Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

It is the glory of God to conceal a thing, but the honor of kings is to search out a matter.

—Proverbs 25:2

Mid-July 1901

T he balcony incident offered inconclusive evidence in Veronica's effort to seek truth about her fiancé. Veronica's severe allergy to beestings had caused an immediate fainting fit. Thankfully, Edward had scooped her up into his arms—or so Aunt Mae had told her later. A servant had led him as he carried Veronica to a drawing room, with Aunt Mae, Mrs. Cleave, Mirabel, and Rupert on his heels. This had caused quite a stir among the guests at the ball, according to Aunt Mae.

The only thing Veronica remembered was waking up in Edward's arms to his blue eyes looking at her with such adoration that she found it harder and harder to believe the accusation of his sisters. Edward had insisted upon carrying her to Aunt Mae's carriage. And so off they went—Aunt Mae, Edward, and Veronica—the note all but forgotten in the ensuing chaos.

Frances had tended her sting, knowing exactly what to do. Grace had equipped her well. Consequently, Veronica hadn't attended church on Sunday morning, not with a welt smothered in baking soda paste still healing on her face.

To make matters worse, the incident delayed her and Aunt Mae from leaving with Edward's family on the train the following Monday for Chesapeake Manor. Edward had agreed to remain behind and make the journey with them a few days later, while his family went on ahead.

Meanwhile, Veronica took the opportunity to pray and ask the Lord to reveal the truth about Edward and Mirabel to her during their time in South Carolina. She had too much invested in the relationship to simply walk away now, and she deserved to know why Mirabel had passed Edward a note, allegedly to deliver to Rupert.

What had Mirabel written in the note? Was it truly for Rupert? Had Edward's sisters fabricated their story, and if so, why? Or did Mirabel and Edward use Rupert as a cover for their own affections? This seemed unlikely given the amount of affection Veronica sensed from Edward toward herself, leaving her stumped. Since she had found no other clues to corroborate the supposed clandestine affair, and it seemed so out of character for Edward, she desperately wanted to believe him innocent in the matter. Nonetheless, duped by Henry Sullivan before, she would not rest her case until she knew for certain.

S hortly after settling into a private compartment neighboring that of the women in their party on the train bound for Chesapeake Manor, Edward knocked on the door to the space Veronica shared with the ladies—Frances Ellis, Aunt Mae, and Aunt Mae's personal maid, Adeline. They'd had to switch over to a ferry taking them to the mainland before transferring their trunks to the train. He had managed to herd all of the women onto the train without losing anyone or their belongings.

Once Aunt Mae bid him enter, he slid the pocket door open and sought Veronica's gaze. "Care to join me at a table in the dining car for breakfast?"

Veronica offered a strangely weak smile, but her aunt waved them away, returning to reading a book and enjoying a hard-boiled egg. Frances looked up from a sampler she stitched with a nod before refocusing on her needlework. Adeline's eyes were closed, occasional snores escaping her open mouth.

In the dining car, they settled at a table for two. A waiter brought them coffee and orange juice while they waited for their orders of scrambled eggs and bacon to arrive. The train sped past miles of farmland, carrying them farther from the city. "I can see you've healed from the bee sting." Edward doctored his coffee. "You look beautiful, as ever. Maybe a little pale. Are you sure you're all right?"

"The sunshine and ocean air will do me some good, and thank you for delaying the journey." Despite her words, Veronica's brows furrowed.

Was she on edge about something? She hadn't behaved like herself since the day he'd spotted her on horseback on Fifth Avenue.

The waiter arrived with their plates, and Edward reached for a pepper shaker and seasoned his eggs. Then he began buttering the biscuit, but Veronica only stared at him. Finally, despite his growling stomach, he put his knife down. "Something's troubling you. You haven't touched your breakfast."

"Edward, the note Mirabel gave you on the balcony to give Rupert—have you given it to him yet?" Veronica clutched her coffee cup.

