Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

We should regret our mistakes and learn from them, but never carry them forward into the future with us.

—Lucy Maude Montgomery

E dward parked outside the front door as Veronica leaned on his shoulder, passed out. Holding her steady while he slipped out of the conveyance, he then scooped her into his arms. He hurried across the veranda to the front door, opening it with some fumbling.

Now what? Where was Martin? Veronica weighed about as much as a feather, but the longer he looked around wondering what to do, the heavier her limp body grew.

"Martin? Grace?" he called out. He thought he heard voices in the kitchen, and someone upstairs…but the kitchen was no place for someone passed out, and he couldn't very well barge upstairs.

The sofa in the parlor seemed like the best place, so he hastened down the hall. Hurrying across the sitting room, he stumbled, tripping on the carpet and plummeting toward the sofa. A sharp pain shot through his ankle, but he righted himself and held on without dropping Veronica. Wincing, he somehow managed to gently place her on the sofa.

He limped to the door and bellowed, "Mar-tin?"

Still no answer.

But Veronica began to stir. Signs of her returning to consciousness were good, but oh, his ankle! Thumping pain declared the joint most definitely hurt as he hobbled toward the sofa again. Groaning, he sank onto the far end beside her feet.

"Ed-Edward…" Veronica's eyes fluttered open. With one of her arms extending over the other end of the sofa, she drew in a deep breath. "Wh-what happened?"

"You passed out," he managed to say, strain evident in his voice. "But I'm very glad to see you are awake."

"Passed out?" She shifted, and her hand flew to the site of the bee sting, which had begun to swell and turn red. "H-how did we get here?"

"I carried you. But I tripped on the rug and twisted my ankle." He bit back a groan.

"Oh dear, are you all right?" Veronica managed to sit up and rearrange her skirts.

Finally, approaching footsteps and voices streamed from the kitchen. Martin appeared at the door, Grace hovering on his heels, her arms full of linens.

"Pardon the interruption. Everything all right?" Martin peered at them, eyes wide, his brows arched.

"No, Veronica needs help." Edward grimaced. Why did his ankle have to throb at a time like this? He needed to focus on helping the lady in distress. He would not mention his own condition, at least not yet. Martin would think him a clod once he knew he'd tripped on the Lyndons' carpet. "She was stung by a bee on our drive and passed out."

"Oh no." Martin's eyes grew wide as Grace followed him into the room for a closer look.

"Another bee sting! I'll get my medical bag." Grace shoved the stack of linens she carried into Martin's arms and dashed toward the kitchen.

The butler looked around for a place to set the linens. "How did this happen?"

"I remember now. I'm a bit foggy, but I was driving the Runabout, and…" Veronica gulped. Then she rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "I somehow drove us into that huge honeysuckle on the edge of the Sullivan property line."

"You're both lucky to be alive." Martin drew closer and peered at Veronica. "The Sullivans have been known to shoot trespassers."

"I've heard." Edward grimaced. At least that hadn't happened. The fellas in the barn would've laughed him right out of the state.

He'd felt so heroic carrying Veronica into the sitting room—until he'd made a clumsy fool of himself. He took comfort that she hadn't seen him trip. But the truth was, Kentucky boys didn't endanger their women, frighten their stallions, hitch buggies to retired mares, or stumble on rugs.

What would Veronica think of him now?

V eronica held some ice wrapped in linen over a glob of soda paste applied to her brow. Though she must look ridiculous, she tried to think of how she might console Edward, who currently held his booted ankle with both hands, his shoulders slumped.

They had endured a steady flow of inquisitive help from the household and staff. Mama had been most insistent about sending for the doctor, dispatching Rupert, Delia, and Gladdie on the errand. Meanwhile, Edward had acted—did she dare say?—embarrassed about the whole ordeal.

He hadn't wanted to divulge how he'd injured his ankle or even admit that he had injured it. All he'd said was that he'd rolled his ankle while carrying her inside. Perfectly understandable, in her opinion. Could happen to anyone. But there he sat on the far end of the sofa, stewing, while Mama went with Martin and Grace to prepare the guest room for him.

Though Veronica could hardly see past the ice she had to hold over half of her face, she smiled weakly, a chuckle escaping her lips. "Aren't we a fine mess?"

"Indeed." He scooted a little closer, likely noting her struggle to focus on him.

