Chapter Eight

The long cold winter gradually gave way to early spring. Chilly rain and a great deal of mud did not deter the little boys from running about outdoors, and Clara, in sturdy boots, could often be seen walking across the meadow with them or chasing hoops with them in the garden. Hannah occasionally joined them, but she was aware that Corey could sometimes steal a few minutes from his work to take part in the noisy games and she didn’t want to interrupt the charming little courtship that appeared to be happening between him and Clara. Thinking as highly as she did of both Corey and Clara, the thought that they might in time marry pleased her greatly.

Early flowers made their shy arrival in the garden on the south side of the stately house, pushing through the leftover snow like brave little soldiers. Hannah was delighted to find a few would be in bloom for her birthday. Mrs. Carne had promised to bake a vanilla cake for her, and Clara, with the assistance of Katie, Alberta, and Corey, was teaching the boys a special song to sing to her.

Captain Clarke made no mention of the upcoming event, but she noticed him having a deep discussion with Corey one morning when she was outside with the children. They both glanced at her as she strolled toward them, and then they disappeared into the barn. She thought they might be planning to surprise her with a carriage ride into town or something of the sort.

On the morning of Hannah’s birthday, a cold rain was falling. She felt very drowsy from the darkness of the day and lay abed beyond her usual hour. But after dozing a bit, she was awakened by a ray of sunshine and saw to her happiness that the day appeared to be clearing. As she prepared to rise, her door creaked open a few inches and two wide-eyed little faces peeked round the jam.

“Please close the door, darlings, until I have located my dressing gown.”

The door shut but only for a moment. Too excited to wait, Aven and Andrew scurried into her chamber and threw themselves into her arms.

The boys’ four months at the home of Captain Clarke had made a great alteration in them. They were both pink-cheeked and lively, with ready smiles and laughter. The sad, nervous little lads of last December had metamorphosed into happy children. How wonderful, thought Hannah, that they were the recipients of the largesse and kindness of heart of Captain Clarke. How good he was to bestow a comfortable, loving home on these children, whose claim on him was nothing more than a promise made in a time of emotional turmoil.

Andrew was clamoring for her attention. “Birfday gift! Birfday gift! Come see, Miss Hannah!”

“Sshh, don’t tell!” Aven admonished.

Hannah sent them away while she washed and dressed, but they were in the hall waiting for her when she emerged, wearing a thick blue shawl over her muslin frock. The boys seized her hands and hurried her downstairs. In the parlor, she saw Captain Clarke and Corey through the open door. The children pulled her into the room. She tried to resist, but she was weak from laughing at their excitement and antics.

A long window in the parlor gave a view of the front lawn. There, Hannah saw a pinto pony standing in the traces of a small two-wheeled carriage, a type commonly called a dogcart.

“Who’s here?” she inquired. “It’s rather early for visitors.”

“No one is here,” replied Aaron. “You’re looking at your birthday gift.”

“My—you don’t mean—”

“I wanted you to have a light cart you could drive to the village. I’ll be away most of the summer, and I was afraid you’d hesitate to order the carriage. You can’t always be walking.”

“You can’t mean…” Hannah was speechless as she stared at the beautiful pony, stamping in his traces and switching his tail at the spring gnats. “You can’t mean you’re giving me that lovely pony!”

“I am. And you must accept him and the dogcart and not fuss too much.”

“I truly don’t know what to say! It will be delightful to take the boys to the bookshop and the little beach on the river, and a thousand other places! What a wonderful gift for all of us!”

Corey laughed. “I told you, sir. ’Twould be all about the wee ones.”

“Yes, and I did not contradict you,” he replied with a smile. Then to Hannah: “You may take the boys out in the dogcart, of course, but I hope you’ll use it for only yourself from time to time. You can’t be always at home. You must visit shops and go to teas, and whatever other things young ladies do.”

“You’re very kind,” Hannah replied. “I’ve never been allowed to do those things, so I’m not quite sure how to begin. But,” she added quickly, “I will certainly visit shops because I want to purchase fabrics to make more frocks for Katie and Alberta. And Clara too, if she’d like some. And the dear boys must have short trousers to run about in when the summer weather arrives.”

The children began tugging at her hands again. “Come, Miss Hannah, outside!” Aven cried. “You must see the pony. His name is Blaze, and Corey said that’s because he has white on his face!”

There was a little bustle while everyone pulled on sweaters and capes. Mrs. Carne, Katie, and Alberta joined the group, and they all tripped outside to make the pony’s acquaintance. He was a gentle creature, whose soft nose began an immediate search for sugar lumps. Finding one in Corey’s trouser pocket, he set about trying to extract it. Corey pulled it out and gave it to Hannah.

“You first, miss.”

Hannah fed him the sugar, talked to him, and stroked his soft white face. “You’re a darling,” she whispered. “You’ll be a very good pony, I’m sure.”

****

Within a few weeks of Hannah’s birthday, Aaron reminded her of his father’s recommendation that she write to the Godders. Hannah hadn’t forgotten, but she was hesitant. She knew she was being foolish, but she had a strong sensation that she’d be safe only if they didn’t know her whereabouts.

