The Potter's Lady (7 page)

Of course, that would happen only if Ewan set aside his idea to purchase the brickworks. If she could win Laura and Mrs. Woodfield to her side, Ewan would surely change his mind. But first she would need to have the women give up their plans to find her a husband. That might prove more difficult than convincing Ewan to purchase the pottery.

“With a move from Bartlett, I don’t think this is a proper time for me to seek a husband.” Rose allowed her gaze to travel between the two older women. “There may be some perfect fellow living in Grafton.”

Ewan chuckled. “I believe our Rose took a liking to the young man who is Mr. Bancock’s assistant at the pottery works.” He scrunched his right eye together in an exaggerated wink.

“Oh, tell us about him,” Adaira cooed. “Is he quite handsome?”

“What’s his name, Rose? Did he call on you while you were in Grafton?” Ainslee scooted to the edge of the leather carriage seat.

Rose wrinkled her nose and glared at her brother. “I am not interested in Rylan Campbell except as an employee of the pottery works, should you decide it would be a good investment for the family.” She met Ainslee’s inquisitive stare. “No, Mr. Campbell did not call on me while we were in Grafton. And if he’d asked Ewan’s permission to do so, I would have given my regrets.” She inhaled a deep breath. “I do hope we’ve now come to an end of all questions regarding Rylan Campbell.”

Her comment terminated any further questions about Rylan, as they’d arrived at Woodfield Manor. The twins clambered up the front steps of the house while the adults followed behind at a slower pace.

Once inside the front door, Rose turned to Ewan. “Have you decided when we’ll tell Laura and Grandmother Woodfield about the pottery?”

Ewan gestured to the two women. “Ladies, when would you like to hear our report about the pottery and the brickyard?”

Rose didn’t miss the special emphasis he placed on the brickyard, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she waited for Laura or her mother to reply. She hoped they wouldn’t want to wait until after tomorrow’s party.

When they hesitated, Rose inched closer to Laura. “Ewan promised to send word within ten days, so we shouldn’t wait long. Perhaps we could sit down after supper this evening?”

Mrs. Woodfield smiled at her. “My, you are eager, Rose. I’m beginning to think Ewan may be correct in his assumptions about that young man at the pottery.” Before Rose could offer further objection, Mrs. Woodfield continued. “I think there should be plenty of time after supper, don’t you, Laura? We’ve done all we can toward preparations for Rose’s party until tomorrow.”

Laura nodded and looked at her husband. “After supper is fine with me if Ewan doesn’t have any objection.”

“I know better than to object when I’m outnumbered three to one.” He turned toward Rose, his lips curved in a half smile. “I’ll save my objections for when we actually begin our discussion.”

Rose sighed. Had Ewan already made up his mind to purchase the brickyard? She didn’t want to believe her brother would come to a decision before listening to his wife and Mrs. Woodfield. Then again, maybe he believed it would be a simple matter to convince them the brickyard was a better choice. If so, she needed to be prepared. But a visit to the nursery would come first.

Since their trunks hadn’t yet arrived from the depot, Rose set aside all thoughts of unpacking and hurried upstairs to the nursery. The sound of Tessa’s chatter tugged at her heart as she stood in the doorway and watched her creating a small arrangement with her wooden blocks. Pleased by her accomplishment, Tessa clapped her hands before glancing over her shoulder toward her nanny for affirmation. Rather than acknowledging the child’s accomplishment, Beatrice continued with her mending.

“You’ve made a lovely structure with your blocks, Tessa.” Rose strode into the room and dropped to her knees beside the child. “You’re becoming such a big girl.”

Upon hearing “big girl,” Tessa gave a firm nod. “I am big.”

While she continued to interact with Tessa, Rose looked at Beatrice. “Our little Tessa is growing like a weed, isn’t she?”

“I s’pose she is. Nothing surprising ’bout that. They all grow up and cause even more trouble.” She shook her head and jabbed her needle into the torn chemise. “I wish my own mam and da would have stopped at one instead of creating that brood of theirs that runs wild. Glad I am to be away from that noise and ruckus day after day. I’ve had me fill of crying babes, fightin’ boys who think they’re men, and lazy girls who don’t lift a hand to help with the housework.”