She softened her voice. "I hate to admit that I agree with Mama, but it won't hurt for the doctor to have a look at your ankle when he checks my bee sting." Earlier, he wouldn't even permit Martin to remove his boot for a better look.

Edward didn't offer a response, but he didn't argue either. A few seconds later, he slipped his arm around her shoulder and drew her closer in a sweet, comforting way. Weak from her fainting spell, she allowed his embrace.

Someday, her parents would install a telephone at Velvet Brooks. But now, with nothing to do but wait for Rupert, Delia, and Gladdie to return with the doctor in tow, she would content herself in the moment, snuggled beside her city boy.

In spite of the day's precarious events, she had to admit one thing. Nestled beside Edward James Beckett, she rather liked the way his strong arm felt around her shoulders and how she fit perfectly under his arm, close to his side.

When had she begun to think of him as her city boy?

D r. Avery assured Veronica she would not perish from the bee sting, and only then did she finally put her concerns to rest. He closed his medical bag and offered a comforting smile. "You would have experienced a worse reaction by now if you were going to die, Miss Lyndon, but it's good you escaped from the other bees. I would be more concerned if you had suffered multiple stings. Now, if I might check on the young man's ankle…"

"Thank you, Dr. Avery," Mama said as Veronica sighed and sank into her pillows with a great deal of relief sweeping over her and a fresh cold compress with ice to hold against her head. "If you'd please follow me to our guest room…"

The doctor trailed her out of Veronica's room. Reaching the second floor had been no easy task for Edward, who had barely made it up the staircase, hobbling the whole way while gripping the railing, with one arm slung over Martin's shoulder.

The doctor confirmed what Edward needed most amounted to plenty of rest and time for his ankle to heal. Mr. Beckett and Rupert agreed it best to keep Edward at Velvet Brooks for a few days, and after dinner, Edward's brother brought his personal items from the hotel.

Martin carried meal trays upstairs to him, while Frances brought Veronica's meal trays up so she wouldn't have to appear downstairs with soda paste above her eye or cold compresses held to her head.

The next day, she experienced less throbbing, and she guessed her Manhattan friend might enjoy it if she read a book to him during their afternoon teatime. Not to mention, she had missed Edward's company over the past twenty-four hours. Grace went across the hall and confirmed Edward would accept her offer to read when Martin brought tea upstairs.

"Shall I return to style your hair then?" Grace offered.

"Yes, please. And I'll wear my best afternoon tea dress."

"All right, but this time, I'm not removing the baking soda paste. The doctor said you'll heal faster if you keep the paste on for a few days."

Veronica knew better than to argue with Grace. When teatime rolled around, she knocked on Edward's open door in anticipation of her visit. "Hello from across the hall," she called out before popping inside.

"Come in, come in." He grinned sheepishly at her from atop his bed. Grace had apparently made up the covers, and he'd dressed for the occasion, though he didn't wear a suit jacket. Despite having his foot propped up on pillows, he wore a bowtie with his freshly ironed shirt, suspenders, and trousers.

"How's your ankle today?" Veronica positioned herself in the corner armchair, poised to read aloud a chapter from the recently published novel The Crisis by a fellow named Churchill. But she was all too conscious of the glob of paste on her brow, so she held the book up high before her face.

"Better. Still sore. And how's your…?" He pointed to her brow area as she peeked over the edge of the book.

"It's not throbbing as much as yesterday. Would you like tea?"

"Yes, please."

She set the book aside and poured them both a cup of the hot drink. "I wonder where my sisters are today. I wasn't told where they were going, but I heard the carriage leave."

"Martin told me your father, Delia, and Gladdie are meeting Rupert and my father in Lexington. They are headed to a museum at Ashland," he said, accepting the tea. "They'll return for dinner."

"Ah, I see. No wonder the house is so quiet. The museum is one of the best. All sorts of relics from the war." She stirred two teaspoons of sugar into her brew. "I do hope you won't mind having someone read to you with a glob of baking soda paste above her eye."

"I think it only makes you more adorable," he remarked with a sly grin on his face, causing her to blush.

"I shall leave if you call me adorable again." Veronica gave him a stern look.

"Tossing the word adorable into the waste bin forever," he promised, pretending to do so with a wave of his hand. "Now, tell me about the book you've selected."

Veronica sipped some of her tea and settled into the chair, holding the book up high again. It pleased her to think he considered her adorable with paste on her brow, but she didn't intend to let him see too much of her condition. Instead, she plunged into an introduction of the book. "I think we'll enjoy this look back at the Civil War. There are characters on both sides of the divide, and Abraham Lincoln is yet a rising star as the story unfolds."

