The Lily of the West Page 4

  “Miss Haroney.” Captain Joshua Fisher held out his hand. “Perhaps you might care for some breakfast?”

  CHAPTER 4

  St. Louis, Missouri, May 1869

  Spring was beautiful in St. Louis. I watched the play of sunlight and leaves on the white ceiling and walls of my tiny room, enjoying the peace and quiet before the day started at St. Joseph’s Academy. The good sisters of Carondelet despised sloth, and I was certain daydreaming in bed qualified for that heinous sin. I stretched my arms over my head and closed my eyes, the soft white cotton of my nightgown stretching over my full breasts and hips. I was a woman grown, and, fittingly, this would be my last day here. Today was graduation day, a milestone I’d longed for, but one that was tinged with anxiety as well. Now I would make my way in the world, armed with a stellar education from two continents but little else—except the goodwill and charity of Captain Joshua Fisher. He and his wife, Emily, had taken me in and provided everything for me, especially guidance and affection, ever since that morning I’d climbed out of the lifeboat on the Delta Queen. I would be eternally grateful for their kindness.

  As well as taking me under their wings, they had kept in regular correspondence with the Smiths and made visits to Davenport, bearing my small gifts and letters to Wilhelmina and Alexander. Twice last summer I had accompanied Captain Fisher on the Delta Queen and seen for myself that my siblings were fit and well, and all three of us had rejoiced in our reunion. The Smiths were civil to me, and nary a word was said of the missing silver, one thing to their credit. Said silver now rested in a grave below a grassy mound on the Smiths’ property overlooking the Mississippi, sleeping soundly until I might have need of it. Not even Joshua Fisher was aware of its existence.

  What a piece of work is a man, I thought. Hamlet was right, to my mind. In my nineteen years I had glimpsed a fair bit of the best and worst of humanity, and little surprised me—although I had no doubt the world was waiting for me to discover more, and discover it I would. A shiver of anticipation ran through me, and I hugged myself, my skin cool and covered with goose-bumps in the morning chill.

  Three quick knocks in succession sounded against the wall and interrupted my reveries. I heard my name through the thin plaster.

  “Kate? Are you awake?”

  I knocked back three times, and within seconds, my door creaked open, and Rose Melvin scurried across the cold floor, her long white nightgown an exact copy of my own, the sisters’ godly choice. I held out the bedcovers, and she nestled in, her bare feet cold against my warm ones. She hugged me, her brown eyes gleaming with excitement, her tangled dark hair mingling with my own blonde curls on the pillow.

  “This is going to be the best day, ever. No more lessons, no more sisters, no more chapel, chapel, chapel. I will be a society lady, and you’ll be right there beside me, my dearest friend. That will never change.”

  I hugged her back and smiled. “Never, my dear.”

  Rose sat up on one elbow and looked at me, mischief evident in her lovely, heart-shaped face. “I have a surprise, Kate. Guess who’s coming to graduation? My brother, Silas. He’s just back from New York, now finished with dentistry school. I’ve told him all about you.”

  “Oh, have you?” She was relentless. I’d been hearing about this paragon of a brother for two years now, and Rose had plans for us, regardless of the fact we’d never met and most likely would disappoint each other when we did. In fact, young men were the furthest thing from my mind, and at St. Joseph’s they were kept that way, mentally as well as physically. This was a convent school for young ladies, and only twice a year were we allowed to mingle with the opposite sex at two rigidly prescribed dances, when the boys from Sacred Heart were allowed inside our saintly halls. Although the dance was highly anticipated by most of the girls, I was one of the few uninterested in pimply chins, sweaty palms, and stumbling feet, and only too happy to resume my acquaintance with besieged MacBeth, heroic Hamlet, and even the swaggering cowboys and outlaws in the smuggled-in Western romances we avidly read by candlelight. The fantasy was preferable to the reality.

  However, when it came to her brother, Rose was convinced he was the most handsome and charming young gentleman in the world and that I would think so, too. I had stopped protesting long ago, since he wasn’t even in St. Louis, not wanting to dash her hopes. I would never tell her of the aristocratic and dashing princes I’d grown up with, a life now long behind me.

