To Honor and Trust (4 page)

“No, of course not. The servants in this household use both the front and back stairs—whichever is more convenient.”

After inhaling a deep breath, Mrs. Murphy continued climbing. “Well, you know how it is. Some of these rich folks want their servants to be invisible. Never could understand how a person could serve you and remain invisible. Maybe that's why a few of the families I worked for didn't get on with me very well.”

The remark caused Callie to glance over her shoulder at the older woman. She hoped Mrs. Murphy would do her best to get along with all members of the family. The Bridgeports weren't difficult employers, but they did expect the servants to meet their expectations. “Was there some sort of problem at your last employment?”

“No. I wanted to get to a warmer climate for the winter, and no matter how cold the weather, the family stayed in Pittsburgh.”

“Has it been some time since you worked for the Winslows?”

“A number of years. I'd been in Pittsburgh quite a while, but I knew a reference from Mrs. Winslow would be more important than from the family in Pittsburgh. They didn't know Mr. and Mrs. Bridgeport.” She nudged Callie's arm. “Truth is, they weren't what you would call wealthy. They hired me because the missus was a bit feeble in the head and needed someone to stay with her while the mister was at work. Poor woman needed all the help she could get—couldn't remember her name half the time.”

“Well, I'm sure she appreciated your kindness.” They walked the hallway of the second floor, and Callie gestured toward the doorways as they passed, advising which bedroom belonged to which family member.

“Sure is a lot of empty bedrooms,” Mrs. Murphy commented.

“Mrs. Bridgeport usually keeps these bedrooms available for visiting guests. She prefers the children's nanny be close to their rooms, although I know your room is somewhat small. Would you like me to inquire about having you moved?”

Mrs. Murphy gasped. “When I went in there earlier, I noticed it's kind of warm. A bigger room would be nice.”

Callie wasn't sure how to answer the woman. During her first winter at Bridal Veil, Mrs. Bridgeport had insisted Callie have a double room on the second floor. She wouldn't hear of Lydia Deboyer's granddaughter being thought of as less than family.
“It's unseemly and I will not hear another word about it,”
Mrs. Bridgeport had insisted. That statement had ended all further discussion of a small servant's room for Callie.

“I can speak to Mrs. Bridgeport on your behalf.”

“No need—I'll ask the missus. I don't have a problem speaking up for myself.” When the two of them had stopped outside the door to Callie's bedroom, Maude peered inside. A cream
satin and chiffon gown embroidered with coral beads and spangles lay draped across Callie's bed. Mrs. Murphy's mouth gaped open. “That the dress the missus was talking about? The one you'll be wearing to that ball?”

Callie nodded.

Mrs. Murphy pursed her lips and arched her brows. “That looks like something the missus should be wearing instead of a tutor. How'd you manage to buy something like that on your wages?”

“Mrs. Bridgeport purchased the gown.”

Maude rested a hand on her hip. “I wouldn't mind having the missus buy me a dress like that. I'm thinking I better keep my eye on you, Miss Callie. Looks like you've learned how to make things work to your advantage.”

The comment troubled Callie. She'd never attempted to take advantage of the Bridgeports. Instead, she'd done her best to discourage their gifts, but she'd met with little success. Did Maude consider her some sort of scheming employee? “Mrs. Bridgeport is quite generous with her employees. You'll recall she has already offered to purchase you some new clothing, Maude.”

“Well, I'm sure anything she buys for me won't compare to that gown on your bed.”

Callie cocked her head toward the bewildering woman. One minute Mrs. Murphy seemed confused about her role as a nanny and about suitable etiquette within a proper household, but the next minute she clearly understood the cost of beautiful gowns and the finer things of life. One thing was certain: If she couldn't help Mrs. Murphy fit into the household, Callie's season on the island would be filled with caring for children both day and night. And as much as she loved all three of
them, she couldn't see to all of their needs and still act as Mrs. Bridgeport's companion.