However, the deed must be done, and one warm spring afternoon she took paper, pen, and ink out to the garden to write her letter. She settled on a bench near a bed of glowing red tulips and for a few moments simply enjoyed the sensation of warm air and sunshine. The call of crows made her turn toward the river, and she watched in amusement as several of the great black birds were chased by tiny furious sparrows sedulously guarding their nests.

With a sigh, she raised her pen. After many attempts to explain herself, she settled on the following words:

April 10, 1839

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Godder,

I’m sure you’re very angry with me for refusing to marry Lord Earling and leaving your home so abruptly. I do not write to ask your forgiveness but only to assure you that I’m safe and well. I reside in America, in the home of a respectable man, Captain Aaron Clarke, and am governess for his wards, two boys of three and five.

Captain Clarke is concerned that I know so little about my origins, and he suggested I ask you for some particulars. Perhaps I don’t have the right to ask for any favor from you; however, I trust that your generosity and affection for me will cause you to comply.

In particular, Captain Clarke suggested I ask the following:

Where was I born? No record of my birth could be found in any of the parishes in London.

Where did I reside in India?

What sort of business were my father and Mr. Godder conducting in India?

Captain Clarke and his brother, Mr. Gabriel Clarke, intend to call upon you this summer when the former is in England. I hope you’ll receive them kindly and provide them with as many particulars as you can about my connections and past. Meanwhile, you may write to me care of Captain Clarke, River’s Edge, Mystic, Connecticut.

With gratitude for all your kindness and care,

Hannah

Hannah posted her letter with a feeling of relief that it would be at least a few weeks before it reached its destination. In the days that followed, she busied herself with learning to drive her pony, caring for the boys, and designing dresses for the young servants and herself. Clara had joined Katie and Alberta in admiration of her designs, and all three girls wanted special dresses for the village ball that took place each year on the summer solstice, the longest day of the year. Hannah wanted to make one for herself also, so she stipulated they must help with stitching so everyone’s dress would be done in time. Chores must be done first, so the late afternoon usually found all four young women sitting in the parlor stitching intently, with the two boys pushing wooden toys about at their feet.

Occasionally, Captain Clarke would enter the room and express great shock at the design of the gowns. The first time this happened, he called, “Mrs. Carne! Have you seen this? I’m surprised you would allow your daughter to appear in a garment so daring!”

At these words, Mrs. Carne rushed in ready to do battle, only to be laughed at by the others. The trick worked only once, but Aaron amused himself with it several times. One afternoon, however, he walked into the parlor to see one of the dresses, complete, hanging on a dressmaker’s form. He walked over to it silently and touched the soft silk fabric.

“It’s beautiful,” he declared very seriously. “I congratulate all of you. The design, the stitchery—it’s far prettier than the fashions I see in England each summer.”

Alberta could not resist saying pertly, “Corey will like it, ’tis certain.” Katie and Hannah gave her a look, and Clara blushed. Captain Clarke was too well bred to notice the remark.

“Whose dress is this?” he inquired, as if Alberta had not given it away.

“It’s mine, sir,” Clara replied. “Miss Winstead designed it and cut it out, and I stitched it.”

“’Tis very pretty indeed.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Katie’s dress, which was a rosy shade of pink, called for matching ribbons looping across the tiers of the skirt. Unable to be sure of the shade when she perused the shops in the village, Hannah took the dress with her one morning, determined to find exactly what she sought.

She had no success in the Pattersall Ladies’ Boutique so she turned Blaze down a narrow lane where she knew could be found a tiny dressmaker’s shop. She carried the gown, carefully folded and wrapped in muslin, into the cluttered interior.

A woman appeared from behind a dressmaker’s dummy, her mouth full of pins and great masses of violet lace hanging about her neck. She was middle-aged and rather plain, but when she smiled a welcome, her face lit up.

“May I help you, miss?”

Hannah smiled in return. “I do apologize for interrupting you, but I’m seeking some ribbon of exactly this shade, and I hoped you might have some I could purchase.”

She then unwrapped the dress and laid it on a sturdy oak table, worn and scratched from thousands of pins. The dressmaker picked up the gown and held it up for inspection.

“This is very pretty, but it’s not one of my designs.”

“No, ma’am, it’s not. But still I hoped that—”

“Who designed this gown, may I ask?”

“I did.”

The dressmaker inspected Hannah, taking in her youth and ladylike appearance. “This is an unusual design. Did you train in France?”

“No, ma’am. I have had no training.”

“No training!”

“No, I design as a pastime only.”

“Then you’re not aware that this neckline is not in vogue in Europe at the moment.”

“I’m quite aware of that, ma’am, but I design what I like. The high neckline currently in vogue is very unflattering to many women. And the overly full skirt makes dancing difficult. I prefer a dress that is more in keeping with the natural form of a woman and that gives her a bit of freedom to move about.”

Hannah was not aware another woman had entered the shop until a voice said, “Bravo! Mrs. Tark, you must hire this young designer!”

Mrs. Tark laid the dress down and turned to the newcomer. Hannah turned also and saw a smiling brown-haired girl who appeared about her age or a little older. The newcomer radiated a warm confidence, and she turned to Hannah with hand outstretched.