"Oh, drat! When you passed out from the bee sting, I forgot about it."

That was what had troubled her? He reached inside his wallet and rummaged about. Producing the note, he unfolded it and read it silently, hoping it hadn't contained anything too important. All good. He smiled. Then he handed it to her.

"I may as well share it with you. I can't keep Rupert's secret any longer. He's sworn me to secrecy, for reasons which I will explain. But please keep this to yourself. Our parents don't know yet. They are friends with Mirabel's parents, and Rupert thinks they won't be eager to support him if it means defying her parents and their wishes."

Had Veronica thought him deceptive in some way? He'd only tried to shield his brother.

V eronica stared at the note. Rupert had a secret? Edward had been helping him keep a secret that had something to do with Mirabel? Defying her parents? Mirabel had said her mother was friends with his mother. How wonderful that Edward had not attempted to deny that he'd accepted the note from Mirabel—he'd forgotten about it! How could Mirabel be that important to Edward if he'd forgotten about it?

And even more wonderful, he'd still had it in his wallet, and now she held it in her trembling hands. If he'd had something to hide, surely, he would have made up some sort of excuse, but instead, he handed it over to her to see for herself. She read quickly, silently.

Dearest Rupert,

Yes, I will marry you, even if it means we will be poor as church mice and live in the countryside in some small town with you as the veterinarian for the community. You have my undying love and devotion.

Sincerely Yours Forever,

Mirabel

Her mouth popped open. Why hadn't she seen it before? Mirabel and Rupert had fallen in love. How foolish of her to believe Edward's sisters. Veronica covered her mouth so no one could hear her laughter as the Lord freed her from her doubts in one sweet, glorious moment.

Edward raked a hand through his hair. He looked adorable with messy hair. She wanted to take him in her arms and kiss him. But she couldn't exactly reach across the table to do anything of the sort on a public train. Tears misted her eyes. Tears of relief. In the next instant, anger rose—not at Edward or Mirabel, but that his sisters had duped Veronica so easily.

"Don't cry, Veronica. What's all this about?" he asked, reaching across the table to comfort her by placing a hand over hers.

"Oh, Edward. These are happy tears. I'm happy for Mirabel and Rupert, but I'm also happy for us." She sniffled and then drew herself up straighter in her seat, relieved to shed all of her worries.

"Well, then. Do eat some of your breakfast. Your food is getting cold."

She nodded and obediently took a few bites of her scrambled eggs. Buttering her biscuit, she plunged onward, her eyes lowered. "I also have a confession to make. Please don't hate me."

"I could never hate you."

"Your sisters…"

"What have they done now?" He looked at her with exasperation in his blue eyes, about to take a bite of his biscuit.

"When they came to apologize about their behavior at the first ball, they told me you were having an affair with Mirabel. Th-that she would become your mistress if we married."

Edward set the biscuit aside. "They said what?"

She nodded. "I know, it sounded unbelievable to me, too, but after what happened to me with Henry… And we haven't known each other for very long. And I know almost nothing about Mirabel…" Veronica fell silent at Edward's scowl. Had she done the wrong thing in telling him?

" Y es, I can see how it would upset you." Edward blew out a breath. Since he knew Henry had broken Veronica's heart, he couldn't be angry with her for wondering about the lie his sisters had told her. But anger stirred in him about what they'd done. "Nothing could be further from the truth, and I'm trying to figure out why they would say such a thing."

"I can understand they may feel some disappointment about Aunt Mae being unable or unwilling—I'm not sure which—to secure them invitations to the Cleave Ball, but all I can think is that for some reason, they're trying to scare me away from marrying you." Veronica stirred the eggs on her plate.

"To be perfectly honest, I'm steaming mad at my sisters. Once Father hears of this and all of the other incidents, he won't like it either. Now that he's back from his business trips, I just have to find the right time to discuss this and our other plans for a Kentucky wedding and splitting our time in two states. I will get to the bottom of this, Veronica. I apologize for my family. I hardly know what to say." He had only to find the right time to approach his father—about this and the other things on his mind. If he could finish sorting through them.

