Hyacinth (Suitors of Seattle) (11 page)

Chapter Eight

Women love it when men cook for them, because it shows men think of them as more than just cooks.  So if you are trying to court a woman, fix her a special meal and take her on a picnic.  Don't take 'no' for an answer.  Women love forceful men.  Show her that you think of her comfort.  Make her feel like a queen as you feed her and court her.  Make this a truly special occasion for her.  William Livingston, Advice Column to Lonely Men published in The Seattle Times, January nineteenth, 1897.

Lawrence grinned, leaning against the doorjamb.  "I came to take you on a picnic."  He caught Hyacinth's hand, playfully trying to pull her out the door toward him.

"It's too cold outside for a picnic.  Come back in April or May."  Hyacinth shook her head at him, half laughing.  What was wrong with the man?  He had the strangest ideas.

"I cooked all morning so I could take you on a picnic today.  Put on your coat.  You'll be fine."  He was going to take her on a picnic if it killed them both.  William Livingston had said not to take 'no' for an answer...so he wouldn't.

She couldn't believe he would insist on her going out in the cold.  The man was certainly an odd duck...but only on Tuesdays.  Why was he like that on Tuesdays?  "I really don't think that's a good idea.  We could have a picnic in my parlor if that would make you feel better."
  She really didn't want to have a picnic in front of her mother, but she knew she would never be allowed to go to Lawrence's house and could think of no other warm, dry place.

He sighed.  Raising his voice, he called, "I'm taking Hyacinth out for a while, Mrs. Sullivan.  Is that all right with you?"

Mary came around the corner and nodded, smiling at Hyacinth.  "I think that's just fine."

Hyacinth knew her mother had gotten a good report from John Higgins about Lawrence, but that didn't mean he wasn't insane.  He had an illness that only came out on Tuesdays apparently.
  Why did her mother always agree with his odd schemes?  "But, Mama, he wants to take me on a picnic, and it's cold!"  Surely her mother would agree with her that it was too cold for a picnic. She wouldn't want her to become ill.

Mary frowned.  "It really is too cold to sit outside and eat a picnic, Lawrence."

Lawrence sighed.  He'd wanted to propose during this picnic.  "Could I have a picnic with her in my parlor?"  He knew she'd probably say 'no,' but he really wanted to do the picnic now, not in a few months when it was warmer.  And he did
not
want an audience.

Mary thought about that for a moment before slowly shaking her head.  "I'm afraid not.  I don't want her alone with you in your home."

"We wouldn't be alone.  My house is always filled with servants."  He hoped that would be enough for her.  He doubted it, but he was grasping at straws.

"That's not enough of a chaperone, and you know it." Mary shook her head.  "You could use the parlor here."

Lawrence wasn't about to have a picnic in the Sullivans' parlor where anyone could walk in during the middle of it.  "How about if we go to the library and ask Amaryllis if we can use one of the back rooms?  We'll leave the door cracked, but it will be like we're having a picnic all alone."  They wouldn't be too cold, but they would have privacy. 

Mary considered that for a moment.  "I think that's perfectly acceptable."
 

Hyacinth frowned.  "What if I don't want to go on a picnic, Mama?"  Why did everyone seem to think they could make her decisions for her?  She was an adult now, and she could make at least some decisions for herself, couldn't she?

"Nonsense.  You love picnics."  Mary waved her hand and shooed the young couple off.

Lawrence helped Hyacinth, who was still frowning, with her coat.  "Will I ever get to make a decision about what I want to do?"
she asked, her tone grumbling.

Lawrence laughed.  "If you marry me, I'll let you make all the decisions about what we're going to eat."

Hyacinth didn't think that comment was worth responding to.  She followed him out to the buggy, and he helped her up.  She was starting to become suspicious of his Tuesday habits.  "Where did you get the idea for a picnic?" she asked.  Something strange was going on, and she wasn't at all sure it had to do with mental illness.

