Page 6 of The Pursuit of Elena Bradford

6

Ivy peeled off her black dress and, with it, the gloom of death it represented. She worried that might be disrespectful to her father, but she couldn’t see why wearing black was such a requirement of grief. She could grieve her father in blue or pink just as well. Besides, he never wanted any of his girls to shed tears. Or the twins either, for that matter.

Papa liked them all to be happy. Even Elena. Well, especially Elena. She had always been his favorite. That didn’t bother Ivy. She was the girl in the middle. Elena was the oldest. The twins were not only the babies, but they were like bonus prizes to her mother and father. Two boys. Every man wanted sons. Every woman wanted to give her husband sons. A daughter was fine, but a son was vital to carrying on the family name.

Ivy loved her little brothers. She couldn’t remember before they were born. Elena could. Elena could remember before Ivy was born. At least, she said she could. Sometimes she sounded like she wouldn’t mind going back to that time. That didn’t bother Ivy either. Hardly anything did. Well, other than wearing shoes that pinched her toes or a corset pulled so tight it made breathing next to impossible.

But she could put up with such minor nuisances tonight as she pulled on the rose dress her mother ordered from New Orleans. She had never had such a beautiful organdy dress with a tiny waist and a flowing skirt. The silken petticoats under the skirt made the most tantalizing rustling sound.

“Isn’t this the most exciting thing ever?” Ivy swished her skirts back and forth in front of a gilt-framed mirror that was almost as tall as she was.

“Shh.” Elena motioned to their mother, who was resting in one of the beds with a damp cloth over her eyes. One of her headaches.

“Oh, sorry, Mother,” she whispered.

Her mother lifted her hand and waved away her apology.

Elena didn’t seem upset with Ivy either as she fastened her hair into a tight bun. Ivy wanted to tell her to let a few tresses curl around her face, but she didn’t. Elena never listened to her advice about anything like that. Well, about anything.

At least she didn’t look cross as she smiled at Ivy in the mirror and spoke softly. “More exciting than a runaway stagecoach?”

“A different kind of excitement. That was dreadful.” Ivy felt breathless and not because of her corset. Her heart did a little stutter when she thought about how sure she’d been that their coach would break apart as it bounced along the rough road. Keeping her mother’s headache in mind, she went on in a near whisper. “Wasn’t Mr. Frazier a wonder climbing out of the coach to stop the horses? He has the most amazing smile. Like he has never seen anything he didn’t like. Or anyone. But that Mr. Taylor. I don’t think he knew how to smile. I’m glad he didn’t come here.”

“I’m sure there will be some Mr. Taylors here.” Elena turned her head one way and then the other to check her hair.

“No, there couldn’t be. How could one be grouchy in such a place as this?” She swirled her skirts again before she slipped on her shoes. Not the pinching ones, even if they were a better match to the dress. She wanted nothing to take away from the pleasure of the dance. She hadn’t been to a dance in months. So no pinched toes tonight.

“What about Mr. Harper? Smiles didn’t seem to come easy for him either,” Elena said.

“I know. Poor man. He was so sad. The kind of sad that makes smiling difficult.”

“Sad?” Elena’s forehead wrinkled in a slight frown as she handed the comb to Ivy. “I rather wondered if he has some health problem and that is why he came to the Springs.”

“That could be. He did seem very concerned about how the dust made him cough.” The swipes Ivy made at her curls simply made them more wayward. “So yes, ill, but sad first.”

“I thought him very nice.”

“Being sad doesn’t keep one from being nice.” Ivy tapped the comb on her cheek. “Do you think terrible people feel sad?”

“I would think being terrible might make a person very sad.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I doubt truly terrible people feel much remorse about anything.”

“How many truly terrible people do you know?” Elena asked.

Ivy shrugged to pretend she wasn’t bothered by that look Elena gave her, as if Ivy was still a child who couldn’t know anything about anything. She tried to gather her hair back into a bun on top of her head, but strands escaped her comb and fingers to spring out in all directions.

She looked toward the bed, wishing her mother would offer to dress her hair. But she appeared to be asleep. She sighed. She couldn’t wake her. Sleep always helped her headaches go away. She made another attempt at corralling her hair.

Elena laughed and reached for the comb. “Here. Sit on the stool there and let me.”

“Oh, thank you, Elena. I despair of ever learning to properly fix my hair.” She peeked up at her in the mirror as Elena combed back her curls into an efficient bun. “I do like a few curls loose around my face.”

“Worry not, little sister. There are no pins strong enough to capture your every curl. You will have plenty of loose curls to entrance your dance partners.”

“Do you think anyone will ask me to dance?”

“I think every man there will ask you to dance. You do need to remember to not let them talk you into stepping out into the dark with them.”

“You mean to steal a kiss.” The thought made Ivy grin.

“No kissing allowed for you.” Elena tapped Ivy’s head with the comb.

“How about for you?”

“Only if they are very rich and have just asked me to marry them.”

