Daughter of the Loom (Bells of Lowell Book #1) (16 page)

Chapter 11

Matthew bounded up the steps to the Cheevers’ front porch. He had left work an hour early, so his mother would undoubtedly be surprised at his arrival. The thought pleased him. After all, he had promised to come to dinner on Sunday, but that visit would be bound by duty rather than choice. Arriving unexpectedly at a time when the two of them could relax and enjoy their time together would be like old times, he decided.

Entering the front door, he called out, “Mother, where are you?”

“You needn’t yell. I’m right here,” Julia replied. She was seated in her tapestry-covered sewing rocker, her fingers deftly pushing and pulling a thread-laden needle in and out of a delicate piece of embroidery.

Matthew smiled, walked to where she sat, and kissed her cheek. “You don’t act surprised to see me,” he remarked, seating himself opposite her chair.

“You forget I have a clear view of the front street. I saw you coming long before you reached the door. I’ve even had several moments to contemplate why my son would be paying me an unexpected visit.”

There was a lilt to her voice. She no doubt already suspected why he had come. He might succeed in fooling himself but never his mother. She continued her sewing while he settled into the chair, contemplating his reply. Should he come right out with it, or should he attempt to convince her there was no ulterior reason for his visit? Matthew settled into the chair, elongating his body as far as possible, then propped his feet on the matching footstool.

“Do sit up correctly, Matthew. You’re going to crush your tailbone or pinch a nerve in your back sitting in that ungentlemanly position. You’re just borrowing future medical problems when you don’t use proper posture. Ask Dr. Barnard. He’ll confirm the truth of what I’m telling you.”

“I don’t want to talk to Dr. Barnard about crushed tailbones or pinched nerves, Mother. I’ve come to hear all about your supper party,” he said.

“Truly? That’s a bit odd, since you generally tell me that all supper gatherings are dull and unimaginative.” She gave him a wry grin before continuing. “Well, it goes without saying that the meal was delightful. I served the most delectable lobster bisque, and the mutton was beyond description—so tender it nearly melted in my mouth. And then there were baby peas with caramelized onions and parsleyed potatoes. Oh yes, and cherries jubilee, one of your favorite desserts. See what you missed? Positively a gastronomical delight, as your father would say,” Julia gloated.

Matthew watched his mother’s animated face as she delightedly recounted the details of each culinary offering. He remained patient as she explained the placement of her centerpiece and stemware, knowing she was baiting him to interrupt her once again. He would not. She would only prolong the agony by detailing each of the gowns worn by her female guests, or worse yet, the details of some latest piece of stitchery the women had discussed in the music room.

He pushed his chair back onto its rear legs and then quickly let it back down when his mother snapped her fingers. Obviously his mother was going to force him to ask questions. Perhaps if he told her about his trip to Boston, she would give him the information he truly sought. Might as well wade in and test the waters, he decided. “I had an interesting time in Boston. Mr. Boott and I met with the bishop and then had supper with some of Boott’s relatives. His niece, Isabelle, joined us for supper. She’s quite lovely. Boott seems to think she’d be a good match for me.” He hesitated only a moment and then added, “I trust you enjoyed delightful conversation during supper?”

Too late he realized he had said more than his mother could tolerate. Mentioning Isabelle was a mistake. Julia’s posture had turned rigid at the remark. She appeared ready to do battle as she placed her sewing in the basket beside her chair and turned to give him her full attention.

“So Kirk Boott has entered the matchmaking business? Well, you can give him a message from your mother. Tell him that when we find ourselves in need of a matchmaker’s assistance, I will personally come calling.”

“Now, Mother, don’t get upset. He knows I’m not seeing anyone at the moment and made a casual suggestion. I’m certainly not obligated to call upon his niece in order to maintain my position with the Corporation.”

She leveled a stare directly toward him. “Are you
absolutely
sure about that?”

“Preposterous! How could you even think such nonsense?”