Not to mention the fact that Callie's conversation with the peculiar nanny had been a strong reminder that she had a lot of thinking—and praying—to do about her future.

That evening Callie remained alongside Mrs. Murphy while she helped the children through their bedtime rituals. Thomas, of course, insisted he needed no help from anyone and bid them good-night when he strode down the hall to his bedroom.

“Thomas is quite the grown-up young man, isn't he?” Mrs. Murphy glanced toward Callie as she helped Lottie slide her nightgown over her head.

“He feels he's well beyond the need of a nanny, and I suppose that's true enough, though he is still in need of his school lessons. He doesn't take education as seriously as his parents would hope.”

Mrs. Murphy picked up Lottie's hairbrush and set to work on the girl's hair. “You said you lived with your grandmother in Indianapolis, so how'd you learn to speak French?”

“I attended a finishing school in Indianapolis and then attended college in Chicago. Grandmother insisted I take French lessons—as well as singing lessons. And I'm glad she did.” She nodded toward Lottie and Daisy. “I've begun teaching both of the girls French, along with their other lessons.”

“So did your grandmother pass on when you were away at your schooling?”

“No, I had completed my education and begun teaching at a small private school in Chicago. However, I returned to Indianapolis to be at her side. I was gone long enough that the school had to fill my position, so when my grandmother died, the Bridgeports offered me a position as tutor to their children. I've been with them ever since.”

“And ya got no regrets?”

“None at all. As I said earlier, they have been extremely good to me. They treat me more like a relative than an employee.”

“That's what Lula said while you were gone to dinner at the clubhouse with the family earlier tonight.”

Mrs. Murphy smiled, but Callie thought she'd detected a hint of resentment in the older woman's tone. “Dinner is easier for the adults when I'm along. I can easily see to the children's needs while the adults visit.”

Daisy leaned her head on Callie's shoulder. “Miss Callie takes me to the bafroom when I need to go. Mama doesn't like to take me.”

“It's not that she doesn't like to,” Callie corrected. “When your mother is in the middle of a conversation, it isn't always convenient for her to break away.”

Daisy lifted her head from Callie's shoulder and pinned her with a wide-eyed stared. “Oh. I thought she didn't like the bafroom at the clubhouse.”

“Don't be silly, Daisy.” Lottie shot a disapproving look at her sister. “Why wouldn't Mother like the bathroom?”

Callie wagged her index finger back and forth. “Now, girls, there's no need to argue over something so trivial.”

Daisy scooted around to look at Callie. “What's a ‘trivial'?”

“Trivial isn't a thing, Daisy. It means unimportant. Sisters shouldn't argue at all, but certainly they shouldn't be upset with each other over something that doesn't matter.”

“But bafrooms matter, don't they?”

Callie chuckled. At this rate, the topic of bathrooms would continue until Mr. and Mrs. Bridgeport returned home for the night. “They are important, but we're going to end this discussion, and the two of you are going to say your prayers. Then Mrs. Murphy and I will tuck you into bed for the night.”

The older woman nudged Callie's arm. “Call me Maude. It makes me feel old when you say Mrs. Murphy. Besides, I think using first names is friendlier, don't you?”

Callie nodded. “Then I shall call you Maude from now on.”

The two women listened as the girls said their prayers. They ended with the usual recitation of people for God to bless. “Oh, and God bless Mrs. Murphy, too,” Daisy added as the two women were departing the room.

“Thank you, Daisy. That was sweet of you to include me in your prayer.”

Daisy inched up on her elbow. “Mama says we can all use as many blessings as we can get.”

Mrs. Murphy grinned. “And that's very true. Now off to sleep with ya, and I look forward to seeing your cheery little faces in the morning.”

“Would you like to join me downstairs for a cup of tea, Maude?”

“Don't mind if I do. And there might be a few of those shortbread cookies that Lula shared with me earlier today. She brought them from home, and I have to say that Mrs. Bridgeport would be wise to use Lula's abilities in the kitchen as well as cleaning the house.”

