Her Safe Harbor: Prairie Romance (Crawford Family Book 4)
Read Her Safe Harbor: Prairie Romance (Crawford Family Book 4) Online
Authors: Holly Bush
Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Victorian, #Historical Romance
Her Safe Harbor
By Holly Bush
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Boston 1893
“What do you mean you are planning
to travel again? You have just returned,” Jane Crawford said to her daughter.
“No more traveling. Mr. Rothchild won’t like it. Will you, Jeffrey?”
Jennifer Crawford watched as her mother leaned forward from
her place at the table in the family dining room at Willow Tree to cover
Jeffrey’s hand with her own, purse her lips, and wink at him. It made Jennifer
ill to think that if she were to spend her life with Jeffrey, as he and her
mother had already planned, she would be subject to her mother’s ridiculous
flirting and fawning over her husband, and in turn his obsequious and affected
gratitude and flattery toward her mother.
“Jolene has asked me to come and help her in her new home in
Washington when Max takes his seat in the U.S. Senate. She will be very busy,
and Melinda will need attention. I have already told her I will come,” Jennifer
said.
Jeffrey took a sip of his wine and looked at her over the
rim of the cut crystal glass. “The Morgans are expecting us at their gala. I’m
sure you don’t want to disappoint them.”
“I do not,” she said. “But you will have to make my excuses.
Certainly, they understand what a momentous occasion this is for our family.”
“There is nothing momentous about the occasion at all! This
person your sister has married is nothing! His family barely touches any good
Boston society. And anyway, politicians are inevitably lowborn and crass,” Jane
declared. “He is nothing to us and your sisters are dead to me.”
“Jane,” her father, William Crawford, said to his wife in a
plaintive voice Jennifer was accustomed to hearing.
“It is true!” Jane said. “After everything I have done for
Jolene and Julia? For them to turn their backs on their own mother?”
“Mother, please. Mr. Rothchild does not want to hear any of
this.”
Jane demurred with a shrug. “He is
nearly
family.”
Jennifer continued to eat, staring down at her plate so she
did not have to view her mother’s smug smile. When she looked up, Jeffrey’s
eyes were on her.
“I have already replied to the Morgans for both of us,” he
said.
“I’m sure they will not miss one lone person from the
hundreds they invite.”
“This is business, Jennifer,” he said. “They are longtime
customers of the bank, and if not for Harry Morgan’s introductions we would
have missed out on having some very important clients. I’m sure you understand
that.”
“Wouldn’t having a family member who is a U.S. senator be
good for gaining new clients?” she asked.
Her mother
harrumphed
.
“Jennifer,” Jeffrey admonished. “It has already been
decided. We are going to the Morgans’.”
Jeffrey’s lips were a hard line, and his eyes cold as he
spoke. She recognized that look and didn’t challenge him or say more. In fact,
no one at the table conversed, and she was feeling embarrassed by the set-down.
She continued to eat and sipped her wine, willing herself to be patient until
it was time to make her escape to her rooms. But what would she do if they were
married? How would she escape him?
Dessert had just been served when her father cleared his
throat, and every head turned to him. “If Jolene has asked for your help, then
you should attend her. I will make your excuses to Harry Morgan.”
Jennifer was shocked and stared at her father, not daring to
witness Jeffrey’s or her mother’s reaction, as her father rarely exerted
himself on her or her sisters’ behalf. Jennifer didn’t believe he didn’t care,
in fact, she felt he cared very deeply about all of them, and was mortally
depressed when Jillian went to live with Julia. But he’d always stayed clear of
the family machinations, believing that was his wife’s purview, Jennifer
thought. And, if truth be told, she felt Julia was correct when she said in her
letters that Father wanted to avoid the living hell that his wife would make of
his life if he interfered. She also thought that her father was a bit
frightened of Jane and her moods and maneuvers, just like everyone else in the
household.
Jeffrey waved away the servant offering him a cordial. “I’m
sorry I’ll be unable to stay longer this evening. There is somewhere I must be.”
“I’m so sorry, Jeffrey,” her mother said. “Must you go now
before we adjourn to the music room?”
A servant hurried forward to pull back Jeffrey’s chair as he
stood. “It is rarely wise to put off an important task, especially as current
circumstances are not as friendly as I would like,” he said, and stared at
Jennifer.
