Love Finds You in Mackinac Island, Michigan (11 page)

Gracie’s friend giggled, but Gracie kept her own smile intact as she fanned her face. “About fashionable women trading their dresses for bloomers.”

He flashed her a smile. “Personally, I think fashionable ladies should trade their bloomers for bathing costumes.”

She clapped her hands. “Oh, you are perfectly awful.”

“I think women should be able to wear what they like,” Edward said from the backseat.

Gracie looked over her shoulder. “Even bloomers?”

“Why not?”

She turned back to Chase. “I would think that Mr. Darrington here, with all his inventions, would be especially interested in the fashion trends.”

“My investments usually last more than a season.”

“Perhaps you should be more modern in your interests, like your brother.”

Chase cleared his throat. “Actually, he’s my brother-in-law.”

Edward clapped him on the shoulder. “But we’re just like brothers, aren’t we?”

Chase almost choked on his retort. Edward might try to impress Gracie and her friend with his interest in fashion, but he was about as interested in fashion trends as he was in being Chase’s brother.

As the women chattered about the latest in gowns, Chase tilted his head again, searching for a place along the high bluff to test the telescope. Someplace where he could capture the stars over the expanse of the lake.

He heard the women’s laughter, but to him, it was like the sound of the horses’ hooves drumming a rhythm on the street, a steady clamor that helped him to think.

If the telescope could capture the contours of the moon, and if he and Richard could produce thousands of them at a reasonable cost, he could sell them to men and women like those on this excursion—people who were constantly searching for something new. And people who could afford it. If they were willing to buy Nelson’s telescope, it could change their entire perspective on the universe.

But what if astronomy didn’t interest them? It was possible that it would be like the bread toaster he’d tried to sell. No one wanted to buy it.

He looked back at Gracie. “Have you ever seen the stars before?”

She blinked. “Is this some sort of joke?”

“Of course you’ve seen the stars.” Chase laughed at himself. “But have you seen them up close, through a telescope?”

The ribbons on her wide hat ruffled with the shake of her head. “I’ve never known anyone who had a telescope.”

“But if you had—if you could go to an observatory—would you want to see the moon and stars?”

She brushed one of the ribbons back over her hat. “Are you planning to build an observatory, Mr. Darrington?”

The woman beside her giggled again. He couldn’t tell her, but he didn’t have to build an observatory. He could bring the observatory with him wherever he went.

It was no use being evasive with this woman, and he didn’t dare tell her about the telescope. He was certain she couldn’t keep the secret. “I’m intrigued by the stars.”

“I suppose they are interesting,” she said, but there was no enthusiasm in her voice, not like when he and Richard talked about the stars. And he wanted both men and women to enjoy the telescope.

But just because Gracie wasn’t interested in the galaxy didn’t mean that other women weren’t interested in it. Sometimes he invested for the good of science, and the good of their country’s future, instead of for the money. But people would still have to be interested in learning about their universe to buy this.

“I know someone who loves the stars,” Parker Randolph said.

Chase turned. “Who?”

The carriage stopped, and instead of answering, Parker opened the door and climbed down to help the ladies.

Four rowboats waited for them along Mackinac’s pebbly shore, and the carriage drivers piled picnic baskets, blankets, and an assortment of other paraphernalia into the back of the boats for them. Chase sat in the center of one of the boats to paddle, and Gracie, along with her maid and another lady, joined him. Parker, Sarah, and Edward rode in the boat next to them, Edward extending the rowing privileges to Parker before their party crossed the channel to Bois Blanc.

The island wasn’t as tall in the middle as Mackinac, sprawling across the horizon instead. The only living things on the island, Parker told them, were birds and some small animals.

Clear blue water swept gently over the sandy shore as they beached the rowboats, and after the ladies stepped out, Chase pulled his boat onto the sand. Parker took a shovel from the stack of supplies, and Chase helped him bury two watermelons to cool them while Gracie’s maid, a stout woman named Fanny, spread out one of the blankets. Then Fanny hung a curtain in the trees and the women took turns changing into their shorter bathing costumes to enjoy the beach.

It took the women a full half hour to change into their costumes, and Chase had begun to wonder if they would spend their beach day hiding behind the curtain. When Gracie finally finished, she sent Fanny off to find a pillow and then sat on the blanket next to Chase, sprawling her long stocking-covered legs in front of her and pulling her wide-brimmed hat down on her forehead. Chase kept his eyes on the lake. Mackinac Island lay across the channel from them, and he watched as several gulls dipped down, their wings clipping the water.

“Isn’t it lovely?” Gracie asked.

“I suppose it is,” he replied.

She crossed her feet. “I could stay out here forever.”

Chase eyed her, wondering if she was being genuine. “You’d be bored in no time.”

Fanny arranged several more pillows behind Gracie’s back, and she settled into them.

“Perhaps in a day or two, but not if I could hear the music from across the water.” She looked at Chase. “You would go crazy over here, wouldn’t you? No horseless carriages or flying machines.”

“I prefer the city whenever possible.”

Parker sat on the other side of Gracie, brushing sand off his trousers. “Which do you prefer most in the city—the smoke or the stench?”

Chase leaned back on his elbows. “Definitely the smoke.”

“Chester does not like the smoke,” Sarah replied as she sat on the blanket beside him. “He likes all the people running around, working like mad.”

“I like progress,” he said with a shrug. “Things are always changing and growing in Detroit.”

Gracie fanned her face again. “Everyone needs a break from the city.”

He had no qualms about relaxation—everyone needed to vacate at times—but he had a certain disdain for people who claimed to escape from work when they rarely lifted a finger either in the city or on an island. In reality, it was hard work for him to attend operas, balls, and dinners for purely social reasons. If he stayed on an island like this for months at a time, his parents would have to lock him up in an asylum.