Julia stood up and stared into the mirror above the mantel. Pulling a small decorative comb from her hair, she tugged at several strands before tucking the comb back into her coif. She turned and looked down at her son. “Matthew, you would be surprised at how cunning people can be. Don’t deceive yourself. You would make a fine catch for Boott’s niece—a nice addition to his family, and having you as a member of the family could do nothing but help his cause as he ascends upward in the Corporation. You could be the son he never had. I’m sure he wishes his daughter were old enough to marry; then he could truly take you on as a son. Don’t you see what he’ll do?”

“I’m sorry I mentioned the supper. And that’s all it was, Mother—supper.”

Julia’s lips turned upward in a sardonic smile. “You think that’s all it was? Just remember that I’ve warned you. His niece will soon appear in Lowell, and you will be expected to be her escort. Mark my words.”

“I was hoping for a pleasant afternoon of visiting, Mother. Would it be possible to change the subject? I’d wager the women were begging to know the secret ingredients for your cherries jubilee.”

Julia picked up her embroidery and once again began to stitch. “The supper party was delightful, and lest you think you’ve succeeded in changing the subject without my realization, be aware that I know what you’re doing.”

Matthew responded with a hearty laugh. “Yes, Mother, I’m well aware that we’ll not change topics unless you choose to do so.” He took a deep breath before proceeding. “Did all of your guests attend?”

She graced him with a demure smile. “All except you. Why don’t you ask what you really want to know, Matthew?”

He shook his head in resignation. “All right, Mother. Did Lilly attend?”

Julia nodded in satisfaction. “I knew that was why you came to visit. Yes, Lilly attended and she looked stunning. I dare say, that girl becomes more beautiful with each passing minute. She inherited both her mother’s charm and her father’s intelligence. You let a good thing slip away, Matthew. In my heart, however, I do believe you could win her back if you would set your mind to the task.”

Matthew tugged at his collar as he rose from his chair. He didn’t want to speak in haste. No need to intentionally become the target of his mother’s ire. He would speak calmly, rationally. He cleared his throat and turned. “Please try to remember, Mother, that it was Lilly who terminated our relationship. As you may recall, I was planning to ask Mr. Armbruster for Lilly’s hand when she became consumed with anger regarding the Boston Associates purchasing the farmland.”

Julia waved her lace handkerchief in his direction. “Don’t make excuses, Matthew.”

“I’m not making excuses. I’m reminding you of what occurred. Lilly said she wouldn’t consider continuing our relationship unless I promised to remain a farmer and disengage myself from the Boston Associates.”

His mother shrugged her shoulders. “Did you even consider her wishes?”

Matthew stared at her in disbelief. His mother was talking utter nonsense, yet he dared not confront her with such a remark. “You realize we are discussing the choice I made for my life’s work? Lilly wanted me to bend to her will. Think about what a precedent that would have set for our married life. I didn’t want to begin married life having my wife dictate my professional choices. Think how Father would have rebuffed such an idea when you two were contemplating marriage. What if you had told him you wouldn’t marry him unless he gave up farming and became a banker? I think he would have reconsidered marriage. Even God’s word substantiates my position—a wife is to be subject to her husband.”

“Don’t begin quoting the Bible to me, Matthew, for it also says a man will love his wife above himself. Lilly is a fine girl. Your Mr. Boott will find none that will even begin to compare. You can’t imagine the sorrow I felt for that child, knowing she’s lost every member of her family, and now she’s relegated to working in the mills.”

“She’s working at the mills?” he asked without thinking.

His mother gave a self-satisfied smile. “Yes. Poor child. There was nothing left to do.”

Matthew tried to compose himself. He didn’t want the matter to get out of hand any more than it already had. “You exaggerate, Mother. Lilly has not lost every member of her family. Lewis is still alive, and if she’s working in the mills . . . well, it’s because she chose to work in the mills. I didn’t force her to take a position in the mills. And please don’t forget the fact that there are girls who come from all over the countryside, anxious for such an opportunity.”

“Don’t even mention Lewis Armbruster in the same breath with his sister. Lewis was a mean child, and he’s grown into a despicable man. I’m told he left Lilly penniless, gambling away all of the family’s money. It would have been better for Lilly had she been left without Lewis. He’s served only to make her life more miserable. As for working in the mills, we both know how distasteful that must be for Lilly.”

