The Brickmaker's Bride (23 page)

Laura bristled. The bank president was giving Ewan the same
response she’d gotten from Winston only a few hours ago. “If you’ll excuse me, Ewan, I need to go and speak with my mother.”

He pushed to his feet as she stood. “I’m sorry. This is a party, and here I am talking about my problems at the bank. Forgive me.”

“You weren’t boring me, and you don’t need to apologize. I’m the one who brought up the brickyard.” She glanced across the room and signaled her mother. “However, before we left Woodfield Manor, I told Mother I needed to speak with her.”

She pointed to the dance card on her wrist. “A lady isn’t supposed to mention empty lines on her dance card, but I’d be pleased if you’d fill in a few of mine.”

He grinned and gave a nod. “I’d be delighted, so long as you don’t mind having your toes stepped on several times.”

“I’ll be pleased to take my chances.” She held out her dance card, and his fingers rested on her hand for a little longer than necessary. Her pulse quickened as she looked into Ewan’s eyes and remembered his kiss. That moment had confirmed what she’d tried to deny since she’d first met him. Her feelings for him went much deeper than friendship. This was one time Winston would not be pleased he’d been correct.

Laura escorted her mother to the upstairs parlor that had been set aside for the women to refresh themselves throughout the evening. Several ladies sat in front of mirrors, carefully repinning their coiffures or checking lip rouge while they exchanged the latest gossip. Laura grasped her mother’s arm and pointed toward a brocade settee in the far corner. “Let’s sit over there, where we won’t be overheard.”

Her mother feigned a look of alarm as she clasped a hand to her bodice. “Oh, this does sound like it’s going to be a clandestine conversation. How exciting!”

“Don’t make fun, Mother. What I’m going to ask of you truly must be carried out in the strictest of confidence. Otherwise, the consequences will be life altering for many of those in attendance here.”

Her mother leaned back into the cushioned settee. “You’ve certainly managed to gain my attention. Don’t keep me waiting any longer, or my heart may fail me.”

F
our days after the party, Laura was surprised when Kathleen Roark arrived at the front door of Woodfield Manor not long after breakfast. Laura was so amazed that she peered around Kathleen, certain Margaret Crothers must be following on her sister’s heels. Though Kathleen seemed a sweet young woman, Laura hadn’t had much opportunity to visit with her. Kathleen’s previous visits to Woodfield Manor had always been in the company of Margaret, who overshadowed her younger sister and afforded Kathleen little opportunity to interact.

“Will your sister be joining us?”

Kathleen shook her head. “Nay. I’m alone.”

Laura stepped to the side. “Do come in. I’m pleased to see you.”

Kathleen obviously did not realize that proper etiquette required an invitation before paying a call so early in the day. Otherwise, a written note requesting a visit and allowing ample time for acceptance or refusal should have been delivered.

Catherine hurried from the kitchen, wiping her hands on
the corner of her white apron. “I’m sorry, Miss Laura. I was kneading dough, and you got to the door before me.”

“No need for an apology, Catherine. When you have a moment, could you bring us something cool to drink?” The maid scurried back to the kitchen, and Laura waved Kathleen toward the parlor. “Please sit down. You look overheated.”

The midmorning sun had ascended over the towering trees in the yard and promised another surprisingly uncomfortable day for late September. The heat had colored Kathleen’s cheeks crimson, and perspiration dotted her forehead. Her black leather shoes and the hem of her plaid skirt were coated with a fine layer of dust.

She dropped into one of the overstuffed chairs, snapped open her fan, and flapped it with a vengeance. “I didn’t realize it was so warm, or I would have chosen to arrive earlier.”

Laura bit back a grin. If Kathleen had arrived any earlier, she would have been on their doorstep in time for breakfast.

Kathleen leaned forward and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “I didn’t want Margaret to know I was going to pay you a visit, so I had her carriage driver deliver me to Ewan’s house and then sent Margaret’s carriage back home. I had planned to have Ewan’s driver bring me here but discovered he and the girls had taken the carriage into town.” She sighed and sank deeper into the chair. “I had no choice but to walk here in this terrible heat.”

Laura didn’t mention the fact that Kathleen could have waited until after the sun had begun to lower in the western sky. Then again, she was likely expected home before then. Catherine returned with glasses and a pitcher of lemonade.

The maid glanced at Kathleen before turning to Laura. “I made up this pitcher special for your mother, but she’s resting. Says she has a headache.”

“It’s fortunate for us that you made the lemonade, but I’m sorry to hear Mrs. Woodfield isn’t well.” Kathleen didn’t wait for Catherine or Laura to complete their hostess duties. Instead, she grasped the pitcher handle and proceeded to fill the two empty glasses to the brim. After downing a large gulp, she placed the glass back on the tray. “That’s delicious. I apologize for my lack of etiquette, but I was parched.”

