five

I let David in the front door of the Bailey home at a few minutes before one o’clock, smiling at his handsome face and cheerful expression. It lifted my spirits just to cast my eyes on him. I’d tried to put my cares behind me after I’d cycled home from Meeting, helping Faith with the dinner and enjoying the simplicity of a life with children in the house. But my concerns about the eldering as well as the murder loomed heavy in the background.

David was about to kiss me when eight-year-old Betsy skipped into the hallway holding Christabel in her arms.

“There you are, little miss,” he said, reaching out to tousle her blond hair.

“Good afternoon, David.” Her eyes gleamed. She reached out her small hand, which David shook, and the kitty jumped down.

“Betsy, run help Faith set the table, please. I need to speak with David in private for a moment.”

“Must I?” she asked plaintively.

“Yes, you must,” David said. “And make sure you seat me next to you.”

She brightened and skipped away.

“First this,” he said, leaning in for a luscious kiss. “How’s my beautiful intended?” He asked, laying a hand on my cheek. “You look a bit weary.” He didn’t look at all tired. His deep blue eyes sparkled and his curly dark hair framed his face just right.

“I am, at that. I was at a birth all night, and on my way home I discovered a woman dead. And then I was taken to task after Meeting for Worship.”

“A body?” He turned serious. “This is serious news, Rose, and surely upsetting to you. I know you’ve seen death before, but it’s never easy.”

“So true. I can tell thee the details after dinner, but I wanted to ask if thee knows an Oscar Felch from Amesbury. I believe he’s a physician.” His hearing the news of the body must have overshadowed my saying I’d been scolded, natural for a doctor. I could tell him about that later.

“I am acquainted with him, yes. He lives on Greenwood Street here in Amesbury. Why do you ask?” When Christabel purred and wound herself around David’s legs, he reached down to pet her.

“It was his wife, Rowena Felch, whom I found. And hers was not a natural death.”

“You don’t say!” He straightened. “Another murder, Rosie?”

I nodded. “She appeared to have been hit on the head. She was dragged under a lilac bush and left to die. Thee is certain the Felches live on Greenwood Street?”

“Yes, it came up in conversation one time, I can’t remember how.”

“So she must have been at her own home. The thing is, Oscar was nowhere to be found. I wondered if there’s a medical convention going on somewhere he might be attending.”

David thought. “I don’t think so, but I can ask around at the hospital tomorrow.”

“Thee will let me know? Or better, tell Kevin Donovan, please. He’s looking for the husband.”

“Of course. I’ll call him.” David’s family, as well as the hospital and the police station, had installed telephones. The devices were becoming more and more common, but my brother-in-law Frederick hadn’t seen fit to acquire one for this house.

“Rose,” Faith called from the back of the house. “Dinner’s ready.”

I had been about to tell him the details of my being eldered by Ruby, but that could wait.

“Shall we?” David crooked his elbow for my hand and we passed through into the sitting room.

My brother-in-law, Frederick Bailey, stood when we came in. The two men shook hands and greeted one another. I left them and hurried into the kitchen, which doubled as dining room in this modest house. It was fragrant with the smells of fresh rolls, the rich casserole, sizzling meat, and cinnamon from the pies. Thirteen-year-old Luke stood talking with Zeb. Zeb, also a Friend, was tall, with dark intense eyes, and lived only a few blocks away. His brother Isaiah had tragically been killed in the fire of last spring, but Zeb hadn’t let his deep sorrow overtake his love for Faith or his caring manner for all.

“Luke, look at thee,” I said. “Thee is nearly as tall as Zeb now.” It was true. Luke seemed to grow overnight these days, and both he and Zeb were on the skinny side.

Luke flushed as Zeb measured the level of his head at Zeb’s shoulder. “It won’t be long now,” Zeb said with a smile.

“Rose, can thee call the little boys,” Faith asked. “They’re outside.”

“Matthew, Mark,” I called out the back door. “Dinner.”

A moment later the ten-year-old twins clattered up the steps. “Come and wash,” I urged.

“We’re hungry,” towheaded Mark said, standing in the open doorway.

“Thee is letting the cold air in,” Frederick snapped. “Get in and do as thy aunt says.”

When Matthew lowered his head and closed the door silently, my heart broke for the boy. Would his father ever learn to be kind to his sons?

“I’m glad thee is hungry,” Faith said in a bright voice. She brought the potato casserole, steaming and covered with bubbling cheese, to the table.

“I think I’m going to die if I don’t eat right this minute,” dark-haired Matthew added with great drama from where he and Mark stood at the sink.

“Not until thy hands are clean,” I said. “Faith, I’ll get the chops.”

