AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Mr. Blackwell is waiting, Rosemary, please get up.”
Groggy, I followed her to my room where the trunks had been removed and the bed had been made. Mary stoked the fire, beckoning me to the vanity when it was an acceptable height. I took my seat, meeting my own eyes in the mirror. The evidence of the night before turned my stomach, sapphire eyes swollen and red, my cheeks puffy and pink.
“I worry about you. You had that horrible mark on your face and you’ve a cut on your arm. You’ll be so far from us in Boston at such a fragile point in your life… are you sure William is good to you?” She pinned my hair into place.
“You needn’t worry, Mary,” I quietly reassured her. “William is wonderful, I promise.” Though, I too was becoming more and more anxious. I hoped with William around more, maybe Noel’s intrusions would be less frequent.
“You’ll let me know if you need anything?” Mary asked as she dressed me in the deep emerald gown, almost the same shade as William’s eyes.
“Of course,” I lied.
“Rosemary, I have loved you since you were but a wee kitten nuzzling at your mother’s breast. You are like my own child, and watching you blossom into a grown woman has been a blessing in my life. Please come home, and please allow us the joy of helping you raise your child.” She gently laid her hand on my stomach, tears staining her cheeks. I only embraced her, too overcome with sadness to mutter a word. Nothing I could say would feel right.
The lump in my throat grew tighter as I descended the stairs into the foyer. My heart broke over Mary’s words. She who had been there every morning and every evening of my life. I loved her as much as my mother, despite her displeasure with the way my courtship had gone.
William, Mother and Father stood by the door waiting for me. Mother draped a cape over my shoulders and gently kissed my forehead.
“Write to me,” she said without meeting my eyes.
“Mr. Blackwell, take care of my daughter.” Father shook William’s hand roughly.
“It is my pleasure to do so, sir,” William grinned. Father took my hand, squeezing it as he guided us all to the carriage outside. He assisted me in climbing into the carriage, William right behind after he’d thanked them for everything. No goodbyes, as Mother had said it was not truly goodbye.
The carriage staggered forward and I watched in the window as my family estate grew smaller and smaller in the distance, a part of my heart left within the walls. William remained silent for some time, flipping through a worn journal, the crease between his brows deepening. He began to gnaw on his lip, flipping the pages faster and faster in frustration. I placed my hand on his knee and he jumped back in surprise.
“Forgive me, Rosemary,” he said, rubbing his temples.
“What has you in such a state?” I asked, gazing down at the pages, trying to decipher what they may say. There were notes written in William’s scrawl, messy and sporadic.. He slammed the journal shut, tucking it into his jacket pocket.
“Nothing.”
“William, why can you not be honest with me? We are married now, if for no other reason than that, can you please tell me what it is that troubles you?” I pleaded quietly. “You may find solace in it.”
“We are heading south to Charleston for a while, before we travel home to Boston.” He looked out the window.
“I’m sorry?” I gaped. “Charleston? Now? Why?” I had never been so south before and traveling such a distance pregnant was daunting.
“There is something I need to gather there,” he paused. “For work. A ship will be docking within the next week or so with it. And this trip will allow us time to throw off Noel as I’m sure she suspects we will head straight to the city.”
Doubt sat heavy in my chest for the remainder of the journey. We spoke little, William pondering his journal, furiously scribbling notes and comparing them. My knee bounced furiously, teeming with my unrest.
As I stood on the platform at the train station in Boston after our quiet ride, it struck me that the clerk had been so startled with rushed importance when William gave him our names. The conductor arrived shortly afterward, introducing himself as Mr. Reese. He was a proud middle-aged gentleman, excited to have such a prominent man of the city aboard his luxury liner. I was learning yet again how little I knew of my husband. His reputation seemed to be much larger than I suspected.
“I am sure you will find the cars to your liking, Mr. Blackwell. And you as well, Mrs. Blackwell,” Conductor Reese said, gently kissing my hand in greeting. “We have the newest model of hotel and dining cars on the rails. Spacious, luxurious, clean, and truly a joy to ride in.”
William agreed heartedly, dropping our luggage in front of the young men who were loading several others into another car, pointing to ours ahead in demand. Mr. Reese escorted us to a fine emerald green car marked ‘Pullman.’ It boasted gold trimmings and windows with burgundy curtains all along its side. Reese beckoned enthusiastically.
“Your private cars.”
I gasped. Private? Tickets to the railway had been expensive for a seat, let alone entire cars. William smiled, helping me up the stairs and into the car. Inside the colors were deep and rich. Plush red carpeting, embedded with gold filigree and appearing as though it had never been trampled on.
In the back there was a toilet closet before two beds with curtains enclosing them. It was spacious and comforting. Leading us through the car, Mr. Reese took us out one door and to another, which opened to the dining car. In a similar aesthetic, rich and ostentatious, there were several reclining chairs and mahogany tables. A tea station at the end sat next to a door leading to another car. William turned to the conductor, wrapping his arm around my waist.
“Exquisite. When do we embark?”
“In half an hour, sir. Dinner will be served around noon and supper after sundown. Please settle yourselves in, and I will be back momentarily to ready you for the journey.” With that, he was gone, moving from the car. I walked along the length of the space, taking my gloves off to run my hand along the rich upholstery of the reclining chairs. Such supple texture, that of royalty. My heart burst, surely this was the way kings and queens traveled. William stood behind me, kissing my neck softly.
“What do you think, my love?” he breathed in my ear. I peered toward the open window curtains, at the bustling of people on the platform. Carefully, I removed his hand from my waist, embarrassed.