“I agree Lewis is a poor excuse for a brother. He is, however, a living member of Lilly’s family. And although Lilly may find working in the mills distasteful, it was apparently her choice to seek employment with the Associates. I might also remind you that Lilly is no stranger to physical labor. She grew up working on the family farm, which is certainly more taxing than operating machinery in the mills.”

His mother was looking past him, staring out the front window toward the dusk-filled skies, a smile beginning to form upon her lips. He would say nothing further. Obviously he had made his point.

“I believe your father is home,” Julia remarked, the front door opening as she spoke.

“Look who I’ve brought home for supper, Julia,” Randolph called out from the entryway. His broad smile faded, however, as he walked into the room with Lilly. “Son, I didn’t realize you would be . . .” His voice faltered as he looked toward Julia, obviously hoping she would rescue him.

Julia rushed toward Lilly, pulling her into a warm embrace. “What a delightful surprise—two of my favorite people for supper. Let me take your cape, dear.”

Matthew watched in awe as his mother released Lilly, unfastened her cape, and removed it from the girl’s shoulders before there was time for any objection. It was difficult to ascertain whether Lilly was angry or merely perplexed to find herself in his presence. He watched the color rise in her cheeks as she reached for her cape.

“I told Mr. Cheever I should go back to the boardinghouse, but he insisted. I really must be leaving,” Lilly said.

“Nonsense. Of course you’ll stay. Supper will be ready in no time at all. Let me go see how things are progressing,” Julia stated while moving toward the kitchen. “Randolph, you bar the door if she attempts to escape.”

Matthew stood transfixed. His mother was right. Lilly appeared to grow more beautiful each time he set eyes upon her. He struggled for a moment to gain his voice. “Don’t leave on my account, Lilly. I’ll go,” Matthew croaked, his voice suddenly foreign to his ears.

Julia whirled about. “Nobody is going anywhere. We are going to have supper—all of us—together, like the civilized people we are. Now sit down and visit while I see about the preparations,” she commanded.

Julia marched out of the room as they seated themselves. Lilly folded her hands and stared at the floor; Matthew leaned back and cupped his folded hands around his knee. Randolph pulled his pipe from his pocket, tapping it gently in his hand. Silence reigned.

“How was your trip to Boston, Matthew?” Randolph finally asked.

“It went very well. Thank you for asking, Father. How was your day, Lilly?” Matthew ventured.

“Hot and tiresome,” she replied without looking up.

“Hot? I’ve been in Lowell all day and the weather has been beautiful. Where have you been that you consider it so hot?”

“In the Appleton Mill, where the windows are nailed down. Unlike you, I didn’t have the opportunity to walk about town enjoying the beauty of the day. You should pay a visit to one of the weaving or spinning rooms. Perhaps then you would understand my reply,” Lilly stated, her gaze now riveted in his direction.

“Supper is ready,” Julia announced, a bright smile on her face as she came back into the room. “I can’t begin to tell you what a joy it is to have servants preparing meals, Lilly. It is such a change for me. Come along now and tell me what you three have been discussing.”

****

As the evening wore on, it seemed that Matthew irritated Lilly at every turn. It wasn’t his intent. In fact, he had valiantly endeavored to find neutral topics of discussion throughout supper. However, with each attempt, the conversation returned to the mills and Lilly’s discontent. To his amazement, Julia appeared to navigate the conversation toward Lilly’s circumstances at every opportunity.

“Matthew!”

Julia’s voice brought him back to the present. “Yes?”

“Lilly must return to the boardinghouse. I’ve insisted you escort her. Of course, she objected, but I told her I would brook no argument—from either of you. Hurry. She’s in the hallway with your father,” Julia insisted in a hoarse whisper.

He met his mother’s steely stare. There was no use arguing, for it would only result in additional embarrassment for all of them. “Ready?” he inquired, nearing the front hallway.

Lilly nodded in his direction. It appeared, however, that Julia was intent on prolonging the farewell. Matthew waited patiently as Julia hugged Lilly several times while attempting to elicit the girl’s promise to return soon. He noted Lilly’s careful choice of words as she sidestepped the issue and made her way down the front steps.

“Mother hasn’t lost her knack for manipulating people’s lives,” Matthew remarked as they walked down the street.