“Escort Mr. Rothchild to the door, Jennifer. It is the least
you can do,” her mother said.
Jennifer walked beside him down the long hallway of Willow
Tree, the sound of her slippers tapping on the marble floors breaking the
silence. She watched Jeffrey as Bellings came from his position at the door to
help him on with his coat and hand him his top hat and walking cane. Jeffrey
was tall—taller than her by a good number of inches, and she was a tall woman.
He had a handsome face, but his eyes never matched any gaiety he showed with
laughter or smiles; in fact, his dark eyes were disconcerting. Frightening
even, on some occasions. She’d thought him very attractive when she first met
him, but with each encounter, mostly arranged by her mother, she’d felt a cold
chill pass across her shoulders when he spoke to her in the way he had at the
dinner table. Let alone when . . . well, she would not think of that.
Jeffrey glared at Bellings and the servant retreated toward
the grand staircase that wrapped around the edge of the foyer. Jeffrey turned
his stare on her.
“Do you believe I enjoy being contradicted by my future wife
in front of her parents?”
Jennifer swallowed. “I did not mean to contradict you.”
“However, you did. I would have expected you to have more
respect for your betrothed as I do for your mother and father.”
“I do appreciate how kind you are to my family. Especially
to my mother,” she said purposefully and looked at him.
Jeffrey tapped his cane on the floor. “She is dreadful to
you. I won’t allow her interference after our marriage. She is an altogether
unpleasant woman in my estimation.”
Jennifer felt her heart skip a beat as he defended her and
promised her protection, but she wondered if she would be exchanging one
unpleasant master for another.
“I am most surprised your father chose to interfere between
you and me.” Jeffrey leaned forward and spoke softly. “Let me be very clear. I
will expect complete loyalty in a wife.”
Then, as if for Bellings’s benefit, he pulled her hands to
his lips for a kiss and stared into her eyes with intensity and passion, speaking
loudly enough that the servant would hear. “I will count the days until I see
you again, my dear.”
Jeffrey went out the door and Jennifer drew a deep breath
and turned, intending to go to her rooms. Jane stood at the bottom of the
staircase. She dismissed Bellings.
“How clumsy you are, Jennifer. Pitting your father against
your fiancé over something as inconsequential as Jolene’s imagined needs. You
will stay here and you will attend the Morgan gala. I will not see you squander
this opportunity that I have made available to you from the goodness of my
heart.”
“He is not my fiancé. I have never said yes to his proposal
and may never do so.”
“You are ridiculous! Your engagement has been discussed at
parties and in boardrooms. Do not pretend to threaten me. I will not stand for
it.”
Jennifer thought about her sister Jolene’s offer to have
Jennifer live with them indefinitely in Washington. Perhaps that thought was
enough to give her the courage necessary to be clear to her mother. “I have not
accepted his proposal, Mother. I do not care what Boston society thinks of me
so it will make little difference to me what is said. You had best be very
careful who you announce this to, as you alone will be embarrassed in the end.”
Jennifer turned and climbed the steps as her mother bellowed from the foyer.
“You are the one who took one look at Jeffrey Rothchild, had
one dance with him, and promoted him in such a way that he was hired at the
Crawford Bank by your father. Do not pretend now that you want nothing to do
with him after you have pursued him. Your father hired him to please you,
thinking to begin to prepare his soon to be son-in-law. Don’t pretend now that
he is nothing to you!”
Jennifer’s hands were shaking as she approached her room.
She could still hear her mother shouting below her. He maid, Eliza, opened her
door.
“Good evening, miss,” Eliza said.
“Help me out of this corset. I will not be going downstairs
any more this evening.”
“Yes, miss.”
“Please unhook it. I cannot breathe. And the necklace.
Remove my necklace. Quickly!”
Jennifer dropped down onto the chair in front of her vanity
where Eliza had guided her. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and hear
its beat in her ears. She fumbled with the clasp of her bracelet and could not
open it. She tried to pull it off over her hand, digging the gems and metalwork
into her skin. Eliza stilled her hands with her own and worked the clasp until
the bracelet slipped off.
