Page 36 of His Unforgettable Bride
“The constable was aware of my…I mean, Alex Sherwood’s pending arrival?”
“Oh, yes. Tabby and I are good friends with his wife and attend the same church. We haven’t mentioned Alex’s criminal record, and I believe it’s still best to keep that detail to ourselves. No need for others in the community to form negative opinions of you from the onset.”
“There.” Juliet’s smile widened. “You don’t need to go to the constable after all.”
Perhaps she was right. What good would it do if the constable had not heard of a missing man in the area?
Maybe it was time to consider that he was Alex Sherwood. More and more missing puzzle pieces had been coming together to create that picture.
However, he detested what he had learned about the sisters’ nephew thus far. Maybe that was why, somewhere deep inside, he felt dissatisfied with himself, because he had not been living an upright life.
What if God had given him this hardship to turn things around and become a better man? If so, he must not squander the opportunity.
Eleven
If your brain is so full and so busy that you cannot attend to the littlecivilities, cheerful chit-chat, and light amusements of society, keep out of it.
“Just as I am,” Juliet whispered the sentence printed on the front page of her grandfather’s worn journal before closing the book. Why those four words? It wasn’t the first time she’d asked herself the question, and it probably wouldn’t be the last since she had no answer.
Sighing, she deposited the journal on top of the chest of drawers, exchanging it for the letters she’d written to Willow, Daisy, and Sage. Since leaving Vancouver Island five days ago, she’d had little time to write to her friends. They’d want to know how to reach her. One day, and hopefully soon, she’d invite them for a visit.
Eager to show off the tearoom upon its completion, a little thrill rolled around inside her as she left the bedroom, descended the back staircase, and entered the kitchen. Tabitha handed her two more envelopes. “The post office is inside the workplace of Stipendiary Magistrate J.B. Elliott. Go straight down the hill until Main Street, one block from the river, and turn right. Keep going until you reach 10 Seventh Street on the corner.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Icala turned from the stove, a knife and a loaf of fresh bread in one hand. The yeasty aroma smelled like heaven. “There’s a rumor someone in this house adores chocolate cake, and that person might find it on the menu tonight.”
“Really?” Juliet recalled her recent conversation with Gray. The man kept surprising her in the best possible ways. Maybe she’d pegged him wrong from the start. “I can barely wait, and I thank you both.”
After too many lean years in England, her stomach always craved more. Maybe one day, her gut would stop grumbling.
As she stepped outside, the mid-morning sky matched a pewter goblet. A sharp northern wind from the mountains snuck inside her scarf. She tightened the knot below her chin and rounded the house to reach the street. Children frolicked in Royal Park across the road, their laughter carrying on the wind.
Juliet strolled down the hill. Perhaps she’d bump into Gray on his way back from the dock. He’d hoped to learn what ships had arrived in Everly the day before he regained consciousness. But how much time had passed between his attack and her rescue? Based on the dried leaves and brush atop his form, a couple of days, maybe.
Ideally, he’d begin laboring in the carriage house as early as this afternoon, and then they’d all discover his level of carpentry skills.
When she reached downtown, only a few folks roamed the raised wooden platform that served as a sidewalk. She paused to wait as a buggy crossed the muddy street, spitting up sludgy dirt. She strode past a watchmaker’s shop, a law office, and a tannery before reaching a sky-blue hotel on her side of the road.
The fancy three-story structure featured a balcony with a decorative cast-iron rail, towering snow-white pillars, and a macadamized drive to reach the large front entrance. The place created an inviting picture, and she considered stepping inside. Hotels had always intrigued her for a good reason. Her father had labored as an innkeeper, where he’d met Juliet’s mother.
But there was no time for snooping around today. Livy had lessons planned on proper posture, proper letter writing, and proper books to read to polish her mind. Truthfully, much of what Livy deemed critical teachings ranked far from necessary in Juliet’s opinion.
However, she wasn’t an authority figure on manners, now, was she?
Juliet soon passed a twin-spired church. Its white stone walls, steeply pitched roof, and three gorgeous stained-glass windows in a row impressed her at first glance. Was it the sisters’ house of worship? Tomorrow was Sunday, and she would learn the answer firsthand.
Then she reached the intersection she sought and squinted at the address proudly carved on the two-story, brick-fronted building. 10 Seventh Street. Juliet hurried forward but paused at the sight of an older man slumped on the bottom step.
Wearing a loose sack coat, he doffed his beat-up straw hat, revealing scant white hair. His blue eyes held a piercing sharpness that was difficult to ignore. “Good morning to you, miss.” When he inhaled, he faintly wheezed. “I’d stand, but I have an achy leg.”
“No need, sir, but thank you.” She sidled past him up the rest of the steps into the lobby with welcoming chairs of light oak and apple-green seats. Nobody would mind if she brought the man on the steps inside, would they? The blustery November day better suited the birds.
In less than two minutes, she handed the postmaster her mail, received a passel of letters for the sisters, and returned to the fresh air outside. The older gentleman still occupied the steps.
Twisting toward her, he smiled, revealing a large gap between his upper front teeth. “That was quick.”
She descended the stairs until she reached his side. “I don’t tend to dawdle.”
