The Promise (13 page)

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Authors: Freda Lightfoot

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BOOK: The Promise
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I took a quick breath. Having got this far I wasn’t for giving up easily. ‘Mama, the Institute is a perfectly respectable place, and Ellis Cowper didn’t
allegedly
rescue me. Without doubt or question he saved both Prudence and myself from a highly embarrassing and possibly dangerous situation.’ If only I dared tell her exactly how dangerous, how Ellis had faced threats to his own life to save us, but Prue’s reputation was at stake, which I could not risk for the world. ‘I assure you he is a perfect gentleman. Please allow him the opportunity to at least call and prove his worth.’

Mama drew herself up ramrod straight in her chair. ‘I think not, Georgina. He’s a common sailor who flits from port to port with no settled abode, no status, no fortune other than a ruin of a house in some godforsaken spot, nothing to recommend him at all. And he is a foreigner to boot, about whom we know nothing. A most dreadful young man.’

‘But you may find that you like him, if you would only allow him to call.’

‘I said no,’ and placing her pince-nez upon the end of her nose, which she really didn’t need as she was as
sharp-eyed as an eagle, she consulted her list. ‘Next week we have the Levy boys coming, and Drew Kemp. I have great hopes of the latter, a charming man, and most comfortably placed. I believe you will find him an interesting prospect. And there will be no more helping out at the Seamen’s Institute if this is how you repay my generosity.’

‘Oh, but Mama.’

‘Not another word. I will hear no more of this English sailor, Georgina, is that quite clear?’

The subject, it seemed, was closed.

 

‘Why will Mama not allow us to choose our own suitors?’ I bitterly complained to Prue, stripping off my gown in a lather of hurt feelings without waiting for Maura’s assistance as we prepared for bed that night. I was almost in tears and my sister hugged me close, alarmed and upset by my distress.

‘You know full well that suitors need to be properly vetted first, before they are allowed anywhere near us. All the matrons sit around gossiping over their sewing bees and bridge parties, busily devising a list of suitable young men. If one isn’t on the list, there’s no hope for him.’

‘But
why
is it like that? Why can we not invite friends of our own?’

She frowned at me, then sadly smiled. ‘You fell for that young sailor in a big way, didn’t you, Georgia dear?’

I found myself flushing. ‘I did nothing of the sort, I’m simply speaking in general terms. He is an example, that is all, of how our freedom is curtailed.’

Prudence looked at me with that knowing smile of hers. I could tell she was in no way deceived. ‘You aren’t still seeing him, are you? Enjoying secret trysts in the park? Exchanging kisses in the sweet meadow grass or beneath the redwood trees?’

My cheeks burnt scarlet as I hotly denied it. ‘Of course not, don’t be silly!’ But I had to quickly turn away, pretending to fuss over the clasp of my necklace, thankful now of Maura’s help, as well as the sympathy in her eyes. I’d long since won her soft Irish heart round with evidence of our love. Or believed I had.

‘Well then,’ Prue said, already shrugging the problem away. ‘You should do as I do. Encourage them all, then choose the richest and most handsome.’

‘Oh, Prue, don’t be so heartless.’

‘A gel has to look after herself in this world.’

I sat on my dressing stool while Maura wrapped my hair in rags, pointlessly hoping for curls. ‘But what about love? Don’t you want to fall in love with the man you marry?’

‘Mama says love will follow as we get to know the young man in question. I’m sure it can be easily conjured up between two agreeable people. Money, however, is a different matter entirely. You either have it or you don’t, and I have no intention of living in poverty. Marrying a poor sailor, even one as handsome and beguiling as the steadfast Mr Cowper, would not suit me at all.’

It would suit me very well, I thought, but to my headstrong sister I simply smiled. ‘I don’t believe you are
half so money-grubbing as you pretend, Prue dearest. I, for one, have every intention of marrying for love. I shall insist upon it.’

She gave me what I can only describe as an
old-fashioned
look. ‘Well, good luck with persuading Mama and Papa to agree.’

