Chapter Six
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CeeCee meandered down the staircase, wondering what was the proper thing to do. She ’ d never stayed in a boarding house before. Hotels had been her experience when she toured the east coast and played concertos in famous theaters. One didn ’ t need to introduce oneself to hotel managers. Her arrival had been unusual, she supposed. It was doubtful many boarders came in the middle of the night, escorted by someone who had arranged the boarding but was not part of the boarding house staff. Should she search for her landlords and introduce herself, stay in her room until one of them came to her, or wait in their parlor even though she just spent the night in their home?
Rubbing her eyes, she stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked around. It was a lovely home. She had missed all this grandeur last night when Damien brought her in the back way, through the kitchen, and up the spiral stairs to the second floor. He quietly walked her to the room closest to the large front staircase and pushed the door open for her. A lantern was lit but turned down low. Damien pulled her trunk just inside the room and backed out.
“ Well, good night, then,” he had whispered. “ I ’ ll call on you tomorrow after mid-day meal. Get some rest. You look like you need it.”
She had frowned when he said she needed rest. Did she look so disheveled. Glancing in the dimly lit mirror on the door of a chifforobe, she couldn ’ t argue. She looked road weary. But it felt rude for him to point it out.
“ Thank you… for everything.” She had muttered and closed the door. It didn ’ t take her long to disrobe and slide under the bed covers. The room was probably lovely, but she was too tired, and the light was too dim for her to notice. Sleep took over her conscious mind and when she next opened her eyes, the sunlight filled the room. It had to be close to mid-day already. No one had woken her. Damien must have left that note like he said he would. The landlords had allowed her to sleep as long as she wanted. That was very kind of them.
Having been seasick for over two hours on the boat, she felt famished once she was on land. Even though it was the middle of the night, Damien had made smoked salmon sandwiches with sourdough bread and a dijon mustard spread that would rival Cook ’ s spicy Cajun aioli. He steeped a pot of tea, and they sat down to an incredible meal with oil lamps burning for a soft romantic glow. His house seemed really nice enough. At least what she could see of it, with the moon high in the sky and a lantern to light the kitchen in which she sat with him. She ’ d see his entire home another time, in the daylight, when she could truly assess the domicile. Technically it was her home, too. When she was ready to move into it.
Much like her first sight of the boarding house. She had been too tired and too sleep-deprived to notice if it was a barn with stairs or a mansion. Today, she realized the boarding house was indeed a house. A very nice house. With expensive and well-crafted furniture. Making her way from the stairs, she followed her nose through a parlor, a dining room, and into a kitchen. A woman turned from the stove when CeeCee pushed through.
“ Mmm. Something smells good,” CeeCee said.
“ Oh, there you are.” The woman wiped her hands on her apron and rushed toward CeeCee. “ You must be Sideez Burnett. Did I say your name right? Sideez ? ” She paused. “ Mr. Burnett has told us… well, he told us what he knew about you, and we are happy to have you staying in our home.”
She shook CeeCee ’ s hand then stepped back. “ Can I get you anything to eat, Mrs. Burnett?”
CeeCee smiled. “ It ’ s pronounced C è dez, but please call me CeeCee. I ’ d love a cup of coffee if you have it. And whatever that delicious, sweet smell is, I ’ d like some of that. If it ’ s not too much trouble.”
“ Of course. We keep a pot going all day for Mr. Leachman.” She gasped. “ Oh, that reminds me. I ’ m Lynette Leachman and my husband is Clarence. He ’ s the mayor… of Silverpines. But that ’ s neither here nor there.” She waved the information off. “ Do sit down. Let me pour you some coffee. The muffins will be ready in a moment. They are blackberry and cream cheese. I had a good garden last summer and was able to preserve the berries.”
“ Thank you. I appreciate you being so kind,” CeeCee sat. “ But in the future, if you ’ ll just point me in the right direction, I can get it for myself. You don ’ t have to wait on me like I ’ m a patron. ”
“ Oh, of course, sure. I ’ m new at this… I mean, as the mayor ’ s wife, I ’ m used to serving others.” She smiled nervously.
How odd that a boarding house would be owned by the mayor and how odder still that his wife would be so nervous around a tenant. CeeCee let the woman serve her a cup of coffee. “ I insist you treat me as any other boarder.” CeeCee said as she sipped the coffee. “ What are your expectations while I ’ m here. Damien told me last night that he paid for my board so that we could have a chance to get to know one another. I thought that was very kind of him.” She hesitated. “ I, uh, is he a kind man, Mrs. Leachman?”
“ Oh, yes. Mr. Burnett is a talented and gifted man. If you enjoy music and musical instruments, you ’ ll really enjoy being married to him.”
“ Oh, all I know about him is that he makes lovely things from wood.”
“ My dear,” Mrs. Leachman drew herself up to her full height. “ Your husband doesn ’ t just ‘ make things from wood. ’ He carves beautifully ornate exterior cases and then he makes the sound board into a fine-tuned instrument. He makes all sizes for any household need. From an upright to a sprawling grand.
