Chapter Twenty-Six
Their Sabbath, followed by the beginning of the week, came and went at an even faster clip than the prior.
Roger’s hours were filled to the brim. Between his household chores and his slow but steady progress on both his study and that of the children, he’d taken his governess advertisement to the Great Synagogue and found himself joining the minyan.
The prayers were not in the tunes he remembered, and reciting the Aleinu sans an entire line was disconcerting.
However, the men were not odious, though they were a touch overenthusiastic in their speech.
Moreover, none remarked upon his assuredly clear lack of knowledge and merely appeared content by his presence—even happy.
All and all he did not hate it and would likely not mind hiring a governess from that side. Especially if he could find one as clever as say, Miss Adler.
Not that anyone was as clever as Miss Adler. But he’d concede that her side of the community might include others suitable to serve as a governess. If his children needed some additional tutelage in comportment, he could find a supplement.
Or he could continue teaching them himself, perhaps with Miss Teres’s assistance.
After all, it was clear he’d developed a much deeper rapport and understanding of his children these past few weeks, and he was loath to give it completely up, even if further duty called.
Besides, including Miss Teres would benefit her in a similar way, bring her into the family, so to speak.
He needed to find a way to do so posthaste, as a formal betrothal between them was nigh.
This was made clear by the now completely finished—albeit still empty as transport, delivery, and placement of the old and new furnishing and goods was still required—Adler house he was staring up at.
It had been done with impressive speed. He’d need to add a generous gratuity to the vendors’ bills.
It wasn’t that the completion was unexpected. The situation of the past month had always been temporary, and while he’d been surprised and perhaps even learned a few lessons, it was not a reality in which he could live forever.
Yes, time marched on, and soon he would embark upon a new chapter of life, one that would be better than the previous one.
For his children’s sakes, the community’s sake, and his own.
The time with Miss Adler almost certainly would play a part in that, and for that he would be grateful all his days.
As he turned to go, an unfortunately now familiar form blocked his path.
“Hello, Berab,” his least favorite custodian said, a distinct note of displeasure in the man’s voice as he nearly spit his name.
“Hello, Ellenberg,” he returned, straightening to emphasize the stark differences in their heights, one thing he still had over the upstart who’d stolen his seat.
“I hear a mazel tov is in order.” The man kicked a now visible cobblestone with the toe of his boot.
“I didn’t build it myself, but I’m skilled with invoices.” He glanced back at the house.
The other man rolled his eyes. “I meant your upcoming wedding to Teres’s daughter.”
This was the trouble with a community like theirs. Gossip spread faster than feathers.
“Sol told you,” he stated more than asked.
“He’s happy for you. And so am I,” Ellenberg added after a beat. “I truly didn’t know how much you craved that seat.” The self-righteousness could choke a horse.
Ugh, the man was awful. Sol’s idea of studying together would never work. He’d just have to find another tutor with the time to assist him because there was no way.
“At least you’re honest,” Roger said.
“Is it not true?” The man folded his arms across his chest.
“I’m not ashamed of what I want,” Roger declared, matching the former custodian’s stance—but with much more elegance. “Over the years I’ve worked very hard to continue to develop my skills so I can offer the community the best leadership moving forward. It shall be an honor to serve.”
“And Miss Teres?” Ellenberg asked.
“Has indicated a similar sense of duty, as well as a like-mindedness about our future.” More or less.
It would be like what he’d had with Lucy—with a few, subtle shifts in lifestyle regarding the children, to which she’d likely not object once properly discussed.
He cleared his throat. “Not all marriages start as garden trysts,” he added rather triumphantly, proving that he was not the only one who could access gossip.
“More like the library,” Ellenberg said after a pause.
Roger started. What did the man say? No. No. He couldn’t have found about the last festival, about how he and Rebecca had—
“Pardon?” he asked, working not to gasp.
The man had the nerve to smirk. “You don’t know everything, do you?” he asked in a rather singsong tone, quite unlike his usual seriousness. “You should’ve been paying better attention at the balls.”
Roger gazed at Ellenberg once more, working to determine whether he was referring to the encounter between him and Rebecca or his own with his now wife. He finally gave up, as nothing good could come from probing the matter further. He cleared his throat.
