Chapter Seventeen #2
Maeve’s face flushed with predictable heat. “I quite like being married to Mr. Nelson.”
“He does seem like a sweet sort and keeps his word, too.” Mrs. Allston lowered her voice. “Haven’t seen hide nor hair of the missus since she arrived, thank goodness.”
“Oh, that’s very good news indeed.”
“Is she treating you all right?”
Maeve glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were still alone. “She mostly ignores me, but I don’t delude myself into thinking that’ll last forever. It’s only because of the duke and duchess that she’s tolerating me at the moment.”
“Perhaps she also sees that her son has tender feelings for you.”
“I highly doubt she cares about such pedestrian things as feelings.”
Mrs. Allston cut a piece of chocolate cake and slid it across the counter to Maeve. “This’ll make what ails you better.”
“You know me too well, Mrs. Allston.”
The older woman smiled and served up tea for both of them.
“How’s the new housekeeper working out?” Maeve asked between bites.
“She’s no Maeve Brown, but she’ll do.”
Maeve took pleasure in the compliment. “I so appreciate your many kindnesses to me, Mrs. Allston. I’m sure you’ve been shocked at times . . .”
Mrs. Allston reached across the counter to cover Maeve’s hand with her work-roughened hand. “I can see that you and Mr. Nelson are happy, and it makes me happy to see good people get what they deserve.”
“Thank you,” Maeve said softly.
She would never know what she’d done to deserve Aubrey Nelson, but she would be thankful for him for the rest of her days, no matter what became of them.
After another week of morning carriage rides, trips to the Casino and Bailey’s Beach, regular stops at the Worth boutique to see what had arrived from New York, luncheons aboard steamships in the harbor, polo matches, afternoon teas and long, leisurely dinners filled with laughter and teasing, Maeve had begun to relax somewhat.
As Aubrey had predicted, the society doyennes were polite to her because everywhere she went, Catherine and Madeleine were with her—and they and the men from England were the toast of the summer season.
Everyone wanted an audience with the duke and duchess, and if they had to go through a lowly Irish housekeeper who’d “married up,” then so be it.
To her amazement, she’d found herself actually enjoying the social interactions and meeting new and interesting people.
She’d expected the Knickerbocker set to be nothing but snobs, and there were plenty of those, but among them were also people who had amazing stories to tell of travel and adventure and discovery.
Sir Walter Green, a dear friend of the duke’s, had come for dinner two nights ago and had entertained them with stories of his archaeological dig in Africa that had yielded priceless artifacts from an ancient civilization.
Derek had partially funded the expedition and had shared in Green’s glory upon his victorious return from the Dark Continent.
Both men were also friends and supporters of the Wright brothers, from Dayton, Ohio, who many believed were on the verge of accomplishing manned flight.
The dizzying speed of advancement, invention and commerce made for interesting and lively conversation around the dinner table.
Maeve enjoyed listening to the various points of view and the opinions about President Roosevelt and his recent twenty-five-state tour that took him out west on the Elysian, a seventy-foot railway car from which he made speeches along the way.
“He’s still making a case for last year’s Reclamation Act,” Aubrey said, noting the benefits to ranchers and farmers in the West who would share in the cost of building the irrigation systems called for in the act.
“I think it’s brilliant the way he’s convinced those who will benefit most from bringing in the water to invest in the process. ”
“And in turn, we will all benefit by an improved food supply,” Aurora said.
“Not to mention, Nelson Industrial will benefit from increased demand for our refrigeration cars,” Alfie noted. He and Anderson had arrived two days earlier to spend time with their ailing father.
“However,” Anderson Junior said, “he is increasing scrutiny of big business.” The family called him Junior, but only when his father was present.
He and Alfie were dark-haired and handsome like Aubrey, but in Maeve's opinion, her husband was the most handsome of the three brothers.
She could look at him all day and never get tired of the sight of him.
“Only in how it affects regular citizens,” Aubrey said. “I don’t believe he’s looking to limit commerce, but more to make business responsible to their communities, which is a fair ask.”
“He is so much bluster,” Eliza said in her haughty British accent. “So uncouth and uncultured.”
“People like him because he’s real, Mother,” Aubrey said.
“The British find him to be an interesting character,” Derek said. “A man of the people.”
“They say he has charisma and is reshaping the presidency for the modern times,” Alfie said.
Eliza dismissed their comments with a roll of her eyes. “He’s everything America and Americans are known for—boorish, uncivilized, vulgar.”
“You’re aware, Mother, that your husband and seven children are Americans, aren’t you?” Anderson asked.
“I’m painfully aware of that,” Eliza said.
“America has been very good to our family,” Alfie said. “We should be counting our blessings.”
“Hear, hear,” Aubrey said, earning a glare from his mother.
Under the table he reached for Maeve’s hand and linked their fingers, giving a gentle squeeze that set off flutters inside her.
How he did that so effortlessly was a source of continuing fascination for her as no other man had ever had such an effect on her.
She sent him a warm smile that he returned and the connection between them crackled like a radio seeking reception.
When he looked away to reply to his sister, Maeve caught Eliza staring at her with abject hatred.
Maeve’s entire body went cold in the second her gaze was trapped in her mother-in-law’s evil net.
She actually shivered.
