Page 26 of A Lesson in Propriety (Merriweather Academy for Young Ladies #1)
Twenty-Six
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for the day when I’d finally get to meet you in person, Mrs. Merriweather,” the woman said, completely ignoring that Irma had gone stiff as a board once all the embracing started. “Truth be told, I was planning on visiting the castle tomorrow because I only learned yesterday, when I arrived in Chicago after a lengthy absence, that the New York Merriweather family had come to town. Why, you could have knocked me over with a feather when someone told me who you were when I spotted you across the church. But how wonderful to find you attending the same church service I just happened to be attending as well. I’m ever so happy you’re here, as I get to greet you a day earlier than expected, although I am sorry it’s under these circumstances.”
The woman gave Irma another squeeze, eliciting an honest-to-goodness grunt from Irma in return, which the woman blatantly ignored as she continued hugging her. “With that said, and before I get down to paying my condolences, let’s agree here and now to abandon all formality right from the start, which means I insist that you call me Fenna.”
“Informality might be rather premature,” Irma said, her voice muffled because Fenna was continuing to hug her. “I have no idea who you are, and am now going to suggest you abandon this unexpected hugging business before I do something unexpected, such as scream.”
The lady, Fenna Somebody-or-Other, froze for the briefest of seconds before she released her hold on Irma, took a step backward, then whipped off her hat, and, oddly enough, presented Irma with a bow. “I do beg your pardon, Mrs. Merriweather, as I’m sure I must have startled you with my enthusiastic greeting, which must be exactly why you haven’t realized who I am—I’m Fenna, Fenna Larkin—your sister-in-law’s very best friend as well as assistant.”
When Irma began looking as if she were at a complete loss, a clear sign she had no recollection of Ottilie ever mentioning this woman, Drusilla stepped forward and cleared her throat, then cleared it again, and louder this time because Fenna hadn’t bothered to turn toward her. Instead, she was keeping her attention firmly centered on Irma, smiling brightly, as if the smiling was going to result in Irma recalling who she was and then exclaiming how delighted she was to finally meet Fenna as well.
“Might you be the assistant who Norbert has mentioned to me, and who traveled to Egypt with my aunt?” Drusilla asked, stepping closer to Fenna in the hopes the lady might realize she was speaking to her.
Fenna, thankfully, turned to Drusilla and then raised a hand to her throat. “On my word but you’re Drusilla, of course.” She took a step closer. “Ottilie told me all about you and your sister, and she showed me miniatures of you two. Why, you’re just as darling as your miniature suggested.”
Since Drusilla knew exactly what miniature Aunt Ottilie would have shown Fenna, as well as knew it was not a likeness that was overly complimentary, she was a little surprised to be deemed a darling, but before she could summon up a thank-you to a rather dubious compliment, Fenna was looking over Drusilla’s shoulder, her ever-present smile dimming ever so slightly.
“I don’t see Annaliese anywhere, although I thought I saw her red hair from where I was sitting in the back of the church. Do not tell me that she’s already left to return to the castle, as I was anxious to ask her if she’s had any additional encounters with those pesky plume hunters your aunt mentioned she seems to enjoy tangling with.”
It was becoming evident that Fenna had not been exaggerating about Aunt Ottilie mentioning her nieces, and often from the sound of things.
“I’m sure Annaliese will be along directly, as we rode here together, although I’m not certain it would be wise to mention plume hunters to her while we’re still at church because there’s many a lady sporting feathers today, which I’m sure Annaliese has also noted. She’s most likely already in a questionable state about that, and that state could turn somewhat contentious if you remind her of the plume hunters who were responsible for collecting the feathers on all the hats here today.”
A smack to her forehead was Fenna’s first response to that. “I do beg your pardon, Drusilla, as you’re perfectly right and I should hold my tongue, at least until a more private moment. And how silly of me to think Annaliese had already departed since of course you rode here together, what with how Merriweather Castle, as our dear Ottilie always called it, isn’t exactly a hop, skip, and a jump away. But speaking of dear Ottilie, allow me to say how very sorry I am to learn, although I’ve had my suspicions for a while now, that she’s no longer with us.”
Drusilla frowned. “Why would you think she’s no longer with us?”
Fenna returned the frown. “Because you and your family are here, and gossip has it that you and your sister are the new owners of Merriweather Castle.”
“I’m afraid that gossip, which began permeating through town after I shared a few snippets regarding our arrival in Chicago with a hack driver who rushed right out to tell everyone, might have gotten a little mangled in the telling, as it isn’t completely accurate.”
“Are you saying that you and Annaliese aren’t the new owners of Merriweather Castle?” Fenna asked.
“We’re the owners, but we’re not the owners because we received word of Aunt Ottilie’s passing. She gave us the castle when she was in New York before she left on her last adventure.”
A furrow appeared on Fenna’s forehead. “She gave it to you?”
“Indeed.”
“Ottilie never mentioned a thing to me about giving away her castle,” Fenna muttered as she began tapping a finger against her chin, stilling mid-tap. “I find myself curious, though, as to whether—if rumor actually has it correctly and you’re considering turning the castle into an academy for ladies—if this was Ottilie’s idea. She was, after all, a supporter of advancing women’s rights through education.”
Drusilla inclined her head. “Opening an academy isn’t a rumor, although it wasn’t an idea Aunt Ottilie and I discussed. Aunt Ottilie told me that she wanted to keep the castle in the Merriweather family, and after Annaliese and I swore we would never sell it, my aunt handed us the keys and here we are.” She caught Fenna’s eye. “I’m quite relieved to hear that you thought the academy was Aunt Ottilie’s idea, though, as that reinforces my feeling that she would approve of what Annaliese and I are doing, something I’ve pondered quite a bit of late. I’ll now set aside any qualms regarding turning the castle into an academy I had, and simply concentrate on all the tasks I need to complete before we open the doors in a week, perhaps two, to almost sixty young ladies for an abbreviated summer session.”