“Hello. I’m Julia Middleburg, and I think your dress is lovely! That’s no insult to you, however, Mrs. Tark, for there is no one for a hundred miles who can construct a riding costume more elegant than the ones you produce so magically!”

“Miss Middleburg, no insult is taken. And I’ll certainly hire this young lady if she’ll agree to it, for I dislike designing ball dresses. My taste is all toward the plain and dignified.”

“Indeed, ma’am,” replied Hannah, “I’m grateful for your kind words, but I’m not looking for a position. I’m governess to Captain Clarke’s wards.”

“Ah, you are the lovely young governess everyone is talking of,” declared Miss Middleburg. “I should have known from your glorious red hair.”

“I’m Hannah Winstead,” Hannah replied, blushing, “and I’m very pleased to meet both of you.”

She then explained her mission concerning the ribbon, and a great deal of effort was made to find exactly the right color. While Hannah examined the proffered bits of silk and held them one by one against the dress, Miss Middleburg completed a fitting. The two young ladies left the shop together, after Hannah promised Mrs. Tark she would at least consider designing a ball gown occasionally for a few highly valued customers.

After Julia had been introduced to Blaze and offered a ride in the cart, which she declined, the two ladies prepared to part. Suddenly Julia said, “Miss Winstead, may I ask a favor? Do you think you might just find time to design a gown for me for the village ball?”

“I’d be happy to do you any favor,” declared Hannah, “and I can certainly find time to design a gown. It’s the stitching that takes time, however.”

“My maid can help,” Julia replied quickly. “Oh, Miss Winstead, I would so very much like to have a dress as pretty as this one.”

“I’ll do my best,” Hannah answered. “You must come to Captain Clarke’s for tea so that we can discuss the best design features and colors for you.”

“Certainly, on any day you choose. And, Miss Winstead, will you come to a luncheon at my parents’ home? I’ve invited several young ladies for the afternoon of April 30. My father is the mayor,” she continued proudly, “and we live just over the river in the white house across from the harbor.”

Hannah was delighted and readily accepted the invitation, providing the little boys could be cared for by others. She then drove home with her heart in a flutter. She had made a new friend, and a dressmaker had admired her design! How delightful! And in addition, she had the ribbon for Katie’s dress, and she knew the sweet rose pink of the gown would set off the girl’s delicate features perfectly.

Hannah’s life for the next two months was so very different from her former sedate existence in Pinley House, she occasionally caught herself thinking with nostalgia of those long lazy afternoons reading in the quiet of her chamber. Mrs. Tark had talked her into designing gowns for two other young ladies besides Julia Middleburg, and she was intent on finishing the servants’ dresses. Meanwhile, the little boys’ lessons and activities must be given first priority for Captain Clarke had insisted on paying a salary for her services as a governess. To add to her cluttered schedule, she was now engaged in a rather busy social life, for her introduction to Julia’s friends at the afternoon luncheon had procured other acquaintances and activities.

The invitations Hannah received were generally to afternoon teas involving the ladies of the town, but an occasion soon arose to give Julia the opportunity of inviting her to an evening function. The mayor and his wife were giving a dinner and all the principal inhabitants of the town were invited. Julia had insisted on Hannah’s being included, and indeed Mr. and Mrs. Middleburg were disposed to like her very much and could see no objection, even though as a governess Hannah fell into a difficult social stratum. Her manners were gentle and correct, however, and of course she possessed the charm of all charms, a high-born English accent.

“Captain Clarke is invited also,” said Julia to Hannah to reinforce the invitation, “and so you will have a chaperone to escort you and drive you home.”

Hannah spoke to Captain Clarke about the propriety of her accepting the invitation, but he dismissed her concern as not worth a discussion. “Of course you’ll go. Why should you not? I promise to open the carriage door for you and make insipid gentlemanly small talk on the way. And here’s an important advantage: if I drink too much port with the gentlemen, you can drive the carriage home.”

Hannah was so deeply engaged in designing and making gowns for others, she realized in the middle of May she might not have time to make a dress for herself. All the young ladies of the town were thrilled at the prospect of the village ball, and she had caught their excitement. She longed to appear in a new dress. She was thinking of this as she rode to the dinner party in Aaron’s carriage. He was uncharacteristically quiet, despite his promise to make insipid small talk, and so she was free to muse on designs and colors. Just as the carriage was pulling up under the portico of Mayor Middleburg’s stately home, Hannah realized exactly how she wanted her gown to appear.

“Yes, it will be gray!” she declared aloud, startling Aaron from a reverie.

“Don’t be too sure,” he replied, “it could perhaps be yellow or even black.”

“I’d like black,” she replied, “but it wouldn’t do.”

He handed her out. “You do realize that I have absolutely no idea what we are speaking of?”

“Yes, I do. And I’m not going to tell. You must wait and wonder.”

“You’re cruel,” he replied with a smile, “but perhaps I can guess. Were you speaking of the weather? It might be gray tomorrow, but it could be quite yellow with sunshine. And it will certainly be black tonight.”