[Song of Alaska 02] - Morning's Refrain (14 page)
P
hoebe put away her flute and smiled, a sense of satisfaction washing over her. It was so fulfilling to be a part of a musical group, especially one that enjoyed playing the works of many of the great composers.
“You are coming along quickly,” Lydia told her. She had just seen the other members of the little orchestra out. “We will make quite the ensemble at the winter ball.”
“I very much enjoy the pieces you have chosen. I am particularly fond of Johann Strauss the elder’s pieces, but his son’s ‘Blue Danube Waltz’ is also a great favorite of mine. I know all of them will be perfect for the dance.”
“We shall have to make certain you get a chance to dance, as well as play your flute,” Lydia said. “I know most of the men in town would be sorely vexed with me if I had you sit out the entire ball.”
“Does Mr. Lindquist mind not getting to dance with you?”
Phoebe asked. She had observed the couple, and she loved the way Mr. Lindquist attended to his wife. Watching them at the practice sessions, with him playing his guitar and Lydia her violin, left Phoebe longing for a love like that of her own.
“No, we found long ago that we preferred the music we could make together to dancing. Music binds us in a way that nothing else can.”
The older woman’s words pierced Phoebe’s heart. How wonderful it would be to feel so connected to another person. “I truly hope for that one day, myself.” She smiled at Lydia. “Whether through music or something else.”
Lydia nodded. “So how are you adapting to life in Sitka?”
“Participating in our little orchestra helps, for sure,” Phoebe replied. “Otherwise, I feel a bit out of sorts. I don’t seem to fit in well, though I’m trying to adjust. Mother and I are working on the candles, and I love talking to Zee about the Tlingits. I’ve learned so much.”
“Have you and your mother considered opening a little shop to sell your candles?”
“Mother said the cost of such a thing would prohibit us making even enough money to cover supplies. We have always made them at home. I like it that way, I must say. It’s a tradition in our family, you know.”
“Your mother mentioned something about all the generations of women who had made candles. My own lineage is so steeped in controversy and heartache that something more productive such as chandlery would have been welcome.”
“It hasn’t stopped us from having our share of controversy and heartache,” Phoebe replied without thinking. She quickly put her hands to her mouth.
“You needn’t fear saying the wrong thing to me,” Lydia assured her. “I won’t mention it.”
“It’s just that . . . well, my father has suffered politically for things over which he had no say. He prefers no one know anything more about him than what the present moment offers.”
“It’s hard when choices and decisions are made that cause us grief, even years later. Our family is definitely not without scandal. My own grief started when my father contracted my hand in marriage as part of a business arrangement. Please believe me when I say I understand—you needn’t fear gossip coming from me on the matter.”
“Are your mother and father still living?”
Lydia shook her head. “No, they died some time ago. My only family is what I have here. Kjell and my children, and of course, Zee.”
Glancing around, Phoebe used the opportunity to bring up the question uppermost on her mind. “I haven’t seen Dalton lately. I suppose he’s been working hard.”
“Actually, he’s not here. He accompanied his sister Evie to Kansas City.”
“He’s gone? When?” She didn’t mean for the questions to sound so urgent, but she was surprised. No one had said a word about him leaving and he had certainly never said anything about going away. Not that he owed her any explanations.
“He left about three weeks ago. I’m surprised you hadn’t heard.”
“Well, I asked Yuri when he came over one evening to say hello.” Phoebe felt her cheeks flush slightly. “I asked about Dalton then, but he just said something about him being extra busy.”
Lydia gave a light chuckle. “Yuri hopes to keep you all to himself, I’m sure. I’ve no doubt he thought if he made it seem Dalton held you no interest, you would easily give your heart to him.”
Phoebe was surprised by Lydia’s words. She lowered her head and looked at the flute case she held. She couldn’t think of anything to say.
“You will have many suitors in this town, as I’m sure you’ve already come to realize. You needn’t be embarrassed, nor think to keep such matters to yourself. Sitka is a small town and people will talk.”
Gathering her nerve, Phoebe looked up and found Lydia watching her with a motherly gaze. “Do you suppose . . . that . . . well . . . that Dalton would want to be one of those suitors?”
Lydia grinned. “If I know anything of my son, it is that he has a great appreciation for members of the opposite sex. He admires beauty in all shapes and sizes—be it in people, art, or even the boat he works on. I will not speak for him, but I believe he found you quite fascinating.”
“I treated him terribly the day I arrived. He saved my life, and I acted like a complete ninny. Since then, I’ve tried hard to be pleasant and kind.”
“Dalton isn’t one to hold a grudge.” Lydia paused and looked rather upset for a moment. “I think we should put aside such talk, lest I speak out of turn. Dalton hopes to be home sometime in the next few weeks. He and his sister did not plan to be gone long. It will give you plenty of time to focus on learning the songs we’ll play at the winter ball.”
