Chapter Twenty-Two
Haven Point, Maine
ANNA
Anna was at the steamship landing, fetching the mail, when she met Serena Lawrence, attired perfectly in a tightly corseted white flannel morning dress. She greeted Anna warmly.
“It’s a shame that Mr. Lockwood departed, is it not?” Serena asked.
In all the upheaval, Anna had had little time to think about Mr. Lockwood, and she felt a twinge of self-consciousness, wondering if Serena’s inquiry contained any hidden meaning.
Had people been speaking about her and Mr. Lockwood’s flirtation?
(And had it even been a “flirtation”? Anna felt horribly ignorant.)
She quickly dismissed this as silly. Serena had always been guileless. Mr. Lockwood had been with the girls on Jumaru almost every day, and they adored him. It was natural for her to feel his departure was unfortunate.
“Yes, it is a shame,” she replied.
Serena rolled her eyes. “Perhaps he was summoned by Mrs. Fairchild.”
Anna was so flabbergasted by this comment, it rendered her speechless. Guileless Serena was now trafficking in salacious gossip?
“I don’t know how he stands it,” Serena continued, shaking her head.
Now Anna began to feel annoyed. “If it is so distasteful, why does he permit it?”
Now Serena looked at Anna strangely. “Well, he cannot just go back on his promise to Mr. Fairchild!”
Anna’s mind was now in a scramble as she tried to fit this comment into her present understanding, but doing so required a deathbed conversation between Mr. Fairchild and Mr. Lockwood that was beyond her imagination. Finally, she relented.
“To what promise are you referring?”
Serena looked at her in bewilderment. “Acting as the trustee for his fortune, of course.”
“He is Judith Fairchild’s trustee?”
“Did you not know that?”
Anna shook her head slowly.
“Mr. Fairchild wanted someone of integrity who was also young enough to see things through for his son.”
“Ah, very wise,” Anna managed. Fortunately, Serena did not ask what Anna’s prior assumption about Mr. Lockwood and Mrs. Fairchild had been. Anna bade Serena farewell and set off for Fourwinds, her mind swimming.
When Anna, on the last night of her debutante season, saw Mrs. Fairchild clutching at Mr. Lockwood, her beseeching expression had reflected her desire for money.
The “wiles” that Mr. Wimborne said Mrs. Fairchild used were to extract money, as was the “pestering” of Mr. Lockwood that Vesta’s friends referred to.
Whenever Anna heard the two names whispered together, she was hearing people gossip about Judith Fairchild’s incessant requests for money.
Anna had thought herself a woman of reason and science, yet she had refused to question her own opinion, even when faced with evidence that Mr. Lockwood was not actually a person of irredeemable character.
It was in a very downcast state that she walked in the front door of Fourwinds. As it happened, Elizabeth was descending the stairs at that very moment, her eyes swollen with fatigue. “I did not sleep a wink last night, and it is all your fault.”
“What do you mean?” Anna asked wearily. Her list of errors was already so long, she was not sure she could bear adding another to it.
“I stayed up reading Liberty Island.”
By this time, Elizabeth had reached the bottom of the stairs. She took Anna’s hands in her own. “It is splendid, Anna. Absolutely splendid.”
Anna’s heart swelled. She had believed her sister was in earnest when she expressed a desire to read Liberty Island, but Elizabeth had never been a reader. Anna certainly did not expect her sister to pester her for a copy, as she had, or that she would read it immediately.
She smiled. “I’m sorry it cost you sleep.”
“I cannot allow you to hide this light under a barrel. You must let people know that you wrote this wonderful book. I am going to have a party here on Haven Point. We have to celebrate.”
“Oh, I don’t know…”
“Tell me one reason why you must remain anonymous.”
“Lillian Demarest? Judith Fairchild?”
Elizabeth scoffed. “You do not think I subscribe to Judith’s notions about children’s literature, do you?”
“No,” Anna conceded. Elizabeth had never said a word on the subject. And Lillian was hardly a threat, now that she knew she did not have the power to turn Jerome against Julia.
“Any other objections?” Elizabeth asked.
Anna shrugged. “I am drawing a blank.”
“Excellent.” Elizabeth nodded triumphantly. “Because I have already sent to Portland for copies to give to all our friends.”
Two days later, Anna was in the living room when Eugenia brought Louisa to Fourwinds to play with Julia. Louisa trotted up the stairs, and Anna asked if Eugenia would like to come sit for a moment. To her surprise, Eugenia accepted.
