Chapter Twenty
Haven Point, Maine
ANNA
In the silence that followed Lillian storming upstairs, Elizabeth let out a great sigh. She shook her head slightly before turning to Anna. “I am sorry I did not tell you about Louisa. I assumed you had discerned who she was.”
“I’m embarrassed to say that I did not,” Anna replied. She was still processing all that had just been revealed. “So, Jerome knew all of it?”
“Of course.” Elizabeth’s tone implied this should be obvious.
Of course nothing! Anna thought, but she was mortified by how deeply she had misunderstood her sister’s marriage. “I’m sorry I did not tell you about Liberty Island. I expected Judith would react as she did, and I thought it would be easier if you did not know.”
“That’s all right. I am proud of you, Anna! I have not read it, of course, but I must.” She smiled and added, “I did read Judith’s newsletter. Her comments made it sound very appealing, and also suggested it’s been a success. I am so pleased for you.”
Anna asked some more questions, carefully worded so as not to apprise Elizabeth as to the full extent of her own ignorance.
From Elizabeth’s answers, she learned that, contrary to her own belief, Elizabeth had told Jerome about Calvin Stannarius before they married, and informed him immediately about the shipwreck and what she and Nora planned to do for Johanna.
Elizabeth had visited Johanna over the years, and though hesitant to accept help, she was open to advice.
It was evident early on that Louisa was a quick learner, and Elizabeth urged her to look into the programs at the settlement house.
Eugenia immediately noticed that the child was intelligent and mature beyond her years.
“I am sorry, Anna, for not telling you,” Elizabeth said again. “Jerome felt very strongly about it.”
“That’s all right. I certainly will not breathe a word of this to anyone, so he need not know that his mother spilled the secret.
” Anna paused for a moment, still digesting it all and trying to square it with what she had understood.
She was still unclear on a few points. “Where did Julia get the idea that she was going to Newport?”
“Before Lillian left for Portland, she told Rosemary to pack for Julia’s stay in Newport, and Julia overheard her.
Dear, brave Rosemary said that it was her understanding that Julia would not be going.
In reply, Lillian said, ‘I know that’s what Mrs. Demarest thinks, but Mr. Demarest will set her straight when he returns on Friday,’ and it would not leave much time to get her things together.
“Rosemary agreed, but only to humor her. She thought it was ridiculous, not even worth mentioning before she left for Portland. Of course she had no idea that Julia was eavesdropping. If only Julia had told me what she heard…” Elizabeth’s face fell, and she shuddered. “If I had just known.”
“You didn’t, though, Liz. And you couldn’t,” Anna said, then added, “I gather you’ve taken an awful lot of slings and arrows over the years.” She saw quite clearly now how her sister had absorbed all of Lillian’s criticisms.
“Better that she vent her spleen with me than with Jerome.”
“It still seems rather heroic,” Anna said.
Elizabeth shrugged. “Well, as you and I know, there are two choices. You can promote good relations among the members of a family you marry into. Or you can be like Clarissa.”
“Speaking of Clarissa, I assume she is the one who informed Lillian of Louisa’s identity. How did she know?”
“Probably from Bertie,” Elizabeth said. Bertie was Clarissa’s maid, who had been almost as unpleasant an addition to the household as Clarissa herself.
“Her family belongs to the same parish in South Boston. Johanna gave Louisa her own surname, as unmarried mothers often do, but I do not think the father’s identity was a great secret. ”
“I know why you did not think it would be fruitful to confront Clarissa about intercepting Calvin’s letters,” Anna said. “But what about now?”
Elizabeth looked up, thinking, and then a sly smile appeared on her face. “At the very least, Clarissa should know how shortsighted she was with this recent transgression.”
“How so?”
“Lillian knows nothing about Clarissa’s interference all those years ago. Would she be pleased to know that, if not for Clarissa, Jerome might not have married me?”
Anna smiled; then Elizabeth looked off for a second, as if remembering something, and began to laugh.
“What’s funny?” Anna asked.
“I was just thinking about something Lillian said, about not even being sure if Johanna Murphy really was the child’s mother. Was she implying what I think she was implying?”
“That you are Louisa’s mother? Probably. Though it’s hard to say if her problem is math or biology. Louisa is only a little older.”