Drew Kemp was not at all plump. Nor did he have red hair, or seem in the least boring. He was tall, olive-skinned, with
dark-brown
hair and strange, deep, chestnut eyes that never quite looked at you directly. He was also extremely handsome, albeit with a somewhat cynical curl to a thin upper lip. According to Mama he’d recently inherited, on his father’s death, not only a considerable business of real estate which he had plans to expand, but also a sizeable fortune to go with it.

Therefore he represented an excellent suitor for either one of her daughters.

Prue was happily flirting with Richard Denson, an amiable enough young fellow, willing and ambitious, the sort who would be an asset in any business. Papa would certainly approve of him. And as the son of a textile exporter, quite comfortably placed – an asset which ranked high in Mama’s list of requirements.

I couldn’t help smiling at my capricious sister as she batted her eyelashes, gazed at him adoringly and trilled with laughter at his feeble jokes. He was clearly most anxious to please and enchanted by empty-headed little Prudence, which was just as well, for once she’d set her cap at him the poor boy wouldn’t stand a chance, and that was before she called in Mama as backup.

She’d already riffled through my wardrobe and borrowed my most flattering gown in pale mauve, which showed off her porcelain skin to perfection. And very charming she looked in it too.

Sighing with some small degree of envy at my sister’s uncomplicated outlook on life, I looked about for further diversion. Unfortunately the Levy boys, who were always entertaining, seemed content to tinkle silly tunes on the pianoforte, so that left me with the indolent and haughty Drew Kemp. I thought him rather full of himself, oozing with artificial charm and self-confidence, so decided to ignore him and settle for listening to a stilted rendition of ‘In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree’.

My mind turned, as always, to the image of another young man, mentally tracing the line of his lips with mine. How I ached to be with him now, this very minute.

The last time we’d met was at the Institute on Thursday, when the Seamen’s choir had given a concert before the worthy citizens of San Francisco in aid of their homeless sailors charity. Prue and I, with Maura’s help, of course, were serving the refreshments during the interval. We barely had more than a moment to exchange a few desperate words secreted in the wings
behind a curtain, long enough for Ellis to gently warn me that he was rapidly running out of funds.

‘I’m going to have to go to sea soon, Georgia. I’ve been laid up for some weeks now, but it can’t go on indefinitely.’

I could feel a physical pain clench my heart even as I assured him that I fully understood, choking back a rush of tears as I’d no wish for him to think me selfish or needy.

He cradled my face between the palms of his hands. ‘You will wait for me, won’t you? You are my girl?’

That was the first time I’d ever heard him use those words and my heart swelled with pride and love. ‘Oh, yes, Ellis, my darling. For ever and always.’

He had to go on stage then for the second part of the show, and afterwards there were so many people crowding around to congratulate the singers that I couldn’t get near. Then there was John, our driver, impatiently urging us out the door, so I never got the chance to speak to him again. I hoped and prayed he wouldn’t be leaving quite yet. It seemed long enough to wait till next Wednesday when we would meet for our regular walk in the park.

Stifling my regret and fears I attempted now to focus on Drew Kemp. Glancing at him, I thought his face somewhat angular, with long harsh lines drawn between nose and mouth. I guessed he was older than myself by some six or seven years, maybe more.

Mama had set out a dish of fruit beside Cook’s blueberry muffins, perhaps despairing of winning approval for our non-existent baking skills, and with not a single topic of
sensible conversation in my head I offered him the dish. He selected a strawberry, nibbling it slowly till the juice ran down his jutting chin, his dark piercing eyes fixed upon mine in a most disturbing manner. ‘I hear you are considering taking up nursing as a career,’ he suddenly said, quite taking me by surprise. His voice was oddly light and with a slight rasp in his throat.

I lifted my chin. ‘You’ve been talking to Marcus Coleson, I take it?’

‘The poor fellow seemed stunned by such an unusual ambition; alarmed by it, in point of fact. He rather assumed such tasks were performed by ancient harridans, not a nubile young miss who’d rather caught his eye. What a waste that would be,’ he drawled.

‘You think women should not be educated, or have any ambition other than marriage?’

