Page 20 of The Pursuit of Elena Bradford

20

That evening after Kirby donned his blue waistcoat and coat with tails, he tied his cravat, smoothed down his hair, and studied his reflection in the mirror. He had the looks. Women were attracted to him. Men dismissed him for being an artist, but at times, they learned that being able to wield a paintbrush didn’t mean he couldn’t do other things considered manlier.

A good number had learned that lesson earlier on this day. Thanks to the old general, Kirby had profited even more than the wager Perkins had insisted on making. He glanced at the banknotes and coins he had pulled out of his pocket and counted when he got back to his room. Not a bad day’s work, even if he never got payment for the portraits of the two ladies, Vanessa and Madeline.

A servant had carried the portraits to their rooms. He had no reason to keep them, although Vanessa’s might make a good face for a magazine advertisement. Somehow, he didn’t think she would agree to that, and in good conscience, he would need her permission to sell her portrait. On the other hand, he might paint another similar portrait with enough changed about her looks to sell it later on.

As for Madeline Southworth’s, he was glad enough for the girl to have it whether he was paid or not. He hoped she would be happy with his portrayal of her when she got over being so upset by the duck fiasco. But he never knew what a woman would think of the portraits he did. Some that he thought were the best were not that well received. A person often saw themselves much differently than others did.

He had refrained from adding ducks along the bottom of Madeline’s portrait. At least, none the girl would notice. He had penciled in a very, very tiny sideways duck in one of the corners. It seemed so necessary and had made Ivy laugh. He had insisted she never share the secret of that duck. If she did, he would be out the gate here at the Springs and have to find another way to finance his westward dream.

“You, sir, don’t always exhibit good sense.” He pointed at his image in the mirror but smiled as he shook his head. He did have a way of taking foolish risks. Like jumping onto a runaway horse. Like drawing one very tiny duck that could spoil his great start here at the Springs simply to make sweet Ivy laugh. She became a picture of happiness when she laughed.

He wondered if her sister was as transformed by her laughter as Ivy. He had seen Elena smile but never laugh. She was ever serious. Sometimes almost looking sad, but he supposed she was still grieving her father. If Ivy was, she did not show it as readily, but she was very young.

The sketch he had done of her and the ducks was one reason he was feeling so good this night. He had not given it to her. He would not give it to her. That sketch was sure to bring him money someday. He might make a small copy for her if he had the time in the next few days. She deserved that for being such a wonderful model.

Then again, he had agreed to see that her letter found its way on the morning stagecoach to her sweetheart. She had given him the coins that had spilled out of Madeline Southworth’s reticule. That should be enough to encourage the man going for the supplies to make his way to the address on the folded letter. If not, Kirby could add another coin or two.

The mother must be tight with their money. That might not bode well for Kirby’s future plans, but given time, he could surely charm the mother the same as the daughters.

Besides, he would only need their money to get him started. Once he was in the west, he could make his own way selling his paintings and sketches. How great to never have to do another portrait unless he chose the subject, as he had with the young sister. He had sketched her whole figure standing with her head partially turned toward the lake to capture the innocence of her youth. Sometimes the images he made with quick charcoal lines surprised even him when they turned out to be more than he expected or even hoped. Those moments were the best, and the sketch of Ivy and the ducks had done that.

He put down his comb, straightened his cravat, and brushed a speck of lint from his jacket. Tonight he would be sure to dance with not only Elena but also her mother if she were willing to take a turn around the dance floor. And of course, Ivy would be ready to dance, especially if she saw General Dawson starting her way. Kirby laughed out loud, hid the money in his artist bag, and went out of the room.

The night held promise.

Ivy sat on the stool in front of the mirror as her mother worked her magic on her wayward curls. Mr. Frazier had done some magic of his own when he was sketching her by the lake with ducks around her even though none swam over to them. Drawing in the ducks hadn’t been the magic. That had been somehow making Ivy’s curls springing loose from their pins look as though they were meant to be that way.

She wished he had given her the sketch, but it was probably better that he hadn’t. She had no idea what her mother might say about her posing for the artist. Kirby Frazier had not won Mother over. She had nothing good to say about him despite how he had saved them by stopping the runaway stagecoach horses.

“You appear to be in a better mood this evening, Elena.” Her mother looked at Elena in the mirror as she fastened another pin in Ivy’s hair. “That’s good to see.”

“It’s easy to be in a good mood in such a beautiful place.” Elena threaded a ribbon into her own hair. Ivy was happy to see that she had not pulled her hair back so tightly and left a few waves to soften her look.

“Oh, it is,” Ivy agreed. “Did I tell you about watching Mr. Frazier paint a portrait of a woman named Madeline? Can you believe the woman was afraid of a few ducks coming up on the bank next to her? I thought she might faint before I could chase them away.”

She stopped herself before she blabbed about the thrown reticule and the found coins. Best her mother did not know anything about that either. When she and Elena were alone later, she could tell her the whole story. She would be glad Ivy had found a way to send a letter to Jacob. Ivy could hardly believe it had turned out to be so simple. Perhaps simple wasn’t the right way to think about it. More an answer to prayer.

“I’m surprised you didn’t try to pet the ducks instead of chasing them.” Elena peered over at her.

Ivy giggled. “I might have, but Mr. Frazier asked me to scare them away. Besides, the poor woman was near hysterics. She kept waving her bonnet at them. I think the ducks thought she had breadcrumbs.”