  “Yes, indeed, Miss Haroney. He will be at the ceremony and dinner this evening, so there.”

  Enthused, she threw back the covers and pulled me out of bed. “The day awaits; come on, Kate!”

  Together we stood by the window in the warm sunlight, watching workmen set up white chairs on the lawn. This was going to be a day to remember.

  Twenty-four of us, dressed in our white gowns, stood on the dais behind the Mother Superior, Sister Josephus Maria. We faced rows of our teachers, peers, parents, and friends, arrayed in a vast semicircle, all sitting expectantly on their white wooden chairs on the green lawn of St. Joseph’s Academy. It was a perfect day, sunny and not too warm, with birds singing in the trees and the buzz of bees in the blossoms of the apple trees in the sisters’ nearby orchard a constant thrum. Sister Andrea, sitting at a piano the workmen had wheeled out beside the dais earlier in the day, played solemn Bach as we filed past Mother Superior, each receiving a ribbon-wrapped roll of parchment and her accolade. When it came my turn, I was ready. I walked firmly towards her, the smile on my face threatening to burst into a full-fledged grin.

  “Miss Katherine Haroney. Miss Haroney has come to us from across the sea and has the distinction of being first in our graduating class this year. Congratulations, Katherine,” Sister Josephus Maria said, as I bowed prettily and took the diploma from her hand. I looked out over the crowd. Captain Fisher and Emily waved back at me, and I broke with gentility and waved the scroll over my head, the grin winning out. Sister Josephus Maria’s eyes twinkled, and she waved me on my way to a seat on the front row of chairs with the other girls. When Rose’s time came, I waved at her, but she smiled demurely and stepped down to her seat behind me, poking me and giggling as she did.

  In a few more moments the ceremony was over, and we all broke ranks, heading for our families and loved ones. Captain Fisher picked me up in a bear hug and swung me around, the late afternoon sun glinting on his brass buttons.

  “Kate, I’m so proud of you,” he said and kissed me heartily on the cheek. “I knew you could do anything you set your mind to since the first time I saw you carry in that chicken fricassee.”

  Emily Fisher hugged me close, her lemon verbena perfume a familiar delight. “Darling girl, you are such a treasure to us.”

  I hugged her back. Emily was a tiny woman, her head barely reaching my shoulder, but she was the engine that drove Joshua Fisher, their family, and their world, and masterfully so. Their two sons, Sam and Adam, aged ten and twelve respectively, tugged at my sleeve.

  “Kate, Kate, you look beautiful,” Sam said fervently, and I kissed him on his forehead.

  “Thank you, kind sir,” I said. “That is precisely what a lady wants to hear on important days.” He blushed while Adam shook my hand.

  “Congratulations on your graduation, Kate,” he said solemnly in his most grown-up manner. I inclined my head and then pulled him to me for a hug, and Sam as well, all of us laughing, even their parents. I kissed the boys and watched with amusement as Adam’s cheeks turned as red as his jaunty tie.

  The boys had become like brothers to me during my times home from school in the last two years, and they were wonderful children. We’d made snowmen, fished in the river, and run like wild things on the grounds of the Fishers’ house overlooking the Mississippi. I’d taught them how to dance and do math, and they’d taught me how to catch frogs, make a slingshot, kindle a fire, and ride horses without a saddle, among many other things.

  “We’ve got a celebration dinner planned at the River Palace Hotel,” Emily said
, putting her arm through mine, the white ostrich feathers bobbing on her elegant hat, “with a few of the other families and graduates.”

  We set off across the lawn, amid the excited voices of a hundred other people, and before I knew it, we’d stopped beside the Melvins, where Rose gave a shriek and hugged me, her cheeks pink with excitement.

  “Kate! We’re graduates! Can you believe it?”

  Her parents, the sedate Richard and Katherine Melvin, nodded and said hello to Captain Fisher and Emily. A tall young man stood beside them, his body turned back towards the chattering crowd, his gray waistcoat an admirable fit.

  “Silas, I want to introduce you to my best friend, Kate,” Rose said, grinning in great satisfaction. “She’s been dying to meet you.”