"Ah, very good. I'd like to hear your sweet voice reading the story." He sat up straighter, still wincing each time he moved his ankle. "Maybe it will help me forget I sprained this ankle just walking between the front door and the sitting room. I'm sure the boys out in the horse barn will have a good laugh about that."

"I don't think they will laugh about your injury, Edward. Hush, now. Let us not think such thoughts." She turned to the first page.

"Very well, but only if you promise not to hide your pretty face behind that book."

She sighed, flushing again, lowering the book, and began reading the first chapter. How could she resist this gentleman? She had to admit to herself, if to no one else, she'd begun to fall for the city boy. She couldn't say she was head over heels in love, but she did acknowledge a strong fondness for him.

The idea of him leaving for Manhattan soon, and without her, gnawed at the pit of her stomach. Should she consider going with him? Wouldn't she miss all of the time they shared and the attention he lavished on her?

But how could she leave Velvet Brooks? And what if he couldn't leave New York to live at Velvet Brooks? Could they split their time between the two places somehow? Would he agree to marry her even if she didn't fully love him?

Torn by so many questions, she couldn't bring herself to discuss any of it with him.

Worst of all, what if he turned out to be like Henry? What if she fell for him hard and he left her with a broken heart? Could she face that kind of pain again? The answer she kept coming back to was no, she could not.

T he last few days of the Beckett visit approached. Neither Edward nor Veronica spoke any further about his invitation to accompany him to Manhattan as his fiancée, but the idea swirled around in the forefront of Veronica's mind. Her bee sting healed after a few days, and she no longer needed to apply the baking soda paste, but she continued to read to Edward each day for afternoon tea. Though Rupert and his father traveled daily from the hotel to the farm, Edward remained in the second-floor guest room at Velvet Brooks.

There, he had the best of 'round-the-clock care and attention from the household employees and Veronica's family. Martin, Grace, and Frances insisted on spoiling him, bringing tea and meal trays upstairs, as did Veronica when the staff grew too busy. Levi and Rupert even went upstairs to visit him, and they spoke of the possibility of delaying their return to New York. After four days of rest, though, his ankle healed enough for him to walk with only an occasional limp.

The day before Edward's departure, Mama turned her attention and that of her daughters toward the visit of Aunt Eliza and Aunt Ida. Their mother had two older sisters, both spinsters. Aunt Eliza and Aunt Ida lived together in a small cottage down the road from Grandmother and Grandfather Spencer and wanted to meet the Becketts before their return to New York.

The aunts sat on one of the two small sofas in the sitting room. Edward's father and Rupert hadn't arrived yet, but Edward sat in an armchair near Veronica's father. The men only drank a few sips of tea before excusing themselves. Edward used a cane for the long walk to the horse barn.

This left Delia and Gladdie seated on the other sofa opposite their aunts. At the end of the room nearest the fireplace, Veronica sat beside her mother to assist with passing out cups of tea. Mama poured from her best tea service while Veronica wished she could escape to the horse barn too.

"Did you hear the dreadful news about Miss Julia Baldwin?" Aunt Eliza asked.

"No, I don't believe we have. What has happened to Miss Julia? She was a fine governess for our three daughters for many years here at Velvet Brooks." Mama added some sugar to her tea and stirred.

Aunt Ida leaned forward and lowered her voice. "She was jilted at the altar on her wedding day this past Saturday."

Veronica gasped, her eyes widening. Poor Miss Julia!

"Oh no, that is dreadful news." Mama's cup clanked in its saucer, and she set it aside, sorrow in her eyes.

"Yes, it is. Such a nice gentleman, too, or so we thought until this happened." Aunt Eliza clucked her tongue and sipped more tea.

"Yes, and we're sorry we couldn't arrive earlier during Edward's visit to meet him. We might have had the pleasure sooner if we could have made it to church, but we've had some sickness in the house. Early summer colds, you know." Aunt Eliza sniffled into her handkerchief, dabbing at her nose. "We're only now well enough to enjoy a buggy ride out to Velvet Brooks. It did us some good, did it not, Sister Ida?"

"Oh yes, I very much enjoyed the buggy ride." Aunt Ida sipped some of her tea, but the cup and saucer trembled and clinked in her hands.

