Patchwork Christmas, page 27
Passing Nana’s room, she heard all sorts of commotion inside. She let herself in.
Nana was sitting at her dressing table. Two maids fluttered around her, one doing her hair and another brushing off a dress.
“What’s going on?” Ada asked.
Nana turned around on the bench. “Shame on you for not telling me we have a guest, Ada.”
Ada was confused. “You mean Mr. Alcott?”
“Of course I mean Mr. Alcott. Who could help but hear him?” She pointed at the burgundy moire dress. “Do you think this will be appropriate for dinner?”
“Dinner?” Nana had not joined the family for dinner in years.
“I assume he’s staying for dinner.”
Ada had lost all track of time. It was nearly the dinner hour. “I suppose he could. I haven’t asked him.”
“Where are your manners, child? Go invite him to stay, and leave me to my toilette.”
Ada met the eyes of the maids, and they both shrugged as if they didn’t know any more than she did.
There was a story behind all this….
There had been much scrambling behind the scenes to set two extra places for dinner and alert the kitchen of the additional guests, not for the quantity—there was always enough food—but for their identity. The invalid Mrs. Bauer had actually dressed for dinner, and the other diner was the grandfather of the injured man upstairs—who used to be Miss Ada’s beau…. The servants’ grapevine would lose its leaves tonight.
Ada saw her grandmother walk into the dining room on the arm of Mr. Alcott. “Look at her,” she whispered to her brother.
“Look at them,” John said.
They were seated, and the dinner service began. Mother looked peeved, but Ada’s father was positively jolly. “My, my, Nathaniel Alcott, how good to see you. And Mother Bauer … you light up the room.”
“Why, thank you,” Nana said.
Mr. Alcott smiled at Nana. “The last time I saw you look so lovely was the first of August, 1832.”
Nana blushed—she actually blushed! Ada had never seen pink on her cheeks.
And they knew each other?
“It was a Wednesday, Nate. And if I remember correctly—which I do—you looked quite dashing yourself.”
Mother’s soup spoon clattered onto the table. “Mother! You’re a married woman.”
“I’m a widow, and Nathaniel is a widower. And in 1832 neither one of us was married.”
Mr. Alcott laughed. “We weren’t married, and we didn’t have more than a nickel in our pockets. We’d just arrived in New York City.”
“We met on the voyage over,” Nana said. “Nathaniel and I had quite the shipboard romance.”
“Why haven’t we heard any of this before?” Ada asked. “Especially since I was going to …”
Mother’s head was shaking so vehemently, Ada feared for her neck. “This is totally inappropriate dinner-table talk. I want—”
Father interrupted. “It’s fascinating dinner-table talk, my dear. And I want to hear the answer to Ada’s question myself.”
Nana and Mr. Alcott exchanged glances, and suddenly their wrinkles fell away and Ada could imagine them as twentysomething youths with America at their feet.
Mr. Alcott continued the story. “Our ship arrived in New York City on August second, so there was a party on board the evening before.” He grinned. “Hildegard and I danced until the soles of our shoes begged for relief.”
“We danced out of desperation. Our families had divergent plans in America. We didn’t know if we’d ever see each other again,” Nana said. “And we didn’t—for ten years.”
“Which was after I married my Emma.”
“And after I married my Herbert.”
Ada was entranced. To think that her grandmother and Samuel’s grandfather had known each other, and loved each other …
Mr. Alcott took a spoonful of squash soup and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Even Samuel doesn’t know of our connection. I planned on sharing all of this with him and your family, but then …” He looked around the table, making sure he gave each diner a look. “I must apologize for last year. I’m devastated that Samuel’s choice brought such pain to so many.”
Ada’s father answered. “We appreciate how hard it was on you, too, Nathaniel. I’m just pleased you’ve had a chance to be reunited—though the conditions are less than ideal.”
John piped in. “I do believe Samuel will recover.”
“You do?” Ada and Mr. Alcott asked at the same time.
