Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jesse Beery had a charming personality. He could always make friends with the most savage horse in a few minutes.

—Percy F. Thorn, Author of Humane Horse Training

A fter the delicious meal, the elder adults gathered to sit on the back porch facing the creek, the tree line, and the garden. Veronica led Edward to the piano in the music room, inviting him to sit with her on the bench. Her sisters and Rupert occupied a few chairs in a corner of the room, talking about yesterday's race and some of their other horses.

Edward's voice rang out as nicely as it had during the singing portion of the service at church, and he joined her in playing some of the notes, his hands gliding effortlessly along with hers over the keys. But sharing the piano bench with him, and sitting so close their hands and knees occasionally bumped into each other, did not help matters. An undeniable kind of magnetic appeal kindled between them. With her heart softening toward him, physical attraction in such close proximity amounted to the very last thing with which she wanted to contend.

She could not let this man worm his way into her heart, but part of her enjoyed the experience. Maybe because she so loved sitting at the piano in their lovely home, her childhood home, the only place she'd ever lived. The place she loved so much. Maybe some of it had to do with the many memories she'd collected over the years, sitting at this very bench. And then, when her sisters joined in the last two stanzas of one of her favorite hymns, "Nearer My God to Thee," nostalgia brought moisture to her eyes.

"Do you know ‘In Haven,' composed by Elgar?" Edward asked when they finished singing the hymn. "I believe he changed the name of it from?—"

"‘Love Alone Will Stay'…?" She flipped through some of their sheet music until she found it. "Ah, here it is."

She could have stayed there with him at the piano for hours. The way Edward looked at her, serenading her as he sang the words, his blue eyes alight as his voice blended with her playing—it certainly stirred something in her heart.

She could not, would not, allow herself to fall in love, despite enjoying his companionship. Despite finding him so attractive. Despite him being a perfect gentleman thus far. Despite everyone around her appearing to like him. Despite the fact he liked artwork. Despite the fact he had a wonderful singing voice and could play piano well enough to make her heart feel all warm and happy inside. She needed to stop finding things she liked about this man.

Danger lurked if she continued sitting so close, singing romantic melodies, so when the song ended, she agreed at once to his suggestion for a buggy ride. This left the use of his automobile for Rupert and Veronica's sisters to follow behind or drive slightly ahead as their chaperones.

"Would you and Rupert like to hitch up the buggy?" Veronica began tidying the sheet music and sliding the bench forward. "Most of our employees are off for the rest of the day, being a Sunday and all. You'll find our conveyances parked in the carriage house, farther down from the barn."

Edward's eyes widened, and he scratched his head as they abandoned the music room and began walking down the hall toward the front door. "Hitch up the buggy? Sure…"

Of course, he must be doubtful about finding his way around on a farm foreign to him. And he probably had servants or a livery close to their home for attending to such matters, living in the city. She offered a reassuring smile. "My sisters and I will wait for you here on the veranda."

Ten minutes turned into fifteen as Veronica and her sisters paced outside the front door. Veronica fussed with her bonnet, Delia remarked about the weather, and Gladdie smoothed her gown as often as she sighed.

"I wonder what's taking them so long." Delia gazed toward the barn with an arched brow.

"I don't think they know what they're doing." Gladdie paused in her pacing to tap her foot.

"Let's give them the benefit of the doubt. They hardly know where we keep things, since they are visitors," Veronica pointed out. "Maybe they had to find someone to help."

But fifteen minutes stretched into twenty. By the time the brothers appeared with the buggy, Edward holding the reins behind one of their oldest mares, and certainly not one Veronica would have chosen, her sisters had to smother a good chuckle.

"This is going to be one endless buggy ride," Gladdie mumbled. "Millie is slower than molasses."

"Shall we change out the horse?" Delia asked.

Obviously, Edward and Rupert had done their best. Veronica didn't want to embarrass them. "No, let it be. It's taken them long enough. Millie will probably enjoy the exercise if we don't stay out too long."

Rupert led her sisters to the Oldsmobile, and Edward came around to help Veronica climb into the buggy.

Once they'd turned onto Cornflower Road, the others crowded into the Runabout and following at a slower than slow pace, Veronica wondered if the machine would sputter and stall. She turned to look up at Edward as she rearranged some of the pins in her favorite hat with its piles of cream-colored chiffon so she could see his face better. She smoothed her best Sunday gown, a matching cream chiffon concoction with crisscrossing panels over the bodice and a slender but flowing silhouette with a modest demi-train trimmed in cream lace.

"I'm curious, Edward J. Beckett. Why haven't you married before now? I'm sure you're popular among the ladies with your good looks." She made a mental note to ask him later about what his middle initial stood for.

Edward grinned and tossed her a glance. "You think I'm good looking?"