She fidgeted with the pleats in her skirt. “Margaret says she can’t take her eyes off me when we’re out among her friends. She says I’m truly an embarrassment, but I can’t remember all those rules. Truth is, I don’t know how Margaret learned ’em all so fast, but she’s got her a mind like a steel trap.” Kathleen tapped the side of her head. “Once something gets in there, it stays forever.”

“Your sister is very fortunate to have an excellent memory, but I don’t think you’ve ever exhibited bad manners in front of me, Kathleen. You poured a glass of lemonade for me, so I don’t think your manners could be considered lacking by anyone.” Laura reached forward and patted the girl’s hand. “Besides, I’m certain you were very thirsty.”

Kathleen continued to fidget. Several times she wiped her handkerchief around her glass to remove the condensation, straightened the pleats in her skirt, and glanced about the room as if she needed to catch sight of something that would calm her.

When Laura could stand the tension no longer, she set her glass on the tray and looked at Kathleen. “I’m delighted to have you visit, but I have a feeling there’s something in particular that’s brought you to Woodfield Manor. Am I correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Kathleen didn’t look up from wiping her glass.

Laura could only surmise this was going to be a game of cat
and mouse, but she didn’t know if she was the cat or the mouse. “Did you wish to speak with my mother?”

Kathleen shrank back. “Oh no. I could never talk to Mrs. Woodfield about my problem.”

At least Laura had been able to discover there was a problem and Kathleen needed to discuss it with her. Now, if she could just pry the girl out of her shell and get her to reveal the problem . . . “Have things been chaotic at home since the mishap at the brickyard?”

“Aye. My sister has been on a blithering rampage. What with all the money she’s spent building the new house and buying all the furnishings, she’s worked herself into quite a frenzy. Of course, her greatest fear is that she’ll lose all the worldly belongings she finds so important. But she’s also fretting about what people will say if the brickyard is seized by the bank. She says we’ll all have to leave the state if that happens.”

Laura shook her head. “I think your sister may be overreacting a bit. There are other people who have suffered business losses, and they’ve managed to continue living in West Virginia. Besides, I’m hopeful financial matters can be rearranged so that there’s no seizure at the brickyard.” Laura took a sip of her lemonade. “Is that what brought you for a visit today? Concern over your sister?”

“Aye, but not regarding the matters I mentioned. There’s another bit of a problem. One that I’ve not yet mentioned to my sister.” Kathleen’s fingers trembled at the mention of her sister. “I fear if I tell Margaret, she’ll burst forth in a hurricane of rage that won’t soon be forgotten. I remember how she ranted at Hugh back in Ireland when—” The sad-eyed girl stopped short and gave a slight shake of her head. “I should not be tellin’ family secrets. It’s not proper, and that’s not the reason I came here.”

Laura wished Kathleen would speak up, but she didn’t want
to push her. The young woman appeared ready to swoon each time her sister’s name was mentioned. “Whatever the reason, I’m glad you decided to pay me a visit. Rose and the twins come over quite often.”

“Aye, they’ve told me about their visits. Margaret doesn’t want the girls to come, but Ewan told her that he’d make the decisions regarding his sisters.” She straightened her drooping shoulders. “And I say good for Ewan! He’s the only one who’s ever had the courage to stand up to Margaret.” She covered her mouth with her fingers. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You need not worry, Kathleen. The girls have already told me that Margaret isn’t fond of having them visit Woodfield Manor, though I don’t understand why.”

“You do not know?” When Laura shook her head, the girl’s eyes grew as large as silver dollars. “My sister fears you want to continue to have a say in the brickyard. Hugh has told her the idea is foolish, but she says if you’d had a husband, you would never have sold the business. She thinks you hope to marry Ewan so you can gain control of the business, and she’s decided you’re trying to win the girls over in order to win Ewan’s affection.” She ducked her head. “Margaret even tried to make a match between me and Ewan, but he was quick to tell her she’d not be choosing his wife. I was thankful for his courage. I couldn’t have been as firm with Margaret, but Ewan is not the man I want to marry.”

A rich shade of pink returned to Kathleen’s cheeks at the mention of marriage. Was that why she’d come to visit? Did she fear telling Margaret she was going marry? Did she need help planning her wedding? Laura’s mind swirled with that possibility.

“Do you have a beau you’re planning to marry? Do you want me to help you with your wedding plans?” When the girl didn’t
immediately respond, Laura let out a slight gasp. “It’s Terrance O’Grady, the young man who danced with you at the Hogmanay party.” Laura grinned. “Am I right?”

“You’re partly right and partly wrong.” Her shoulders drooped back into their earlier slumped position. “I do love Terrance, but I’ve not come to ask you about planning a wedding.” She inhaled a long breath. “The truth of the matter is . . . I’m going to have a baby.”

Laura grasped her lemonade glass in a tight hold. She needed to remain composed and supportive. The last thing Kathleen needed was a barrage of criticism from her. Margaret would be sure to voice her condemnation in a loud and lengthy discourse. “If you are to have a child, then it seems a wedding is what’s needed. Don’t you agree?”

