An Unsinkable Love

chapter 22


Bree descended the wide staircase, letting her hand slide down the smooth, polished handrail. She admired the intricately carved floral panels holding it up. The house was very well cared for and decorated with great skill. The colors were muted; a soft sage green, dusty rose and cream interspersed with touches of gold and black. The honey-hued parquet floor contrasted nicely with the darker wood trim.

Prisms of light sparkled on the walls from sunlight glinting off a large crystal chandelier centered over the foyer. When she first entered the house, she'd been so busy watching where she was going, she hadn't had time to admire the vast room.

If the rest of the house was finished in the same style, it would truly be a grand home.

Laughter and conversation from a room to the left of the stair trickled into the foyer. She made her way to the broad doorway and peeked in. She lost track of time as she listened to Malcolm and Elizabeth talking and laughing together. How wonderful it must be to have a family able to sit together and laugh, and talk about all manner of things.

"Come in, my dear," Elizabeth called as she noticed Bree.

Malcolm sat across from his mother on a short settee, while Elizabeth occupied a big wing-back chair. The room carried the same color scheme as the foyer. Floor-to-ceiling windows at the back of the room let in light and provided a close-up view of the same gardens Bree's room overlooked.

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Malcolm stood and stepped toward her with a smile. He took her arm and led her to the settee. The size of the seat required their sides rest snuggly together as he laid his arm along the seatback, his hand resting against her neck. She smiled up at him tentatively and was rewarded with a gentle squeeze of her shoulder.

Bree relaxed back into the seat and decided it was just where she wanted to be.

"Are you comfortable in your room, love?" he asked.

The endearment sent shivers down her spine. "It's wonderful. Lady Rothberry would hate the whole house. It makes hers look like a moldy farmhouse in comparison. And the colors are perfect."

Malcolm glanced at his mother and nodded. "Mother has an eye for colors and fabrics, which is why Father enjoyed her collaboration. The two of them would come up with our fashion designs all by themselves. Even after seeing the French couturiers, I don't think any of them have as much talent as she does."

Elizabeth colored at her son's compliment. "Malcolm, you do exaggerate. I was thrilled to see the new season's designs.

All I can do is make an attempt to copy them for our own clothing. I'll never be that good."

Malcolm shook his head and looked serious. "Don't sell yourself short, Mother. I'll bet your sketch book was filled with new, improved versions of what you saw there. It's too bad it rests on the bottom of the North Atlantic." He explained to Bree, "Mother is an excellent artist. She can sketch a dress 161

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faster than anyone I've ever seen. I'll take you to the office with me later and show you some of her sketch books."

"I would love to see them."

"Bree, dear, didn't you design the gowns for your employer?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes, but Lady Rothberry was a woman of very limited taste. All her dresses were of the same style. I barely got away with changing trim and tiny details. Anything else and she would not accept it."

"We must work together, then. It will be such fun to discuss my designs with another woman."

"I would be honored to make patterns and sew for you,"

Bree said, excited to think she might have a hand in real design work.

From then on the conversation centered around clothing—

from type of cloth to colors, cuts, trims and lengths. When the women began discussing finer details, Malcolm stood and announced, "You two seem to have the situation well in hand.

I think I'll take a ride on old Soldier. He's probably gotten fat and lazy since I've been gone, and I know I could use the exercise. I won't be long."

Bree watched with admiration as he strode out of the room.

Elizabeth laughed and repeated her question again, drawing Bree's attention from the now-empty foyer. "Don't worry, my dear. You'll see so much of the boy you'll find yourself glad for a few moments alone now and again."

Bree shook her head. "I don't think so. I really don't."

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They sat in the sunny room, sipping tea and discussing fashion throughout the afternoon. The sun had sunk behind a low hill by the time a maid appeared in the doorway.

"Cook says to ask when you'd be wantin' dinner, ma'am?"

Elizabeth looked up at the mantel clock. "Tell her to plan on seven o'clock. Malcolm has gone riding and Eldon has not yet returned from town."

"Very good, ma'am." The girl made a brief curtsy and disappeared.

At the mention of Eldon's name, Elizabeth seemed to grow restless and got up. She strolled to the wall of windows and pushed a latch. Bree was surprised to see one of the windows open like a door. The latch was concealed in a wooden rosette that blended into the carved design of the massive twelve-foot-tall door. The sound of birds warbling and insects humming drifted into the room with an early evening breeze.

Elizabeth was pensive and Bree stood and walked over to her.

"What is it? You seem worried," Bree asked.

"I've been thinking about how much I missed it here and wondering what the next few months will bring. Early this year there was trouble. The government reduced the hours worked by women and children in the mills. Percy spearheaded the legislation but after he died, no one thought to explain the plan to the workers before it went into effect.

Then Eldon apparently forgot to tell the bookkeeper to increase the wages to keep their paychecks the same, at least he said he forgot. When they got their pay and saw it was less than they were used to, they held a strike. The mill owners tried to force the women back to work. It got so ugly 163

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that the workers tried to send their children away to keep them safe. Someone, Malcolm thinks Eldon, called in hired thugs to prevent the children from getting on the trains. The men behaved horribly, beating the women and even some children, then took the women to jail. I couldn't find Eldon so I went down to the police station and made them let everyone go. Of course Eldon was furious. He said I should have stayed out of business decisions, but by then it was too late."

Elizabeth turned away. "That was the first time he struck me.

He'll be livid now Malcolm is stepping in to manage the company."

Bree reached out and laid her hand on the older woman's arm. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but I really do know what it was like for you."

Elizabeth sighed heavily. "He's right to blame me. I'm foolish to think I can manage the business. I shouldn't meddle."

"Those are his words, aren't they?" Bree asked softly.

Elizabeth's mouth turned up in a hint of a smile. "You do know. Yes, to begin with, they were his words. Sometimes I can't help but believe them. It's been so awful. I didn't want anyone to know, especially Malcolm."

Bree nodded. "I understand, because I watched the same thing happen to my mother. I don't know how it was when they first married, but for as long as I can remember my father beat my mother, nearly every day. I listened to her pleas for mercy. I heard him tell her she was stupid, or clumsy, or ugly so many times. At first I thought every family acted like that, but then I went to school and found out it 164

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wasn't true. That wasn't love. My mother was smart too, and very talented. She was good and kind and pretty once. He took it all away and turned her into a shell of a person. I think when she realized she was dying she was glad, because she knew it would be over. I couldn't help her because I was too young, and then it was too late. When I saw you that first day, even though I'd never met you or your husband before, somehow I knew." She fell silent.

In a small voice Elizabeth said, "Eldon wasn't always like this. He was so very solicitous when we were courting and for months after we married. After that first time, it happened more often. Once, at a party, he heard someone asked me about a bruise. It didn't stop him, but he was very careful to make sure he didn't leave marks anyone could see. I know I'm not to blame, but when he's there, shouting at me, I can't think what to say."

"I know." Bree grasped Elizabeth's hand and gave it a sympathetic squeeze.

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An Unsinkable Love

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