Ireland Rose

  One thing she knew. As soon as was proper, she was going to ask Captain Lovell about those names. He must have known them, because he had lived here for about that long.

  The next one hinted of an elopement. Her eyes strained now to read every word, W was asking Darby to go with him. To trust him. He hinted of a position but did not say what. Would she trust him?

  The next spoke of the joy and excitement they would soon enjoy, married, free of titles, ties and family expectations. W’s words exuded happiness that was soon to be theirs.

  Hands shaking, and her heart wishing this was not the last letter, she slowly opened it and began to read:

  My dear Mrs. Raleigh:

  It is with deepest regret I am scripting my final correspondence to you.

  I am informed that your father persuaded you to marry Mr. Norbert Raleigh these three days before our planned elopement. Should I have contrived the worst in my mind, I could not have suspected this. Except I know your heart is so easily persuaded that I know quite well how your father could turn your tenderness away from me.

  Contrary to the fact that you were certain of my regard and my efforts to attain your father’s blessing you chose this path. My one regret is that I did not have time to inform you of my recent appointment as Captain of a worthy ship with an annual salary that would surely have secured you a suitable position among Charleston society, as your father wished. But most importantly, with a man who so dearly loved you.

  Alas, it is too late for such musings. I must inform you that I shall remove myself to London to avoid all embarrassment on your behalf for once associating with a man of lesser means. I cannot bear to look upon your happiness in your present circumstances.

  As it is, I have lost you forever, and can now offer only my sincere wish for your happiness.

  I leave the letter in our private post location hoping that you will find it.

  W

  Rose found the missive crumpled in her hands. After years of correspondence they had not married. He had loved her since she was eleven years of age and he fourteen. Tears fell onto the pages and she cried for Darby and W…for herself…for all who found love and could not attain it in the end. The wick fluttered reminding her the lantern was almost out of oil.

  Slowly, she smoothed the letter across her knee grateful the tears had not ruined the ink and placed it back in the envelope, then back into the box just as she had found them. She rose slowly, opened the trunk and put the three boxes away. They were out of sight, but now she had been forever branded with the story.

  Chapter 19

  Rose slept little that night, thinking about love that is true and then lost. Portia pushed open the curtains and she hid her burning eyes with a hand. “Come on up chile. You got callers a’comin’. Been two knocks on the door already and you ain’t even dressed.

  “Who called?” Rose heard the scratch in her voice and saw Portia’s concern in her eyes.

  “Mrs. Jamison sent Arella with a note. And Mrs. McGuire done tole me to get you outta that bed. Lookee at the time. Come on, pick your dress and I’ll get you into it. Breakfast is waitin’.

  Rose sat while Portia fussed with her hair. “Der now don’t you look nice dis mornin’. Go on down and keep those ladies busy. I got’s plenty to do in the kitchen. You and your ladies’ll be wanting some treats to go along with yo tea. And shore ‘nuff I got some good lemons to make a lemon puddin’ for dat cake.”

  Portia was trying to lift her spirits.

  “It’s that bad?” She gazed into brown eyes for the answer.

  “Yep.” Her maid said and smiled. “But this too shall pass chile…you been up in dat attic too much, looking at things that don’t concern you none and now lookie here, you all sad and cryin’ dem eyes out.”

  “How did you know I was up there?”

  “I done checked on you to see if my baby girl was all right.” She admitted with a huge smile.

  “Oh Portia. I’m so glad you love me.” Rose threw herself into the woman’s arms.

  “Now don’t be going on like that.” She took a corner of her apron and wiped away tears. “See now you got me a’cryin’. Get on down dem stairs and get talkin’ to Miz. McGuire. You ladies should get somthin’ done today.” She pushed Rose’s back gently.

  Rose smiled, wiped away tears from her face, leaned down to check her face in the mirror to make sure she didn’t have tear lines down her face, straightened her shoulders and went down the stairs.