  I wanted to kick her in the shins, but then the man turned around, smiled, and took my hand. My heart stuttered so in my chest I thought everyone could hear, but no one seemed to notice.

  He had the same lively brown eyes as his sister, the beauty tempered by a masculine chin and strong nose, and when he smiled down at me, his longish hair fell across his forehead.

  His smile faded as his gaze intensified, and it seemed we were the only two people on that vast lawn, the voices stilled and the shadowed sunlight glowing only for us. I don’t remember dropping his hand or what anyone said for a while, but the next thing I do remember clearly is sitting at a white linen–covered table at the River Palace Hotel—across the table from Silas Melvin. Amid the laughter and chatter of twenty other people and the discreet clamor of china and silver, it was the look in Silas Melvin’s eyes that captured my attention.

  “So, Kate, what plans have you made for the future, young lady?”

  Richard Melvin’s voice boomed down the table and effectively brought me into the moment—one of those ill-timed and awkward moments when it seemed all conversation had halted. I gazed back at Rose and Silas’s father, his eyes inquisitive in his well-fed face.

  “Teaching, sir. I believe I have something to offer in that regard.” I have no idea what made me say that. I hadn’t had a thought about teaching anyone, but I didn’t think “I don’t know” or “adventuress” would have been quite the right response.

  He nodded thoughtfully, and conversation resumed. Joshua Fisher caught my eye and winked, and Emily smiled, eyes on her Yorkshire pudding.

  Rose, sitting beside me, nudged me with her elbow. “Don’t mind Daddy, Kate. He sees how captivated Silas is with you, and he’s just trying to find out more about you. He’s a peach, really.”

  I sincerely doubted that, and from the disdainful looks the tautly corseted Mrs. Melvin was casting at me, she was of the same mind as her husband.

  “Miss Haroney, I must say teaching is a most respected profession, well suited to an educated young lady.” Silas Melvin’s deep tone carried well, and heads nodded in agreement. His eyes met mine across the table, and I could see the laughter in them, while Rose squeezed my hand.

  “So I have been told, Mr. Melvin,” I murmured, “so I have been told.”

  “Cannonball!”

  Adam was true to his word as he careened into the water, causing Sam’s face to be obscured by the splashing water, and some drops even reached me on the shore.

  “No fair,” Sam managed, tossing back his hair and making for dry land so he could have a chance to retaliate.

  The quiet cove on the river was perfect for swimming, a serene idyll in the fast-flowing rush of the Mississippi, and the huge old elm that reached out over the water sported equally perfect low-hanging limbs for jumping into the water. We had been coming down here every summer since I’d been with the Fishers, and I’d always taken as much advantage as the boys when it came to swimming. Officially their chaperone and swimming teacher, I’d always shuck down to my drawers and camisole and jump in with them. After all, you can’t teach people how to swim unless you’re in the water with them, and Emily had never said a word about modesty or proper behavior, as I knew she wouldn’t.

  The St. Louis spring had passed into summer, and the rising temperatures and opening leaves had been a bellwether of my own emotions. Every time I thought about Silas Melvin, things seemed to warm up. I thought about him day and night, and even now, watching the boys play, he wound through every conscious thought like a wisp of silk threading its way through a ribbon. He had come to call almost every day. We had sat in the parlor, walked through the gardens, rode horses in the afternoon, taken tea in myriad locations, and even had dinner at a few of St. Louis’s most elegant restaurants, all very proper and in keeping with the rules of society. But each time his hand brushed mine, or he looked down at me as he pulled out my chair, I felt myself wanting more, and I knew from the way his eyes darkened, he did, too.

  He was coming to take me to the St. Louis Summer Cotillion this evening, and I was trying not to think about it, since the anticipation was almost more than I could bear. Emily and I had worked tirelessly on my ball gown, a confection of pale-yellow silk embroidered with tiny blue flowers and off-the shoulder sleeves. I felt like a princess wearing it and couldn’t wait to see Silas’s reaction. Tonight would be different. For the first time, we would be truly alone, just the two of us.

