Chapter 18
THERE WAS NO way to avoid the interaction with the ladies in the White Parlor. Ella was, for all intents and purposes, Keatley Hall’s hostess. Her absence was likely already noticed.
She knew what to expect when she stepped inside. Phoebe, Miss Sutton, and three of the wives would be present: Mrs. Norton, Mrs. Parker, and Mrs. Shiveley. Apart from Miss Sutton, Ella had known each of the ladies her entire life, yet she hesitated.
“I must say it.” Ella overheard Mrs. Parker’s raspy, booming voice say, “I do question the Society’s decision to bring him here. I thought it tasteless, not to mention disrespectful, when Mr. Parker first told me of it.”
“Disrespectful? Oh, I don’t know,” countered the petite Mrs. Norton in a pinched, singsong voice that always made her seem decades older than she was. “Leonora would have found humor in this, do you not think?”
“After the things that pamphlet said about her in the name of phrenology?” rebutted Mrs. Parker. “I think not! Mrs. Wilde may have been a proponent of phrenology, but after the vile suggestions of her in that ridiculous pamphlet, I think we can all agree that the whole idea is folly.”
“Do not be so quick to jump to conclusions, ladies,” Miss Sutton cautioned.
“That debacle, albeit contentious, occurred nearly a decade ago, did it not? That is more than ample time for any discipline to be revised and modified. Since I never had the pleasure of being acquainted with Mrs. Wilde, I cannot speak to the pamphlet, but I can share what I know to be true. And I have seen outstanding revelations come from these phrenological readings.”
Unable to bide more, Ella pinched her cheeks for color, straightened her posture, and then stepped in from the corridor. Mrs. Parker, Mrs. Shiveley, and Mrs. Norton were all seated on the long sofa perpendicular to the fire. Miss Sutton and Phoebe occupied the two wingback chairs.
The talking stopped. The women turned toward her.
“At last!” cried Phoebe, lowering her needlework to her lap. “We were beginning to wonder if you were going to join us at all.”
“I envy your courage to join the men,” stated Miss Sutton, who also lowered her embroidery hoop. “I’ve admittedly been curious. It must have been fascinating!”
Mrs. Norton patted the open space on the sofa next to her. “Do join us.”
Ella accepted the invitation and moved to sit next to the woman, who, of the three of the members’ wives, had always behaved the softest toward Ella.
Mrs. Norton’s sparse brows drew together.
“You’ve in my thoughts, my dear Miss Wilde.
With all this talk of phrenology and the sort, I can’t help but think of your mother.
She was so passionate about this topic! Wasn’t it just like her to be aware of it before everyone else?
What would she think now of these conversations if she were here sitting with us? ”
Ella sighed as she settled in the empty space to Mrs. Norton’s left.
“I’m not sure what she would think, to be honest. She was passionate about it, yes.
You may not be aware, but she kept detailed journals of her research.
In preparation for this symposium, I read them all.
Toward the end of her life, she was beginning to doubt the theory and even spoke out against it. ”
“Really?” Mrs. Shiveley’s gray eyes widened as she snipped an errant thread with her sewing scissors. “That’s surprising. I’d always heard she was such a proponent.”
Ella glanced over at Phoebe, whose pleading eyes and tightly pressed lips suggested that Ella remain silent on the matter.
Yet she could not. “My mother was passionate, yes, but she was passionate about the truth and the advancement of knowledge. I would be happy to share her findings with you at any time you should like, but I fear you’d likely be disappointed if you expected her to share the same views as Mr. Bauer. ”
There. She’d said it. In one fell swoop, she had done what she had told her father she would not do. She’d contradicted Mr. Bauer.
The ensuing shocked silence was deafening.
“Do you believe that the Society’s gathering is in vain then?” challenged Mrs. Parker.
“Not at all. I welcome the opportunity for everyone to learn as much as they can and come to their own conclusions. My mother’s opinion was but one woman’s opinion.”
“And you?” continued Mrs. Parker. “We all know you are not short on opinions. Do you share your mother’s view?”
“I am learning, just like everyone here, but I do hope that Mr. Bauer will convince me one way or the other.”
An awkward silence fell over the group until Mrs. Norton, with renewed energy and her kind ability to make others comfortable, sprang to life. “Do you know what I find so surprising? Mr. Gabriel Rowe! What a delight to see him here.”