“I do. His body is taking care of first things first, which is resting in order to repair itself.”
Ada was glad for John’s words.
Then Mother said, “Ada is nearly betrothed to Owen Reed. The Reeds make their fortune in shipping.”
Ada was appalled. “Mother! I am not engaged to Owen yet.”
“You will be. Mark my words.”
“Good for you,” Mr. Alcott said. “Do you love him?”
Mother gasped, but Nana nodded, also wanting an answer.
“Forgive me for being so forthright,” Mr. Alcott said. “I’ve wasted too many months holding my tongue. But now that I’m released from my self-imposed prison, I realize there are only so many words left to say, so I shouldn’t waste time being coy or subtle.”
Nana nodded. “As I always knew, you’re a man after my own heart, Nathaniel Alcott.”
After an awkward silence, Father turned to John. “Now then. Tell us how things are progressing over at the Academy, son.”
The discussion shifted.
Thank you, Father.
After dinner Ada stood beside Samuel’s bed. Mr. Alcott had gone home but would return tomorrow. Her mother had retired with a headache. And Nana … Her grandmother’s room was Ada’s next stop before retiring for the night.
Ada had given the nurse a break so she could go have some dinner, but mostly because Ada needed this time alone with Samuel. With the story about Nana and Mr. Alcott …
Everything had changed.
It wasn’t a monumental transformation, but knowing that their grandparents had once loved each other caused a shift in Ada’s thinking. When she and Samuel had been together, they’d often shared a common belief that God had brought them together—which had made their split especially painful. What God has joined together, let no man put asunder. But now … who would have thought a traffic jam and a rearing horse could have been instrumental in bringing Ada and Samuel back into each other’s lives? It was an astounding coincidence.
Or not. Perhaps there was no such thing.
Perhaps it was God. Who but the Almighty could have arranged it? And on that very outing, hadn’t Ada prayed that she would find Samuel? Perhaps God wasn’t through with them yet.
Suddenly Samuel breathed deeper, a long, controlled in and out.
Ada leaned over him, touching his forehead. “Samuel? It’s Ada. Please wake up and know me. Please.“
But Samuel slept on.
For now.
“Come in.”
Ada entered Nana’s bedroom and found her in her usual spot in bed, leaning against a mountain of pillows. Yet tonight there was something different about the scene.
“You’re positively glowing, Nana.”
Nana put her palms to her cheeks. “Am I?”
Ada sat on the edge of the bed. “You had quite a surprise for us this evening.”
“My, that was fun,” she said. “And the look on my daughter’s face …”
“So Mother didn’t know? Any of it?”
Nana shook her head. “When you and Samuel started courting, I crossed paths with Nate as our families began to socialize. But his wife had recently died, and the focus needed to be on you two lovebirds. We occasionally discussed telling the families of our connection but decided we would wait until after you were betrothed.” She shrugged, then smiled. “He’s still quite a handsome man, don’t you think?”
Ada laughed. “I suppose he is.”
Nana snuggled down under the covers. “Turn off the light, child. I’m looking forward to happy dreams.”
Chapter 10
Mr. Alcott spent most of his days by his grandson’s bedside, and though Samuel occasionally stirred and even spoke a few incoherent words, he did not fully awaken.
Ada tried to be patient, and she renewed her prayers, thinking that if God saw that she had pulled aside the curtain she’d drawn between herself and the Almighty since last Christmas, He might hear her pleas and fully bring Samuel back to her.
Nana spent her days keeping Mr. Alcott company. Ada often paused at the door to Samuel’s room and listened to their happy voices and laughter. They sounded like young people, eager in each other’s company. Not at all like a sickly octogenarian or a broken, rumpled man, hidden away in his study. What had changed them?
Love.
Though Ada dared not mention that word in front of her mother—who could not hide her annoyance toward the two—Ada knew love was the reason for their transformation. And it gave her hope. If she loved Samuel enough, and if he still loved her …
Anything was possible.
