The Oak Leaves (8 page)

Staying here would allow Cosima to get to know Reginald from a safe distance. And this gracious woman offered that very opportunity.

“Reginald,” said Lady Hamilton, “tell your lady she must stay. I can see on her face that’s all she’s waiting for.”

Reginald studied Cosima as if to discern her thoughts. But there was something else there, Cosima thought. It was almost as if he was pleased at the development.

“Only say what you desire, my dear,” he said, “and I’ll see it done.”

Relieved that he was so amenable, she smiled. Why did she have any qualms about him? “I think Lady Hamilton is right. Perhaps it would be more proper for Millicent and me to stay here.”

Relief flickered in his eye. “I want only what is best, my dear. For you and for us.”

“Then it’s decided,” said Lady Hamilton. “Oh, wait until I tell the girls!” She turned to Reginald, practically shooing him off. “You go on now, Reginald. Go home and have a bath after your travels; that’s what I intend to offer Cosima. When you’re freshened and rested, you may come back to claim her company for a time. Now off with you!”

Reginald laughed, taking one of Cosima’s hands at the same time and kissing it in a polite farewell. Then he headed toward the door.

Lady Hamilton led Cosima up the stairs to a room decorated in pristine white and cheery yellow, with flowered wallpaper replicated in the bedding and curtains. As a hostess, Lady Hamilton was obviously quite experienced, commanding every comfort for her guest: tea and a light repast; a bed; and a bath with warmed, scented water, fine soap, and soft, heated towels. A maid arrived to unpack the trunks brought from Reginald’s carriage, and before long the same maid extracted a gown from one of the trunks for pressing, taking away Cosima’s crumpled traveling suit as well.

After Cosima’s bath, the maid returned in time to help Cosima with her hair, sweeping it up in a fashionable chignon. All this was done without Millie, who Cosima was told was well cared for and given a bed upstairs with the other maids.

Moments later, one of the Hamilton maids appeared at the door again, standing ready to show Cosima the way to dinner.

* * *

“Cosima,” said Lady Hamilton as she rose from her seat in the small sitting room where they had met earlier. “How lovely you look! Come and meet my family.”

Cosima couldn’t help but feel welcomed all over again with Lady Hamilton ushering her farther into the room. Two young women sat near the fireplace, and along with a tall, middle-aged man, they stood and approached—all with strikingly similar smiles.

“This is my husband, Lord Graham Hamilton. And these lovely girls are our daughters. Beryl and Christabelle, meet Cosima Escott—” she paused as if for dramatic effect—“Reginald’s fiancée.”

Lord Hamilton had stretched his hand in greeting, but his daughters swept past and grabbed both of Cosima’s hands in theirs, successfully circumventing their father’s.

“Reginald’s fiancée!” said the one called Beryl. She was taller than the other, perhaps older, with the same creamy white skin of her mother but dark hair like her father. “Oh, Mother said she had a surprise guest for dinner, but we had no idea!”

Christabelle, fair and pretty but on the plump side, giggled. Her laugh was infectious, and Cosima felt like laughing along. “Who would have ever thought Reginald would find such a gem?”

The girls laughed, and their mother partially hid a smile behind a raised palm, while Lord Hamilton looked on with something between amusement and consternation on his face. He was dark where his wife was pale, yet handsome for an older gentleman, with heavy brows and a full mustache. Though age drew his skin downward, he looked fit and healthy, the whites of his eyes all the more stark for the contrasting darkness in the brown centers and shrouding brows.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Escott,” he said, and at last his daughters parted to let him extend his hand once more. “My wife has told me you’ve come from Ireland.”

“Ireland!” said Beryl, taking up Cosima’s hand again. “Oh, you must tell us all about it. Mother and Father are such bores, Cosima. Well, they’re positively sweet, but bores all the same. They won’t let us travel a bit, not to Ireland, not even to the Continent.”

Cosima smiled. “It’s been my experience that concerned parents are often bores, Miss Beryl. I’m told the world is an unpredictable place, especially far from home.”

“You sound just like Mother,” Christabelle said with another giggle.

“It simply isn’t fair, that’s all,” said Beryl with a pout. She caught Cosima’s gaze and held it. “They let our two brothers travel as they will. Why, one of our brothers is in Africa! Imagine being able to see such a foreign land. I think it’s vastly unfair to have been born a woman.”

“I’ve done precious little traveling myself,” Cosima said, “but I can say this about it: I believe the idea of it outweighs the reality. Seasickness and bumpy roads, stale air on trains and road dust isn’t as glamorous as it might sound.”