  Two minutes later she was on Mrs. McGuire’s arm. Goodness, you stay abed too long. The coolest part of the day is nearly past.” She exaggerated. “I’ve been awake half the night with ideas. And I must get done so my husband will not know what I’ve been up to.” She winked and pulled Rose’s arm.

  “Where are we going?”

  “We’re headed for the warehouse. I’ve arranged for Mrs. Pinckney to see us today. She is going to show us her fabric.”

  “Already? My goodness.” Was all Rose could think to say. Then the name slammed into her memory halting her thoughts. Pinckney was Darby’s middle name. Was there perhaps a connection?

  Ava took her arm and commandeered her to the waiting carriage. “My driver has orders not to speak of our destination. I must get back before my husband finds me out.” She laughed.

  Rose smiled but could think only of the letters. Pinckney was such a huge name in Charleston. Was Darby a member of that family? No wonder then the talk about the young boy’s unworthiness. She forced herself to forget the contents of the love letters and concentrate on meeting the woman. Goodness, she was getting steeped and pulled into the city’s elite. She must be careful to represent herself well for her husband’s sake and silently vowed to do so. She must not fall prey to the gossip.

  She looked again at Ava and saw that she had dressed quite properly today. Rose wished she would have chosen more appropriate attire. Thank goodness she had thought to bring her parasol.

  Nervously she stepped down and then chided herself for wishing to impress anyone so thoroughly as to give oneself up completely. Lord, please make your presence known in me and help me not to make another mistake in my dealings.

  Before she knew it, she was entering an oblong building on Greenhill Street. Once inside her eyes adjusted to the darkness. There were few windows. But a person could barely walk the two aisles, so narrow were they. “Oh my.” Rose heard herself say.

  “Did I not tell you?” Ava smiled. “Now we must make our way to the end where we will find Mrs. Pinckney in her office – which does have more windows.” She added.

  Rose followed and soon they were inside a most agreeable room. There were desks loaded with books. Long tables for cutting fabric and two young girls working. And a wall of windows.

  “Ah, you have brought Mrs. Lovell.” A voice came from behind them.

  “Yes, Mrs. Lovell please be introduced to Mrs. Henry Pinckney.”

  Rose turned and found herself looking into the bluest eyes. The woman was much more elderly than she expected and very small of frame, her back straight as an arrow and head held regally.

  “Pleased to meet you Mrs. Pinckney.” She offered her hand and then realized she should have just tipped her head in a nod.

  The older woman took it and Rose was grateful. “I’m afraid I am accustomed to hand shaking.”

  “A northerner?” The woman smiled.

  “Yes.” Rose answered simply.

  “Well, young woman where are you from?”

  “Baltimore.”

  “Ah, a lovely city.”

  “You’ve been there?” Rose knew she sounded surprised.

  “Many times. I married a Charlestonian but I was born in New York.”

  “Really?” Rose couldn’t help but smile.

  “We met here but I made him take me back to New York when we married, promising in my old age to return to Charleston, setting New York society on it’s ear at the time.”

  “I imagine you did just that.” Rose receive
d the woman’s twinkle in her eye as a gift of acceptance to this new northerner.

  “I detect a bit of the Irish brogue in your speech.”

  “Indeed you are right again. My parents came from Ireland.”

  “It is a beautiful country. Why do you not return home? Most Irish do.” Mrs. Pinckney gazed at her.

  “You’ve been to Ireland then?” Rose was astounded at their connections.

  Many times. It is a beautiful country. My husband and I made several trips over to conduct business. I love the people, the countryside. It was unfortunate so many died during the hardships caused by the potato famine.”

  “That is particularly why my parents came here.” She said quietly.

  “If you ever want to go back, I’d be happy to go along.” My Henry died two years after we moved back here and I had not the fortitude to move all this…” she waved her arms in the air … back to New York City. And I wish to be buried here alongside my husband.

  “I understand completely Mrs. Pinckney.”

  “Well now my friend Mrs. McGuire has been very patient while we have had a chat. Shall we get on to business, then?”

