Never Look Back
Yet Tabitha, Peter and Sidney had in time learned to ignore the salacious gossip about the lady they loved, just as Matilda herself did, for the work she did brought its own rewards, and she was content. For every lie spread about her there were ten people with a debt of gratitude to her who told their true stories. It became widely known that on nights she was missing from the saloon, she was either down at Folsom Street teaching girls to read and write, harassing police into raiding brothels to check on their girls’ ages, or looking out for girls who were in need of help.
Peter often said that if she had been a plain woman, with a less flamboyant nature, she might have gained sainthood by now, for the poor knew her true worth and loved her. But a woman who could laugh, dance and take a drink with customers in her saloon, who drove a smart gig and knew personally most of the shady characters in town, including the politicians, and who aroused female jealousy, was bound to be vilified. Matilda liked it that way, she didn’t want the status of saint, she identified too often with the sinners.
‘You look wonderful,’ Tabitha said, embracing Matilda, and suddenly not caring a jot if she upset a few people later tonight. ‘Let me introduce you to everyone.’
‘First let me look at you!’ Matilda said, her smile as vivid as her eyes. ‘That dress, Tabby, is inspirational!’
They both laughed, for Matilda had had it made for her by her own dressmaker back in San Francisco. While they were choosing the material, Matilda had related the tale of how Lily had worn red for passion when Giles proposed to her. She said Tabitha must keep up the family tradition.
‘You don’t think it’s just a wee bit too bold for me?’ Tabitha whispered.
Matilda shook her head. ‘It’s perfect, the colour warms your skin and empathizes with your lovely eyes.’
Perhaps it was true that love made all women beautiful, she thought. She didn’t know who had arranged Tabitha’s hair in ringlets, so that they jiggled on her bare shoulders seductively, but she deserved praise, for it set the gown off to perfection.
She wondered for just one moment what Miss Dix would have made of this dramatic change in her nurse’s appearance. She certainly wouldn’t have let Tabitha into her hospital if she knew she was capable of looking like this!
‘Now,’ she said, her eyes dancing, ‘I’m ready to be introduced, and more than ready to tell them all how much you will enhance their family’
‘You see, I was right, she’s charming everyone,’ Sebastian whispered in Tabitha’s ear a little later. Matilda was at the centre of the family group, sparkling and vivacious as she found out who everyone was, asked about their children, and told funny little anecdotes about the long and cold journey she’d shared with Tabitha from California.
As they all went into dinner, Tabitha felt more relaxed. She and Sebastian were seated next to each other at one side of the beautifully laid table, Matilda and Anne opposite them, with Albert and George at the head and foot, the other guests in between. The first course was a consommé, followed by a fish dish, and Matilda was being so very gracious, taking care to compliment Anne on the superb food, her lovely home, and also chatting to Brett, who sat on her immediate right. Tabitha had noticed Anne kept looking at Matilda’s gloves, as if wondering why she hadn’t removed them, and she wished she had confided in Anne why she wore them.
Sebastian led most of the conversation, he spoke of the brown-stone house he had just purchased close to Central Park, and got Tabitha to describe some of the furniture they had bought the previous day. Their wedding was to be in early April at Trinity Church, followed by a reception here at the house. His three young nieces were to be bridesmaids, and Amy, his sister-in-law, spoke up to say her girls were terribly excited, and she just hoped Tabitha could get them all to agree on what colour dresses they were to wear.
‘I really don’t mind,’ Tabitha laughed. ‘What colour have they got in mind?’
Amy groaned and said one wanted red, one blue and the other pink. She’d already told the youngest one that red wasn’t a suitable colour for a wedding.
Matilda looked at Tabitha, her lips quivering with silent laughter, clearly remembering how Tabitha herself had asked if she could wear red when her father was making the plans for their wedding.
‘I agree, we have to rule out red,’ Tabitha said, giving Matilda a sly wink. ‘But as all the girls are so blonde and angelic, why don’t we settle for pink?’