“And you’re here to marry Reginald!” Christabelle sounded breathless. “I can hardly believe it. You’re so pretty . . . and did you say you’re an Escott?”

“That’s right.”

“I believe Reginald has always wanted to marry an Escott, the way he and Rachel—”

“That’ll be enough talk of such nature, Christabelle,” broke in Lord Hamilton firmly. “It’s time to go in to dinner. Shall we?”

Lord and Lady Hamilton led the way, and the girls escorted Cosima, one on each side. Even as Cosima surveyed the large dining-room table set with crystal and china, silverware and fresh flowers, she couldn’t help but wonder about Christabelle’s words. Strangely enough the notion that her cousin Rachel might be more than a simple acquaintance of Reginald’s didn’t concern Cosima in the least.

Dinner passed in pleasant company. Beryl, whom everyone called Berrie, pressed Cosima with questions about Ireland. Cosima was only too happy to answer. She’d been gone from home a short time, yet it felt as if she’d been away far longer. She’d send a note home in the morning to let her family know she’d arrived safely.

Christabelle, on the other hand, asked questions about how Cosima and Reginald had met. “The wedding will be such fun,” she exclaimed. “And Peter will be the best man, no doubt. Oh! You haven’t met our brother Peter, have you, Cosima?”

Cosima shook her head just as she took another bite of beef with Yorkshire pudding. Compared to the simpler fare she was used to at home, she’d never tasted anything quite so delicious.

“Oh, you’ll love him,” Beryl said proudly.

Christabelle chimed in with another laugh, “Certainly, everyone does. It’s a good thing you met Reginald first, or you surely would have fancied Peter instead.”

“That’s true enough,” Beryl confirmed. “Ladies tend to like Peter, with or without a title, though I must say they can’t really separate the two, can they?”

“Girls,” said Lord Hamilton with a warning in his tone. “Let’s direct the conversation to something a bit more edifying, shall we?”

Beryl looked surprised by the gentle rebuke. “Reginald and Peter are the best of friends, so it’s a matter of fact that Cosima will get to know Peter quite well. Isn’t that right, Father?”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

“And so we should tell her something about him, shouldn’t we? That he’s kind and handsome and clever, even if he is a bit of a bore sometimes. But I suppose it’s natural for me and Christabelle to find him something of a bore, isn’t it, since we’re his sisters. We’ve always hoped he would bring home dashing young men for us to fancy, but Father keeps him so busy between politics and charity that all he’s ever done is bring home Reginald.”

“Beryl!” said Lady Hamilton, the first hint of exasperation in her voice. She looked at Cosima with regret. “My daughters are outspoken sometimes, Cosima. Complaints come too easily to those who’ve lived a comfortable life.”

Beryl’s brows rose in obvious offense. “I’m not complaining, Mother. Honestly, I thought I was giving Cosima a wonderful portrayal of Peter.”

“Yes, and of Reginald?”

Beryl’s lids dropped to shade her eyes momentarily; then she looked at Cosima with a smile. “I was only going to add that he’s quite like another brother, practically one of the family.”

“That’s certainly true,” Lady Hamilton said. “In fact, I’ve invited Reginald to consider having the wedding here.”

That announcement brought new squeals of delight and a plethora of ideas for decorations and food, guests and music. By the end of the meal, Cosima felt as though she were some recently discovered relative—just the way she hoped to be welcomed by the London Escotts in a few days’ time.

When at last the evening ended and the girls led the way upstairs, Beryl invited Cosima to her room to see a new gown that had arrived from the seamstress earlier. Christabelle came along, and the three of them chatted for another hour about fashions and weddings and imagined travels, this time without any censure from Hamilton parents listening in.

When at last the evening seemed spent, Cosima stood and Beryl followed her to the door with an offer to make sure Cosima found the room the Hamiltons had provided.

“Is this it?” Beryl asked when she opened the door to the room Cosima had described. There were two halls on this, the middle level of the home, one leading from each side of the stairway. She’d been relieved when Beryl had offered to show her the way.

Cosima would have stepped in, but Beryl reached across and started closing the door. “Oh, that room has the most awful bed; you won’t sleep a wink in there. Mother’s forgotten. Come with me.”

“But my things . . .”

“Oh yes,” said Beryl, turning back to the room. As expected, Cosima’s belongings had been neatly unpacked, pressed, and hung in the wardrobe in the corner of the room. “We can have everything moved in the morning, but for now just take what you’ll need for the night. And a dress for the morning, of course.”

Cosima eyed the bed. It was spread with a yellow coverlet, topped with a half dozen ruffled pillows. “Are you sure this bed is unsuitable?”