"Of course," she said with a teasing smile, "but don't let it go to your head."

"Why haven't I married?" He let out a whistle. "That's a good question. I haven't fallen in love yet. I suppose I once knew a girl, Ava, I liked a little more than the others, though I can't say we fell in love. But her father purchased a hotel in California, so she moved to the west coast with her family. I had my studies at Princeton. With a double minor in economics and history, plus my fine arts major, it didn't leave much time for anything beyond the usual campus social activities. I have spent my fair share of time escaping my mother's matchmaking efforts with New York society belles. She's always introducing me to someone or insisting I dance with someone's daughter. Let's just say, I've fine-tuned the art of hiding at social events."

Veronica laughed. "I can just imagine you hiding in curtained alcoves at balls and all of the ladies searching for you."

"It would not be far from the truth, although I do enjoy dancing now and then. What about you? I saw a dozen beaux swirling around you at church this morning."

She smiled and looked out toward the countryside, busying herself with pulling her cream gloves on more snugly as the mare plodded along the country roads around her home. "I wouldn't say there were that many, but yes, I suppose I've had my fair share of beaux. The only one I ever really loved was Henry Sullivan, but his brother Percival pestered me to death with unwanted affection. Once one of my dearest friends betrayed my secret and informed Henry of my feelings for him, he didn't care if I existed. He dismissed me as a silly, lovesick girl."

"It must have left you feeling as if you'd lost both a trusted friend and a possible future love."

"Yes, it broke my heart more than I care to admit. There were a few other gentlemen callers over the years who have asked for my hand, but I couldn't marry any of them knowing it wouldn't be for love. Of course, each time I declined a marriage offer, it threw Mama into a tizzy, but I am determined to marry for love or not at all. In fact, I would prefer to live out my days right here at Velvet Brooks. Right where I belong. I do not need a husband to ensure my happiness. I'm perfectly happy the way things are."

Veronica fidgeted with the elegant lace trim on her right sleeve, tilting her chin upward a little for emphasis on the last phrase. She needn't tell him her heart had been broken so badly, she could never let herself open to embrace love again. If she ever did, it would take far more than someone singing a few sweet songs or accompanying her on a few outings.

"I can certainly understand and agree," he said in a gentle, calm voice. "I mean, not wanting to marry for reasons other than love."

The conversation lulled, and she imagined they both pondered the many reasons they shouldn't marry each other. She had a life she loved in Kentucky. Other than her suspicion about him preferring artwork to helping his father's business, he seemed content with life in Manhattan except for the occasions when his family retreated to their South Carolina coastal estate, Chesapeake Manor. She'd heard his father speak about the home they kept for summer vacations and getting away from the snow for a few weeks at Christmas, and though she imagined it a grand place, one where she could become the future mistress if she agreed to marry Edward, the fact remained—they didn't love each other. They barely knew each other. Though they had a strong mutual interest in artwork and books, he behaved like a fish out of water around a horse farm. She didn't know much about city life, much less about maintaining two grand homes.

Still, she had to know…"And do you have ambitions to become a full-time artist, Edward? Or do you look forward to inheriting your father's investment company one day?" Why not bring it up?

"Nothing would make me happier than the pursuit of my artwork, but my father considers my art and Rupert's interest in animals as hobbies, not careers. He has only permitted us to pursue our fields of interest at our respective universities so we would obtain an education, with the requirement we would each minor in some sort of business, finance, or banking. He fully expects both of us to work at Beckett, Reed & Johnston for the rest of our lives. When he retires, I am to inherit his shares of the company and become a senior partner."

"I see. Perhaps you will find a way around working in stocks someday." She had to say it, although she didn't hold out much hope for him. Clearly, he was trapped, just as she'd suspected.

Yet another reason she shouldn't marry him. He may know all about the stock-trading market on Wall Street, but if it didn't truly make him happy, he had only days of misery ahead.

She knew about horses—breeding, training, and racing them. She came from generations of the horse-racing world. She remained close with her family, but the way Rupert had not defended his brother's dream of becoming an artist, the way Edward seldom addressed his father, and the absence of his mother and sisters made her wonder if perhaps his family lacked close bonds.

And what of Edward's passion? Where would his dreams fit into his life? What a shame to waste Chesapeake Manor while slaving away at Beckett, Reed & Johnston when he could use their second home to inspire his artwork. And would he end up holding down the fort at the investment company while Rupert found a way to work in some rural community as a veterinarian?

Veronica glanced at Edward's handsome profile. Had the man given up on his dream for the sake of responsibility, sacrifice, and loyalty?

Goodness, even though she would never wish unhappiness in his future, those were also admirable traits.

She needed to look harder and find more things she did not like about this city boy.