The House Of Secrets. Elizabeth Blackwell

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      WHEN MRS. BREWSTER OFFERED Evelyn the governess position, at double the salary she would have received in Philadelphia, Evelyn felt she had no choice but to accept. She began her duties warily, keeping to the schoolroom and avoiding her employer except when summoned to provide reports on Beatrice’s progress. Yet most days, seemingly by chance, Evelyn found herself crossing paths with Charles. Gradually, she realized these encounters were no accident. Charles’s tone moved from respectful to flirtatious, and Evelyn was flattered by his attention. There were moments stolen in the hallway of the Brewster mansion, his hand brushing hers as if by accident. Visits to the schoolroom as she tried unsuccessfully to concentrate on Beatrice. His whispered confession that she intrigued him as no other woman ever had. From then on, she was at his mercy.

      At the time, she thought it was love. Why else would she weaken at the thought of his hand resting around her waist? It wasn’t the grand romance she had once imagined—there were no intimate conversations or tender declarations of affection. Yet Charles had a hold over her that she had no wish to escape.

      When Evelyn first confided the new developments to her mother, Katherine almost fainted with delight. She insisted on making new dresses for Evelyn and admonished her to be on her best behavior. When Charles finally appeared at the house one evening and asked for Evelyn’s hand in marriage, Katherine could only nod and stammer before dissolving into tears of happiness.

      The reaction at the Brewster home was considerably less joyful. When Charles brought Evelyn into the drawing room later that evening, announcing that she had accepted his proposal, Alma fixed her future daughter-in-law with an expression of such horror that Evelyn had to turn away.

      “Nonsense,” Alma declared after an agonizing silence.

      Charles took a step toward his mother, his body stiff with self-righteous anger. “If you won’t welcome my future wife, Mother, we are prepared to settle in Baltimore.”

      Alma eyed Evelyn up and down. “That won’t be necessary. Charles, will you give us a moment alone, please?”

      It took all of Evelyn’s self-control to keep from clutching Charles’s hand. Charles glanced at her, then back at his mother.

      “Whatever you say to Evelyn, you can say in front of me.”

      “Very well.” Alma paused, pacing in circles in front of them as if rounding up her thoughts. “Charles, if you are attempting to prove your independence, the point has been made. I urged you not to rush into marriage, yet you ignored my advice and proposed to someone who is utterly unsuitable.” She turned to face Evelyn. “Miss O’Keefe, I am not unsympathetic. I understand your position, your family’s precarious finances. You saw an opportunity with my son…”

      “I assure you, I didn’t,” Evelyn protested. “Charles pursued me.”

      Alma glanced at Charles, taking in his amused smile. Then she smiled coldly at Evelyn.

      “Very well,” she conceded. “My son showed an interest, and you took advantage of it. No doubt you are quite skilled. I confess I was completely unaware of this turn of events. However, if you are willing to consider an alternate solution, I’m prepared to be quite generous.”

      “I have no interest in your money,” Evelyn said. “Charles and I love each other.”

      Alma flinched.

      “As you see, Mother, this is not a commercial transaction,” said Charles, a note of contempt lurking beneath his cheerful words. “I have proposed, Evelyn has accepted, and we will be married. With or without your blessing.”

      Though Evelyn was heartened by Charles’s resolve, she felt momentarily chilled by the fury in his eyes.

      Alma nodded slowly. “If you are determined to go through with this, you will have it. Miss O’Keefe, may I offer my congratulations.” But the words were a mere formality. Alma did not offer an embrace or even a handshake. Her body remained rigid, as if she were afraid she would crack into pieces if she moved.

      “Don’t worry, our house will be finished soon enough,” Charles reassured Evelyn as they waited for the carriage to take her home. “You won’t have to spend a night under this roof.”

      Their house. The thought of it was almost enough to distract Evelyn from the memory of Alma’s insults. Construction had begun long before Charles’s proposal to Evelyn, but she had been delighted by the building when he’d shown her around a few days before. She had never imagined a place so elegant could also feel so welcoming.

      When the carriage arrived, Charles held the door open for Evelyn, then climbed in beside her. He closed the door behind him and drew her toward him for a kiss that obliterated her fears. Until now, Charles had given her nothing more than fleeting pecks on the cheek. Now, his lips explored her face in a frenzy of pent-up passion, his hands roaming along her shoulders and down her arms. Evelyn felt her body melt into his and wondered how she would manage to resist him until their wedding night.

      It was only much later, as Evelyn lay in bed, that she felt a pang of doubt. She had told Alma that she and Charles were getting married because they loved each other. Yet Charles had never once told her so.

      By the day of the wedding, however, any lingering worries about her future husband were overshadowed by the event itself. Evelyn moved through her duties as if in a dream. She glided down the aisle and repeated her vows in a firm but quiet voice. She smiled graciously as Charles escorted her back through the church and out the front doors.

      Then she saw Will Brewster, and the haze lifted.

      Charles hadn’t expected his brother to come. Will had gone abroad years ago—“To study art,” Alma had told Reverend Alderson’s wife, in the same hushed tone she might have used to discuss a fatal illness. Charles had informed his brother about the wedding in a letter, but when no response arrived, Alma had crossed Will’s name from the seating chart. Yet there he was, standing at the bottom of the church stairs, pulling off his grimy driving glasses and greeting Evelyn with a delighted smile.