The Potter's Lady (23 page)

“Aye.” Rylan said. “There’s no doubt your brother is smart and could do most anything in the office without my help, but if I can make it easier for him, then I wish to do so.”

Moments later, the train chugged and hissed into the station, and the three of them boarded without further comment. Mrs. Woodfield chose seats that faced each other. Rose sat down beside the older woman, and Rylan took the seat opposite Rose.

Soon after the train departed the station, the swaying motion rocked Mrs. Woodfield to sleep. Rose retrieved a book from her bag and pretended to read so she wouldn’t be forced to stare at Rylan.

A short time later, he leaned forward and gestured toward the book. “I’m guessing your book isn’t very interesting.”

She looked up and met his steady scrutiny. “On the contrary, I find it quite fascinating.”

He chuckled. “You have yet to turn the page. I thought it might be a wee bit dry.”

Heat spread across her cheeks to signal her embarrassment. “It truly is a fascinating book, but I can’t seem to concentrate enough to read at the moment.”

“I see. Then maybe we can talk instead.”

She closed the book and set it on her lap.

“How was your visit with Joshua? Was he unhappy to learn you won’t be seeing him on Wednesday evenings?”

Rylan had been amazed she would willingly cancel her weekly visits with Joshua, so his question didn’t overly surprise her. Though she hadn’t planned to discuss the details of her conversation with Joshua, there was no reason to withhold his reaction. “He was understanding. He did say he might visit on one or two of the Wednesdays, just in case there’s a little time when he can see me.” When Rylan shook his head and grinned, she continued. “I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. I am dedicated to this project and plan to devote all of my time to winning. We’ve been courting only since my graduation party. When we moved to Grafton, I didn’t have any expectation that he would continue to call on me. At this time, we’re no more than dear friends. I’ve told Joshua there won’t be time to see him, but—”

“‘Dear friends’?” His voice crackled with disbelief. “I’m thinking a man who is willing to take a day off work each week and travel to Grafton is considering something beyond friendship.” Rylan tipped his head to one side. “I’d say maybe he’s got a weddin’ in mind.”

She withdrew a lace-edged handkerchief from her pocket and blotted her face. She couldn’t be certain if it was the heat inside the railroad car or Rylan’s bold remarks that had caused perspiration to dampen her forehead and palms. “I can assure you that Joshua and I have no wedding plans. I have repeatedly told him that his business should come first at this time in his life, but if he chooses to come to Grafton each week, I cannot stop him.”

Rylan shrugged. “That’s true enough, but does it not cause you to wonder a wee bit what he must be thinkin’ and why he’d make such a choice if it’s as you say and only to visit a
friend
?”

“Are you intimating that I’m not being truthful with you? Because if you are, then—”

“Nay. I believe what you’ve said, but it does cause a bit of wonder.”

Rose frowned. “
What
causes a bit of wonder?”

Rylan glanced at Mrs. Woodfield and lowered his voice. “If there might be some other reason he comes to Grafton. Something beyond his visits with you. Have ya ever considered that?”

For the life of her, Rose couldn’t imagine what Rylan was thinking and why he was so interested in Joshua and his visits to Grafton. “He comes here to call on me, but he also spends time with Ewan discussing the pottery business. I’m certain you’ve seen him in the office from time to time.”

“Aye.” A shock of hair dipped across Rylan’s forehead as he bobbed his head. “When your family first purchased the business, Joshua came to the office for brief visits, but I’ve not seen him darken the doorway for weeks now. What does he do until he comes calling on you is what I’m wonderin’. I’d think a man would become weary of sittin’ in a hotel room week after week, especially when there’s a later train he could be catchin’.”

Rose had contemplated the same thing from time to time. So had other members of the family, but she’d never asked Joshua why he insisted upon the early train or why he’d constantly refused to stay at their home rather than the local hotel. He’d told her he didn’t want his weekly visits to become an inconvenience. She’d accepted his decision without further question.

Before she’d digested his last remark, Rylan tapped the cover of her book to gain her attention. “Did he pay visits to you on Wednesdays when you lived in Bartlett?”

She closed her eyes. His questions were becoming somewhat annoying. “No. Unless there was a special event, his usual day to call on me was Monday.”

