Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
The rest of the day was spent going over the new list of services the sisters planned to offer, along with giving Teddy her first etiquette lessons. Starting with how to make a proper pot of tea.
Margaret came up with the idea when she went to brew another pot.
Ivy stood by and watched as Margaret walked Teddy through every step.
Augusta took over once the tea was served, teaching Teddy about different implements.
Strainers, spoons, and, of course, who should be served first in mixed company, along with a number of other rules.
By the time she finished, even Ivy’s head was swimming. She could only imagine how Teddy felt.
Caleb was learning a thing or two as well.
Ivy enjoyed the way his brow puckered at some of Augusta’s instructions.
He even asked a few questions of his own.
If neither of them knew much about tea, how many brides passing through the doors of the Sisters’ Mail-Order Bride Company had an equal lack of knowledge?
“It’s something to think about,” Ivy said, before taking a sip. “Teddy, this is excellent. I commend you.”
Teddy blushed. “Well, it’s just my first try at makin’ the stuff. But I gotta admit, I kind of like it.” She shrugged. “Coffee still wins for me.”
“I prefer tea,” Josie said, leaning back in her chair. “There’s just something about a hot cup on a snowy winter’s day that’s so satisfying.”
“I agree,” Margaret said with a nod and sipped her own. “I wonder if we have time to teach you how to make scones.” She smiled at Teddy and winked.
Teddy shook her head. “I don’t know about that. I get by when it comes to cookin’, but I can’t do nothin’ fancy. I’ve never really baked. Most of my cookin’’s been done over an open fire.”
Everyone stared at her, sympathy filling their expressions.
Ivy hadn’t asked how long Teddy had been living that way, and if she’d been cooking over an open fire… good grief. What had she been eating? Squirrels? Birds? Fish from the pond in the park?
She glanced out the window toward the street, her chest tightening. How awful it must have been. And for how long?
Turning back to Teddy, she said gently, “Life has been hard for you. Naturally, we want to give you the best possible chance at happiness with your new husband. It’s what we should strive to give all the brides who come to us.”
“Well said, my dear,” Margaret beamed, then turned to Augusta. “I think we should keep her.”
Augusta smiled. “You’re quite right, Sister. Ivy is compassionate and caring.” She turned to Caleb. “And so are you.”
He jolted in his seat, nearly spilling his tea. “Why, thank you, Augusta. That’s very kind of you.” He gave her a small smile and took a careful sip.
Ivy hid her amusement. Caleb was embarrassed by things she wouldn’t have expected, while other matters didn’t faze him at all.
Just then, the office door opened and a woman stepped inside. She was well dressed, wearing a matching hat, coat, and gloves. Her hair was the color of spun gold, her eyes a brilliant blue.
“Hello, dear,” Augusta said, rising. “Welcome to the Sisters’ Mail-Order Bride Company. May we help you?”
The woman smiled, and to Ivy’s surprise, curtsied. “Yes, you can. If you can find me a husband of worth.”
Ivy’s eyes widened. She turned to Caleb. “Oh no,” she muttered. “Here we go again.”
Caleb closed his eyes briefly. Not enough time had passed since Miss Hogspeth’s visit. Now it seemed another might be following in her wake.
The woman stepped farther into the office. “My name is Cordelia Finch, and I’d like to become a mail-order bride, if it’s not too much trouble.”
All three sisters blinked.
“Well, of course it’s no trouble, dear,” Margaret said. “It’s what we do. Come in, come in.” She motioned to a chair. “Have a seat. Would you like some tea?”
“Yes, thank you,” Miss Finch said, crossing the room. Once seated, she reached into her reticule and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
Margaret’s eyes fixed on it. “What’s that, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Not at all. It’s my list, of course,” Miss Finch said brightly.
Augusta’s brow arched. “List?”
“Yes, you see, I live with my widowed Aunt Esmeralda, and well… both of us are…” She hesitated. “How should I put this? Spinsters, of course. Well, she’s a widow, which isn’t the same thing, is it?”
Ivy and Caleb exchanged identical looks of confusion as the woman rambled on.
“If I may ask,” Ivy said gently. “How old are you, Miss Finch?”
“Twenty-four,” she said with a sigh. “And clearly on the shelf.” She wrung her hands in her lap.
“Here you are, dear,” Margaret said, offering a cup and saucer. “Some nice hot tea will help.”
“Thank you ever so much,” Miss Finch said, accepting them. “Cream and sugar?”
“Right here,” Caleb said, bringing the bowl over.
“Tell us more about yourself,” Augusta said.
“As I mentioned, I live with my aunt. She has a lovely home and has taken very good care of me and I of her.”
“How long have you lived with her?” Caleb asked.
“Since I was ten, I believe.”
“Fourteen years,” Josie said. “And in all that time, no suitors?”
“Oh, I had plenty,” Miss Finch said. “But Aunt Esmeralda is a fidgety thing with lofty ideas about the sort of man I should marry.” She shook her head. “None were ever good enough for her.”
“So you’ve decided to take matters into your own hands and become a mail-order bride?” Caleb asked.
“Oh no,” Miss Finch said. “It’s because Aunt Esmeralda has herself a suitor.
He proposed, and now they’re getting married and moving to New York.
” She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes.
“He doesn’t want me around. He says I need to become a mail-order bride and get married right away. So here I am.” She delicately sniffed.
Ivy gasped. “They’re throwing you out?” She snapped her mouth shut. “I mean, displacing you?”