A murmur circled the group, as if everyone welcomed a fresh topic.
“I spoke with him last night at dinner.” Mrs. Shiveley’s smile creased the lines around her mouth. “What an impressive young man. And so handsome! Such a pleasant conversationalist. If you ask me, that is what the Society requires for survival. Young blood.”
“Normally I would agree with you”—Mrs. Parker’s countenance darkened, and her graying head tilted to the side as if she was preparing to divulge a secret—“but we must be careful with what sorts of young men join the Society. You did hear about the scandal that befell his family a few years back, of course.”
A rustle of gasps and whispers ensued.
“I’ve not heard a thing!” Mrs. Norton’s ring-encrusted hand flew to her chest.
Mrs. Parker leaned forward and lowered her voice.
“You all know how I hate to be the one to spread gossip, but by now this is common knowledge among many circles. Young Mr. Rowe’s sister, Mary, was accused of murdering a man when she and her husband were abroad.
I believe it was in Scotland. It eventually was proven that her husband was indeed at fault, but what a mess it all was! ”
Mrs. Norton gasped. “That is abominable! No wonder the Rowe family has all but disappeared from society.”
“Apparently the husband accused her of the act to avoid the consequence, and she was imprisoned. Can you imagine? A gentlewoman and a lady!”
Ella’s ears rang with what she’d just heard.
“How have we not heard of it?” prodded Mrs. Norton.
“If you were the Rowes, would you not go to any length to prevent such news from spreading? The older Mr. Rowe completely disowned her, and I believe Gabriel Rowe sided with his sister and was disowned as well.”
Ella picked up a basket of sewing and sorted through it for a project but tucked away in her mind what she’d just learned. If it was indeed true, she felt as if she understood him more. He, too, had been faced with an injustice to overcome.
Ella sat across from her father in his study.
The symposium—along with all the activity that accompanied it—was taking a toll on him, and everyone could see it.
She’d overheard more than one conversation regarding the obvious decline in his health.
Her instinct screamed to defend him, to tell everyone that he was perfectly fine, but such words would be a blatant lie.
It was not just sickness from which her father suffered.
It was concern—and maybe disappointment.
Over her.
Despite his frail appearance, his voice echoed strong and low. “Mr. Abernathy told me about what happened at the lecture, about how you defied Mr. Bauer’s request and stayed to hear the presentation, even when he asked you to leave.”
“Of course I stayed! It is what I’ve always done! Why would I not?”
Her father grunted as he shifted his position in the chair.
“You’re not grasping the gravity of this situation, Eleanor.
Time is running out. Why would you push him away like that?
Do you want to leave Keatley Hall? Your life is here.
Your dreams are here. I may not know much about young women, but I’m not so obtuse to think that Mr. Abernathy is your ideal match.
Nevertheless, he’s stable, secure, clever, and at his core is a good man, and you’re practical enough to see that. ”
In this rare instance Ella was at a loss for words and unsure of how to respond.
Her father so seldom spoke passionately.
He was her only family, and she loved him with every ounce of her being, but even as the name Abraham Abernathy was being discussed, the name Gabriel Rowe haunted her.
Dare she even allow the thought of defying her father to enter her mind?
Her confidence was cracking. The endless optimism she’d always harbored about her future was foundering. She’d always thought she’d be different from other women—that she’d be free to oversee her life and her decisions. Wasn’t that what her mother had told her would happen?
Perhaps Ella was the one being unreasonable.
Maybe the hope of Mr. Rowe having a romantic attraction toward her was her attempt to divert from the truth.
Mr. Rowe was not interested in a school.
He was passionate about law and justice.
He might be a kind, handsome man, but had he not contacted her for one reason alone?
To observe Mr. Bauer’s behavior and report back to his client?
Mr. Rowe’s presence here had everything to do with his career and nothing to do with her.
When she did not respond to the statement about Mr. Abernathy, her father’s expression softened, and he even smiled.
“I am not used to silence from you, daughter. I don’t know how to interpret it.
All I can say is that I wish this entire situation were different, Ella.
I really do, but regardless, I believe this to be the best course.
I’m going to tell Abernathy he has my blessing on the matter, and that is that. ”