Page 51 of Beyond Montana's Sky
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Late October 1896
Boston
Finally, we’re alone!The Graysons’ carriage swayed around a turn. Edith closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the cushions, conscious of how fatigue pulled at her body.
The last few days enduring the train trip with her difficult relatives was as frustratingly boring as any time Edith had ever known. Even when she’d lived with Aunt Agatha, she could escape to the blessed solitude of her bedroom.
Admitting her malaisemightbe the fault of her heart was out of the question.Too late now to even think of exploring a relationship with Cai Driscoll.
Upon arriving in Boston, her aunt and cousins, as well as Uncle Atticus, departed in their own carriages, while Edith and Ben took the Grayson’s conveyance, which had been sent for them. Henry and Mildred waited to welcome them at their home.
Ben opened the window, and a breeze blew in the smells of Boston—horse droppings from the streets and the faint brine of the ocean. He practically hung out the window, eagerly pointing out familiar sights. “Mama, look, the harbor.”
She opened her eyes and craned to see a glimpse of the ocean—a sight she’d longed for, ever since moving to Montana—and her interest quickened. Too bad the sky overhead was already winter gray, turning the water an olive-pewter color. She’d miss Montana’s stark blue autumn and winter skies.
The traffic was heavy enough to slow their progress. The farther they drove into the exclusive Back Bay neighborhood on the Charles River, where lived many of the Brahmins—the elite of Boston—the more the sea scent faded away.
The homes were built on land reclaimed from the tidal flats. The original planners’ restrictions on row houses and mansions mandated height, street setbacks, and building materials and gave the area a consistent look. The row house where Nathaniel and Edith had lived was located a few blocks from her in-laws.
In spite of her fatigue, Edith’s spirits lifted at the familiar sights.It’s good to be home, to start my new life.
The carriage turned onto the Graysons’ street, passing by the home of Ben’s former best friend.
He pulled his head in from the window. “Mama, can I go over to Tom’s?”
“Not today. Your absence would hurt your grandparents’ feelings. Bath, supper, unpacking.” She ticked off the items on her fingers.
Ben grimaced. “Guess you’re right.”
“You can go over tomorrow,” she promised.
The closer they came to the Grayson row house, the tighter her stomach grew. Nathaniel’s parents never approved of their precious second son marrying Black Jack’s daughter. Although they couldn’t fault her father’s distinguished pedigree, they could and did fault his behavior and life choices. As for her sweet mother…they’d dismissed her as a nobody.
For the most part, they’d been scrupulously polite to Edith, especially in Nathaniel’s presence. But polite was different from welcoming, and their attitudes often felt cold instead of warm. Sometimes, though, they let slip their true feelings.
To be fair, they were good grandparents to Ben, their only grandson, and did much to spoil him. Edith and Nathaniel took care of the rest of the spoiling.Our only child, so that was to be expected.
The carriage pulled up in front of the Graysons’ brick row house, built in the French Academic style—with a symmetrical façade and a second-story bay window centered over the front door—and a tiny grass yard in front. The home was four-stories high above a ground floor below.
A male servant hurried out the front door, descended the four concrete steps and down the walkway, to open the carriage door and helped Edith out.
Smiling, she nodded her thanks.
The man gave her a startled look, and only then did Edith realize she should have ignored him.Oh, dear. I don’t think I can go back to pretending servants are part of the décor.In keeping with a resolve to treat the help more warmly, she halted. “You must be new since we were last here. Please tell me your name.”
He touched his chest. “Keith Spade, ma’am. Man-of-all-work.”
“Spade,” she repeated, nodding, and walked up the stairs.
With Ben at her side, Edith entered the dark walnut double doors and walked into the entryway onto the first-floor rooms, the walls framed in carved walnut woodwork. A staircase ascended the four flights. Landscape paintings in gilded frames hung on the dark paneling.
The family’s ancient butler, Deak, looking frail and drawn, stood waiting. He bowed. “Mrs. Grayson. Master Ben.” The slightest of smiles broke his impassive expression. “If I may be so bold and wish you a welcome home. This house is sore in need of your uplifting presence.”
Edith smiled. “Thank you, Deak.” She wondered if her in-laws would welcome her so warmly.
“Master Ben.” The butler’s eyes sheened with tears, and he couldn’t seem to find words, only bowing a third time.
