Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 1) (12 page)

Chapter Sixteen

    
 
T
he
magnificent Queen Anne stood proudly on the hilltop, her majestic turret piercing the dazzling blue sky. Leaded glass windows glittered brilliantly, each facet reflecting the surrounding white pine and deciduous forest, as if the glorious spectacle existed entirely to frame the regal home.

      With a pentagon shape at the main structure, the sprawling structure featured two side extensions, giving the home a welcoming feeling, as if beckoning with open arms. A porch of turned rails led to a wide, friendly entranceway.

      Each wall was paneled in sections of oak framing, surrounding the vast expanses of windows and enclosed porches. The turret, rising from the structure contained an open landing beneath a lofty roof, topped with a golden spire.

      Deep in the center of the wild and wonderful land that she found herself within, Rebecca approached a home so beautiful and perfect amid open, unspoiled surroundings that it made her feel as if she had always belonged there. For the moment it didn’t matter that it was not her home, only that it beckoned her to share its magnificent, tranquil world.

      Rebecca gasped and held her hands to her throat where she choked back a lump as she rose unconsciously from the buckboard’s seat. Mark and Timothy turned to her proudly, pleased that she found the home as beautiful as they thought it was.

      Timothy watched the girl, the reflection of his beloved home in her deep emerald eyes and the expression of recognition on her delicate face. He knew that she understood what he had done, that she saw the home the way he had always envisioned it should be seen.

      “Welcome to Stavewood, Rebecca.” Timothy Elgerson swallowed hard.

      Rebecca looked down at the boy smiling and then locked eyes with Timothy, her own eyes glistening with tears, and she squeezed the boy’s hand.

      “Oh, Tim,” she whispered across to him. “This is the home you built?”

      Rebecca was sure she was in a dream, sure that they would ride past the beautiful stately building on route to their log cabin, but the beaming smiles of the two beside her showed such pride, that now she understood why Mark had been so anxious to return and why Timothy’s heart broke every time he visited the home he had constructed for his lost wife.

      Rebecca knew that the sight of the beautiful home would remain in her memory until her dying day and she clung to the bouncing bench as Timothy kicked the horses to a soft trot.

      Standing behind the home were magnificent towering stave oaks and stands of soaring Norway pine. The wide lawn extended rich and green. A massive sprawling oak stood tall and strong, spreading its leafy branches across the yard.

      Timothy pulled the buckboard along the side of the house towards the pantry entrance, and fought hard to swallow the lump in his throat. Still fighting the emotions of being near the home he was now overcome with Rebecca’s reaction. She looked at him and understood his pain. Timothy Elgerson pulled the buggy to a stop in the large drive and circled around to lift Rebecca from her seat.

      Mark was so glad to be home he had bounded across Rebecca’s lap before the vehicle had reached a full stop and ran through the large double back doors of his home, announcing his arrival loudly.

      Timothy lifted Rebecca lightly from the bench, not even considering how inappropriate his grasp of her might be and, as he set her to stand in the driveway, she thanked him demurely and looked once again with understanding, deep into his warm brown eyes.

      Feigning concern over how much there was to carry into the house, she broke off by asking if he would need any assistance unloading the buggy.

      “No, Ma’am,” he took her by the elbow cautiously. “I think it would be best to introduce you to my household. The men will unload the cart.”

      Suddenly aware of her strange apparel, she adjusted her cap slightly, thinking better about removing it, tugged at her jacket in a gentlemanly manner and cleared her throat.

      “I’m ready,” she announced firmly.

      Timothy chuckled and led the petite girl into his home.

      The kitchen was in chaos and Timothy was instantly assaulted by a rotund and frantic cook, two gentlemen who Rebecca thought might be butlers, and several young girls in starched, white aprons. Mark was hugging the cook and grinning broadly and, although the woman was obviously quite distracted, she held her arm about his shoulder in an affectionate manner while firing objections at Timothy feverishly.

      Overwhelmed by the onslaught, the girl tried to listen and understand the complaints, which seemed to be focused on Miss Octavia’s menu choices and the gathering being only hours away. Timothy turned briskly and headed back out to the buggy. He crossed the yard and headed for the stables and the cook turned to Rebecca expectantly.

