CHAPTER FIVE
July, 1790
Dear Toby,
Thank you for Andrew’s gift. The tin soldiers have made him very popular with his friends, although by the time those ruffians are through with them, they will be in less than pristine condition.
Thank you also for arranging the shipment of porcelain. You underestimate the desire for luxury goods in our small part of the world. The Royal Warrant adds not half, but two-thirds to the price, a tidy profit for the importer (me) and the other retailers I supply down river.
Was the mention of Mr. Rosewall’s admirable sister designed to make me jealous? If so, I will be forced to tell you that Mr. Neville was back in town last month, and he tells me he has a very interesting line in ladies’ silk unmentionables.
No matter, I only jest with you as I know I can. I do hope the confidential matter you wrote of is not so serious as to cause an undue delay in your return (and if you take that as confirmation that my tender regard toward you is undiminished, then I shall not disabuse you of it).
Yours affectionately,
Ann
P.S. I was tempted to show the hat design to the Brewer sisters, but I fear Augustine’s tastes are such that she would take it seriously and actually make the concoction.
Twenty-six Months Earlier
May, 1788
As the early days of spring brought warmth and color to the landscape, her frozen world of mourning thawed, and feelings of life emerged from a dormant state. Ann chose her clothes carefully as she prepared to open the doors of the store.
The grey half-mourning dresses were exchanged for blue, but only minimally decorated. Practical dresses in which to run her business.
Toby.
She was still trying out the sound of his name. And yet in public they greeted each other with studious formality.
Earlier in the month, she and Andrew moved into the house behind the store with their housekeeper Ruth. Ann hired Patience, a twelve-year-old orphan who enjoyed looking after Andrew as much as she did working in the shop. Although unschooled, she learned quickly and followed avidly whenever Ann read storybooks to Andrew before bed.
The town clock struck six as the last customer left. Patience bolted the door.
“We did it, Patience! Our first week!” In the privacy of the deserted shop, the pair clasped hands and jumped up and down with excitement. Ann laughed as Patience giggled.
“Will you help Ruth bathe Andrew?” said Ann as the laughter subsided. “I’m going to finish up the books for tonight.”
The girl gladly disappeared through the connecting door to the house.
Ann was methodical in her daily reconciliation of the books, and by the time the shop clock struck the half hour, she was finished.
There came a loud tap on the door.
“The shop is closed,” she called, but the knocking was insistent. Ann rose wearily.
Two men lingered in the twilight. She recognized their features. Toby Jackson and James Mitchell.
“We’re here to celebrate your first week in business,” Toby announced.
They grinned like schoolboys. Toby had something behind his back. James held a box covered by a tablecloth.
Ann shook her head but could not stop a smile as she unbolted the door.
Patience, with Andrew on her hip and Ruth following behind, emerged from the house.
“Toby would have been here on Monday, but I insisted he wait,” James explained.
Toby looked at her sheepishly. “I was keen to see how my investment fared.”
The steady gaze brought a flush to her cheeks; the feeling of attraction to him budded like the new flowers outside.
The exploding pop of a champagne cork broke the spell.
“Oh, champagne!” exclaimed Ruth. “It really is a celebration.”
“I haven’t had wine before,” offered Patience hopefully.
“And you’re not going to have any now, my girl. Not until you’re much older,” Ruth admonished. “There’s some lemonade you can have. It’s in the kitchen.”
Patience seemed satisfied with the compromise and scampered out to fetch her treat.
James spread the tablecloth upon the counter and brought forth food from the box. Toby pressed a glass of champagne into every adult hand.
“Here’s to the success of Sellars’s Mercantile!”
* * *
July 4, 1788
Ann stood in front of the looking glass. Her dress was a lovely rose pink; it was the nicest she owned. It was lovely on. She felt pretty in it. It seemed so long since she’d worn anything other than mourning or the utilitarian. On catching her reflection, a frisson of guilt worked its way along her nerves. She had dressed in a way attractive to another man.
Attractive to Toby Jackson.
She glanced guiltily at the miniature of her late husband on the dressing table. The tiny portrait had been painted as a wedding day token.
Robert looked so young and serious, newly graduated from engineering school. Was she ready to let go? Was she misreading Toby’s intent? He had been polite, courteous, and charming. Encouraging of her business, actually listening to her. And he was so sweet to Andrew, answering his incessant questions, offering to take them both for a ride on Sunday after church.
The thing that had endeared her to him the most was when he’d read Andrew to sleep one afternoon when he had been restless after lunch. Ann wondered what type of father Toby would make—and how Andrew might feel about one day having a brother or a sister.
But she stopped herself before the thought could take further root. It was too soon.