“Quite. A dear friend of mine stayed here not long ago for a weekend visit, and I can say emphatically that she was barely able to walk in the morning, her back hurt so.” Beryl pulled her out of the room after Cosima had grabbed her nightgown, dress, and satchel.

They walked the length of the same hallway to a room nearer the top of the stairs. Beryl opened wide the door and scurried to a lamp on a table nearby, which she lit to reveal a pleasant decor of silver and green. This room was somewhat smaller than the other. A high, canopied bed was its dominant feature. A chaise longue offered comfort near a fireplace already set with coals as if awaiting a visitor. The wood floor, as in the other bedrooms, was dust free, adorned with accent rugs in key spots beneath the bed stool and in front of the firebox. Above the mantel hung a picture of a sailing ship, and the rough water shone silver in the lamplight.

“This bed is marvelous,” said Beryl proudly. “I keep telling Mother to have the beds switched since the other room is larger, but she forgets. You’ll be much more comfortable here, Cosima. The dressing room is just through that door.”

“Thank you,” Cosima said. Indeed, this room was nearly as lovely as the yellow one.

“Good night, then,” Beryl said, but she stalled at the door. “I’m so glad to have met you, Cosima. I’ve always wanted another sister in the family, someone not quite as silly as Christabelle.”

Cosima welcomed the words even as she was abashed for Christabelle’s sake. “She’s young yet, Berrie. I’m sure she’ll prove to be a wonderful friend through the years.”

“Yes, of course you’re right. Good night, then.” She closed the door.

Cosima hugged the clothing and tapestry bag to her chest, thinking she wished she’d told Berrie she’d always wanted a sister. Telling her tomorrow would have to suffice.

But for tonight . . . she was especially glad she’d brought her journal. Cosima had plenty to write about.

9

Just inside the main entrance of North Shore Community Church was a fountain of water tumbling peacefully over a graduating series of limestone slabs. Interspersed outside the water flow grew moss and ivy, creating an outdoor effect. Especially with bright morning sun shining through a wall of clear windows above.

Talie watched Luke walk ahead with Ben on his shoulders. They would go downstairs to the nursery, where volunteers took care of Ben so Talie and Luke—and those seated around them—could enjoy the service.

The usual routine was for her to find seats in their favorite section of the huge auditorium, stage left, then flag Luke down when he returned upstairs. But today she was meeting her mother for the service, and she’d agreed to wait at the fountain, a natural meeting spot. No one could get to the series of doors into the auditorium without passing this fountain, at least if they were coming from the main parking lot.

She glanced at her watch. Quarter ’til nine. Her mother should be here any moment. The condominium she would soon be moving to was less than fifteen minutes away, and even though she’d attended a small, hymn-singing church her entire life, she’d told Talie she would join them at the larger, more contemporary church once she lived so much closer.

Talie scanned the line of doors leading from the parking lot, but instead of seeing her mother, another familiar figure caught her eye. There walked Dana, not in the typical casual cotton pants she normally wore when she visited Talie’s church. Instead she wore a dress that Talie had once teased her about. It was clearly meant to turn heads. A dark floral, it hugged the curves of her body even as three-quarter-length sleeves and a scoop neckline retained modesty.

But it, like the uneaten hotcakes of yesterday morning, was a sure sign of the direction of Dana’s thoughts.

“Dana!” Talie called.

Dana’s instantly raised brows nearly fell to a frown.

Surely her sister wasn’t surprised to see her? It was true sometimes Talie and Luke went to the eleven o’clock service, but this was
her
church.

“Are you here to meet me and Mom?” Talie asked. “I thought now that you’ve moved out you’d make a clean break, and Mom would have to coerce you back into her company.”

“No,” Dana said, glancing around. “I’m meeting someone—not Mom. I didn’t know she was coming.”

Talie smiled knowingly. “So Melody’s cousin-in-law came to the singles event last night? Aidan—wasn’t that his name? Is he who you’re meeting?”

Dana nodded, accompanied by what looked like friendly exasperation. “I am meeting him, but Talie, do me a favor. This is just too soon for him to have to meet my whole family. Could you not let Mom know I’m—?”

“There’s my two girls!” Val Martin came up behind Dana, and as clearly as the sudden distress appeared on her sister’s face, pure pleasure sprouted on their mother’s. In her midsixties, Val Martin had always been older than most other mothers of the friends Talie had growing up, but only chronologically. Physically she looked at least ten years younger than her real age, with the sandy hair she’d given both her daughters, smooth skin, and perpetually smiling blue eyes. “I was worried about missing my old church, but I won’t have to if I can sit here beside my kids.”

