Chapter 27

27

A timid knock on the bedroom door was followed by the shy voice of the new maid. "Something's arrived for you, ma'am."

"I don't need anything right now." Enya rolled over to face the wall so that the young woman wouldn't see the tears streaking her cheeks, tears that had been all too frequent during the past week of Sullivan's absence.

Somehow she'd managed a visit to her family's home. She'd also gone to mass. But other than that, she'd closed herself off and spent the majority of time in bed. In fact, most days, she could hardly make herself get up at all.

She'd claimed to Mrs. Christy that she was feeling the effects of the pregnancy, that she was tired and aching and emotional. Though the kindly housekeeper didn't challenge her, Enya knew she wasn't fooling the woman.

The truth was, every day Sullivan was gone, she lost more of the will to go on and fight for happiness. She wanted to lose herself in sleep and never awaken. Once or twice she'd even considered taking laudanum to escape into oblivion and find respite from the constant ache in her chest. But always, she thought of her child, the rounding of her stomach growing more prominent with every passing week.

"Ma'am." The new maid spoke hesitantly. Alannah Darragh had come to the house the same afternoon Kiernan had. Enya had asked Mrs. Christy to hire her, even without the interview.

Alannah was a recent Irish immigrant, and it had quickly become clear she had no domestic experience whatsoever. But with her fair hair, pale blue eyes, and beautiful features, Enya wasn't surprised Kiernan favored her. If the young woman wasn't on his list of women he adored, she soon would be.

Alannah's hesitant steps crossed into the room. "Mrs. Christy said you'd be wanting to see the gift, so she did."

Gift? Enya wiped at the tears on her cheek, then shifted toward the maid.

Alannah stood in the center of the large room, her black uniform and white apron hanging too loosely on her thin frame. Her eyes, though kind, held a frightened wariness to them. Her gaze often darted to the windows, as if she was making sure no one was coming after her.

Thankfully, Mrs. Christy hadn't seemed to mind that she had to train Alannah in almost every task. In fact, Mrs. Christy had said that sometimes she liked training maids with no skills rather than retraining a maid with the wrong skills.

"What gift and from whom?" Enya hadn't received any gifts recently, and curiosity quickly chased away some of her sadness. She pushed up to her elbows.

Though the curtains were drawn at midday, the room was bright, painted a summery green with pale yellow accents. Enya had picked the colors because she'd wanted her room to be cheerful. But so far, she'd only found sorrow here.

"Mrs. Christy told me not to say." Alannah's voice held apology. "But I'm to be helping you get dressed and come down to the parlor."

"Ach, I'm not feeling well enough to do so. Please ask her to have the gift brought up to my room."

"She said she can't be bringing it up to you, that you'll need to be going down."

Enya swiped a thick, tangled strand out of her face.

Alannah didn't meet her gaze. Instead she stood frozen in place, as if she expected Enya's wrath to fall upon her.

Enya sighed and slowly sat up. She should have known Mrs. Christy wouldn't let her lay abed forever, that she'd concoct a scheme to force her to get up.

"She did say you're going to like it, ma'am." Alannah's voice dropped to a whisper, and she glanced past the open door into the hallway, likely gauging whether Mrs. Christy could hear her saying more than she ought.

For the better part of the next hour, Enya allowed Alannah to help her get dressed and brush her hair. Since Alannah wasn't yet trained on the latest ladies' hair fashions, Enya styled her own hair simply.

When she was ready, she sat on the stool at her dressing table a moment longer, extending her hand and examining her wedding ring. The large, circular diamond cluster was as exquisitely beautiful today as when Sullivan had knelt in the bedchamber at her parents' home and slipped it on her finger.

Although she'd assumed he'd expect repayment for the gift, he'd never once demanded anything in return. Not time in bed with him. Not affection. Not even companionship.

He'd been the opposite of Bryan in every way, and still she'd held him at arm's length.

If only she hadn't been so stubborn. If only she'd stopped wallowing in self-pity. If only she hadn't thought just about herself.

Instead, she'd taken Sullivan for granted and hadn't appreciated his steady presence and support. He'd known she was hurting after her failed marriage, and he'd been patient and kind, more than she deserved.

But a man could only be patient and kind for so long....

"I miss him, Alannah." Enya's voice cracked, and she had to blink back rapid tears again.

"Him?" Alannah stood behind her, the reflection of her pretty face in the mirror showing both sincerity and concern. The young woman wasn't pretending interest or merely being polite, like some maids did.