  Ava smiled and asked if they might peruse the upholstery section, in the event Mrs. Lovell wished to recover her chairs.

  Rose did not want to do that, but followed along…glad to have met so many good people. She was beginning to feel that her roots may find their place in the hot southern soil.

  Chapter 20

  Two days later, Miss Nettie Bloom was sitting at Rose’s Singer sewing machine, her foot pedal rocking away. The twelve foot lengths of fabric had turned out to be outrageous in price by the time they covered four very tall windows. Rose had spent nearly three quarters of the budget on the curtains alone.

  Once the curtains were sewn and duly hung, which took an entire day, Emmanuel going up and down the hand-hewn ladder, the house did look much brighter and welcoming. The opened windows whipped the lightweight material about, rippling and dancing, bringing life to the room.

  Today, Miss Nettie was sewing pillows to toss upon the sofa. To make it look newer without too much trouble, Ava said.

  Lily had taken to Miss Nettie and the two became friends. Nettie even taught the flighty Lily how to stitch the pillows closed. Portia was proud of her granddaughter saying, “Mebbe she’ll make a good seamstress some day. Then she can own her a place downtown, now that she is free.”

  “Now wouldn’t that be wonderful?” Rose smiled, the letters forgotten in her rush to finish before her husband came home….which was now just three weeks away, four or five if weather was bad on the crossing.

  “Miss Nettie would you mind staying on another day. I’ll send a note to Mrs. Jamison right away if you agree. I’d like to speak to you about making two new dresses. I found some beautiful linen for a day dress. Would you have time to sew it?”

  “Miz Rose, I’d be happy to stay. I like it here. And any money I make we share with the others.”

  “That is a fine thing you are doing, Nettie. Shall we see how long they can spare you?”

  “Most fine with me, Miz Rose. And I don’t mind at all stayin’ on. Miz Portia make the best food. She knows how to cook.”

  “Yes, she does. She would be happy to teach you, too Nettie.”

  “I’s be willing to learn anything I can. Someday, I been asking the Lord, if he might help me meet a good man and I can work for myself doing for people, so’s we can have a place of our own.”

  “That is a great dream. I hope it comes true.” And Rose prayed that it would.

  “Now shall we finish for today. I’m very hot and need a cool bath. If you’d like Emmanuel will set one out for you, too.”

  “A bath in a real washtub?” Nettie’s eyes grew large.

  “Yes.” Rose said wondering. “Have you no bathing facilities there?”

  “Well, no, ain’t ‘nough space. We need the extra room for beds and such. The toilets are about done for, too. Makes the smell bad to sleep at night and can’t be good for us walkin’ through all that mess with bare feet. But Mrs. Jamison, she make sure we wash up ever night. She don’t cotton to bein’ dirty; body soul or spirit.” Nettie’s eyes widened.

  “That’s good.” Rose smiled.

  She knew something needed to be done and would talk to her husband as soon as she could bring the subject up. But, she scolded herself, she must make sure he was nursed back to health first. It had been so long since he’d been home.

  * * *

  In the space of a week Portia cut out and fitted the fabric while Nettie sewed Rose two simple day dresses. Her stitches were excellent and Rose decided she could get more work for Nettie. It was time for her to go back to the orphanage.

  Rose paid her handsomely and Nettie cried like a baby. “Just think all this goin’ to help the other chilren, too.”

  Rose noted Portia had grown fond of Nettie. Surely there were more girls in the orphanage that needed training. Rose could teach embroidery, Portia cooking, and Ava could show the girls design ideas…how to make simple changes in a home setting without spending a lot of money. Rose’s mind was humming with ideas.

  She hadn’t seen Ava since they’d finished the work and wondered if everything were all right. Hopefully Mr. McGuire had not learned of his wife’s social indiscretions. Time had flown by and it was time to clean the house floor-to- attic. Portia and Emmanuel always scrubbed the house clean when Captain Lovell was expected. And Rose knew it would wear them out. Her job was to weed and cut back the gardens. Emmanuel did not like to let her work outdoors in the sun. That had been his job…and lately Rose noticed he was limping about ever so slightly.