“Aye, ’tis true, but I’ve not told anyone but you. Terrance does not know, and I’m not so sure he’s going to look fondly on the news.” Her voice warbled and she swallowed hard. “We began to secretly meet each other a few weeks before the Hogmanay party, and he promised to speak to Hugh about courting me, but after all these months, he still hasn’t gained the courage. He hasn’t come to meet me for several weeks now.” She folded her hands in her lap. “By my reckoning, the babe will be born in March.”

“I see.” Laura searched for something more to say, but the girl’s announcement caught her off guard.

Shame clouded Kathleen eyes. “Margaret is going to be as mad as a wet hen. There will be no mollifying her once she finds out.”

“Just because you haven’t seen Terrance doesn’t mean he won’t do the right thing. After all, your sister has made it clear he’s not welcome to call on you.” Laura couched her words with as much hope as she could muster, but she knew Margaret would prove a formidable opponent to the idea of a marriage to
Terrance. Still, with a baby on the way, what other choice was available to the girl? Margaret might not like the idea, but she would have to accept the marriage.

Kathleen’s lips curved in a slight smile. “Maybe you’re right about Terrance. He used to sneak over to see me after the others were in bed, but I’ve waited for him most every night lately, and he hasn’t come back. Maybe Margaret discovered we were meeting and had Hugh go and tell him to stay away.”

Laura didn’t miss the glimmer of hope in Kathleen’s eyes. “I believe the first thing you must do is talk to Terrance. Tell him about the baby and make him understand that no matter what Margaret or Hugh says, you want to become his wife.”

Minutes crawled by before Kathleen slowly nodded. “I know you’re right. And I know I must talk to him right away, but . . .” She wrung her hands together. “Would you go with me? Could you have your driver take us to the livery in town?” Apprehension clung to her words like thick molasses.

Laura’s mind reeled. She hadn’t expected to be drawn further into Kathleen’s plight, yet how could she refuse the girl? “I’ll have Zeke bring the buggy around to the front. In the meantime, let me go upstairs and tell my mother that I’m going to be leaving the house for a while.”

When she returned downstairs, Kathleen was pacing the front hallway, her footfalls muffled by the Axminster carpeting. “You didn’t tell your mother about me, did you?” Worry lines creased her forehead.

Laura pulled on her gloves as they walked outside, where Zeke stood beside the horse and carriage. “I merely said that I was driving you into Bartlett and wasn’t sure when I would return. Since she’s suffering one of her headaches, she’ll likely be in bed most of the day. She waved me off without any questions, though she may have a few when I return.”

They hadn’t gone far when Kathleen suggested they stop at the mercantile. “Then you can tell your mother we went shopping.” She fidgeted with her reticule. “I have enough money to purchase some thread. I wouldn’t want you to tell a lie on my account.”

“Don’t worry about what I tell Mother. I can worry about that. Instead, why don’t you decide what you’re going to say to Terrance when we get into Bartlett.”

“Aye. ’Tis true I need to give that some thought.”

Late summer and early fall had been unusually warm and dry. Dust plumes rolled from beneath the buggy as they continued along the sunbaked dirt road. Silence stretched between them like a yawning chasm. Kathleen’s hands never stilled during the ride, a sure sign she continued to fret about her meeting with Terrance.

When they approached the outskirts of town, Kathleen turned pale. “What if he isn’t there? What if he won’t talk to me?”

“I’m sure he’s going to be thrilled to see you.” She hoped her words offered a bit of reassurance.

Truth be told, Laura couldn’t even imagine the fear that Kathleen likely felt at this moment. She pulled back on the reins and slowed the horse as they entered town and rode past the mercantile, the bank, the milliner’s shop, and a host of other businesses that lined Bartlett’s main street. Laura glanced at Kathleen. The girl sat with her shoulders tensed and her stare fastened upon the unpainted frame building that housed the livery. Kathleen didn’t move a muscle once the buggy came to a halt.

Laura patted the girl’s hand and offered an encouraging smile. “I’ll wait here until you make certain Terrance is inside. If he’s there, step to the door and wave me on. I’ll go to the mercantile, and you can walk over when you’ve finished talking to him.”

“Aye.” She didn’t appear capable of uttering anything more.

Laura watched as Kathleen disappeared inside the livery and then reappeared and waved. Laura had offered a silent prayer that Terrance was at the livery and their talk would go well. Perhaps she and Kathleen would be purchasing fabric for a wedding dress before they left town. The thought pleased her. Though not the best of circumstances to begin a marriage, Laura hoped the two of them would find happiness in spite of any obstacles Margaret might place in their way.

In the mercantile, she made her way down several aisles before stopping to admire some lace that would add a lovely touch to a dress for Kathleen.

“I thought that was your buggy I saw outside.”

Laura startled and discovered Winston was standing only a few steps away.