Ireland Rose

  “Do you like to read then?”

  “Oh yes, I do. Most sincerely.”

  “My husband has an extensive library.” She saw the girl’s eyes widen and then shutter the joy.

  “I won’t be here long. Captain Wyatt says I must go away.”

  Rose wanted to cry, which these days, with her husband recently gone, she did quite easily.

  “Come.” She forced the tears back. She had to be strong for Matilda Jane. “We will worry about tomorrow….tomorrow.”

  Rose took her past her room and showed her where she bedded down in the event she needed anything, then took her to her own room.

  “Oh, it’s beautiful.” The girl’s eyes grew large.

  “It is yours.” Rose said goodnight and left her to Portia who had come up the back stairs and lit the room with a candle sitting on the night table.

  Rose walked slowly, yawning, thinking of herself at this age when she first received word she had a choice to make. Go to Ireland with her parents or stay in America and marry Captain Lovell. Somehow she knew she’d made the right decision at that time. Now, however, things had changed and even more so with this new development.

  Captain Wyatt had a child on the way and she could help or refuse. If he would not do his duty perhaps Matilda Jane and her child could travel with her to Ireland. Thoughts flew awry at this hour and she stumbled into bed with unanswered questions and welcomed the safety of sleep.

  Portia took the child in hand and helped her out of her clothes and into one of Rose’s soft flannel gowns and tucked her in. Before Matilda Jane could say thank you, the girl’s eyes closed. Portia chuckled as she patted her head. “Now we’s have another little girl in dis house to care for. And Miz Rose done growed up just like ‘at. Lord jus keep us all safe.” She smiled, licked her fingers and pinched out the flame. Soon enough it would be light.

  Chapter 31

  Something woke Rose out of her reverie. She had been dreaming of sheep like white dots on green hills. Ireland. Her father’s stories. There were so many sheep bleating that she could hardly think straight. When she woke it was Lily talking to her, repeating her name.

  “Miz Rose. Miz Rose. It be past ten o’the morn. Granmama says to come and get you. Dat girl Matilda Jane, she be up and working already.”

  “What? She’s working?” Rose raised herself on her elbows. She’d had so few hours of sleep, she could hardly manage to push the fuzz out of her brain.

  “Yes’m. She be sweeping ever-thing she can. She done did the verandah, the dining room and now she sweepin’ the walks out back in de garden.”

  “Lily, is she all right?”

  “She fine, Miz Rose. Jus fine. She like to work is all I gotta say.”

  Rose laughed out loud. “Lily, please tell your Grandmama that I will dress myself and be down in a little while.”

  Lily ran out, through the hall and down those stairs jumping off the last step like she always did before Rose could haul her gown up over her head. Some activity in this house was just what she needed. Captain Lovell would be proud to see it. Her heart felt lighter than it had in days.

  She chose a work-a-day dress, not wanting Matilda Jane to feel like a cast-off, wondering all the time while she worked her buttons, if the girl had any other clothes. She would speak to Captain Wyatt about that, too.

  With so many things to think about it would be good to make notes. She sat for a moment at the small desk and made a list. Captain Wyatt may be captain of his own ship, but he was far from reliable when it came to relationships, she concluded. That was where she might offer him a bit of assistance. She held the end of the charcoal pencil to her lips. Satisfied, she held the note down with a small cologne bottle and dashed from the room.

  Once at the head of the stairs, she lifted her dress and clambered down the stairs wondering what the ruckus below was about. Portia was armed with a broom and Lily was hiding behind her Granmama’s skirts.

  “Oh it’s just a garter snake.” Matilda Jane came around the corner with a writhing green serpent hanging off the end of a large branch. I’ll just take it back outdoors and let it go.”

  “No you ain’t, Miss Matilda Jane.” Portia’s eyes were large. “You go on and take that thing down to the river. I ain’t havin’ no snake in dis house, me walking around and stepping on it.” She shivered. “Go on now. Ain’t funny, you hauling that thing ‘round in this house.”