Amy, who was blonde too, of German descent, beamed.
‘I believe your father was once minister at Trinity Church?’ she said. ‘That should make the day extra special for you, Tabitha.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ Tabitha smiled. ‘That’s why we chose it. When Sebastian and I went there to make the arrangements, I was quite overcome by all the memories it brought back. I thought I’d forgotten everything about it. But I hadn’t. We walked round to State Street where we used to live, but the house has been pulled down now, and there’s an insurance company there instead.’
Everyone spoke of the dramatic changes in what was now just a financial district, and George MacVeeney spoke of when most of the area was gutted by the fire of 1845. He said he had owned a warehouse at that time and he lost everything.
‘It was a terrible sight,’ Matilda said, commiserating with him. ‘We were choking on the smoke in the house in State Street. Lily, Tabby’s mother, was terrified the fire would reach it too, but fortunately for us the wind blew it towards the river,’
‘You were there then?’ Anne said in surprise, turning in her seat to look at Matilda, brown eyes like gimlets.
‘Of course,’ Matilda said. ‘I was Tabby’s nursemaid. I came to America with the Milsons.’
‘I haven’t gone back that far with my family history,’ Tabitha said, looking across the table to Anne. ‘Matty became my nursemaid back in London when I was only two. She held our family together through thick and thin. Both Mama and Papa always said they didn’t know what they’d do without her.’
Anne gave Matilda a sideways stare. ‘And you stepped into the breach and married Reverend Milson when his wife died too.’
That remark had more than a tinge of sarcasm and Tabitha heard alarm bells ringing in her head. Matilda was too honest to be an entirely successful liar, and she was already blushing.
‘I loved both Lily and Giles,’ she said, but as all other conversations around the table had stopped suddenly her voice sounded unnaturally loud. ‘I couldn’t stay and care for Tabitha alone in the house with Giles, there would have been talk. So we decided to marry.’
‘So it was a marriage of convenience?’ Anne probed.
Tabitha gulped. She knew Matilda would never agree to that, not even to smooth things over.
‘No, for love,’ she said. ‘It grew out of our shared grief. Sadly Giles was killed just a few weeks later, and because Tabby and I could no longer stay in the minister’s house in Independence, the following spring we joined a wagon train to take us to my friends in Oregon.’
Tabitha breathed a sigh of relief. She thought Matilda had handled that superbly, as she hadn’t spoken of an actual wedding, she hadn’t even told a lie.
‘We had a pretty terrible time on the way,’ Tabitha said, and giggled from nervousness. ‘Amelia, my half-sister, was born in the wagon just before we got to The Dalles.’
There was a chorus of sympathetic noises from all the women, and surprisingly from Brett too, who had seemed rather pompous and chilly when she first met him yesterday. Sophia, Cousin Rupert’s wife, a vivacious, dark-haired woman, remarked on how hard it must have been for Matilda to make such an arduous journey at such a time, and asked whether Amelia was going to be a bridesmaid too.
‘Sadly no, Amelia died from cholera when she was six,’ Tabitha said. ‘Aunt Cissie, and her daughter Susanna too. You may have heard me speak of Peter, he was another of Cissie’s children. Matilda took him back to San Francisco, and brought him up as her own. I think of him as a brother.’
There was a moment’s
embarrassed silence, broken only by Sophia apologizing profusely for being so tactless.
‘You weren’t to know,’ Matilda said, giving Sophia a gentle smile. ‘There is so much sadness in everyone’s family, but I hope with more good doctors like Sebastian and Tabby, perhaps one day a cure will be found for such terrible diseases.’
Tabitha thought Anne had run out of loaded questions, and as the main course – roast pheasant – was brought in and served, she moved back to speaking about the house Sebastian had bought, and her view that they would need to hire a housekeeper and a cook if Tabitha was really going to practise medicine in New York after the wedding.
‘Of course she is, Mother,’ Sebastian laughed. ‘We are intending that she should have her surgery in our house, and I shall be relying on you to send along all the women you know who have been harshly treated by male doctors.’
