LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

to curiosity and then, in certain circles anyway, admiration.

      “The men fall over themselves to cross her path so they can tip their hats,” Susannah said. “I don’t see what the attraction is myself.” At which point Lewis noticed that Daniel blushed. At least he had the good sense not to make any comment.

      She went on. “The only topic of conversation amongst Wellington women is the cut of her dress and the amount of ribbon used to trim it. Meribeth Scully says they’ve been bought right out of satin.”

      The Scullys ran the local dry goods store, and although they carried a large selection of cloth and bobbins of thread, their supply of ribbon was limited to the plainer types required by local housewives and the two tailors in the village, mostly grosgrain in black or a dignified brown. This did not amount to a great deal of ribbon in a year, especially as there were so many Quakers in the area, and they, of course, used no ribbon at all.

      Lewis knew from their sidelong glances that Daniel and Susannah were expecting him to launch into a diatribe about the folly of letting personal vanity occupy the attention that should rightly go to spiritual concerns — it was what was expected from a Methodist minister — yet he found that he could quite understand the interest in this display of exotic female finery.

      In all the years of their marriage there were few ribbons that had ever come Betsy’s way, yet there had been one time when he had been paid for a christening with a few yards of cloth. It had been a pretty calico print, with a blue background and a scattering of pink and yellow flowers. He should have taken the bolt to the nearest town and traded it with some storekeeper for flour or sugar or even a few coins, but something had held him back. Instead, he had taken it home and suggested to Betsy that it was time for a new summer dress. Her eyes had lit up when she saw the cloth and he chided himself for not thinking of her more often. Even then, she had said something about their daughter’s wardrobe, but he had insisted that she use it for herself.

      Women needed things like pretty clothes once in a while to offset the harshness of their lives in this hard place, to take the edge off their constant round of looking after houses and children and husbands. Betsy had looked lovely in her new dress and he had told her so. Let the Scullys sell as much ribbon as they could lay their hands on, and if Clementine Elliott had raised the bar of Wellington fashion, then so be it. What real harm could it do if it was but a transitory thing and made women happier creatures?

      Of more concern was his brother-in-law. He knew that Daniel had a bit of an eye. After all, it had been what attracted him to Susannah in the first place. She had been an extraordinarily pretty girl and was still a fine-looking woman, but Lewis knew that she had begun to fret about the fine lines that had etched themselves into the skin around her eyes and mouth, and once he had surprised her at the mirror in the front hall. She had been pulling at the slightly sagging pouch of flesh under her chin. She’d blushed a little when she saw him, and he had not commented. He had no real reason to think that any part of Daniel would rove except for his eye, but he was anxious that his sister’s feelings not be wounded by even this small transgression. If necessary, he would have a word with him, but he hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

      Mrs. Elliott had dutifully attended her father-in-law the day after her arrival, but what the old man made of her was unknown, for by now he was apparently so far gone that it was unlikely that he even realized she was there. She must have concluded the same thing, for she made no move to return to the Elliott farm. Instead, she wandered the town, her small, pale son in tow, and handed her cards to everyone she met. Daniel had a supply of these cards, for she had asked him to leave a pile on the table in the entrance hall. He showed one to Lewis. Psychic Guide, it said in an ornamented script, and underneath, in plainer letters, Mesmerism, Transportation and Spirit Communication, Dr. & Mrs. Nathan Elliott. Rates upon inquiry.

      “What nonsense is this?” Lewis said. “Spirit communication? What’s that supposed to be about?”

      “I asked the same thing,” Daniel said. “Apparently, Mrs. Elliott has the ability to contact the dead, and helps their relatives speak with them, make sure they’re all right, that sort of thing. It all seems very odd, doesn’t it?”

      Lewis was quite prepared to overlook the obsession with dress that Clementine Elliott had ignited, but this was something he could not countenance.

      “This is wrong,” he said flatly, “a desecration. Not only that, I suspect it’s impossible anyway. This can’t be anything but a parlour trick.”

      Daniel shrugged. “It’s got everybody talking.”

      “I expect it has,” Lewis said. “That doesn’t mean it’s right. Has any fool actually taken her up on it?”

      Daniel appeared unconcerned. “Not yet, but I suspect it’s only a matter of time. There are plenty enough people who are desperate over the loss of a loved one. And there will be plenty of people who are curious enough to come at least once, just to see what it’s all about.”

      “You’ll have to tell her she can’t do that sort of thing here.”

      Daniel bristled. “Now, why on earth should I do that? It’s none of my business … and she’s a paying customer.”

      “But it’s fraud,” Lewis protested. “You’d be a party to it.”

      “I don’t see how you can come to that conclusion. All I do is rent the rooms. Besides, how do you know it’s a fraud? Maybe she can do what she claims.”

      “You know that can’t be true, Daniel.”

      “No, I don’t know for sure,” he said. “Maybe she can. Whether she can or not, all she’s really doing is bringing a little comfort to folks. What’s wrong with that?”

      “But it’s a lie.”

      “Oh, leave it alone, Thaddeus. She’s not hurting anybody. Not everybody has your conviction, you know.”

      In spite of his certainty that contacting the dead was both impious and impossible, Lewis had to concede that there was a certain element of truth in this argument, for he, too, had once been guilty of a longing to communicate with his lost daughters. He wondered if he would have availed himself of a similar service had it been available at the time of his most intense grief. In spite of his moral objections, he rather suspected that he might have considered it.

      Chapter Four

      Clementine stood at her upstairs window and watched as two women struggled down the street toward the hotel. She recognized one of them; the woman had been at the fusty little dry goods store the day before when she had called, and had seemed quite interested when she had been handed a card. The woman’s eyes had been red-rimmed. A recent loss, and a heavy one from the look of it, she had thought at the time. She would have spoken with the woman at greater length, but she had barely been able to get a word past the prattling of the little dressmaker who worked at a table in the corner. Fortunately, the gossipy woman had happily filled Clementine in on the details she needed to know after the woman had left.

      “That’s Mrs. Sprung. Poor lady lost her little girl in an accident just a month ago. She’s only just managed to pull herself together and go out once in a while.”

      “How dreadful,” Clementine had murmured. “Whatever happened?”

      She was treated to a blow-by-blow account of a runaway horse, a small child slipping in the street in front of it, broken, shattered bones, and the wails of the mother when it was discovered that the life had been battered out of her child. She had filed each detail away in her memory. The dressmaker had a very loose tongue, and Clementine made a mental note to frequent the store as often as possible.

      Clementine had known that it was only a matter of time until the grieving woman came to her, but she was surprised she had come so soon. It was nearly always a woman who made the first approach, and most often they brought someone with them the first time, for comfort and support. The second woman in the street beside her could be safely ignored.

      “Is the room ready?” she asked

Скачать книгу