Page 8 of The Road to Cavan Town
He had so many questions for her. Why, when he offered Miss Kilchrest another bouquet, one he thought was nice, didn’t she seem any more enthusiastic than she’d been with the first one? Had Miss Kilchrest’s collection of admirers diminished or was he imagining it? Why did Mr. and Mrs. Kilchrest seem more inviting of late?
More important than any of the other questions, he wanted to know where Alice had gone, why she didn’t walk with him any more.
Late November gave way to earliest December, and still he didn’t see Alice. She had to be avoiding him. They walked the same road twice a week. She knew exactly what time of day he’dbe on that road. To not cross paths even once in weeks couldn’t be a coincidence.
She was clearly mad at him, though overwhathe couldn’t say. They’d never had an argument in the months they’d known each other. They didn’t always agree on everything, but those little disagreements never ended in anything other than smiles and continued friendship.
He hated that she had disappeared so entirely.
Walking down the streets of Cavan on the way to the Kilchrest home, Isaac stopped in his tracks. In the window of a small shop amongst a display of trinkets and jewelry and such sat a delicate lady’s pin watch. Flowers of inlaid gold stood in contrast to the deep-blue of the perfectly circular case. It hung on a bow-shaped pin leafed in matching gold.
Alice would love this.And, he thought with a smile, she’d not need to ask him for the time every weekend. He didn’t know if Alice could read a watch, but he’d happily teach her how, especially if it meant seeing her again.
He slipped inside the shop and inquired after the price. ’Twas steep, more than he’d ever spent on a gift before. He made a comfortable living but wasn’t rich by any means. The watch would set him back quite a bit.
I’d not have enough left to give Miss Kilchrest a Christmas gift.Not having a holiday offering for the lady he’d spent months courting made no sense whatsoever. And yet he wavered. Alice would love the watch. He knew she would.
He left the shop and the watch behind, but the question of Christmas gifts remained in his mind all the way to the Kilchrest’s home. Odd that he knew precisely the present that would bring a smile to Alice’s face, but couldn’t begin to guess what Miss Kilchrest would like. He’d given her flowers on a few occasions, but the offering didn’t make her gleeful by any means. He simply hadn’t stumbled upon what she loved.
A stern-faced servant opened the Kilchrest’s door. Isaac was not terribly accustomed to calling at a home where the owners didn’t answer their own door.
“I’m Isaac Dancy. The Kilchrests invited me to call.” He felt he ought to explain why he’d come when, if truth be told, his position in the world was far more equal to that of the housekeeper than the master of the house.
He was ushered inside. Isaac had never been to the Kilchrest’s home. He glanced about the entryway, with its fine furnishings and paintings and fresh-cut flowers. A great many flowers, in fact. Twas no wonder Miss Kilchrest hadn’t been impressed with his offerings. She had no need of more flowers.
As he followed the housekeeper into the formal parlor, Isaac began to suspect Miss Kilchrest was not in need of much of anything. The room was elegant, fancy even. His own home, in comparison, would seem run-down and plain to the point of being ugly. But that was one of the reasons he’d first began pursuing Miss Kilchrest. He had worked very hard for many years to make a success of his farm, despite the lingering shadow of The Hunger still clinging to the land. He wanted that to be reflected in his home. He wanted his neighbors to receive a warm welcome there.
Who could do that better than a lady who’d been raised in refinement, learning from the cradle how to be sociable and genteel? The idea was a good one. He’d certainly spent enough months thinking on it.
Yet, standing in the pristine parlor, his hat in his hands, Isaac felt very out of place. Elegance, he was discovering, was not always welcoming. Surely the version of refinement Miss Kilchrest would bring to his more modest home would be a bit less overwhelming.
The object of his matrimonial ambitions stepped inside a moment later. She wore the same smile she always did, content and calm.
“Welcome, Isaac.” She motioned him to a white settee.
He brushed at his trousers, not entirely certain they didn’t yet bear dust from the road. White was not the most practical color for furnishings.
Mr. Kilchrest came inside and crossed to where he still stood.
“I hear you took in a good profit on your crop this year,” Mr. Kilchrest said.
Isaac nodded. Prices had been good.
“Good, good.” Mr. Kilchrest took up a seat nearby and opened a newspaper. That was to be the end of their conversation it seemed.
Isaac didn’t know if that was normal for Mr. Kilchrest or if he simply didn’t have anything to say to him. He knew many of Miss Kilchrest’s suitors had been invited to call on her family over the months, but he’d never been among their number. Where were the others? He didn’t think the invitations were generally kept to one man at a time.
“Is there to be no one else?” he asked.
Miss Kilchrest’s smile tightened a bit. “Not this time.”
None of the others could come? Or none of the otherswouldcome?He didn’t know where the uncharitable thought came from. He dismissed it immediately.
Isaac sat on the edge of the settee, still clutching his hat. A person was afraid to breathe in a room like that one. Everything looked breakable and clean as new. If any of the other men felt half as uncomfortable as he did in that moment, ’twas little wonder they weren’t coming around any longer.
He attempted to match Miss Kilchrest’s small talk but never had been one for conversations that felt pointless. She spoke of fashions and the weather and stories she’d heard of peopleIsaac didn’t know. He tried to discuss improvements to his land or difficulties he had about his home, but she only put on that everyday smile of hers and nodded without comment.
They’d not had enough opportunities to become acquainted. Isaac didn’t think he’d do a very good job of it in her house. He simply couldn’t feel at ease there.