E dward spoke so sternly, Veronica caught sight of some other passengers looking their way. "It's all right, Edward. The Lord has shown me truth. That mattered more to me than anything else." God would surely deal with his sisters if she continued to forgive them in her heart.

"No, it's absolutely not all right. My father won't like any of it. I hope to approach him after he's had a chance to enjoy the beach and being with the family again." He balled his fist on the table. "As for Rupert, he and Mirabel have been sneaking around together for a while. Since she doesn't have much of a dowry and her parents want her to marry someone with a title and wealth, it's made it complicated for them."

"I think it's sweet Rupert and Mirabel want to be together. Does it sound as though he plans to abandon ship and move to the countryside to pursue his field of study someday?" Veronica reached for his hand, and he relaxed it to take hers.

Edward's brow arched. "It's hard to say from this note, but it does sound that way. It's his passion, like art is mine. But I'm sure he wants to graduate first."

She nodded, a wave of relief concerning Edward's loyalty washing over her soul. His sisters aside, wouldn't it be nice if Edward could fully pursue his passion too?

Lord, help dear Edward. He is so talented. I know his art can touch hearts for You.

T wo weeks later, after a picnic lunch, Veronica sat on a quilt spread out on a sandy dune overlooking the ocean with the Beckett siblings. Edward and Rupert played badminton about ten feet away.

When they first arrived, Edward had taken her on a tour of their summer home. Chesapeake Manor, a glorious Greek revival mansion with Federalist influences seen in its columned front pillars, stood tall and proud, set back a distance from the ocean on a ridge. An hour's drive from the center of Charleston, they had miles of beach all to themselves with their nearest neighbors several miles away. As far as her eyes could see were only sandy dunes, long stretches of glistening beach, and foamy waves rolling in and out. Straight ahead, only the immense span of sea stretched into the horizon, not a ship in sight. She hadn't seen the ocean in years, but the waves lapping the stretch of beach bordering the ridge where Chesapeake Manor's lawn began had a calming effect.

She and her aunt had fallen into the Becketts' holiday routine. Mr. Beckett took long afternoon naps. Aunt Mae spent time with Edward's aunt and mother, and after big family dinners in the long formal dining room, Veronica took romantic walks with Edward on the beach at sunset. She strolled the gardens with Aunt Lavinia holding onto her arm, and nearly every afternoon, she read excerpts to her from Jane Austen, Louisa May Alcott, or Charles Dickens or accompanied her on a carriage ride. In fact, Aunt Mae, Adeline, and Frances had also helped find ways to occupy Lavinia's time. This spared Edward's sisters from having to act as a companion to their aunt, something they considered a chore. As it turned out, Aunt Lavinia wasn't the sour old lady they painted her to be.

A cool glass of sweet iced tea in her hands, wearing her nautical-style swimming suit with its matching cap, Veronica planted her toes in the sand while watching Edward and Rupert play a brotherly yet competitive game.

Sophie rose from her place and plopped down on the quilt next to Veronica. "You've hardly spoken a word to us since arriving, Veronica."

Henrietta scooted closer to them, onto the edge of the blanket, picking up some sand and letting it filter through her fingers and picking out a seashell for the collection she'd begun to gather for a craft project.

"I don't have much to say." Veronica glanced at them before returning her gaze to the ocean.

She regretted her curt reply almost immediately. Why couldn't she have said something such as she didn't possess a chatty nature? She'd come to visit them hoping Edward's family would accept her, hoping they would embrace and welcome her. She had hoped they would at least find happiness in their hearts for their brother.

"I don't blame you. We've behaved terribly. We can see our mother isn't very welcoming. Maybe her attitude has impacted us," Sophie offered in a quieter and more genuine voice than Veronica had ever heard her use before.