“You were right the first time,” Miss Finch said, dabbing again. She tucked the handkerchief back into her reticule and took another sip of tea. “This is quite good.” A tear slipped down one cheek as she smiled at them.
“Oh, you poor thing,” Ivy said, unable to stop herself.
“It is what it is,” Miss Finch replied calmly. “So I made a list of what I need in a husband. After all, if a man cannot provide these things, it’s kinder not to waste his time.” She handed the paper to Ivy. “I was hoping you could find me such a man.”
Ivy scanned the list and read the first item. “A well-maintained, permanent residence.”
“Oh yes, that’s very important,” Cordelia said. “Aunt Esmeralda and I have moved so often these past few years that it’s unsettled me.”
Ivy smiled faintly and continued reading.
“A man with sufficient income.” She glanced up, then read on.
“Whose accounts are never discussed at the dinner table. Household expenses should be anticipated, not argued over. He must have a home large enough to allow me privacy. Separate sitting areas for peace, and quiet.” She looked around the room. “Well… some of this is reasonable.”
“Only some?” Miss Finch gasped. “I find all of it quite reasonable. I don’t see why you wouldn’t.”
“Continue,” Caleb said mildly.
Ivy cleared her throat. “I require a cook, or at least the means to employ one, as I’m sensitive to lingering odors.
” She paused, then read on. “A housekeeper, even if part-time, and an expectation that domestic matters are handled smoothly.” Ivy frowned.
With all the moving Miss Finch had mentioned, had she ever managed a household herself, or had staff always done it?
She took a breath. “I also require a predictable daily schedule. Meals served at regular hours. Sundays reserved for church and rest, as the Good Book says. And absolutely no sudden relocations, expansions, or experiments in housing.”
“Like livin’ in a shack,” Teddy piped up.
“A shack?” Miss Finch gasped, clutching her chest. “Oh, dear me!”
“That’s quite the list,” Caleb said, leaning back. “Anything else?”
Ivy nodded. “A husband who doesn’t drink to excess, nor raise his voice, and doesn’t bring his business troubles into the home.” She hesitated. “I also wish for someone who prefers calm conversation and values peace over arguments.” She set the paper down. “There’s more, but I hesitate to read it.”
“Is it that bad?” Teddy asked, eyes wide. She eyed the list on the desk, clearly itching to see it.
Ivy gave a small nod.
Teddy grabbed it. “There should be no immediate relatives,” she read slowly, sounding out a few words. “That require care within the home. I know that sounds selfish, but I do best in quiet houses.” She looked up. “Well, at least you’re honest.”
Teddy continued. “I do not wish to care for parents, unruly siblings, younger relations, or adult children returning home after scandal.” Teddy let the list fall into her lap.
“Well. That just about covers every inconvenience there is. Except maybe loss of work, destitution, starvation, or finding yourself out on the street.”
Miss Finch gasped and fanned herself with a hand, nearly dropping her teacup. “Oh dear, oh dear! Don’t say such awful things.”
Teddy shrugged. “Take it from me, it can happen.”
Ivy reached over and gently patted Teddy’s shoulder, then spoke to Miss Finch. “She doesn’t mean it unkindly. She’s only saying it because she’s experienced…” She hesitated.
“Go on,” Teddy said. “I don’t mind.”
“Miss Finch,” Caleb said gently, “Teddy has experienced some of those things. That’s why she spoke as she did. Bad things happen to good people; it’s the world we live in.”
Miss Finch’s gaze softened as she looked at Teddy. “I’m sorry those things happened to you. That must have been terribly difficult. I do hope things are better for you now.”
“Oh, they will be,” Teddy said. “Once I get to Apple Blossom.”
“Where is that?” Miss Finch asked.
“In the Montana Territory,” Teddy said, studying her fingernails. “I’m to marry a rancher. That is, if he don’t send me back.”
“Send you back?!” Miss Finch went pale. “Men do that?”
“No, dear,” Margaret said soothingly. “We’ve never had anyone sent back in all our years of business.”
Miss Finch stopped fanning herself. “Well. That’s a relief.”
“With a list like that,” Augusta said dryly, taking the paper from Teddy. “We might get our first.”
Miss Finch gasped again as Augusta met Caleb’s eyes.
“We must determine whether you’re a good fit for the Sisters’ Mail-Order Bride Company,” Augusta said evenly. “We do have several open applications, but that does not guarantee we can find you a suitable match. Especially with expectations such as these.”
“Can I help it if I have expectations?” Miss Finch said with a huff.
“Expectations are one thing, my dear,” Augusta replied. “Outrageous ones are another.”
“I see nothing outrageous about wanting a quiet life with a man of means. He doesn’t need to be rich, only solidly solvent.”
Ivy smiled in understanding. “She has a point. But what does that look like to you, Miss Finch?” She gestured gently.
“For some women, it means servants and grandeur. For others,” she glanced at Teddy.
“It means a man who works the land, keeps a roof overhead, food on the table, and still knows how to laugh.”
Teddy smiled shyly and looked away.
Ivy smiled too. She understood Teddy well enough now. A simple life. Honest work. And if love followed, so much the better.
“What I’m saying, Miss Finch,” Ivy continued, “is that happiness comes in many forms. There are things you can reasonably expect from a good man. And there are things he will expect from you.” She looked to Caleb. “Isn’t that right?”
Caleb nodded. “Indeed. May I see Miss Finch’s list?”
Augusta handed it to him, leaning closer. “May I remind you, that this is not Miss Hogspeth.”
“No,” Caleb said quietly, scanning the page. “But it is someone who needs a lesson in men.”