Beatrice’s seeming lack of interest in Tessa and her comments regarding children surprised Rose. If she had no interest in caring for a child, why had she begged Ewan for the position? Was it simply to get away from home? Then again, perhaps Beatrice was merely having a bad day. On Rose’s previous visits home, Beatrice had doted on Tessa. No doubt being alone with a small child proved to be taxing day after day. Now that Rose was home, perhaps she could step in to help with Tessa and allow Beatrice some free time, but she’d first gain Laura’s approval. She didn’t want to overstep the minute she arrived home.

“Lots of goings-on downstairs for the past few weeks. Quite a party the missus is planning for you.” Beatrice held up the chemise and sighed when she located another ripped seam. “I’ve stitched this chemise enough times to make a new one.” She looked up at Rose. “Hard to believe we both come over to this country from the same poor conditions.” Her gaze traveled the length of Rose’s figure. “Just look at you—all dressed in finery and educated, whilst here I sit mending the same chemise I’ve been wearing for the last five years and wiping slobber from a babe’s mouth.”

Beatrice’s summation didn’t come as a complete surprise. Most of the relatives Uncle Hugh had brought over from Ireland hadn’t fared well. Mostly because Uncle Hugh had paid them meager wages and insisted they work for him until they’d reimbursed him for their passage to America. Ewan’s attempts to raise their wages had been futile. By putting off signing a partnership agreement with Ewan, Uncle Hugh continued to maintain full control of the money. And, upon his failing health, Aunt Margaret stepped into his position. A few of the relatives had managed to reimburse Uncle Hugh. They moved out of his housing and went to work at the coal mines. The rest continued to live in the company-provided housing and work at the brickyard.

Beatrice knotted and cut her thread. “If your brother hadn’t married into wealth, I’m thinking you’d be wiping snotty noses and washing dirty diapers, just like me.”

In spite of Beatrice’s sharp words, Rose was touched with compassion for the young woman. Beatrice’s assessment was correct: If Ewan hadn’t married Laura Woodfield, he would be drawing paltry wages working at the brickyard, and Aunt Margaret would be controlling their lives. The fact that Laura and Ewan had fallen in love and Laura’s mother had approved of the marriage had changed all of their lives for the better, especially since Uncle Hugh’s illness and death.

“How would you like to attend the party tomorrow evening, Beatrice?” One evening of diversion wouldn’t change the young woman’s station in life, but it would permit her some time to mingle with adults and perhaps enjoy a few dances.

“And what would you think I’d be wearing to your fine party, Miss Rose? My mended skirt and shirtwaist?”

The sarcastic emphasis Beatrice had placed on
Miss
when she addressed her didn’t escape Rose’s attention, but she forced a smile and pressed on. Though she hoped it wasn’t true, Rose knew she might have had some of those same jealous feelings if she were in Beatrice’s position.

“When Tessa takes her nap, come down to my room. We’re almost the same size. I’m sure there are several gowns in my wardrobe that would fit you perfectly. You could choose the one you like best, but there’s one of yellow silk that would be lovely with your red hair and blue eyes.” Rose held her breath, uncertain how her offer would be received.

The tight lines around Beatrice’s lips relaxed, and her eyes softened. “You think the missus would agree? And if she did approve and if your dress fit me, who would look after Tessa while I was at the party?” She shook her head. “Nay. I’m not destined to ever enjoy fancy parties and such.”

“Of course you are. I’m certain one of the twins would be willing to come to the nursery and sit with Tessa. Ainslee has already said she’s not interested in attending the dance. So long as there’s someone here in case Tessa wakes up, I’m certain Laura won’t object.” Rose’s excitement mounted as her idea took shape. Though it was a celebration in her honor, Rose had never been keen on parties. Seeing Beatrice attend would give her pleasure and make the evening more bearable.

