of course, thinking of Abrianna led his thoughts to the one place he'd avoided. Lenore.

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