They laughed again; then Anna put her hand on Elizabeth’s forearm. “I admire how you handled Lillian, how I now realize you have always handled her. You’re a good mother, a good wife. Mother would be proud of you.”
“I hope so,” Elizabeth said. “I’ve tried to do as she asked, to keep up the Newbold traditions, but nobody could live up to her example.”
Anna felt a jolt at the familiar words—the request that she had long believed her mother had made of her, specifically.
“Well, you have done a fine job,” Anna managed. “Among many things, Mother’s gift to us was summers. You have given Julia the same.”
“She gave us one thing I could never give Julia, though.”
“What’s that?”
“A sister,” Elizabeth replied, once again sounding as if this were an obvious answer.
“I wanted to help Calvin’s daughter, of course, but I own I was also a bit selfish.
Once I got to know her, I had a sense that Louisa and Julia would be …
I don’t know … comfortable together.” She looked at Anna hopefully. “And they do seem to be, don’t they?”
Anna felt tears threaten, but she suspected such a display would embarrass Elizabeth, so she just smiled and nodded.
Overwhelmed and in need of time to think, Anna got her shawl and went outside. There was no danger of a walk being interrupted by weather on this bright day, so she headed back into the woods.
I hope the traditions live on. And that you will help Elizabeth … Anna had always believed that Mother had anointed her the heir to the Newbold traditions, the Concord traditions. Now she understood that she had passed them down to both daughters, and wanted them to help each other.
And who had done the better job with that legacy? Anna recalled her frustration with her sister’s response whenever she suggested that they stand up to Clarissa, or urged Elizabeth to resist Lillian’s incessant demands. What good would that do? Elizabeth invariably replied.
That five-word question, which Anna had always considered a symptom of her sister’s passivity, her aversion to difficult conversations, she now saw in an entirely new light. It was, in fact, the distillation of a code of conduct as profound as it was simple: If it will not do good, why do it?
And Elizabeth did not merely say it. She lived it.
With some shame, Anna realized how consumed she had always been by the question of rightness.
Clarissa was quite often wrong, but once she and Father were married, there was no turning back the clock.
There was no profit in arguing with Clarissa.
The goal was to preserve what relationship they had with Father, which required not caring who was right or wrong.
Anna had thought her sister was powerless in her marriage, but now she saw that she had simply picked her battles carefully. She would not fuss about the Demarests’ furniture, but when something mattered, she took it up privately with Jerome.
Anna had thought Elizabeth “lucked into” Haven Point, but she would bet her last dime now that she had a hand on the tiller all along, helping to navigate away from Newport, just as she expertly steered the catboat yesterday.
Fourwinds was not a replica of their old cottage by the lake, but while willing to relent on matters of taste, Elizabeth would not do so on matters of community.
She ensured they would be among good people, solid and reliable.
And none finer than Elizabeth herself.
Later, Anna and Nora stood on the Grahams’ lawn, overlooking the water, where the Searses’ yacht looked like an oversized, overdressed giant amid the humbler craft moored in the harbor.
“I was thinking about that act you put on years ago, when you persuaded Rhinelander and Vesta Sears that this place was too boring for words.”
“And yet, there they are,” Nora said wryly, gesturing toward the harbor.
“Do you recall me asking if Elizabeth knew about the scheme? You said it was better not to tell people what would be uncomfortable to know.”
Nora nodded.
“I wondered what you meant by that. At the time, I thought it had something to do with Elizabeth and Jerome’s relationship.”
“Oh, no. It was just that the party was at Fourwinds. It would not be right to ask her, or any wife, to join in some scheme under her own roof without her husband’s knowledge.”
“Oh, I see. That seems like a good way of thinking,” Anna said.
“A way of thinking for which your sister is largely responsible, in fact.”
“How so?”
“Elizabeth just has a good instinct for where to draw the lines, how the women here can be supportive of each other, while also being respectful of marriages that could be strained by husbands being gone all week,” Nora said. “I’ve always thought she was the wisest wife on Haven Point.”
And the wisest mother, sister, and daughter, Anna thought.
Jerome would be arriving late, so after dinner, Elizabeth asked Anna if she’d like to take a walk and see how the cliff path was coming along.
