for the future, and so on. Since I live in the same town as that of my three married sisters, you can understand that I should desire not to relocate elsewhere, and
would like to hear your thoughts on this.
I remain still a sincere applicant,
Hannah Burton
There, that ought to do it. She could walk over to the post office tomorrow morning, first thing, and trust the government agents to get this missive delivered into its rightful hands.
The rest of the afternoon passed quietly, restfully; she read a few chapters from one of the books she had checked out from the library, flipped aimlessly through the pages of Friday’s Gazette, even took a well-deserved nap, with Mimi briefly snuggled in beside her. After a hearty meal at Mrs. McKnight’s laden supper table, she lay awake for some time that night, wondering how soon she might expect a rejoinder to her brief hopeful note.
And, if she heard nothing at all from her prospective suitor, what would she do next?
Chapter Eleven
JANUARY TEASED TURNABOUT residents with a few days of warmer temperatures—enough to set icicles melting and frost to bleed away from window panes—and glimpses here and there of actual sunshine. Then, like some cruel adult offering a piece of chewy licorice to a delighted child, only to snatch it back, the weather changed once again, blowing in another round of cold and freezing rain.
Hannah stayed busy. The reporting et al job that she had cadged from Oliver Crane allowed her to work irregular hours, if she so chose; and during the nastier days she chose to remain in her room, snug and cozy with the cats.
“There’s something very tempting about this whole setup,” she confided late one afternoon to Mimi, who had left her kittens sprawled in sleep to seek out Hannah’s inviting lap. “I could very easily get used to living in luxury. Huh.”
The fire was freshly replenished and happy to burn its supply of pine, and Hannah had procured a nice tea tray from the kitchen and settled with absolute bliss in her rocker. Sleet slashed at the windows, hissing like a cobra upon contact with the glass. But the draperies were pulled almost shut against drafts, and the lamps and candles were flaming
nicely. She thought about the doctor and wondered what it would be like to live here as his wife. She knew he’d treat his bride right and would love her with all his heart.
In this mood, with the quiet soothing her very soul, it seemed almost natural to spare a thought for Gabriel, and wonder how he had fared during his travel east, and to actually miss his presence. Or perhaps she missed their spirited wrangling they engaged in upon every encounter. The thought made her laugh. Their difference of opinion, their controversy on so many topics, their occasional war of words added spice to the routine of life and work.
“Like the fizz of champagne,” she told Mimi, stroking the cat, “instead of drinking something flat and insipid. Or the glitter of diamonds in sunlight, as opposed to a plain chunk of metal. Does that make sense to you?”
Mimi stretched her front paws, kneaded against the afghan beneath her furry form, and yawned. Clearly it made perfect sense to her.
Hannah had cheated in the performance of her feline caretaking duties. While she was happy to take table scraps from the boarding house kitchen, or Filmer’s Butcher Shop, the idea of having to dump and refill the cat’s “convenience” appealed to her not at all.
So she had decided to spend a dollar or so of her weekly newspaper salary to hire the Gazette’s handyman, Cornelius Throckmorton, for the task. According to their agreement, he would appear every few days with fresh sand and do the necessary clean-out. It helped that she provided a nice bottle of whiskey from the Drinkwater Hotel stockroom, as added incentive.
During one of the more temperate days, she had spent an afternoon cheering up Camellia, who, per Ben’s putting the word out for her three sisters, was feeling imprisoned and depressed. Hannah arrived bearing a box of beautifully decorated cookies from the bakery (how satisfying to walk about with cash in her reticule and an ever-growing bank account) and a box of Earl Grey loose tea from Abigail’s shop.
“Hello, dear Cam,” she said breezily, putting down her packages to offer an embrace and a chilly cheek to kiss. “You’re looking well.”
“I look like a rhinoceros stuffed into dancer’s tights, and you know it. Thank you for coming to see me, Hen. I’ve been feeling a trifle lonely, with Ben so busy at the store.”
“And I suppose he prefers that you stay home and take care of yourself, yes? Poor Cam. Well, I’m here to feed and entertain you, so how about a nice cup of tea?”
Camellia, ensconced on the settee with a small hassock under her feet, an afghan across her knees, and the parlor fire adding cheer and heat, smiled. “I do believe your veins are filled with British blood, Hen. Tea is your panacea for anything that’s wrong.”
“Oh, Camellia.” Hannah was already setting a kettle of water onto the kitchen stove’s front burner. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing worth mentioning. Other than I’ve been tired and grouchy as an old bear, and poor Ben has had to take the brunt of my bad moods. Come, sit down, tell me what you’ve been up to.”
Sweeping her dark purple skirt slightly to one side, Hannah took the well-used chair opposite. “Well, now, let me see. You knew the doctor had done a flit.”
The smile broadened into a wicked grin. “Don’t be snide. Yes, I knew he’d gone back home to visit. He wanted to make sure I was aware he was leaving for a few weeks, and that I should be in good hands with Letty. Although, quite frankly, Hen,” she lowered her voice conspiratorially, “I’m not sure which is worse—having all my embarrassing loss of dignity examined by a male physician, or by my sister.”
“Probably neither,” decided Hannah, after a moment’s consideration. “Of course, if you must get yourself into that situation... Uh—have you heard if he arrived safely?”
“No, I haven’t, but Letty received a telegram. She stopped in a few days ago, and told me about it. It was a lengthy trip, he said, and a tiring one, but over the years he’s gotten used to it. And how are the cats faring?”
Hannah felt a little sting of exasperation. “For someone shut up away from the world, you certainly seem to know everything that’s going on around here. I can’t think why I even bothered to make a visit.”