  Several days later Nettie was again loaned out for hire. She and Lily turned the contents of the attic upside down and rearranged it. Dust flew about the house until the job was done. Rose could not abide going up there again. Portia helped and Thomas did the heavy work, while Emmanuel worked outside trimming trees and repainting shutters.

  As the time drew near, Rose decided they would all rest after the house was done and celebrate with a big dinner. She arranged for a hog to be put over the fire after Portia dressed it.

  Stella had called off her trip to Savannah and Rose was glad. She could not have squeezed it in. Besides, when Captain Lovell left again, she would have plenty of time for visits. And it had been three weeks since she’d last seen Ava McGuire. There had not been a word from her. But there was no time to worry. Captain Lovell was coming home even if it was two months later than expected.

  Chapter 21

  News finally came the third week of November. Thomas ran in breathless announcing that the Emerald Star and the Ireland Rose were on the way….yet a few miles back came the report from another shipman who had just come in.

  Rose’s heart lifted as she gazed at the new curtains fluttering at the open window. The wind was strong, the weather slightly cooler. A relief after an unusually warm summer and two days of heavy rain. And the perfect day for her husband’s homecoming. She knew it would take hours for the ships to anchor and tie up at the dock once they pulled in. The Captains would stay with their ships until the passengers disembarked and then her husband would be home.

  “I’s goin’ to put on the Cap’n’s favorite dinner. He love chicken and gravy on rice. “Lily, you get me three fine, fat chickens you hear? And pick a mess of dem snap beans, too.”

  Rose didn’t know what to do. The house was in perfect order. She laughed as Lily flew through the house, her Granmama telling her to slow down or she was gonna break one o’dem long legs and be no good to anyone.

  She stepped out onto the verandah and gazed out at the beautiful day. The sun appeared from behind a fast-moving cloud. Winds slung the wisteria and her loose curls in every direction. Portia always rolled her hair up tight on her head, but wisps continually fell around her face. She blew them out of her mouth with a smile. Soon her husband and from the looks of it, Captain Wyatt would be walking up these stairs in no time.


  Rose forced herself to sit in the wide swing and tap her foot on the floor, setting herself in motion. She was so grateful her husband was coming after nearly a year’s absence. She must prepare herself however, in the event he was still recovering from the fever. The cooler weather and the hope of the moment set the world aright again. Captain Lovell was a generous man. His letters told her he would be bringing special spices from the Orient, the finest rugs from Moracco and a writing desk of her very own made especially for her in France. He was a man of wealth, but also a man of the people. There would be gifts for Emmanuel, Portia and the grandchildren. She was proud to be his wife.

  All thoughts of Darby and W flew out of her mind. She had been foolish even to think of such things when she had all this. She mentally issued herself a warning to be more grateful. And remembered she and her husband would need to talk about the signatures she had set her name to. That would be difficult knowing she had erred in the one decision she had been asked to make.

  A good amount of time passed. Twice she had gone in for iced tea and twice she had seen groups of returning passengers carrying their carpetbags as well as others passing by the battery chatting about their recent trip. The ships must have been further out that she thought…and with two of them, there would be a great deal of work tying the ships to the dock since the winds were so strong.

  Suddenly the sound of men’s boots hitting the walkway hard came toward her. Rose stood to her feet, smoothed her skirts, a smile hovering on her lips as she waited at the top of the stairs on the front porch.

  “Captain Wyatt.” She heard the quiver in her voice. And felt faint when he took off his hat and looked her in the eye. Rose couldn’t help herself…she looked over his shoulder looking for her husband.

  “Mrs. Lovell, the men are coming with Captain Lovell. He is quite ill from the trip. Make a bed ready for him and we will bring him.”

  The man’s words were still being processed in her brain when her eyes noted that he was already walking away. Instantly her mind kicked in. She straightened her back, walked through the screen door and called out, “Portia.”