Ambrose had hired some men to cut through the brush along the edge of the cliff so that residents would be able to enjoy a scenic walk between the yacht club and the beach. They had been working on it all summer.
Elizabeth was civil to her mother-in-law during dinner, but Lillian’s defeat had put her in a rather sour mood, so Anna was glad to get out of the house. Apparently Elizabeth was, too. As soon as they reached the rough path, she let loose a sigh of relief so loud, it made Anna laugh.
“I really think Lillian should be grateful,” Anna said, as they walked along the rough dirt path. “I am not sure she understands how fortunate she is that she chose to confront you first.”
“Fortunate indeed. She was probably so thrilled with her supposed discoveries, she simply could not hold off until Jerome arrived. Whether she realizes it or not, she saved herself a good deal of heartache.”
Elizabeth had never confided in Anna about her marriage, though she understood now why that had been the case.
She had been holding everything together all these years, striking a careful balance.
Since Lillian had chosen to air it all in front of Anna, Elizabeth evidently felt she could now speak freely.
“Did you perceive that Lillian wanted Jerome to marry Judith?” Anna asked. She had always wondered.
“I did not have to perceive it. Jerome told me as much,” Elizabeth said with a laugh.
“Honestly, though, I doubt Lillian would have been happy with anyone he married. She was too desperate for Jerome’s attention, too anxious about losing her place in his life.
I just tried to ensure she felt welcome so that she would not suffer so much. ”
For an instant, Anna felt a surge of the old, habitual exasperation at her sister’s willingness to tolerate such an unreasonable demand, but she quickly corrected herself. You can promote good relations among the members of a family you marry into. Or you can be like Clarissa.
Elizabeth had sensed that Lillian, in her desperation, was in danger of irreparably harming her relationship with her son, and she did what she could to prevent it.
“That was good of you,” Anna said.
“I once hoped I might bring them closer together,” Elizabeth said with a sigh. “In the end, I realized that the best I could do was try to keep Lillian from driving them farther apart.”
Anna nodded. She had observed how impatient Jerome was with his mother at times, but she had been far more focused on his casual deference to his mother’s opinion, and what she perceived was her sister’s unconditional surrender.
In the meantime, Elizabeth had been keeping an eye on what really mattered.
“How much did Jerome know about Lillian’s threats?”
“I shared what was necessary, though stripped of her vitriol. He knew his mother was eager for Julia to go to Newport and agreed that the decision should be Julia’s.
As you heard, that was not well received,” Elizabeth said with a wry laugh.
“There were other occasions. Last fall, Lillian demanded that we attend some talk Judith was delivering about that convent school in Paris. Jerome scoffed, so I had the pleasure of informing his mother that he had declined.”
Anna knew about that demand, of course, but she could hardly say that she had been listening at the door. “I wonder that she did not appeal to him directly about these matters.”
“I think she was always a little afraid to,” Elizabeth said.
“I suppose she was waiting until she had what she thought was an airtight case,” Anna said.
“Exactly. Hopefully she sees now that she will get nowhere.”
They walked for a while, and then Elizabeth stopped and looked at Anna.
“There is something I feel I should say, Anna, and that I probably should have said long ago.”
She paused, looked out at the water, and took a breath before continuing.
“It was such a remarkable coincidence, my seeing Calvin just before he died, I cannot help but believe we were brought together so we could both know that what we had was good and true, and so I might have a chance to redeem my part in what happened.
I have, in turn, been richly rewarded, knowing Louisa, and having known Johanna.
“I have Clarissa and Lillian as living examples of the corrosive effects of bitterness, and I made a firm decision to not look back with regret.
It would have hurt Jerome to learn what Clarissa did, so I have not told him.
If he ever found out, however, I could tell him in perfect honesty that I love him, and that I have never regretted marrying him.
“In my resolution to not dwell on the past, though, I realize that I utterly neglected you. I should have told you what I felt, how I had chosen to move forward. I am sorry for keeping all of that from you.”
Once again, Anna felt tears sting, but she held them back. “But you did tell me, Elizabeth. You said it in your love for your family, including me.”
Anna reached out and pulled her sister into a hug. It was through actions and not words, and Anna had not always chosen to listen, but Elizabeth had indeed spoken clearly.