“Regardless, if we are married—as the betrothal is not finalized—Miss Teres shall be happy,” he explained. “I’m a good husband, Ellenberg.” Or he would be this time. No matter what.
“As with everything in my life, when a job is mine, I see that it’s done,” he continued. “To spectacular results.” He waved a hand toward the house as an example.
However, he could not stop picturing Rebecca’s reaction to the building as it was now.
One that included her improperly throwing her arms around his neck and him equally improperly swinging her around.
It would be completely out of character for both of them and quite unlikely to happen.
Not that he’d truly want such in the first place.
A pleasant “thank you” would suffice, as by that point there’d be nothing left to say.
Like they’d agreed. Which was for the best. He forced himself to return to Ellenberg and the conversation.
“Impressive, indeed,” the man said, his voice oddly pensive, troubling certainly, especially as such activity would have to be taxing on someone like the custodian.
Roger opened his mouth to make a similar quip, despite its slight meanness, but Ellenberg cleared his throat.
“Well, may you both live to one hundred and twenty.”
“Thank you,” Roger said, returning the tip of his hat and walking home, disquieted for reasons he could not quite conceive.
The feeling did not dissipate for the remainder of the morning and continued even as he trotted down the staircase ready for lunch, as a commotion rang through the hall.
“Aunt Nina,” Fannie, who he’d not even known was behind him, cried, practically knocking him down as she ran toward the entryway, where Lopez was assisting his sister-in-law with her pelisse.
“Hello, darling,” she said, bending to kiss his daughter on the cheek. “How has your week been? I heard a nasty rumor about your father acting as your governess.”
“It’s true.” It was Michael who spoke, running to the woman and wrapping his small arms around her skirts as if he hadn’t seen her in months.
“He hasn’t quit or been sacked yet,” Fannie informed her, swishing from side to side, then bending down, cupping her hands around her mouth, and adding in a stage whisper, “But I might have to take matters in my own hands if he starts on about triangles again.”
Roger cleared his throat as he approached. “Your papa believes that you need to learn your maths before you learn how to take over the world.”
“Don’t even joke about such things, or they’ll believe we’re actually trying,” Nina tutted. She gave him tight embrace that he only half stiffened under. “Or worse, succeeding.” She winked.
“Is David with you?” he asked, glancing around.
“He’s still gathering papers from the carriage,” she explained. “He wants to disc—” She stopped, staring at something behind his head. “Miss Adler!”
They all turned to find Rebecca standing in the doorway, her eyes wide, as if she were a mouse who’d wandered into a den of cats and been caught.
Without even thinking, Roger moved to Rebecca’s side even as Nina strode toward her.
“It’s so lovely seeing you again. Thank you for your assistance. We received everything promptly and are more than satisfied,” his sister-in-law stated.
Roger blinked at her. What was she referring to?
“You’re quite welcome,” Rebecca stammered, her eyes large behind her spectacles, her cheeks slightly pinkened.
“What a lovely gown,” Nina continued as she inspected the other woman’s costuming. “It’s cut absolutely perfectly. However, you might want to add a few bracelets and a neck—”
“Not everyone desires to be bejeweled from head to toe, Nina,” his brother said, as he entered the room while adjusting the small black leather kippah on his head.
“Though if that’s a hint as to what you’d like for your birthday this year, duly noted.
” He gave his wife a kiss on the cheek. “No one wears them better than you.”
Striding further into the room, David added, “Good to see you again, Miss Adler.” He plopped himself down on a seat, crossing one leg over the other motioning to his wife to join him.
“You as well, Mr. Berab,” Rebecca said, giving him a nod as well.
“To what do I owe this visit?” Roger asked, glancing between his two relations.
“We need to discuss the terms,” David said, holding up a ream of paper.
What terms? Roger stared at him for a moment.
“For the bridal contract,” Nina said, glancing between him and his brother.
Ah yes. Time really was speeding, was it not?
“What’s a bridal contract?” Michael asked, swinging his legs.
“An agreement for a new wife,” Fannie told him knowingly. “Father is going to marry Miss Teres, and she’s to live with us, remember?”
“Oh,” his son said. “I remember. When is she coming?”
“In about two weeks,” David told them. “At least if we can all come to an agreement after dinner tonight.”