“Thank you again for allowing me to join you in this,” Phoebe said. “I’m sure it will help me to pass the time.”
That night Phoebe surprised her mother as they saw to the supper dishes. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”
“What?” Her mother looked at her rather startled.
“Can a person fall in love with another person after meeting them only once or even twice?”
“Why do you ask that?”
Phoebe shrugged. “No reason. I just wondered. Didn’t you once tell me that Father fell in love with you after meeting you only once?”
“I suppose I did,” her mother replied. She turned back to the dishes. “But such things are rare.”
“But entirely possible?”
“I suppose so. I mean, I very nearly lost my heart to your father just as quickly. Still, I think it is better in this day and age to get to know one another before deciding such important matters. Taking a relationship slow and steady is far more reasonable.”
“I suppose so,” Phoebe replied with images of Dalton Lindquist dancing through her head, “but reasonable isn’t always how my heart sees things.”
Evie looked at the letter once again. Thomas’s dying words were full of apology and regret. He wrote that he had never intended to marry at all, but Floyd Gray had offered such a lucrative deal and that, coupled with his own father’s demands that Thomas take a wife, determined his choices for him.
He further commented on the man he’d come to care about. They had been friends since boyhood, and now the man was crippled and unable to work to make his own living. Thomas begged Evie to understand and not protest the will.
“He has no one and no hope of seeing to his care without this gift from me,” the letter read.
Evie couldn’t begin to understand the relationship Thomas had with this man, but she felt sorry for both of them. Folding the letter, she put it away and determined to settle her other affairs as soon as possible. She longed for her home in Sitka, and there was clearly no reason to remain in Kansas City.
Gazing into her vanity mirror, Evie pondered how the evening might go for them. She had sent invitations to her brothers and sister, asking that they come without their spouses and join her for dinner. Replies had come from all, assuring her that they would be present promptly at six.
The clock revealed that there was less than twenty minutes until this affair was to take place. Evie drew a deep breath and picked up a decorative comb, placing it in her thick blond hair. She studied the effect in the mirror. Her appearance was elegant, but not overly stated.
She stood just as a knock sounded. “Yes?”
“It’s me, Dalton.”
Evie quickly opened the door. Her brother had dressed in his new suit, but there was still something out of place about him, an air about him that he would never be completely comfortable in such elite settings.
“Are you ready?” she asked. “Prepared to meet your siblings?”
“I’m plenty nervous about it, but yes. I want to get this over with.”
“Just remember to be on your guard,” she warned. “They all have a way about them that can be quite charming.”
Dalton frowned. “Believe me, I’ve wrestled with my feelings on the entire matter. I would like to believe they could have changed, but the fact remains they caused my family great harm. Given that, I seriously doubt there is anything that will charm me about them—especially my brothers.”
“Marston was always a great actor. He is wily and skillful, and I have reason to believe that those abilities have only improved over the years.”
“Don’t worry, sister of mine. I will be careful.”
“They will certainly be surprised when they get here and realize you have come. I said nothing about your arrival. Unless one of the servants has slipped out to speak to them, we will have the upper hand.”
Through her open bedroom door, Evie heard the front bell ring. She glanced at the clock on her mantel. “That will be Jeannette. She always arrives ten minutes early. She likes to be the first one so that she can corner the hostess and learn all the new gossip without anyone else interfering.” She smiled at Dalton. “You might like to watch them arrive from the larger sitting room. I will open the connecting doors so you can hear the conversation and see them. Then when you feel like joining us, do so.”
“I would like that. It will give me time to assess the situation.”
“Then let us be about our business.” She led the way down the back servants’ stairs. “This will allow us to sneak in.” Evie threw him a conspiratorial grin. “We Grays are good at knowing how to slip around unnoticed.”
Evie took Dalton to the sitting room. “Stay here. I will leave the doors open and greet Jeannette,” she whispered. Dalton nodded and Evie swept past him and through the connecting doors to the smaller parlor, where her sister was already fussing with the butler over the care of her shawl.
“Jeannette.”
Her sister turned to greet her. The years wore themselves like an old companion on Jeannette’s face. Her sister looked haggard, perhaps even sickly. She had plumped out in a most matronly fashion, but even this had not caused her to discontinue her penchant for dressing in flamboyant gowns and jewelry.
“Genevieve! I can scarce believe you’ve finally come home.” She approached Evie with open arms. After embracing her rather stiffly, Jeannette pulled back and shook her head. “You are much too thin.”
Evie smiled. “It’s good to see you, Jeannette. How is your family?”
“They were quite vexed that you had not extended this evening’s invitation to them, as well. Of course, the boys are back East in school, but Minnie and Meredith would have loved to attend.