“Anna, your sister gave me a copy of your book, and I thoroughly enjoyed it!”
“Thank you,” Anna replied, then looked down, prepared for the inevitable lecture about how she should not have taken time away from the Margaret Fuller book. It would be nothing she had not already said to herself.
“You seem rather subdued. Is there something wrong?”
Anna looked up and saw a confused expression on Eugenia’s face.
“Oh. Well, I appreciate the compliment, but I suppose I saw it as a bit, well … unserious. It was such a dashed-off thing, and it took me away from the other book, of course.”
“You mean the Margaret Fuller book?” Eugenia paused for a moment, thinking.
“As much as I would personally welcome a biography of Fuller, the most important thing is that her ideas live on. And the girls in Liberty Island are so Concordian! They love beauty, simplicity, nature. They’re independent and adventurous.
And through their adventures, they discover their affinities.
I think such stories have a great deal of power in working on children’s imaginations. ”
“That’s interesting,” Anna said. She had not thought about her book in this light.
“We wonder why women have not made more progress since Margaret Fuller’s time. I cannot help but conclude that, to some extent, it comes down to simple lack of imagination.”
“Thank you, Eugenia. That is a very nice way of looking at it.”
“As for it being a ‘dashed-off thing,’ as you put it, if you found it easy to write, perhaps it is because you have found your affinity. A scholarly work is not inherently better, only different. Personally, I’d rather see you write more books like this than a hundred tomes on Margaret Fuller.”
Anna felt something slacken inside her. She could not quite tease out why, but Eugenia’s perspective was obviously something she had needed very much to hear. “Thank you again. I am pleased you see this as worthy.”
Eugenia smiled, but it faded, and she looked at Anna carefully, as if trying to figure something out. When she sat up straighter, Anna braced herself for the impending change of subject.
“On another note, I have to ask: What did you say to my brother that made him leave Haven Point in such haste?”
Anna could feel her face grow warm. She knew she had to explain, as difficult and embarrassing as it would be. Whether Mr. Lockwood forgave her or not, she at least wanted him to know why she had been so ungenerous to him, and Eugenia was the best person to convey that to him.
She took a breath, then told Eugenia everything—what she saw on the last night of her debutante season, when he did not appear for the dance, and all the comments she had heard over the years, up to the most recent ones on Rhinelander Sears’s yacht.
“I was stupid and stubborn, but given my ignorance of your brother’s role as Mrs. Fairchild’s trustee, perhaps you can see how I might have misread things.”
Eugenia kept a straight face throughout the confession, but when Anna was finished, she began to laugh, and once she started, she struggled to stop. The confession, and Eugenia’s amusement at it, came as such a relief, Anna could not help joining in.
“Oh, Anna, that is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard!” she said finally, wiping her eyes.
“Well, not so funny, when you consider how abominably I behaved toward your brother!” Anna said ruefully.
Eugenia collected herself. “No, no … I understand how uncomfortable it must be for you. But I would like you and my brother to be friends again. I will see what I can do.”
Later that week, Anna was on the island with the girls. She sat beneath a pine tree, legs stretched out before her, reflecting on Eugenia’s comments about Liberty Island.
If you found it easy to write, perhaps it is because you have found your affinity.
Anna thought back to her mother’s words during their last conversation. Only if it is your inclination, Anna, she had said, referring to Anna working with Father. I want you to follow your own affinity.
At the time, Anna had thought she understood the worried expression on her mother’s face: She wanted Father and Anna to complete the Fuller biography, but she did not want Anna to feel she had made a deathbed promise.
Now Anna wondered if that was the future her mother really had envisioned for her. Mother had been so perspicacious. Perhaps she had always known it was not her daughter’s affinity.
When Eugenia suggested that Liberty Island served a similar and equally valuable goal, Anna had instantly felt relieved. She had found it easy to write—enjoyable, even. She had never been able to summon the same motivation for the Fuller biography.
Anna had been feeling that her personal horizon was looking a bit gray. Perhaps allowing herself to more fully embrace this new direction would brighten it.
A little. Maybe.
She heard a noise behind her and turned to see Harley Lockwood approaching from the direction of the cove. Her heart leapt at the sight of him, but as he drew closer, she felt a sudden rush of shame and hid her face behind her hands.
“May I join you?” he asked.
Anna removed her hands from her face. She knew she was blushing furiously. “Of course,” she managed, and scooted over to make room for him.