Fenna blinked—several times, in fact. “You’re opening next week?”
“Hopefully, but that depends on if we stay on schedule, although classes will only be held three days a week since it is summer.”
Fenna shoved her hat back on her head. “That still seems quite industrious of you because, forgive me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you land in Chicago a mere month ago? I would think it would take much longer to turn the castle into a school, what with all the artifacts Ottilie has lying about in different rooms.”
“That’s exactly what I thought as well, until...” Drusilla turned and nodded to Rhenick. “My sister and I secured the services of Whittenbecker and Company, and I’m pleased to report that they’ve been very thorough, as well as fast, with getting the castle in order. The Whittenbecker family has also kindly lent me the services of their entire staff, and that staff has been working diligently to relocate Aunt Ottilie’s artifacts to the lower levels of the castle, freeing up space for classrooms.”
Fenna settled her attention on Rhenick, her eyes widening a second later. “Mr. Whittenbecker. My goodness but I didn’t realize you were standing there. It’s been a long time, although I doubt you remember me, as we only met briefly when you paid a visit to Ottilie well over two years ago. I was on the staircase, carrying a heavy urn filled with sand we’d collected in Egypt, which is why I only nodded to you after Ottilie told you who I was and then continued on my way to the mummy room.”
Rhenick considered her for a moment, then, quite as if one of Thomas Edison’s lightbulbs suddenly went on in his head, he smiled. “Miss Fenna, of course I remember meeting you now, although forgive me for faltering for a second, a direct result of the fact that the one time we met, you were wearing a turban.”
“Good heavens, but you’re right.” Fenna thrust out her hand to him, which he immediately took, but before he could kiss it, she gave his hand a rather vigorous shake.
“As you can see,” she continued as she kept what seemed to be a firm grasp of his hand, “I’ve abandoned my love for turbans and have taken to wearing a pith helmet instead because people in Chicago were making a point to frequently remark on my turbans, and not in a positive fashion.”
Rhenick’s eyes twinkled. “I find it difficult to believe that a pith helmet doesn’t garner some remarks as well.”
Fenna’s eyes twinkled back at him as she finally released his hand. “Oh, it does, but a pith helmet suggests I’m a lady of adventure, so I don’t mind the remarks this particular hat attracts.”
“A delightful way of choosing to view the gossip about you in town, but tell me this. After we were introduced, I remember Ottilie telling me that she had you hard at work cataloging the artifacts she’d brought home over the years, a task I have to imagine was rather daunting.”
“Oh, it was daunting, and was exactly why I didn’t accompany Ottilie on her last adventure.” She leaned closer to him. “Not that this is well-known, but Ottilie had decided to write a book about her collection, as well as her life, and that right there is why she wanted me to devote the months she was originally intending to be gone to finishing up the cataloging and completing the notes pertaining to where she’d found the pieces in her collection.”
She shook her head. “If I finished all that before she returned, she then wanted me to begin organizing notes that were more personal in nature so that she could include colorful tidbits about the unusual events she encountered while uncovering some of her artifacts.”
“How were you expected to do that when Aunt Ottilie wasn’t around to tell you her stories about those tidbits?” Drusilla asked.
Fenna glanced around, then edged closer to Drusilla. “Your aunt kept personal journals, and she gave me a few of them to read right before she left, claiming I’d find them riveting reads.”
Rhenick smiled. “I imagine Miss Ottilie’s journals were riveting reads indeed.”
“And one would have thought that would’ve been the case except the three journals she lent me before she left were more along the lines of tepid, but only because she gave me the first three journals she’d ever written—when she was ten.” Fenna returned Rhenick’s smile. “And while Ottilie did seem to enjoy an unconventional year when she was ten, the antics she got up to were rather mild.”
She switched her attention back to Drusilla. “I have, though, been itching to learn how Ottilie’s life played out over the years because she neglected to give me additional journals before she left town.”
“Why didn’t you simply help yourself to additional journals, as it was at Aunt Ottilie’s bequest that you gather this information so she could publish a book after she returned?”
Fenna shrugged. “Helping myself to additional journals wouldn’t have been untoward, as you’re quite right and it was at Ottilie’s request. However, I decided I needed to get the more mundane and dry research surrounding the artifacts out of the way first, which is why I repaired to the small cottage I keep outside the city since I knew that being away from Ottilie’s staff would keep me from becoming distracted from the work at hand.”
“You didn’t live in the castle?” Drusilla asked.
“I did not because Ottilie was a lady who enjoyed her space, and I didn’t want to put a strain on our friendship, although I did sleep over at the castle if Ottilie wanted to work late.” Fenna took to fiddling with the brim of her hat again. “But to return to why I didn’t help myself to Ottilie’s journals—it took me almost seven months to assemble the notes on the artifacts. During those months, I had no reason to stop by the castle, which is why I had no idea that strange occurrences had begun to happen there, nor did I know that the staff, save Norbert, had up and left due to those strange occurrences.”
Her lips thinned ever so slightly. “Imagine my surprise to hear all of that, and not hear it from inside the castle, where one would expect to hold an important conversation, but through the wrought-iron spindles of the front gate. That was where I then learned I would not be able to retrieve any of Ottilie’s journals that day as I was being denied access to the castle and grounds, and that access wasn’t up for debate.”