Callie was surprised that Lula had taken such a quick liking to Mrs. Murphy. She usually kept her distance whenever new help came into the house or when guests arrived for a visit. And Lula was always neat as a pin—a fact that made the friendship seem even more unlikely.

“Lula said she's worked at Fair Haven ever since the Bridgeports had the place constructed, but she says she'd never want to work at the clubhouse. Says there's too many snooty guests who expect ya to bow and scrape to 'em.”

“Did she? I didn't know that she'd ever associated with any of the guests in the clubhouse.” Callie placed the teakettle on to boil and opened the door of a glass-fronted overhead cabinet. She removed two cups and saucers and placed them on the counter.

“She has four or five friends from Biscayne who ride over on the boat with her every day. They all work in the clubhouse—two as housekeepers and two in the kitchen. Lula said they've told her stories that make her happy she's working at Fair Haven instead of the clubhouse. Seems it's mighty hard to make all those rich folks happy.”

“I find most of the guests quite lovely, but since I've never worked there, I couldn't say how difficult it might be.” Callie didn't want to be drawn into gossiping about the guests who visited Bridal Veil—not with Maude or anyone else, for that matter.

Maude rustled through several items in the pantry and finally located the remains of Lula's shortbread cookies. “I found 'em.” She held a small bag aloft and crossed the room to the fold-down kitchen table. After opening the cloth napkin, she pointed to the cookies. “You wait till you taste one of these. Don't believe I've ever had better cookies in all my years.”

Once the tea had brewed, Callie poured the steaming amber liquid into their cups and carried them to the table. Maude stirred both cream and sugar into her tea and immediately bit into one of the cookies before pushing the napkin toward Callie.

“Go on and try one. You'll not be disappointed.”

Callie picked up a cookie, took a bite, and nodded her agreement. “You're right. It is an excellent cookie.”

Maude took a sip of her tea and leaned back in her chair. “Tell me what it's like over there in the clubhouse. I doubt I'll ever get invited to go inside.”

There it was again—that slight sound of resentment Callie had detected earlier. “If you'd like to see some of the rooms, I'm sure Mrs. Bridgeport wouldn't mind arranging for you to take a tour someday in the future.”

“I think I'd get more than a few stares if I went inside that fancy clubhouse.” She brushed her palm down the front of her faded skirt but brightened after a moment. “I'd be pleased if you'd just tell me about some of the ladies and how they look in their fancy dresses and jewels—and what the inside of the clubhouse looks like when it's all lit up for a grand party.”

Mrs. Murphy certainly was a woman with a myriad of questions, but everything on the island was new to her. On Callie's first visit, she'd been intrigued by the homes and the people who flocked to Bridal Veil during the winter. She'd soon learned that Bridal Veil could present a few unique challenges for the visitors.

When one of the ladies took a dislike to another or felt slighted by another guest, it was difficult to avoid each other on the island. Guests ate their meals in the huge dining room, and although there was an early and a late seating, trying to change
the time when one took one's meals could prove difficult—and usually impossible. A fact Callie wouldn't have realized had one of Mrs. Bridgeport's dear friends not experienced the situation.

“The interior is lovely, although some of the rooms are more rustic than one might expect—largely due to the number of guests who enjoy hunting the wild animals on the island.”

“The women hunt, too?”

Callie nodded. “There are a few who enjoy hunting with their husbands. A number of the women are riding enthusiasts, but more of them prefer playing croquet or a game of whist or attending the usual teas. Those events are held inside the clubhouse. Occasionally one of the ladies will host an event at her cottage.”

Maude chuckled. “Cottage! The very idea of calling a place like this a cottage. If these folks want to see what a real cottage is, they need to visit the outskirts of Biscayne when they cross the river to do their shopping.”

Callie didn't mention the fact that few of the women shopped in Biscayne. Most sent their servants to purchase any necessary items. If the women wanted to purchase items for themselves or their families, they took several days and went to Savannah for a shopping excursion.

“From the looks of the outside of the clubhouse, I thought it would be mighty fancy inside, too.”