Rylan hesitated a moment. “And was Monday the day the household staff was off work?”

Rose sighed. Why did he care about the staff and their workdays when the family was living in Bartlett? “Half of the help took their day off on Sunday and the others on Monday. Laura needed some of the staff to help if she had guests for Sunday dinner. Beatrice worked on Sundays, as well. That way she could lend a hand if Tessa became fussy during church service or if Laura entertained Sunday dinner guests.”

Rylan continued to stare at her as if he expected something further. Was he waiting for her to answer his earlier question regarding Joshua’s activities on his Wednesday visits?

A gnawing discomfort swept over her as she attempted to fill the silence that hung between them. “I think Joshua likely brings some of his paper work with him. His hotel room offers the peace and quiet needed to complete such tasks.” She was relieved when Rylan gave a brief nod and leaned back in his seat.

In truth, she had no idea what Joshua did during the hours preceding their visits, but perhaps she should inquire when he next called upon her. Not having answers to Rylan’s questions caused Rose to realize she’d been negligent, and embarrassment weighed upon her. Proper etiquette was very clear: A woman should always express interest in a man’s opinions and well-being. Rather than inquiring about Joshua’s welfare, she’d been too busy discussing her work at the pottery.

Once the contest was over and she and Joshua resumed their weekly visits, she wouldn’t be so remiss.

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

A
s the train rumbled and hissed into various train stations to take on water and passengers, Rylan puzzled over Rose’s naïve acceptance of Joshua’s behavior. Did she truly believe he was hunched over a desk in his room tabulating figures or poring over bids and contracts every Wednesday? Undoubtedly Joshua had performed a wee bit of work from time to time. After all, there had been the bids he’d mailed while in Grafton. However, Rylan didn’t believe it was work that consumed most of Joshua’s time at the hotel.

Rylan had hoped his questions might spark a degree of curiosity on Rose’s part, perhaps open her eyes to what he suspected was going on at the hotel, but she seemed convinced that Joshua was a decent man.

He had wrestled with the idea of being forthright and telling her what he’d observed. He’d considered telling Ewan yesterday, but since he couldn’t speak with absolute certainty, he’d remained silent. If he told Rose and she confronted Joshua, he and Beatrice might offer some believable explanation as to why they were meeting. And they would surely deny the claim that he’d seen them kissing behind the hotel.

Better to remain silent. He’d planted the seed. He would now pray that the seed would take root, for Rose deserved better than Joshua Harkness. They weren’t far from Pittsburgh when Mrs. Woodfield tapped the train window. “Take a look, Rylan. This is what the big city of Pittsburgh looks like.” She waited until he turned to the window. “Not what you expected, I’m sure.”

“Nay. Even though it’s afternoon, ’tis difficult to see much of anything out there except a gloomy haze. Seems the fog should have lifted by now.” He leaned closer to the window. “Unless there’s a storm moving in.”

“There’s no storm on the horizon, Rylan. Pittsburgh is a city of industry. Unfortunately, the businesses that support the residents of the area also create this murky pall, which is heavy enough to prevent the sun from breaking through.” She gave a small sigh. “In the foothills, we expect the sun to break through by midmorning, but folks who live here have no such expectation. The sun is seldom able to penetrate the shadowy layers that hover over Pittsburgh.”

Rylan wondered what it must be like to never see the bright sunshine or the clear blue sky that draped the valley each day. For sure, he wouldn’t like to live in such a gloomy place. As the train pulled into the station, they gathered their few belongings and shuffled through the narrow aisle to step onto the platform.

Rylan glanced about, expecting to be invigorated by the sights and sounds of the city. Instead, his spirits sagged. Even before they arrived at the hotel, the gloom encompassed and weighed him down. He prayed they would complete their business in short order, for he already longed to return to the fresh air and sunshine in West Virginia.

As they stepped down from the hansom cab, Rylan studied the blond brick edifice that would be their home for the next few days. His gaze settled on the signage affixed to the pinnacle of the hotel. Through the bleak dreariness, he finally made out the words
Franklin Hotel
and wondered how many guests had overlooked the obscured marker.

Rylan followed the two ladies into the hotel. As they approached the front desk, he glanced toward the stairway. “I hope our rooms are on one of the lower floors.”