But first things first. Tonight was her family’s Christmas party. The Wallace household would be teeming with seventy-some guests, all dressed in their holiday best. There would be a seven-course meal, Christmas caroling, and even some dancing to a string quartet hired for the occasion. Yet in spite of the merriment, Ada wished she could spend the evening in Samuel’s room with Nana and Mr. Alcott. Although they were obviously invited to the party, they had declined for the sake of propriety. Having Samuel ensconced in the Wallace home had created enough brouhaha among their set. Knowing Nana and Mr. Alcott’s past—and present—relationship would have been too much for society to bear.
Sadie pinned a sprig of holly in Ada’s hair. “There. How do you like it?”
It was very pretty—and Ada said so. The problem was her heart wasn’t in the evening.
Especially since there was the chance that tonight Owen would propose. She knew it was her mother’s fervent wish. And as such, it was Ada’s fervent fear. For even though she loved Owen—in a way—with Samuel back in her life … she couldn’t become engaged to Owen. She just couldn’t.
And yet, with Samuel still out of commission, with no words exchanged between them, she couldn’t be certain he still loved her. What if Owen proposed and she declined, and then Samuel woke up and he declined? To enter another Christmas having lost two beaus—one of them twice?
Yet wouldn’t it be worse to marry the wrong man?
“Does your head hurt, miss?” Sadie asked, looking at Ada’s reflection. “Would you like me to get you some headache powder?”
Ada nodded. It was not a good way to begin a party.
“You look very pretty tonight, Ada,” Owen said, kissing her cheek.
“Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.” She forced a smile, hating her mood, knowing Owen didn’t deserve her brooding.
“How is Samuel?” he asked.
“He still hasn’t fully awakened.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
A few other friends asked after Samuel, but Ada could tell their interest was more prurient in nature than a true concern for his health. They wanted him well so he could talk and add to the gossip by giving details of where he’d been for the past year. They wanted him well so they could shun him.
But as the festivities began, the guests forgot Samuel Alcott was in the house. They mingled and laughed, ate heartily from the mountain of holiday delicacies, sang carols, and danced to the string quartet. Ada went through the motions. She smiled at the appropriate times, offered the appropriate verbal response to every question, and danced with her usual ease, but her heart was elsewhere.
Upstairs. Close, but so very far away.
Ada’s mother seemed to be the only one who sensed something was wrong, because the more Ada felt detached from the party, the more frenzied her mother became, flitting from this couple to that one, talking too loudly, laughing too forcibly, and being too much the hostess.
Ada looked toward the stairs longingly. If only she could make a discreet exit.
But then Owen stepped forward among the crowd and clinked a fork against a glass. “Attention, friends! Attention, please.”
The musicians ceased, and the room grew quiet as everyone drew close.
“I have an announcement to make.”
At first, Ada, wrapped up in her if-only thoughts, felt no premonition of what was to come. But when she saw the beaming face of her mother, she knew a specific plan had been hatched and was about to play out.
No! No, Owen. Don’t do it!
But Owen continued. “In this season of love and goodwill, I would like to ask Miss Ada Wallace to be my wife.” He took her hand, got down on one knee, and repeated the question. “Ada, would you marry me?”
It was as though Ada were removed from the moment, as if she floated near the coffered ceiling and looked down upon the scene. Owen’s proposing in public? Now?
Before she could gather herself to figure out if there was a way to politely decline, her mother rushed forward and said, “Yes! Of course, Owen! How wonderful!” She held out her glass. “Come, everyone. Toast the happy couple!”
Awkwardly, the guests gained a glass. Owen stood, but his eyes were on Ada, the question still on his face.
But she couldn’t say yes. And with seventy guests ready to toast their betrothal, she couldn’t say no. Not here. He deserved an explanation, and that wasn’t possible here.
“To Owen and Ada!” someone said.
“Hear, hear!”