The grating sound of his chuckle was strangely irritating, and not a little patronising. Reaching for another strawberry he bit into it with strong white teeth, sucking up the juice in an expression of blissful ecstasy while his eyes mocked me. ‘I would never dare,’ he said, once the fruit had been consumed with relish. ‘Women, I’ve always found, are highly talented and can achieve whatever they set their minds to. Assuming they have a mind, that is.’

I was outraged by this remark, but, all too aware of Mama’s anxious glances in my direction, rigorously maintained a show of politeness. ‘You think us lacking in intelligence?’ I asked, a smile firmly fixed to my stiff lips.

‘I would not dream to issue such a damning indictment
on American womanhood. Lacking in judgement, perhaps, but that is bound to be the case if they do not have the benefit of a man to advise them.’

I gasped, feeling my cheeks start to burn. It would have been asking too much of my feminine pride to allow this remark to pass unchallenged. I took a breath, still desperately attempting to keep my voice calm. ‘I would like to remind you that San Francisco possesses some of the finest schools in the state, if not the entire country. I have several times visited our local education establishments with Mama, and found the children there not only busily scratching on their slates, but bright and neat, well mannered and eager to learn. The scholars receive the best education from talented teachers, covering such subjects as arithmetic and geometry, geography, the history of our nation, grammar, and even philosophy. Are you saying that this excellent curriculum should only be made available to boys?’

He considered my comments with a lazy grin, the curl to his lip together with an icy coolness in those dark eyes destroying any evidence of amusement. ‘They are the ones who will need to earn a living by the sweat of their brow.’

‘And why cannot women do the same?’

He laughed, a harsh bitter sound that I did not care for in the least. ‘Because there are more important things for women to do.’

‘Such as?’

‘Why, pleasing their husband, what else? And providing him with a son.’

‘Like a brood mare, you mean.’

His laughter this time was a throaty chuckle, although the eyes remained cold and hard. ‘Your choice of words, not mine, but yes, the epithet fits well. Any wife of mine would most definitely be required to present me with a parcel of children – at least two, if not all of them, male. She will also devote herself entirely to my pleasure and comfort, and wait upon my every whim. Isn’t that the lot of women? Isn’t that their proper purpose in life?’

I felt the heat of my anger bubble through my veins, the urge to leap to my feet and stalk away almost unbearable. I did not like this man, not one little bit. His arrogance was deeply unpleasant. Even Marcus Coleson now seemed like a harmless puppy by comparison. But I certainly wasn’t going to allow him to best me. ‘Then I should think you’ll have a hard time finding such a woman.’

‘On the contrary, I offer the kind of inducements no sensible Mama could bear to ignore. I shall have the pick of the crop. It is simply a matter of which one I decide to choose.’ And hovering his long fingers over the fruit bowl, thoughtfully commented, ‘Now which shall it be, a peach or a nice soft plum?’

That’s when I got up and walked away, in high dudgeon.

Sadly, I was alone in my dislike of Drew Kemp. Mama was seriously smitten. Even silly Prue could see no fault in him as we picked over the day’s crop of candidates with our usual scrutiny while enjoying a glass of iced tea.

‘But most men hold that view about women, Georgia, and they all want sons to follow them in their business. What do you expect?’

‘Did his hands meet with your approval?’ Mama asked, with a rare show of wry humour.

‘Yes, I will admit he has very fine hands; pale, with long tapering fingers.’

‘And his hair did not displease you?’

‘No, Mama, only his manner, which I found cold and unfriendly.’

She made a dismissive sound in her throat. ‘We don’t want you growing too friendly at this stage. Time enough for warmth later. He is exceedingly well placed, dear, and with an engaging wit. I shall speak to Papa about him, and invite him next Thursday, as well.’

‘But Mama …’

Too late, she sailed from the room in a flurry of taffeta with a light in her eye that I found deeply worrying.