“ You mean… he makes pianos?” CeeCee puzzled.
Mrs. Leachman bobbed her head. “ Silverpines is a silver mining and logging town. There is an endless supply of fine materials for him to work with. I suppose that ’ s why he settled here. His pianos are known all across the country, I ’ ve heard there are some orders from Europe who seek his creations. We have one in our church, and several of us who are blessed, we have one in our homes.”
CeeCee stared at her landlady. Slowly opening her mouth, CeeCee uttered. “ I-I am a pianist. I have performed in New York and along the Eastern seaboard. My mother did too. What a strange coincidence that Mademoiselle L ’ Rusoe would match me, sight unseen, with a man who builds pianos.”
The two ladies gawked at each other for a long silent moment.
“ Well, how wonderful. I ’ d say it was divine providence.” Mrs. Leachman said at last. “ Would you like to see one of his creations?”
“ Yes, please.” CeeCee forgot about the coffee and the muffin. She sprang to her feet. “ You really have one here in your home?”
“ Of course.” Mrs. Leachman giggled. “ Follow me.”
CeeCee padded behind her landlady as they climbed the stairs where the bedrooms were, then turned and climbed another narrower stairway that she had not noticed before. It led to an open area at the top. A ballroom.
At one corner was a beautiful grand piano. Its legs were ornately carved pieces that looked like human faces with human arms and hands that stretched upward as if they were carrying the instrument on their backs. The feet of the legs morphed into large tiger claw legs and feet. But the lid was breathtakingly beautiful with a sculpted depiction of Paradiso Canto XXXI , the third and final part of The Divine Comedy , by Dante. There were over a hundred singing angels floating in the clouds. It was exceptional and CeeCee was speechless.
The wood was rubbed with tongue oil to a high sheen. The grain was rich and warm. CeeCee gingerly lifted the lid to see the sound board and strings. She gently eased around to the matching ornately carved seat and sat. She lifted the fall board and cast her gaze on the ivory and ebony keys.
She touched the G key. The sound was lovely and perfectly tuned. She gingerly placed her fingers on the keys and closed her eyes. She began playing a piece by Brahms in B-flat major. One that she had recently played when she last was in New York. The room faded away as she played, and there was nothing but the music that filled her senses. She felt whole again.
The piano was perfect. Absorbed in the music that wrapped her heart in warmth and joy, she forgot about everything else. Everyone else. She played until she reached the end. She played a closing reprise, repeating the chorus and finalized the last note, letting it fade into the atmosphere around her before she opened her eyes. Remembering the standing ovation she received when she last played this piece, she stood.
Mrs. Leachman, Mr. Leachman, and Damien stood and applauded. When had Damien arrived? Two servants stood near an entrance she had not noticed. Much like Tante L é onie ’ s house, they had hidden hallways. They, too, applauded.
“ Bravo!” everyone shouted.
When had the others entered the ballroom? CeeCee felt heat fill her cheeks. She bowed as she would have done in New York. A slight giggle spilled from her lips. Joy filled her heart! She would be able to continue to play even though she had traveled so far from home.
She didn ’ t even care if there were ears to hear what she played. All that mattered was that she had a lovely piano on which she could play. Surely, if her husband made this amazing instrument, he had more. She couldn ’ t wait to ask him about his pianos. And especially if he had one in his house. She had not noticed last night, but she had only been in his kitchen.
She rushed toward Damien. “ You didn ’ t tell me you build pianos!” she blurted.
He searched her face, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes with the back of his fingers. “ You didn ’ t tell me you could play…” he swallowed, “ like that!”
“ I see why my matchmaker said we were destined to be married.” CeeCee said.
“ I ’ d say she was right.” Damien smiled, fixed on staring into her eyes.
“ Do you have one of these magnificent pieces in your home?” she asked, excited to hear him say yes.
“ No. I make them in my shop and send them out to whoever ordered them.”
CeeCee staggered back from him. “ But…why wouldn ’ t you own one of your own creations?”
He frowned. “ I never had a reason to have one in my home.”
“ But… you do now.” She turned her head. Would he be willing to make a piano just for her?
His frown turned into a nervous smile. “ It is my living. I make pianos and I sell them.” He hesitated. “ I had no idea you played.”
“ Well, you know now.” She tried one more time to convince him they would need a piano in their home. Did he not understand how important this was to her?
“ I don ’ t know,” he uttered.
“ Then I ’ ll stay here.” CeeCee lifted her chin. “ You said I could stay here at this boarding house until I was ready to come live with you. I can ’ t imagine living where there is no piano. I shall continue to live here.”
“ Well —I,” Mrs. Leachman stammered. “ You see…”
Mr. Leachman stepped forward. “ We haven ’ t met, ” he said as he extended his hand to shake hers. “ I ’ m Mayor Clarence Leachman. I own this home, with my wife, of course, whom you have already met. We are pleased to have you here… with us.” He glanced quickly at Damien. “ You ’ re welcome to stay as long as you need… but… well, we were under the impression you would simply need time to adjust and then you would be moving to Mr. Burnett ’ s home, since you are already husband and wife.”