Hugs and congratulations followed.
What had just happened?
The party was over, and thankfully the house was quiet. The guests and Mr. Alcott had returned home. Ada felt wrung out inside, yet she could not retire until she talked with Nana. She found her seated at the dressing table, a maid braiding her waist-length hair in preparation for bed.
“How was the party, child? Tell me all about it.”
Ada took over for the maid and waited until she was gone before speaking. “Long ago I promised that you would be the first to know.”
It only took Nana a few seconds to understand. She stopped Ada’s braiding by facing her. “You’re engaged?”
Ada nodded.
“To Owen.”
“Of course to Owen. It’s not like Samuel has suddenly awakened and proposed.”
Nana’s shoulders slumped, her forehead strained in deep thought. “You didn’t have to say yes.”
“And I didn’t! Not really.” Ada explained what had happened. “And afterward, on more than one occasion, I tried to pull Owen aside to set him straight. But each and every time I had him alone, Mother appeared and pulled us back with the others. It’s very clear she instigated the entire proposal. I don’t doubt she even assured Owen I would accept, for I can’t imagine him proposing in public unless he was sure of my answer.”
“What Winifred wants, Winifred gets.”
Ada nodded. “Mother was so strong. She just stepped in and—”
“Made it happen.”
Ada nodded. “So how can it be fixed?”
Nana put a hand on Ada’s, quieting her. “There’s only one question that needs to be asked.”
“What’s that?”
“What do you want?”
Immediately Ada’s mind became congested with words and thoughts. “I … I—”
Nana held up a hand and shook her head. “Shh. Don’t say anything now. Life-changing decisions are like tea; they need to steep in hot water in order to develop their full flavor.”
“But I’m already in hot water. I’m engaged!”
Nana moved to the bed and snuggled into the pillows. “Turn down the light, child, and bring me some tea in the morning.”
Ada sat at her dressing table in her nightgown, brushing and rebrushing her hair.
I’m engaged.
Nana’s question returned: What do you want?
She closed her eyes but found Owen’s face there—his smile broad as he stood at the door and kissed her cheek good night. “We can choose a ring together, Ada. Your mother thought …” He’d finished the evening with a declaration. “I’ll make you happy, Ada. I promise.”
“No!” Ada threw her brush on the dressing table, knocking over a perfume bottle.
The smell of honeysuckle wafted toward her as she righted it. But it was the only thing that could be righted….
She had no doubt Owen would try to make her happy. He was a good man, a kind man, and up until very recently, she’d thought he was the right man.
And all logic said that was still true. In fact, she’d hoped for a night like this, a festive night where he would propose.
That is, until Samuel came back into her life.
The fact she’d never told Owen yes seemed of little import to her friends, to her family, or to Owen. To them the deed was done, the betrothal made. Ada leaned her head on her hands.
She started when her mother entered unannounced, her arms outstretched, her face glowing with gladness. “Ada, my dear daughter. You did it! You really did it.”
Before Mother could make contact, Ada turned around on the bench and glared at her. “I didn’t do anything, Mother. I didn’t even say yes.”
Mother took a step back, her hand to her chest. “Of course you did.”
“Of course you did. You stepped in and agreed for me. You didn’t give me the chance to answer him—nor to make things right.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking—”
Ada stood to face her. “You have every idea. In fact, I suspect every detail of this evening was your idea.”
Mother tried to veil a smile but was only partially successful. “I’m not going to argue with you, Ada. If, as you say, I answered for you, it’s because someone had to take charge and move you forward on your proper path.”
“The path you think is proper.”
“Absolutely. I’ve seen the look in your eyes since Samuel came back. He spurned you once, Ada. Are you truly waiting for him to awaken so he can spurn you again? Nothing has changed. You might as well live in separate countries for the expanse of class and philosophy that divides you. Owen is one of us. He loves you. And if you’d snap out of your fog, you’d see he’s the best thing that’s happened to you.”