“My mother’s fritters are in the oven, too, Rose, keeping warm,” Zeb said.

After we were all nine of us seated in close quarters around the table, with Betsy happily on the other side of David, we joined hands and bowed our heads, as is our custom. A few moments of blessed silence passed before Frederick spoke.

“May God watch over us and lead us in peaceful ways,” he said.

May God lead me to peace with both David and Amesbury Friends, I added silently. And may we have no more murders in our fair town.

The four younger children had finished their meal and gone off to play, or, in Luke’s case, to study for an examination. The table still held small plates with crumbs of pie and coffee cups.

“Those apples were perfect, Zeb,” I said. “Thank thee so much for bringing them to us.”

“The pies themselves were outstanding, too,” David said. “Excellent crust. Nice and short, as it should be. You’ll have to teach me how to make it, Rose.”

I cocked my head. “I will be happy to. It takes a little practice, and requires a light hand so the dough doesn’t toughen, but it’s not too hard to learn. Faith is also quite accomplished in the pastry-making department.”

Frederick frowned at David, which accentuated Frederick’s heavy forehead jutting out over his eyebrows. “Doesn’t thy family have a cook for that kind of thing?”

“We do, of course,” David replied. “But I rather enjoy preparing food. So far I have only attempted savory dishes, but I’d like to learn to bake sweet dishes, too. You never know when it might come in handy.”

Of course his well-off Newburyport family had a cook, and a driver, and several maids. I felt his hand cover mine under the table. A man wanting to cook despite all the comforts of his life. He was a prize seldom seen in our world. How I longed to marry and set up housekeeping with this most unusual of men. That rosy thought was slammed into a dark cellar by the memory of Ruby’s warning. I stared morosely at the table.

“If we are to be equal in all ways, then not only should women have the right to vote,” Zeb said. Zeb was another gem, but he was at least a lifelong Friend, immersed in notions of equality from a young age. “But men should also be free to make meals for their families, should they choose.”

Faith beamed at him. “I’m going to the woman suffrage demonstration at the polling place Tuesday with Rose.”

When David turned to me with raised eyebrows, I nodded, trying to shake off my gloom.

“Truly?” Zeb asked Faith. “I’m proud of thee.”

“I’m not so sure I am, Faith,” her father said. “It could be dangerous. And thee must perform thy job.”

“She said she’ll inform her manager,” I said. “I support her standing in solidarity with the women of Amesbury. She’s not a little girl any longer, Frederick.”

He pursed his lips. “Our family needs Faith’s pay. Thee knows we do, Rose.”

It was true. I contributed what I could to the household expenses, but feeding and clothing five children, all but Faith growing nearly as fast as Luke, was a costly enterprise. At least my mother sewed them each new pieces of clothing when the children visited the farm every summer for a month.

“But Father, Granny Dot is coming for the demonstration, too.” Faith looked earnestly at him.

“What? How did I not know of this news?” Frederick folded his arms.

“I only learned about it this morning when I opened a letter which arrived yesterday,” I said. “She’ll be in on the evening train tomorrow.” I was even gladder now. I couldn’t wait to discuss the eldering with her, and imagined my independent free-spirited mother would be incensed at the news.

“She can share Betsy’s bed,” Faith said. “They’ll both like that.”

“Now then,” Frederick began. “Of course I am in favor of ladies being able to vote. But this demonstration business is a sham. Nothing will be accomplished. You’ll only get in the way of the legal voters.”

“All men,” Faith muttered.

“And if the men get it in their minds to turn violent, why, quite a few ladies could be hurt,” Frederick went on. “I won’t have Faith going, and I’d advise thee not to, either, Rose. Not to mention my mother-
in-law.”

I set my coffee cup down with a bit too much force, glad it was empty or the tablecloth would have been stained by the dark brew sloshing out. “Listen, Frederick. Thee knows Friends have long been in the forefront of the suffrage movement. We women must show up in great numbers for this kind of event.” I was starting to sound like my mother. “It makes a bold statement to the local community and to the world at large. I heard at the meeting reporters from the Boston newspapers will be present taking photographs and reporting on the gathering. Faith needs to be there, too, if she wants to be.”

He glowered and shook his head, slowly, three times. “No.”

I nearly bit my tongue. I was too tired to keep the peace, though, even though I knew silence was the wiser path. “Harriet would have wanted her to be there. Thee is dishonoring her by not letting Faith go.”

Frederick stood so fast he knocked his chair over backwards. “Don’t thee dare.” He pointed a shaking finger at me. “Don’t thee dare invoke my dead wife’s name. And don’t thee dare think to tell me how to raise my daughter.” He grabbed his hat and stormed out of the house.