As Dana wiped the frown from her face, Talie tried to think fast. She took her mother’s arm. “Let’s go find some seats,” she said, hoping a plausible explanation for Dana not sitting with them would come to her along the way.

But Val didn’t budge. “What’s the hurry? I just love this fountain! Every time I see it, I can’t help but think of that engineer husband of yours, Talie. Didn’t he volunteer his expertise to design it?”

Talie didn’t let go of her mother’s arm. “He was a volunteer consultant. He didn’t design it, just lent another opinion on whether or not the contractors knew what they were doing. Come on, Mom.”

Still, Val didn’t move. “My, Dana, you look so pretty today. Not that you girls don’t always look pretty, but that dress is one of my favorites on you. Talie, where’s Luke?”

“Taking the baby to the nursery. We really need to find seats.”

“All right, all right. My goodness, I thought church was a place to slow down and contemplate?”

Talie pulled her mother along, but they weren’t far before her mother stopped. “What’s the matter, Dana? Aren’t you coming?”

“Danes came here last night to the singles group and will be sitting in the service with them,” Talie said. It was sort of true.

Disappointment crept up on Val’s face. “Oh. Well, how about brunch after? Now that we’re not sharing the same roof, we have lots to catch up on.”

“I think she’ll probably be going out with at least one person from the singles group; won’t you, Danes?”

Dana nodded, looking a bit uncertain. Uncertain about letting their mother think it was a group, or uncertain about her availability after the service?

“Then we’ll have to set up dinner this week.”

Dana nodded again, this time more eagerly.

Talie led the way, but by the time they found three open seats together, Luke was already behind them.

“I saw Dana in the lobby,” he said. “I was going to say hi, but I don’t think she saw me wave. She was with some guy.”

“Just one?” Val asked.

Luke glanced between Talie and her mother. “Why? Should there be more?”

“She’s meeting her singles group,” Val said as they took their seats.

“Actually I’m not sure how many will be there,” Talie said carefully. This was beginning to feel like outright deception. “Maybe . . . just one person.”

“Oh?” her mother said. “Is that why you shuffled me away like that?”

She didn’t sound perturbed, even though Talie conceded she probably had a right to be. “She just met the guy, Mom. She didn’t want to subject him to the whole family until she knows if she’s ever going on a real date with him. That’s all.”

“Meeting for church sounds like a date to me,” Luke said.

That was enough to inspire Talie’s mother to launch a visual search. The auditorium might seat three thousand, but it was still possible to get a good view of the two-story room without missing much. When even Luke turned to get another possible look, Talie couldn’t help herself. She wanted to see what the guy looked like.

She should have warned Dana not to sit on this side of the church. With the three of their necks craned to scan the room, they’d probably be hard to miss.

“If she wants us to meet the guy, she’ll bring him around,” Luke said, the first to give up. He turned in his seat and took up his program.

“You’re right,” Talie said, righting herself as well.

“There they are,” said Val.

To his credit, Luke didn’t look up. However, it took Talie less than a second to turn around again. She followed her mother’s line of vision, spotting Dana as she led the way to the risers in the back. Those seats were always the last to fill. The rest of the auditorium had packed in fast.

Talie first noticed that Aidan was tall, probably around the same height as Luke. Where Luke was lighter in hair and skin, this man was dark. His hair was brown, his skin tan. She wondered what color eyes he had but conceded it probably didn’t matter. The guy was, without a doubt, what Dana’s middle school students would call a babe.

* * *

“Well, we can’t very well walk past them as if we don’t know them, can we?” Talie said to Luke as they filed out of the crowded auditorium after the service.

“Of course we can’t,” said Val, answering for Talie’s husband.

“Yes, we can,” Luke said. “We can all go downstairs and get Ben.”

But when they reached the lobby, Talie saw Dana standing in front of the fountain, talking and laughing with the man she’d met.

“No, you go on, Luke,” Talie said. “Maybe Dana is hanging around because she changed her mind about wanting him to meet us.”

Luke looked skeptical, hesitating to leave. “Go easy on the guy, will you? No third degree before they’ve had their first date?”

Talie pretended to be offended, shooing Luke off then following her mother toward the fountain. Thankfully, Talie noticed that Dana caught sight of them coming and seemed neither alarmed nor unwelcoming. Before they’d said a word, Dana put one hand on Aidan’s arm and drew out her other toward Talie and their mother.

“I mentioned my family was here,” Dana said. “Aidan, this is my mother, Val Martin, and my sister, Talie Ingram. And my brother-in-law is here somewhere—getting Ben from the nursery?”