Mrs. Woodfield chuckled. “There is an elevator, and bellboys will assist with our luggage, Rylan, so it matters little what floor we’re on.”

“’Tis not the baggage that concerns me, Mrs. Woodfield. I’d like to be able to look out the window and see something besides the darkness that hides this city from view. I’m thinkin’ the higher I go, the worse it becomes.” He turned his attention upward.

The older woman followed his look to the frieze of delicate blue and white flowers interlaced with gold ribbons that decorated the ceiling. “I believe the view of that ceiling makes up for the gloominess outside, don’t you?”

“Aye, ’tis a work of beauty, for sure.” He narrowed his eyes and smiled as he read the intricate Scripture reference beneath the spray of flowers. Ephesians 2, one of his favorite chapters in the Bible. He turned, hoping to point out the intricate artwork and Scripture reference to Rose, but she had wandered into the large sitting room off the lobby.

Mrs. Woodfield stepped close to the counter and leaned toward the desk clerk. “If possible, we’d like rooms on the lower floors please.”

The slender man gave a slight nod that caused his spectacles to slip a notch. After tracing his finger down the ledger book, he looked up and smiled at Mrs. Woodfield. “I believe we can accommodate your request. However, your rooms will be on opposite ends of the hallway on the second floor. Is that acceptable?”

“That will be fine.” She smiled at Rylan. “We’re in luck. The clerk located two rooms on the second floor.” With a quick nod toward the sitting room, she said, “Why don’t you fetch Rose? Tell her we’re going to our rooms, and ask her to join us.”

While Mrs. Woodfield busied herself directing the bellboy, Rylan crossed the lobby and entered the sitting room. Rose appeared lost in thought and startled when he drew near. “Mrs. Woodfield wants you to join her. We’re ready to go to our rooms.”

She sighed and extended her arm. “This is one of the most gorgeous hotels I’ve ever seen. I’ve been to other hotels both here in Pittsburgh and in Philadelphia with Ewan and Laura, but we never stayed here. It’s truly remarkable. I’m so glad Grandmother Woodfield decided we should come. Without seeing the hotel, it would be impossible to design pieces that are consistent with Mr. Franklin’s artistic style.”

“Sure, and it’s helpful to see the look of things and the colors he’s used in the hotel, but I’m not sure we’re needin’ anything that’s quite so elaborate as the decorations I’m seeing in this room.”

The intricately woven tapestries of unicorns and ancient warriors, the massive furniture upholstered in myriad designs, and the contrasting Minton tile floor didn’t appeal to him. The only evidence of design that met Rylan’s taste was the frieze on the ceiling of the lobby. “It’s all a bit much, don’t you think?”

Rose pinned him with a look that was as frosty as a winter morn. “Complex, elaborate décor is what will draw praise and win this contest. I learned that lesson while attending design school. Ordinary, unexciting design is not what’s wanted or expected.”

Rylan didn’t argue, but her words chafed. Soon enough he’d say what he believed would win the contest. Rose might know what would gain a prize in design school, but he knew what would appeal to a hotel owner who would need to supply whiteware to hotel kitchens for years and years. Cost would be a factor that Rose hadn’t considered. The expense of replacing plates, cups, saucers, bowls, and serving dishes in the many Franklin Hotel restaurants would become a factor in this contest, of that he was certain. Besides, he had as much to gain from winning this contest as she did.

Mrs. Woodfield reached for Rose’s hand as they drew near the front desk. “You should smile, my dear. You look as though you’ve been eating lemons.”

Rylan gave a brief nod and grinned. “Aye, ya would not want your face to freeze while y’er looking so sour, Rose.”

The slight smile that had appeared after Mrs. Woodfield’s cautionary remark immediately disappeared. There was no doubt he should have kept his mouth shut. His attempt at humor hadn’t helped matters.

An uncomfortable silence surrounded them as they followed the bellboy to the second floor. The young man came to a halt when he approached the second door on the right. “This is the room assigned to you, Mr. Campbell. The ladies will be at the other end of the hall.” He unlocked the door and handed the key to Rylan. “I’ll bring your baggage to the room once the ladies are settled in their room.”