The Fourth of July picnic was her first social outing fully out of mourning. Ann descended to the bottom of the stairs just as the confident rap at the door announced Toby’s arrival.
Ruth and Patience looked a picture in their summer floral dresses, and Andrew, dressed in short pants and a little shirt, was no longer a toddler but a confident, if sometimes impatient, little boy.
Toby was dressed as cool as the summer sun allowed in navy blue breeches, a cream linen shirt, and a blue waistcoat.
As they rode toward the park in the buggy, Ann cast a sidelong glance at him, surprised at his proprietary look as they greeted friends and acquaintances on the way.
James spotted them and waved them toward a bur oak tree. A large blanket spread across the lush grass and folding stools in the shade added extra comfort.
“You took your sweet time getting here,” he groused to Toby, although his eyes twinkled and there was an upturn of a smile to his mouth. “I had to fend off the Brewer sisters for this spot.”
“And you’re still here in one piece?” Jackson immediately rejoined, to the laughter of the party.
Cider flowed as freely as the conversation and the food, and they, among hundreds of families, listened to the band from Fort Pitt play hymns and popular tunes at the riverside park, where the Monongahela River flowed down into the Ohio.
Andrew had been such a good boy all day that Ann allowed him to play with some other boys with the admonishment to keep his clothes clean. That elicited a friendly ribbing from Toby and James, who both agreed that there was no small boy on Earth who could obey such a command.
The smiles and the laughter were coming easier for her now, after once believing they never would again. Every time she turned her head, she found herself the subject of Toby’s regard, his light grey eyes seeming even more vivid, and the sharp edges to his cheeks, with the beginning of late afternoon stubble, adding to his masculine appeal.
Ann allowed her eyes to flicker to his lips, firm and slightly colored from cranberry punch. She missed being kissed; her husband’s touches and caresses seemed a lifetime ago. As she raised her eyes to his, she was sure there was a slight change to his expression, a warmth.
Or that might be her own cheeks heating with a blush. Maybe she was more ready to move on than she thought.
She broke away her gaze under the guise of sweeping crumbs from her skirt, lest she really blush. By the time she looked back, the rest of the party was engaged in conversation, so she searched out her son and saw him romping happily with his new playmates in the dappled shade of the trees.
A shadow fell across Ann’s lap.
“Mrs. Sellars! How fortuitous that I should see you here today!”
She recognized the voice before she raised her head to look up at the man who blocked her view of her son.
“Mr. Neville,” said Ann, her greeting without warmth or invitation.
David Neville was a travelling salesman, though his physical appearance did not inspire confidence. He was a weasely looking man with thinning black hair swept over a balding pate. As if to compensate, he dressed expensively and flamboyantly, today in a bright cerise and gold embroidered frock coat and matching breeches.
In his right hand, he held a slender ebony cane. Its pommel-style silver mount glittered in the sun, and it exuded an impression of wealth Ann didn’t feel was entirely genuine, although she would be hard pressed to explain why.
He remained standing before her, either ignoring her or completely oblivious to the fact that his presence was not welcome.
It seemed the man wouldn’t take a hint. Ann had listened to his sales pitch for a good hour last Thursday, and she was no more interested now than she had been then. If he had hoped to impress her with his ostentation, then he was sadly mistaken.
Toby sat up straight beside her, but she ignored him to address the unwelcome visitor.
“This is a private party, Mr. Neville, and a holiday besides. Any further business you may have can wait until next week.”
The man’s face expressed momentary displeasure before settling into a false mask of polite solicitude. “A smart business woman like yourself knows opportunity is floating away, just as the current of this mighty river flows into the Ohio. Surely five minutes of your time invested in discovering what’s going to be the wonder of the age, Elwood’s Efficacious Elixir—”
Ann stood.
“Patience,” she called, her voice as cold and crisp as a December morning. The young girl started. “Keep an eye on Andrew, if you please.”
The girl rose and hurried off to where Andrew and the boys had started climbing a tree. Ann turned her attention back to Neville. A flicker of victory crossed his face.
“See here, Mr. Neville, if you do not leave immediately I’ll be forced to…”
Ann paused. What would she be forced to do? She could hardly manhandle him out of her way.
Toby stood beside her. The warmth of a hand, just a light touch at the small of her back, gave her additional courage.
“The lady said she was not interested, Mr. Neville.” The statement was no less powerful for the quiet delivery.
Neville stepped back onto his cane, his hand dropping from its silver mount to the stick itself, as if he was preparing to brandish it as a sword. Ann heard more rustling behind her. She guessed James and Ruth had also risen from their places.
In the face of overwhelming force, Neville decided discretion was the better part of valor. He touched the cane to his hat and left with a curt bow.
Toby’s mouth was a taut line. “How long as this man been bothering you?”