 

The following Wednesday found me at the park, as usual, but this time Ellis was not there waiting for me when Maura and I arrived. The pair of us sat on a park bench for a while, twiddling with our gloves and parasols. Maura always made a valiant attempt, I noticed, to look smart and tidy, not wearing her maid’s uniform since I did not wish to draw attention to my status when we were out together. I preferred us to be seen as two friends, rather than mistress and maid. I admired the efforts she made to better herself and often gave her cast-offs of my own to wear, which I know she took great pleasure in. She would even try to emulate my style, matching the colour of her gown to mine. I once caught her in my room secretly trying on one of my ball
gowns, but crept away again unseen, having no wish to embarrass her.

After about half an hour we grew tired of sitting and walked a little, not too far in case Ellis should suddenly appear. But as the minutes ticked by I grew increasingly anxious. ‘Where can he be?’

‘Did he mention he might be leaving?’ Maura asked, and my reluctance to answer her question told its own story.

‘He did say funds were running low. But surely he can’t have found a new berth already?’

‘And he wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye,’ she agreed.

It dawned on me then that perhaps those few hurried words in the concert interval had been his way of doing exactly that. Ellis had indeed gone to sea, and I had no idea how long for or when he would return.

The very next day I was called to Papa’s study whereupon he informed me that I had been fortunate enough to receive an offer from Mr Andrew Kemp, and that he had accepted on my behalf. I made one almighty fuss. ‘I hardly know the man, and I do not like him!’ I screamed. ‘I shall certainly never agree to marry Drew Kemp.’

Father simply ordered me to my room to collect myself, where Mama later found me pacing the floor in a fury of tears.

‘Have you lost your senses, child, to refuse such an excellent proposal? I am at a loss to understand why you do not appreciate your good fortune.’

‘How dare Papa accept a proposal on my behalf? Why was I not consulted?’

‘Consulted?’ My mother looked aghast at the very idea. ‘Why would he feel the need to consult you, madam, I wonder? Instead of complaining, you’d do better to appreciate the pains your dear father is taking in looking after your well-being and future security.’ She was wearing her frozen do-not-argue-with-me expression, which for once I was ignoring.

‘So
I
have no say in the matter?’

She clicked her tongue in annoyance. ‘How can a young gel be allowed to make such an important decision without the proper guidance? Quite out of the question.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it is simply not done. It is a father’s duty to consider and plan a daughter’s happiness, and hers to obey.’

‘To marry where my heart is not engaged is surely a recipe for disaster, not happiness. I will not endure it.’ I was angrily fighting back fresh tears, desperately struggling to hold on to my self-control while I challenged the accepted logic of a fashionably arranged marriage which, to my mind, was anything but logical. ‘I will not marry a man I do not love!’

Turning away from her, I stood, arms folded, stubbornly glaring out across to the bay, wishing with all my heart that a certain sailor had not chosen this week as the time to leave, willing his ship to turn around and return home, bringing him to my rescue yet again.

My mother jerked me round to face her, wagging a
stern finger in my face. ‘You will do as your father says and be grateful.’

‘Never!’ Inside I was shaking, a burning sensation in my chest, as I couldn’t ever remember defying her with such stubborn determination. She too was stunned by this unexpected rebellion and instantly opted for a more reasonable approach.

‘Georgina, dearest, please stop looking at the negatives and start to think more positively,’ she wheedled. ‘Marriage will bring many benefits. With Kemp as your husband you will be granted the income to dress in the latest fashions and take a full part in society here in Frisco, not far from your family. There will be a home of your own, servants, children. Marriage will provide the freedom you crave.’

‘What freedom? Instead of being accountable to my father, I will simply be transferred to the dictate of a husband, a man I do not even like.’

Mama heaved a sigh. ‘I really cannot see what it is that troubles you so. Drew Kemp is a charming man, handsome, debonair, rich. What can you possibly have against him? And love will come, in time. Do you see your sister making a fuss? Dear Prudence has more sense. In fact, I can see another wedding on the horizon before the year is out if Denson comes up to snuff. She, at least, appreciates that she’ll require a pleasant home and a regular income coming in to feed the children she will one day have. All of which requires considerable care when choosing who will supply these essentials. While you, dear girl, go around with your head in the clouds as if life were a romance novel. Well, I do assure you that it is very
far from the case.
Love
, however delicious and exciting it may sound, will soon fly out the window when poverty comes in through the door.’

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