  “Okay.” The young girl said. “I’ll walk it on down and be back in a couple of minutes. But really, they don’t hurt you none.”

  “Lily, chile, let go of my skirts. Thing is gone, now. You see Miss Matilda Jane done took it off…” Portia lifted her skirts and watching the floor as she walked, made her way slowly to the outdoor kitchen, her eyes looking around every which a’way.

  Rose pressed her fingers over her mouth. She didn’t like those creatures either, but Portia’s big eyes caused her a guffaw that she could not contain. She turned and found Mr. Wyatt staring at her. Somehow he had managed to get inside without her seeing, probably wondering what all the shouting was about.

  If a man could look any worse, she couldn’t think how. His bruises were blue and black and green and yellow. He’d gotten himself into some sort of fray. When he lifted his hand, she saw him quickly cover a wince, as he removed his hat.

  “Mr. Wyatt….as you see we have had a rather disconcerting situation.”

  “A garter snake.”

  “Yes, but it was in the house.”

  “They are harmless, Mrs. Lovell.”

  His words sounded very much like she was a foolish child.

  “Maybe to you sir. But to my household, it was a frightening occurrence.” Especially when you have a more serious situation yourself, she wanted to say.

  He had managed with one sentence to dull the laughter that still lingered in her throat. Every time she remembered Portia’s face, Lily hanging onto her skirts, she felt a chuckle rumble in her throat.

  “I will return in a moment. If you would like to wait in my husband’s office, please do so.

  Rose picked up her skirts, but not too high and walked up the stairs like the lady she was. Once in her room, she let out a little laugh and snatched the paper from beneath the bottle. At least Captain Wyatt had come on his own this morning. For that she gave him a notch of approval. But he would certainly have to earn future notches.

  She straightened her back and slowly made her way down to the office. He was sitting there looking out the tall window, his right elbow on the chair, chin in hand. She must not be too judgmental…she had just read a few days ago that God and only God could judge another soul. She slipped in and took her husband’s chair, scooted it closer to the fire from behind the desk…she did not want Providence to have to chastise her.

  He ignored her presence for a few minutes so she waited, hands in her lap, forcing herself to let the room be quiet for as long as needed. This could not be easy for him, she reminded herself.

  Suddenly he cleared his throat and stood. There was very little space to pace; she wondered what he would do. This was not a man who stood still for long.

  He walked three steps, turned, walked two back, hands clasped behind him.

  “Mrs. Lovell. There is a situation of which I cannot give you details. You will be forced to trust me.”

  Rose didn’t know what to say. So this was it. He wanted her to cover for his sins? She was to trust him? Thoughts scattered. Then reason returned. Her husband was a good man and he trusted this man enough to leave him a ship and to oversee his young widow. She adjusted her thinking and conclude that this was God’s job, not hers.

  “Sir.” she stayed seated, preferring not to stand face to face, and besides, he didn’t stay still long enough … “My husband saw fit to leave you his ship and put me in your care. I will trust you.”

  Amazed at her own words, she felt a certain calmness come over her.

  When she looked up, he had stopped and with his dark gaze loo
ked her full in the eye.

  “Thank you Mrs. Lovell. I shall do you no harm.”

  “Thank you Captain Wyatt. Now may I have a few words with you?” She pulled out the list from a pocket in her dress.

  “You may.” He sat, elbows parked on his knees, she knew to keep himself still.

  “Miss Matilda Jane. What is her last name?”

  “Ginter. Matilda Jane Ginter.”

  With a pause she wrote out the name on her paper. “And sir what provisions have you made for clothing. Has she any belongings from the orphanage?” she tried to keep the frustration out of her voice.

  “I have spoken to the proprietor and will bring her belongings to you as soon as I collect them.” He answered curtly.

  Then, when should she expect to see you again?” Rose had not intended to ask that question.

  He stared at her before answering. “I’ll check in when I return from London.”