“Some sections are quite elegant. The dining rooms and entertainment areas where they host balls and such have beautiful chandeliers and furnishings. And though I've never visited any of the suites on the upper floors where many guests have their quarters, I'm told they are lovely—especially the ones that have sun porches with a view of the grounds and the river in the distance.”

“I'm guessing they pay a pretty penny to stay in that place. Amazing when you think about the difference in those people and folks like me. Seems it would be fairer if all that wealth was spread out more equal-like, don't you think?”

“I haven't spent a great deal of time thinking about such things, Maude. Whether I think it is fair or not won't change anything.”

“I know, I know, but when you see those ladies with all them jewels around their necks and dangling from their wrists, don't it make you think that's just not the way it should be?” She took a gulp of her tea. “They do have lots of pretty jewels, don't they?”

“They do, indeed. Would you like more tea?”

Maude held her cup in the air. “Don't mind if I do.”

“You mentioned you've been twice married, Maude?”

“That's right. Neither one of 'em was faithful. After that, I decided I was too old to put up with another man that didn't want to keep his word.” She sighed with pleasure as she bit into another cookie. “How is it a pretty gal like you is still single? You never been in love?”

Callie's stomach clenched at the mention of love. “Yes, once. In fact, I was engaged to marry.”

The older woman wrapped her hands around the teacup. “What happened? I hope he didn't die.”

“No, but it felt almost like a death.” Callie paused and inhaled. “We had courted for two years, and I thought he was the man the Lord intended for me. He seemed so perfect—the kind of man every girl wants to marry.”

Mrs. Murphy clucked her tongue. “Those are the ones you gotta watch out for. Those smooth-tongued fellows can lead a woman astray. I know. Both the men I married could
sweet-talk just about anyone. Land alive! Homer, that's my second husband, could have convinced a man to give up his coat in the middle of winter. So this fellow of yours decided he wasn't the marrying kind?”

“No. He married another woman.” Even after two years, Callie's stomach lurched at the memory.

“Well, I say a person needs to look at the bright side.”

Callie swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. Recollections of Matthew still evoked a great deal of pain. She had hoped to recover from the anguish long ago, but the memories continued to haunt her. “Exactly what is the bright side to having your intended leave you for another woman?”

“You could have married him and then have him find another woman that pleases him more than you. That's what happened to me, and that's a whole lot worse. Take my word for it, you're better off to be rid of a cheating man afore you say ‘I do.'” Maude picked up her cup and carried it to the sink. “I best wash up these dishes and set to work on some of my mending. Why don't you join me upstairs, and we'll continue our chat.”

Once finished in the kitchen, the two of them climbed the back stairs. Callie considered refusing Maude's invitation, but decided her letter writing could wait. There was no denying Mrs. Murphy was an interesting woman, though Callie still thought it odd that such an earthy woman had come so highly recommended by one of Mrs. Bridgeport's cultured friends.

With her needle and thread in hand, Maude began mending a tear in one of her skirts. “You mark my words, one of these days you'll find a good man. There are still some good ones out there. And once you quit your tutoring, you'll need a man to provide you with a home.”

Callie shook her head. “I have my grandmother's house. She left it to me, so I don't have that worry, Maude. Besides, I've made up my mind that I'll remain single. I don't want to go through this pain ever again.”

Maude waved her threaded needle in the air. “Posh! Once your heart heals, you'll find a man who will sweep you off your feet. When that happens, you'll forget about the past and march right down that church aisle.”

Callie didn't argue, but Maude was wrong. There had been any number of eligible men who had attempted to court her since Matthew had broken her heart. None had been able to break down her defenses, and she planned for it to remain that way.

“So you live in your granny's house when the family's in Indianapolis?” Maude knotted and cut her thread before examining the mend she'd completed in her skirt.

“No, I rent out the house and live with the Bridgeports. Mrs. Bridgeport said it would be foolish of me to live there since I'd be traveling with them much of the time.”