Sutton promised.
They said their farewells. Celia watched from the front door as Sutton set off toward his home on Lafayette Square, the red scarf draped jauntily about his shoulders.
Sitting between her father and Ivy the next morning in their pew at St. John’s Church, Celia turned to look over her shoulder. Where was Sutton? All night she had tossed and turned, too excited about the prospect of an afternoon ride with him to sleep. Since hisreturn they had had only a few moments alone. It seemed something always happened to keep them apart.
The service continued, and she forced herself to concentrate on the familiar prayers and the hymns, made all the more beautiful by the sound of her father’s rich baritone. Beside her, Ivy mouthed the words, but no sound came out. No doubt her thoughts were on other things as well. Maybe she had decided to attend the ball after all and was mulling over her costume choices. Or was she disappointed that Sutton had not seemed more excited about her gift?
Celia rose with the other worshipers for the final hymn and stole a glance at her cousin. Ivy had taken particular care with her hair this morning, fashioning her shining blond locks into a mass of ringlets that brushed her shoulders and set off the black lace shawl pinned with the cameo brooch Papa had given her for Christmas last year. At twenty-five, Ivy was an attractive woman, well-read and with a fine education. There was no reason, apart from her prickly nature, why she could not find a suitable match.
Celia gathered her own shawl and reticule and followed her father up the aisle and into the church yard, Ivy trailing behind them.
“Celia, there you are. I was hoping to see you this morning.” Sarah Lawton made her way to Celia’s side and clasped her hand. “I don’t have but a moment, my dear. Alexander is waiting in the carriage, and I must get home to the baby, but I desperately need a favor.”
“Anything.” Celia regarded the older woman with affection. Mrs. Lawton was everything Celia herself hoped to be—gracious, compassionate, and beautiful even in maturity. With her copper-colored curls and bright blue eyes, Mrs. Lawton looked far younger than her thirty-odd years.
“You remember, of course, that Nellie Gordon is about to become a mother,” Mrs. Lawton said.
“Yes. Any day now, or so Mrs. Wade said just before the service this morning.”
“I had so counted on Mrs. Gordon to finish collecting for the Christmas drive for the Poor House and Hospital, but with both of us confined these past months, I’m afraid we’ve fallen behind.”
Celia nodded absently and peered over Mrs. Lawton’s shoulder, hoping to spot Sutton. Clouds were building, promising rain, and she wanted to finish working Zeus before the weather changed.
“Nellie has done much of the preliminary work,” Mrs. Lawton continued. “It’s mostly a matter of collecting the promised donations and delivering them to the hospital in time for Christmas. I know you’re working on the fund-raising for the Female Asylum and helping Mrs. Clayton with that new young woman too. But could you possibly take on one more thing?”
Though Celia dreaded the prospect of anything that would take more of her time away from Sutton, she couldn’t disappoint a woman she so ardently admired. “Of course,” she said.
“Oh, my dear, I am so relieved.” Mrs. Lawton’s eyes shone. “Sometimes it seems we will never catch up after being away all summer. I’ll bring the list by in a day or two. Perhaps Ivy will lend a hand.”
“Doing what?” Ivy halted beside them and bobbed her head at Mrs. Lawton. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Ivy. Your cousin has just agreed to deliver Christmas to the poor unfortunates at the hospital.” Mrs. Lawton patted Celia’s gloved hand. “I wonder whether Savannah fully appreciates what a dedicated young woman she is.”
“Well, Uncle David and I are certainly proud of her,” Ivy said. “I can’t begin
They said their farewells. Celia watched from the front door as Sutton set off toward his home on Lafayette Square, the red scarf draped jauntily about his shoulders.
Sitting between her father and Ivy the next morning in their pew at St. John’s Church, Celia turned to look over her shoulder. Where was Sutton? All night she had tossed and turned, too excited about the prospect of an afternoon ride with him to sleep. Since hisreturn they had had only a few moments alone. It seemed something always happened to keep them apart.
The service continued, and she forced herself to concentrate on the familiar prayers and the hymns, made all the more beautiful by the sound of her father’s rich baritone. Beside her, Ivy mouthed the words, but no sound came out. No doubt her thoughts were on other things as well. Maybe she had decided to attend the ball after all and was mulling over her costume choices. Or was she disappointed that Sutton had not seemed more excited about her gift?
Celia rose with the other worshipers for the final hymn and stole a glance at her cousin. Ivy had taken particular care with her hair this morning, fashioning her shining blond locks into a mass of ringlets that brushed her shoulders and set off the black lace shawl pinned with the cameo brooch Papa had given her for Christmas last year. At twenty-five, Ivy was an attractive woman, well-read and with a fine education. There was no reason, apart from her prickly nature, why she could not find a suitable match.
Celia gathered her own shawl and reticule and followed her father up the aisle and into the church yard, Ivy trailing behind them.
“Celia, there you are. I was hoping to see you this morning.” Sarah Lawton made her way to Celia’s side and clasped her hand. “I don’t have but a moment, my dear. Alexander is waiting in the carriage, and I must get home to the baby, but I desperately need a favor.”
“Anything.” Celia regarded the older woman with affection. Mrs. Lawton was everything Celia herself hoped to be—gracious, compassionate, and beautiful even in maturity. With her copper-colored curls and bright blue eyes, Mrs. Lawton looked far younger than her thirty-odd years.
“You remember, of course, that Nellie Gordon is about to become a mother,” Mrs. Lawton said.
“Yes. Any day now, or so Mrs. Wade said just before the service this morning.”
“I had so counted on Mrs. Gordon to finish collecting for the Christmas drive for the Poor House and Hospital, but with both of us confined these past months, I’m afraid we’ve fallen behind.”
Celia nodded absently and peered over Mrs. Lawton’s shoulder, hoping to spot Sutton. Clouds were building, promising rain, and she wanted to finish working Zeus before the weather changed.
“Nellie has done much of the preliminary work,” Mrs. Lawton continued. “It’s mostly a matter of collecting the promised donations and delivering them to the hospital in time for Christmas. I know you’re working on the fund-raising for the Female Asylum and helping Mrs. Clayton with that new young woman too. But could you possibly take on one more thing?”
Though Celia dreaded the prospect of anything that would take more of her time away from Sutton, she couldn’t disappoint a woman she so ardently admired. “Of course,” she said.
“Oh, my dear, I am so relieved.” Mrs. Lawton’s eyes shone. “Sometimes it seems we will never catch up after being away all summer. I’ll bring the list by in a day or two. Perhaps Ivy will lend a hand.”
“Doing what?” Ivy halted beside them and bobbed her head at Mrs. Lawton. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Ivy. Your cousin has just agreed to deliver Christmas to the poor unfortunates at the hospital.” Mrs. Lawton patted Celia’s gloved hand. “I wonder whether Savannah fully appreciates what a dedicated young woman she is.”
“Well, Uncle David and I are certainly proud of her,” Ivy said. “I can’t begin
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