Her poor aunts. They lived with only each other for company. A good deal older than her mother, how had they managed to content themselves with what seemed a dreadfully boring and somewhat lonely existence?

Why had they never married? Without marriages, they had no children or grandchildren. And now Miss Julia might experience a similar fate.

The room began to close in on Veronica. Her throat constricted.

"I'm so sorry to hear the news about Miss Julia," Mama said. "But I'm very glad to hear you're feeling better."

"Very sad news about Miss Julia," Delia repeated, exchanging glances with Veronica and Gladdie as their aunts prattled.

Veronica's hands tightened on the arms of her chair, and her eyes widened as she truly glimpsed the reality of an elderly spinster's life for the first time. Struggling to breathe, she did her best to maintain her composure. Did the room seem exceptionally warm?

"Yes, but on a brighter note, the fresh air and getting outside to come and visit all of you has improved our health and revived our spirits so much. Sometimes our bones creak now, and Ida's arthritis flares up, and of course, we have the usual aches and pains that come with old age, but we're managing." Aunt Eliza set the crumpled handkerchief in her lap and picked up her tea.

Veronica squeezed her eyes shut for a few seconds, trying hard not to think of growing old and having arthritis. Yet a vision of past visits from her aunts repeating in much the same manner danced before her. Their faces loomed up close in her memories. First, Ida's face, then Eliza's, then her mama's face telling her to marry someone, then Ida again. Only, the sea of faces swirled in front of her like the hands on a clock, spinning. Tick, tock, tick, tock… The faces continued to spin to the left for a few moments and then to the right—all the while, seconds and minutes of life dwindling away at a rapid pace.

"We're enjoying the lovely weather we've been having as June is nearly upon us." Veronica barely heard her mother's comment. The mention of June only made her warm and dizzy. Thankfully, Mama snapped her fan open and for a moment, Veronica had temporary relief.

"I agree, Eleanor. It's been so nice lately with the flowers all in bloom, but with my gout and arthritis, I don't get out often enough for my daily constitutional." Aunt Ida gestured toward the window with a wrinkled hand displaying bony fingers.

Remembering she had her own fan lying in her lap, Veronica picked it up and deployed it with barely contained desperation. Come to think of it, she couldn't remember a time she hadn't heard Aunt Ida complain about her arthritis and gout. The words echoed in Veronica's mind, and their faces began to spin up close in her thoughts again. Gout, Ida whispered. Arthritis, Eliza's scratchier voice added. Creaking bones. Veronica gulped. Did those whispers contain a warning of her future?

"I just hope and pray we don't have another cholera epidemic like the other epidemics Lexington suffered through in the past." Aunt Eliza sniffled into her handkerchief.

Veronica nearly choked on her tea. Would she end up like her aunts ten, fifteen, or twenty years from now?

Mama sipped some of her tea calmly and returned the cup to her saucer. "You don't really think we'll have another cholera epidemic, do you? It's been years …"

Veronica's fan slipped to the floor.

"Are you all right, Veronica Jo?" Delia inquired from her perch on the sofa.

Gladdie turned her head as Veronica started trembling. "You do look a little pale, Veronica Jo."

Veronica set her teacup aside with quivering hands and blinked, shaking her head, hoping to dismiss the visions dancing in her thoughts, to stop the walls of the sitting room from closing in on her. "P-pardon the interruption, b-but if you'll excuse me, I think I need some fresh air. I don't feel quite right."

She rose and hurried out into the hall, dizzy, clutching any furnishings along the way until she found the front door and opened it wide. She stepped out onto the veranda. The tension in her body released, and she breathed in the fresh air. The dancing and spinning visions of the faces of her aunts and mother vanished.

Glancing over her shoulder toward the house, she collided directly into someone's arms. Veronica gasped and turned to look up into Edward's pleasant blue eyes with a flood of relief and safety.

His strong arms clasped her forearms and held her gently but firmly. "Hello, there. Are you all right, Veronica?"

"I—I think so…" What on earth had just happened?

"I came to see if you could escape for a horseback ride. I had a feeling you'd had enough tea for now, or I was hoping. Perhaps a slow ride, what with my ankle just beginning to feel better…"

"Oh, Edward! Edward!" How handsome he looked in his borrowed riding boots and proper riding attire, even with a cane draped over his arm. "Yes, Edward, yes, take me to Manhattan with you."

Edward took a small step back, dropping his hands. "Truly? You mean it?"