“Are you all right, my dear?” Aubrey asked.
“I’m feeling a little off, actually. I think I’ll retire early if you don’t mind.”
“Of course I don’t mind.” He kissed the back of her hand. “I’ll be up to check on you shortly.”
“Good night, everyone.” Maeve made a hasty retreat and then hated herself for being so easily cowed by Eliza.
She should’ve stayed and pretended to be unbothered by the other woman’s hatefulness.
Had Aubrey or anyone else seen the way she’d looked at Maeve?
Probably not, because Eliza was nothing but careful in how she went about keeping her displeasure toward Maeve hidden from the others.
But Maeve saw it on a daily basis, and it was becoming ever more difficult to pretend that it didn’t bother her.
She kept telling herself she only had to survive the latter half of July and August. After that, she and Aubrey would go to New York where they would live alone in his town house without his extended family underfoot.
But with six more weeks in Newport to get through, she had cause to wonder how she would endure the other woman’s hatefulness. If only she too had been born into an aristocratic family rather than the middle class, maybe Eliza could swallow her revulsion and tolerate her new daughter-in-law.
That, however, was a pipe dream. The woman would never accept her and was probably biding her time until she found a way to convince Aubrey that he’d be better off without Maeve.
She ached at the thought of him rejecting her, of him choosing his mother over her, which of course he would do.
She was his mother. She wanted the best for him, and Maeve didn’t come close to meeting Eliza’s exacting expectations.
After changing into one of the silk nightgowns and matching robes Aubrey had bought for her, Maeve curled up in the window seat, which had become one of her favorite spots in the enormous house.
The cozy corner reminded Maeve of her bedroom at home in Ireland, which had also included a window seat.
Here she could look out over the vast ocean, lit by moonbeams, and wonder about her family back home in Dingle.
Had Aoife and her husband Thomas succeeded in conceiving the child they wanted so badly?
Had Bridget delivered her third baby, and had her husband’s mother recovered from her recent surgery?
Niamh would have graduated from school last month and would be looking for a job.
How, Maeve wondered, was her father’s gout and the arthritis in her mother’s knee that pained her so?
Tears ran down her face as she stared out into the darkness.
The ones she loved were on the other side of that vast ocean, but they might’ve been a million miles away.
She missed them all terribly, as well as her familiar routine of helping to care for the neighbor’s children, checking in on several elderly relatives and working as needed at the bank her father owned.
It had been a small but satisfying life that had changed forever the day her father informed her that he’d given Mr. Farthington permission to court her.
She cringed at that memory, the first time her beloved father had ever asked her to consider the suit of a man.
Prior to that, she had been courted by several of the boys she’d grown up with, but never by anyone she didn’t know personally.
For a while, she had thought she would marry her dear friend Padraig.
But then he had taken his own life after realizing he was attracted to men, not women.
His death had shaken her to her core, especially when people had briefly suspected her of having something to do with it.
Only when one of his sisters had publicly speculated on the possible reason for his death did the gossip surrounding Maeve come to an end.
From the first time she’d met Farthington, shortly after Padraig’s death, she’d been dazzled by the handsome, charismatic older man.
Underneath his shiny veneer, however, she’d sensed a dark side that he kept well hidden.
She’d tried to tell her father that, but he’d been so excited by the prospect of landing the Farthington family business for the bank that he’d been deaf to her concerns.
What he must think of her now. A sob escaped from her tightly clenched lips, and then Aubrey was there, kneeling beside her and drawing her into his warm embrace.
“My darling, whatever is the matter?”
“I’m feeling terribly homesick.”
“Oh, my poor sweet.” He rubbed her back soothingly. “I’m sure your homesickness is made more difficult being surrounded by Nelsons.”
“Maybe a little. I do enjoy your family though.”
“They enjoy you, too.”
“They do?”
“Of course they do. My sisters think you’re delightful.”
That was news to her. While the Nelson sisters were never rude or dismissive the way their mother was, they weren’t overly friendly either.
They were, at best, polite and cordial. Without Catherine and Madeleine in her daily life, Maeve would feel truly lost in a sea of strangers with varying agendas. “They said as much?”
“Adele said she quite enjoys your company, and Alora noted how wonderful you are with the children.”
“I adore them.”
He wiped away her tears. “They adore you right back. James asked me earlier when you would play croquet with them again.”
“They are far too good for me. I don’t stand a chance.”
“I think they enjoyed finally finding an adult they could beat.”
Maeve laughed, which she wouldn’t have thought possible a few minutes ago.
Leave it to Aubrey to make her feel better.
She caressed his face, running her fingers over the rough late-day whiskers on his jaw while he gazed at her with the wild hunger she’d come to expect from him.
“You’re very good at making me feel better. ”
“I never want you to be sad. You should’ve come to find me.”
“It came on all of a sudden, and I knew you were enjoying time with your friends.”
“Nothing is more important to me than my beautiful wife.” He slid his arms under her, picked her up and carried her to bed. After helping her out of her robe and gown, he shed his own clothes and climbed in with her.
“You’re taking an early night this evening.” He often sat up with Derek, Simon and Justin until long after midnight.
“I came up to tell you some very big news. After dinner, we were playing billiards when Justin suddenly remembered where he had heard Farthington’s name before.”