“It seems that artist man should have chased them away himself.” Her mother pulled Ivy’s hair tighter. “And not expect a girl to do it. I do hope you didn’t ruin your dress.”

“I was careful to keep my skirt out of the lake water.” She thought it best not to mention the duck droppings. “Mr. Frazier had his hands full with his palette and brush, and I didn’t mind helping the lady.”

“I saw him painting a couple of days ago. He does put on quite a show.” She tapped the top of Ivy’s head with the comb. “But not one you should spend your time watching.” She looked over at Elena. “Either of you.”

“Why not?” Elena didn’t look at Mother. “He merely puts on a theatrical act to attract more prospective subjects. Perhaps you should have a portrait done, Mother. The one he did of Vanessa was wonderful. He always makes the ladies look beautiful.”

“I’m quite satisfied with my looks. I don’t need the flattery of an artist’s brush. And you both need to keep in mind that we do not have money to waste on such foolishness as that.” She pointed the comb at Elena’s reflection. “Besides, I saw this Vanessa. Any capable artist could capture her beauty in a painting.”

“She is so pretty. And nice too.” Ivy hoped getting her mother to think about Vanessa instead of the artist would stop her from yanking Ivy’s hair so hard. It didn’t work.

“A woman coming here all alone. There’s something strange there.” Her mother frowned and jerked a tress of Ivy’s hair through her fingers to smooth out some of the curl. Ivy flinched and bit her lip to keep from making a protest.

“She enjoyed herself so much today,” Elena said.

“I saw the two of you with General Dawson.” Mother finally smiled. “I hope you were properly ladylike, Elena.”

“Of course. I only nibbled on my petit four and made sure to dip down curtsy-style to roll the lawn balls. I was dreadful at it. So was Vanessa, but the general politely did not make fun of our efforts,” Elena said. “He can be very entertaining. Vanessa liked him very much, and he seemed to be quite taken with her.”

Ivy knew Elena put that last in to poke her mother, who huffed out a breath. She sneaked a look at Elena in the mirror and caught her smile. Thank goodness Mother did not.

“How old do you think he is?” Elena tucked a jeweled comb into her hair. She looked as pretty as Ivy had ever seen her.

Mother put one last pin in Ivy’s hair and stepped back to survey her work. “Clive says he is fifty-seven.”

Elena whirled around to stare at Mother. “Clive?”

“General Dawson.” Mother stepped closer to the mirror to smooth her eyebrows.

“You know the general’s given name?” Ivy said.

“Well, certainly.” Mother licked her finger and ran it over her eyebrows again. “Surely you didn’t think his name was General?”

“I thought it might be.” Ivy shrugged with a little laugh, but neither her mother nor Elena seemed to hear her. Her mother turned from the mirror to sort through combs and jewelry on the table while Elena kept staring at her.

“He did say he had talked with you.” Elena raised her eyebrows. “And does he call you Juanita?”

“He has a very friendly manner. I am sure he called you Elena and your new friend Vanessa.”

“Miss Elena. Miss Vanessa.”

“He may have said Miss Juanita, but I don’t know why you are being so curious about it.” Mother turned to look straight at her. They both ignored Ivy. “I have made friends with quite a few of the older crowd out on the veranda. It has been very helpful in knowing which men might be attracted to you. General Dawson is definitely one of them.”

“Perhaps I am not the one he’s attracted to,” Elena said.

“Are you saying it’s that Vanessa? I suspect she has a man she’s planning to meet here.”

“I didn’t mean Vanessa. He did ask me how long it had been since Father died.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Elena. You are the one to consider all possibilities.”

Elena turned away from her mother. “I intend to find a possibility that is not old enough to be my grandfather.”

“That is wonderful as long as you remember the reason you need to make a match. You cannot let your emotions get in the way.”

“I can’t very well ask every man I meet how much is in his bank account.”

“You leave that part to me,” Mother said. “But I am serious about that artist. Stay away from him. I hear he grew up on a poor dirt farm and hasn’t a dime to his name.”

“I will do what I want, Mother.”

“Very well. Just make sure you want to do what you should.”

Ivy stood up and rustled her skirt. She was almost ready to tell about Mr. Frazier sneaking a duck into Madeline’s portrait simply to lighten the mood. But that might not work since her mother did not seem to have any fondness for him, and she had promised Mr. Frazier to never divulge that secret. Perhaps talking of Vanessa would be better.

“Did Vanessa say if she wanted to walk down with us? I could go tell her we’re ready.”

“She didn’t say,” Elena said.

“I daresay she can find the ballroom without our help.” Mother went into the hallway, and they followed her. She pointed toward the door next to theirs. “Check with her if you like.”

When Ivy tapped on the door, Vanessa opened it a crack. “Oh, Ivy. You look beautiful, but I’m not quite ready. I will be down very soon. Don’t get all the men tired of dancing before I get there.” Then without waiting for Ivy to say anything, she closed the door.

Mother frowned. “Has she got something hidden in there?”

“She probably wasn’t dressed yet. Or maybe the room was a mess.” Ivy made excuses for her, but it did seem odd that she seemed so secretive when she opened her door. Not that she needed to see the room. It would be identical to theirs. Ivy turned back to Elena and Mother. She grabbed Elena’s hands and laughed as she swirled her around.

“Let the dance begin.” Elena laughed with her.

Even their mother laughed.