Talie nodded.

Val shook Aidan’s hand, and if an assessment could be accurately judged, Talie guessed her mother at least thought Aidan good-looking. It was impossible not to. His eyes were blue, his teeth a stark white against his tan skin.

“This is Aidan Walker,” Dana said.

“How did you like the service, Aidan?” Talie asked. That didn’t count as a third-degree question, even though she had ulterior motives in asking. If the guy hadn’t been listening, maybe he’d attended just to “scope out” Dana.

“Great!” he said. “I’ve heard of this church, but I’ve never been here. I liked it.”

“Do you usually go somewhere else, then?” Val asked.

Talie smiled; her mother could always claim she hadn’t heard Luke’s admonition.

Aidan nodded. “It’s smaller, more traditional.”

They chatted for a few moments about the pros and cons, likenesses and differences of contemporary versus traditional churches, a subject Talie’s mother was interested in since she was about to make a switch herself. No easy decision, Talie knew—one she made only to see Talie, Luke, and Ben every Sunday.

But Aidan didn’t seem to have the same reservations about leaving behind something so familiar. Talie had to admit he seemed interested in North Shore Community—hopefully not only because of Dana and the singles group.

“We’ll be going out to brunch,” Val said. Talie shot a worried glance Dana’s way, who looked back with what was probably a better hidden sense of alarm. “Care to join us?”

But if Val entertained any real hopes of a quiet family brunch, they were forgotten a moment later when Luke arrived with Ben in his arms. Ben was red faced and in obvious distress. Talie offered to take him but instead of handing him to her, Luke put Ben on his shoulders. Sometimes Ben’s favorite position was enough to calm him.

Not today.

Dana made introductions over Ben’s noise, and Luke and Aidan shook hands. Aidan tried to shake Ben’s hand too, obviously not put off by his noise, but as usual Ben kept his hand tightly fisted and didn’t respond to anyone’s calm voice, not even a stranger’s.

“Ben has these moods every once in a while.” Talie raised her voice with the heightened sound of Ben’s cries. “We call them meltdowns. It’ll take a while for him to quiet down, so it looks like we better take him home.”

“Yep,” Luke agreed, then turned to Aidan. “It was nice meeting you.”

He turned then, and Talie knew she would have to follow. “I’ll call you later, Dana, okay?” She looked at her mother. “Coming, Mom? You’ll meet us at our house? I can throw brunch together there.”

Her mother nodded, saying good-bye to Dana and Aidan and following Talie toward the parking lot. Not without a few glances back.

Much as Talie wanted to see her sister happily wed, she felt surprisingly cautious of the idea now that a potential husband had appeared on the scene. Even as she reminded herself that Dana had seen him at the singles ministry event Talie recommended, she couldn’t help but think there must be a way for all of them to get to know each other.

Talie wondered if her mother’s curious glances might mean she felt the same way. Maybe she was just worried Dana would be blinded by the guy’s good looks; he certainly had that going for him.

Once Ben was buckled into his seat and the car was running, he quieted somewhat. Nonetheless Talie sat in the back with him rather than up front next to Luke.

She wasn’t sure what made her think of it. Would it be too meddlesome? But it could work out for everyone’s benefit. Why not? She had to voice the thought, at least.

“Luke, have you begun the interview process for your architectural position?”

* * *

“There’s no reason not to at least mention it to him,” Talie said to Dana on the phone the next night. “Maybe it’ll work out for both of them—Aidan and Luke.”

“I can think of plenty of reasons not to mention it. Dating isn’t a lifelong commitment, Talie. What if this leads absolutely nowhere? Then Aidan will be left working for the brother-in-law of a former . . . whatever. I can’t really call myself his girlfriend after only one brunch date and two lengthy phone calls.”

“I don’t see why that should be awkward, if he likes the job. If it doesn’t work out and he continues to work for Luke, why would you ever have to see him, or vice versa? I rarely see anyone Luke works with.”

“I don’t know. . . .”

“Just mention it to him, Danes.”

“Why are you interested in having him work for Luke, anyway?”

Talie was sitting on the edge of her bed, having set aside the journal she’d been reading again. She stroked one of the pages with a fingertip. Maybe it was the way Aidan had looked at Dana at church on Sunday morning . . . or the way Dana looked back.

Or maybe her hormones were out of whack. She’d been feeling so strange lately.

“It was just an idea,” said Talie. “Forget it.”

“No, I’ll mention it. He’ll probably call me tomorrow, and I can bring it up then.”

Talie smiled. “Then let’s see what God has in store, shall we?”