      Mark jumped in, introducing Rebecca excitedly to the staff. “I found her all tied up in a shack by the cabin and she’s been living at the cabin and she can cook and read really well and…”

      Elgerson’s head cook peered at Rebecca suspiciously, certain that the girl was older than she looked in the strange clothing.

      “Very nice to meet you, Miss. Welcome to Stavewood,” the younger of the two butlers bowed slightly.

    “Thank you, sir,” the young woman replied properly, appreciating the man’s fine manners.

      “Please excuse us, Miss,” the stout head cook apologized. Once hearing Rebecca’s manner of speaking she was certain there was much more to the young lady than met the eye.

      “In all the commotion we have completely forgotten our manners. I am Birget, head cook and this is Gebhard…”

      Rebecca nodded at each of the staff in the kitchen, certain she would need more than one meeting to memorize all of the names. Although numbering more, by several, than the staff once kept by her family, it was obvious they were facing a crisis and Rebecca inquired as to what the commotion had been about.

      “Miss Octavia is throwing this party tonight and has provided us with a very bad menu. I can’t see how she expects us to entertain so many guests with this!” The cook pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her large apron and handed it to the young woman. Scrawled on the sheet were a strange list of what Rebecca supposed were ingredients. She peered at the paper, puzzled.

      “This is the menu?” she asked of the cook.

      “I don’t know what it is, but I do know we are hours away from a house full of people with no menu at all!” The anxious cook wrung her hands frantically.

      “Well, it’s apparent that you cannot possibly work from that!” Rebecca handed the paper back to the woman. “I suppose we’ll have to provide a menu of our own. If you wouldn’t mind terribly, perhaps I could help?”

      Birget nodded eagerly. “If you can plan a menu. Yes!”

      Rebecca instructed the cook that she would need to see the pantries and assess the contents of the larder and perhaps the wines.

      Requesting paper to make notes and complete a list, Rebecca planned the evening’s menu, discussing the number of people expected and how the food would be served and presented. She found the cook attentive and capable and in a short time the two women returned from the pantries with an arrangement.

      Mark gave her a brief tour of the public areas of the home, while Rebecca made suggestions for arranging the food tables to the butler and his assistants. Rebecca wished she had time to tour the magnificent home with fewer distractions.

      She fell easily into instructing the staff amid the chaos. Having been brought up in an affluent household arranging a large gathering fell comfortably into the skills that she possessed. She delegated tasks without hesitation and her natural command in the midst of the disorder was readily accepted and appreciated by the overwhelmed employees.

      When Timothy returned from unloading the buggy he sent two maids upstairs with armloads of wrapped bundles. He found his kitchen buzzing with organized activity, and left for a quick ride to the sheriff’s home. Content and relieved that the household had somehow overcome whatever their emergency was, the big man felt free to continue his errands.

      He never saw Rebecca and wondered where she had gotten to, assuming she had found a place to make herself scarce while she waited for him to send up her packages of clothing. He returned to the house, instructed one of the maids to prepare a room for the girl and help her in whatever she needed and rode out.

      Rebecca had discarded her cap and piled her hair onto her head. Then, donning an apron, she stood in the corner of the colossal kitchen instructing the cook which herbs she’d like used to crust the rack of lamb for part of the main course. She saw Timothy come into the kitchen twice, speak briefly to the maids and leave quickly, relieved that he did not see her with her hair disheveled and covered in the herb rub.

      The counters of the gleaming kitchen soon were filled with steaming tureens of wild boar soup and platters of smoked trout. Crisped onions encircled the cold goose liver platter and the crusted rack of lamb was roasting nicely amid mounds of golden potatoes.

      For dessert, Rebecca had instructed the cook to prepare a chestnut mousse with a rum scented chocolate sauce. The two women readily exchanged ideas and experience openly, while discussing how to best prepare and present each dish.

      Although many of the foods were unusual to Rebecca, she reasoned that taking a basic approach and combining it with her knowledge and love of cooking, each recipe should be enjoyable to the guests. Refined by the accomplished experience and suggestions of Birget, the menu was varied and generous, and Rebecca was pleased with their combined planning.