He shrugged.  "I got some really good advice."
  It was none of her business that he was reading an advice column.

"You need to introduce me to this friend who keeps giving you advice.  I'm dying to meet him."
  She knew he had no friends in Seattle other than her and her family.  So who was giving him advice?

"Maybe someday."

He drove slowly through the streets to the library.  "Wait here.  I'm going to run in and make sure it's all right with Amaryllis that we use the back room."  Hurrying into the library, he stopped at the front desk where Amaryllis was eating her lunch.  "I have a favor to ask."

Amaryllis nodded, setting down her apple.  "What's the favor?"

"I'd like to use your back room for a picnic with Hyacinth.  Would that be all right?"  He didn't add that he had a ring burning a hole in his pocket, and he was planning on proposing during the picnic.  Hyacinth should be the first to know that, not her sister.

Amaryllis shrugged, nodding.  "Sure.  Just make sure to keep your voices down, not that I ever have a problem with you two."

"Thanks, Rilly!"  He rushed back out the door and helped Hyacinth down from the buggy, before grabbing the picnic basket and heading back inside with Hyacinth holding his arm.

He rushed into the back room and pushed aside the boxes of books that had yet to be shelved.  Spreading the quilt he'd brought, he put the picnic basket in the center, and then held her hand as she sat down, arranging her skirts around her.  "This is the first time I've cooked chicken, so I hope it's good."

He pulled two plates from the basket and put what seemed to be fried chicken on each plate along with a helping of mashed potatoes, all cold of course.

Hyacinth looked down at the food and wondered if it was safe to eat.  You never could tell what the man was going to do when he was trying to be romantic.  "Is there anything to drink?" she asked, wanting to know she'd have something to wash the food down with if it tasted horrible.

He nodded, pulling out two glasses and a jar of water.  "I don't know how to make lemonade, so I just brought some water.  Is that all right?"  He knew she liked water, but he wasn't certain if she'd be happy with it as picnic fare.

She nodded, taking one of the glasses and holding it out while he poured the water into it.  She took a piece of the breading off of the chicken to taste it, and it wasn't terrible, so she bit into the whole piece.  When she pulled it away from her mouth, she saw that the chicken was still pink in the middle.  "Stop!" she told him, spitting the food out onto her plate as gracefully as possible.  "The chicken isn't cooked on the inside.  It might make us sick."
  She was glad she'd spotted the problem before she swallowed the piece.

He frowned, frustrated.  He couldn't seem to follow instructions at all.  "I'm sorry.  I did make some jam sandwiches in case the chicken wasn't good."  He reached into the basket again and pulled out some sandwiches wrapped in brown paper. "See if this is any better."

She opened the paper and took a bite of the sandwich.  She sighed happily.  "That's much better."  She looked down at the mashed potatoes that were lumpy and a bit gray.  She was almost afraid to taste them, but she didn't want to hurt his feelings.  She took a small taste of the potatoes.  Not worth eating, but she didn't tell him that.

Lawrence took a bite of mashed potato and almost spit it out.  Who could mess up mashed potatoes?  He sighed.  He wanted his proposal to be perfect, so obviously it wouldn't do to propose over this picnic.  Everything about it was far from perfect, and it just wouldn't do for his Hyacinth.

They talked softly while they ate.  She asked some questions about the Indian tribe she knew he'd visited the day before.  "Are you going to use them in the book you're writing?"

He shook his head.  "Not this one.  This story is more about a pioneer family and the trials they face.  No, in my next book, I'm going to use the tribe.  I'm working on plotting that one out as I write this one.  I think I'm going to have the Indian tribe find a baby who was left all alone.  They raise it, but it's a white child, so when it's grown, they send him back to live with the white people.  I want to talk about the white world from the perspective of the Indians."