Beatrice gave her a slight nod. “So long as you make sure the missus doesn’t think I put you up to this. I can’t be losing my position here.”

The wariness in her tone wasn’t new to Rose. Most of her fellow countrymen possessed a suspicious nature, especially when someone offered something unexpected. Like most immigrants, they’d been let down and betrayed often enough that they were slow to trust. Sadly, many were guilty of the same bad conduct themselves—sometimes directed toward outsiders, but sometimes aimed at their own relatives and neighbors. Rose had seen the behavior enough to understand Beatrice’s fear.

“You can be present when I speak to Laura, if you like.” As soon as she’d made the offer, Rose wanted to pull back the words.

While she wanted to ease Beatrice’s doubts, she now realized that having Beatrice present would place Laura in a difficult position. She silently chastised herself for extending an invitation to Beatrice without first speaking to Laura. Rose’s intentions had been good, but she’d been too impulsive. She could only hope Laura wouldn’t object.

“Nay. You go and ask her and bring me word. I don’t want to be looking her in the eye if she says she doesn’t want the likes of me at her fine party.”

Rose stooped down and gave Tessa a quick kiss on the cheek before she hurried from the room. Guilt knotted in her stomach as she hastened downstairs to the second floor. She should have taken time to defend Laura, should have told Beatrice that Laura would never look down upon her. Instead, she’d hurried down the stairs fearful Beatrice might change her mind and ask to come along while she spoke to Laura.

As Rose approached her bedroom door, Mrs. Woodfield came upstairs. “Did you see Tessa? Hasn’t she grown?”

“She has, indeed.” Rose inhaled a deep breath.

Mrs. Woodfield hesitated a moment. “Don’t forget that we’re going to have our meeting after supper tonight.”

The meeting. If she was going to wage a meaningful argument against the brickyard, she needed to be prepared. Before she took time to speak to Laura about Beatrice, she’d write out her reasons why the pottery would be a better investment for the family. Beatrice would have to wait.

C
onversation during supper consisted of a barrage of questions regarding school and the award Rose had received. Ewan appeared lost in thought while she detailed several different events in which she’d participated, careful to leave out the unhappy incidents. She hoped that the twins would decide to further their education, so she didn’t want to say or do anything to discourage them. Besides, they’d likely attend school together and have each other for encouragement or help. Though the twins disagreed, Rose thought the advantage of having a twin far outweighed any disadvantage.

Mrs. Woodfield dabbed her napkin to her lips. “I believe we should plan a trip to Philadelphia in the future so that we can all see the fabrics you designed, Rose. Wouldn’t it be fun?” She glanced around the table, then gave a slight shake of her head. “I do think it was a terrible oversight they didn’t have the divan upholstered prior to your departure.” She tapped her index finger on the edge of the table. “Perhaps I should write a letter to Muriel Fisk.”

Ainslee leaned forward. “Who’s Muriel Fisk?”

“She’s the director of the school, and I’ve known her for years. I do believe their lack of attention to your winning entry in the contest was a terrible oversight.” Mrs. Woodfield glanced down the table toward Rose. “They should have allowed enough time to display your work prior to the end of the school term.”

The last thing Rose wanted was anyone making a fuss over the award. School was now behind her, and nothing would be solved by causing problems for Mrs. Fisk. Besides, the woman had been very kind to Rose, and she wouldn’t want the director reprimanded due to a letter of complaint from Mrs. Woodfield.

“I have a lovely framed certificate acknowledging my first-place award, Grandmother. I saw the fabric after it had been woven, and that was enough of a prize for me. Please don’t write a letter. I consider Mrs. Fisk a fine director who does everything she can to help the girls attending design school.”

“Not quite everything, or she would have—”

“Mother, I believe Rose is quite satisfied. She’s been clear about her wishes, and I’m sure you won’t override her decision.” Laura looked at her mother and arched her brows.

Mrs. Woodfield inhaled a deep breath and sighed. “I’ll abide by your decision, Rose, but changes don’t take place unless we let our voices be heard.”