The Secret of Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 4) (29 page)

Seventy-One

     
L
ouisa said goodnight to the men in the parlor and then stood alone in the hall with Luc.

      “I won’t see you until tomorrow,” he said seriously.

      Louisa reached up and touched his cheek. “I can hardly wait.”

      He brushed her hair from her face and kissed her lightly.

      Louisa leaned up and kissed him. “After tomorrow we will never have to say goodbye like this before bedtime again. I’m looking forward to that,” she said.

      “No more than me.”

      Luc watched her as she climbed the stairs slowly. He watched the way her skirt brushed her calves and the sway of her hips. “No more than me,” he said again to himself.

      Louisa dipped her toe into the steaming bath and then slid into the hot water. She sighed as she reclined in the big tub feeling excited and nervous and happy and on edge. Hopefully a good soak would help her to sleep like a baby so she could wake up refreshed to begin her wedding day. She expected that might be impossible when she heard a tap on the door.

      Rebecca poked in her head. “I brought you something to help you sleep,” she said as she set a tray on the table bedside the big footed tub.

      Louisa sighed. “I think I will need it.”

      “This tea will have you dreaming like little Fiona before you know it.” Rebecca dropped the tea ball into the pot. “Don’t let it steep too long, just a few minutes. I promise it will help.”

      “Thank you, Mama.” Louisa laid back as her mother left the room. She lathered and rinsed her hair, slipped into her nightgown and poured the tea. She could taste the gentle chamomile and the medicinal tang of another herb. She drank it down quickly and climbed into the big bed.

      The room had been thoroughly cleaned, the window seat cushions recovered in a rich velvet. Now there were no porcelain dolls, no doll houses. The room looked fresh and inviting but Louisa knew it was only hers for this one, last night. She laid back on the stack of thick pillows and looked at the ceiling above her.

      Memories of her childhood flooded her mind. The molding on the ceiling could look like the tracks of a carriage in the right angle in the moonlight. She remembered the nights Katie had come to stay, the two of them giggling until her mother came in and scolded them gently. Then her father would come in far more seriously and they would lay quietly after his firm reprimand.

      Louisa remembered the black cat that often slept on the foot of her bed. The cat was always as old as she while she was growing up, it’s time now long gone. She remembered holidays and birthdays, births and deaths. Louisa threw aside the coverlet and walked silently out into the hall.

      She pulled open the doors to the turret and the house gave up a soft sigh. She took a deep breath of the night air and looked out over the lawns.

      The crews that were setting up for the wedding had accomplished their mission. All of the canopies were sturdily assembled and garlands of flowers were strung along railings and porches. The tabletops gleamed a soft silver in the moonlight. All of it was waiting for her and Luc. It looked to her like the grounds of a medieval castle set for a festival, patiently anticipating the merriment and laughter. Louisa looked out towards the field and felt as if something else was gone now. All of the ghosts had left. She could feel it, as if Stavewood had been freed from all of the pain they had brought. Birget and Corissa could rest now and maybe poor Bernadette and Sam Evens as well. The house was no longer haunted. Louisa smiled to herself, stepped from the turret and closed the doors behind her. The knob turned with a soft whisper.

      She went to her room and got down on her knees on the thick rug before the fireplace. The flames crackled brightly in the dark room. Louisa pulled her valise from beneath the bed. Inside were the knitting needles her mother had given her on her eighteenth birthday, made of finely polished maple with her name etched into the shafts. There was a skein of Rebecca’s handspun wool. Also inside was her leather bound notebook and her manuscript. She opened the box and set it on the rug beside her.
The Secret of Stavewood
by Louisa Elgerson
was typed neatly on the first page. Louisa took the manuscript and the notebook and placed them into the flames.

      The fire licked up around the leather and the paper and the pages curled up and burned one after another, as though being read for the first and last time. Louisa stirred the fire and in the hot coals it all turned slowly to ashes. She climbed back into her bed, closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

Seventy-Two

     
S
tavewood bustled with activity. The ovens blazed and wagonloads of fresh foods were unloaded beside brick hearths in the yard. The scent of roasted pigs filled the air and a tall wooden press mashed fresh cider into jugs. There were cooks and servers, entertainers and performers. A violin, a cello and a harp could be heard tuning in the morning air. Louisa Elgerson stood at the window of her childhood home, watching and listening.

      She heard a soft tap on her door and responded, “Come in.”

      Rebecca appeared in her ruffled dressing gown with a breakfast tray. “Good morning.”

      “Good morning, Mama.” Louisa sat down on the window seat.

      “You look rested,” Rebecca said. “Did you sleep well?”

      “I did. That tea really worked. I’m not sure how hungry I am.”

      “I understand. Try to eat something. A pale bride is never good. You don’t want to be fanning yourself in front of Luc and the magistrate.”

      Louisa nibbled on a thick slice of freshly baked bread, spread generously with Colleen’s herb butter. It was rich and sweet and Louisa was surprised when she had finished the entire piece.