Roger frowned. Tonight? The dinner was tonight? No, it couldn’t be. The dinner was supposed to be on the twenty-first of February and it was—right. That was today. It had been more than five weeks since he and Teres had first spoken.
Well, then it was that night. Time to step into the future in earnest. Roger turned back to his children. “Tonight we’re going to have a special meal at Aunt Nina and Uncle David’s home where you’ll meet Miss Teres.”
“Who I am sure you’ll love,” Rebecca added, stepping toward the children. “As you might recall, I met her. She’s very clever and quite beautiful,” she continued. “She has two brothers, so I’m sure she knows all sorts of entertaining stories and games.”
“She’s a very spirited girl,” Nina continued. “Sofia said she’s known to be quite skilled at whist.”
“Or at least in persuading others to yield to her victory,” David muttered.
Roger glanced at his brother.
“Sofia did not say that.” Nina gave her husband a sharp look.
“You’re correct, my dear. She did not. I was placing my own gloss on her words,” his brother affirmed, lowering his voice once more. “A more generous one to Miss Teres and her character.”
There was an odd choking sound from his sister-in-law. “Pardon me, there was dust in the carriage.” She tapped a hand to her chest.
“But your cousin Sofia enjoys Miss Teres’s company,” Roger reminded his children as he returned to the conversation.
“Really?” It was Michael who asked the question with a touch of skepticism.
“They’ve been acquainted with each other their whole lives,” Nina said with a hasty nod.
“Well, almost, as Sofia was born a year prior,” David amended. Roger balled his fist. What was the matter with his brother?
It was as if he didn’t approve—not that he approved of much. But still, at their ages, one would’ve thought he’d give him the courtesy of an honest discussion on the matter instead of attempting to undermine his well-orchestrated plan.
“She’s really going to marry Father?” Michael asked, his voice rather incredulous.
“Father is a man,” Fannie explained to him, her tone rather imperious. “They’re able to reproduce at a much older age than women, so they often seek younger mates.”
Roger’s mouth might have fallen open. His brother’s most certainly did.
Roger glanced at Rebecca, who was staring at the floor, her lips pressed tightly together and her face flushed, as if she was holding back laughter. His sister-in-law, though, he noted, was worse, barely containing her reaction.
Ridiculous. And while he would not have relayed matters in quite the way Fannie had—he’d need to speak to her about appropriate topics for public consumption—what his daughter said was true.
Not to mention that many men of the ton married in their early thirties for the first time, while they considered women over twenty-five “on the shelf,” so if one thought about it, what he was doing was rather fashionable with the set who held their political fates in their hands, whether he liked it or not.
Moreover, it would be no true deviation from their own customs. At least it was not against any of their laws and thus perfectly reasonable.
“I believe you shall find Miss Teres an excellent addition to the household if you give her a fair chance,” he told his children. “Can you do that for me?”
Glancing at each other first, they both nodded. It was not the most enthusiastic acquiescence, though it would do. Hopefully, they would be fair like they had been with Rebecca.
“Good.” He smiled. “Now go find Rachel and get ready for dinner,” he told them.
However, before they reached the staircase, Fannie paused and turned back. “Are you coming as well?” she asked Rebecca. “To dinner, I mean. Uncle David and Aunt Nina always have the best food. Not just on the Sabbath.”
Rebecca glanced first at Roger and then back at his daughter, her expression unreadable.
“I think it would be easier if I stayed here,” she told Fannie. “I might receive a call. But perhaps you’ll tell me about it when you return?”
Fannie pouted. “All right.” She turned and skipped out of the room, her brother at her heels.
“We should all get ready as well,” Nina said, rising. Lopez rushed forward with her and David’s coats. She turned to Rebecca. “I know you said you had patients to which to attend, but please, if you find yourself available, we would be honored to have you to our house again.”
“Thank you for the invitation, Mrs. Berab,” Rebecca said.
“But I think it’s important for such matters to involve only family.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find Lopez.
He’d mentioned he had an update regarding the logistics of furnishing my family’s home.
” With that, she turned and exited toward the back of the house.
“Behave yourself,” David whispered in Roger’s ear, then slipped out the door with his wife before Roger could tell them that he was the Berab they should worry about least in that regard.