"My husband. I miss him terribly."

Alannah's expression softened. "How long will he be gone?" She appeared not to know all that had transpired, which was another credit to Mrs. Christy for refraining from gossiping with the new maid.

"I don't know. Possibly weeks." Enya hoped he would make the return voyage to St. Louis within the month. But what if he decided to stay in New Orleans for a while? After all, what reason did he have to return to her when she'd spurned him so many times?

"That's a long time, so it is. I'm sure he'll be missing you too, ma'am."

Enya nodded. Of course he wouldn't miss her. Not after the way they'd parted. But she couldn't explain that to Alannah.

Blinking back the tears that had plagued her more frequently during her pregnancy, she rose and glanced at the unmade bed. It beckoned her to flop down, cover herself up, and disappear from the world.

But as Alannah started toward the door, Enya fell into step behind her. Now that she was dressed, she'd make herself useful for a few hours and attend to the remodeling and decorating that still needed to be finished.

A short while ago, she'd heard men's voices along with bumping and banging about in the rooms below. It was likely more of the new furniture she'd purchased, perhaps the dining room set. The least she could do was view the pieces and decide how to arrange them.

As she descended the stairs, Mrs. Christy exited the parlor with a smile, her eyes twinkling with barely restrained excitement.

Nearing the bottom, Enya paused, a strange hitch in her breath. Why was Mrs. Christy excited? Was Sullivan in the room? Had he gotten off at one of the ports south of St. Louis and returned to her on a different steamer?

Oh, if only...

She'd run to him, throw herself in his arms, and tell him she was sorry for everything.

She braced her shoulders and then hurried the last of the distance toward the parlor. Mrs. Christy stepped aside, her smile widening, a knowing look upon her face.

Enya moved into the bright and sunny front room with all the new furniture of dark cherry wood and upholstered in warm cream tones, the blue damask tapestries, and the elegant wall hangings. She searched desperately for the person she wanted to see more than anyone else.

But there was no sign of him. No one was in the room.

Even as disappointment crashed through her, her attention snagged on something standing in the middle of the room.

Her pulse gathered speed, and she crossed to it.

A grand piano.

For a moment, she stood in front of it and could only stare. The dark reddish maple was glossy and polished to perfection. The word Erard was written in gold script above the long keyboard. Even the top was open and the stool pulled out, in readiness for being played.

She grazed the ivory keys, then the ebony.

Mrs. Christy stood in the doorway, still beaming.

Enya's throat constricted. Only one person could have given this to her. Sullivan. But how? When? She turned her questioning eyes upon the housekeeper.

"Apparently, Captain O'Brien purchased it on the day before he left St. Louis."

After their argument? After she'd hurt him? He'd still been thinking about her?

"The men who delivered it said that it arrived at the piano store yesterday from Pittsburg."

Erard was one of the best and newest pianos, made in France, a brand used by famous composers. Sullivan always made sure she had the best of everything.

Her knees began to shake, and she lowered herself to the stool. What did this gift mean? Did he still care? Did he still want to be with her?

Several tears spilled over and trickled down her cheeks.

She wasn't worthy of Sullivan's love. But his continued love toward her made her want to be worthy of him. She wanted to stop being broken, wanted to be less selfish, wanted to be the kind of wife a man wouldn't want to leave behind...

But how? How could she become the wife Sullivan deserved, one who would love him unconditionally in return?

His words from their last night sifted through her mind. "You don't have to let the scars of your past determine your future."

Was he right? Maybe she didn't have outer scars the same way he did, but what if she had them inside? And what if she'd let those scars keep her from moving on from her past and embracing the future?

She glided her fingers over the keyboard again. Before her mind registered what she was doing, she was already playing a concerto—Vivaldi's The Four Seasons arranged for the piano. She started with the first movement, "Spring." When she reached "Summer," her fingers slowed and then stopped.

Was she ready for the next movement? She'd had to push through a great deal of pain in order to learn to play the piano again. But she'd done so, and even now, she was determined to play "Summer," even if it didn't reflect her life yet.

If she'd persevered through the pain to play the piano, surely she could persevere through the pain to find love with Sullivan. Maybe she wasn't quite there yet, but she wanted to be ready for him, wanted to move past the scars, so when he returned to St. Louis—and if he returned to her—she'd finally be ready to give him her heart.