Chapter Seventeen

    
 
B
y shortly past six, the prepared food began to emerge from huge ovens, filling the house with an appetizing aroma. The staff buzzed with excitement, proud in their accomplishments and Rebecca went to check on Mark and the butler’s arrangement of the long serving tables. The boy had convinced the men to pull out the decorations the family had kept stored and they had adorned the stairway and overhead chandeliers with garlands and ribbons. She set the two young maids to laying out the delicate lace table linens she discovered in the butler’s pantry and asked Mark where she might find a place to clean up.

      Mark led her up the grand oak staircase to a cozy room upstairs, saying it was hers and leaving the girl to dress for the party.

      Rebecca surveyed the lovely room, its rich woodwork and enclosed fireplace radiating warmth into the surroundings. The setting sun cast soft, filtered light through the lace curtains and Rebecca admired the fine, solid furniture and thickly padded carpets. Piled on the bed was a generous collection of carefully wrapped parcels and boxes, one of which the young woman hoped was her gown for the evening. She began to carefully inspect the contents of the packages. The smaller of the packages was filled with the finest lingerie, lace-trimmed camisoles and fine, silk stockings. There were corsets and petticoats of delicate, rustling silk. Larger bundles contained gowns and day dresses, delicate footwear emerged from boxes as well as a deliciously feathered bonnet. Rebecca was overcome with the beauty, quality and amount of clothing.

      It was apparent from his generosity that Timothy was a very successful man, but she had never expected, or was sure she even wanted such an extravagant collection of clothing. When she opened the largest of the bundles Rebecca gasped in awe. The emerald gown was the finest piece she had ever seen.

      With mutton sleeves at the upper arms and a fitted bodice that dipped at the waist in a deep point to a full gathered skirt, the fine velvet shimmered in the sunlight. The bodice was embroidered with a gentle, raised leaf pattern, as were the lower, fitted sections of the sleeves. A deeper, emerald braiding adorned the edges of the sleeves and trimmed the neckline, which was cut to curve gently across the bust. Braiding secured the bodice in a crisscross of lacing, parting slightly to reveal a slim opening. The heavy fabric was draped luxuriously across the bed as Rebecca laid out the dress, overcome with emotion.

      A soft tapping at the door pulled her away from the overwhelming collection and she opened it to find a young girl in a smart, black uniform.

      “Pardon me, Miss,” the girl bowed slightly, a bit surprised at Rebecca’s appearance. “I’ve been instructed to help you dress.”

      Rebecca was thrilled to hear the girl’s gracious offer, and was thrilled for a female’s assistance. She quickly beckoned the girl into the room.

      “Hello!” Rebecca took her hand excitedly. “How relieved I am to have your help!”

      Rebecca showed the girl the beautiful garments and the young maid helped her by running a bath and gathering the articles Rebecca would require for her preparation. She left briefly but returned with a hairbrush, hairpins, and colognes. She hung the gowns in the large wardrobe and filled the drawers of the bureau with lingerie, while Rebecca languished in the generous bath.

      When Rebecca had finished her bath, the young maid brushed out her hair and deftly arranged it in a soft twist, fashioned high against Rebecca’s head. The girl had gathered flowers from a centerpiece while collecting the bath articles and suggested that the delicate leaves and tiny, white flowers might adorn Rebecca’s hair nicely. She wove the stems in stylishly, the soft flowers beautifully contrasting with Rebecca’s dark, sable hair.

      Rebecca slipped into the sheer undergarments and tried to ignore the continuing ache in her side while the maid laced her corset.

      As she fashioned the back of Rebecca’s gown the young woman gasped.

      “Oh, Miss! How beautiful you look!”

      Rebecca studied her reflection in the tall mirror, astounded by her own image. Helping the boy at the cabin had given her a healthy appetite, and hearty meals had filled out her figure. Her bust swelled against the well-fitted bodice provocatively, the narrow opening of the lacing divulging an enticing view of her cleavage. Her slim waist, encased securely in her corset, set off her softly rounded hips, the full gathering of the skirt accentuating her curved derriere. Clear skies and bright sunlight had given her complexion a warm blush and her hair, sleek and shining encircled her delicate features elegantly and softly swept across her forehead, entirely concealing her fading scar.

      Rebecca took a deep breath, suddenly apprehensive over the large group of people expected to attend the gathering. Although sure that her appearance was more than acceptable, and actually quite pleasing to her, she knew that someone would inquire as to her  identity and she worried over how believable her story would be.