“There, miss, it is off,” Eliza said. “Take slow breaths. I
will have a tray sent up. A nice steamy cup of tea will be just the thing.”
Eliza pulled Jennifer’s dress over her head, undid her
corset, and led her to the screen in her room. She handed her a dressing gown
of thick fabric and Jennifer pulled it on over her silk chemise and drawers.
Her fingers shook as she knotted the belt, and she took long, even breaths to
calm the heartbeat that she could still hear in her ears. She came out from
behind the screen as Eliza stoked the fire in her room.
“Your tray is on the way, and I’ve asked Cook to send some
of those delicious wafers she’s been making with the icing that is so sweet. I
had two myself this morning. And did I tell you about the new man working in
the stables and garages? Oh my,” she said.
Jennifer relaxed listening to the lilt of Eliza’s voice and
the rhythm of her words telling stories about the staff belowstairs. She was
seated at her dressing table now and sipping tea while Eliza unpinned her hair
and brushed it until the curls were shining. Jennifer closed her eyes and laid
her hand on Eliza’s.
“Thank you,” she said. “I am fine now.”
“Of course you are,” Eliza said briskly. “Have you had any
word about how your sister is faring in the Capital?”
“She has written again to ask me to live with them
permanently.”
“Has your answer changed, miss?”
“No. It has not. Although I will travel there soon for my
brother-in-law’s swearing in. I’d like you to come with me, Eliza. We will stay
for two weeks or more.”
“Yes, miss. Do you know—”
Jennifer and Eliza both turned as they heard shouting from
the hallway. Eliza hurried to the door and opened it a few inches to peer
outside the room.
“Is that Mother shouting?” Jennifer asked.
Eliza nodded. “It is.”
Jennifer went to the door and listened from within her room.
She could hear her father begging for restraint and her mother shouting back.
It was about her, she knew, and no doubt, her father was bearing the brunt of
his defense of her at the dinner table against Jeffrey. She pulled open the
door.
“Mother!” she said as she walked to her parents where they
stood at the end of the massive hallway where the family quarters were. “The
servants will hear you. Please.”
“I will not be made a fool of by you or anyone else in this
family. I will not!” Jane shouted, and suddenly bent over at the waist in
obvious pain.
“Jane?” her father said with concern, and took his wife’s
elbow. “Are you unwell? Shall I call the doctor?”
“Get me to my rooms, William,” a white-faced Jane said.
“Call for Mildred.”
“I think you should see a doctor,” he said. “This is the
second time . . .”
“I will not be badgered!” she said, and then faltered
farther into her husband’s arms.
“Fetch Mildred,” Jennifer said to Eliza, and then turned to
her mother. “I will help you change and get settled.”
Her mother shook her head. “I want nothing to do with you.
Where is Mildred? William! Get me to my rooms!”
Jennifer folded her hands at her waist and watched as her
father helped her mother down the hallway. Mildred hurried by, giving
instructions to a young woman for what was to be brought to her mistress’s
room. She eyed Jennifer with barely concealed contempt.
* * *
“How is Mother this morning?”
Jennifer asked her father as they rode in the family carriage into the heart of
Boston the following day.
“I do not know. She would not allow me into her rooms and
Mildred had nothing to say.”
“Nothing to say or wouldn’t say?”
Her father smiled at her just as if she’d never asked the
question. “What are your plans for today, Jennifer? If you’re not too busy, I
have another packet for you.”
She nodded. “Of course. Send Wickers with the details.”
The carriage rolled to a stop at a discreet side door on the
massive stone building that was the Crawford Bank, and her father stepped out.
“Take Miss Crawford to the lobby.”
Jennifer pulled her gloves tight as they rounded the corner
and then accepted the doorman’s help down the two carriage steps. She drew
herself up as she’d seen Jolene and her mother do on so many occasions,
straightening her back, and slowly turning her head from side to side.
Gentlemen stopped on either side of the dark carpet that went the entire way to
the bank’s marble foundation.
The doorman nodded and opened the door for her to enter. “Good
morning, Miss Crawford.”
Snow had begun to swirl around her, sprinkling white on her
dark blue walking coat and velvet hat, the pheasant feather dipping with each
step. The men who had stopped to let her pass were tipping their hats or
removing them.