Hyacinth smiled.  "That sounds fascinating.  I can't wait to read it."  She put down her sandwich and took a sip of water.  "How did you research the book you're writing?"  She loved that he had the freedom to travel where he wanted for his research.  She wouldn't have that any time soon, because her mother was so overprotective.  She could just envision introducing herself as a writer, and then having to introduce her mother who would be staying with her.

"I spent a year living with a family in North Dakota.  I went to work with the father frequently, and sometimes I stayed with the mother and watched how she worked around the home.  I have pages and pages of notes on how she managed.  It was a good learning experience for me.  I grew up with almost no money, so I understood that aspect of it, but they not only had no money, they had no way of buying the conveniences we have in the city
even when they did have money from time to time.  There aren't as many conveniences in Seattle as there were in New York, of course, but there are a great deal more than they had out on the prairie."

"That sounds really interesting."  She frowned.  "I wish I could get that deeply into research for one of my books, but Mama would never allow it.  She can't stand even having Jasmine and D
aisy living in 'poor conditions' in the country the way they do.  She thinks we should all live close to home, preferably on the same street, so she can watch over us."

He laughed.  "Well, if you marry me, you won't be on the same street, but at least you'll stay in Seattle.  That'll make her happy, right?"
 

She nodded.  "Happier than she is with my sisters at least." 
She eyed Lawrence across the picnic blanket.  "I sometimes wish I'd been born a man so I could have the kind of freedom you have to do the things you need to do to research your books."

Lawrence choked on his water.  "I'm very happy you weren't born a man."  He moved toward her on the blanket, cupping her face in his hands.  "If you were a man, I couldn't do this."  He lowered his mouth to hers, catching her sigh of pleasure with his lips. 

Hyacinth wrapped her arms around him, feeling the familiar tingling sensation shooting through her body where he touched her.  She opened her mouth for his kiss and stroked his shoulders, loving being so close to him.

Lawrence moved his hand down her shoulder and across her arm, trailing his fingers over her dress.  His hand moved over her waist, and he could feel her corset through the fabric.  His hand moved up over the corset to cup her breast in his palm.

Hyacinth let out a gasp of pleasure and astonishment, arching into his hand.  She knew she shouldn't let him touch her that way, but it felt so good. 

When Hyacinth didn't protest his touch, Lawrence carefully lowered her onto her back on the blanket and loomed over her, staring down into her brown eyes.  Her looks were so different than her sisters, but he was so attracted to her. 
He couldn't imagine a girl who would suit him better than Hyacinth.  "You are truly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

Hyacinth blushed.  "You look at me through different eyes than everyone else does then."

"They're all blind," he murmured as he pressed his lips to hers again.  This time his kiss was more aggressive, his tongue firmly staking its claim.  His hands roamed up and down her sides, exploring her body through her dress.  One of his legs moved between hers and he pressed his knee into the notch between her legs.

Hyacinth clung to his shoulders at first, but slowly felt more at ease, and she roamed her hands over his back.  How could this be the same man who went crazy once per week?

She stopped, startled when she heard a loud throat clearing, pushing Lawrence away.  Amaryllis stood in the doorway with one eyebrow raised.  "I don't think this is the time
or
the place."

Lawrence rolled off of Hyacinth, turning his back to both the sisters and facing the wall as he got his emotions and passions under control.  His breathing was uneven as he fought to control himself.  Of all the people who could have caught them, he was glad it was Amaryllis, but he was still mortified.

Hyacinth sat up, looking over at Lawrence with his back to her.  Was he ashamed of her?  She blushed, pulling her knees close and resting her face between them. 

When neither of them said anything, Amaryllis shook her head.  "I'm just going to leave this door wide open for the rest of your picnic." 

As soon as Amaryllis left, Hyacinth sprang into action, putting away the rest of the food from their lunch and rushing to put everything back to rights.  She didn't know how she'd ever face her sister or Lawrence again.  What had they been thinking, rolling around on the floor in the library that way?  She knew the answer for her of course.  She hadn't been thinking.  Her mind flew away every time he touched her.