      The young maid excused herself, complimenting Rebecca profusely and assuring her that she would be the most beautiful woman at the party. Rebecca took one last look at herself in the tall mirror, placing a touch of the delicious, lavender cologne behind each ear, before going downstairs to make a final check on the dinner preparations.

      The delicate, new slippers on her slender feet were a drastic change from the heavy boots she had become accustomed to and she tiptoed along the hall carefully. Stepping onto the first step on the long staircase, she descended with care, familiarizing herself with the dainty footwear. Rebecca looked up as the front door opened abruptly and Timothy burst into the foyer hurriedly.

      Timothy Elgerson stopped briskly in his rush to dress at the late hour and stared, astonished, at Rebecca on the stairs. At first he did not recognize the stunning woman. This vision he thought, must be a guest that had arrived early. He was sure he had never laid eyes on her before, but then, as Rebecca stepped closer and he met her eyes, they filled with warmth and appreciation. In a rush of recognition he froze.

      Rebecca’s emerald eyes locked with his own, her look tentative and engaging, and he saw a transformation he found unbelievable. Her astounding beauty unsettled him as his mind raced with a rush of memories of his dealings with the girl. Rebecca was most definitely no child and, as she stood before him eye to eye near the bottom of the steps, Timothy felt his heart pounding in his chest.

      The deep green of her familiar stare penetrated his and he examined the girl slowly, drinking in the view of her. Her slender outline stood in anticipation before him, her full breasts rising and falling slowly as Rebecca tensely awaited a reaction from the man. Compelled to approach her and react impulsively to his overwhelming desire to take her into his arms, Elgerson cleared his throat hoarsely and attempted to gather his senses.

      “Rebecca,” was the only word that escaped his lips.

      “Timothy, how can I possibly thank you? The gown, everything… it is all so beautiful!” Her smile was warm and genuine as she stood anxiously, studying his face openly.

      Birget bounded from the doorway in search of Rebecca and stood between the two of them looking appreciatively at the young woman.

      “Why Miss, you look most beautiful!” she grinned.

      Elgerson pulled his hat from his head, twisting the brim in his big hands with a slow nod.

      “You had better change, sir,” the ample-bodied cook suggested. “The guests will be arriving shortly and you’ll need to dress!” She chuckled. “We can’t go about the place looking like that with the young Miss being so beautiful, now can we?” She toddled off, smiling to herself and returning to her bustling kitchen.

      “Rebecca, you look very beautiful, very beautiful indeed,” Timothy blushed. He walked slowly past the girl and ascended the steps briskly.

      Rebecca puzzled at the man’s reaction, uncertain about the stunned look upon his face. She wanted to thank him profusely, but didn’t seem to be able to find the right words. She felt that she must find a way to thank him for his generosity. She turned towards the dining room vowing to find the means to show him.

      Timothy rushed into his room and threw his hat and duster onto the chair. He hurried through a bath, lathering his thick hair briskly and then combing it smoothly down against his head. He contemplated trimming back his beard, noticing that it had become more unruly than he had realized and then decided a full shave might be more appropriate. He cut into the mass with sharp scissors and began to lather up his chin.

      Mark called from the doorway and, once beckoned into the room, was thrilled to find the man preparing to shave. He thought better about bringing up the fact that he had not seen his father clean shaven since his mother’s death, choosing instead to ask if his choice of clothing was appropriate and how late he may be allowed to remain at the party.

      Timothy accepted that the boy could stay up much later this time than the normal hour and sent Mark downstairs to keep an eye out for Octavia.

      Elgerson finished trimming his remaining moustache and chose a fitted, black velvet jacket over a silk shirt with a crisp, high collar. His dark slacks fit his narrow waist fashionably and he set aside his high stacked boots for a low, black leather dress shoe. He rummaged through his drawer impatiently for the wide black ribbon he once used to contain his long mass of hair, as he heard the guests beginning to arrive. He tied up his hair quickly and checked his appearance in the mirror, surprised at how much younger his shaven face appeared, and how thin he had become since last taking time to study his own reflection.

      Satisfied with the transformation, he headed down the hall to begin greeting his guests. He listened to the voices in the foyer, but did not hear that of Octavia and wondered where the woman could be.