Still…hadn't life taught her not to trust everyone? It would take time. They would have to earn her trust. Only a kind of sympathy for them remained.

"You mean she doesn't like people like my family, like me. People with horseracing blood in their veins who had to build their empire, rather than being born with blue blood?" Veronica heard herself say in a tone that contained more than a little bitterness and hurt. If only they hadn't said anything of depth to her.

She would have to dig deeper to find a more complete forgiveness toward Edward's sisters and his mother. Hadn't the Lord said to forgive those who trespassed against her as He forgave her? She would keep trying, for Edward's sake. It might take a little more time and prayer.

"We can tell Edward is much happier with you by his side. It's obvious he's crazy about you." Henrietta plucked another seashell from the sand.

"I think you might need to tell him that," Veronica retorted. "I haven't seen anyone care to ask him what he thinks or wants in any of this."

"If you are referring to Mother's comment last night about having the wedding in New York, she is thinking of Edward and his friends." Sophie lifted her chin, sitting up straighter.

"No, she's thinking about herself and her friends." And Aunt Mae had said much the same in reply to Gloria Beckett at the dinner table. At least here, while they stayed in the main house with his family, Edward's mother had to invite them to supper each night. Veronica didn't want to discuss the matter with his sisters or his mother. They wouldn't change until Edward found a way to speak to his father.

"Well, if you want to win Mother over, continue helping her entertain Aunt Lavinia. She runs herself ragged looking after her." Henrietta nodded toward the manor house.

Veronica pressed her lips together. Of course, she would continue to spend time reading to Edward's aunt, taking her on short walks in the garden, and anything else she could think of. But just as much because Lavinia was precious and witty as to lighten Mrs. Beckett's load. She wasn't na?ve enough to think anything she could do would win Mrs. Beckett over. Maybe only after a great passage of time. And she certainly wouldn't fall into the trap of believing Henrietta didn't have some alternative reason behind the suggestion. She probably hoped to drive a wedge between Veronica and Edward by keeping her too busy to spend time with him.

As for Mrs. Beckett? Why, no doubt she was merely biding her time until she could put someone else under Edward's nose.

Veronica set her tea aside and rose from the quilt.

"Veronica, where are you going?" Edward called as she walked away. "Come play badminton with us."

She placed a hand over her eyes to shade them from the bright sun. "I'm going inside to check on Aunt Mae and Aunt Lavinia, darling. I promised them a carriage ride sometime today. I need to change."

"I haven't seen Aunt Lavinia enjoy carriage rides in years." Rupert shook his head and wiped his sweaty brow. "You work wonders with her, Veronica."

Veronica smiled weakly.

"I'll join you." Edward shot his sisters a wary look and tossed his racquet aside. "We'll play tomorrow, Rupe." Then he hurried to catch up to Veronica.

After Veronica had changed into something suitable for their ride, she met Edward in the upstairs drawing room where their aunts had enjoyed tea with Mr. and Mrs. Beckett.

"There you are, Veronica. A telegram just arrived for you from Velvet Brooks," Aunt Mae said, handing her an envelope as Edward's siblings entered the drawing room. "Open it, please. Tell me everyone is all right."

Veronica tore the envelope open. She scanned the contents of the message. Delia had sent the telegram, begging her to return home. Clay Grinstead had jilted Gladdie. Her sister was in a state of complete despair. "It's Gladdie. She's suffered a heartbreaking situation, and I am needed at home." She looked up at Edward. "Forgive me, darling. I must go to her side at once."

Aunt Mae spoke over the murmurs in the room. "Praise be to God no one has died. She'll recover from a heartbreak, but nonetheless, you must go. Your sister needs you. Frances can pack your trunks. I have enjoyed my time here getting to know Lavinia. I'll stay another day or two and return to Manhattan until I hear about your wedding plans."

Veronica sighed and nodded in agreement. Though she would be glad to leave the Beckett women, she regretted parting abruptly from her aunt and especially Edward's company, but she was needed at Gladdie's side.