Anne made no reply to this, and Tabitha thought the odd expression on her future mother-in-law’s face was irritation that her son had chosen to make such an announcement in public, rather than tell her himself first in private. But to her surprise she turned to Matilda again. ‘Why don’t you call yourself Mrs Milson?’ she asked.
This was something neither Tabitha nor Sebastian had thought of, and Tabitha wished they had.
But Matilda just shrugged. ‘Jennings is my family name. When I started up my business in San Francisco, I decided to revert back to it.’
‘Because you were afraid that people would find it shocking that a minister’s widow would run a saloon?’
Neither Tabitha nor Sebastian had sought to cover up what Matilda’s business was, even though they knew genteel folk were invariably affronted by it. Sebastian had said his family were open-minded and once they met Matilda they would see what a fine woman she was for themselves.
But Anne’s remark was clearly designed to belittle Matilda. Was it jealousy because she sensed everyone was captivated by this attractive, interesting woman?
‘I’ve never been afraid of anything, or anyone,’ Matilda retorted, fixing Anne with a chilling look. ‘I had two children to support, so I just did what I could for them,’
‘And a fine job she made of it too,’ Sebastian said stoutly. ‘Look at my lovely Tabitha, one of the first few women doctors in America. I’m so very proud of her, but it is to Matilda much of the praise should go, for without her determination to give Tabby a fine education, she never would have got there. Did you know Matilda joined Tabby in nursing during the war too?’
Tabitha was touched by Sebastian’s effort to move the conversation on to safer ground, and as none of the guests knew about this, she told them a little of the hospital in Washington and about their cramped lodgings there. As medical matters weren’t considered a suitable topic for the dinner table she kept off the horrors, but she did add that after the Battle of Gettysburg the number of casualties were so vast they worked almost round the clock.
Albert Everett had said almost nothing during the entire meal, in fact he hadn’t appeared to be even listening to the conversations either, but just as Tabitha thought all difficulties had been surmounted, he suddenly spoke up.
‘Were you two the nurses at Brigadier Russell’s funeral?’ he said, leaning forward. His dark blue eyes, so very like his son’s, were suddenly animated. He looked towards George, his brother-in-law, at the far end of the table. ‘You must remember that funeral, George? Brigadier Russell was the man who insisted on being buried with his men at Gettysburg. None of his family attended, just two nurses. We read about it in the papers, it was just a couple of months before we heard Aaron had died.’
George looked a little bewildered and flustered. ‘I recall reading about the funeral, Albert. We thought it was very noble of the man to wish to be buried there, and a comfort to the families of his men. But I don’t remember about two nurses.’
‘You do,’ Albert insisted. ‘We were sitting in the library that afternoon and we talked of nothing else. There was a great deal of controversy because Russell’s wife was the daughter of Colonel Harding and they weren’t informed of his request.’
Tabitha felt a chill run down her spine. She wasn’t surprised Albert remembered about it, war correspondents had made much of James’s funeral, and as Aaron had also been at West Point, like James, it would have had special significance. But then the story had touched people all over America. Many considered it to be one of the most moving incidents of the war. Many notable generals, including Grant, paid homage to James’s gallant leadership and unswerving courage in battle. Even President Lincoln was quoted as having said that ‘Brigadier Russell was an inspiration to his men, and his request that he should be buried with those who fell alongside him must surely acknowledge his deep respect for them.’ Yet some of the correspondents who sided with the rebels had brought up the Union defeat at Fredericksburg, James’s home town, and implied this was the true reason he didn’t wish his body to be returned there for burial.
Tabitha caught hold of Sebastian’s hand under the table and squeezed it, hoping he’d think of something to say to prevent this going any further.
But before he even had a chance to say anything, Matilda spoke. ‘You have a very good memory, Mr Everett, Tabby and I were indeed the two nurses at the funeral. Brigadier Russell was an old and very dear friend. We had met him when he was a captain, he led our wagon train to Oregon. When I heard he had been brought to Washington wounded, I went to see him, indeed stayed with him until he died. He asked me if we would attend his funeral and we were proud to be there.’