He looked across at Mackinac, at its hump rising in the middle. “It looks like a turtle.”

“That’s why the Indians named it Michilimackinac,” Parker said. “Home of the great turtle.”

“Were there a lot of Indians on the island?”

“Indians, fur traders, and fisherman.”

He could almost see the island busy with people selling, buying, and exporting their wares. He probably would have enjoyed it more back then, when it was teeming with trade.

He scanned the bluffs again, looking for some sort of outcropping to try Richard’s telescope. In the midst of the trees, he saw something shimmer in the sunlight. He stopped scanning, squinting at the glare, but couldn’t make out what was reflecting the sun.

He pointed at the beached rowboats. “Did anyone happen to pack a pair of binoculars in that stash?”

Sarah glanced at the mound of stuff. “I believe we did.”

He started to push himself up, but Gracie stopped him. Her eyes were still on him when she spoke. “Fanny, go get Mr. Darrington the binoculars.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I can get them—” he insisted, but Gracie reached for his arm. He hated being trapped like this, between doing what he knew to be right and what he knew to be polite. It would be rude to undermine Gracie, but he hadn’t asked either her or Fanny to retrieve the binoculars. He didn’t want to insult Fanny either, or perhaps get her into trouble when she returned.

She returned quickly, depositing the binoculars into his hands. “Here you are, sir.”

“You’re a gem, Fanny.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed you to be a bird-watcher.” Gracie sounded agitated, probably because Fanny had managed to steal a moment of his attention.

“I have a deep appreciation for all God’s creation,” he said as he scanned the women’s faces. Gracie’s friend giggled again, but when he lowered the binoculars, Gracie was frowning.

Chase turned to the bluffs in front of them and scrutinized them through the binoculars, searching for the source of the reflection. And then he saw it. Some sort of tower on the hill right across from them, its dark roof blending into the trees.

Gracie inched closer to him. “What else intrigues you, Mr. Darrington?”

He put down the binoculars. “Right now, I’m very intrigued by those watermelons hidden in the sand.”

When Parker returned with one, Gracie instructed Fanny to cut it for them on the portable table they’d stowed on the boat.

“Has your father said anything to you about the Michigan land we discussed?” Edward asked Gracie.

“I don’t talk to my father about business.”

“You should,” Edward said with a smile. “A smart woman like you—”

“Edward,” Sarah interrupted, her voice strained, “could you help us cut the watermelon?”

Chase wanted to pummel his brother-in-law, but he stood instead, inviting Parker to join him at the water’s edge as Edward moved slowly away from Gracie to assist his wife.

Chase handed Parker the binoculars and pointed at the island. “Any idea what that is?”

Parker looked through the lenses. “All I see is a forest.”

Chase nudged the binoculars in Parker’s hands to the left until they were focused on the tower.

Parker paused. “That must be the old lighthouse.”

Chase took the binoculars from Parker and looked through them again. He’d read about lighthouses along the Atlantic Coast, but he’d never actually seen one. “How do you get to it?”

Parker plucked a long piece of sea grass out of an outcropping of rocks and chewed on the end. “I have no idea, but you can’t get to it from the road that circles the island. There are no trails up to those bluffs.”

“Perhaps one could climb it without a trail.”

Parker laughed. “If one wanted to lose one’s life.”

“How did you find out about it?”

“I—someone told me about it once. It was built many moons ago to keep boats from making an unexpected landing on the island in the fog.”

“Is this the same person who loves the stars?”

“The watermelon’s ready,” Sarah called.

Chase looked back at the lighthouse. People on Mackinac seemed to stay on the south coast of the island, near the village. “Does anyone use it now?”

“Only the island ghosts.” Parker grinned. “I’m told they aren’t fond of strangers.”

Elena heard soft laughter outside the open window. It was such a rare sound, even when they had company in their home, that she closed her book and listened. It sounded like Jillian’s laugh.

The laughter ended, and she heard a man’s voice below.

Setting her book on the chair, she tried to push herself up on the leather arms. Under her mother’s close watch, Jillian had pulled the steel bands of her corset so tightly that she could barely walk. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to dance as well.

On her third attempt to stand, Elena rose and moved toward the window of the small library. The laughter seemed to be coming from the porch that wrapped around the side of their house, but she couldn’t see under the roof.

She brushed her fingers over the red silk that flared from her waist to the floor. Her gown had capped sleeves made of black lace to match the lace around her neck and the hem of the skirt. Her face was powdered with talcum to hide the faint redness from her scratches, and a gold locket in the shape of a heart rested at the base of her throat. Her father had given it to her when she turned eighteen, and she preferred its simple beauty to the diamonds and pearls that many of the women wore.

Jillian laughed again, and there was freedom in her laughter, a sense of letting go of oneself and enjoying the company of another. Elena took a shallow breath. Unlike Jillian, she wouldn’t be doing much laughing tonight, not with this corset chained around her ribs.

Her stomach ached as well as her ribs. She didn’t want to fail her parents tonight—especially her father—but she didn’t know how to wrangle a man into marriage. It seemed that Gracie Frederick had captured Mr. Darrington’s attention, and she wasn’t entirely sure whether to be glad or upset at this news.

What if Mr. Darrington ignored her, or even worse, what if she despised him? She didn’t have to like him entirely, she supposed, but she prayed that he would be tolerable.

Laughter rang out again, this time from a man, and Elena sighed. What would happen if she did marry him and couldn’t find a refuge in Detroit? She would suffocate for certain.