CeeCee considered his carefully chosen words. “ I see. It ’ s almost as if you are not really a boarding house at all. Perhaps Mr. Burnett asked you to let me stay here, since it was a proxy wedding and we have never laid eyes on each other. To… to give me a chance… Am I right?”
The Leachmans looked at each other and then Mr. Burnett. “ Well, we…” Mrs. Leachman tried.
“ Yes, you ’ re right.” Damien spoke up. “ I arranged for you to stay here, but this is not a boarding house. We don ’ t have a boarding house or a hotel in Silverpines. Not yet, anyway. It seemed like the only way—”
“ The only way…” CeeCee interrupted. “ To trick me into staying?”
“ No, I, well, I didn ’ t mean to trick you, exactly,” Damien said. “ I just—”
“ But… you have tricked me into thinking these kind people are my landlords and that room I slept in was my room in a boarding house. I don ’ t see how you could think starting our marriage on a lie would be a good way to start at all.”
“ No, I suppose not.” Damien hung his head.
CeeCee tilted hers. Was she being too hard on him?. He had tried to do a kind thing for her. But why did he have to lie about the Leachmans? How embarrassing to find out she was not a boarder, but a guest in a home where she did not know the people. How could Damien put her in this position. She glanced at the lovely piano. It was an amazing instrument. Her husband did have talent.
“ It ’ s just…” She paused to think through her thoughts. “ Could I speak to you… in private,” she said to Damien.
“ Of course.” He moved closer to her.
“ We ’ ll, uh, let you two have some privacy.” Mrs. Leachman gestured for the servants to leave and pulled her husband toward the stairs. They scurried away quickly.
The room was eerily silent as CeeCee turned to focus on her husband.
“ This is not a boarding house?” she stated, but it was actually a question.
He hung his head. “ No. It ’ s not. ”
“ So… tell me, how big is your house?” she asked.
“ It… uh, I, well, I have been very successful here in Silverpines…” He lifted his chin to look confidently into her eyes. “ It ’ s a good sized home. Why?”
“ Well,” she pursed her lips. “ I cannot continue to take advantage of these kind people. So long as your house has more than one sleeping chamber, I should stay there, in your home. We can still take our time getting to know one another before I… join you… in your bedchamber.”
He slowly nodded. “ All right, of course, if that is what you wish, but…” Damien touched CeeCee ’ s arm. “ You should know, Mrs. Leachman has gone to a great deal of trouble to… well, to prepare her home for your arrival. She even decorated, as you can see, for the Christmas Holiday so that you would feel cheerful and welcome. It ’ s been quite the stir about town, too, mind you.” He chuckled. “ Got everyone digging out their decorations early.”
She stared at him. “ How dreadful!”
“ Why do you say this is dreadful?” Damien ’ s brow curled toward the center of his forehead.
“ I, it ’ s just, I - I mean, I can see that you have put a great deal of thought into my arrival and my comfort, but… I would think our marriage and living arrangements would be something we keep to ourselves. Why must the entire town know we do not intend to… to” —She lowered her voice to a whisper— “to consummate our marriage right away.”
Embarrassment seared her cheeks.
“ I see.” He lowered his eyes in thought. “ I had no idea you would have such strong feelings about… your arrival.”
“ I don ’ t mean to be ungrateful.” She tilted her head. Did he understand? She didn ’ t want to impose on strangers, and she certainly didn ’ t want to make a show of the development of their relationship. It was no one ’ s business.
“ I haven ’ t unpacked so everything is ready to be transported to your house. It ’ s just a matter of securing a wagon or buggy. Was that buggy you took me in last night yours?”
“ Yes, and I have several wagons. That ’ s how I get my creations to the nearest train depot. I can arrange to have your trunk moved to my house within the hour,” he said.
“ All right.” She jerked a nod and walked to the door. Glancing back at the amazing piano. “ That sure is a fine instrument. I very much enjoyed playing it.”
Damien lifted his chin but remained silent. CeeCee walked toward the landing that would take her downstairs.
“ Where are you going?” Damien asked.
“ To thank the Leachmans for their kind hospitality and tell them I will be leaving within the hour.” She paused at the door, then left the ballroom.
Could she apologize enough to overcome this debacle? Would the Leachmans forgive her for reneging on their plans to pretend to be a boarding house? Or would they be relieved not to have to accommodate a stranger in their home as if she were a tenant? She could see that they had gone to a lot of trouble with lovely Christmas decorations throughout the house. Perhaps if it were merely a matter of doing so a few weeks early, it would not be so much of an intrusion.
The Leachmans were seated in the parlor as CeeCee descended the final steps. She could only hope they accepted her apology. Would Damien understand how important it was to her to have a piano in their home? Would it be like her grandmother used to say, “ the cobbler ’ s kids always need shoes?”
Would she be a pianist married to a piano maker who lived without a piano in her home? It wouldn ’ t need to be as ornately crafted as the one the Leachmans have. A simple upright would be better than nothing. She could only hope her husband would bring one of his creations home and soon.