‘Well!’ Anne Everett gasped, her slender body as stiff as a fire iron. ‘It’s all coming back to me. He came from Virginia, one of the oldest families. There were many who felt he should have fought for the Confederacy’
‘He couldn’t have fought for them,’ Tabitha said. ‘He was against secession and slavery.’
‘I think we should change the subject,’ Sebastian said. He knew the whole story of Russell and Matilda, and what they had been to one another. While he thought the story very moving, and one he intended to tell with pride to his own children, he was afraid that it would only bring back sad memories for Matilda, and also of Aaron for both his parents.
‘But why, Sebastian darling?’ his mother said, fixing him with an overbright smile. ‘Because it was rumoured that one of the nurses was Russell’s mistress?’
There was a gasp from some of the women round the table. But before Tabitha could catch her breath, Matilda turned in her chair to face Anne.
Tabitha knew Matilda loved James far too much ever to deny her relationship with him. Their love affair was her most treasured memory. Tabitha could see her bracing herself to speak of it, and she had never looked more lovely: such pride in her clear blue eyes, defiance in her chin, only the faint quiver of her lips proving that her love for James ran as deep today as it had ten years ago.
‘Mrs Everett,’ she said in a clear, unwavering voice, and Tabitha felt as if her heart was breaking for her, ‘rumours about me abound, most of them founded on ignorance or jealousy, and usually I ignore them. But I will put you straight on this one, because it is not something I am ashamed of, and if Tabby is to marry your son it is best that there are no secrets between us.
‘It is true that I was James Russell’s mistress, and I loved him more than life itself.’
‘I can really make no comment about your behaviour, but didn’t you stop to think what such a scandal could do to your daughter?’ Anne retorted, two bright red spots appearing on her cheeks. ‘Taking her with you to your lover’s funeral!’
Matilda’s eyes narrowed and darkened, she had the expression on her face which Tabitha had seen so often as a child. It was a mixture of anger and scorn, and it always precipitated a verbal tongue-lashing.
‘My dear Mrs Everett, Tabitha went to the funeral to pay her last respects to an old friend. She was twenty-two then, hardly a child,’ she said, her voice like ice.
There was a little sniff from Anne. Matil
da looked across the table at Tabitha and Sebastian first, then her eyes swept right round the table at all the shocked faces.
‘I am sorry if my bluntness offends you,’ she said, ‘but I have always believed one should tell the truth. However, whatever you choose to think of me, you must not allow that to reflect on your opinion of my step-daughter. She has a spotless character, she is an excellent doctor, and comes from better stock than anyone else at this table.’
Mrs Everett gave a sniff of disbelief.
Tabitha’s blood ran cold, for she knew Matilda always fought to win, and her tongue could be as sharp as any sword when her blood was up.
‘You don’t agree?’ Matilda said with a faint smirk. ‘Well, let me put this to you. Does a family fortune made by the work of slaves, and the building of railroads which took the lives of hundreds of Chinese and Irish labourers, mean one is superior to a poor but enlightened church minister, who spent his whole life working for the good of others? I surely doubt it.’
There was utter silence for a moment, not a clink of a glass or the rustle of a napkin. Every face turned towards Anne Everett and Matilda.
Tabitha hadn’t discovered how the Everetts’ fortune had been made until she’d arrived here in New York. She wondered when and how Matilda had discovered this.
The silence was broken by Sebastian clapping his hands. ‘Well said, Matilda,’ he exclaimed. ‘You are not only right of course, but very brave to speak out. But this evening was intended to celebrate the engagement of Tabitha and myself, not to look back on the rights and wrongs of either of our families. I wish to propose a toast to that effect.’ He picked up his glass of wine and looked around the table. ‘I propose that we should all look forward to a bright new future in which sadness and old prejudices will be laid aside.’