Ivy thought Elena meant the words to be teasing, but unease sounded in her voice. What their mother expected to come from this trip to the Springs was no secret. Nor was it a secret that Elena had not embraced the plan with enthusiasm.

“You won’t have to say yes. Or let them have a kiss either.”

“A worry for another day,” Elena said.

Ivy watched her in the mirror a few seconds before she said, “Have you ever been kissed, Elena? By a boy.”

“I guess I’m past the kiss-the-boys stage. Remember the part about somebody proposing?”

Ivy didn’t bother asking her again. The way she avoided answering proved she hadn’t kissed any boys. Or men. Poor Elena. She never gave any suitor a chance.

Elena spoke again before Ivy could decide what to say next. “Have you?”

Ivy hesitated as she let her gaze drift toward her mother in the bed. She was snoring softly, but Ivy had known other times when she thought her mother couldn’t hear but she did.

“Why, Ivy, I do believe you’re blushing.” Elena leaned around Ivy to peer at her face.

Ivy fanned herself with her hand. “It’s so hot in here. I don’t know why Mother didn’t want us to raise the window.”

She didn’t really mind telling Elena about Jacob. She didn’t mind telling anybody about Jacob. Except she knew what they would all say. You are too young. It’s nothing but puppy love. But they were all wrong. She and Jacob did know what love was about. They were going to get married as soon as Jacob finished school. And yes, they had kissed. More than once.

“I think my little sister has secrets.” Elena finished pinning up Ivy’s hair and handed her the comb to fix the stray strands however she wished.

Ivy concentrated on twisting a curl around her finger and releasing it to tickle her ear. “Everybody has secrets, don’t you think?”

“Sisters shouldn’t have secrets from each other.”

Elena had never shared a secret with her, or hardly anything, but Ivy wasn’t going to mention that. She wanted to believe they could be sisters who shared everything, even their deepest secrets. From the time Ivy could remember, she had wanted to be more like Elena. So sure of herself and able to do everything well. She never spilled her drink or tripped over her own feet.

She seemed to glide through her days unruffled by the most upsetting problems. She simply figured out what should be done next. Even their mother looked to Elena to find ways to cope. Just like when their father died so suddenly. Ivy struggled for days to even believe it had truly happened, and Mother had taken to her bed. Elena had been the one to talk to the undertaker and their preacher. She had kept them all together. Ivy had no doubt she would continue to do so, whatever it might take.

Ivy took another quick look at her mother before she whispered, “How I feel about Jacob is hardly a secret.”

“Jacob? That Pennington boy who used to climb the trees in our yard to shake down water on you after a rain? I thought that infuriated you.”

“He’s grown up since then. He’s two years older than I am, you know. Well, almost. He’ll be eighteen next month.” Ivy twirled another strand of hair around her finger with great care before she released the curl. She wished Jacob was waiting down in the ballroom. She would dance every dance with him.

“Eighteen. I did see him at Father’s funeral. I hardly knew him, he had gotten so tall, but I don’t remember him visiting you for a while.”

“He was away at school. In the east. And yes, he is very tall and handsome.” A smile flickered across Ivy’s face. “He has the most wonderful brown eyes that seem to capture sunlight.”

“He does, does he?” Elena raised her eyebrows as she watched Ivy in the mirror.

“Didn’t you notice?”

“Obviously I should have, but I suppose I was too busy that day at Father’s funeral.” Elena kept her gaze fixed on a ruffle she was straightening on her skirt as she asked, “And you have let him kiss you?”

Elena didn’t sound all that interested. She, the same as everyone else, was probably sure what Ivy felt for Jacob was nothing but a childish infatuation. Even so, she seemed to be waiting for Ivy to answer.

“Only a time or two.”

Ivy tried to sound a little cavalier while, in truth, she could recall every detail of the four times Jacob had kissed her. The first was a sweet peck when they were mere children. Two were stolen in the shadows, one of them a so-very-gentle kiss after her father’s funeral. Jacob had so much love in his eyes for her that day.

The last, well the last was not one she liked to think on as much. The kiss was fine, but then after Ivy told him they were leaving for Graham Springs, Jacob had been upset. He had only the day before returned to Lexington from the school in the east.

“Tell your mother you refuse to go,” he’d said.

“I can’t do that.”

“You could. If you really cared for me. I thought we would see each other more this summer before I have to return to school.” His voice changed from demanding to pleading. “You could stay with a friend.”

“Mother wants me to go. She says I have to help Elena find a husband.”

“But what if you are the one to fall in love?” He had looked so very worried then as he held her hands and stared into her eyes. “With someone else.”

At the time, she had wanted to find a way to do as he asked. She had even mentioned to her mother that she could stay in the city, but her mother had brushed away the idea as foolish. Ivy had ended up writing Jacob to assure him no one could ever replace him in her heart. Two months wasn’t forever. Actually, her mother said it was a very short time for Elena to be properly matched with a suitor.

“I see.” Elena’s words brought Ivy back to the present. She turned away from the mirror. “Come. We are as ready as we are going to be. Time to go find the ballroom.”