      Rebecca pulled aside the chair at the dressing table and Louisa took a deep breath. “Shall we begin?”

      Louisa nodded, sat down and faced the mirror. She thought her face looked puffy and her hair seemed hopeless. She closed her eyes and surrendered to her mother’s gentle touch. “Make me beautiful, Mama,” she said softly.

      “That’s going to be very easy,” Rebecca responded.

      Louisa listened to the calls of the people outside and the footsteps beyond the door. Now and then someone would be searching for her mother and Rebecca would slip out into the hall and return without a word. Over the years her mother was always there for her and the family. All you had to do was need her and she would appear and kindly and efficiently solve whatever dilemma you were facing.

      “Thank you, Mama.” Louisa said as Rebecca arranged her hair and finished her makeup.

      “There you are,” her mother said, and Louisa opened her eyes. Her hair was a halo of shiny, dark curls and her eyes sparkled against her fair complexion. On her head she wore a cap of lace with a wide band where the trailing veil would be attached. Louisa’s cheeks were pink, lips rosy and her color warm. She was certain she had never looked so beautiful.

      “Oh, Mama,” she gasped.

      “Once you have your gown on, I will add this.” Rebecca lifted the veil over her arm. It was over eight feet of the sheerest whisper of lace. Louisa held her breath. She was beginning to feel very much like a bride.

      Rebecca held up a delicate necklace with a tiny ocher diamond on a fine chain and fastened it around her daughter’s neck. “Luc left this for you last night.”

      Louisa touched the jewelry with the tips of her fingers. The stone matched the one in her ring perfectly. She took the wooden carp from the tabletop and smiled.

Seventy-Three

     
A
tap on the door was followed by a rush of ladies, all carrying their gowns, rustling with excitement and anticipation.

      “Look how beautiful that veil is going to be!” Colleen studied Louisa’s reflection in the mirror.

      “Oh, Rebecca, that is just stunning on her!” Emma chimed in as Irene nodded in approval.

      Katie patted her tummy beneath her camisole. “Thank you for fitting that dress to make me look slimmer after having Fiona.” She kissed Rebecca on the cheek.

      Louisa sat silently after her mother had scolded her and told her to do no more than sit. She watched the women dress, rustling in their petticoats as they fastened long rows of tiny buttons for one another. Rebecca moved Louisa to the rocker so she could arrange each woman’s hair quickly and attractively as they sat at the dressing table. She dusted their noses and darkened their lashes and brushed color onto their lips in a soft peach that flattered their complexions and matched their gowns.

      “Everyone looks so fetching!” Irene said. “Could I possibly have a turn in that magic dressing chair?”

      The ladies all giggled and Rebecca swept her hand across the empty chair. “It would be my pleasure,” she said.

      Soon Irene Almquist’s complexion glowed and her hair gleamed and she looked young and pretty under Rebecca’s skilled hand.

      Louisa held her breath as her gown was lowered over her shoulders and her mother arranged her veil delicately. She spread the gossamer lace over her daughter’s shoulders and along the floor behind her. Louisa turned to the mirror.

      She took a deep breath. She was a vision, the white fabric of the dress draped in romantic flowing lines over her body. The veil made her look delicate and angelic, like a dream.

      “Luc is going to be astonished,” Katie whispered. “Now I understand completely why he’s been Billington’s most eligible bachelor for so long. You, Loo, are the one he was waiting for.”

      “Most eligible bachelor?” Louisa lifted her brow.

      “Oh, yes!” Irene chuckled. “One of the reasons I’m so thrilled he is marrying is that the constant stream of young women calling for him at home has finally stopped.”

      Everyone in the room laughed.

      Louisa looked at her reflection in the mirror. She had never imagined him that way. She smiled. “Then I suppose it’s a good thing that I look amazing and I have my mama to thank for that. Let me guess, every one of them is on the guest list today.”

      The women laughed. “As a matter of fact, they are,” Rebecca giggled. “My turn!” she announced and sat in the chair. She arranged her hair capably into a tumble of dark, rich curls and then stood as Colleen and Katie helped her into her dress. The gown fit perfectly, accentuating her tiny waist and delicate features. Louisa felt as if she was a perfect flower blossoming in a field of beautiful roses. The picture of all of them surrounding her on this magnificent day would remain in her mind all the rest of her life.

      Rebecca took small bottles from a tray on the table and in turn misted each woman lightly with a custom perfume. The room smelled of jasmine and honeysuckle, roses and lavender and spice. Each of the ladies sniffed their wrists and hummed in approval.

      “I made them especially for each of you. When you come up to change out of your gowns or to freshen up, your names are on the ribbons tied to each bottle. They are my gifts to all of you.”

      They all hugged one another carefully, afraid to muss their arranged hair and crisp gowns.

      There was a sharp tap on the door and the room fell silent. Louisa could hear the strains of the strings playing through the open window. It was time.