  Silas was a firm hand with the two matched bays that trotted smartly down the river road to the Fishers’ house. Even at this late hour, the air held a lingering warmth from the day, and the breeze felt good on my face, still flushed from the dancing. My dress had elicited exactly the response I had hoped for, and it had been a magical evening. It was nearing midnight, I thought, as I glanced over at him, his profile etched in the moonlight. He turned, and his lips curved in a smile.

  “Enjoyed the ball, Miss Haroney?”

  I smiled back. “Indeed, Mr. Melvin.” I boldly positioned my gloved hand on his thigh. “And the company.”

  “For a fact, it was most delightful.” He pulled back on the reins and turned the horses into a lane dappled with moonlight by the overhanging tree boughs. We slowed and came to a stop, and he turned to me.

  “It’s too fine an evening to end, don’t you think?” He stepped down from the carriage and held out his hand, which I quickly grasped. I jumped down from the seat, my voluminous skirts a swirl.

  He spoke softly to the horses and tied the reins to a tree trunk, then spread a carriage robe on the soft grass under the trees. We sank down upon it, scarcely noticing its comfort as we were too absorbed in each other. He kissed me then, and I knew this was just the beginning. Our hands moved swiftly, eager to find the secrets hidden within each other’s clothing. Buttons popped free, and my skirts flew. He loomed over me, blocking the moonlight and pressing a warm and welcome weight against my body.

  “Kate, are you sure?”

  “Ah, Silas.” It felt as though every inch of my body was on fire and in him the only quenching. I arched my back and kissed him thoroughly. “I’ve never been so sure.”

  So it was done. A perfect summer night—the moon overhead, virginity lost, real life begun, and no regrets.

  Summer played itself out—hot humid days and nights that afforded a cooling breeze across the river. Sickness descended on St. Louis, as it always did during these months, but we were immune, as were most. Dinners were prepared outside in the cookhouses, ice was at a premium and eagerly awaited by restaurants and housewives alike, and life went on, as always. For me, it was different. I was in love.

  Silas and I spent every moment together we could, snatching our intimate moments after dinners and parties, during the afternoons when most sensible people were taking a rest from the midday heat, and even once early in the morning after sleepless nights for both of us, wracked with longing. We became fearless and careless, consumed by each other.

  Silas’s father was setting up a dental practice for him, and I had talked with several people about a position as governess or teacher, but the future held little interest for either of us, entwined in an immediate enchantment of our own weaving.

  On a crisp but sunny morni
ng in late September, Emily Fisher took my hand and led me outside to the gardens, her skirts brushing softly against the flagstones.

  “Kate, talk to me now.” Her eyes held only the most kindly concern, and I couldn’t hide from them any longer. Emily never dissembled, her soft exterior masking an iron will. There had been too many mornings lately when I had tried to hide the fact that my breakfast came back up almost as soon as I’d eaten it.

  “Will he marry you?”

  Defiance and shame formed a retort on my lips, but my emotions betrayed me, and I burst into tears, clinging to her comforting arms.

  “I haven’t told him.” I felt Emily sigh as she held me close. She patted my back, and I felt, for the first time in months, a peace of a sort.

  “That, my darling, is something we shall have to remedy very soon indeed,” she murmured.

  October rain spattered the windows of St. Joseph’s Cathedral, where I had sat not long ago as a schoolgirl and listened to Mass every morning. The flickering light of the candles barely held back the dark of the approaching autumn night, unseasonably cold for St. Louis. The warmth of the candles and that of the assembled guests released the tangy scent of the chrysanthemums and late asters that bloomed around the altar, scenting our rites. The pews were not full, only the first two rows on the groom’s side filled and a scant three on the bride’s—river captains and their families, long-time friends of the Fishers. My brother and sister had opted to stay in Davenport with their guardians, and, while I was hurt by their absence, I understood somewhat their obvious complacence in their comfortable lives, and besides, the Smiths were not likely to absorb the costs of an outing on my account. Silas gripped my cold hand in his and gently pushed the ivory veil from my face. His smile was as warm as his hand, and he kissed me soundly on the lips.