  “And that shall be perhaps six months from now?”

  Again he stared, “Yes. As you well know.”

  The conversation was dead-ending, so she slipped the paper back into her pocket and stood.

  With quick movements he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope. “”This should take care of her needs until I return.”

  She took the offered envelope and laid it on the desk, folded her hands at her waist. “Is that it then?”

  “That is it.”

  Rose found herself listening once again to the heavy booted steps as the long strides gave him his freedom. From this house. From her. From Miss Matilda Jane Ginter. Just when she thought she may abide Captain Wyatt, she found her liking of him returned to her original intuitions. He was a rogue and a rascal.

  Chapter 32

  Intuitions aside, Rose shook her head and went looking for lunch. She had missed breakfast. Portia having understood the nighttime interruption, let her sleep right through it. She found a plate in the warming oven and took her meal at the dining table. Not a single soul bothered her as she ate. Matilda Jane was gone to drop off the snake to the river, and Portia and Lily no doubt were in the garden looking for little green babies. Thomas and Emmanuel had gone to the stables chuckling.

  Stomach full and the little episode having made her laugh out loud for the first time in months, she set her dishes aside, grabbed a shawl from the closet underneath the stairs and took a seat on the porch swing out front. Christmas passed days ago and so had the new year. It was already the fifth day of January 1886. Where had the days gone? There had been so much to do with her husband’s passing and the services and the social rituals, she’d hardly had time to think.

  There would be days ahead, especially when Captain Wyatt was now planning a special trip abroad that she would have to take care of business with none other than Mr. Dalton. She would need divine assistance for that. Quick, she ran inside and up to her room.

  Her mother’s Bible was full of underlining and also the scrupulously kept family tree of both her parents. She gazed at the writing and smiled. She had in her hand the ability to change her life. Lord what would you have me do?

  Pulling her shawl closer she closed her eyes, and let her mind wander. Already the new year had arrived and she had hardly noticed. So much had happened after the Civil War. Slaves were freed. Some stayed behind and continued to work as domestic servant and laborers. Others had traveled to faraway places seeking new lives. The hurricane that her husband and Captain Wyatt had survived as they came across the rough waters. Her parents leaving and then both dying so quickly afterward. The passing of her husband and so soon after, the care of another young girl and a babe.

  All the crutches she leaned on had been kicked from underneath her. At least in one sense. The people she loved most were gone. But she had been left with a beautiful house on the Battery, some of Charleston’s most sought after real estate. And a ship with her name upon it and the income it brought in. She had no real idea of what her husband’s property and possessions were worth. At the reading of the will she assumed the figure had been read aloud, but she had not heard. Her brain could not contain all that had happened in so short a time.

  All in all, she surmised, things would work out. They always did. Just like her mother said.

  Since it was Tuesday, still early in the week, Rose made a mental list of all that needed to be done. She was going to make certain she got in touch with Mrs. Jamison again, to see about the little house her husband willed to her. How she could help perhaps in setting it up. Maybe they would use the house as a place of business so they could support themselves while living there. She had the address written down somewhere. And she must go back to St. Michael’s Church. She missed the pastor’s sermons.

  Then there was the idea of whether or not Miss Ginter should be seen in public. It would only cause a stir and questions would have to be answered. Perhaps that was reason enough to find out when the child was due and to make sure Matilda Jane would spend as many days out of doors before she had to settle in.

  Then what would she tell her society friends? She tapped her finger on her chin in thought and soon enough it was apparently clear. She had hired the woman as a live-in companion from the orphanage. Ava and Stella would understand and she didn’t much care who else did, come to think of it. Rose did not want to damage her husband’s good standing within Charleston’s society, she mused, serious in her quest to make her husband proud. But more so the Lord, she concluded.