Veronica gulped and glanced down at the sleeve of her dress, fiddling with it. "Purely as a test of our relationship, mind you, as to whether or not we might have a future together. I mean, I'm not entirely convinced we do, but perhaps we should continue getting to know each other. And then, we can decide if any more should come of it, of us." She peeked up at his face. "Do take me with you. Say you'll take me with you."

E dward stood up taller as he looked down at Veronica, his brow arching in wonder. What had caused her to have a change of heart, and should he care why at this point? Perhaps he should just be elated that she was willing to go with him. His father had been pleased at the prospect of him being cooped up close to Veronica—though not happy he'd injured his ankle—and he'd thought it a brilliant way to make the most of his few remaining days with Miss Lyndon. And Edward had enjoyed the past few days, reading books with her and seeing her pretty smile whenever she checked in on him.

He hadn't seen her like this before, though, so willing to give the two of them a chance. He'd thought she would be happy to see him leave so her life could return to normal, but something had shifted. Having sisters, he knew women could sometimes radically change their minds. Maybe it was best not to try to figure this out, but to just thank the Lord above for small miracles.

Recovering, he stammered in delight. "O-of course, yes, I'd very much like to take you to New York, and later, our South Carolina estate."

"That would be very nice." She looked up at him with a genuinely warm smile. "I'd very much enjoy the opportunity to see your studio and meet the rest of your family."

"I've hoped you would give us a chance for some time now. In fact, I've thought of little else since the first day I saw you, racing across the front lawn of Velvet Brooks, all grown up into a beautiful woman with a mind of her own."

Veronica collapsed into his embrace. "Oh, thank you, Edward. Thank you."

"May I kiss you, sweet Veronica Jo?" If he didn't breathe, maybe she would say yes.

Her smile widened, and she tilted the side of her face up toward him. "Yes, you may kiss my cheek, Edward."

He brushed her cheek with his lips. How soft her skin was! And the gleam in her eyes…contentment? Did he detect she may have actually enjoyed his kiss? Indeed, a slight blush tinged her cheeks a rosy pink shade. But she hid her eyes from him, looking down, fiddling with her sleeve again.

"I could get used to this," he admitted, trying to tilt her chin upward with a gentle touch of his finger to view her expression and better gauge her feelings.

Veronica did smile, but only briefly before she spun out of his arms. "Yes, well, that's enough kissing for now. I've got packing to do."

Edward laughed, amused with her escape. "I suppose I can wait until we're in New York. I will try to restrain myself on the train, but do plan on more kissing in New York." His chuckle dwindled as Veronica paused at the door. Hopefully, she realized he was teasing her. Although…maybe it would also help prepare her to open up to him. It would certainly be interesting to see his country beauty react to the city.

She lingered with her hand resting on the doorknob as if she had something else to tell him.

"What is it, Veronica Jo?" he asked gently.

She turned to him, clasping her hands behind her back. Her playful smile reassured him she had indeed realized he teased her. "As for the arrangements when we are in New York, I believe Mother will require that I stay with my Aunt Mae, and I'm sure she'll insist upon my having a travel companion."

"Of course." He nodded.

Before he could say another word, she disappeared inside the house. He resisted the urge to toss his hat into the air. He could hardly wait to tell his father and brother she would accompany them to New York, after all, but most of all, he had hope. Hope they might indeed marry, if he didn't mess this up. It didn't matter that it had all started out as his father's plan to save the coffers. What mattered was that he'd found the girl of his dreams, and he didn't intend to lose her.

Thank you, Lord!

V eronica closed the door and leaned against it, touching her cheek where Edward had kissed her. Goodness! The man stirred something within her, something she'd experienced with Henry a few years ago. She had to admit, she liked Edward's kiss, but she didn't dare let him worm his way into her heart the way she had let Henry, only to end up broken beyond repair.

However, she'd come to her senses. If she didn't want to shrivel into an old maid like her two Lexington aunts, she needed to take this small step in the right direction. It didn't mean she had to give him her heart necessarily. A marriage with Edward did not mean she had to love him. She could preserve her heart within the confines of the relationship. That, she might be able to do, for sensible reasons all the way around.

Oh bother. Why was love such a complicated matter? In any case, she would have plenty of time to ponder the answer to that question on the train. Right now, she needed to find Grace or Frances to help her pack her trunks, and let Mama know she would be traveling to New York.