Free Trinity: Bride of West Virginia (Amercan Mail-Order Bride 35) by Carré White Page A

me belly pains.”
    “Thank you.” I smiled weakly. “I’ll try to remember that.”
    She got to her feet. “Well, I must be going. I have company tonight. My housekeeper is waiting on the menu. We might have veal or pork.”
    I stood. “We’ve people over too.” I was forced to entertain nearly every night, Mr. Witherspoon being a social person who adored the company of his friends, although they were all his age. I had absolutely nothing in common with them.
    At the door, Elise hugged me. “I shall come back in a few days to see how you’re doing.”
    “Tell me about the knitting club. I’d like to join and meet new people. I need to make baby blankets.”
    She grinned. “I will. Good day, Mrs. Witherspoon.”
    “Good day, Elise.” I watched her descend the steps, where she walked across the yard, because her house wasn’t far from ours. My husband’s voice rang out behind me. He had been asleep. He typically came down the servant’s staircase at the back of the house.
    “There you are,” he said. “Did you hear the news, my dear?”
    “What news?”
    “Nathanial’s finally asked Miss Victoria Peterson to be his wife. Isn’t that wonderful?”
    “Yes.”
    “The official engagement party won’t be held until December.”
    “That long?”
    “We shall be going.”
    My eyes widened. “Going where?”
    “To Boston. Before you’re too far along to travel, we should take a little trip.” He reached out to hold my hand. “Don't you wish to meet Miss Peterson before the wedding?”
    “I … do.” I tried my best to smile, feeling gladness for Nathanial, although I still yearned for him. I hoped that feeling would pass. This had to be a silly crush, just like Elise’s crush from years before. If I waited long enough, these fanciful, romantic notions would pass. They had to.

Chapter Eleven
     
     
    Boston
    December 1890
    Although traveling for a day and changing trains twice, I hardly felt tired, my husband having slept most of the trip from New York. We had stopped there overnight to see acquaintances of his. He woke shortly before our arrival in Boston, looking slightly dazed and bleary-eyed. We sat in the first class luxury car, being waited on by a friendly porter. I had never traveled in such style before, marveling at how dramatically my life had changed in just three months.
    The hustle and bustle of the city filled my senses, the air laced with sweet and noxious smells, reminding me of Lawrence, although the skies looked blue instead of grey. A sleek black “growler” waited, the driver having left the door open. He took our bags, stowing them with ease, while we alighted, settling on plush leather seats. Knowing we would arrive at Nathanial’s house on the North End shortly, I felt a twinge of nervousness. He had not written to me again, although I had secretly hoped he would.
    “Are you comfortable, my dear?”
    “Yes, I’m fine.”
    I wore a traveling suit with full upper sleeves, the jacket and skirt a mauve color. Several black feathers sprouted out of the top of my hat, with black satin ribbons. I kept my gloved hands in my lap, as the carriage jerked slightly, the driver directing the horses towards a busy thoroughfare. I had been to Boston before—many years ago, having been in an orphanage there. The austerity of those years tumbled around in my mind, the bleakness of that existence a stark contrast to how I lived today.
    “Something’s on your mind.”
    “I’m just … the last time I was in Boston … I was eighteen.”
    “The Orphans asylum.”
    I glanced out the window at red brick buildings, the first floors occupied by shops. “Yes.”
    “You’ve spoken so little about it.”
    “Because it’s not very interesting.” Memories flooded, most unpleasant. “Whoever thought I’d come back like this,” I murmured.
    “Pardon?”
    I turned to look at my husband, seeing an older man in a top hat. “My circumstances have changed so drastically since