  Twice she thought of other jobs for Matilda Jane. She only knew she liked to work. Rose would need to find out her skills and see what she could do. And there would be a stipend for her services, making her a legitimate employee. Happy with that decision, she wondered what would become of Nettie at Jamison’s. Rose had decided there would be no more fancy changes in her home. It was already beautiful and her monies could be used elsewhere.

  Before she knew it, the sun had gone behind a cloud and she was shivering. Gathering her thoughts, she went inside and smelled something good. Chicken. Her brain instantly dashed to the thought Captain Lovell would enjoy….and then she remembered. He didn’t need food anymore. Sadness settled into her heart. What was food and riches and sunshine when there was no body to receive it or enjoy it? She knew she’d only begun to understand the brevity of life. She made her way to the cookstove near the garden and smiled. Portia, Lily, and Matilda Jane were conversing about food and spices.

  Rose heard enough to know Portia was informing Matilda Jane about lemon grass and what meats to pair it with, the lavender, how it made the best packets for sweet-smelling clothes. Lily finding it too difficult to stand still began to gather flowers for the table. Everything still bloomed, but many plants had gone to sleep during the cooler months. And so there were fewer choices.

  Lily nearly ran into Rose as she dashed by the lemon bush. “Miz Rose. I nearly done lost my lunch. You scared me silly.” Her hand rested on her stomach.

  Rose laughed lightly. “I’m sorry Lily.”

  Chapter 33

  An entire week passed with hardly a notice, until Rose received a missive from Captain Wyatt dated January 10, 1887.

  It read:

  Coming by to hand off Miss Ginter’s personal possessions. I have only

  recently received permission to attain them from the orphanage. And to inform you that Captain Quinn and I are setting off tomorrow. We should arrive in London the first week of March if winds are at our back. Farmer’s Almanac says we are in for a mild winter and experts say and we can expect a safe crossing. Should you have any concerns with the bank they should be taken care of on the morrow. I will leave the key to the strong box. Captain Wyatt

  His printed message was of a good hand, except for his signature which was unreadable. She stuffed the missive in her pocket and sat down at her desk to write her own. Everyone had been busy with storing winter vegetables. Matilda Jane had already become part of the family. Her principles of hard work made Portia’s work lighter and the girl was never
still. Just like Captain Wyatt. Their child would be like those locomotives that ran down the track at full speed.

  The next morning as they were taking breakfast in the dining room, she heard a loud knock.

  “Captain Wyatt.” She said immediately and stuffed the last bite in her mouth.

  “Dat man knock the loudest of anyone I knows.” Portia grumped as she picked up dishes. “He shore do. At least he comin’ in da daylight.”

  “Would you answer Emmanuel?” I want to run above stairs and get my paper. Rose took the servant’s stairs so she would not have to dash up with Mr. Wyatt standing below, snatched the list, smoothed her skirts and came down the front stairs into the foyer, with ladylike precision.

  His hat was on the newel post, but he was not there. Thankful, she pressed her curls into place and making sure she was heard with the click of her shoes, made her way to the office.

  “Sir.” She greeted him. “It is a sunny day despite the cold.” She said happily as she entered.

  He looked up from whatever state of mind he was in and bowed slightly. She appreciated his manners, although his life choices were less desirable. She admonished herself immediately. His life was no concern of hers.

  She scrambled to find the right words. “Shall we sit?” she offered and waited for him to speak since he was the one who had written, surely he must have an issue to discuss. After a lengthy wait, him pacing again, she stood. “Is there something you wish to speak of Mr. Wyatt?”

  * * *

  What he wanted to say he couldn’t speak of. This young woman would not understand that he had privacy issues; if anyone found out, there would be trouble in Charleston society. Which he certainly despised, but it would hurt people he loved.

  Instead he chose to exit the too small office. “I have Miss Ginter’s things on the verandah. I’ll get them.”

  Ramming his fingers through his hair, he felt at a loss, as always, trying to keep the balance between society’s rules and plain common sense. For him the line had always been blurred. And this young woman, so much like the girl he once loved, had curtailed his ability to speak when he was around her.